A Lick of Good Sense

by Princess Snufflebuns

Rating: mature
Tags: Comedy, Random, Adventure, Human, Dark, Alternate Universe
Length: 18540

A man finds himself in a strange yet familiar world, and must survive and beat the odds.

CGotG universe.
I was once a working man of 24, getting by with the skin of my teeth. It’s a dog-eat-dog world, after all. Well, I really learned the definition of that particular phrase when I was dropped into Equestria without a choice, or even knowledge of what the hell was going on, and an unfamiliar body to do it all in.

Now, I’m just another plaything of the gods, a pawn going up against an army of queens. Sometimes, I think that even those queens are pawns in disguise. Who’s pulling their strings? Mine? Few know, and less tell.

I’ve only got one mission: survive at all costs.

And cookies. Cookies are good too.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-11-27 04:27:10 UTC

Chapter the First: Arriving in a Blood-Soaked Candyland

               I was in a park – Golden Gate park, to be specific – in my hometown of San Francisco. The chilly wind bit through my jacket, and I shivered. Through the fog, trees loomed around, and a bus stop stood in front of me. Walking around to the seats, I saw a man sitting there, reading a newspaper. I sat in the corner away from him, averting my gaze and keeping silent. It took me a moment to notice he had stopped reading the paper, and was staring intently at me. Shifting uncomfortably, I looked back.

                   “Can I help you?” I said, the cold air frosting my breath as it left my mouth. I wasn’t really the most social with strangers, and I was getting quite uncomfortable.

                   “Yes, it seems you can. Are you any good at riddles? I have a rather interesting one here. It goes, ‘what lays between everything, lies within nothing, and something that you can’t live in?” He grinned wildly. “Oh, that’s right. Space!”

                   His hand shot out, and, grabbing me by the collar, stood. I screamed as I was tossed directly upwards at blinding speeds, my eyes forced shut. I felt the g-forces tear me apart, and I began to slow. I came to a halt, and opened my eyes. I looked down, seeing nothing at first through my blurry vision. As things focused, I saw various body parts – my own, I realized – floating around me. The blue and green orb of earth hung far away, its beauty to behold. It was then that I died.

oOo

                   I sat up with a start, a cold sweat on my brow, my eyes darting around the room. I was lying on my sofa, my little wooden coffee table to my left.

                   “Not again… Bloody hell, this is starting to piss me off.” I grumbled.

                   I had been having dreams constantly – every time I slept, in fact – all with the same man. I could never discern any defining features about him, but somehow, I knew it was the same man each time, at least after I woke up. I would run into him, he would make a crappy joke, and then kill me. The whole deal had cut my sleeping schedule short, and it was really wearing on me.

                   The rest of the day had been normal; I had gotten up, eaten breakfast, and gone to work. After that, I came home and relaxed on the couch, and at some point I had fallen asleep. I had been napping more frequently with my lack of sleep, and it didn’t seem to help at all; the extra sleep might have actually worsened my condition.

                   My stomach growled softly, and I decided to grab something to eat. Swinging my legs onto the floor, I stood up. Walking past the small, boxy TV on its stand, I crossed into the next room. My kitchen was a small deal, a stove and countertops crammed on one side, a fridge next to them, and a little more counter space on the right. In the back, a little metal table and two matching chairs sat. a bowl of apples and bananas sat next on the table. The cheap microwave, stained with use, sat just behind, on the counter. Walking to the fridge, I retrieved some Chinese takeout left over from the last night, bottles clinking as I opened the door. I put the chow mein in the microwave, and, with a few beeps, began “cooking” my gourmet meal.

                   I had just sat down, waiting for my food to be done, when I heard a knock at the door. Scrambling up, I hurried over, back through the living room. I unlocked the deadbolt, and opened the small, wooden door.

                   “How may I help yo…” I stopped mid-sentence, frozen in shock.

                   Before me stood the same man from my dreams, sporting a black suit, red tie, and white collared shirt. His face was young, cleanly shaven.  His short cropped black hair was well maintained, and some would say he was handsome. Currently, I was following another line of thought.

OhShitOhShitOhShitOhShitOhShit

Paralyzed, it stood there, mouth agape.

                   “Hello. I do believe we haven’t been properly introduced. You may call me Oldammara, and we both already know your name, so that’s about it for introductions. I’ll be sending you on your way right away, so do be a good boy and get ready. I would oh so hate for you to be unprepared for any in-flight turbulence.  Any and all loose ends tied to your leaving this world have already been fixed, and you have been replaced in every aspect. You have nothing to stay for, I assure you.  Now, I bid you farewell, good sir, and have a bloody fantastic journey!” I barely listened to anything he said. “Oh, by the way, that whole ‘bloody” part. I believe that should be taken just as much literally as figuratively.”

                   “Wha-“ I had just started to form words when a large amount of force launched me straight forward, stumbling towards him. As I touched him, I seemed to pass through his body, but not further out of my door; I tumbled into a pool of seemingly never-ending color, vibrant hues whirling around me, wrapping me in their gentle warmth. It seemed, rather than me falling down, that the world was rushing up and past me.

                   I screamed, and felt strands of the chromatic ethereality invade my lungs. I tingling feeling shot through my body, and I spasms wracked my body as it shook uncontrollably. The Technicolor streams floated into my veins next, and into my heart, then up into my eyes. I was blinded completely, vibrant hues present even when I closed my eyes. At this point, I stopped screaming.

oOo

                   At this point I felt… Relaxed. I was one with this strange, colorful void. I did not know how long I hung there, suspended in vibrant nothingness. Suddenly, I felt a small tug on my leg. I let the sudden flow take me down, spiraling as I felt a strange sense of vertigo. A cold feeling passed over my body, and I felt something twist and contort inside of me. It wasn’t painful, only unpleasant, but it still invoked some fear from me.

                   My toes touched something and passed right through it; it felt as if I had begun to fall through a hanging sheet of water only half an inch thick. The embrace of the tendrils left me as the rest of my body fell through the sheet, and I could finally see. I felt my feet touch the ground, and I stumbled, barely catching myself. The world spun in a whirl of greens and browns, and, as my vision corrected itself, I saw that I was on a narrow dirt path, trees and grass around me, small yellow flowers scattered alongside the trail. It was picturesque to say the least, and the sky above looked more… well, blue than any blue I had ever seen before. Gazing around, I saw something black on the very bottom center of my vision, only really visible when I looked straight down. I reached up with me hand, and felt for what was there, only to freeze as a set of clawed fingers appeared just in front my face. They were black, with padding on the front and fur on the back. The claws looked feline in nature, like an oversized cat’s claw.

                   It took me a moment to realize just what the han… err, paw was.

Why the ACTUAL fuck do I have paws?I My eyes grew wide.

                   Disregarding my new set of mitts, I felt for what was in place of my nose.

And a bloody cat’s nose? Sweet baby Jesus, did someone dress me in a bloody FURSUIT?

                   Looking down, I noticed I was wearing what seemed to be a set of leather armor, with a leather tunic coming down over my legs. I was also wearing a black cloak, and I felt the hood behind my head. At my hips, twin scabbards housed equally similar swords, about three and a half feet in length each. In the places my garb left exposed, I saw dark black fur instead of skin. My left arm, still hanging at my side, caught my interest; I saw that my hand seemed to have reversed itself. The palm of the paw faced outward instead of inward, and, curling my fingers, it looked as if I had grafted someone’s right hand onto my head, and, looking at my other hand, I saw the inverse.

                   My legs, also covered with fur, were also no longer normal. They went forward from the hip, bent at the normal spot for a knee, but then bent forwards once again, terminating in a pair of feline paws. Taking a tentative step forward, I saw my new leg bend in what seemed an awkward fashion, but felt as natural as the way I had been walking my whole life.

                   “Wat.” I muttered.

Okay, this can be one of three things:

1.          A dream

2.          A coma induced hallucination

3.          Real life

I quickly pinched myself.

Not a dream. I winced.

“So, I’m in a coma or this is actually happening. Might as well treat it as real for now. That whole brain-in-a-jar theory says I should do some shit like that. If I fuck up, and this bloody mess is real, I’m gonna have a bad time.” I said to myself.

oOo

                   I set off down the path, and noticed the sun still high in the sky. I figured, by its position that it was about midday. My paws made no noise on the hard-packed dirt, and I was moving much faster that I normally was able to. My mind wandered as I kept my pace.

So, what exactly am I, to be specific? Humanoid, black furred feline. Reversed hands. Wait, that rings a bell. Ah, what the bloody hell was it?

                   I wracked my mind for the information, the name on the tip of my tongue.

That’s it! Rakshaker, errr…. Rakshasa! Naztharune Rakshasa! That’s what Dave’s rogue was! They’re like evil cat people, right? And… what else? Oh, Yeah! They can read minds I think! And shape shift, I think. This is so cool!

                   I internally squeed.

oOo

                   I walked onward, and, seeing the beginnings of a proper road along with the sound of something moving, quickened my steps. Coming out onto a stone brick road, I saw a cart being pulled by two creatures that I instantly realized were ponies. Not carnival ponies, honest to god ponies like those in the show My Little Pony: Friendship is magic. Like, the Technicolor unicorn/pegasi type of pony.

                   The two pulling the cart were earth ponies, one tan, one green. They were both stallions.

                   “Well, heya there! Lovely day it’s turning out to be, eh?” I called out, smiling and waving at them.

                   “We don’t got nuthin’ but spuds ‘n’ lettuce alright? We don’t want no trouble.” The tan one responded eyeing me warily.

Does he think I wanted to rob him?

                   “Hey, I’m not the kind of guy to just go around and rob people outta house ‘n’ home, so you haven’t got anything to fear. Just wanted to know where the nearest town is, I’m kind of low on supplies.” I reasoned.

                   Still eyeing me, albeit less intensely, he nodded towards the direction he was going. “Trottingham’s up yonder, an’ that’s where we’re goin’. If’n y’all don’t make no trouble, yah can ride in the back. It ain’t too far. Word a’ wornin’, though; ponyfolk up there don’t take too kindly to anythin’ that’s not another pony, understand? Be glad you found us, an’ not one of them.” He paused, looking at the blades at my waist.. “They ‘specially don’t like it when they’re armed.”

