The Collegiate Conundrumby DivideChaptersPrologue: Hello, RainbowI — No WoeII — Quid Pro QuoIII — Information AppreciationPrologue: Hello, RainbowPrologue — Hello, Rainbow College sucks. At least, you think so. You don't care what anyone says. College is basically an adult kindergarten, one where depressed teachers try to uphold some semblance of order in their classes full of drunk, disorderly, or just plain stupid students (and you use the term 'students' extremely loosely) that are only there because their rich parents want their brain-dead children to have some sort of higher education. Either that or sports scholarships. Goddamn sports scholarships. At least, your college certainly feels that way. The only thing that makes Victus College anything near bearable is your roommate, Fredric, but as fate would have it, he left this morning to go on an all-expenses paid trip to Canterlot, over in Equestria. Lucky bastard. If you had known what the prize was for that anthropological study, you would've entered. You always wanted to see your walking, talking, pony-people neighbours first hand. Hindsight's twenty-twenty, you figure. Here you are, sitting at your desk, triple-checking your thirty page essay while the rest of the campus sleeps off the previous night of debauchery and poor decisions. You don't understand why people hate Mondays so much. It's just another day of the week, and no matter what day comes after Sunday, that day would take the undeserved blame. In fact, you salute Monday for taking all the hate like a champ. There's a loud thunk at your door, heavy enough to mess up your writing. You sigh solemnly, for the end is nigh: The only person that could possibly be rapping at your chamber door this early can only be your future roommate, and you're definitely not lucky enough to get a good one twice in a row. Thunk. The empty sound comes from the lower portion of the door. Good thing they're fairly solid to prevent dorm-crashers. "It's open," you sullenly call without turning around. Thunk. Your face is deridingly neutral. "It's a generally known fact that doors are opened with hands, not feet." Thunk. "For crying out loud," you mutter, then ask louder, "Are you trying to cave the door in? If you are, you're doing a damn fine job of it." Thunk. Your eye twitches. Grudgingly, you stand up and traverse the distance between your desk and the door in two strides. "How difficult was that?" you say with acidity as you grab the doorknob and reef it open. "How goddamn difficult is it to open a door without—" Your words die in your throat, and you immediately wish that you could rescind them. Standing in front of you is a wide-eyed native of Equestria carrying a skyscraper of books, two bulging suitcases, and a backpack that wouldn't look out of place on a mountain climber. The handles of a smaller, purse-like device are gripped firmly in the Equestrian's mouth. Shit. "I-uh... umm..." Words having failed you, you make an entering motion with your hand as you step to the side. "Can I take a bag or two?" you ask with a sigh, doing your best to act gentlemanly after royally messing up already. The Equestrian pointedly ignores you, refusing your oh-so generous offer. With a tail flick that makes you feel dismissed, the Equestrian walks past you and dumps everything they're carrying onto the empty bed. You pinch the bridge of my nose. Christ, the media was full of it: Equestrians were just as unfriendly as humans. Eyes narrowed, you shut the door and watch the Equestrian struggle to remove the oversized backpack. There's no way you're going to offer help now. The dweller from across the Way is definitely a female, if the breasts and backside are any indication (you only notice because you see her side view; you have much better things to do than ogle a foreign pony/person hybrid). She's short, about a head shorter than yourself, and like all natives of Equestria, she is one of the many colours of the rainbow—in this case, blue. Light blue. There's probably a name for that specific shade, but you don't know or otherwise care what it is. Her hair (mane, technically, but it certainly looks like hair) is the actual colours of the rainbow: each section sports a different colour. You absently wonder if she dyes it. Her clothes, on the other hand, are fairly basic. And by basic, you mean that your simple jeans and a long-sleeve shirt combo makes you feel overdressed. She's wearing only a pair of dark blue, form-fitting shorts alongside a black T-shirt with a yellow lightning bolt in the centre. A pair of wings the same colour as her fur are sticking out of the two hastily-cut holes in her shirt. "I presume you're here because you're my new roommate and not because you got lost backpacking in the Alps," you say as she finally manages to undo the twenty-or-so straps that held the mountaineer's knapsack in place. You thought you were clever, considering that summer had come two months early. As the backpack drops to the floor, you swear you hear the floorboards crack. "I thought that you'd be a female," she says casually and, surprisingly, without menace, like you're merely discussing the weather. Her voice is a bit husky. "O—kay? And why would you think that I was a woman?" you ask, even though you already know the answer. Co-ed sleeping arrangements just didn't happen at Victus College. If they did, you're sure that it would be a lot noisier at night than it currently was. "I was told I'd be sleeping with a human of the same gender." You snort. "What?" she asks. She gestures to her bed and yours. "This is where we sleep, right? And we're in the same room, so doesn't that mean we're sleeping together?" Ohgodyoursides— You can't hold it anymore. The sheer ridiculousness of the entire situation hits you and what little self-control you have slips, causing you to burst into cackling laughter that sounds like an eighty-year old chain smoker crossed with the Joker. When the chuckles run dry, you bring your attention back to the now extremely flustered Equestrian. She looks like she's about to wring your neck. You cough to clear your throat. "The word you're probably looking for is lodging, although technically rooming could also be used," you enlighten. "We're rooming together. Over here, 'sleeping' can also mean—" You make a circle with one hand and put the forefinger of your other hand into it. Her blue face turns a shade of purple. "—Yeah. Gotta watch your words here." You decide to change the subject. "Quite frankly, I think they made a mistake. Co-ed sleeping arrangements aren't normally allowed. I mean, the whole 'different species' thing could be an argument, but... wait. You are my new roommate... right? You didn't just wander in here by accident?" She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. "I was told to go to room three-oh-three. I was also told that the person inside would be my roommate." Her big, magenta eyes narrow. "I was not told that they'd be a guy or that they'd be a pain in the flank." You scratch your day-old stubble. "Well, it seems like we were both left in the dark about this whole situation." You sigh. There was a lot to be desired in the management of Victus, but this was a new low. "If you're here to stay, I guess that means we have to introduce ourselves, doesn't it?" She mutters something that you can't hear and blows a lock of