Chapters Arrival: Victorian Progress
Gathering Data...
Opening Log...
Audio Log #1, Date [Error_finding_date]
Day 1, log of what I hope will be very few. You know how in stories, there always seems to be some sort of flashy transition, or a mind-boggling event, or something, you know, BIG to let you know that, “Hey, your life just got turned upside down. Hooray!” Well, that doesn’t happen. A rumble, yes, and a faint feeling of distortion perhaps, but nothing worse then what you get from standing up too fast.
And so here I am, dictating this message to my computer, in hopes that someday, I can listen to this recording and show people that some weird shit happened. I want to show others that no, I am not in fact crazy. Furthermore, you can shut up now because I don’t speak to voices in my head! Lastly, for Science, because Science is Science and all hail progress.
My name is Rylee Grese, and I seemed to have landed on an alien world.
Aaaand now that I finally got out the dramatics, time to get down to the nitty-gritty and actually explain what is going on now, shall I? For posterity's sake, I intend on making this a well-composed log, so what actually happened can be followed without too much undue confusion. But I apologize in advance for my lack of cohesion and my tendency to burst into dramatics, as shown above. Because, despite my best efforts, I am still a teenager. And damn if that doesn’t suck.
ANYWAY. INFORMATION. This morning started out remarkably average, with no outstanding characteristics or weird events. According to my computer, the temperature was 46 degrees Fahrenheit, with a barometric pressure of 30.08 inches and a average wind speed of two mph. So, in other words, an average fall day. No weird clouds, no inexplicable phenomena that screamed, “Hey! Tell your family you love them, cause, maaaaaaan, your ass is gonna be gone in about 5 hours.” Which makes sense, I guess? I really don't know. I'm not really an expert of interplanetary travel. Or maybe time travel. Or universal? I'm kinda shady on exactly what the fuck actually is happening. I guess time travel is the least likely, as backwards time travel is outside a modern understanding of the laws of physics... Boy aren't tangents fun?
(A slapping sound is heard in the background, along with a intake of breath.) Okay, I really needed that. Okay, where was I? Hmm.... Oh yeah, before the transfer of whateverthefuck. So, I woke up at my normal time of about 10:00, and walked downstairs, and did..normal early morning things. Do you really think it's necessary to describe to posterity the manner in which I slurped down cereal? And why am I asking you, computer? Though, considering all the messed up shit that has been going on today, expecting you to answer wouldn't be that anyway, I mean, if I get transferred to what appears to be a feudal-era world, then wh- STAY ON TRACK, RYLEE!!.
Sorry, its been a long day. Back to where I was. Okay. Words. Things. Goddamn I'm tired. It's like, what, 11 o'clock? With the amount of running I did today, I should probably just finish this log and go to bed. But I still need to science. Because science.
OKAY. Time to talk about relevant stuff. So, after breakfast and the necessary actions performed after one wakes up, such as feeding my three cats and making sure that Gi-Gi didn’t barf on anything important, I hiked aaaaaaall the way back upstairs to my room and started scheming on how to kill my newborn son so that my daughter would get claims to both the Holy Roman Empire and the Empire of Britannia. Ahh, Crusader Kings II. How I am going to miss you so. And during the English rebellion because of said assasination, my dad thought it would be a great time to call. Because the universe loves screwing with me. As shown by my current predicament.
You know how some people have famous songs or other such tripe for their ring-tones? I don't. You wanna know why? Because phones RING, damnit! Not buzz, or start yodeling out Bieber's latest crap-on-a-biscuit, they ring! They fucking ring! (Another slap is heard in the background.) I am absolute shit at staying on target. Back to business.
So my dad called, from his car. On his way to Atlantic City. With my Mum. Because, hey, honeymoons are meant to be spent away from annoyingly yappy children. I answered my phone, to the sound of my dad muttering, “Wait for it....wait for it...”
“Yo Dad? You there?” Of course I knew he was there! I heard him, for Christ's sake! I was hoping he didn’t mean to call me because the English needed a good murdering.
“DAD! HEL-” I was going to finish, if a ship’s horn hadn’t gone off and nearly blown out my freakin eardrums!