                   “Thanks a million for the offer, I’ll definitely take ya up on that. I think I’ll be fine otherwise, don’t fret. Shouldn’t get too much trouble.” I replied.

                   Thinking intensely, I formed the image of a lanky grey Pegasus with a black mane with two crossed swords as a cutie mark.

This had better work.

                   As I kept the form in my mind, I felt the same shifting feeling that I had felt just before I was deposited in the clearing.  I felt myself shorten, and my eyes lowered from their vantage point as my body shifted to the form of a pony.

                   I grinned at the two ponies wide eyed expressions.

                   “Let’s roll.”

Chapter the Second: Of Griffons and Grips on Reality

               Somehow, my gear managed to shrink and reshape itself so that it still fit, to which my only explanation was that it was magic.

I’ve got a feeling that’s gonna be my excuse for just about all the shit that’s gonna happen, to be honest.

                   We had made good progress along the road, an, although the clip-clopping of their hooves were annoying, I was having a great time. We made good conversation, talking late into the day, and after stopping to sleep, we had struck up our banter once again. I had spun a tale of how I was an outcast of my people, shunned for having higher moral standards than was normal for them. My backstory still needed some work and rehearsing, but it was a decent and pretty believable alibi. Running around saying you’re an alien monkey with a giant-ass bald spot wasn’t gonna get me all that far. I had told them to call me Prince, my gamertag. It was something I would respond to, and sounded good to me.

                   That night, I had cried a lot. My situation was clear; I was not in a coma, and I was stuck here for god knows how long. I had once again resorted to the “brain in a jar” mentality, and stopped panicking.

                   Well, at least a little less than before. The ponies had played a good role in distracting me, as well as learning some stuff about my body. I had shifted between several forms, that of a diamond dog, various types of ponies (I even mimicked Celestia!), and I had also learned how to change other physical aspects instead of changing the entire shape.

                   Let me tell you, rule 63ing yourself is VERY weird. It was especially weirder when I discovered that all my “parts” worked when I had to take a trip behind a tree. Needless to say, there is quite the learning curve for the act of urinating as a woman.

                   Also, take note: being buxom impairs movement.

                   Apparently, I knew how to use the swords I came in with, as if I had trained with them for all my life. The blades were a matte black, and were completely flat, apart from the silver edges.

                   My first thought when I learned of my new skills: OP much?

                   In fact I found it surprising that I could shape shift that easy from the beginning, seeing as I had never even heard of anyone doing it in real life before. I quickly found that my telepathic abilities came just as easily, and that, unlike in D&D, I could send them my OWN thoughts as well as read theirs.

                   In testing these new skills, I learned just how high a Pegasus could jump without wings. I’m pretty sure Equestria could give any Olympic gold medalist a run for their money with even the weakest of pegasi.

Currently, we were arguing about the best uses of potatoes.

“NO, no, no! Mashed potatoes don’t have a bloody THING on French fries!” I cried.

“Well, I reckon even the best a’ yer little franch fries er whatever ya call ‘em would stand up to a good ole’ baked potater!” Was the response from the tan one, whose name turned out to be Golden Plow. I smirked at him.

“Are you even serious? Baked potatoes can’t even TOUCH French fries.” I said snidely.

“Would both of ya kindly SHUT THE BUCK UP?!?!?” the other pony, named Green Hoof, screamed, turning his fiery glare at us. “Just a MOMENT of peace would be just won’erful.”

Golden and I continued to glare at each other, but were silent.

“’Sides, we’re ‘ere.” Spoke Green.

I turned my head to see Trottingham up ahead. Its skyline was no San Francisco, but, in comparison to Ponyville, it towered over everything. I grinned, shifting back into the tall Pegasus I had thought up before.

It was going to be one hell of a day.

oOo

                   “Whaddya mean I ain’t allowed to ‘ave a weapon. That’s me battleaxe, ya twit! I ain’t leavin ‘er behind!” A voice called out from in front of us, as we waited at the gate.

                   I hopped off the cart, said my farewells to Green and Golden, and headed towards the voice.

                   “Because ah’m a bloody Griffon, eh? Ye bloody racist git! Ah’m passin’ through this gate, an ah’m not payin’ nuthin’, an’ you ain’t getting mah blade neither!” I identified the accent to be somewhat Scottish, albeit the Equestrian equivalent.

                   I walked up next to the Griffon in question, right in front of the open gate. Two guards, scowls on their faces, barred passage through the doors. The half-lion, half-bird creature hulked over the two, and would probably match me in height. His build was muscular, yet lithe, and his plumage was highlighted in places with a crimson red. His face had a few nasty looking scars on it, one crossing over one of his eyes in the classic badass style. A absolutely massive double headed axe was slung over his back, along with his pack and light armor, the links of the mail shining in the sun. The blades of the monstrosity were silver, melding with a red material that covered each edge, the change starting about an inch away from the very sharp edge. Runes marked the red in an intricate pattern, all of them worked out of gold. The handle was a solid looking wood, and the grip was banded leather. The “hilt” was a ring of metal, small spikes facing outwards on all sides. The bottom was capped with another piece, similar to the “hilt,” but with a five or so inch long spike of the same red material on the blades jutting directly down.

                   Judging by the demeanor and looks of the wielder, and the visible patches of wear on the well-maintained weapon, it was used often.

                   The guards and warrior kept arguing, their squabbling growing more intense. Thinking quickly, I added a few scars along my face, and three on my chest and left side. I tried my best to make me look young, yet grizzled. I walked forward over to the three of them, and put on a smirk.

                   “Play along. I’m going to get through. Act like you’ve known me forever.” I telepathically told the griffon.

“What the… Who the bloody ‘ell you think yer doin’ in mah head?” He thought.

“Shut up.” I snapped.

                   “Heya boys! How ya doin’?” I asked, doing my best to look chipper.

                   “What is your business her, citizen?” One of the guards said.

                   “Well… Oh, hey, old timer! Remember your ole’ partner Prince, eh?” I turned to the griffon.

Don’t mess this up don’t mess this up don’t mess…

                   “How could I ferget ‘cha lad, yer ole’ uncle Skimmer ain’t that outta it yet, ya wee bastard!” He cajoled, throwing up a smile.

                   “You having any trouble with him, officers? He’ll be with me, and I’ll be damned if he does anything stupid unless I’m doing it too!” I laughed.

                   “Non-ponies aren’t permitted to carry weapons in the city, and there is a toll on their entrance. He has refused to relinquish his weapon, and won’t pay.” The other guard spoke. “He stays here until he complies.”

                   “Hey, I know the big puffball looks scary” I said, winking and elbowing Skimmer. “But Skimmer and I used to be monster huntin’ buddies way back when, right after I retired from the guard. If he tries to hurt anypony, he’ll have to deal with me. Trust me, he’ll be in some bloody good hooves, if I do say so myself.” I flashed a grin.

                   “If you you escort him the entire time he is with his weapon, he may keep it. If he uses it, he will be arrested and tossed in the nearest brig.” One guard said. “That does not cover the fine.”

                   “How much?” I asked.

                   “20 bits.” Was the reply.

                   I gave them the required amount from a pouch that I had discovered on my belt. They stepped back, and we walked through, him glaring, me trotting along cheerfully. We had made it pretty far into the city before he pulled me into an alley by the neck. Slamming me against the wall, he brought his axe to my neck. I gulped, looking down at the extremely sharp object aimed for my windpipe.

                   “Now, I do believe we can work this out in a way that doesn’t involve an-” I was cut off.

                   “Ah’ve got two bloody questions for yah, mate: How’d yah do it, an’ why’d yah help me get in this ‘ell’ole?” He snarled through his beak.

                   “I’m not quite sure about what you mean about the first question, but I gave you a hoof ‘cause I’m not really one for racism. So, if you would kindly let me down, we cou-“ I was cut off once again.

                   “Quit messin’ if ya know what’s bloody good for ya! How did’ja talk to me in mah ‘ead? Speak up, eh?” He hissed.

                   “Well, I’m not exactly a pony, you know. I could explain a little better if I didn’t have an AXE AT MY NECK!” I spoke, hissing the last part out. He dropped me after moving the blade back, and I brethed in deeply.

I guess I’ll have to do this then. Ah, fuck it all.

                   I willed my body to shift, and focused on my basic feline form. I heard him whistle loudly as the transformation completed. I was looking down at him now, and him up at me, interest in his eyes.

                   “Just what the bloody ‘ell are ya?” He whispered.

                   “Just your friendly neighborhood spiderman.”

Chapter the Third: Canine Catastrophes and Pearl Predicaments

               “Just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman.”

                   Skimmer’s eyes sharpened, and his stance tightened. He lifted his blade.

                   “It’s been a while since ah’ve seen hair ‘r hide of another human. It’s a shame, yah might’ve made ah good companion.” He swung his blade at my head.

                   Yelping, I ducked, almost sure he had given me an impromptu haircut.

                   “What the hell-“ I yelled.

 The weapon completed its arc, and came back for more. Throwing myself towards the street, I barely dodged his second strike. Shifting back to my previous equine form, I bolted for the open road. I heard him call out in rage as my hooves clattered against the stone, pushing me further away from him, dilapidated posters and trash mere blurs next to me.

                   “You’d be’er run, boy! T’ain’t nothin going ta come in between me and that wish!”

What the ACTUAL BLOODY FUCK just happened?

                   I heard a flap of wings, and a quick look behind me confirmed that he was now in aerial pursuit. I pressed harder. My hooves thundered against the stones, but I knew he was gaining. Ponies screamed and jumped out of the way, and I rushed past banners and stalls, now in a small market. A box of oranges tipped over, and I jumped over the obstacle. With his flight, he didn’t have to dodge around everypony, giving him further advantage. I saw a few guards on the far side, and began to move towards them. The change in course gave the Scottish hybrid more lead, and I gritted my teeth in pain and groaned as his talons raked my flank. I saw the guards race forward, spears at the ready. Glancing back, I saw Skimmer fall back slightly as he drew his axe, giving me a wild idea.

                   I planted my forelegs firmly on the ground in front of me, coming to a jolting stop. Placing my weight forward, I raised my hindquarters and pulled my legs back, cocking them in position. As my pursuer neared, a flash of recognition shot through his eyes, and he tried to slow down. It was too late.

