Chapters Things have been steadily going downhill for me. Sure, the number of daily social faux pas had gone down; but the ache in my chest only got worse. I hate these ponies, and what they’ve done to me. Ripped out of my own little corner of space and time by a purple know-it-all, I was “graciously,” as I was told many times, given a place to stay. Yeah, because I’m intruding upon your life of my own volition. I don’t think about my life back home anymore; it hurt just too goddamn much. I don’t know what happened to me back on Earth. Did my body just disappear? Did I die? I don’t know, and I don’t think I’ll ever know. Apparently, summoning me here was kinda like shoving your hand into a box of toys, and pulling one out. Sure, it was easy enough to grab it, but it’s impossible to tell exactly where it was, how it was oriented, and even how long it had been there. Im stuck.
Ive been here about 6 months now. I “live,” if it can ever be called that, in Twilight Sparkle’s basement. My cot was too short for length, my blanket too thin for the damp basement, and my “bathroom” is a rusting emergency chemical shower with a small toilet next to it. Why that toilet is there is beyond me. Most of my time is spent down there. I enjoy it more than socializing with the condescending ponies above. Besides, it reminds me of my room back home. Maybe not the earthen floor, but the cavelike aspects of it. My nights, however, are not usually spent in my “apartment.” The purple bitch upstairs locks the door at night ever since I sucker-punched the rainblow bitch for taunting my whole situation, but she seems to have forgotten about a little window in one of the corners. I look up at the stars at night. Its partially comforting, and partially terrifying. None of the stars are the same. I’m not even allowed the comfort of finding Orion during the winter months. At the same time, the nights were wonderful; the lack of light pollution was a nice thing. Not only that, but I discovered the forest of the Everfree and, within it, Zecora. Thus far, she has treated me the most… human… Even better, I found that she ritually smoke Cannabis Satvia, and readily allows me to take ounces at a time for free. My now rampant drug abuse, which is hard to conceal when you can only smoke in a confined basement, keeps me going nowadays… barely.
“Suicide is morally wrong,” she said. “It is selfish, and a horrible thing to do. Next time, think about all of the ponies who would miss you if you actually went through with it.” And with that, she left me to my own thoughts… I still wonder if she did that on purpose. Either way, Pinkie is always watching me. Maybe not visually, but with that infuriating “Pinkie Sense.” That’s how she found me the first time. She “feels” like something bad is going to happen… I hate it. They won’t even let me die. I’m like a fucking plaything. I still haven’t met these notorious Princesses, something about restoring a lost portion of their empire, I wasn’t paying attention. You would think that 6 months after First-fucking-Contact, they would allow me to bask in their glorious fucking presence, but no. Im not sure that I want to meet them, based on the behavior of Celestia’s “Faithful Student.”
All I can do now is hope for a fucking miracle.
Its been another starry night. I exhale, the column of smoke rises into the atmosphere, blocking my sight for a couple seconds before it dissipates. I don’t hold it in until it ghosts out like I used to. I have too much to care about that now-a-days. I feel the feeling rush from my lungs to my head, drifting upwards like the smoke I just let out. I heave a sigh of relief, my worries wash away as a dopey smile crosses my features before the euphoria of a large hit passes. While I descend down to a normal level of high, I prepare another hit. This time, I hold it in until no smoke escapes. Good for my lungs? No. Good for my sanity? Absolutely.
“Its been another long night,” I speak to the heavens. Ive taken to talking to the moon, it helps after a long day, and subsequently long night. The moon doesn’t judge. In fact, she is a beautiful, silent listener. Just what I need.
“Thanks for keeping me company.” Maybe it was the pot swirling my brain, but I thought I felt the moon show me a little compassion. “Youre really the only thing that’s stayed even one iota the same around here. Everything else is so… different. Cultures and customs, food, fucking MAGIC.” I almost screamed the word. Im not a bible thumper by any extreme. In fact, my agnosticism became atheism when I arrived here. The existence of magic doesn’t frighten me, nor do I think it to be the work of the devil. No, I hate the damn stuff because of what its done to me. Its taken so much from me, and it leaves me so very… powerless. Magic is how these ponies are sapient, and thus everything without it is a “dumb animal.” Which I is one of them. Infuriating is a word I use a lot recently. It’s the most apt word choice though. A lot of the time I want to cut loose and strangle one of them. Show just how fucking animalistic I really am. But then they win, so I don’t. I come back to my basement and smoke until the lack of light is deafening, and then I smoke a little more.