The sound of my dad laughing could be clearly heard on the other side of the line. “For fuck's sake, Father! That's not cool!”
“Yes it is!” My dad responded. “Have you fed the cats yet? Honestly, I'm just surprised you're awake. That was what the foghorn was supposed to be for.”
“WHAT?” I responded. Hey, payback is a bitch.
“I SAID, ARE THE CATS FED?” My ears were not ready. They never are. Never, never are.
“Yep. Do you think Indy would let me sleep if I hadn't? He would probably be gnawing on my hair right now if I didn't feed him. And Flash would probably be petting my face. Again.”
“Well, make sure Gi-Gi doesn't throw up in my library. And make sure you get Scott up! He needs to take the cats to the vet.” My dad is fond of redundancy, as well as being habitually aggravating. On my phone were already three messages from him saying the exact same thing, each poorly written and with terrible spelling.
“Aye, I already got him up. He's downstairs making sure Gi-Gi feels up to riding in a car for thirty minutes. As well as trying to find Flash.”
“Make sure he gets all of them. We don’t want them sick, do we?”
“No sir.” I responded to my dad. My dad can do this... thing where he immediately casts authority onto himself, no matter how inane he was being beforehand. I'm used to it by now, so I don't have to worry about stuttering for about a good ten seconds as he waits for me to respond. I've seen people do that. It's really funny. Their mouth seized up, and they get this blank look on their face. It looks almost like you interrupted a cow while it was chewing grass. Priceless.
“Glad I am understood,” my dad said, and then he just hung up. He does that too.
“Yo Scott! You got em?” I called down the steps.
“Can you get your own damn cat, Rylee? I'm sick of his shit!” He yelled back up.
“Gerdermfrekinpieceofshat” I muttered to myself as I saved and closed my game. The English would have to wait.
Okay, a few words about my brother. And if you are listening some time in the future, Hey Scott! I swear this actually happened and I am not crazy! Really! My brother is the athlete of the family, while I am more of a nerd. Or a lot more. But whatever. What matters it the fact that we have been said to look alot alike. I mean, I may run a bit for fun, but damn my brother takes exercise to a new level. Everyday, he is working out, and doing a LOT of it. But, much to his chagrin, he still doesn't have a ridiculously sculpted body. Just a really slick one. I mean, his abs are just like...damn. And his arms and his legs... double damn. The fact that I get compared to that? Amazing.
I'm tempted to describe him with phrases like, “shimmering brown hair” and “Toned long legs” but I feel like I've already given him enough fanboy praise. And also, hes only 6 foot 1 while I am six foot 3. Hah! How does that feel! You're better in almost every single physical activity, but I'm taller! And yes, that is a point of pride for me. I love being tall.
So yeah, that's my bro. We both loaded the various cats into the car, including my wall-eyed Indy, and he drove them solitary to the vet. Why? Because I had Englishmen to kill, that's why!
You know that feeling that you sometimes get, when you start wasting your life on the internet and then realize what only seems like minutes later that an hour has passed? That really sucks, doesn’t it? Yeah, that happened to me. I only snapped out of it when I realized that my brother was probably going to come home soon, with our dear, drugged up cats with him.
I hastily ran down the stairs and yoinked an apple from the dish of them on the counter. I really didn't want to be there when Scott got home, because the cats usually are not happy when they get back from the vet. At all.
At this point, I need to describe my room. Trust me, it's necessary. As you walk through the door, the only thing you can see in my room is my queen bed, with a mirror hanging over the door. MY mum put that up, but I use it to see who is coming up the stairs. Because being surprised is really no fun. You can't see left in my room from the mail loft upstairs because there is this really badly placed wall as you enter. It's the side wall of my closet, but it always seems misplaced to me. Anyway, as you enter, you ca(A large yawn cuts him off)I am way too tired for this. Just.. to the left is my computer, sitting in front of a window that looks directly at the side of a neighboring house. Okay? Okay.
Remember that feeling of disorientation that I talked about earlier? Did I say that earlier? Well, there was one. A small one, as I was taking my steps two at a time. It was large enough to throw me off balance, and I almost fell and hit my head on the stairs. And let me tell you, that would have been a very undignified end. Can you imagine? Whoever lives on this..planet? Maybe? World would probably work. They come across this house in the middle of a field, and when they come in, they just see me sprawled on the steps, my head bleeding where I cracked it falling. That would be kinda morbidly funny. My tombstone would only read, “Tripped and died, the idiot.” Ahhh.
