Chapter 6: All Work and No Play
Chapter 6: All Work and No Play
I was not granted an easy sleep last evening. It could have been that my body was restless. Or that my mind was freshly reeling with dread for what was to come in the morning. Or perhaps the rumbling of loud, whining music was keeping me awake. It was the sort of music that I personally wouldn't give the grace of calling it as such. Its tone and volume practically shook the walls of the bunker, and trying to sleep through it would have been a feat of the same caliber as sleeping during a hurricane.
Defeated, my body tossed to the other end of the thin mattress. Both hands of mine held moved to hold my aching back. I sat upright and I minded my head, ducking beneath the railing of the top bunk. The music, as previously stated, was undeserving of the distinction. Whatever it ostensibly was, it was comparable to a combine harvester and a trash compactor in the throes of intercourse. Certainly, somepony found this music to be of some entertaining value, but in my ears, it was nothing more than grating gutter trash denying me an unmolested rest.
My feet met the floor, and I myself clad in little else but barest of necessities. I reasoned that if I was to spend the remainder of my night, I would do so in my proper outfit. I made for the footlocker, making haste to get myself dressed. The hat stayed where it was as a formality, resting at the bottom of the locker. In my uniform, I retired from the bed to leave the barracks. In my mind’s eye, if I wore my uniform, it would make me less conspicuous if somepony were to find me outside.
The barracks were abandoned on this particular evening. Empty as a cookie jar in the hooves of a foal. The beds were devoid of their occupants. Most all the covers were haphazardly strewn about as everypony had made way to the celebration. The music still shook the walls, and forced me to reconsider wearing my cap, even in knowing it would do little to muffle it. I covered my ears and I made my way to the hallway.
Instantly, I regretted leaving the barrack. The music continued to drone and whine in my ears, sending me reeling. It was a rather bass-heavy song, emphasizing a whirring sound that sounded as some ponies had told me was “wubs”. I was not unfamiliar to the music; A certain white unicorn mare graced - and I use the term loosely - most every Canterlot event with it. It was irritating to my ears, nonetheless. My hands still firmly covered to my ears as I tried to reach an area outdoors. In a frantic dash to find auditory shelter, I ended up bumping into, of all things, a crystal pony. She was of an orange hue, with a straight, light brown mane. Her locks drooped across her face, and she had a mark of a baton bearing a pair of bright, glowing flames. Her eyes were of a slightly brighter orange, and they looked to me with curious worry.
“Are you alright?” she asked, helping me up up. “You seem to be tense; There's a party going on in the mess hall, would you like to come with me?”
A sigh billowed from my throat as I dusted off my uniform.
“I’m afraid I must decline,” I tersely spoke, stretching out. “I was merely wanting to get some fresh air, seeing as I can’t sleep tonight. The princess expects me tomorrow.”
The amber-colored mare chuckled as she swished her tail to me teasingly.
“I think she can wait. Besides, I don’t think I’ve seen you having a lot of fun around here,” she replied, trying to take my hand.
“But-”
Before I could make a reasonable reply, a burly, grey earth pony stallion scoffed, a guttural laugh rumbling from his throat.
“Ah, come on, you wuss!” he snorted, brushing his mane from his face. “You barely spend time with any of us after hours.”
I felt his hoof pat my back as I seemed to be forced in the direction of the mess hall.
“Come on, kid! I’ll buy the first round!”
I stared daggers at the stallion who had just decided to push me along the way.
“You just need me to be your designated driver, don’t you?”
“Eyuup.”
The sad part of it all was that he was completely in the right; I didn’t know either of these guard’s names. I had spent a good few months, if not a couple years in their company without even knowing anypony. And yet everypony knows who I am - I’m the special guard. The odd one out. The one who had to spend overtime just to keep up with everypony else. While I wasn’t any happier in retrospect for being forced into doing this, his rationale was sound.
As soon as I was guided inside, I swore that my ears very nearly decided to divorce themselves from my head.
A new song was playing, this one of very deep, slow, reverberating whines and wubs. It was as if somepony decided to record the sound of one of those pulp fiction rayguns on a stereogram and put it to music made from a failing arcade cabinet. Banners of golds, reds, violets, blues, and whites were strewn along the railing. That same white mare from before was propped upright against a turntable. Many of my peers were dancing with reckless abandon. My two chaperones decided to make for a table filled to the brim with foods, drinks, and snacks. Iridescent light blanked the featureless floor, turning it to an aurora filled sky.