Today was one of those days. The rainblow bitch kept baby-talking me, asking “do you miss your mommy little guy?” FUCK, I want to beat her brains out. Preferably after raping her throat raw.; thatll teach you for being such a bitch… Wow, that was dark. Time for another hit. I watch the smoke dance upwards again, framed by the small window I leaned out. My apathy sets in, and I just stare upwards again, barely shifting in my jerry-rigged seat up on the shelf. The sound of hoofsteps and movement breaks my reverie. Standing to my immediate right is a dark blue unicorn. I stare at her, and she stares back. The look of disgust that usually crosses most unicorns’ faces when they see me is absent, a look of curiosity in its place.
“You gonna run away yet?” I ask, taking another short rip. “Or are you gonna go tell on me?” The smoke escapes my mouth with my words, forming a temporary screen of mist between us.
“No,” she said, “Ive just come to converse.” Her transatlantic accent isn’t as posh as the white one’s. In fact, its nowhere near as obtrusive as Rarity’s; more of a light dusting as opposed to Rarity’s coat of paint.
“Well, youre shit out of luck, Im not much of a conversationalist.” Another cloud. “But if youre willing to shut up, you can stay.” The nod of her head is enough for me, and we both sit in silence, gazing upwards. The occasional puff of smoke the only real movement.
“It’s a beautiful night.” The soft statement by her was like a gunshot through the silence. It wasn’t unpleasant though, oddly enough.
“It is. It reminds me of home sometimes, if I don’t look hard that is.”
“Hows that?”
“The stars look the same, but theyre all in the wrong places.” I say without moving. “I don’t recognize any constellations.”
“You had constellations in your world?” I paused before answering, not many ponies knew I was from elsewhere. Most assumed I was some sort of Everfree creature. Please, nothing in that forest is as scary as a human could be.
“Yeah, many. Earlier in history, people used them to predict the future, used them in medicine, just about anything and everything. I used to look up in the winter and find one called Orion. Im not sure what the significance behind him is…. was… but he was easy to spot.” I traced the hourglass figure into the ground; two points for the shoulders, another two for the hips, and then six across the middle for his belt and sword. “Im not exactly sure if this is what he looked like. I didn’t exactly examine him every time I looked up, but its close enough.”
Neither of us said anything else. Eventually, the sun began its ascent into the sky, and I heard Twilight’s steps from her bed to her bathroom. The hot water pipe above me started to vibrate, signaling the beginning of her day.
“You should get going,” I say, “You wouldn’t want to be caught speaking to the freak locked in Twilight’s basement.” I paused, looking for the words. “I don’t know who you are, or why you up and decided to stay the night with me... but thank you.” She gave a small smile, responding with a nod. As she trotted away, she called over her shoulder,
“You shall be seeing us again soon.” I didn’t ponder what she said, I was already closing the window.
Night comes surprisingly fast when you sleep through the day. Twilight was already in bed, she probably had a bunch of fun out with her friends… bitch… I watch the sun go down, casting reds, oranges, yellows, and purples across the sky. It would be beautiful if I wasn’t in such a bad mood again. I took a long puff as the last rays left the sky. The sky darkened, and that’s when I saw it. Directly out from the window, there he was. Orion hung in the sky, a rock of familiarity.
“Huh…. Maybe these princesses do answer prayers,”
Starry Night Chapter Two: Exodus
This following morning’s been a groggy one to say the least, Ive got a bad case of burnout. After seeing Orion hanging there in the sky, I had a celebratory smoke. Sure, I was smoking already, and I would have either way, but this one was celebratory. ‘Maybe not everything in the world is a piece of shit’ was the thought that consumed me that night. The feeling’s gone this morning. I might just bake all day today, and damn the consequences. For some reason, I don’t think that would be a good idea.
While going through my normal routine, I start thinking back to my time at home, my life before I arrived in this Technicolor hellhole with nothing but what was on my person walking to my car from my house. I don’t usually do so, but Im feeling sentimental today, I guess. Memories of my paint, my friends, and my family come to mind. In that order, in fact. I miss making art. Its always been a way for me to calm down a little, catharsis at its best, right?
Barely 21 when I finally got back to them after being dragged along by the family for community college. After being alone for so long, moving back to my home town was the best feeling ever. I never made friends easily back home. Sure, I was a likable guy, but I was always everyones buddy, nobody’s friend. Especially in Florida. Fuck Orlando. The place sucks. The rich are snobby, the poor are mooches, and the middle don’t give a fuck unless they already know you.