her hair absently. "Yeah, I guess we do. I'm Rainbow Dash." "Nice to meet you, Rainbow Dash," you say earnestly all the while thinking about how silly her name is. "My name is..." I — No WoeI — No Woe "Nice to meet you," Rainbow Dash says after you tell her your name. She silently mouths your first name, her expression looking like she had tasted something foul. She goes back to unpacking, shaking her head. Oh well. At least your name is actually a name, and not a noun followed by a verb. You glance over at the leaning tower of books on Fredric's—Rainbow Dash's now, you guess—bed that somehow manages to stay upright. That says more about the stiffness of the bed than her stacking abilities, though. You see an assorted collection of textbooks, varying from math to sociology and everything in between. "So, Rainbow—can I call you Rainbow?" you ask while she continues to unpack. "Sure, I guess, but if you try to shorten it any more or give me a stupid nickname, I'll throw you out the window. Deal?" You shrug. "Fair is fair. Deal. Anyway, what—exactly—are you doing here? At Victus?" "I'm here to go to college," Rainbow replies simply. You see her pull out what appears to be a swimsuit—albeit a very strange-looking one, with the same holes cut out for her wings. "Isn't that obvious?" "Why here? On Earth, I mean. Equestria has colleges too, right? And universities?" Rainbow tilts her head from side to side, somehow combining a nod and a shake. She sits down on the bed gingerly so as not to displace the leaning tower of learning. "There are universities in Equestria, yeah, but no colleges. I'm going to college here because... well..." You raise an eyebrow at her trailing off. "Because..?" Rainbow brushes a section of her hair over a gently rounded ear before answering. "I had to leave all of my friends to come here. It wasn't really my choice... I mean, it was my choice, but there weren't a whole lot of choices, y'know?" You did not know, but you nod anyway. "Some went to other places across Earth to learn stuff," she continues. "Some stayed behind to teach stuff. I can't learn egghead stuff very easily and I can't teach somepony how to fly faster, so my options were kinda limited. I may be the fastest flyer in Equestria but they wouldn't let me get within seeing distance of a university." She sounds and looks unhappy after what she just said. "When I was given the chance to go somewhere that was basically a university for sports, I took the offer in a heartbeat." Your teeth unintentionally grind together. Goddamn sports scholarships. "Wait... are... are you supposed to be my friend here?" Rainbow Dash suddenly asks, looking up at you. The question catches you off-guard. You swallow and look away from the intensity and amount of her stare. "I don't know how to answer that," you honestly admit as shuffle your papers uncomfortably. "What do you mean?" "You're the first human that I've properly met, besides the weird silent guy wearing sunglasses that drove me here. And because you're my roommate. Roommates are supposed to stick together, aren't they?" You inwardly groan. You barely have time to complete all of your assignments, let alone time to for friends. The only person you got along with was Frederic, and you had a hard time calling him your friend. Rainbow cocks her head at you, waiting for a reply. You look back up at the ceiling. You really don't want or need a friend, but you can at least pretend to be her friend for a little while, long enough for her to make her own friends. Rainbow Dash would make friends in no time, and then she'll leave you to your own devices. You can feel like you gained a bit of good karma while simultaneously making Rainbow feel welcome. Surely, this will work out exactly like you plan and will not backfire in any way, shape, or form. Surely. Hopefully. "I guess I could be your friend," you say after what feels like an eternity. Her response completely baffles you. "But what if I don't want you to be my friend?" You open your mouth only to close it again shortly after you see her deadly-serious expression. "But—?" you begin. "I thought—?" "I asked if you were supposed to be my friend, not if you would be. What do I look like, a friendship charity case?" You feel strangely rejected. "Well, uh..." Suddenly, Rainbow bursts out laughing and falls onto the bed, chortling to herself. You stand at the edge of the bed with a confused expression, and when she seems to get a hold of herself and sits back up, you raise an inquisitive eyebrow. If anything, that seems to set her off even more. It takes a solid minute of waiting for Rainbow Dash's wracking laughter to fully die down. "You should've seen the look on your face. I wish I had a camera," she said. "Har-de-har-har. I can already tell that you are going to be a royal pleasure to room with, Rainbow Dash," you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Your mind is already churning with ideas on how to get her back. Her fur seems like a prime target. Something at breakfast. "You know, you're not half bad. I think given some time, I could allow you to be my friend," she teases, bringing you out of your dastardly planning. "So let me get this straight: you're not here to learn about human culture and science, you're here to play sports?!" Rainbow frowns. "Yeah, so?" "So? So?!" You feel your blood pressure rising. "You get a free ride while other more deserving people have to bust their ass in every conceivable way!" Without warning, Rainbow Dash's wings spread and she launches herself off her bed straight towards you, fury in her eyes. "Hey—!" is all you manage to say before she crashes into you like a wrecking ball. As you fall to the floor in what feels like slow motion, a small part of you hears a knock on the door. Thunk! "Ow!" you exclaim, your vision full of a very angry Equestrian. There's practically steam coming out of her ears. "What the hell?!" "You think I'm getting a free ride?! You have no idea what I had to give up to get here!" Dazed and confused, the back of your head begins to throb as the door to your shared dorm opens slowly, revealing someone standing in the doorway. You follow the nicely polished dress shoes to an un-creased pair of khaki pants. You already know who it is by the time you reach the grey blazer. "Good morning, Mister Teller," you say habitually. Mister Teller is the dean of administration. He replaced Mister Divide—who was kind of a dick—during the beginning of the year. Fortunately, you haven't had to have crossed his path more than twice, and those times were only in the hallway. To be honest, he kind of scares you. At least Mister Divide had a sense of humour, however dark it may have been. He raises an eyebrow and strokes his always-shaven chin. You follow his line of sight, and promptly swear under your breath. As if lying on the floor isn't enough of a poor impression on the dean, Rainbow Dash practically straddling you certainly is. She glances at the dean, then at you, then back at the dean. She smiles falsely, showing glossy white teeth. You look back at Mister Teller. He seems almost amused. "Good morning indeed," he says neutrally. He pulls the cuff down from his left hand and checks his watch. "I was going to ask how you and Miss Dash were getting along, but that question seems rather moot at this point." "I-uh—" Mister Teller raises