A Time Traveler's Perspective

It doesn’t take long before I see one of the guards approach me.

Blue hair, horn, this is the one that had approached me before. This is the one that I had been sarcastic to, told him that fake name. The expression that I should see is anger, or frustration, but instead I see a smile on his face. That’s probably the most confusing thing about it. Another thing that I’m wondering is why I would get a Captain to be watching me.

Surely there are more important things for a Captain to do.

“Wow, I must be pretty important to get a Captain stalking me around…”

“Not stalking, watching.” To me, they were kind of the same thing. This is one of those things that I know better to argue with him about, though, because I would probably end up losing. Even if I won, he would probably be in a bad mood and that wouldn’t be good for me at all.

“And I have a duty to do around here, so I’m just here to tell you about a change in plans. You’re going to have two of the guards escort you to Ponyville, to see if you can fit into society. You’ll find out who you’re going to be dealing with when you get there. I’d tell you about her, but … I’m going to let that be a surprise.”

A bag hovers over to me. “I’m also supposed to give you this back. We had to take it to make sure that nothing dangerous was inside.”

Up until now, the journal had been completely out of my thoughts. I know I need it, though, because of the fact that it’s part of the reason why I’m here at all anyway. I have to document these ponies, I have to know if they’re safe to be around, and I have to make sure that the society functions well enough to trust.

That all will take time and research.

That worries me. I’m not going to know anything about the pony who is going to be watching over me, aside from gender. That doesn’t even tell me much, because the difference in size between males and females seems to be varied. Princess Celestia is much larger than any of the others, but Princess Cadance seems to be about the same size as some of the males, like Captain Armor. That doesn’t even tell me if there’s a strength difference, or any non-obvious biological differences.

At the same time, though, that makes this exciting. Maybe there would be a surprise, a good surprise at that. Maybe this is going to turn out to be the simplest thing I have ever done. “I look forward to meeting her, Captain Armor.” The worry comes back a little when he actually chuckles at the response, and puts a hoof on my arm.

“We all say that at first.”

I really don’t want to know what that means. It’s a good thing I don’t, because two flying ponies end up showing up with a chariot. By the time I look back, the good Captain is already gone. “If you wouldn’t mind getting in, we can take you to Ponyville within half an hour.” Well, it’s a good thing I’m not afraid of heights.

Otherwise, this would be terrible.

By the end of the flight, I think I have discovered a new phobia of mine. Before the trip, I hadn’t known that I’m scared of flying. When the chariot lands, though, I can hardly stop myself. I quickly jump out, and kiss the ground.

“Oh my gosh, this is the best land that has ever been. I missed you so much.” As I do this, a couple of ponies stop and stare at me. A few of them back up, almost as if I have some sort of disease, and then most of them use a tried and true method for dealing with something strange.

Most of them seem to want to ignore me out of existence.

There is one, however, that quickly walks up to me. She’s purplish with blonde hair. If I had read more about colors in my past, I could probably have a better set of words to describe her. Her hair looks … well, it looks really unique. I can’t say I’ve ever seen anybody with that hair style. Then again, I can’t say I’ve seen that many people recently in general. All of that isn’t even mentioning the fact that all of these ponies seem to have rather unique ways of doing their hair.

It makes mine look plain by comparison.

“I take it you’re Roger.” That is a good guess, considering I’m the only human here. Everybody else is just a pony. I know better than to say any of that, though, especially the part where I refer to them as just ponies. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that she might not take too kindly to that. She holds out one of her hooves, almost as if she wants me to shake it.

That’s a normal greeting, so I do it.

“My name is Cloudkicker.”

I don’t even know what to make of that name. Maybe this is a normal name in this land, and my name is the weird one. Maybe this is a weird name and my name is the normal one. Celestia, Luna, Cadance, Shining Armor, those are the only names that I really know. That, and now I know the name Cloudkicker. With that pattern, I obviously should expect somebody to be named ‘Spike’ or ‘Dogcatcher’ or maybe even ‘Rusty Nail’.