Incidentally, one of the reason I was not one to attend most social gatherings? What would qualify as Equestrian cuisine was, to me, quite unpalatable. For quite a few weeks, I would end end up leaving the latrine filled with more green than brown, if that makes any sense. Thankfully, fruits and sweets were not beyond my consumption, and there was plenty of that to spare.
Trying my best to avoid being swallowed by the miasma of merriment going on, I made my way to the snack table. I decided to indulge in perhaps one of the most immaculately white cakes I’d ever laid eyes on. For a military gathering, no expense seemed to be spared for the catering. As I reclined against a nearby wall, politely consuming the confection in my mouth with a fork and knife. The two ponies who saw it their duty and right to escort me here returned, one of them giving me a drink.
“Here,” croaked the stallion as I took the cup. “Take a few swigs of that. It’ll get you in the right mood for this.”
Curious, I decided to waft the drink a moment, unsure of what it was. Based on the aroma, it was a definitively apple-based beverage. For some reason, apples were quite a common commodity among pony society, even its most ardent socialites. Absent further thought and still brimming with lethargy, I took a sip. Then another soon followed. For whatever reason, the taste of this drink seemed to keep me to it, in spite of it being a mix of appetizing and repugnant. It was a robust drink, though not exactly what I would prefer to quench my thirst in the summer.
I would soon discover, however, that it was not the taste that the stallion intended to win me over with. Before long, I began to feel my conscious self slip away. The room seemed to spin and lose focus, as did the music. My cheeks flushed with redness and a frankly rather dopey grin adorned my face.
Before I knew it, I had gone from the wallflower to the party starter of the evening. Most of my memory from this point was rather hazy. I distinctly remember having danced a storm, adapting some of the stances and movements from my training into a rather unorthodox style that seemed to woo much of the crowd. I could have sworn a few mares - and more disturbingly, stallions - were swooned by my stupor, and made an advance or two upon me. I was enthralled by the beverage, and I became increasingly more aware of that fact, downing ever more of it. Eventually, my body couldn’t withstand what it was receiving, and most of my conscious self decided to close off shop for the evening. My final moments blurred away into the ethers of inebriation.
***
In what I could only assume to be several hours later, I found myself awakening to a splitting pain in my cranium. My eyes first beheld a red, satin carpet emblazoned with a familiar icon of the sun. It was clad with tendrils of solar winds as a bright emblem to greet me. I attempted to check the nearest window, but the light was glaring, forcing me to cover my face to avoid blinding myself. As I attempted to make sense of what had happened, I attempted to take stock. My eyes drifted upward, and I met the purple orbs of a face I was not particularly hoping to be greeted by.
“Good Morning, Lance,” the familiar voice of my mother cooed, sounding eerily serene. “I trust last evening was fun?”
“Last evening?” I parroted, my fingers now swirling about my temples. “What went on last evening?”
“Well, let me see if I can remember,” mother replied, her tone not changing even slightly, remaining cool and collected as she donned a pair of spectacles and unfurled a scroll. “Ostensibly, you danced like a madman in the mess hall, left a rather remarkable hole in the nearby wall, spray painted my walls to read ‘Princess Celestia is so fat because she eats so many cakes’, spent much of the evening without pants on, thereby garnering you an entourage of other inebriated fillies and colts, used a ten-foot pole to spy on the mare’s showers, sent a letter to Twilight concerning one Sentry Flash, convinced Flash Sentry to indulge in illicit activity, and shaved the cutie mark off of my chancellor to make it look as if you yourself had one in an attempt to please me.”
Mother finished her rather exhaustive list of last evening’s crimes with, “And then proceeded to cry until you lost consciousness.”
She lowered her face to meet mine at eye level and frowned. “Perhaps now would be apropos to have a rather important talk.”
Suddenly, what was once confused pain now became a rather sobering, saddening realization of the fact that I had become rather intoxicated, and proceeded to lose myself. Inside me were demons. Demons that I was not aware even existed nor that I had even repressed them. That list had such levels of perversions and infractions that made me very much wonder why I had not a mare at my side now. Do cutie marks grow back? I would think so.