My family was a whole other can of worms. One I don’t feel like opening. I exhale smoke out the window, and the action breaks me out of a reverie. Fuck… when did I light this? I put it out on the steel shelf, but the damage is done, I can feel the mist start to cloud my brain. The first rip is always the hardest. The feeling stops expanding after a couple lifelong seconds, and I smile a little. Maybe one hit was a good idea. Good job subconscious, thanks for looking out for me.
It isn’t long before I hear frantic hoofbeats above me. Twilight must be upset that she doesn’t have exactly the golden ratio of quills and ink to love poems written about sea turtles or something. Obsessive compulsive bitch. However, my silent ridicule of her is interrupted by a very unusual sound: the door to the basement opening.
Luna and I have waited long enough. We had assumed that Twilight could take care of the newest addition to Equestria, but it seems that she was… lacking in certain regards. While I am upset, I am more confused as to why she would act this way. It seems that her years of living in Ponyville have affected her in some rather negative aspects, namely the inability to accept outsiders, as with Zecora. It is high time that I take personal action. It took little thought as to how I would berate my pupil. Yes, she would learn something from this that I had thought she had learned before today. The poor creature locked in the basement will be released, and hopefully my sister and I will be able to salvage what little faith we can with this creature, the name of whom we do not yet even know.
It has been a long time since I have stretched my wings. My advisors, without fail, have a chariot ready for myself whenever I announce my intention to go anywhere. While I do appreciate their concern, I am still the Goddess of the Sun. Neigh indestructible, and without equal in power. Well, besides my sister, of course. She was back at the castle, impatiently awaiting my return. I had implored her that she come with me on this trip, but her night with the creature had put her behind on her necessary work for the kingdom. Reprimanding my students is one of my least favorite activities, and I could use the support she would offer, however, she would greet us at the castle.
The town of Ponyville is beautiful from the air. The thatched roofs are wonderfully quaint compared to the tiling of the Canterlot houses. I approached the Library from the air, and settle myself quietly at the door. Some ponies have noticed my arrival, but none come any closer. I cannot be that intimidating, can I? Nevertheless, I knock on the small door. I hear my student’s voice from within call ‘Come in!’ It is happy and carefree. She knows not what lies on the other side of the door. I gather myself, this would not be easy.
As I opened the door, she was facing the book shelves.
“Welcome to the Golden Oak Library, how can I help you today? Princess!?” Her surprise evident in her tone as she turned and caught sight of me. She really did not know what was coming, this really was not going to be pleasant. She quickly knelt into a bow, although I would have none of it.
“May I come in?” I make sure to convey that it was not a simple request.
“Of, of course! Please, come in!” She hurriedly stacks books in an orderly fashion, glancing occasionally towards me. “May I offer you anything, tea, cupca..”
“I will keep this brief, Twilight. I am here to pick up our guest.”
“Yes, of course, Ill go get him.” She nearly tripped over herself getting to the door to the basement. It was unlocked, but closed. As soon as it was opened, a very light grassy aroma drifted out. “Kyle! Get your things! The Princess is here for you!” Kyle, what an odd name. There were sounds of movement from down below before hoofsteps sounded from the stairs. He had to crouch to pull himself under the door. When Twilight and Luna had said the creature was tall, they had not been exaggerating. He stood a hornslength taller than herself! He could rest his… muzzle… on top of her head.
“Here he is, Princess! I hope th“ I interrupted her with a slight cough as I pulled out a familiar scroll. Confusion crossed her features.
“My friends and I all learned an important lesson this week: Never judge a book by its cover. Someone may look unusual, or funny, or scary. But you have to look past that and learn who they are inside. Real friends don't care what your "cover" is; It's the contents of a pony that count. And a good friend, like a good book, is something that will last forever. Signed, Twilight Sparkle.” While reading, her features went from confusion, to horror. I gave her a very pointed look before burning the scroll.
Kyle, for his part, appeared indifferent as I began, but as the note went on he seemed to grow more bitter. However, as I finished the note, he glanced over at me. His eyes grew wide, and he seemed to notice my look aimed at Twilight. A grin appeared on his face, and then a slight chuckling, and then a hearty cackle as I burned the letter. Im sure his laughter echoed around the library as we teleported back to the castle.
Author's Note
Well, Ive decided to keep going with it. I have a buddy of mine prereading it so I dont sound like a complete dunce with every chapter. Enjoy! Please let me know what I should fix, this is my... well, not first fic, but the first one Ive put any real thought into. Goodnight, all!