Back to science! BACK DAMN YOU! So I almost tripped and brained myself, but I recovered due to my friend the banister. And I still had the apple! Yay!
And this is the point my room becomes important, and most specifically, the window. I said it usually looks at a building, and I meant it. But now? Nah. Now it looks on a really, really big plain. So much grass... It's scary.
And yes, I did freak out. Running around the house, running around the plain trying to find anything I knew. I mean, there are landmarks and such. A really big river runs right behind the new location of my house, and there are hills in almost every direction, so at least I can't be seen by someone, or something, unless I can easily see them. Unless they come from the direction that my window now faces. Which I think is east? The sun set in the opposite direction of my window, so I think it is east. But, I have no idea where I am. So I'm going to assume east. But I could be wrong. Goddamn I am too tired to do this. I might as well just go to sle-NO! SCIENCE!
The biggest event that happened next, beside my freaking out, is the discovery of a nearby settlement. Normally, I would be there and screw this audiolog, but something warned me that barging into a hamlet after an event that had just occurred to me would probably not be smart. It was probably common sense. I'm not used to its presence, so I was a faint bit shocked.
As EDI would say, “That was a joke.”
Unless I am completely mistaken, which is entirely possible since I was viewing a dormant village under the light of the moon, the town appeared to be pre-industrial. There were no signs of any sort of mass-produced building materials on the outside. Everything appeared to be made by hand, with thatched roofs and everything! It looked almost... too perfect. While quaint, everything had an air of charm that I can't put my finger on. Kinda like a disney-esque village. Quaint, but idyll. The type of place you would take your kids to show them medieval life. But, there might be wonders of technology inside those thatched houses, and I wouldn’t know. So no snap judgments.
Have I mentioned that my house came with me? It's...I don't... Everything seems intact, and somehow, there is still running water, I think. I am still able to flush toilets, at the least, and it seems to work fine. Water and various leaves, water comes back in the bowl. Magic. And yeah, I checked the piping. The sewer pipe is still there, unconnected, with no waste at the end of it, despite its...use. So that's a plus. I wonder, did my house leave where I came from? Or is this where my house always was, and I was just transported into the future, Fuck this, I'm too tired for speculation. I'm going to sleep, I'm going to ignore all of this, go to sleep, and hope its all fixed in the morning. When I wake up, I want Indy to be there, nibbling on my hair, and I want this all to be a dream of some kind.
I miss Indy.
[Connection Terminated]
[Recording Saved]
[Signing Out...]
Arrival: Victorian Progress
5:07 LT
Captain Stalwart to Chief Scribe Short Hoof and Collegiate Mana Reserve
Has there ever been a Response 63 before? What magnitude of power is necessary to cause Her Royal Highness to issue one? I demand a report from the Academy informing us Guards of what level of magic we should be expecting, and any defences we could set up. If practical, I demand that any appropriate countermeasures to make sure the neighboring towns to be made safe. We don’t know what is going on, so precautions must be made. As well, from the Scribes, I need any and all information pertaining to past Response 63’s. The nature of those issued, when they were issued, how long it was sustained, and any relevant historical information. We need to know of any military actions needed to combat any threat that presents itself.
5:27 L.T.
Collegiate Mana Reserve to Captain Stalwart Bulwark
The Magnitude of power required is approximately in the order of 7 Starswirls. Considering the Princess ranks in at 9, the power is not negligible. The power readings here at the Observatory clocked around 7.9245923. Considering the logarithmic nature of the scale, that is almost ten times the value of a 7. In case you don't know what log scales are. In this case, I would say the Princess was entirely justified in issuing Response 63. Though I do not believe she needed to abscond with one of the Arch-Magi.