Speaking of which, oh dear sun above, I still had the Chancellor’s attached to my thighs.
Mother kindly drew curtains acrossed the stained glass portraits and took a seat at her throne of gold.
“Lance, since you came into our life so many years ago, I and the rest of the Royal Court have seen you blossom into a fine example of a proper soldier in improper conditions. However, what we have also noticed is that in your attempt to better your physical capabilities, your mental—least of all your emotional and social ones—are very lacking. Your superiors consistently note your lack of interaction with other ponies. They use such words as ‘ascetic’ and ‘loner’ to describe you. While it is true that a soldier - much less a Royal Guard- must certainly be careful of standing alone, they are at their best when their friends, allies, and comrades stand with him. And up until last evening, you stood alone.”
I felt a sadness pang in my heart as I hung my head low. Mother responded with a much softer countenance.
“I asked a guard to gather your friends to confirm what happened,” she sighed.
A nearby guard looked curiously to me. “He has friends? He has the personality of a plasticine potato.”
Mother shook her head. “They can very much confirm what went on last night as true,”
In an unexpected twist, I found mother’s wing draping across my shoulders as she supported me upward.
“I understand that you are not a pony. To this day, even my dearest student cannot yet find the terminology or history of what exactly you are. You aren’t a pony. But, that doesn’t mean you can’t learn what it means to be a pony, and learn how to become friends with one..”
Mother nodded to a guard waiting at the door. He replied in kind and opened it, inviting a familiar purple-green drake into the room.
“Hence, since you are one who prefers more personal education, I have enlisted the aid of Twilight’s faithful familiar, Spike,” she announced in a low voice, to avoid exacerbating my symptoms any further. “He has been in a similar state as you, and has learned what it means to be a pony and chosen to be a part of pony society. Therefore, he should be able to help you.”
“Help me?” I asked, my tears only barely restrained by the embrace of her wing. “How can he help me?”
Celestia smiled, and released me. She produced a large scroll and laid it out before me. The scroll contained a large map detailing Equestria’s topography and that of the lands neighboring it.
“Spike, in his youth, had at one point went on a journey to find his true nature. He went to places far and wide away from Equestria’s borders, and discovered his identity. Today, I invite you to do the same,” she gallantly replied, her wings outspread. “It matters not for how long you travel, nor how far you go. What matters is that you see the world through your own perspective, as Spike once did, and that you are better for it. For this purpose, he will accompany you on this journey of yours.”
“Me?” Spike quipped. “But what about Twilight?”
“Twilight will do well in your absence, Spike,” Celestia curtly chuckled. “She’s not a young filly anymore, nor you a young drake. Although, if you’d like, you may send her and I both letters along your travels to keep us informed of your accomplishments.”
The both of us replied simply, “I see.”
“And what about you, Mother?” I asked, worried. “Do you not worry of my well-being? I could get killed going outside of Equestria! I have heard many stories of dangerous folk that lie beyond our borders.”
“And I am aware of this,” Mother replied. “Believe me when I say that I am only acting in your best interest.”
“And your best interest is to send me outside Equestria on what could very well be my death march?”
The room went silent at that remark, as did I, once I realized what I had just said.
“I am... aware of the ramifications,” Celestia sighed, her horn going to my shoulder. “You need not embark on this journey just yet. I will give you as much time as you need.”
I felt mother’s warm mantle cover me in its golden light.
I tried to run what mother said through my head again to make sure I was lucid. She was sending me on a journey to better myself, after just finishing a rather exhaustive rant on how much I had already failed. I had shaved the cutie mark off a grown stallion, and this was her idea of helping me?
A quick look at mother’s rather stone-faced countenance confirmed that not only was she serious about this, but she was also presenting me with little option of refusal other than prolonging the inevitable.
Celestia offered her hoof to me, which I took timidly as she rose me from a pathetic bow to a more dignified kneel.
“Know this, Lance,” she told me in a voice soft and calm a flock of doves. “Should you ever be at a loss at any point during your adventures, I and Aunt Luna will be with you every step of the way.”
Oh, so you aim to spy on me?
She rose her horn to align with the emblem of her and her sister circling the sky together.
“All you have to do is look up.”