a hand, silencing your attempt at a retort. He thinks for a moment as the ghost of a smile appears on his lips. It quickly fades away, replaced by the stoic face he normally wears. "I was also going to ask if you two would accompany me to my office so I can finalize a few documents, but I could always come back in fifteen minutes, if that's more preferable." You stare at him, eyes wider than Rainbow's. He stares back, unmoved. "Is fifteen minutes not long enough?" "Are you—?" "Kidding? Yes." He rolls his eyes. "Now get up, please. I don't know what situation I stumbled upon, and quite frankly, they don't pay me enough to care. So, if you don't mind, finish—" He gestures palm-up to the awkward position that you and Rainbow Dash share on the floor. "—Whatever this is and meet me in my office by eight o'clock. That's eight minutes, in case you weren't aware." The dean takes one last look before shaking his head and closing the door behind him. "Rainbow?" "... Yeah?" "Please get off of me." She complies without another word, and you find yourself and her staring face-to-face. You cross your arms and tap your foot, expecting an answer. She holds your stare. You decide to apologize first. "Sorry for what I said. Sports scholarships are a bit of a sore subject for me." "I, uh, over-reacted I guess. It's been a long couple of days." Rainbow seems like she has something else to say, but she clams up before another word slips out. You wave the rest of her apology away, satisfied with her explanation. "Alright, we have a meeting to attend. It's a short walk from here. Let's go." II — Quid Pro QuoII — Quid Pro Quo When you and Rainbow Dash arrive at the dean's office, he politely informs you that he will speak to both you and her separately. Naturally, she gets to go first, and you're stuck waiting outside. With a sigh, you sit down in an uncomfortable waiting chair outside his office as both he and Rainbow sit in comfy, leather swivel chairs. You try to keep yourself occupied with the vulgar comments engraved into the plastic armrest, but there's only so many times you can read the f-word before you become bored. Your phone is plugged into your charger back in your dorm, so entertainment from that was thrown out the proverbial window. Honestly, you aren't even sure why you have a phone in the first place: the games became old really quick, your parents rarely call you, and if there was a soul remaining in Victus that could hold a decent conversation through text-messaging, you haven't found them yet. Your fingers tap a rhythm intelligible only to yourself as you try to find solace from the boredom in your thoughts. Fortunately, just as you start reciting pi just for the hell of it, the door opens and it's your turn for the sit-down with Mr. Teller. "See ya back at the dorm, Rainbow. That is, if you haven't decided to move out already," you say as you pass her. "You won't get rid of me that easily!" she calls from down the hallway. Unbidden, a smile appears on your face before you remember what you're about to do. With the same energy of a convict walking the green mile, you close the door behind you and sit down. The room smells of leather and shaving cream. Mister Teller looks about as comfortable in the seat as he would in a Volkswagen Beetle. The dean is quite tall and makes everything around him look small in comparison. "Good morning," he says plainly. "Please lock the door. I'd hate to be interrupted." You nod and press the push button lock. "At a loss for words? Surprising," he continues, pulling out a file from a stack, "considering the amount of complaints I've received from your instructors that the only time your mouth is closed is when you, and I quote, 'are preparing the next wise-ass comment.'" You shrug. "What can I say? When Misses Hopkins teaches something in class that I didn't learn from five minutes of Internet surfing in my spare time, I'll stop with the ubiquitous comments." Mister Teller smiles wryly and puts the file away. "I'll be sure to tell her that. But a professor's complaint isn't why you're here right now, is it?" You shake your head. "I figured. You're probably wondering why you're new roommate is an Equestrian—or something of the sort. Correct?" You nod. "From here on out, I need you to verbally communicate. Understand?" "Sure, but why?" you ask. He motions towards a small, unassuming device near the corner of his neatly organized desk. "This conversation is being recorded," he plainly states. "Nodding or shaking your head isn't picked up by audio recorders, now is it?" You swallow nervously. "No sir." He snorts. "Oh, is it 'sir' now? Sir Teller. That'll be the day." He snorts. "Don't bother. You never used it before, don't start now." "Can I ask why this is being recorded?" You're unsure why, but you're starting to sweat. You surreptitiously wipe your hands on your pant legs. "You certainly may, and I am obliged to answer any questions you may have, but only after you answer one more question from myself." "Alright. Shoot." "Why?" You don't understand. "Why what?" "Why what indeed." The dean leans back in his chair, eliciting a succession of plaintive squeaks from the leather. "Why are you here? At Victus College?" "To achieve a higher form of education." Mr. Teller smiles like he knows something you don't. "I know who you are. I've seen your aptitude scores. Tell me: Why are you here?" Your eyes narrow. "Who's this recording going to be heard by?" "That's classified, unfortunately. And before you ask, no, I don't know, either. It's classified to me as well." You bite the inside of your cheek before answering. What are you supposed to say? That the only reason you're enrolled in Victus College is because it's the only one you can afford? That your parents won't assist you in the slightest? That for some reason unbeknownst to you, your high school classmates were given scholarships to higher-end post-secondary establishments with lower SAT scores than yourself? Before long, your mouth tastes like blood. You decide to tell Mister Teller exactly why you're enrolled in Victus College. After you finish, he leans back while you grind your teeth together. You hate wearing your teeth down, but it was either that or you start digging into the armrest with your fingernails. "And that's why," you conclude, "I'm here." You look the dean in the eye, and he meets your gaze, although he seems to be looking at you a little bit differently. You're not entirely sure, but there appears to be... respect in his grey-green eyes. "I see. Since that's the case, I can almost guarantee that you'll appreciate the offer I'm about to present to you. But first, a little... exposition as to what situation we're in right now." The dean stands up, faces the wall, takes a deep breath, then faces you. "As anyone who hasn't been living under a rock can tell you, humanity isn't alone anymore. Six and a half years ago, give or take a month, the Way opened in the middle of the northern section of the Atlantic Ocean. It didn't go unnoticed very long. After the first drones went in and came out unharmed with pictures and video of an Earth-like world, the world's major powers were quick to declare that everything on the other side was accorded neutral territory to prevent another World War. "I'm sure you remember what happened next." A half-smile graces your lips. "Yeah. I