If you send over the Guards that you want protected, the other Arch-Magi and I can protect them with the highest protection spells we can cast to make sure no harm comes to them. I might not like you personally, sir, but we do not need to put any other pony’s life in harms way for the sake of our own personal squabble. Your mares should be protected from any form of contact, be it pony or not. Nothing, thaumic or corporeal, should be able to make physical contact, excepting any authorised equipment, such as armor or any form of chariot. We can cast an exemptionary spell on any such equipment you desire, in you let us know. Ley Line will not be included in the casting, but she will have the knowledge of the triggers necessary to alter the spells, if needed. I don't want to strand good, faithful ponies in a situation where they need the spell removed. Whatever the case may be.
And yes, they can still touch the ground. I know you were going to ask that. That is a stupid enough question that you would think it, and maybe even speak it. And I would like to politefully ask that in the future, you not order the College to do something for you. While the princess ordered us to cooperate, that does not mean you operate the entire endeavor. While I may cooperate with you, you have no power here. I do not have to do as you command. If you ask, I might help you. Otherwise?
No
6:03 L.T.
Chief Scribe Short Hoof to Captain Stalwart Bulwark
I would like to open this missive with the reminder that by Article 7 of the Equestrian Charter, the military has no jurisdiction over the civilian government. A friendly reminder.
If not for the current Response situation, to access the information you have requested, I would have had to send you reams of paperwork. Thank Celestia for that not having to have happen.
Previously, there have been four Response 63’s issued. The first was issued in response to Discord. While this might not be an equivalent threat, with Discord ranking a 11.5 Starswirls, this does put the situation into a bit of perspective. The second seems to have occurred around 800 years ago, due to a redacted situation. I have sent a letter to the Princess asking for any information relevant to the current Response, so if any information is unearthed, I will pass it on. The only choice bits of information I have been able to find is that the magnitude of power given was exactly a nine. As well, the Princess readied all branches of government but refused to let any of them help her. All Guards were tasked to the “Civilian Defence” and nothing else. Thirdly was the Draconic-Griffin War. The fourth is a mystery. A spike in readings, up to a 9 exactly, but no more. Princess Celestia called a Response 63, but it says in the Archives that she said, “There is no need for any preventative measures, besides defense from roaming power parasites.” It was reported as well that the sun shone brighter that week then it ever has, before or since.
Two wars, an undiscovered event, and a happy Princess. If I were in your position, and thank Celestia’s left flank I’m not, I would ready the Guard for combat. Odds are this is not a good sign.
7:04 L.T.
Collegiate Mana Reserve to Chief Scribe Short Hoof
That freaking mule! Ordering us around, like she has control over us! By Celestia, that mare should be fired. If not for the chaos that this response will likely cause, I would have her tried for infringement of the Charter. As much as I hate to admit it, that mare, nay, that goat, gets her job done with great skill.
Have you discovered, in your ordered search, did you run across any spells or countermeasures used to combat or halt any infringement against the populace? If I am expected to halt any malignant approaches, I would like to know of any past spells. Sometimes, things like that are not stored at the Collegiate, so that greedy students cannot get their hooves on the information. While I could probably find the information in the Hidden Library, I don’t see a need to when you might have the information already. Thank you for taking your time away from the strenuous job of paperwork and helping me. It means a lot.
7:10 L.T.
Chief Scribe Short Hoof to Collegiate Mana Reserve
I was unsure of which type of spell you wanted, so I went and collected the most powerful offensive and defensive spells I could find. I'll send over an entire list on the morrow, but until then, here are the most powerful of each type.
Offensive: Stella Percusserit. The details of casting this will be included in the full report, but be warned; this spell takes either two Magi to perform in concert, or Princess Celestia. In effect, it draws down “The wrath of the forgotten one” according to the text. Apparently, this was the Spell used by Collegiate Arcana to end the Draconic-Griffin War. If you want to see its after effects, I would visit Starlit Bay.
Defensive: Solaris Chlamyde: Again, details included in the full report. I found this one in the reports of the second Response 63, when Princess Celestia covered the entire city in a defensive shield to protect against any outside invaders. The colour of the shield changes depending on the caster and the urgency of the need. Another thing about this spell is it gets stronger the brighter it is out. So midday is when it is strongest, and midnight is when it is weakest. Fair warning.
Off the record: Yes, I know she can be a mule. But do please try to cooperate in some degree. Don’t let old wounds fester to the detriment of the rest of Equestria. Let it heal for now.