                   My hind legs shot out in a powerful buck, my entire bodyweight moving into the strike. My hooves connected solidly with Skimmer’s feathered chest, his momentum playing against him as I heard his ribcage crack and snap in several places. The impact sent a jolt of pain along my hind legs, but I escaped without any damage to myself. I slid forward, my hooves loosing purchase for a moment on the rough ground.

                   He flew backwards a few feet, his weapon spinning off and clattering to the side. An audible *thud* could be heard as he touched down, all six limbs sprawled haphazardly. Blood sprayed from his open beak. I panted heavily, my flanks stinging as blood seeped down them, obscuring my false cutie mark. I turned my head away from him for a moment as I heard hoofsteps coming from behind me. The guards I had seen earlier now stood just behind me armed with spears. They wore the same gear as the ones at the gate.

                   “You alright? What was his problem?!” One of the officers called to me. I stared blankly at him and shook my head.

                    “No idea.” I wheezed, still out of breath.

                   “Well, I know one thing; the featherhead’s about to get his ass handed to him by the warden. He might even hang. Serves him right for attacking a pony!” A second one called out.

                   “The hospital’s just up that way.” The first guard nodded his head to the right. “Head on up, and tell ‘em Right Hoof sent you. They’ll patch you up.”

                   “Thanks a l-“ I was cut off by a gruff voice.

                   “Medico!” Came the wheeze, and my head snapped around. Skimmer coughed up some more blood, and rose to his claws. I winced and recoiled as I heard a squelch of flesh, and I realized that it was his ribs moving back into place.

                   “So, ya think you can put the likes o’ me down with just the one kick, eh? Now yah’ve just gotten me angry!” He declared, reaching for his weapon.

                   I stared in disbelief.

Magic? How can a GRIFFON do magic?

                   Looking back at my flanks, I spoke in a firm tone.

                   “Medico.”

                   I felt the cuts seal themselves, and the pain ended almost immediately. I grinned.

I guess two can play at that game.

                   Looking back to Skimmer, I saw he had retrieved his axe. Thinking quickly I drew my own swords from their sheathes. My wings seemed to grasp them almost like hands, and it felt natural.

                   My opponent charged, using his wings to propel himself. I saw flashes of light glint off of the guards’ spears as they pointed at the mad griffon. My mind slipped away as the alien instincts washed over me, and I lurched forward. As Skimmer swung his blade, I redirected it with one of my own, and brought the other in a wide and powerful arc. The haft of his massive battleaxe was cut clean through the sharp metal of my sword, and I saw his eyes go wide.

                   “That’s bloody Zebrican enchanted wood! Yer gonna PAY fer that!” He screamed, narrowing his gaze

                   He body slammed me, and my weapons went flying, clattering onto the stone, out of reach. I fell flat on my back, his talons pinning my forelegs down. He lifted one up, and cocked it back, preparing for the final blow.

                   A blur flew towards his chest, and a sickening *thunk* was heard as six inches of cold steel and hardened wood penetrated his ribcage. Once again, the griffon’s eyes grew wide, and he looked at his new wound in surprise. The section of his wound around the haft of the spear was stained red with his blood. His beak opened in an attempt to for words, but no sound came out. Air was let out of my lungs as he crashed onto my chest, his now-limp body cascading around me.

                   Grunting in exertion, I rolled him off of me, and scrambled to my hooves. I froze as I saw what was on the ground in front of me.

                   It took me a moment to realize that I had almost died. And, on top of that, living, breathing, thinking person had a hunk of metal and wood shoved into his chest cavity. With me six inches away.

                   I felt queasy and lightheaded, and I began to sway from side to side. I stumbled, barely regaining my footing. I watched the blood run down the once pristine white front of Skimmer, and onto the ground, a small puddle of the crimson liquid forming.

Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod

                   I threw up what little was in my stomach.

In my moment of shock, I hadn’t notice the pony next to me. A light purple wing stretched over my back, and brushed against my own. I looked up, tears in my eyes. The guard who hadn’t spoken to me earlier looked at me, their face expressing concern.

                   “You okay, bud? You don’t look too good.” The voice was definitely a mare’s, and a quick look at her confirmed the thought.

                   “N-not really.” I whispered. “I just got a little too intimate with a dead person for my liking.”

                   “It doesn’t really get easier, you know. You just get better at hiding it.” She spoke, still holding a comforting wing over me. “Anyways, you’re obviously not from around here. Tell you what; if you need a place to crash you can stay at my place. My roommate won’t mind, and you can sleep on the couch.”

                   I was astounded on the generosity of the pony. Was she really just going to let me stay at her place, just like that? Without knowing who I am?

I think I’ve found a friend here. Or, she’s doing this for herself. I don’t think so, though. Does she seem like the type? Not really.

                   I begrudgingly nodded my head, and, wiping my muzzle clean with a foreleg, spoke softly. “Thanks.”

                   “No problem. Well, let’s get going. The complex is on the other side of town.” She replied. I retrieved my gear, and, turning to look at Skimmer one last time, began following her.

oOo

                   We had arrived about fifteen minutes ago at a large apartment complex, and entered her room on the third floor. It wasn’t spacious, but was still bigger than my tiny flat. In the small kitchen, which also served as a dining room, we were eating some sandwiches and hayfries we had picked up on the way.

                   Pony food was actually pretty decent; hayfries were excellent, although far inferior the real thing. Seriously, all I’m saying is that French fries are an ART.

                   “So, seeing as we haven’t really introduced ourselves, I’ll start. Hi, my name’s Ridge Shifter. Nice to meet you.” She put down her meal, and extended a hoof.

                   I responded in kind, and shook her hoof. “Prince, nice to bloody meet you.”

                   We paused in silence for about a minute.

                   “Prince?” She asked.

                   “Yeah?” I said.

                   “You alright?” Came the most frequently asked question of the day.

                   “Yes, I think I am now. I- I just want to thank you for helping me out. It means a lot.” I responded, avoiding eye contact.

                   “Well, good. Stuff like today doesn’t happen to too many ponies, so I understand what you’re going through. Is the food good?” She gestured to my almost empty plate with a free hoof.

                   “Yeah, ‘s really good. I mostly make my own food, but sometimes me and my mates ’ll go out for drinks and a bite. I like the hayfries.” I said, absently eating more of the dish.

                   “Yeah, I like that place. Their soup is also pretty good, you sh-“ her voice was cut off by a loud knock on the door. “Hold on a moment, Prince. Let me get that real quick.”

                   Trotting around the corner and out of sight, I heard the deadbolt slide and unlock, and the creaking of the door as it opened. “Hello? Oh, it’s you. I thought I told you to get lost.”

                   I heard the door moving back, but the then I heard something obstruct its path.

                   “Aww, Shifty, doncha wanna have fun with me? Well, you don’t have to answer that. I already know the answer. I’ll give you what you want, you little slut.”

                   I heard a scuffle, and the door slammed. The struggle went on, and I heard grunts from both Ridge and the unknown assailant. I stood still paralyzed.

                   “Get your hooves off of me!” I heard her yell.

                   I hid behind the wall as I saw the two start to come into view. My quick glance showed a large, red Pegasus stallion restraining Ridge, who was struggling against the bigger pony’s might to no avail. I peeked around the corner.

                   A hoof smacked across his face, and his head snapped to the side. Looking back at the helpless mare, he growled. “You’re going to pay for that. It’s best if you stop struggling, little birdy. I’m going to make you sing either way.

                   Now, to clarify; when Skimmer attacked me, I was in full-on flight mode, and was acting on instinct. I was scared, which clouded my thought processes. Now, watching this stallion trying to take advantage of my newfound friend, I wasn’t scared. Not one bit.

                   I was furious.

                   My gaze lifted with the rest of my body, my legs growing longer, my chest wider, my coat darkening. I turned my eyes a crimson red with a tiny pinprick of a pupil. My teeth elongated and tapered into fangs, and I bared them. The feathers on my wings receded, being replaced by larger versions of the ones the night guards possess.  I let out a deep growl, wind blowing between my canines. I flared out my membranous wings, and stepped through the doorway, and to the struggling ponies.

                   “You better bloody let her go RIGHT NOW, or I will rip your throat from neck and your heart from your chest!” I hollered.

                   “Oh, wouldja looky here, looks like the skank found a replacement for-“ He turned, stopped mid-sentence when he saw my figure. I towered over him, taller even than Celestia.

                   I hit him with a hooked forehoof strike to the left side of his face, knocking him off of Ridge. Snarling, I pounced on him, pinning him much as Skimmer had. I hissed through my maw of jagged teeth, drool dribbling from my chin. The look of sheer terror on his face gave me a sickening amount of pleasure, and, as I stood over him, I heard him release the contents of his bladder.

                   Rearing up, I sent both of my front hooves into his head, knocking him out like a like a light, and most likely providing with a grade-A concussion. I panted, stepped off of his still body, and shifted back to my previous guise. Spinning on my heels, I addressed Ridge.

                   “Did he hurt you?” I say, anger in my eyes. Looking back at me, Ridge just shook her head, her jaw almost hitting the floor. Noticing her wide-eyed stare, I asked her, “You okay?”

                   “WHAT THE BUCK WAS THAT… THAT THING!” She screamed.

                   “Me.” I said, wincing at the shriek. “Paying you back.”

                   “What the buck???” She yelled, slightly lowering the volume.

                   “Got that already.” I deadpanned.

                   “You turned into that thing!” she yelled, raising her voice a little.

                   “Yes, I did.” I replied.

                   “Are you a bucking Changeling? What the buck? How can you do that?” She screamed louder.

                   “No I’m not. Please stop yelling in my ears, you’re giving me a bloody headache!” I began to grow angry.

                   “Get the buck out of my house! Just… Leave! I don’t want to see you again, you bucking freak!” The last comment stopped me in my tracks. I froze up.

                   “Well… Bye, I guess. See you around, or not, I guess.”  I lowered my head, hiding my eyes with my mane, and walked out the door.

                   “And stay out!” I heard the door slam behind me.

                   I sprinted down the hall, tears streaking my cheeks with lines of wetness. I clattered down the stairs, almost tripping. Bursting onto the street, I looked around. It was dark now, and nopony was outside. I looked to my right, and saw a back alley. It was a small, dark deal, and didn’t look particularly inviting. Disregarding that, I cantered into it. A few empty boxes were the only decoration in the bleak alleyway, and there wasn’t even a rat in sight. Dropping down behind one of the larger boxes towards the end of the path, I sobbed heavily.