remember. First contact." Mr. Teller nods. "First contact with an alien species. Of course, the Equestrians were nothing like what anyone was expecting. Humanoids that shared an almost eerie amount of similarities to Earth equines and were around a hundred and fifty years behind technologically? Ridiculous. But true, as has become painfully obvious to those that denied it." "Why are you telling me this?" you ask. "Not that I don't enjoy a history lesson, but you said there was an offer to be made...?" "Patience is a virtue," he chided. "When you realize that there's some crap in life you just have to sit through and deal with, you'll be glad that you practiced it in other places. Anyway... "Fast forward a couple of years. The massive hype centered around 'Equestria' as everyone has taken to calling it, has died down. A rather fitting name, wouldn't you say? Even though most of humanity only knows the basics about Equestria or its natives, you can bet that the world's governments know a lot more. But they still want to know more. Knowledge is power, as they say. "And now, the present. A... foreign exchange program of sorts is now in full effect. The world superpowers are sending gifted students to study in Equestria while the Equestrian government sends their own to take their place. It's an effort to strengthen our relations with our neighbours while simultaneously achieving a better grasp of how their society works. Makes a lot more sense now, doesn't it?" You nod slowly, then remember the recorder. "Yeah, it does. It explains why Fredric's gone. He's brighter than I am." You don't feel bad about admitting that. Fredric was a certified genius, and if you stuck out like a sore thumb in Victus, then he stuck out like a sore limb. It's no surprise that Fredric won that anthropology— Wait a second... "That anthropology study was a sham, wasn't it?" you ask, suddenly realizing. You run a hand through your hair. "I can't believe I didn't see that at first. Anthropology—but it wasn't a study about humans, was it? It was a study about the Equestrians. An anthropomorphic study." He smirked. "More or less. Fredric was being exchanged, and winning a trip was the simplest cover story that we could procure." You think you hear him mutter something about his boss not getting the reference while you did. You decide that's a compliment. "I suppose you want the offer now." After you nod, he continues. "Rainbow Dash is here via the good will of Princess Celestia—that's one of the two monarchs that make up Equestria's diarchy—and she, Rainbow Dash, will be attending Victus to 'learn and benefit from living amongst humans in their native environment'—Celestia's words, not mine. We figured that a college was the safest place to start her: closed campus, very little outside contact, a focus on sports excellence, etcetera. "All you have to do is be Miss Dash's chaperone during her stay here. That includes befriending her, escorting her, and essentially making sure that she enjoys her time at Victus. Naturally, the both of you will still have your courses to attend and assignments to complete. You will also in charge of tutoring Miss Dash should she require assistance. "In return, after she has returned to Equestria, we would gladly pay for the remainder of your post-secondary education—wherever it is that you wish to obtain such education." "Anywhere?" you ask, eyes agleam. Mr. Teller nods. "Anywhere," he confirms. "It's quid pro quo—you help us, we help you. What do you say?" You can hardly believe your luck. Who knew friends could be so valuable? There's just one thing you have to ask first... "Why me?" "You were picked for a number of reasons. Intelligence, personality traits, willingness to cooperate—don't look at me like that. If it's measurable, we measured it, and you were green-lighted on all required attributes. All of your less-desirable attributes were heavily countered by your desired ones." You mentally shake your head, barely able to comprehend the situation you find yourself in. Why the hell not, you decide. You doubt that you'll ever get a chance like this again. "I accept," you say without hesitation. "Where do I sign?" Wordlessly, Mr. Teller slides you a single sheet of paper with an 'X' where your signature belongs. You quickly sign it and hand it back. "A pleasure doing business with you." The dean is truly smiling for the first time. It makes him look somewhat like a wolf. "Likewise. Am I free to go now?" you ask. "Of course." As you open the door to leave, you stop before you exit. "Mister Teller—if that's even your name—you kept saying 'we' and 'our'. Who do you mean?" The dean's wolfish grin expands. "Who do you think? "The government, of course." III — Information AppreciationIII — Information Appreciation Your steps feel heavier than usual as you walk back towards your dorm. You always wondered what it would be like to make a deal with the devil—now that you have, you're not sure how to feel about it, although you're certain that you'll have a solid opinion soon. A guttural phrase detailing last night's obscenities echoes through the hallway as a pair of degenerates leave their own dorm behind you. It appears that the members of the de-generation have started going through the daily motions. You hurry around the corner before they can see you, and continue down the carpeted corridor to your own dorm. When you reach your door, you twist the doorknob and continue walking, expecting the door to be unlocked, just like you left it—your wallet was almost perpetually empty with the exception of a couple bank cards, and the only thing of real value you owned was your laptop, which was safely hidden under your mattress. The door fails to open and you walk straight into the door. Thankfully, your nose protected the rest of your body by taking all of the trauma. Swearing under your breath and pinching the bridge of your nose with one hand, you knock on the door with the other. No response. Gritting your teeth, you knock again and exclaim, "Rainbow?! I know you're in there! Lemme in!" The door opens a crack. You try to open it all the way, but the chain-lock keeps it from moving. A single eye looks up at you through the slit. "Who's there?" Rainbow asks, feigning ignorance. "You damn well know who's there," you mutter. "Now let me in!" "What's the password?" You glance behind you. Thankfully, there's nobody out and about to see you locked out of your own home. You silently count to five in your head before answering. "Open sesame?" Rainbow disappears for a few seconds before returning. "Wrong password." You throw your arms up in the air. "Then I don't know the password, Rainbow. Please: let me in." Your words were drenched in acidic sweetness. "You don't know the password to your own device? How do you use it then?" Wait, what? "What 'device'?" you ask. "This one." Rainbow disappears for a moment before returning to the crack. You can see that she's holding onto your computer, which is running and stuck on the log-in screen. "Did you forget?" "Hey—did you go searching through my stuff? Put my computer back!" "Tell me the password and I'll let you in, okay? Deal?" Of all the—fine. Whatever. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't really matter if Rainbow Dash knows the password to your laptop or not. Besides: all your porn is very well hidden. She'll never find it. "Alright," you sigh. "The password is 'cabbage', lowercased." Confusion shows in the solitary eye that you can see. "Cabbage?" "Yeah. Cabbage." "Why is it—?" "Don't ask. It's a long story." You hear a couple of keyboard clicks and then the start-up jingle. The door opens fully mere seconds after, and you hear the bedsprings groan as she hops onto her bed. At least Rainbow is true to her word. As you shut the door behind yourself, you glance right and see her lying on her stomach, frowning at the computer screen. Her left, oversized ear twitches towards you as the floor cracks underfoot. Her legs below the knee are bouncing up and down, and where feet would be on a human, there are a pair of hooves instead. Despite how human Rainbow Dash acts, you still have to remember that she isn't—and never will be. You shake your head and begin to check over your area to make sure that the laptop was the only thing Rainbow took. She may be true to her word, but she doesn't seem to know squat about personal space. Thankfully, the rest of your possessions seem to be in order. You look back at Rainbow to find her frown growing in size. It's almost comical how annoyed she looks. "Rainbow," you begin, your voice laced with forced cheeriness, "what seems to be the problem?" "It doesn't work properly. See?" You severely doubt that. You walk over to her bedside and peer at the computer screen. Everything is as it should be: the desktop is exactly the way you left it, and there doesn't appear to be any error windows cropping up. "I don't see the problem." "I can't move the—the thing!" You look down and see Rainbow aggressively sweeping her finger across the track pad. The cursor remains practically stationary in the centre of the screen. It only moves a few millimetres after even her most aggressive swipes. "It doesn't work!" You nudge her hand out of the way and trace a figure eight pattern on the smooth surface. The cursor follows the pattern exactly. You chuckle when you realize why it doesn't work for her. "It's your hands," you explain. "The sensor is built for human hands, not Equestrian ones." "So... I can't use it?" Rainbow sounds extremely disappointed. You sigh. "Give me a minute and I'll find something that lets you use it," you offer. As you begin searching your side of the room for a mouse, you ask, "How do you know how to use a computer, anyway?" "Is that what it's called? A computer?" You nod. "I sat beside a human using one on the... flying machine." "Airplane?" "Yeah, that was it. On the airplane." "Hmm." The mouse isn't where you thought you left it, so you begin systematically searching through all of the locations it could possibly be. "What did Mister Teller talk to you about?" "Oh, he told me about all of the different courses I'll be taking. He also welcomed me to college and said that I would have a wonderful time here." Rainbow's face scrunches up like she tastes something sour. "What's wrong?" you ask. After scrounging for a short while, you find the mouse underneath your dresser. You pick it up and walk back over to Rainbow Dash. As you connect it to the computer, you add, "Feeling homesick already?" She nods. "Yeah. I miss my friends. I miss my town. What I miss the most, though, is flying." "Flying?" You glance at her wings. "Oh, right. Of course. Flying. How could I forget?" Rainbow Dash flaps them once, lightly smacking the back of your head with one of them. "I can't fly very well here. I can barely keep myself in the air. When I first came here, to Earth, I landed flat on my face instead of soaring." You stifle a laugh. "Hey! How would you like it if suddenly your legs didn't work?" "I'm actually quite terrified of becoming paralyzed. Sorry," you quickly apologize. "I just imagined that happening, and I couldn't help myself. You falling on your face and all." She hits you in the back of the head with her wing again, this time harder. "I said I was sorry! Sheesh." After thinking for a moment, you remember what you were going to ask. "Why is it easier for you to fly in Equestria than Earth?" Rainbow shrugs. "Something about different laws of physics. Or the lack of magic. Or the air content. Hard to remember egghead stuff." Hmm. You always wondered on the more incorporeal aspects between Earth and Equestria. "For what it's worth," you begin, "I'm sorry that your wings don't work as well as they should. I really am. I've been stuck on the ground my whole life, give or take an airplane flight or two, so my words probably don't mean much. But I'm still sorry." "...Thanks." An awkward silence hangs in the air. You break it by showing Rainbow Dash how to use the mouse. "What is it that you're looking for on my computer, anyway?" You see a twinkle in her eye. "My friend Twilight told me about something called the 'Internet', where you can find anything. Is that true?" You nod. "Pretty much." "How do I get there?" "I'll show you." Five minutes and a quick course of 'Internet for Beginners' later, you have Rainbow Dash using the Internet like a professional. Naturally, you put on the child protection applications on your browser so that Rainbow doesn't stumble upon something that'll scar her for life. You leave her to her own devices, and return to your own: namely, going over your thirty-page essay one last time. As deeply involved as you are with your work, it takes Rainbow calling your name three times in progressively louder fashion to rouse you. "Yeah? What?" you ask. "I'm hungry. When's breakfast?" You check your phone, which also serves as your watch. "About twenty minutes until the café is open. I'll let you know when, okay?" "'Kay." You're about to return to your essay when you realize that everyone and their mother will probably be swarming over to get a look at Rainbow Dash. Just the fact that she was here would probably make the paper until she left. You sigh and rub your forehead when you realize there's no way around it, but a small smile appears when you realize that today is half-off waffles day. They say that revenge is a dish best served cold, but maple syrup is best served warm.
Prologue: Hello, RainbowPrologue — Hello, Rainbow College sucks. At least, you think so. You don't care what anyone says. College is basically an adult kindergarten, one where depressed teachers try to uphold some semblance of order in their classes full of drunk, disorderly, or just plain stupid students (and you use the term 'students' extremely loosely) that are only there because their rich parents want their brain-dead children to have some sort of higher education. Either that or sports scholarships. Goddamn sports scholarships. At least, your college certainly feels that way. The only thing that makes Victus College anything near bearable is your roommate, Fredric, but as fate would have it, he left this morning to go on an all-expenses paid trip to Canterlot, over in Equestria. Lucky bastard. If you had known what the prize was for that anthropological study, you would've entered. You always wanted to see your walking, talking, pony-people neighbours first hand. Hindsight's twenty-twenty, you figure. Here you are, sitting at your desk, triple-checking your thirty page essay while the rest of the campus sleeps off the previous night of debauchery and poor decisions. You don't understand why people hate Mondays so much. It's just another