7:12 L.T.
Collegiate Mana Reserve to Chief Scribe Short Hoof
Thank you for the information. I look forward to receiving the packet, and I will have the Council, including myself, analyze the spells given and try to extract the best for any given scenario. If used these spells could save lives.
Certain wounds can never heal.
Arrival: Victorian Progress
Gathering Data...
Opening Log...
Audio Log #2, Date [MANUALLY INSERTED] {Day 2}
Time 7:59 PM
So. I’m still here. Apparently, this wasn't all just a paranoid delusion created by a sleep-addled mind when one desired a moment of solitude away from the scheming of English Kings. But I might be in a coma. Or insane. At this point, however, I don't think it matters. I would have been caught talking to myself last night about being transported to a WHOLE NEW WORLD *Quiet chuckling* and off to the loony bin I go! Whee! And if I’m in a coma? There’s nothing I can do now. So I’m going to act like this is real. Hopefully. If I go into paranoid fits...Hoo boy. That would suck. Especially if I do so in front of the natives.
Speaking of the natives, I decided to do a reconnaissance mission on the nearby...hamlet I think is the correct word. Village? Burgh? Hell I don’t know. The nearby collection of buildings that contains living organisms. That works. Or not.
BACK ON TARGET. Okay. Oooookay. I set my alarm last night for 7:30 in a fit of tired masochism. Well, that might have been beneficial, but I'll be damned if I admit that to anything other than a soulless computer screen where odds are that nobody important will ever hear it or see it. But if someone is listening to this...HI! I SWEAR I'M NOT CRAZY. I'VE BEEN TO A PSYCHIATRIST AND EVERYTHING!
Calm down Rylee...calm. Deep breaths... Okay, thats better. So. At 7:30, I got up, took a shower, ate. Ya know, standard morning stuff. Here next to me are two notes I wrote myself, so I might as well read them off so that this log is accurate. “There are only 10 eggs left! Ration them idiot!” is the first. Yeah. I yell at myself a lot. The second says “Sun rise, 8:00 EXACTLY.” That'll be useful to determine what season it is. Right now, out my window, it looks like it is either Spring or Fall. Not sure which. It felt like either when I went outside on my scouting mission, but I’m not sure.
*Faint chimes are heard in the background*
What. The. Actual. Fuck. That, which you may have heard, was my grandfather clock which is currently located downstairs next to the front door. It just chimed eight P.M. As well, just as it did that, the sun set. And I don't mean around abouts. As soon as that motherfucking clock hit eight, the Sun went, “Fuck this! Providing life-giving light is hard!” and slipped below the horizon. If I “landed” here, for lack of a better term, on an equinox, that would be a bit freaky. Maybe equinox's here are weird. It would fit with the overabundance of freaky in EVERYTHING GODDAMN ELSE!
To qualify that statement, let me just speak a bit about what I saw in the neighboring... fuck it, I’m sticking with hamlet. Its more fun to say, and it reminds me of poofy wigs and copious murder.
To begin with, yes, everything does look like a graphic artist tried to design the perfect pre-industrial village, and succeeded in doing so. Everything is so...cute. Every roof is thatched perfectly, every windowsill has a basket of flowers. I swear I heard the birds even singing in freaking harmonies. Just...thats kinda creepy. Or really creepy. Imagine your just walking along one day, and you ran into the perfect town. Lovely neighbors, no crime. A mom,a dad, one son, one daughter, one dog, in every house. and every house had a little white picket fence and everyone loved each other and nothing was wrong. Sure, that may sound great. But your first thought upon entering that town might be of how great this place is. But eventually? You start thinking about mind control of some sort, cause there is no way in Hell people would ever act like that.
Yeah, I was a bit freaked out at first. Because of that, I decided, at the time, that the best idea was not to walk into town and knock on doors. I decided instead to camp on a nearby hill and just observe. With my binoculars. Okay, maybe I did pay creepy with creepy. But goddamn if I wasn't rewarded for doing so.