God fucking bloody damn it shit prick cunt FUCK! I can’t go fucking home, I’m never going to see my girlfriend or family again, I have no friends here, no home, a few bits to my name, and I can’t go five minutes without getting into a fight today! Why the fuck did this have to fucking happen to me? WHY?

                   My chest heaved as my cries shook my whole body, pressing me into the cold ground. That was how I went to sleep: depressed, homeless, and in a puddle of tears.

oOo

                   Some people tell you how their bead head is awful. Let me tell you this:

                   Bedhead ain’t shit compared to alley-mane.

                   Staring in a pool of water next to a drain, I saw that I looked horrible. My hair was all askew, my eyes were bloodshot, I had bags under my eyes, and my cheeks were stained with tears.

                   A quick transformation later, and I was as back to normal as an orderly-looking male Pegasus would be for me. Looking into the pool, I realized I had never tried to fly; I guess it didn’t cross my mind.

If I became a unicorn, could I use magic?

                   I felt my wings on my back, and all the joints and muscles. Extending them, I brought both wings out and up. I angled them slightly, and, concentrating on synchronizing them, I began to flap them. Knowing how a bird flies, I used a circular motion, and folded my wings slightly as I pulled them up. The movement didn’t feel unnatural; in fact, it felt very not unnatural in almost every way.

                   I was focusing so much that I almost didn’t realize I was hovering five feet above the ground, and rising slowly. The sudden sense of vertigo that came upon me when I looked down almost sent me tumbling groundwards, but caught myself. Pumping my wings harder, I shot up higher. Holding my vertical position, I started to adjust my wings’ movements, and started to test out moving back and forth, side to side, and diagonally. The motions seemed natural, almost familiar, exactly like when I used my swords without any prior knowledge of how to handle a blade. Did it have something to do with how I got here? Definitely. Did I know exactly why? Not at all.

                   Clumsily flying up and landing on a roof, I concentrated. The still-strange sensation of shifting flowed through me as I retracted my wings into my body, and felt and saw a horn protrude from my head. Shutting my eyes and concentrating, I tried to feel something – anything – in my horn. It felt like any other body part. I tried the cliché approach of imagining a flame, and then a source of light, and just plain focusing on my horn.

                   Nothing worked.

Well, that sucks. The only magic I know now is that one word. I don’t even SPEAK Latin, so there’s not much I can do with that. Although, I’m excited for flying. The next order of business would be… Food & shelter. I don’t want to sleep like last night again, if it can be avoided. This city doesn’t really seem too good of an option now, seeing as that asshole probably told them to be on the lookout for me. Speaking of which, I should probably get a new disguise. I can’t go as Prince anymore – too memorable. How about… Cloud Runner, a Pegasus from Las Pegasus, trying to get away from the bad living conditions and the death of my parents. I’ve been away from home for two years, and work as… Hmm, I’ll think of that later.

                   Shifting my form to a sky blue pegasus with a lighter blue mane with a white streak running through it, a pair of wings as a cutie mark, I flew down to the road. I started trotting along. I needed a map.

oOo

After locating a map of Equestria in a small store on the corner of a street near the apartments, I pondered my next destination.

Canterlot’s too expensive and far away, Wethoof is in the middle of bloody nowhere, my alibi clashes with Las Pegasus, Ponyville is probably were all the other humans are flocking to – probably to find and drool over Fluttershy – Manehatten seems viable, New Yoke as well, Braeburn annoys the shit out of me, and finally… Nahh, let’s just go with Manehatten.

                   I replaced the map, and walked out of the shop. I had located the train station before, but there didn’t seem to be any tickets cheap enough for me to buy, so I would have to hoof it – which was why Canterlot was too far – all the way to my destination. I had also bought a few canteens of water, some bread and cheese, and a pair of old, worn saddlebags to carry it all. I was practically out of bits, so it would have to last.

                   I arrived at the gates and exited on the road towards Manehatten, hoping to hitch a ride on another cart. Unfortunately, the road didn’t seem that busy. Setting on down the road, the sun was high in the sky. I kept an even pace, eventually stopping for a small meal of a slice of bread and a small piece of cheese. When the sun began to set, Trottingham was far behind me.

                   The long walk had given me ample time to think and experiment with different things – moving whilst changing shapes, I quickly learned, was much more difficult. It strained the concentration much more, and it forced me to almost stop when I tried it. I came to the conclusion that It would probably be something that I should practice – in this strange version of Equestria, it wasn’t all fun and games.

                   I moved off to the side of the road, preparing for a cold night’s sleep. That was when I heard something behind me, and smelled something that sent me off to dreamland.

oOo

The first thing I noticed was the smell. It wasn’t a pleasant one; I can inform you of that. It was the smell of decay and sweat, rank and sour. It filled my nostrils, and, wrinkling my nose, I began to open my eyes. In front of me was a chain, and looking down, it was attacked to a collar around my neck, and in turn to shackles around my hooves. Gazing around, I found myself connected to a group of ponies, griffons, and diamond dogs.

“I say get up, Pony!” I heard, the voice coming from the dog in front of me, who proceeded to kick me in my stomach. “Pony get up or pony dies!”

I scrambled to my hooves, and looked around with wide eyes. I stood in a cavern filled with dogs, unchained and not, and the group I was roped with.

Glaring at me fiercely, the dog walked away, towards a raised wooden platform, were several dogs stood. In the center, one stood out from the rest, both figuratively and literally. The massive dog stood at least 6’7” and had more muscle than should be healthy, and wore little in the way of clothing or armor. On his back, a massive warhammer hung on his back, the polished head gleaming in the gemlight. On his head and shoulders, colorful beads and strings hung from skulls. The bones themselves were clearly identifiable:

They were that of a dragon.

What the bloody hell? How did I get… Oh… Yeah… Pausing for a moment, I assessed the situation. I need to be more of a face in the crowd. If I’m getting out of this alive, I need to look as unchallenging as possible to the wardens so they don’t take anything I do as defiance. So…

I shifted my form so that I was a mare instead of a stallion.

Better. But, this kind of cutie mark will draw attention – I don’t want it to look like I’m a fast flier. I’m a bloody good cook, so I’ll have a mark like that… How about… A chef’s knife crossed against a spoon.

The tall dog walked forward as I changed the last detail on my improved body, surveying the crowd. He opened his maw, revealing gleaming white fangs, and spoke.

“These are the rules of Crystal Rim; Slaves follow orders, slaves do not speak unless spoken to, slaves do not attempt escape, and slaves will only eat if they work. I, Grimjaw, am your master. You will bow before me.” His boomed, and his voice echoed across the chamber.

I saw other captives looking around hesitantly, not sure whether or not to follow the order.

He’s got me us the neck here. Best do as he bloody says.

I bowed deeply, head almost touching the ground. Opening my eyes a crack, I saw that not a single one of my fellow slaves had done the same. They all still stood, some looking defiant, some looking at me with angry glares.

“You! You there!” I heard Grimjaw call out. I looked up to see him pointing at me. “Come up here. Guards, release him.”

Two ugly-looking dogs approached me, and unhooked me from the others, but left on most of my restraints. The dogs led me up the steps to the stage, and stood me before the Alpha. I bowed once again, even deeper this time.

“Rise, pony. Tell me, what is your name?” The monstrous hound spoke.

“Cloud Runner, Master.” I said, keeping my tone even and respectful, as I rose to look at him. I refrained from eye contact, as not to offend the slave driver who held my life in his hands.

“So, ‘Cloud Runner,’ look into my eyes, and tell me this; why did you bow?” He queried.

He’s trying to make an example of me. Hopefully, it doesn’t end with me in a bloody mess.

Looking into his eyes, I said firmly, “Because you ordered me to, Master.”

Looking out at the other slaves, he turned from me. Surveying them for a moment, he let out a rumbling laugh. It seemed a mad cackle, sinister instead of jovial.

“’Because you ordered me to!’” He addressed the crowd, still laughing. He stopped a moment later. “Cloud Runner here is going to go places around here. You follow the rules, and you might get rewarded. You don’t, and your life becomes more like living Tartarus. I told you all to kneel, and only he did.”

He gazed around, and it was one of cold malice. I shivered slightly.

“If you don’t follow the rules, bad things happened. And none of you followed the rules. I will leave you with the guards. They will teach you respect.” His speech seemed even icier than his glare.

“You.” He said, lowering his voice. “With me.” He took off down the stairs and towards one of the many tunnels. “Unshackle her hooves.”

A dog rushed forward, and roughly unlocked and pulled off my restraints. They chafed against me, the feeling of rubbing against their rust putting a grimace on my face. Fortunately, it was only a brief discomfort. I hurried down the stairs and after Grimjaw, lengthening my stride so as to keep up with him. As we entered one of the smaller passages, he began to speak to me in an uncannily non-threatening manner.

“In all my years of running this den, in every group of slaves, you are the first to immediately do as I say, without question. Why? Why would you submit so freely?” His question took me only a little off-guard.

“My master, I have no other purpose. No family, no friends, no obligations. In your glorious generosity, you have given me purpose; I will serve you as best I can, for it is all I can do.” I quickly thought of how to phrase my next words, for they would be crucial in my relations with this behemoth. If he took me to be buttering him up, he would kill me. “I haven’t slept indoors for the past year. I have been shunned by my kin, to the point of which I no longer feel as if we are of the same breed. No, master, I do not submit. There never was any thought of resistance.”

He seemed to be deep in thought, our conversation put on a hiatus. We crossed a few other caverns, many filled with slaves mining away, presumably for gems. Dogs and slaves alike paused to bow for their Alpha. When we reached what seemed to be a residential district, he led me into what seemed to be the largest home, presumably his abode. We continued down a hallway.

This bloody act is a bitch to keep up. I’d better practice.

“If you wish to serve me as you say, how can you best do so? What are you good at, slave?” He stopped, turning to me. I responded in kind, and gazed evenly into his eyes.

“My mark shows my proficiency in the culinary arts, but also the art of the blade, hence the knife depicted. Unfortunately, master, your other disciples have taken my weapons. They are of a make and quality comparable to your greathammer. If it pleases you, my master, I can perform for you.” I responded.

