*WARNING*
Being that this is based off of a real person that I have never personally spoke to, this story is completely my own creation. Digibrony the character is bound to be fundamentally different from Digibrony the person. Digibrony had no part in the making of this fanfic.
Digibrony slowly and meticulously carved a sigil into the side of a length of copper pipe, concentrating hard not to let the scorer waver as he held it loosely in his magical grip. Several mishaps had taught him the hard way what happened when he slipped up in carving runes, though he doubted much could go wrong with a rune whose sole purpose was to serve as a waypoint for magic moving along leylines between one rune and another, not actually doing anything. However, just weeks ago a slight misalignment of a bubble sigil produced a small shock wave, and he was less than eager to repeat that unpleasant experience, especially if it meant he’d have to purchase another new monitor for his computer.
Plus, he supposed that Mortar and Pestle wouldn’t be happy if he blew another hole into the second story of their home again.
The rune finished, Digibrony nodded to himself as he looked it over. Satisfied with his work, he checked the blueprints he’d drawn out while half drunk the night before, squinting as he tried to make out his wobbly horn writing indicating what needed to be where.
Sugar Cone’s ice cream cart needed a replacement freezer unit, and buying a new one was a lot more expensive than letting Digibrony make a new one from scratch. Much to the chagrin of the cart’s owner, Digibrony immediately tore the freezer unit out, taking it apart and reverse engineering it. Really, he couldn’t blame her for being apprehensive. Her entire livelihood during most of the year relied on that cart after all, and seeing it in pieces probably wasn’t the most awe-inspiring thing.
That said, perhaps it was not the best idea to be working out schematics while drinking if for no other reason than he couldn’t understand his own damn hoof writing.
Taking up the scorer once more, he carefully drew a line down the side of the small pipe, cursing under his breath as the curvature of the object frequently attempted to divert his scoring device. Finally, he reached the end of the pipe, then slid that pipe into a connector piece with a small, amber-hued gemstone set into the side.
Lighting up his horn, he pushed a bit of magic into the dead mana crystal, causing it to spark and fizzle until it reached a somewhat steady glow. Slowly, the leyline drawn on the pipe began to flicker with white light as the magic ran through it for the first time, stopping at the rune until it built up enough power to activate it. The rune quickly became illuminated with white light, and the magic jumped from the rune to the leyline on the other side, confirming that the rune was doing its job.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Digibrony cut off his magic, waiting as the low efficiency of the low quality mana crystal quickly caused it run out of power, draining the glow from the now-sealed lines. Digibrony then disconnected the pipe segment from the piece containing the darkened crystal and set the pipe he’d been working on off to the side to join a stack of about half a dozen more identical pipe sections.
Chucking the scoring device into a drawer of his work bench, Digibrony stretched before retrieving his can of soda, groaning as he remembered its emptiness. Spinning around in his swivel chair, he stood up on all four hooves. His small room was a mess to the untrained eye, but he had everything organized in its own way. His unmade bed lay in the corner beneath a circular window split into four parts by a wooden cross. Wedged between the bed and his workbench was a small end table, on top of which rested a shiny new computer monitor, magic-friendly keyboard, and mouse.
The door was positioned in such a way that anypony entering would bump his chair before they could get in (to his continued annoyance). The remaining wall was occupied by his little used dresser, the top of which was occupied by loose screws and springs and lengths of wire surrounding larger contraptions that often threatened to topple over. Suspended from the ceiling with fishing line were other things: early experiments that fit somewhere between ‘broken’ and ‘working,’ an ever spinning boomerang that was still trying to come back to him, an early and utterly destroyed prototype of a helicopter (Which he made simply because he wanted to hang a helicopter from his ceiling), among other things.
The thing he was really going for, however, sat next to the dresser: a mini fridge buried under a wall of messily labeled cardboard boxes. Approaching the fridge while knowing that the object of his desire wasn’t going to be contained within its white, insulated walls was disheartening, but it had to be done. He opened the door, causing the glass beer bottles contained within to clink against each other. Much like he expected, he did not find any soda.
Sure, he could drink beer, but he was meeting with Berry at the bar later that night and showing up buzzed would be impolite. He was caught somewhere between annoyance and relief, knowing that this meant he’d need to take a trip to the grocery store while also giving him a much needed break from the mind numbing work of fashioning all the pipes for Sugar Cone’s freezer unit.