I got there about, oh, 20 minutes after sunrise. Luckily for me, there was almost no movement. I could see some action though the glass windows of houses, but being pre-industrial, the glass was all bubbly and unclear, so I really couldn't make anything out. I probably should have noticed how low the houses were, but I was really tired. That is probably the same reason I didn't bring any sort of writing instrument.
Some general notes on the population. There seems to be some sort of monetary system in place. Through what I could see, there was absolutely no bartering, and occasionally there was a tell-tale glint of gold among the transactions taking place in the street between merchants. Does this mean that gold is as heavily valued here as gold was back home? If so, I’m shit out of luck. I got none on me, and I don't recall my dad stashing any away, like he did non-perishables, water, guns, and ammo. Yeah. My dad’s that sort of person. Though he did organize most of it after 9/11, and after that...it really hasn't moved.
As well, due to the average time spent by the inhabitants at different stands, I can make a rough guess that prices aren't set. Frequently, I could hear a set of voices rise over the usual cacophony that a mercantile area produces. Thusly, I can make a very rough estimate that haggling is still alive and well here. Which I guess fits, since pre-Industrial and everything.
But, I might have to rethink that pre-Industrial bit. I saw some manufactured goods, which didn't look like they came from any local blacksmith or the like. I didn't even see any sort of blacksmith. Or not one that I recognized.
That bit might be because there are no humans in this town. They are all TALKING. FUCKING. HORSES.
Yup. I swear, I’m not crazy! Hear me out! Please! They evidently had some sort of civilisation, as evidenced by houses and money and the like. They are smart, from what I can tell. But, what I’m wondering is, how the hell did they thatch those roofs? It’s really bugging me! I mean, hooves! How do you put dry vegetation on houses with hooves? HOW DO YOU MAKE ANYTHING WITH HOOVES? HOW DOES THAT WORK? WE HAVE THUMBS FOR A REASON! I MEAN, WE CAN MANIPULATE THINGS WITH THUMBS, BUT HOW CAN you can you do so with hooves? and money? how doe...
*Loud gasp*
Goddamn I really need to stop doing that. Breathing is important too. But thatch? Would they just eat it? I mean they are FUCKING HORSES! THEY EAT GRA- FUCKING STOP YELLING RYLEE GODDAMNIT.
Calm. I'm calm. Very calm. Very very calm. Irrational things don't make you mad. Not at all. Nope. Nope. Nope.
I'm good now. Really. Not crazy! See? All better! Back to topics!
The inhabitants are horses. Talking. Horses. *Loud Thud* Damnit Grese stop shuddering every time you say that. Get used to it. You’re here now. On initial analysis, there appears to be three separate types of horse. Due to lack of any concrete evidence, I can't pinpoint any obvious difference between the three, beside the blindingly obvious. So I will take the duty, as a humble researcher, to catalog the differences between the three, and any similarities.
First off, every single goddamn one of them is some pastel colour. No exceptions. I have seen every different colour of horse. Occasionally, even multicoloured ones. The majority of coats and manes seemed to be different colours, with no uniformity. I could not tell by early analysis whether there were any family similarities. I mean, I’m good, but I’m not that damn good. I can't go, “Okay, those two are married, and they had that little ball of fluff as a kid.” Would children be referred to as kids? Or what? fillies? Mini-horses? Ponies? I'm calling them kids. Screw the rules, I have no money.
Additionally, the majority of them have tattoos displayed prominently on their asses. No, they don't own donkeys. On their sides, there are tattoos. Except for some. I wonder why that is? Maybe its some sort of indoctrination thing? I don't goddamn know, and I’m making no guesses when I could be wildly wrong. Speaking of which, there seemed to be a decided lack of clothing. An occasional straw hat, sure, but not much else. It seems kinda weird from a human point of view, but then again, it would seem weird to see horses wearing clothes. Maybe they're not cultured enough for clothes? No assumptions, but it seems kinda weird. What stopping a random bystander from spotting anything that shouldn't really be seen in public? Apparently, nothing.
And now for the big differences. Firstly, a bit of a basis. There are three different types. Did I mention that already? I don't remember. Just including this just in case I didn't. And yeah, these are all just early generalizations, so everything said after this statement is liable to change. And anything before it as well, I suppose.