Why did I have to start talking like some bloody knight of the Round Table, for Christ’s sakes! This is the most annoying thing I’ve ever had to do – well, scratch that. Definitely not theworst, but pretty damned close.

“If cooking is your talent, cooking is what you shall do. If you do well I will have you cook all of my meals. ‘Your blades,’ as you call them, will be located. I will decide if and when you may get them, depending on your loyalty. For now, you will prepare my dinner; the kitchen is in the room at the end of the hall on the right. One of my mates will be there, most likely; have her help you. I have other matters to attend to.” He turned and walked into a doorway, and looked over his shoulder. “If you even think of leaving, your death will be swift.”

I bowed my head, and trotted to the kitchen. It was a fairly large one, fully equipped as well – there was a pony-made stove and oven, many high quality pots and pans, a knife rack, and what looked to be a refrigerator situated next to a stocked pantry. At a small table set sat a female diamond dog, her luxurious white coat gleaming in the soft light. Upon seeing her, I bowed deeply.

Here we go again.

“I am honored to be in the presence of my master’s mate. Your beauty is truly unbound in comparison to others of your breed.” I raised my head. “My master, the mighty Grimjaw, has tasked me with crafting a meal fit for him, and bids you to help me, my lady.”

The dog grinned, showing teeth, and let out a giggle. “Where’d Grim find you? I’ve never met a suck up so big in my life! ‘Oh, master, it is such an honor to be your slave,’ ha! Quit the act, princess, or I’ll serve YOU for ole’ grim.”

“It is no act. My master has given me new purpose in my life, and his wish is my command. If you wish, I could refer to you by another name, my lady.” I said quickly.

She huffed. “You’re serious. You’re actually buckin’ serious. Why do I always have to be with the crazy ones?” She sighed. “In any case we should get to work. My mate does not enjoy waiting.”

I bowed my head once again, and stood up fully.

At least she’s not going to eat me. Eh, I’ve had worse roommates, honestly. I can deal with her.

“I would suggest a hearty stew of beef and potatoes, and perhaps a few more ingredients. It was popular with the meat-eaters I used to cook for, and I hope it will please both my master and my mistress.” I offered.

“And she cooks with meat. This pony’s getting weirder by the moment…” she grumbled. “Yeah, that sounds good. Hop to it.”

I began to search for the ingredients, and put a pot of water to boil on the stove. As I worked, Grimjaw’s mate watched. As I began to cut carrots, she walked over and hopped up on the counter, swinging her legs back and forth.

“Sooo… Watcha doin’?” She asked.

“Preparing my masters meal, my mistress.” I said, not pausing, making a growing pile of carrot slices.

“Why do you talk like that? It makes you sound a thousand years old.” I put the carrots in the pot, and started on the potatoes.

“Would you prefer I simulate a dialect of another variety?” I asked.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” She scratched her head.

She really isn’t the brightest, is she? Well, at least now I can talk normally.

“So, how ya doin, mistress? Anything troubling you?” I said, slipping back into my regular accent.

“Well, Garjaw’s been away more, so I haven’t seen as much of him as I’d like.”

That is LITERALLY what she said.

“But, that means I don’t have to do much besides hang out. Anyways, it’s a little weird being with him; he’s a lot older than I am. He’s like, 28, and I’m just 21.” She continued, oblivious to my mental processes.

Might as well get some mind-reading practice in.

‘Well, Garjaw’s got himself a new fuck-toy, I bet. I almost feel sorry for her. Well, I’ll have fun killing both of them tomorrow. Playing the stupid bitch is frustrating.’ I almost sliced a chunk of my foreleg off as I ‘heard’ what she thought.

DAFUQ?

Trying my best to keep acting normal, I finished off the potatoes and responded to her comment. “Would you want any advice, mistress?”

“Sure.” She shrugged.

“The advice most dogs or ponies would give you is to think things through, not to overreact, and not to rush. I, however, would tell you to jump in headfirst. Take some bloody risks. Your relationship might not be as stable, but when it is, it’ll be better than you can imagine.” I turned to her. “Well, except if you’re thinking about murder or something; that doesn’t usually end well.” I added.

She said nothing, but I saw a flash of recognition on her face. I turned back to my work.

Well, this is one bloody pretty pickle.

Chapter the Fourth: Unburnig Bridges and Avoiding Bitches

Well, this is one bloody pretty pickle.

Through all the bloody shit I’ve had to deal with these last couple of days, this almost doesn’t surprise me. Almost.  At least I know that it’s coming and a rough estimate of when.

                   Grimjaw’s traitorous mate had left a while ago, and I was almost ready to serve my meal to my “master.” Dishing out the stew, I was actually quite pleased with how it had turned out. The kitchen was surprisingly well stocked, considering.

Not even literally bloody murder is going to stop me from getting out of this hellhole.

oOo

                   Hay was surprisingly comfortable. It’s no feather bed, but after sleeping on the ground for a few days, it seemed a luxury. My newfound owner had deemed my meal “far better” than the gruel they served the other dogs here.

                   I should probably remember that ponies don’t eat meat though. That got a bit awkward for a bit.

                   I was provided with a dry pile of hay to sleep on for the night, and, as per usual, opened the floodgates. I made sure to stay silent, however – incurring the wrath of my “host” didn’t seem like a bright idea. However, after my tears stopped flowing, I was still awake.

                   What was I doing, you ask? Planning.

I’ll have to stick near Grimjaw as much as possible, in order to warn him. Saving his life probably will get me some bonus points from him. I’ll have to be just bloody constantly looking for our assailants; I can read the minds of those near us to see whether or not they’re in on the whole damn shebang. In fact, I should probably see if I can search for others effectively with my mind.

                   Reaching out mentally, I probed the area around me. Just sending myself into open space felt a lot different than going directly into a mind; it felt almost cold, like stepping into a walk-in freezer. I felt two presences above me, one to my right and about twenty feet forward, and a strange signature far away. I say strange as a relative term; the force just felt different from the others around me. And the fact that I could sense it so far away was another interesting thing about it.

                   Reaching out in curiosity, I tried to plunge my mind into it. I seemed to just flow around it, almost rolling along the outer shell. After a few attempts, I tried to simply take a hold of it. Struggling mentally with it, I realized something peculiar; I could move it.

                   I tried pulling it towards me, and, to my surprise, it compressed and shot forwards, rocketing at me. Recoiling in shock, I barely recognized that it had already hit me. Suddenly, I felt something wrap around me, and a weight was placed on me. Pulling myself into the material realm, I turned and looked at me side wildly, searching for the intrusion.

                   Covering my body was my armor, blades and all, perfectly adjusted and snug. I stood up.

That is just so nifty.

                   Walking in a circle and looking over my self, something occurred to me.

If I can put it ON with my mind, can I take it OFF?

                   Feeling for my gear, the sensation now much closer, I tried moving it off of me. It didn’t budge. Frowning, I tried a different approach: I squeezed with my mind. Instantly, I opened my eyes as a sensation similar to that of my shape shifting rushed over my body. I looked to see the leather, steel, and cloth meld into me, becoming one with my flesh.

Wat.

                   A wave of fatigue swept over me, and I wobbled. Stepping over to my makeshift mattress, I plopped down, and was out like a light.

oOo

                   I woke up that morning to a dog standing over me, prodding me with his foot. I groaned, and clumsily got to my feet. Looking up at the canine in question, I grumbled.

                   “What?” My voice was scratchy and hoarse.

                   “Alpha want you to make food. I bring you to kitchen.” I sighed.

                   “Lead the way. This place is a bloody maze, you know.” I scoffed.

                   It didn’t take long to get to the kitchen, where I evaluated my options.

Well, in the show, they ate gems, so I could have a bowl of gems set out in the middle. Seeing as they have flour and eggs, I assume they’ll be able to eat pancakes. I could make some sort of foster for the sauce, seeing as there’s no bloody chance in hell that they’ll have maple syrup.

                   Getting to work with mixing the batter, I almost didn’t notice that the dog was still behind me. I eyed him casually, and he grinned wildly.

                   “What.” I deadpanned. He grinned wider.

                   Shaking my head, I finished the batter and fired up the stove and put some pans on to heat. Searching around, I made a fantastic discovery: fresh strawberries, enough to make foster and have a lot to spare! On top of that, I found a pile of ruby-red gems, and put them in a bowl.

Ooh, this is going to be bloody FANTASTIC!

                   About half an hour later, I had a stack of hot pancakes about a foot high, a pitcher of strawberries foster, a bowl of what I assumed to be rubies, and a set table.

Oh, and a creepy stalker dog still staring at me.

I turned to him. “My master’s meal is ready. Who shall inform him?”

“Pony come with me to Grimjaw now.” The broken English was making him sound dumber than a rock.

“Works for me.” I said.

We walked the corridors until, stopping at the end of one, the dog knocked on a door about three times my current height, and about half that wide. It was reinforced wood, iron bands and studs inlayed into the frame and body. A voice called out from inside.

“Who goes there?” I identified the speaker as my ‘master.’

“It is I, master. You may break your fast now.” I said, reverting to my ye olde timey accent.

I heard steps from inside, and then the door opened to reveal Grimjaw and his mate. I bowed deeply, and then rose.

“Dog, lead the way.” The behemoth gestured, and his packmate obliged.

Entering the kitchen, I watched my captors intensely from the corners of my eyes. I saw a look of confusion on Grimjaw’s face.

“What is this that you have prepared for us, Cloud Runner?” Came the skeptical question.

“Pancakes and strawberries foster, master. It is a dish popular among ponyfolk.” I bowed my head.

Sitting at the table, the two Alphas waited expectantly. I rushed over and served them each a few pancakes, poured some foster on them, and placed two gems on each of their plates. The still unnamed female dog was the first to try my cooking, and seemed pleased as she demolished her first plate. Grimjaw was quick to follow, and I watched them take chunks off of the stack. Grimjaw gestured for me to have a seat myself, and I took a meager portion, minus the gemstones.

Once the stack was completely gone, and the plates were licked almost sparklingly clean, the slave owner in front of me leaned back and burped loudly. We sat in silence a moment before I started to reach out to their minds.

