Dimensional Rift

The morning starts off with waking up to whistling coming from upstairs. When I open the door I ask, “Alright Ayla, whats got you in a good mood today? More studying the creature from the cave?”

The noise stops and out from the next room comes a small lizard wearing a chef hat and apron while holding a mixing bowl. We stare at each other and I break first, slumping against the wall. I cover my face with both hands and mutter to myself, “For the love of God she even has a familiar under her control making her breakfast. If I pissed her off I don't think I would know I died until five minutes later,” time to start being super well behaved, getting vaporized does not sound like fun. The familiar is tapping on my shin with the handle of the mixing spoon to get my attention.

"Um, hi? What are you and why were you in the basement?" it asks.

“Spike, who are you talking with down there?” I hear come from upstairs.

“I don't know, if you brought home the thing that you've been talking nonstop about since yesterday I think it's that,” the familiar replies.

“He's awake? Give me a minute and I'll be right down, take him into the kitchen and get him some food,” at these words the dragon beckons me into the kitchen and I waste no time scouring the cabinets looking for stuff to eat. By lady fortunes good graces I find enough stuff to put together an omelet. When its done and on a plate I sit at the table to eat, finally noticing the two other inhabitants of the house staring at me while eating slowly, obviously distracted by me making myself at home. Besides me being in the spotlight, nothing happens during breakfast. After that we start getting into the name game once again.

This kind of mental stamina is nearly unheard of, it has been eight hours and Ayla is still as enthusiastic as when we started. It only got worse when she realized the snapping I use is "helping" my memory and totally not cheating. I need to take a break to unwind at least a little before we continue naming everything in existence. Going over what we have covered I put together a simple sentence, “Need rest, we start again soon. I get food. Read a little,” the halting English hurts to say, but it's all words she hopefully remembers and it gets the message across.

“How can you read? You have no book,” I think I prefer my way of only using words both of us understand, but the meaning is clear enough.

I grab my right ear to display Null Set to say, “Book,” I grab my eyelid gently, wiggle it around a little, and say, “Page,” I exaggerate closing my eye then point to it while saying, “Read,” well, now I have a unicorn looking at my ear like she wants to tear it off and study every facet of Null Set. I cover Null Set with a hand protectively and in doing so Ayla becomes aware that she looks like a hunter after her prey.

Grabbing a small bowl of cherries I sit down to read the next bit of book six, Where Loyalties Lie. Morgan recommended this book series to me saying it could crack a smile on anyone’s face. She must have never made it past the third book, what started as following a lovable sex crazed maniac's shenanigans has turned into an emotional nose dive that only stops punching you in the gut for a minute so it can get ready to start working on your face. The only reason I'm still reading this is the vain hope that the author will stop at some point and give this guy the happy ending he rightfully deserves. I finish a few chapters ready to get my mind back into doing something not depressing, like translate a language.

After a few days we start focusing on concepts and actions. The slower pace to ensure correct translations is frustrating Ayla but allow me a little bit of breathing room. Things are only going to get more complicated from here on out, but at least we can get across a fair amount of ideas now. Ayla calls down Runt a little after lunch to tell him to go get some more supplies, mostly paper, ink, and food. Fifteen minutes after Runt leaves I feel eyes on me coming from behind me. Putting my hand up to stop Ayla from continuing I turn around to see what's giving me the evil eye. The only thing there is a large armoire that has some dresses that we used for translating colors, fabric types, and oddly enough a few gem stones.

Fearing the worst I ask Ayla, “You have mimics here?”

“No, why?”

“I feel like I am being watched,” is my response to her. To myself I say, “Well time to feel like a moron again,” the only thing looking back at me from inside are the too bright reflections of sapphires from one of the dresses.

The decorative topmost portion explodes outward in a shower of confetti as I hear, “Oh you're good, you almost caught me,” I hop back from pure shock only to slip and fall onto the sofa. My vision fills with an upside down pink face. The next words out of this one's mouth put everything else that has happened since I got here to shame, “Hi I'm Pinkie Pie whats your name?”

Pinkie, a pony who shouldn't know I am here, who shouldn't even know I exist, who somehow slipped past the two of us and into the dresser just asked me my name. In my own language. That's it, my brain just blue screened. “... Lyndon,” is the only word I can say at the moment since that is the last input I gave myself before the crash happened.

“Pinkie, where did you learn his language and more importantly how did you know he was here?”