Grabbing his saddlebag out from under his bed, Digibrony pulled the door open with his magic and descended the quadruped-friendly stairs. Regular stairs that humans had in their houses would be way too awkward for ponies to regularly traverse, so equestrian stairs were much more shallow.
His hooves clicked when they hit the linoleum tile at the bottom of the stairs. Mortar and Pestle, his landlords, were scientists, and their home was their research lab. The majority of the bottom floor was tiled with linoleum simply to keep the place sterile and easy to clean. What exactly they researched was just as much up to speculation as their relationship status was with how much he actually knew about them. Still, he was in no position to complain considering that they put up with all the catastrophes that went with his mistakes in sigaldry.
Turning left into the kitchen, Digi found himself faced with one of his aforementioned landlords; a crimson pegasus with gleaming green eyes and a frizzy blond mane and tail scrubbed plates in the sink. Positioned clearly on her flank was an image of a mortar bowl filled with several leaves. As he approached her, their difference in sized quickly became apparant. Digibrony wasn’t exactly tall, but he towered over her. Caught somewhere between mare and filly, Mortar was well known for her short size and shorter temper, the latter especially when somepony alluded to the former.
“I’m heading to the grocery store.” Digibrony mentioned.
“M’kay.” The older mare responded. “Get some bread while you’re out. Oh, and milk.”
“Sure thing.” Digibrony replied. Digibrony’s hoof was on the door when the sound of smashing glass boomed through the house, followed quickly by a feminine cry that was decidedly Pestle in nature.
“MORTAR!!”
One look shared between Mortar and Digibrony was all it took before the two of them rushed to the door to the laboratory. Mortar threw it open and almost immediately something white flew past them in a blur. A short “Watch out!” was all the warning Digibrony had before Pestle slammed into him. He was knocked from his hooves, sent sprawling by the shear force of the pursuing pink unicorn.
“Sorry!” She shouted in his direction before she slammed into a cabinet, the fleeing object slipping through her hooves. Angrily, Pestle tossed back her silky purple mane and made a jump for it, landing on the table and swatting the air randomly as the blur flew circles around her. The table hopped onto two legs, causing Pestle to shriek as she threw her weight back against the table. It slammed back onto four legs briefly before Pestle’s overcompensation tugged it the other way, tipping it over and spilling the frazzled unicorn mare onto the linoleum tile.
Mortar, apparently recovered from shock, cut off the swift blur as it zipped toward the open window. “Oh no you don’t!” She yelled angrily, throwing her hooves wide to block the exit. The blur stopped momentarily, revealing itself to be a miniature cloud.
“Getitgetitgetitgetitgetit!” Pestle shouted, rubbing the back of her head as she recovered from her tumble.
“Is that a cloud?” Digibrony asked in disbelief, reaching out with magic to restrain it. The cloud momentarily took on a light purple hue before it shuddered, lightning shooting out and striking a cupboard.
“Graaaah!” Mortar leaped at it, her wings flapping twice to compensate for her vertically challenged body. She slapped her hooves around it, her forelimbs shuddering to and fro violently as it began flailing wildly between her forelegs.
“It’s a wild cloud.” Pestle answered, breathing a sigh of relief. Her horn lit up and a glass jar appeared, shimmering with violet light. Mortar quickly shoved the cloud inside it and a magical cork hammered itself into place. The cloud unhappily rushed about inside, slamming into the walls of its glass prison hard enough to jerk the bottle around in Pestle’s telekinetic grip.
“Why,” Digi started, “do you have a wild cloud?”
“Research.” Pestle responded. Pestle was covered in Cadence-pink fur, and Digibrony couldn’t help but compare her long, flowing mane to Fluttershy’s. Whoever designed Pestle probably just took her mane and tail, darkened them to purple and stuck them right on Pestle’s body. Her eyes matched her mane and her cutie mark was a pestle gripped solidly by a human hand.
“None of your business.” Mortar huffed, blowing her blond mane out of her eyes. “You’d better hope that scorch mark washes off.” She gestured to the cabinet where the cloud’s lightning had left a small starburst of soot was spattered on the polished wood surface.
“Oh, don’t be so mean.” Pestle gently nudged open the door to the lab. The jumping jar flew in, presumably to be set down in a more secure location than the last place it was in. “He was only trying to help.”
“I thought you said you’d be careful around the cloud.” Mortar snapped.