Or maybe they’re using them to describe what they do. Shining Armor protects things, Cloudkicker kicks clouds, Cadance sings or does something musical, Luna has something to do with night … maybe she parties a lot, and Celestia does … I’ve got nothing. I don’t even know how to work with that. I know that a celestial body is a heavenly body. Maybe she’s some sort of religious figure, maybe she deals with the religion of this place.

Name problems aside, I wonder what type of pony they left me with. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ma’am.”

“Ma’am?” She fakes shock. “Do I look like a ma’am to you? A ma’am is old. Am I old?”

I really probably should not have said that. And I know, from every book that I have read, that the correct response here is to make sure she knows she doesn’t look old. Maybe I can compliment her on her appearance. That is something that all books agree that women like. They like being praised for their youth and beauty, which I can do right now.

“No, no, Cloudkicker. You don’t look old at all, you’re a beautiful young….” I don’t know the word for female horse for the life of me, or at least it isn’t coming to me instantly. I’ve read the dictionary, I should know this. “Mare.” That’s the ticket, it finally came to me. By the time that I say it, though, she’s already starting to laugh. I really hope she isn’t laughing at me.

“Oh, calm down, I just joking.” Her hoof moved to touch my chin. Her expression changed dramatically. “Though, ya know, if you think I’m beautiful…”

Oh boy, this is not the type of thing I want happening. I can’t say I’m attracted to her like that. “I… ummm… maybe we should just move on.” That feeling that people get when they’re blushing, the blood rushing to their face, that’s definitely here.

“You’re so much fun.”

I really don’t know if I like this place now.

“We’re going to get you set up with a place of your own eventually, but right now you’re going to have to stay with me.” I get the feeling that this isn’t going to end well. I don’t even know much about her, beyond the fact that she just freaked me out a little. Then she stops, and turns. “Good thing I live down on the ground. Several pegasi make cloud houses, and you wouldn’t be able to stay up there.

Yep, good thing she isn’t sending me to my death. Also, good thing I’m getting some names for these subspecies. Pegasi is short for pegasus. If I had to guess, the horned ones might be called unicorn. That only makes sense, as we seem to be going from old myths. Well, considering what I’m looking at they’re hardly myths.

She turns, looks at me, studies my clothes, and then rubs her chin. “Actually, there’s something I’m wondering about you, Roger.” She points out, toward my clothes. “Why do you wear those anyway? It isn’t some big formal event or anything.” Another piece of information about ponies that should have been obvious. Celestia wears jewelry, the guards wear armor, Cadance wears jewelry, and a few ponies seem to be wearing a few things. Overall, though, they’re all naked by my perspective.

A nudist group overall. I really need to make sure I don’t offend her, though. She’s the one making the decision as to whether or not I’m safe. “No real reason.” I start to remove my shirt as we move, earning me a few stares as we continue to the house that I’m going to be staying at.

“So, you’ve probably got a lot of questions. I’m sure I can answer a few of them while we get back to my place.”

There are a lot of questions. We could spend days talking about society, the differences between the species, how they come up with names, but there is something that comes to mind. I swear, I am not looking at her butt for any reason beyond the fact that I think I see a picture. In fact, I do see a picture. That means she got a butt tattoo. This is the first one I have noticed, so it bears asking about.

“So … not to sound rude, but is there a reason why you have a tattoo on your butt?”

I can tell that she’s having a hard time not laughing. “Take a look around, you’ll see a lot more of them.” I listen, and she’s right. Every single pony around, or at least most of them, have the same tattoos on their butts. “Those are called cutie marks. They show us what we’re good at.” That tells me so much, and at the same time it tells me nothing.

“So you’re good at… covering the sun with clouds?”

“Well, it’s rarely cut and dry like that. Some of them are, but a lot of us have to look into their meaning a little deeper.” At this point, I’m carrying my shoes and socks. It isn’t easy to walk and remove your shoes, it really isn’t. “See something you like while you were checking out my flanks?” Yes, another word is now a part of my new vocabulary. I also have no clue how to respond to that last part.

“So when you figure out what you’re good at, you get a tattoo?”

“Nah, they just show up.”

This culture, and this species, intrigues me. They rely on magic for everything, even telling them what they’re good at. That’s such a new concept to me. It would make everything a lot easier if one day something shows up on a person’s rear end that tells them what they’re good at. It certainly would cut down on people feeling like they have nothing going for them.