‘I almost regret giving Ironclaw permission to have fun with her. Cooks, cleans, and has good looks. If Silverchase wasn’t so adamant about just being with her, I’d already be all over that.’ I shuddered as I intercepted Grimjaw’s current train of thought.

‘I might just keep this one around. Although killing her would be fun, this cooking is just too good to waste.’ Silverchase pondered.

I’m not sure whose bloody side to be on anymore; the rapist, or the psycho bitch.

“Cloud Runner, go with Ironclaw over there. Take care of his needs.” Grimjaw ordered.

“As you wish.” I bowed.

Dear god no.

I turned and walked over to the doorway, my new master still grinning creepily.

oOo

The walk to his den was uneventful and silent, apart from the ambient noises of labor. It was a decent ways away, and the trip took around 15 minutes. His ‘house’ had a single door on it, covered with a pelt of some animal.

Well, this is it. Either I run now or… Dear bloody fucking cunt Got en Hieml.

Reaching out to his mind, I tried desperately to find anything to help me with the horrible situation I was in.

‘I can’t wait to destroy this-‘ My eyes widened.

Oh fuck – wait, no, don’t fuck me.

I steeled myself as we walked to the ‘door,’ and, as I walked inside, I got prepared to retrieve my weapons. I stepped through before him, and spun on my hooves, I shifted into my ‘natural’ form, and simultaneously, pulled on the presence of my gear. My perspective shifted, and I felt the weight of the arms & armor suddenly on my body. Drawing my swords, I lunged forward in a stab with my right arm.

Ironclaw, oblivious to what I had done, walked straight into my attack, the shard tip piercing the soft tissue protecting his windpipe easily, and stopping against his spinal column. His paws shot to his throat and he gurgled noisily. He stumbled, and my blade slipped out, and I lowered it. Blood spurted from the wound, darkening his thick fur with the thick, crimson liquid.

I was frozen in shock for a moment, staring at my handiwork. Shaking my head, I focused on the task at hand: getting the fuck out of this bloody hellhole. Sheathing my swords, I pulled Ironclaw further into his home, leaving a steady trail of bloody splotches. I found a small closet, and shoved his body into it hastily. Thinking quickly, I shape shifted into an exact copy of the dog before me, albeit uninjured. Steeling myself once again, I set off on my way out of the warren.

oOo

                   Not five minutes into my trip to the surface, I saw something that stopped me in my tracks. Not ten feet away, a very familiar pony was cowering next to two dogs, on holding her down while the other was positioned behind her, and was about to force himself onto the pony.

How the hell did Ridge get here?

                   “Dogs! What are you doing? Leave pony with me, you go work now!” I imitated the broken speech of the dogs as much as I could.

                   The two mutts almost leapt out of their skins as they turned to my icy glare. “Now!”

                   They scurried off, leaving the pony in a ball, shaking uncontrollably, staring up at me. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks were wet. I softened my glare, and smiled softly.

                   “Please come with me. I’m not going to hurt you.” I said in a softer tone.

                   The purple pegasus scooted backwards, eyes wide with fear. Approaching her slowly, I stopped next to her, her back against a wall. I extended a paw to help her up. Tentatively, she raised her hoof into it, and I pulled her up.

                   I started walking back on the path I was on before, and waved her over to me. She trotted over next to me. In silence, we ascended, cavern by cavern, tunnel by tunnel, until we stepped out, past a group of guards who stood at attention upon seeing me, into the light of day. I saw, a small ways away, the road where I came in, and, past that, Trottingham. I led us down into the forest, and I noticed Ridge start to get twitchy, obviously nervous. I stopped and turned to her, my hands behind my back.

                   “How did you happen to be captured, pony?” I asked the mare.

                   “I- I was looking for a friend. He, uh… he left the city, and I tried to follow him…” She turned her head to the side, and cowered before me.

                   “What was your friend’s name?” I softened my voice.

                   “Ummm… His name’s Prince. We haven’t really known each other for that long, and I did something mean and made him leave, and I was just… Eep!” She squeaked and dropped down onto the ground, hooves over her head, as I reached over to her. I placed my paw on her shoulder.

                   “I forgive you.” I whispered, changing my form to the one she had first seen me in.

                   Ridge looked up, and her eyes went wide as she saw me. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t get words out for a moment, but then spoke, “P-Prince?”

                   “The one and only.”

                   She lunged at me in a hug-tackle, wrapping me in her wings and forelegs. I responded in kind.

                   “It’s Naztharune Rakshasa, by the way.” I whispered.

                    “What?” She looked a little confused.

                   “I’m not a changeling, I’m a Rakshasa.” Releasing my grasp, I stepped back, and shifted to my ‘natural’ form.

                   She looked up at me, eyes going wider. “What the…”

                   I quickly shifted back to pony form, and her gaze followed my eyes back down. “We should get going.”

                   Ridge just nodded, and looked over to where the road was. Taking off, we flew up above the clouds, and on towards Trottingham.

oOo

                   “So you’re telling me that you discovered a plot to dethrone the Alpha,”

                   “Yep.”

                   “Killed one of his betas,”

                   “Mmmhm.”

                   “And not only escaped yourself, but managed to somehow save a member of the guard from sexual abuse and proceed to smuggle the SAME MARE out past the guards, and back here?” The Captain of Trottingham’s guard sat before me behind his desk, rubbing his temples.

                   “Sounds about right.” I said smoothly.

                   “Private Shifter, can you confirm any of this?” He turned to the purple mare.

                   “I can confirm the parts involving me, but the others are still up in the air. But, sir, if it means anything, I believe him.” Ridge said.

                   Turning back to me, the captain frowned. He scanned my face, trying to discern anything from my expression. I kept a still and calm demeanor. He sighed, and spun around in his chair, facing the wall for a moment. When he turned back, he had a look of determination on his face.

                   “If what you two say is true, and the Alpha is being overthrown as we speak, it gives us an opportunity. If I know those dogs, they’ll start infighting to see who’s gonna be the next alpha. In the confusion, we can blindside ‘em, and the bastards won’t know who to fight.” He put his hoof down on the desk hard. “We can get rid of this thorn in our side once and for all.”

                   “Now you’re bloody thinking with portals.” I grinned.

                   He looked confused for a moment, but regained his composure. “You two, go home. Prince, you’ll be compensated, and Ridge, take some time off. Oh, and, where will you be staying, Prince?”

                   “With me.” Ridge said firmly. I looked at her, and she nodded

                   “Alright then. Get outta here, I need to send some letters, and arrange a press conference, and if you two cause me any more stress I’m going to explode.” He turned away, and we exited his office.

oOo

                   It had been two days since our return, and we had gotten news of the success of the raid on Crystal Rim, and I had been bonding with Ridge some more. She was very apologetic about what had happened, and I had reassured her that it was fine, but she still seemed worked up about it. Today, she had given me a few bits to grab some breakfast for the two of us, and, already feeling like I was freeloading, obliged.

                   With a bag of pastries in each saddlebag and a pep in my step, I made my merry way back to Ridge’s place of residence. Climbing the stairs, I reached the appropriate floor, and, stepping out into the hallway, instantly knew something was wrong. I just had this feeling in my gut that something bad was going to happen, and it was going to happen soon. Now, I’m just about as superstitious as the next guy, but I always listen to my gut. It’s never let me down. Putting down my saddlebags gently, I prepared to ‘draw’ my weapons and armor at a moment’s notice.

                   Creeping forward slowly, the thick carpet muffling each step, I approached the entrance to Ridge’s room. It was open just a crack, and within I could hear the sounds of a struggle. Thinking quickly, my eye level dropped down low, my body scaling itself down. I looked just like I had, minus the cutie mark, only smaller. Nudging the door open, I crept inside.

                   The sounds of the struggle grew louder, emanating from one of the two bedrooms. I probed the interior of the room in question, and found four signatures, only one of which I knew: Ridge.

Really? Again?

                   I put on my biggest innocent face, and, following my spur-of-the-moment plan, I opened the door. I internally fumed with rage at the sight of the same red pegasus stallion, accompanied by two ponies, one yellow, one blue, attempting to hold down my friend. Stepping forward as eyes turned to me, I saw a flash of recognition in her eyes.

Clever girl.

                   They all had stopped mid-fight, a tangle of hooves and legs. I hopped up on the bed, and, retaining my look of innocent ignorance, cocked my head and questioned. “Are you three misters playing with my auntie Ridge? If you are, three on one doesn’t seem very fair.”

                   “Uhmm, yeah, we’re playing right now. Your auntie is on her own team because… uh… She’s so good at it! Unless she’s alone, she’d always beat everyone!” The red stallion responded first, shoving his hoof into Ridge’s mouth to stop her from speaking. “But, uhh… no little colts allowed in this game, so…”

                   A few bits flew into the air and then in front of my feet. “Go get some ice cream for yourself! Yeah! Uhhh, we’ll just come get you when we’re done!” He turned back to the task at hand, as well as the other two assailants.

                   “Um, Mr. Blue?” I said, and the blue pegasus turned his head. “Surprise.”

                   I elongated my currently flat teeth into fangs, and, flashing them, lunged at the stallion. A fury overtook me, my mind speeding past logic and reason and straight to rampant bloodlust. I felt my jaws close around his neck, sharp canines sinking into his windpipe. Tearing the bloody hunk of flesh in my mouth off of him and spitting it out in one motion, I ignored the grisly work I had done to the pegasus. Blood squirted from some severed artery and onto my face and into my mouth as I grew to my full size, feathers replaced by leathery skin. I towered over the others, crimson liquid dripping from my maw, I roared.

                   A hook hit me on the cheek, smarting but not doing much damage. Nevertheless, it knocked my head to the side a bit, and I snapped back to attention. I saw the red ringleader of the pegasi cock another hoof back to strike me once more, but I hit faster, snapping his head back in turn. I was blindsided by the yellow one, knocking us both off of the bed, and I yelped in pain as I felt something snap. My side was on fire, and I gritted my teeth. Reverting to instinctual combat tactics, I plunges my teeth into my attacker’s shoulder, and I was rewarded with a scream of pain, and I twisted and ripped until I had savaged him. Spinning, I bucked the disabled pony off of the bed, his head hitting the wall hard as he let out one last groan. His blood smeared a trail down the paint, a gruesome contrast against the eggshell white surface.