day of the week, and no matter what day comes after Sunday, that day would take the undeserved blame. In fact, you salute Monday for taking all the hate like a champ. There's a loud thunk at your door, heavy enough to mess up your writing. You sigh solemnly, for the end is nigh: The only person that could possibly be rapping at your chamber door this early can only be your future roommate, and you're definitely not lucky enough to get a good one twice in a row. Thunk. The empty sound comes from the lower portion of the door. Good thing they're fairly solid to prevent dorm-crashers. "It's open," you sullenly call without turning around. Thunk. Your face is deridingly neutral. "It's a generally known fact that doors are opened with hands, not feet." Thunk. "For crying out loud," you mutter, then ask louder, "Are you trying to cave the door in? If you are, you're doing a damn fine job of it." Thunk. Your eye twitches. Grudgingly, you stand up and traverse the distance between your desk and the door in two strides. "How difficult was that?" you say with acidity as you grab the doorknob and reef it open. "How goddamn difficult is it to open a door without—" Your words die in your throat, and you immediately wish that you could rescind them. Standing in front of you is a wide-eyed native of Equestria carrying a skyscraper of books, two bulging suitcases, and a backpack that wouldn't look out of place on a mountain climber. The handles of a smaller, purse-like device are gripped firmly in the Equestrian's mouth. Shit. "I-uh... umm..." Words having failed you, you make an entering motion with your hand as you step to the side. "Can I take a bag or two?" you ask with a sigh, doing your best to act gentlemanly after royally messing up already. The Equestrian pointedly ignores you, refusing your oh-so generous offer. With a tail flick that makes you feel dismissed, the Equestrian walks past you and dumps everything they're carrying onto the empty bed. You pinch the bridge of my nose. Christ, the media was full of it: Equestrians were just as unfriendly as humans. Eyes narrowed, you shut the door and watch the Equestrian struggle to remove the oversized backpack. There's no way you're going to offer help now. The dweller from across the Way is definitely a female, if the breasts and backside are any indication (you only notice because you see her side view; you have much better things to do than ogle a foreign pony/person hybrid). She's short, about a head shorter than yourself, and like all natives of Equestria, she is one of the many colours of the rainbow—in this case, blue. Light blue. There's probably a name for that specific shade, but you don't know or otherwise care what it is. Her hair (mane, technically, but it certainly looks like hair) is the actual colours of the rainbow: each section sports a different colour. You absently wonder if she dyes it. Her clothes, on the other hand, are fairly basic. And by basic, you mean that your simple jeans and a long-sleeve shirt combo makes you feel overdressed. She's wearing only a pair of dark blue, form-fitting shorts alongside a black T-shirt with a yellow lightning bolt in the centre. A pair of wings the same colour as her fur are sticking out of the two hastily-cut holes in her shirt. "I presume you're here because you're my new roommate and not because you got lost backpacking in the Alps," you say as she finally manages to undo the twenty-or-so straps that held the mountaineer's knapsack in place. You thought you were clever, considering that summer had come two months early. As the backpack drops to the floor, you swear you hear the floorboards crack. "I thought that you'd be a female," she says casually and, surprisingly, without menace, like you're merely discussing the weather. Her voice is a bit husky. "O—kay? And why would you think that I was a woman?" you ask, even though you already know the answer. Co-ed sleeping arrangements just didn't happen at Victus College. If they did, you're sure that it would be a lot noisier at night than it currently was. "I was told I'd be sleeping with a human of the same gender." You snort. "What?" she asks. She gestures to her bed and yours. "This is where we sleep, right? And we're in the same room, so doesn't that mean we're sleeping together?" Ohgodyoursides— You can't hold it anymore. The sheer ridiculousness of the entire situation hits you and what little self-control you have slips, causing you to burst into cackling laughter that sounds like an eighty-year old chain smoker crossed with the Joker. When the chuckles run dry, you bring your attention back to the now extremely flustered Equestrian. She looks like she's about to wring your neck. You cough to clear your throat. "The word you're probably looking for is lodging, although technically rooming could also be used," you enlighten. "We're rooming together. Over here, 'sleeping' can also mean—" You make a circle with one hand and put the forefinger of your other hand into it. Her blue face turns a shade of purple. "—Yeah. Gotta watch your words here." You decide to change the subject. "Quite frankly, I think they made a mistake. Co-ed sleeping arrangements aren't normally allowed. I mean, the whole 'different species' thing could be an argument, but... wait. You are my new roommate... right? You didn't just wander in here by accident?" She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. "I was told to go to room three-oh-three. I was also told that the person inside would be my roommate." Her big, magenta eyes narrow. "I was not told that they'd be a guy or that they'd be a pain in the flank." You scratch your day-old stubble. "Well, it seems like we were both left in the dark about this whole situation." You sigh. There was a lot to be desired in the management of Victus, but this was a new low. "If you're here to stay, I guess that means we have to introduce ourselves, doesn't it?" She mutters something that you can't hear and blows a lock of her hair absently. "Yeah, I guess we do. I'm Rainbow Dash." "Nice to meet you, Rainbow Dash," you say earnestly all the while thinking about how silly her name is. "My name is..."
I — No WoeI — No Woe "Nice to meet you," Rainbow Dash says after you tell her your name. She silently mouths your first name, her expression looking like she had tasted something foul. She goes back to unpacking, shaking her head. Oh well. At least your name is actually a name, and not a noun followed by a verb. You glance over at the leaning tower of books on Fredric's—Rainbow Dash's now, you guess—bed that somehow manages to stay upright. That says more about the stiffness of the bed than her stacking abilities, though. You see an assorted collection of textbooks, varying from math to sociology and everything in between. "So, Rainbow—can I call you Rainbow?" you ask while she continues to unpack. "Sure, I guess, but if you try to shorten it any more or give me a stupid nickname, I'll throw you out the window. Deal?" You shrug. "Fair is fair. Deal. Anyway, what—exactly—are you doing here? At Victus?" "I'm here to go to college," Rainbow replies simply. You see her pull out what appears to be a swimsuit—albeit a very strange-looking one, with the same holes cut out for her wings. "Isn't that obvious?" "Why here? On Earth, I mean. Equestria has colleges too, right? And universities?" Rainbow