“I don't know his language Ayla, I just know how to say hi in all of them. It's an essential skill for being the best welcomer and party planner in Ponyville. I saw Runt running around getting stuff alone and I said to myself, 'That only happens when Ayla is super busy studying. I should give her some coffee cake to help her stay awake all night.' When I got here I saw Lyndon here too so I wanted to surprise him, do you think it worked?” She comes back into view, “Were you surprised? You don't look very surprised.” I continue staring into nothing and blink, not responding. The face recedes from sight, “I think Lyndon isn't doing too well Ayla.”

A purple face this time comes into my view to wave a hoof in my face, the air it creates makes me blink repeatedly, “Pinkie, he's fine, I think you just surprised him a little too well and he's trying to figure out how you did all of that. Ugh, now it's going to take even longer to get this all done,” she faceplants into my gut a bit hard but at this point I don't care anymore.

The door opens to Runt coming back from running errands. He stops for a second to see all of us doing nothing really and sighs before heading into the kitchen to put everything away.

“Oh I almost forgot, here's your coffee cake and his super deluxe brownie,” the sudden smell of sweets is enough to jump start me into conscious thought once again. On the table are a big piece of cake and a brownie so covered in toppings that a dentist would cry.

I should know better at this point but I have to ask, “Ayla, where did this come from?” she points to Pinkie who is now sucking on an oversized lollipop.

She pulls it out of her mouth to say, in her native tongue fortunately, “Dig in, the brownies yours,” it's being held with her hoof, like its only the palm of an invisible hand.

Before I think about that too hard I stop myself and just bury my head into my hands, “Nope, not going to even try this time. I don't think I can handle a second malfunction in one day. If Rainbow doesn't break my body, Pinkie is going to break my brain.”

When I look at the treats on the table the cake is floating by Ayla. I gaze at the left behind brownie trying to judge if its worth the risk of killing myself for it. In the end I decide against it, no amount of sugary craftsmanship is worth having my tombstone read death by chocolate. I may have made the right decision, but that doesn't mean I'm not regretting it every moment its still on the table. If it stays here too much longer I'm going to cave so I grab it and ask Ayla, “You want this Ayla, or do I give it to Runt?”

“Give it here,” she replies with a grin that only chocolate can give. As I hand it over Pinkie's mane deflates, like her very body got sad that I gave away something I was supposed to enjoy. For the love of Christ, can't she go five minutes without trying to cause a breakdown? Ayla notices this as well and takes the initiative to explain what's going on, “He did the same thing to Cowboy when she brought food after I went to go get him at the farm. He wants to make sure nothing in it will hurt him. Think of it like the baked bads Cowboy made when she tried to help you while she was tired. How many ponies ate them thinking they would be super delicious only to end up in a hospital bed?” Pinkie's eyes widened at that and shuddered a little bit, but went back to normal right after, along with her mane. Still not going to think about that.

“Well I guess that makes sense, but you really should get him to start calling you Ayla instead of Ayla,” Pinkie says that last word in my language. I'm not sure if my lack of concern is just that or if its a sign that my brain is just simply not accepting the input anymore, “It sounds nice but it's not your name, in fact it almost sounds as nice as that other word he said not too long ago, rainbow. Rainbow, rainbow, rainbow.” She hops with each time she says rainbow. “You think Dashie would like it? I can see it now, Rainbow Dash the rainbow...”

Great, now shes vibrating. Everything Pinkie has done so far breaks the laws of common sense that I don't actually know if anything about her can surprise me anymore. If this was serious Ayla would have at the very least a look of concern so I sit back to watch whatever this is unfold, “Ayla, guess what, Lyndon got Dashie's name right!” she exclaims just before taking notice of the clock. “Oh oops look at the time I gotta go keep the shop open while the Cakes are out, talk to you two later, bye,” the ability to talk without taking a breath, check. Leaving without appearing to open the door, check. I'm going to have some strange as hell dreams tonight.

“How can there possibly be a Pinkie sense for that?” Ayla groans into a pillow. So on top of everything else she can do, Pinkie can divine the meaning of my language by saying them over and over again, or something. I can't work in these conditions, I need things to make some sort of sense again.

I call Ayla's name to get her attention, “Ayla, time for a long break. First there is one thing I want to check,” grabbing a bunch of colored markers, I draw something for the fist time in a while. The pegasus I call Rainbow and an actual rainbow.

Ayla just looks defeated at this point with her head only barely high enough to see my drawing for a moment before dropping to stare at the floor again, “Yes, she was named after her rainbow mane,” I can't really think of a way to cheer her up so I do the next best thing, fix my head. I Get comfortable in a corner of the room with a pillow, close my eyes, turn off my abused brain again, and meditate listening to music for a good four hours.