                   Once again pushing the pain away, I wheeled around, preparing for the next onslaught of blows. To my surprise, I saw a panting Ridge Shifter standing over the unconscious body of the red stallion, his wing twisted unnaturally, obviously broken. I took a step forward, and tried to speak. As I tried to form words, I coughed, and a spray of blood replaced my articulations. I lowered my head, coughs wracking my body, more and more of the crimson liquid exited my throat. I saw Ridge turn, but I didn’t look up, due to my sudden light headedness.

                   My side was on fire, and the left half of my ribcage was shattered in several places. I shrunk down to my now ‘normal,’ smaller equine form. My legs shook and my vision blurred as I saw the pooling blood spread beneath me, as I swayed side to side. My legs gave out, and I fell onto my uninjured side. Blood dripped out of my mouth, both my own and that of my victims.

                   I was in a state of limbo somewhere between the waking world and the realm of unconsciousness as I was taken from the room, along with three other ponies, to the hospital on stretchers. A unicorn stood over me, her face blurry and unremarkable, and I barely felt the IV on my foreleg. A mask was placed over my snout, and I breathed in the gas coming from it. I saw Ridge watching from the corner of the room, just before I felt the sedatives do their work.

oOo

                   I drifted awake, slowly dragging my mind into gear, my eyes still shut. I laid still for a while, the pain in my side reduced to a dull ache. Slowly, I pried my eyes open, squinting at the harsh artificial lighting of the room. As the world came into focus, I saw that my surroundings appeared to be as white as snow, the sterile, pristine white of a hospital, as that was obviously where I was located. Looking up, I saw an IV and heart rate monitor suspended above my head, the soft *beep* of the devices rhythmical and calming. I raised my head, peering at the side I had hurt in the fight. Gingerly lifting the covers, I saw my midriff wrapped in bandages. I dropped my hoof, a sharp pain in my side causing my entire left side to twinge. I winced hard, and gritted my teeth.

                   “Medico.” I whispered.

                   Instantly, the pain disappeared, and the ache in my side was gone. Experimentally lifting myself up, the pain did not return. I rolled out of the bed, and onto the floor. I carefully pulled the IV out, wincing slightly as the needle slid from underneath my skin. Turning around, I saw I was in a single room, the door wide open, leading into a hallway. Walking out, I looked both ways, and spotted a nurse.

                   “Umm, excuse me?” I called out to her.

                   She looked over to me, and, stopping what she was doing, ran over to me. “Sir, you shouldn’t be out of bed! You are in no condition to be doing anything, at the moment!”

                   “I swear I’m alright. My side’s all healed; I just need to know how the mare that came in with me is doing.” I reassured the teal-colored mare.

                   “That’s not possible, Mr. Prince, our left lung was punctured in three different places, and you had five broken ribs, and three more fractured! Now, you need to get back in bed right now!” Her expression was one of concern, and, although appreciated, was not what I was looking for.

                   “I have to know if she’s alright! Her name is Ridge Shifter! She most likely came in with me.” I was getting frustrated.

                   “Mrs. Shifter was released from the hospital two days ago, and has visited you twice a day. Now, please get back in bed!” She was reaching the same point as me.

                   Instead of responding verbally, I just ripped off the bandages on my side, exposing some stiches surrounded by fur, barely visible. A few faint scars showed as well. I prodded it a couple of times for added effect, showing that there was no pain or give. I looked back up at the nurse.

                   “See?” I looked intently at her. “Now, can I get out of this place?”

oOo

                   A bit of paperwork and some doctor’s insistent instructions later, I was admitted out of the hospital, and I had started finding my way to Ridge’s place, when I was stopped by a lightly armored guard stallion.

                   “Are you Mr.Prince?” He stared coolly at me.

                   “That would be me, officer. Does there seem to be a problem?” I held my composure, wanting to make a good impression.

                   “You’re wanted for questioning at the station. I’m going to have to ask you to follow me.”  His firm tone held authority.

                   “I don’t want any bloody trouble, man. Just lead the way.” The unnamed guard led me a few blocks away from my original position, and into the so-called ‘station.’ Walking past other guards, in uniform and out, we headed down a hallway. The guard opened a door for me, and I noticed a plaque on the wall next to it.

Head Investigator Sharp Thought. Well, I can’t say this wasn’t expected.

                   Walking into the room, I noticed two things; one: the door had shut behind me, and two: it was dark. The only light was from a small lamp on the lone desk in the middle of the room. Illuminated in were two chairs, one on either side of the desk. The one further from me was turned around so that I could only see a little sliver of the pony that sat in it.

Well, this can’t get any more bloody cliché.

                   “Take a seat.” A voice called from behind the desk.

                   I obliged, and the pony spun the chair around slowly, finally coming into view. He was a light blue, almost grey stallion with a grey mane. I couldn’t discern any other details partially because of the lighting, and partially because he wore a trench coat.

I guess I just bloody lied, then.

                   Resting his elbows on the table, he put his chin in his hooves and stared intently at me. I held a straight face, despite being tempted to laugh at the absurdity of what was happening. We stared at each other for a moment before he finally spoke.

                   Pulling out a manila folder, he pushed it towards me and opened it. “Three days ago, Mrs. Shifter was in her home when three stallions broke in. They assaulted her, and were allegedly preparing to rape her. A week or so before that, one of the three tried to do the same on their own. In both incidents, things have been out of place. Either lack of concrete evidence, evidence that forensic experts can’t make head nor tail of. Now, through some piecing together, I’ve found that there is one thing that connects these…” He splayed out a few pictures of the most recent crime scene. “…to this.” He pulled out a scrap of newspaper titled Local Guard Sexually Assaulted in Own Home. “And, Mr. Prince, that thing happens to be sitting in front of me. According to the witness, you’ve been staying with her, but declined to answer on whether or not you were there at either incident.”

                   Sweeping away the pictures in front of me, he pushed a new set forward. It was the bite pattern of something that I realized was probably mine. Next to it, a different picture, albeit bigger, depicted the same thing.

                   “Now, at first glance, this might look something like a hydra attack, seeing as this pattern” He pointed at one of the two. “Is smaller than this one,” he moved his hoof to point at the one next to it. “But are clearly the same layout. Some hydras are known to have central, larger heads, while having several smaller ones on either side. With closer examination, however, one can discover that this isn’t the bite pattern of any known breed of carnivore, hydra or not. Further than that, and you might find that this” he pushed an x-ray of a lower jaw. “has an almost identical layout of teeth as the other two.”

                   He held up the x-ray. “I got a copy of this at my last appointment to the dentist.”

                   He paused for a while, boring into my eyes with his own, as if trying to read my mind. Once again exchanging the foremost images for another set, he pulled out the remaining contents of the folder. This time, they were drawings, probably police sketches from what I could see. The pony depicted was my monstrous alter ego, bat wings and all. In one of them, it showed in detail a set of fangs. To be honest, it looked kind of like a shitty OC.

                   “This was what the two surviving attackers described as what stopped them. This is what is referred to, by most ponies, as a vampony. The stallion who conducted the first assault also mentioned that it was the same creature that stopped him then.” His gaze never wavered.

Let’s take a look in your bloody head; I don’t want a stake through my heart if I can’t help it.

‘Garlic’s in the middle drawer on the right, to left is the stake, and past that is the water blessed by Celestia. Start off with garlic, if that doesn’t work, the water, then, if all else fails, the stake. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to any of that, and that I’m wrong about this.’

Well, let’s play this cool.

                   “By process of deduction, you are… although I hate to say it, an actual vampony, and, for some reason, have decided to protect this mare.” He spoke more reluctantly, and I saw him tense up.

That’s… Actually a good cover story. I’m a vampony, trying to atone for the acts I performed because of bloodlust. Mysterious, and kind of believable. If I ask everyone to call me Prince as a name, he’ll assume that’s what I am – a vampire prince – so I’ll need a name. And… I could call myself Beleren. Prince Jace Beleren. Mill always my favorite deck type.

                   I realized we had been staring at each other for quite a while, not saying a word. I decided it was time for a dramatic reveal.

                   I purposely tried to slow the change down, drawing it out to show off the transition. When I was done, my eye level was far above his. I looked down. As our eyes met, I saw a spark of fear, and then one of determination. I saw him tense even more, preparing to use what ‘weapons’ he had hid inside of the desk.

                   As I saw him about to spring into motion, I spoke, cutting him off. “Although strong, I do enjoy the taste and smell of it. The water on the opposite side of the stick might as well have come from a tap. The stick itself… driving a sharp object into just about anything’s heart will kill it. You could kill me more easily with some sort lance or spear. I suppose loss of blood would bring about my death as well. In fact, most conceivable ways of dying for you are applicable to me. However, I would greatly appreciate it if you would not end my life just yet. Maybe dinner and a date first.”

                   His hooves dropped from the drawer as I said this and he looked warily at me. “Well, this is certainly a surprise.”

                   I dropped the act, and smiled widely at this, being careful to not show too much teeth. “Formal name’s Prince Jace Beleren of the house Dimir, but I just go by Prince or Jace. Nice to bloody meet you.”

                   I extended a hoof, and we shook. “Just call me Sharp, Mr- err… Jace, everypony dose. Nice to make your acquaintance. I’m going to have to decline on your offer though, I’m not sure what you would call ‘dinner’ would be particularly appetizing to me. Also, I’m married.”

Everything went better than expected.

Chapter the Fifth: Curious Cops and Calming Coltfriends

Everything went better than expected.

                   The Investigator took things pretty well, considering. After a short conversation, he showed me the forensics report on the injuries. One dead, one lost the use of one of his front forelegs, and the third had a concussion. It was at that point that it finally hit me – so far, I had killed two people in the past week. Killed.

                   To be more accurate, it hit my stomach. I excused myself to the nearest restroom.

                   After cleaning up, I came back to Sharp’s office. He had a lot of questions, most of which I declined to answer, including the location of the rest of my race, which I waved off as ‘far away.’ He reassured me that the police report would be kept on a need-to-know basis, and wouldn’t be publicly released.

                   On top of that, under the Good Samaritan act, charges would be dropped. It was made by Princess Celestia some three hundred years ago, when an ex-guard killed one and injured two bank robbers in defense of a few mares. Fortunately for him, Celestia intervened on the court case and dropped all charges. I was released from the police station without too much more trouble, only having to give a statement on what had transpired for the records. I finally headed back to my friend’s apartment.