tilts her head from side to side, somehow combining a nod and a shake. She sits down on the bed gingerly so as not to displace the leaning tower of learning. "There are universities in Equestria, yeah, but no colleges. I'm going to college here because... well..." You raise an eyebrow at her trailing off. "Because..?" Rainbow brushes a section of her hair over a gently rounded ear before answering. "I had to leave all of my friends to come here. It wasn't really my choice... I mean, it was my choice, but there weren't a whole lot of choices, y'know?" You did not know, but you nod anyway. "Some went to other places across Earth to learn stuff," she continues. "Some stayed behind to teach stuff. I can't learn egghead stuff very easily and I can't teach somepony how to fly faster, so my options were kinda limited. I may be the fastest flyer in Equestria but they wouldn't let me get within seeing distance of a university." She sounds and looks unhappy after what she just said. "When I was given the chance to go somewhere that was basically a university for sports, I took the offer in a heartbeat." Your teeth unintentionally grind together. Goddamn sports scholarships. "Wait... are... are you supposed to be my friend here?" Rainbow Dash suddenly asks, looking up at you. The question catches you off-guard. You swallow and look away from the intensity and amount of her stare. "I don't know how to answer that," you honestly admit as shuffle your papers uncomfortably. "What do you mean?" "You're the first human that I've properly met, besides the weird silent guy wearing sunglasses that drove me here. And because you're my roommate. Roommates are supposed to stick together, aren't they?" You inwardly groan. You barely have time to complete all of your assignments, let alone time to for friends. The only person you got along with was Frederic, and you had a hard time calling him your friend. Rainbow cocks her head at you, waiting for a reply. You look back up at the ceiling. You really don't want or need a friend, but you can at least pretend to be her friend for a little while, long enough for her to make her own friends. Rainbow Dash would make friends in no time, and then she'll leave you to your own devices. You can feel like you gained a bit of good karma while simultaneously making Rainbow feel welcome. Surely, this will work out exactly like you plan and will not backfire in any way, shape, or form. Surely. Hopefully. "I guess I could be your friend," you say after what feels like an eternity. Her response completely baffles you. "But what if I don't want you to be my friend?" You open your mouth only to close it again shortly after you see her deadly-serious expression. "But—?" you begin. "I thought—?" "I asked if you were supposed to be my friend, not if you would be. What do I look like, a friendship charity case?" You feel strangely rejected. "Well, uh..." Suddenly, Rainbow bursts out laughing and falls onto the bed, chortling to herself. You stand at the edge of the bed with a confused expression, and when she seems to get a hold of herself and sits back up, you raise an inquisitive eyebrow. If anything, that seems to set her off even more. It takes a solid minute of waiting for Rainbow Dash's wracking laughter to fully die down. "You should've seen the look on your face. I wish I had a camera," she said. "Har-de-har-har. I can already tell that you are going to be a royal pleasure to room with, Rainbow Dash," you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Your mind is already churning with ideas on how to get her back. Her fur seems like a prime target. Something at breakfast. "You know, you're not half bad. I think given some time, I could allow you to be my friend," she teases, bringing you out of your dastardly planning. "So let me get this straight: you're not here to learn about human culture and science, you're here to play sports?!" Rainbow frowns. "Yeah, so?" "So? So?!" You feel your blood pressure rising. "You get a free ride while other more deserving people have to bust their ass in every conceivable way!" Without warning, Rainbow Dash's wings spread and she launches herself off her bed straight towards you, fury in her eyes. "Hey—!" is all you manage to say before she crashes into you like a wrecking ball. As you fall to the floor in what feels like slow motion, a small part of you hears a knock on the door. Thunk! "Ow!" you exclaim, your vision full of a very angry Equestrian. There's practically steam coming out of her ears. "What the hell?!" "You think I'm getting a free ride?! You have no idea what I had to give up to get here!" Dazed and confused, the back of your head begins to throb as the door to your shared dorm opens slowly, revealing someone standing in the doorway. You follow the nicely polished dress shoes to an un-creased pair of khaki pants. You already know who it is by the time you reach the grey blazer. "Good morning, Mister Teller," you say habitually. Mister Teller is the dean of administration. He replaced Mister Divide—who was kind of a dick—during the beginning of the year. Fortunately, you haven't had to have crossed his path more than twice, and those times were only in the hallway. To be honest, he kind of scares you. At least Mister Divide had a sense of humour, however dark it may have been. He raises an eyebrow and strokes his always-shaven chin. You follow his line of sight, and promptly swear under your breath. As if lying on the floor isn't enough of a poor impression on the dean, Rainbow Dash practically straddling you certainly is. She glances at the dean, then at you, then back at the dean. She smiles falsely, showing glossy white teeth. You look back at Mister Teller. He seems almost amused. "Good morning indeed," he says neutrally. He pulls the cuff down from his left hand and checks his watch. "I was going to ask how you and Miss Dash were getting along, but that question seems rather moot at this point." "I-uh—" Mister Teller raises a hand, silencing your attempt at a retort. He thinks for a moment as the ghost of a smile appears on his lips. It quickly fades away, replaced by the stoic face he normally wears. "I was also going to ask if you two would accompany me to my office so I can finalize a few documents, but I could always come back in fifteen minutes, if that's more preferable." You stare at him, eyes wider than Rainbow's. He stares back, unmoved. "Is fifteen minutes not long enough?" "Are you—?" "Kidding? Yes." He rolls his eyes. "Now get up, please. I don't know what situation I stumbled upon, and quite frankly, they don't pay me enough to care. So, if you don't mind, finish—" He gestures palm-up to the awkward position that you and Rainbow Dash share on the floor. "—Whatever this is and meet me in my office by eight o'clock. That's eight minutes, in case you weren't aware." The dean takes one last look before shaking his head and closing the door behind him. "Rainbow?" "... Yeah?" "Please get off of me." She complies without another word, and you find yourself and her staring face-to-face. You cross your arms and tap your foot, expecting an answer. She holds your stare. You decide to apologize first. "Sorry for what I said. Sports scholarships are a bit of a sore subject for me." "I, uh, over-reacted I guess. It's been a long couple of days." Rainbow seems like she has something else to say, but she clams up before another word slips out. You wave the rest of her apology away, satisfied with her explanation. "Alright, we have a meeting to attend. It's a short walk from here. Let's go."