First comes the common horse. Nothing all too interesting. Standard fare. They are built like horses. Four legs, tail, the works. Did I mention that every single one of these horses, not just the common type, are shorter than the horses that are back on Earth? And their heads are weird. Like, their eyes are HUGE. Staring-into-your-soul-and-finding-all-your-deepest-secrets huge. How is their any space for a brain if so much of their heads is filled by two huge eyes? but back to the common type. Yeah. Pretty much nothing else startling.
The second type is where shit starts getting a bit freaky. I'm starting with these because they at least make a bit of sense from an evolutionary standpoint. I have come to call this type “Unicorns” for an obvious reasons. They are horses. With horns. Jutting out of the front of their heads. So no shit I'm going to call them unicorns.
The same applies for the next. Freaking. Winged. Horses. No shit Im going to call them pegasuses. Pegasi? Maybe? I mean, Pegasus was a name. Of a horse. This place, man. Its still like, what the fuck. Honestly, what the fuck.
Am I crazy? I mean, shit, I'm sitting here, talking about mythological creatures to my computer. I wouldn't be surprised if i was actually sitting in a nice comfortable padded cell somewhere. If I ever see another mythological creature, I will slap myself. Hard. In the face.
Another side note about their culture. They seem to have some form of military, as per my observations. What prompted my departure from Creepy-as-fuck-ville was the arrival of 4 horses in a carriage. Not a horse drawn car-wait fuck yes it was, but not like, on the ground. It flew. HOW THE HELL IS THAT POSSIBLE! THEIR WINGS ARE A QUARTER OF THE SIZE OF THEIR BODIES ILLOGICAL FUCKING TRIPE!
But it happened. It happened. Two flew in, carrying another two in a sky-carriage. Two unicorns and two winged horses. The first unicorn was brown. Dirt freaking brown. I almost missed it, and I probably would have if it didn't step out of the sky-carriage.
The other unicorn was pink. Hot Pink. I hope, for its own sake, that its a girl. Otherwise, that dude got railed on when it was in school. Do they even have schools? Or genders? I think so, but assumptions really cannot be made at this point.
The pegasuseseses *hehe* were both exactly the same. Same height, same shade of white, same freaking everything. While the other two could be passed off as something else, there is no way in Hell that those two are anything other than military. Armor plating, helms, the whole nine yards. They looked so Greek it wasn't even funny. Give them a spear and a shield and they would look like perfect Horse Hoplites. Which is kinda gory, considering spears are mainly used against cavalry. Just...ow. Its like inventing something that perfectly disembowels a human. Or making the perfect nut-kicking robot. Ow. Owowowowow. That hurts to just think about.
Anyway, they landed in the town, and I could tell they meant business. They touched down, and were all but swarmed by their fellow equines. And yay big words! The swarm, however, quickly seemed to organize itself, as the pink unicorn’s horn lit up. The townshorses, holy crap does that sound just so WRONG, quickly got into a single file line, and each one of them lit up, one by one, in the same colour as the light emitting from the pink unicorns horn. I think it was purple. Or red. I really wasn't paying attention to colour at a time like that.
Let me tell you, I was scared shitless. Still am. What the hell was that anyway? Its some Twilight-Zone level shit right there. Two of the other horses, the other unicorn and one of the soldiers, went around and started to knock on doors with their hooves. But I really wasn't paying attention to them. I had more pressing concerns in the glowy doomlight.
Yeah, I ran. More accurately, I waited for them to all look away, then I crawled of my grassy knoll until I was more then out of sight. Then, and only then, did I stand up and freaking BOLT home.
And now, I just finished setting up a motion-sensor sound system. If something moves in this house, I’ll know. And I'll be recording everything that is said. Here’s hoping I can understand whatever they speak. Heh. Please let me know Horse. Please.
I can set up a motion sensor system. I did already have a defence system in my house, with motion sensing and everything. I just had to wire my mics to the system to record at the same time movement is detected. I also got rid of the annoying freaking beeping that happens every time you open a door. I think. I'm a novice, not a pro. I think its fixed now. At least it did on experimentation. I don't want anything entering the house to know it’s being monitored. Not yet at least.