And by now, my pants are being held along with what remains of my underwear.

I probably should not have ripped off my underwear, I might need them later.

When we get to the house, she looks back at me. I’m holding all of my clothes, even my torn underwear, with a bag on my back. This definitely isn’t my finest moment, but it does earn me what can only be described as a look of shock. “Wow, you’re pretty good at that whole… taking your clothes off thing. I didn’t even notice that you were doing it, and we didn’t slow down at all.”

It is about this time that she shoves me quickly into the house. I stumble, trip, and drop everything onto the floor. I really need to ask her why she did that when she gets inside, if she even does. I stand back up, my clothes can stay there for now, and I head over to a window. She’s outside talking with a pink pony, who has pink hair. Eventually, the new arrival is given a direction and bounces away.

That doesn’t seem like a good way of moving at all.

As soon as she gets into the house, she holds up a hoof. “Sorry about that, Roger. I just … I didn’t expect for her to show up so soon. But I sent her off to go find you at Sweet Apple Acres, so she’s going to be looking for a while. Good thing she didn’t actually see you.” I worry to ask why, but some questions just need to be asked.

“Why would it be so bad if she found me?”

“Way too soon.” That doesn’t tell me anything. “She would insist on throwing you some sort of party, tonight. I have to figure out how the others would react to a strange hairless monkey going around.” I’m starting to really dislike that term. I have hair, a full head of hair, arm hair, and other hair. “Besides, we have some things we have to sort out before you go anywhere.” Her hoof moves to point at my clothes. “You better pick up after yourself, I’m not your mom.”

I wonder if that’s it.

“And I figured I could get to know you a little better…” I really hope she doesn’t mean in any perverted way. The type of comments she’s been making recently has me worrying a little. “But first, to show you the guest room.”

“Sure thing, to all three.” I move over, pick up the clothes. She leads, I follow, and eventually we’re in a rather sparse looking room. It has a bed, a window, a table, and that’s it. Apparently, she doesn’t entertain guests often, or maybe she’s just not the type to splurge. I don’t know enough about her to judge either way. When I sit my clothes on the table, I look over to the bed. It looks comfortable enough, if a little small. “Lucky thing I curl up at night.”

It seems that everything I say earns a laugh from a pony.

“Yep, I think they have bigger beds. Might try to get you one eventually.”

“So, you have questions about me?”

That seems to be something that earns a giant grin. “Oh boy, do I. Let’s start with the basic, Roger, and tell me what you like to do.”

“I do a lot of reading, building, and reading.” She looks like the idea itself bores her, so I continue. “Where I come from, there isn’t a lot to do.”

“Ever tried banging?”

Instantly, I feel incredibly uncomfortable. “No, I can’t say I have.”

“Wanna bang?”

Another thing I don’t know how to respond to. “I really don’t know how I feel about … well, you’re ponies, I’m a hairless mon- human, I am a human.”

“If ya don’t know, maybe you should try it sometime.”

I do like trying new things. No, no, this is not the type of thing that you just try. This is one of those things that happen certain times between certain people. I just have to tell her no and call it good. She will probably understand completely. I open my mouth, but the words don’t come. I clear my throat, open my mouth again, but the wrong words come out. “Maybe eventually.”

Am I hearing myself correctly? Did I just say eventually? I really need to figure out a way to make my mouth say what I want it to.

That seems to placate her for now. “So, why are you so … hairless? Did you get it all cut off, aside from a few places?”

That is actually a decent question, aside from maybe the wording. “Well, I think we just sort of … grew out of having hair. By the time that I was born, this is all we had. Evolution at its finest.” That earns a nod from her, which means they at least know something about evolution. That makes sense, they might have evolved from horses that existed back during my time.

“And you called yourself a human.” I nod. “You don’t look anything like those pictures that Lyra has. Open your mouth.” As I do, she looks. “Some sharp teeth, but not all of them. And that’s not even going on the fact that you don’t sparkle in the sunlight. And you have a lot more color than those pictures, a lot more pink-colored. Not as pink as Pinkie Pie, mind you, but definitely pink-ish.”

I wonder who this Pinkie Pie is. The only one I have seen that is pink is the one that had been outside looking for me.