I zone back into reality to find Runt writing down what Ayla is saying, not wanting to interrupt I just stay still until the transcribing is done. The letter is finally done as the familiar rolls it up, binds it, and then promptly incinerates it with emerald fire. I make myself known by getting up to head to the kitchen, breaking my chances at longest time imitating a stone statue. After stocking up on a boatload of various nuts I get back to the open area to ask Ayla a simple question, “Is there any more you want to do today?”

“Yes, I want to get a little more done before going to sleep,” Ayla responds while pulling out the “big book of everything ever” to write more stuff in. This time the session only goes until her familiar falls asleep since he's the one choosing the vocabulary. What we exchanged this time was a rather eclectic set of words. The way he has to think about which words to have translated makes me think he's to be reciting a list of some sort, but what kind of list has scratch, lily, berry, bell, and caramel right next to each other? On the other hand, I now know Twilight's and Spike's real names to go along with Rainbow and Pinkie. Twilight heads upstairs with Spike being carried along and I retreat to the basement.

Wanting to have a restful night I give Null an order, “Null Set, if I start dreaming about Pinkie in any way, kill the dream but leave me sleeping,” when I wake up this reveals itself to be a terrible idea. According to Null Set there were forty two instances that had to be stopped, leaving me almost as tired as when I started. Never thought I would face the drawback of having Null Set using me as a living battery without having bigger problems, like being on the verge of death lost in the desert.

The weeks pass without incident and much to the relief of all parties involved, we cover such a ludicrous amount of material that we now probably have a Ph.D. in the respective foreign language. Less to the relief of all parties involved is the knock on the door immediately after our decision to start finally doing something else. I grab my sandwich and head to the basement to wait out whoever is using the library this time. With just how little the residents of this town use it, I keep forgetting I'm living in a public building. Would Twilight living here count as living on the job or bringing your work home with you? They must have been returning a book or knew exactly what they wanted since I get the all clear from Twilight after three minutes. Or, it could be Pinkie offering me another brownie of murder. I hate my life.

“Oh, right. I was supposed to give this to you first,” she says while pulling back the brownie and presenting a piece of paper instead. I take it and immediately I start getting a headache. It's an ingredient list, written in my language. How she managed to get her hands on Twilight's notes I will never know. Reading through it everything seems to be in order of most used to least but just to be perfectly sure this is only a bad idea instead of a catastrophic one I ask our middleman.

“Twilight, can you ask Pinkie what exactly, 'Super Special Spices' are for me?”

Twilight's response is, “I already tried to get her to tell me when I was transcribing the list, I don't think asking a second time will change her mind,” thankfully pointing out that she wrote the translation rather than Pinkie.

“Had a feeling that was the case. If I die I'm going to haunt the both of you,” if this is as good as it looks then my soul may not be capable of holding enough of a grudge to stay here.

Being the first sweet thing I'm chancing in a month helps too. I hold out my hand for the brownie and Pinkie hands it over, with the amount of toppings piled on this is going to get messy. The first bite reminds me why I love chocolate, the second reminds me that I do in fact have an inhale button just for this kind of occasion. Twilight is looking at me in something, I don't feel like piecing it together right now, while Pinkie has a Cheshire grin. It's already too late, whatever mad scheme Pinkie has planned is already set in motion.

“Well, now that I'm done embarrassing myself,” I say pointedly looking at Twilight, “I'll be back to decide what we're going to do after washing the shame off of my face,” after cleaning up I get back to reading in the kitchen since those two are having a discussion I don't want to interrupt.

"Well I'm off. Bye Lyndon, bye Twilight, bye Spike," Pinkie shouts to everyone here.

"So, what did you two talk about?" I ask Twilight as she comes into the kitchen to get some water.

"She was telling me about a party that she was planning on throwing tomorrow. From the sound of it, it's going to be one of a kind. I'm going to head to sleep early, don't forget to turn off the lights when you're tired too," she says before leaving.

The highlight of my night is finally finishing my book. Still no end in sight for poor Kenny with his mom being murdered, but at least he is able to finally talk to his dad again after fifteen years without hating him. It's a start, right? What really sucks about this is now there's no way for me to keep reading, the newest book was supposed to come out a week after I got transported. I had it on preorder but there's no connection here for me to get it. Getting started on a new book is something to tackle tomorrow.

Tomorrow is going to be me getting out of the house if it kills me. Seriously, if she wasn't capable of magic, punching Twilight in the face to get her to fight me sounds like a brilliant excuse for exercise. Even with that disadvantage, the thought is more tempting than I would like to admit. Maybe I can find a bear to wrestle instead or something.

For future reference, I have Null Set categorize everything we have done by topic. Just in case I can actually do something with the information. Sleep takes me as Null Set continues his work through the night.