                   That was when things got awkward.

oOo

Bloody hell, man. Talk about bad timing.

oOo

*rewind*

                   Walking down the street, I spied a stand selling fresh soft pretzels, and realized I was hungry – very much so, in fact. Using what little money I had, I bought a lemonade and a pretzel with everything on it, and sate down on a nearby bench and ate my impromptu meal.

                   I took this time to reflect over what I had learned about the new world I was in, and about my new body. Theorizing about how I somehow knew how to fly and use my weapons right off the bat, I came back to my shape shifting ability.

Maybe I just automatically know the basics of how the body works, and how to use it when I change into it? That would explain the speed in which I learned to fly. But then again, I couldn’t cast magic as a unicorn. But wait, I COULD use a pegasus’s cloud-walking magic. Maybe… Oh! Maybe I can gain full access to the magic and body of something by reading its mind. I made a link with Skimmer, and griffons can walk on clouds as well! So, in theory, if I extract enough information from something, I can mimic a fully developed member of their species! Skip the learning curve, strait to the good stuff. Bloody fantastic.

                   Testing my theory was very simple; I just had to read the minds of as many unicorns as possible. I started with one sitting on the bench just behind me. I delved into his mind, seeing all the surface thoughts swirling around. This time, I tried going deeper. The process was actually mentally straining, and I had to push through unseen barriers, but I was able to go deeper and deeper. I saw flashes of his past, like a moving slideshow displaying ten different memories at once. It was almost overwhelming, but I kept on sifting, until I came upon what I was looking for: a little corner of his psyche containing his knowledge of magic. I metaphorically dove into it, and began almost drinking in the information, copying it and bringing it into my own mind.

                   I don’t know how to explain the feeling of any of that, or how it seemed so easy, but lessons upon lessons and spells upon spells – the stallion must have been a professor or librarian, or something else of the sort – flashed before my eyes, temporarily immobilizing me. What was years of experience was gained in milliseconds, hours upon hours of practice performed in a fraction of a fraction of a minute.

                   It was a sensory overload; hearing a teacher drone on about theory and complex arcane equations, tasting a potion brewed, feeling the curvature of a rune, seeing the strings of magic do their work, smelling brimstone and sulfur, all in the blink of an eye. Eventually snapping out of my daze, I refocused on the world around me. Peering side to side, I noticed a back alley to my right. I casually walked into it, and, once I was obscured from view, exchanged my wings for a horn.

                   I now felt a tangible buildup of energy in my body, focused around my horn. Looking at an old tin can on the ground, I reached out to it in an eerily familiar way, and I saw a grey aura appear around. Suppressing a child-like squeal of glee, I jumped from hoof to hoof in excitement.

This is so bloody cool!

                   I floated the can around me, zipping it back and forth for a while, before dropping it. I concentrated hard, trying to think of something more complex. To my surprise and frustration, all the memories I had taken seemed to be just out of my metaphorical ‘reach.’

Why the bloody hell can’t I use his memories? Wait… It’s not that I can’t use them… I just plain can’t access them, at least not yet.

                   Reaching into my own mind, I tried finding the stolen experience. It seemed to be compacted in a ball, apart from my main consciousness. This was the first time anything in any mind had made a definitive shape, and I was taken aback.

What the…

                   It was like a glass ball filled with a wispy blue smoke, swirling around within. I was entranced by it for a moment, staring into the roiling depths that seemed to have a mind of their own. Around it, coiling slowly, small tendrils of the mist moved less sporadically than those on the interior flowed towards the rest of my mind, then spreading out to various corners of my consciousness.

I’m not even going to try and bloody figure that one out. I guess more advanced magic will have to bloody wait.

                   Angrily, I decided that I had left Ridge hanging long enough – it was time to head back to her place.

oOo

Stepping into the landing of the tall building, I started making my way up. I passed a foal and its mother on the way up, and we exchanged pleasantries. Reaching the floor where I would be residing, I once again knocked on Ridge’s door. I heard a muffled curse, a clattering of hooves, and the lock on the door slide out of place. The door swung open, and I saw Ridge, wearing a messy apron, looking as disheveled as can be. Well, at least I saw her backside as she started walking back into the kitchen.

“Hold on, Gleam. I’ll just be a moment, and then I’ll properly welcome you.” She seemed very distracted, and I smelled food cooking.

“Uh, Ridge. My name’s not bloody gleam.” I deadpanned.

She spun around, a look of surprise on her face. “Oh my gosh! Sorry, I thought you were some pony else.”

We both closed the gap between us and hugged, her discarding the apron as we neared each other, nuzzling each other I picked up from watching the interactions of other ponies when I went out and about. “They told me you would be there for about a week. How are you already out?”

“Well, I-“ A voice cut me off.

“get you Celestia-damned hooves of my bucking marefriend!”

oOo

Bloody hell, man. Talk about bad timing.

I turned my head to see an azure blue pegasus stallion with a darker blue mane stood in the doorway, seething with rage. “I’m gone for a month, and you already go behind my bucking back with some random stallion?!” he yelled at ridge, who visibly cringed at the verbal assault.

“Gleam, it isn’t like that! You know I would never do that!” She retorted, obviously hurt at the remark.

“Oh, yeah? You seemed to be getting pretty close to lover boy over here! Explain that!” He yelled back, angrier than before.

Ridge was about to reply, but I cut her off, taking a few steps towards the aggravated pegasus. “Hey man, this is NOT what it bloody looks like. Ridge and I-“

The stallion stormed towards me, and shoving face into mine, yelled once more. “Oh, and what is it then? Just casually feeling up my marefriend?!”

“No! It was a completely platonic gesture! I don’t even date outside of my own species!” I retorted.

Looks like that backstory will come in handy well bloody sooner than expected.

The still-unnamed stallion turned his fiery gaze at Ridge once more, his eyes now burning with fury. “And he’s a bucking changeling?!”

Now or never.

I shifted to my ‘vampony’ form as he took more steps towards Ridge. When the change was complete, I spoke clearly, cutting of the stallion. “Vampire, actually. There’s a HUGE difference, trust me. One of use feeds on flesh, the other on love. Simple as that.”

“What the buck…” He muttered as he saw me, bat wings and all. I turned, and, shutting the door, reverted to my go-to form. I turned back to see the stallion eyeing me warily. His gaze shot back to Ridge. “AND he’s a bucking VAMPONY? What kind of sick, twisted fetishes do you have?”

I blanked for a moment, completely flabbergasted at the current situation.

What the… I mean, actually… WHAT?

Coming back to reality, I saw the two in each other’s faces, yelling their heads off. I could almost see spittle flying back and forth, and I could barely tell what they were saying in their cacophony of anger.

Okay, how to stop this? Ummm…. Oh, yes. Bloody yes.

Grinning, I shifted my form to that of my unicorn counterpart. Stepping closer, I readied my newfound levitation magic, and, not very subtly, pushed their heads together.

Ridge is either going to hate me for this, or love me forever.

                   The unexpected movement made them pause their ranting, giving me the perfect opportunity. Tilting their heads, I forced both of their lips together.

                   There was a flash of surprise on both of their faces, and they looked around wildly, but quickly locked eyes with each other. Releasing my hold, I let them regain control of their bodies.

                   They didn’t last ten seconds before…

                   Umm…

                   You get the picture.

oOo

                   I had just finished dinner, trying to block out the sounds coming from the bedroom, set the table, and sat down when Ridge and Gleam came out looking disheveled and in a state of bliss , and on top of that, unparalleled by the effects of any drugs.

                   Oh? How did I figure out his name? Well, Ridge was probably expecting him, and not me, hence her calling me by his name. Oh, and it helps when his name was literally yelled nonstop over and over again in the room next to me, accompanied by some other rather… Interesting comments.

                   The couple sat down with me around the small table, and I eyed both of them casually. They began eating slowly, an awkward silence falling over everyone.

                   “Umm… You’re cool in my book. For a vampony. I guess…” Gleam grinned awkwardly, trying to break the tension. He went to give me a light punch on my shoulder, but I flinched away, pushing his hoof away.

                   “I have no bloody idea where that’s been, and I have no intention of finding out. The gesture, however, is appreciated. Name’s Prince.” I said, my voice much more gruff than usual.

                   Ridge, too, tried breaking the tension. “This is really good. Where’d you learn to do this?”

                   I shrugged casually; grateful for the praise- I’ve always been proud of my cooking. “I picked it up from my mother. She did it for a living.”

                   I had finished (and saved) Ridge’s attempt at lasagna to the best of my abilities. Unfortunately, there wasn’t any meat, but, even if there was, I don’t think my current company would appreciate that kind of cuisine. It was true that my mom was a chef – she owned her own restaurant, and I worked there part-time.

                   “But really, this is good.” Gleam gestured with his fork. “Oh, and, by the way, my name’s Gleam.”

                   “So I’ve heard.” Both of them blushed furiously - something that shouldn’t really be possible with fur - and shifted uncomfortably.

                   “So, where were you for the past couple of weeks? I haven’t seen you around.” I addressed Gleam.

                   “I was escorting a caravan to Canterlot, and there’s a lot of D-Dog activity reported on that route, as well as the one to Manehatten.” He said through a mouthful of food. “We didn’t see any, but we were pretty heavily armed, so that probably scared ‘em off.”

                   “Ridge and I have some experience with the pack on the way to Manehatten. I hear the guard smoked ‘em out of their hole like rats in a sewer” I responded, looking back over to Ridge.

                   “I’d just as well forget that experience, mind you.” Ridge grumbled.

                   “Really? What happened?” Gleam had a look of curiosity on his face.

                   “Long story short, I got foalnapped, and then Ridge got captured looking for me. We made it out, told the guard, and they raided the place.” Ridge rolled her eyes.

                   “By that he means he saved my sorry flank.” She deadpanned

                   “Hey, I bloody owed you one. Remember Skimmer? That bastard was psychotic.” Gleam started laughing.

                   “You didn’t owe me anything! You stopped that lunkhead beforehoof!” Was the retort. Gleam started laughing.

                   “That didn’t even count! It took no effort!” I yelled. Our company fell out of his chair.

Jesus fucking Christ, these ponies drive me to drink.