~ A few hours~

I am surprised she asked so many questions. She wanted to know about hands, and why my feet have toes. She wanted to know how I walk so easily on two feet. A couple of the questions seemed a little odd. One of them was about if I am a dad, another about being in a relationship, and she even asked about why my nose is so small. I’m still glad I didn’t point out that their noses are the ones that seem large to me, instead of mine being small.

I look out of the window, the smell of food starting to waft into the room. Maybe this means that whatever she’s cooking, she’s done with. It smells like tomatoes, which is good because I like tomatoes. They go good on a hamburger, though I don’t smell that. I don’t even know if ponies eat meat, which would definitely be a downer if it turns out that they don’t.

Cloudkicker walks in, a smirk on her face. “I made some tomato soup, it’s delicious. Come get some while it’s hot.”

That sounds really good.

As soon as I get a bowl and sit down, she looks at me. “I never really asked you what you eat. I hope you like it, this is the first time I’ve cooked in a while.” I look down at the soup, and then take a bite.

This is delicious.

“I can eat just about any type of food, really. No allergies, not picky.”

“But what do humans typically eat.” That is quite the nice question. I would expect that she would just make whatever she likes and that she’ll just call it a day. It isn’t like I have any choice in food. If I don’t like what she cooks, I just don’t eat. Or maybe she is just one of those types of people … errr … ponies that wants to make their guests feel like guests. Then again, I’m hardly a guest. I’m a person who she is watching because she has to.

She just happens to be a lot nice than I had thought my watcher would be.

“Humans, and thank you for not calling me hairless monkey, can eat just about anything. Some people don’t eat meat, some people do, and some people even eat bugs.” It’s the mention of bugs that gets a change of expression.

“I’ve heard of ponies eating meat before, but bugs? Ewww.”

“Agreed.” I take another bite. “This stuff is really good, what did you put in it?”

“Tomatoes, obviously, and the rest if a family secret.”

That’s no fun.

The rest of the meal goes by with fairly few questions. It seems like she enjoys her own cooking as much as I do. Actually, it seems she enjoys her own cooking even more than I do. I have about a quarter of my bowl left when she’s done with hers. It’s only when the meal ends, and by that I mean that I finish my bowl, that she stands up. When I look up to her, she asks me a question. “Do you need anything before I head out?”

I’m not sure what she means by either of those things. I don’t know what I would need, and I am curious about where she’s going. I might as well ask before she leaves. “Where ya heading?”

“Sun’s Flank is a nice little bar, I might not be back until tomorrow.” I don’t think I want to know what she’s going to be doing at the bar that isn’t drinking.

“Nope, I have everything I need. Probably going to get some sleep… today’s been interesting to say the least.” I also need to put some information down, get that out of the way.

With a nod, she walks out. As a guest, I wash the dishes before I head to my current bedroom. I get out my journal and a pen, then sit down on the bed. I don’t plan on putting too much detail into some of these things.

Land of Equestria
-Ran by ponies that have all horns and wings
-Possibly a monarchy
-Cities of Canterlot and Ponyville show a weird naming scheme.

Unicorns
-Magic using
-have horns

Normal ponies
-No known data

Pegasi
-Flight with wings, though their body mass shouldn’t allow it
-Can sit, lay, stand on clouds… haven’t confirmed, just going by what Cloudkicker has said

Naming schemes
-Ponies are named based on… I have no idea. It seems as though they go for blunt descriptions sometimes
-Cities are named for pony related things

Celestia
-Princess
-Biggest of them all
-Possibly leader of the country’s religion
-Flowing hair, multi colored
-White

Luna
-Possibly leader of night-time things
-Probably has horns and wings
-Unknown if her hair is like Celestia’s

Cadance
-Pink
-Princess without flowing hair, also multi colored

Shining Armor
-White with blue hair
-Captain of the Guard

Cloudkicker
-Purplish with yellow hair
-Sex-crazed

General pony characteristics
-Mark shows up at some point to show what they’re good at. More data is required about this phenomenon.
-Trusting, they take me at my word

That is all I can think of at this point, so I put it back in my bag and lay down. Maybe it’s something about the day, but sleep comes pretty easy.