A Walk Through the Gardens
Starry Night Chapter 3: A Walk Through the Gardens
Luna
“You chambers are here,” I declared whilst pointing to my left. Kyle flinched at the word ‘chamber,’ maybe I was slightly too loud. “You have all of the necessities you shall need for the time being inside.” He trudges up to the door, wrapping his had around the knob and opened the door before pausing.
“Thank you… for Orion.” He mumbles, “That was very kind of you.” He did not allow a response before he slipped into the room, and closed the door behind himself.
It has been three days, and nopony but I has laid eyes on the creature. I would stop by twice or thrice daily to deliver some food. Much of the time, the human was brooding in the darkness, a stark contrast to the jaunty music that was coming from the record player. Kyle arrived in our world with nothing more than a saddlebag and its contents. Among them was a single record that he has been playing constantly. I have been meaning to ask about it, but every time I visited little to no words were spoken. We would sit in an uncomfortable silence, the sweet smelling herb that he smokes hanging heavily in the dark room.
“Princess,” said the Pegasus Royal Guard, “The Creature is out of its room, in the gardens ma’am.”
“Thank you for informing me, you may return to your post” A short exchange, to be sure, but I cannot think of a way to continue. -sigh- While my speech is improving, social pleasantries are still beyond me. The night is cool and clear, a perfect night for stargazing. In the darkness of the gardens, a small ember glow is slowly making its way. I descend from my balcony, feeling the cool breeze ruffle my fur as I glide. I alight beside him, and he turns enough to see who I am, never breaking stride. I walk beside him, again in an uncomfortable silence.
“I try to feel something, all the time.” He said, breaking the silence; his voice monotone and listless. “I used to feel anger. I used to feel sadness. I would rage over how hopeless everything is, and feel useless at the same time. I felt so much that I tried to end it all. But now, I just feel… Nothing... I’m totally alone in a strange world, and I feel nothing.” He turned to me, eyes bloodshot and bagged, “Shouldn’t I feel something?” All was silent once again.
“Banished to the moon for a millennium for my transgressions, I felt anger and sadness as well. I have never felt empty. I will not give thee pretty words; I have no advice in which to give you.” This earns a wry smile from him as he exhales a cloud.
“People usually lie and say everything will be ok, and that life will go on, and all of that bullshit. Thanks for being straight with me.”
“One would not expect gratitude for a lack of help.” A snort,
“One would not expect themselves to be forcibly dragged into some alternate reality on the average Tuesday.” I chuckled at the dark humor.
“I suppose not.” The atmosphere of this new silence was much less oppressive. We made three circumferences of the garden before either I spoke again, the small ember of his herb long gone. “Your record… what kind of music is it? It is a medley of many different sounds.”
“Well, I wonder why, it does seem to be music… I’m sorry, that was unfair of me. It is a collection of different artists. More than one record, actually, two in all. It’s a vinyl of a concert called The Last Waltz. Gah, there has to be some kind of symbolism relating to my situation that can be taken from that… Without going into detail, it’s the last performance of a band; The Band, actually. They decided to invite a bunch of the artists that had worked with over the years for one last go… there definitely has to be some kind of relation to… Oh well.” He groped around in his pocket, pulling out a slightly crushed little tube of the herb, and lit it with a match. “I’ve just now realized how insane that must sound to you.”
“Not at all, it is much like a going away celebration. We have many of those in these lands.”
“No, no, no. I mean the music itself. It’s the first truly alien music to you guys. The first music from a totally distant culture. You could write a thesis on that shit.” Taken aback, I quickly responded,
“Oh, no, it is quite entertaining! Do not feel that I take your preference of music as unpleasant!” He is perturbed for a second before letting out a small chuckle.
“’Shit’ is a… what’s the word… replacement, I guess? For just about any noun… I guess crossing cultures from different realities is a bit different than just across one world.”
“Oh… I see… And yes, I suppose it is.” More silence.
“It’s getting late, and I’m getting pretty damn tired. Thanks for sticking around with this asshole.” I ignore what must be another strange use of words from his world, and we make our way back to the exit of the gardens.
“Of course. I will be by to deliver another meal tomorrow morning. Would you mind if we conversed more about this Last Waltz?” He seemed surprised for a moment before responding.
“Sure, why not?”
Author's Note
No excuses, but I’m thinking many of you who are following this were definitely not expecting to ever hear from this ever again, amirite?
