PMC: Pony May Cry

by Sunbrony

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Crossover, Human
Length: 1075

Dante finds himself in Equestria, and is none to happy about this development.

Can Dante (yes…the new Dante, sorry) survive in Equestria? Can he learn the magic of friendship? Can he slay the demons that threaten Ponyville while sparing its inhabitants? Will I ask another rhetorical question and pretend its still part of the description?

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-07-08 05:16:20 UTC

Prologue

Dante couldn’t take the nagging feeling anymore.  The once familiar environment of a strip club now felt so uncanny and alien.  The clothes, what little were worn, were made with no skill whatsoever, the cider tasted like shit, and even seeing nail polish was a weird feeling.  Was this really his life?  Was this really all he did in this world?  Had he not learned better after so much time, that there was so much more he could do, so much better he could be?  No one smiled: fitting, given the environment, but it now felt wrong.  The patrons of this establishment were so cruel, much like the society that spawned them, and rarely spoke the truth, trusting no one.  Their greed knew no bounds, and their loyalty was sold so easily.  They were his kind of people.  He belonged with them.

However, it would be best not to think of such things on an empty glass.  “Bartender, another drink over here, and make it a double!”

Back in Limbo

Dante awoke without opening his eyes.  He could tell the sun was shining right on his face.  His head was already throbbing, and the last thing he needed was the blinding sunlight shooting through his window.  “I thought I kept those blinds closed damnit!” Dante tried reaching for them, but his arm wouldn’t connect.  That was weird, given that, hangover or no, he knew where his window was.  He also realized that what he was laying on didn’t feel like his bed.  He begrudgingly felt that the additional pain opening his eyes would cause was worth finding out where the fuck he was.

Dante was in a field, apparently.  He was under a tree, but the sun was too low for the leaves to shade him.  “There aren’t any places like this around...the hell am I?”  Dante stood up, and tried to take in a good view of his surroundings: they were colorful.  They were extremely colorful; too colorful.  Now he understood; he clearly wasn’t in the real world anymore.  “Shit!  Back in Limbo.”

Dante never thought in his life that he could ever think this, but wherever he was looked extremely weird, even for limbo.  It was normally such a chaotic, bloodthirsty place; the world itself would normally be angry with him, and actively seek his death.  This place was just the opposite.  It was friendly and inviting.  This worried him to a degree, but he was no detective, and wasn’t going to stop to try to figure it out.  He still knew the way to escape: find whatever brought you in here, and destroy it.  His sword phased in on his back, as it does when he needs it, and he started walking toward a village he saw in the distance; it was as good of a place to start his search as any.

“Ah-ah-ah-ahh-aaahhhhh!”

A choir of birds echoed the pony’s soft singing.  Other critters of various sizes sat around them, enjoying the performance, it seemed.  Dante was fully caught off guard by this scene.  He could only stop and watch the least violent thing he had ever seen in Limbo.

“Ah-ah-ah-ahh-“ The pony stopped its singing short when it noticed Dante watching, “…oh…um…I’m sorry…I didn’t know anypony else was here…I’ll stop if it’s disturbing you.”

“What the fuck is this?”

“What?  I don’t understand what you-“

The pony was interrupted as Dante dashed toward her, bowling over some of the critters, and grabbed her by the hoof, lifting her in the air.  His other hand grabbed the sword off his back an held it to her throat.  The critters made a variety of noises in protest.

“WHY AM I HERE DEMON?  WHY IS NOTHING EVEN TRYING TO KILL ME?  WHERE IS THE THING THAT BROUGHT ME HERE?  WHY IS THE GROUND NOT OPENING UP UNDER ME?  WHERE IS THE TEXT ON THE FLOOR TELLING ME TO GO FUCK MYSELF?  ANSWER ME DEMON!”

The pony gave no response, other than a shriek, and fell unconscious in Dante’s hand.  Rabbits and foxes began nibbling futilely at his ankles.  Dante finally tossed the limp pony to his side.  “The hell, man…”  The critters attended to their friend, ignoring Dante as he walked away.  He replaced his sword on his back, and headed toward the village again, angry at what he perceived as his wasted time.

A Day in the Life

One…two…three…four…

The shots went down easily: so smooth.  It was rare when Dante could afford the good stuff, as opposed to his normally shitty vodka, not that he stopped to savor it: different road, same destination.  There were girls around, of course, but he wasn’t yet actively involved with any of them yet.  They were simply background decoration; something that was there because they were supposed to be there.  He’d get to them in time.

The other men were all focused on the girls, or their drinks.  No one talked, not really; no one came here to talk.  Conversation in here was rare, and usually just used to kill time, but that didn’t make it any less annoying to hear a prick chime in to interrupt his train wreck of thought.

“So, come here often?”

“Fuckin’ prick…” thought Dante.  He didn’t want to dwell on him, and just wanted to get back to not thinking, but he just wouldn’t stop talking.

“I come here pretty often.  Jenny is the best girl here, I think.  Sarah is pretty good too, but then there’s Candi-“

“Look,” Dante said, slowly raising his head from his drink, “do you think that I come here to talk?  Because I don’t, especially not to men.”

“Fine, asshole,” the man said as he left; heading to another area of the bar.  What signal could he be giving off that told anyone he was a potential conversation buddy.

Five…six…seven…eight…

Many of the men in the crowd had empty eyes, entranced by the girls on stage or at their tables.  Many of the girls had wings and horns, or did they?  They never seemed to still have them if you looked again.  Dante didn’t notice, or he didn’t care; he was used to weird shit.

“So, come here often?”

“Now that’s a little more like it.”  Dante turned to see the features on the enchanting voice that spoke to him, and they did not disappoint.  He was quite pleased with this catch.  “I come in here occasionally.”

“My name is-“

“Not important,” Dante interrupted.  He ordered a drink for his lady du jour, and started looking to find another; these encounters were always better with more friends.

Nine…ten…eleven…?  Fuck, lost count.

Dante took both of his eventual toys out the front door, an arm around each waist, and headed back to his trailer with them.  This night would be the most fun he wouldn’t remember.