“I was careful. I just accidentally wasn’t careful for a few minutes.” Pestle smiled sheepishly, tapping her hooves together.
The rough cobbled street spread out before Digibrony, flanked on either side by trees bristling with autumnal leaves. The running of the leaves had hardly taken place a week ago, but the weather team had yet to bring in the high wind storm needed to clear all the leaves off the trees in town. Soon after would come the first snow storm and winter would arrive in full force.
Shivering, he wished he’d brought that scarf he’d bought last year. Being a unicorn, he wasn’t quite as hardy as earth ponies or pegasi, yet going back to the house just for his scarf would no doubt earn him some teasing from Mortar, especially after all those times that he’d teased her about her height.
The dirt path beneath his hooves inevitably turned to smooth cobblestone, and Digibrony’s nose inevitably picked up the scent of freshly baked, sugary pastries. Hardly more than a dozen feet ahead of him, situated in the center of a spiderweb of converging streets, was the town square, and where two of those streets met, a store with a faux gingerbread roof sat. A sign swayed in the gentle, chilly breeze as it hung from a horizontally mounted post: Sugarcube Corner.
His heart started beating a little bit faster just reading that sign, continuing to increase as he quickly contemplated whether or not to go inside. It was no contest. His hooves made a clip-clop-clip as he made his way to the front door of the confectionery establishment.
A bell tinkled over head as he pushed the door open. It was obvious even to Digibrony that Sugarcube Corner was recovering from a late night party. Streamers and balloons clung stubbornly to many of the surfaces despite the obvious efforts to tidy up. However, the most prominent and eye catching thing in the room, to Digibrony at least, was the pony situated in the center of the store standing on her hind legs with a broom between her fore-hooves, brushing up a slowly growing heap of confetti.
She wasn’t beautiful, per se, but she had some sort of magnetic quality that always made her the center of attention. Her coat was a shining and vibrant pink like only she could be, and her poofy, tangled mess of a mane was most definately made of cotton candy.
Pinkie Pie.
It sounded so good in his head, tasted so sweet when he uttered it. She looked up when she heard the bell. Her eyes, light blue, reacquainted him with the old cliche of beautiful sparkling eyes. There was a reason that Digibrony wrote sporadic poetry about her when the inspiration struck. In both his life as a human and his two year stint as a pony, he couldn’t think of any other subject more worthy of beautiful words than the sugary mass of pink before him.
“Ooh! A customer!” She abruptly chirped, knocking him out of his thoughts. She disappeared in a puff of dust, reappearing behind the counter while the abandoned broom fell to the floor.
He smiled. How anypony couldn’t smile whenever they were with Pinkie was beyond his level of comprehension.
“Hey Pinkie.”
“How’s it going Digibrony? What can I get for you today? How about some cookies! I baked them this morning, but I was also cleaning up after Bon Bon’s birthday party last night so I might have accidentally gotten streamers in them. Heh Heh.”
Digibrony, who hadn’t actually come up with an excuse as to why he was in Sugarcube Corner, nodded, Pinkie’s infectious grin on his face. “What flavor are the streamers?”
“Plastic flavor!” Pinkie giggled. “I should know. I’ve had, like, twenty.”
“Hmm… I’ll take one.”
“Okey dokey!” Before Digibrony could react, she reached behind his ear, revealing a cookie when she pulled her hoof back. “Ta-da!” She held it out to him.
Digi took it incredulously. “How did you do that?”
“Ah ah ah!” Pinkie waggled her hoof, a previously unseen collapsible top hat opening up in her grasp. “A good magician never reveals her tricks.” She perched the pink striped accessory on her brow.
“Right...” Digibrony reached into his saddle back, pulling out a bag full of bits. “How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing. It came from behind your ear remember?” She grinned.
“That’s very kind of you.” Digi blushed under her intense smile. “But I couldn’t possibly...”
“Mm-mm.” She tapped his nose with her hoof. “No means no.”
Digi cherished the lingering feeling of her hoof on his nose. “Thank you.” He turned away before Pinkie could see his growing blush.
“Yo welfome!” Pinkie muttered. A glance backward as he trotted toward the exit revealed her mouth jammed full of streamer cookies. Even that made her look absolutely adorable.
Digibrony only managed a step outside the door before he found himself in the path of a levender unicorn and an orange apple mare. Hurriedly stumbling out of their way, it was all he could do not to lose his focus on levitating his newly acquired cookie.