For whatever reason drove me to do so, I lost all other thought and buried my face in mother’s chest, letting my sadness out free and wild.
“There, there,” she sighed, wrapping a wing around me once more. “Just let it all out.”
A pregnant pause took the room for a good while before either of us shuddered a word again.
Wait. If she just said she would be watching me... would that mean? No wait, I do that at night...
Suddenly, the doors creaked open again.
“When you are done tending to Nephew’s squalor, perhaps it would be prudent to educate him on ‘The Birds and The Bees’, as they call it these days.”
My face remained as red as an apple for much of the morning after.
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Explains why the guards had their asses kicked by changelings. Spent all the money they could have used to train them on fucking cheesecake and hay.
...a bit late isn't it to decide that NOW he is old enough to hear it?
2927003 Yeah, fuck her.
That was just a solid 'Yeeeeah, no. Just get the fuck out of here, you're an embarrassment' from her there. From everything we've seen of her, she really doesn't seem to care for him, like, at all. She only took him in because it was the only plausible option, and she foisted him off on Shining and Cadence for god knows how much of his life.
Not to mention how skullfuckingly racist she's being here.
Man, fuck that bitch.
2927422>>2927003
There seems to be some misunderstanding here. The whole speech Celestia made was based on the idea that even non-ponies like Spike can, if they work towards understanding the culture, assimilate and become a part of it.
Spike had grown up amongst ponies, and in spite of his baser draconic instincts, was able to adopt an Equestrian mode of thought, essentially becoming part-pony, as the episode "Dragon Quest" showed. Hence why she's having Spike go with him, as he's not only well-traveled, but knows the ins-and-outs of Equestrian culture.
However, I understand that the way it's worded makes Celestia sound like a condescending twat. Bear in mind, this is not entirely dissimilar to the way Celestia treated Twilight and her shut-in ways.
As for sending Lance to the Crystal Empire, it was more for the sake of being sure not to cause unrest from an alien life form. After all, remember "Bridle Gossip"? Canterlot would probably had a few heads turned. After all, Twilight, Spike, and perhaps Pinkie Pie, are among the only people who are aware of the basic concept of humans, and even they didn't understand what humans were.
For some reason, I anticipate a visit to a certain castle ruin in the Everfree.
2928268 But what she's saying is 'I don't know what you are, but whatever it is, it's not as good as us. If you try, though, you might be lucky enough to be like us'.
2928787
Of course, that's not what she meant. She wasn't comparing ponies as better or worse; she was simply saying that he hasn't really tried to adopt equine standards and practices, and has been rather asocial.
2928822 That may not be what she MEANT, but that's still what she said.
2928268 You forgot to mention Lyra
2935517
Not sure where she factors into this, but hey.
2935673 The concept of humans. Lyra is known to be obsessed with them.
2935758
Well, I was trying to avoid the old stereotype.
2935881 You mean cliche. A stereotype refers to a group of people. Suppose you look at the mane 6, specifically Twilight and Rarity. You might think "all unicorns are very smart". That is a stereotype.
Keep in mind that cliches are not bad. It's how they're used and the scenes around them that makes the difference.
LIKE ME YOUR STORY DEVELOPS WELL SERIOUS THOUGHT TO INITIALY JAJAJAJA A GIRL (THAT HAPPENS TO NOT PAY ATTENTION) EVEN TO THE STAR IS A LITTLE INSECURE AND FUNKY BUT I THINK IT IS PART OF ITS DEVELOPMENT AND I THINK THAT WILL BECOME A I HOPE GOOD SOLDIER OUT OF TRAVEL AND DEVELOP YOUR PERSONALITY
(SORRY FOR MY ENGLISH I'M STILL LEARNING TO WRITE AND READ AND THAT MY MOTHER TONGUE IS THE SPANISH)
OK GREETINGS
baisicaly im going of on a rant here...
.
The way i see the cider scene is that the cider works differently apon hummans and ponies.
for ponies, its just a slight intoxicating.But to hummans its like 12 dozen shots (the most fowerful of all) all at once.
whoever gave Lance that apple cider should have conciquences.
also,it would be hularious if the stallion who gave him cider was the one with the cutie mark shaving!
also at what age is Lance Petal?im still not sure
.
I read his voice as Blackadder through this entire chapter.