So thats what mainly happened today. Lets hope shit does not skyrocket towards the fan. I mean, shit is heading airborne, and it will eventually hit some sort of fan-shaped object, but lets hope that happens in such a way that I can clean up said shit. And wow that was a tortured metaphor. I put that fucker on a rack and stretched it out like freaking Procrustes.
Goodnight me, and whoever else is crazy enough or unlucky enough to find this tape. I’m going to go set up some stuff I don’t want on record. I might go to sleep sometime tonight. No promises about that. Good night!
[Connection Terminated]
[Recording Saved]
[Signing Out...]
Arrival: Victorian Progress
Field Report: 17 Laundum
Guardsmare Stone Wall
Guardsmare Shimmering Steel and I have just finished informing the townsfolk of the Response. As per the criteria set by command, we have surveyed the town for any signs of foreign or malignant physical presences. While I cannot report for the arcane matters, nothing of any note was found in any house. Everything in the village was well within expected deviations. A small survey of the immediate countryside shows an odd set of tracks. While an obvious attempt was made to conceal the owner of said tracks, the path itself is easily visible. In case of hostilities, we will wait for nightfall and follow the trail.
Guardsmare Shimmering Steel
As an addendum to Stone Wall’s missive, I did a bit of preliminary work on the trail. It leads out further into the Gap, which is worrisome on its own. If this Response was caused by the Preußen Confederation... such thoughts are for the politician and statesponies to think of.
On a similar note, the tracks are incredibly muddied, but there are some striking signs that completely confuse me. The markings come in pairs. Minotaurs are not known to be kept by either the griffons or us, but one could have escaped from some source. I have informed my compatriots of a bipedal possibility.
Archmagi Ley Line
The thaumic energies of the region seem to be stabilizing into a distinct pattern. If anything, the magical grid feels fractured. To use a drastically simplified simile, this fracture is to the fracture of a Great Spell as a bowling ball is to a levin-bolt. Its a giant, ragged hole. The oddest part of the fracture is not the gap itself, its the texture of the breakage. Its shocking. Literally. There is a tinge of electrical energy, unlike any I have seen before. If this is present in any text contained by ponykind, I do not know of it. I warn the College, and Equestria, to be on guard. If any living thing has this sort of fracturing power, we may have to worry about our magical abilities.
Scribe Calligraphy Pen
Ponies catalogued. No one out of place and no new ponies.
Tasks successfully completed. Local nobility informed and powers duly delegated, with help of Guardsmare Steel.
Local supplies in full and complete stock. Grounds set for military contingent yet to arrive.
House commandeered for civilian Response infrastructure.
Missives collected, headed with sender.
Personal Note: Archmage Ley Line was kind enough to teach me a low-energy recoding spell. If all goes well, I should be able to have a narrative journal of our expedition after the tracks. If the spell works properly.
Arrival: Victorian Progress
Official Report: 16 Laudum 843 C.R.
2:32 L.T.
On the authority of Her Majesty, Princess Celestia, Ruler of Equestria, Shepard of New Neighland, and heir to the Neelgai Empire, Response 63 is hereby executed. On the discretion of the heads of the respective departments, two Royal Guardmares, one Royal Scribe, and one Archmage shall be sent to the city of Ashenpole for investigative purposes.
2:57 L.T.
Her Royal Captain Stalwart Bulwark authorizes the dispatch of two Guardsmares as ordered by Response 63. Guardsmare Shimmering Steel and Guardsmare Stone Wall will report to the city of Ashenpole at 4:00 C.T. We look forward to peacefully working with the other representatives.
3:07 L.T.
The Royal Collegium hereby releases Archmage Ley Line from all Collegium or other official duties, and permits her travel with the company dictated by Response 63. The Collegium Council would also like to politefully remind Her Majesty that Response 63 leaves the Council with only 6 of its 7 official resident members. With all due Respect, we of the Council hope that this expedition will be duly expedient and particularly fruitful.
3:08 L.T.
The Scibulatory Corps herewith dispatches Junior Scribe Calligraphy Pen to accommodate to provision 63. Our scribe arrives with a dedicated work ethic and an in-depth knowledge of the area surrounding Ashenpole. While he might only be a Junior member of the Corps, we believe his talents and knowledge will prove to be beneficial to this endeavor.