Of course, there was another reason why Digibrony never told Pinkie about how he felt. Applejack tipped her stetson, bleached by years of sun and dust, as she passed by. Digi’s tongue became a mass of flesh in his mouth, unable to form a proper greeting.
A mare born and raised with the rough and tumble lifestyle of a farm hand graced with enough earthen beauty to belong on a runway. Her body was enveloped in lean muscle, and constantly gave off a scent of apples and dirt that he didn't doubt was worked into her so deeply it would never come out. She nodded to him as she passed him by, her dusty Stetson bobbing with each step. The show truly didn't do her justice. Before he could gather his wits, she was gone, disappeared into the sugary beast of Sugarcube corner.
"Hello Digibrony." Twilight vocalized as she passed.
Digibrony managed an earnest smile, always happy to converse with the show's lead character. "Uhm… What brings you to Sugarcube corner today, Twilight?" He asked, finally finding his tongue.
Twilight gave Digibrony a wry smile. "Parasprites have been wandering into AJ’s orchards and eating the trees. Believe it or not, but Pinkie is the most qualified pony to deal with them."
Automatically, Digi opened his mental list of episodes before remembering that all the aired episodes had played out already with the exception of one: the season three finale. He didn't know what Equestria was waiting for to give Twilight her wings. Probably for the beginning of season four to see what she'd do with those wings.
"Celestial help us if Pinkie is our last line of defense." He spoke.
That made Twilight let out a suppressed laugh. "Pinkie is much more capable than any of us give her credit for."
"I wouldn’t doubt it." Digi stole one last glance through the window into Sugarcube Corner. “I’d better get going. See you later, Twilight.”
Pinkie Pie or Applejack? He had turned the question so many times in his head, it was a wonder it didn’t provide enough lift to get him off the ground. Nevertheless, the worn question remained unanswered, and he was forever locked in a stalemate, afraid of approaching either of the mares lest he make the wrong decision. He wanted nothing more than to just throw it in a pit and ignore it for the rest of his metaphysical life.
Of course, there were merits to both mares, but love, even between fictional characters, didn’t work well with reason. No matter how amazingly strong, smart, and beautiful Applejack was, he’d doubted he’d ever be able to shake his feelings for Pinkie. Likewise, no matter how stunningly Pinkie Pinkie was, he’d never be able to erase Digibrony’s real life counterpart’s affection for Applejack.
He reached the grocery store almost without realizing it. Nudging the door open, an electric jingle tinkled overhead. He headed straight for the soda aisle.
And that was part of the problem wasn’t it? Applejack was Human Digi’s favorite pony. It makes sense that, being a representation of Human Digi, Pony Digi would have a crush on his favorite pony, but was that really the only reason? Digibrony wasn’t exactly the same as his human counterpart, that much was clear to him. It was possible that he’d just came to the same conclusion that Human Digi did and determined that Applejack was amazing enough to warrant further, more intimate investigation.
Digi exited the grocery store, his saddlebag laden with carbonated beverages.
But with Pinkie, there were no ifs, ands, or buts. Human Digi never gave Pinkie a second thought, and he certainly didn’t lose sleep contemplating whether or not Pinkie’s mane would dissolve in the mouth. He had a crush on her, end of story, yet It was difficult to articulate just why he found Pinkie so attractive. It was that sugary taste in the back of his mouth every time he spoke to her. It was the way she asked how a pony’s day was, actually caring about the answer. It certainly was her durable smile.
So Pinkie Pie or Applejack? He was eternally caught between the two. If only he could decide which one he cared about more. For better or for worse, he’d finally put a stop to an argument whose rantings he’d sunk hours and hours into.
Finally, he reentered his home. Half way up the stairs to his room, Mortar popped her head into the stairwell.
“Where’s the bread?” Mortar asked with an annoyed tone.
“And the milk.” Pestle chimed in from somewhere behind her.
Digibrony groaned, his hoof running down his face. Quickly levitating his sodas into his room, he shut the door, tromping back down the steps. “I’ll be back.” He grumbled, brushing past his two warm-hued landlords.
“Sorry I’m late.” Digibrony hopped up onto the slightly elevated barstool, swivelling around to face the bar. Any human would’ve found the bar downright puny, being hardly taller than a regular pony table. That was understandable, however, considering there wasn’t much of a difference in height whether a pony was sitting or standing.
“You?” The purple mare beside him ascertained sarcastically. “Late? I’ve never heard such a ridiculous thing.” She punctuated that by raising her bottle to her mouth and taking a hearty swig, the keratin of her hooves indefinitely stained a darker purple than the rest of her coat due to a lifetime of crushing grapes.
Ignoring the purple mare's sarcasm, Digibrony motioned to Frosty Glass, the bartender. The bulky white stallion nodded, knowingly grabbed a bottle of beer, snapped the cap off, and slid the thin bottle down the bar past Digi's companion to meet his outstretched hoof. He tipped the bottle back, enjoying the feeling of the cool liquid rolling down his thirsty esophagus. "I've been waiting for that all day."
"Mmm... I bet you were, and I was waiting even longer."
Digibrony turned to look at her. A bleached purple coat encompassed his drinking companion, covering her like a sun faded towel while her tail and mane were unpersuadable plum mops hanging loosely off her body. Despite her slightly ragged appearance coupled with the subtle scents of alcohol and grapes continually wafting off of her, her face was soft and delicate, and her amethyst eyes flitted about intelligently, unimpaired by however many drinks she had managed in the ten minutes he had been delayed by. Her flank was simply adorned; a bunch of grapes politely flanked a petite strawberry. All this made up Berry Punch, Ponyville's resident brewer.
"We'll I have had a monotonous day carving pipes." He reasoned.
"And I had a tough day of dragging barrels around in my basement." She frowned with good nature. "Actually that was yesterday when a certain unicorn was supposed to help me with that." Digi blocked her hoof as she swatted him.
"I already told you I was sorry. I was doing business with Sugar Cone."
"Oh, business. I got'cha. Ditching me for business."
Digibrony rolled his eyes. “It’s not like you’ve never cancelled on me.”
“Yes,” She haughtily affirmed, “but I am a mare, and mares are fickle creatures. It’s in our nature to change our minds at the drop of a hat, but stallions have to be strong and dependable.”
“Call me crazy, but I doubt Rarity would agree with you on that.”
“Oh, what does she know?” She chuckled, downing her bottle.
It was at that time that Frosty Glass romped up, exiting a boisterous conversation from further down the bar. "Digibrony, my boy!" He exclaimed with a gruff voice that was made for yelling, slapping Digibrony hard on the shoulder. "Tell me, when are you going to take my daughter's hoof in marriage?!"
"Dad!" Berry Punch immediately shouted, slamming her bottle back onto the bar as a magenta blush made its way across her snout.
"I jest! I jest!" Frosty Glass guffawed. "Though I have been looking for an excuse to get out the old tux. Let me tell you, there are few sights in this world as ridiculous as old Frosty in a suit! HaHa"
Digibrony chuckled in response. "It can't be nearly as ridiculous of a sight as Berry in a wedding dress."
Berry swatted him again as Frosty unleashed a new salvo of explosive laughter. “Shut up, you tub of lard.” She irritably threw against them, though Digi was at a loss to figure out which of them it was directed towards.
"Of course," Frosty winded down, replacing Berry’s empty bottle with a fresh one, "my baby girl could only look beautiful on her wedding day, but that's hardly a topic for now, eh! Drink up!" He then moved across the bar, refilling dry glasses.
"I gotta hand it to whoever designed him." Digibrony quipped. “Too bad we’re all just characters.”
"What are you going on about?" Berry sharply asked.
“I was kidding about the dress by the way.” Digibrony immediately changed the subject, having no intention to ever burden Berry with the knowledge of her own fictitious nature. Hell, it was all he could do to focus on his predicament between Applejack and Pinkie Pie rather than on the crushing, niggling thought that constantly whispered in his ear that every single pony he met and ever would meet for the rest of his life was fake; a fictitious character often times unlucky enough to appear in the background of a television series. As always, he covered that up with a brave smile, pushing it into the back of his head where it belonged.
She elbowed his ribs lightly. “You think I haven’t been friends with you long enough to know when you’re teasing?”
Digibrony briefly felt like every movement he made was like pushing through molasses. It passed too soon and too late all at once, leaving a lingering feeling of ice on his neck. “To the princesses?” Digibrony raised his bottle in her direction, trying to shake off the cobwebs.
Berry clinked her renewed bottle against his. “To the princesses.”