II — Quid Pro QuoII — Quid Pro Quo When you and Rainbow Dash arrive at the dean's office, he politely informs you that he will speak to both you and her separately. Naturally, she gets to go first, and you're stuck waiting outside. With a sigh, you sit down in an uncomfortable waiting chair outside his office as both he and Rainbow sit in comfy, leather swivel chairs. You try to keep yourself occupied with the vulgar comments engraved into the plastic armrest, but there's only so many times you can read the f-word before you become bored. Your phone is plugged into your charger back in your dorm, so entertainment from that was thrown out the proverbial window. Honestly, you aren't even sure why you have a phone in the first place: the games became old really quick, your parents rarely call you, and if there was a soul remaining in Victus that could hold a decent conversation through text-messaging, you haven't found them yet. Your fingers tap a rhythm intelligible only to yourself as you try to find solace from the boredom in your thoughts. Fortunately, just as you start reciting pi just for the hell of it, the door opens and it's your turn for the sit-down with Mr. Teller. "See ya back at the dorm, Rainbow. That is, if you haven't decided to move out already," you say as you pass her. "You won't get rid of me that easily!" she calls from down the hallway. Unbidden, a smile appears on your face before you remember what you're about to do. With the same energy of a convict walking the green mile, you close the door behind you and sit down. The room smells of leather and shaving cream. Mister Teller looks about as comfortable in the seat as he would in a Volkswagen Beetle. The dean is quite tall and makes everything around him look small in comparison. "Good morning," he says plainly. "Please lock the door. I'd hate to be interrupted." You nod and press the push button lock. "At a loss for words? Surprising," he continues, pulling out a file from a stack, "considering the amount of complaints I've received from your instructors that the only time your mouth is closed is when you, and I quote, 'are preparing the next wise-ass comment.'" You shrug. "What can I say? When Misses Hopkins teaches something in class that I didn't learn from five minutes of Internet surfing in my spare time, I'll stop with the ubiquitous comments." Mister Teller smiles wryly and puts the file away. "I'll be sure to tell her that. But a professor's complaint isn't why you're here right now, is it?" You shake your head. "I figured. You're probably wondering why you're new roommate is an Equestrian—or something of the sort. Correct?" You nod. "From here on out, I need you to verbally communicate. Understand?" "Sure, but why?" you ask. He motions towards a small, unassuming device near the corner of his neatly organized desk. "This conversation is being recorded," he plainly states. "Nodding or shaking your head isn't picked up by audio recorders, now is it?" You swallow nervously. "No sir." He snorts. "Oh, is it 'sir' now? Sir Teller. That'll be the day." He snorts. "Don't bother. You never used it before, don't start now." "Can I ask why this is being recorded?" You're unsure why, but you're starting to sweat. You surreptitiously wipe your hands on your pant legs. "You certainly may, and I am obliged to answer any questions you may have, but only after you answer one more question from myself." "Alright. Shoot." "Why?" You don't understand. "Why what?" "Why what indeed." The dean leans back in his chair, eliciting a succession of plaintive squeaks from the leather. "Why are you here? At Victus College?" "To achieve a higher form of education." Mr. Teller smiles like he knows something you don't. "I know who you are. I've seen your aptitude scores. Tell me: Why are you here?" Your eyes narrow. "Who's this recording going to be heard by?" "That's classified, unfortunately. And before you ask, no, I don't know, either. It's classified to me as well." You bite the inside of your cheek before answering. What are you supposed to say? That the only reason you're enrolled in Victus College is because it's the only one you can afford? That your parents won't assist you in the slightest? That for some reason unbeknownst to you, your high school classmates were given scholarships to higher-end post-secondary establishments with lower SAT scores than yourself? Before long, your mouth tastes like blood. You decide to tell Mister Teller exactly why you're enrolled in Victus College. After you finish, he leans back while you grind your teeth together. You hate wearing your teeth down, but it was either that or you start digging into the armrest with your fingernails. "And that's why," you conclude, "I'm here." You look the dean in the eye, and he meets your gaze, although he seems to be looking at you a little bit differently. You're not entirely sure, but there appears to be... respect in his grey-green eyes. "I see. Since that's the case, I can almost guarantee that you'll appreciate the offer I'm about to present to you. But first, a little... exposition as to what situation we're in right now." The dean stands up, faces the wall, takes a deep breath, then faces you. "As anyone who hasn't been living under a rock can tell you, humanity isn't alone anymore. Six and a half years ago, give or take a month, the Way opened in the middle of the northern section of the Atlantic Ocean. It didn't go unnoticed very long. After the first drones went in and came out unharmed with pictures and video of an Earth-like world, the world's major powers were quick to declare that everything on the other side was accorded neutral territory to prevent another World War. "I'm sure you remember what happened next." A half-smile graces your lips. "Yeah. I remember. First contact." Mr. Teller nods. "First contact with an alien species. Of course, the Equestrians were nothing like what anyone was expecting. Humanoids that shared an almost eerie amount of similarities to Earth equines and were around a hundred and fifty years behind technologically? Ridiculous. But true, as has become painfully obvious to those that denied it." "Why are you telling me this?" you ask. "Not that I don't enjoy a history lesson, but you said there was an offer to be made...?" "Patience is a virtue," he chided. "When you realize that there's some crap in life you just have to sit through and deal with, you'll be glad that you practiced it in other places. Anyway... "Fast forward a couple of years. The massive hype centered around 'Equestria' as everyone has taken to calling it, has died down. A rather fitting name, wouldn't you say? Even though most of humanity only knows the basics about Equestria or its natives, you can bet that the world's governments know a lot more. But they still want to know more. Knowledge is power, as they say. "And now, the present. A... foreign exchange program of sorts is now in full effect. The world superpowers are sending gifted students to study in Equestria while the Equestrian government sends their own to take their place. It's an effort to strengthen our relations with our neighbours while simultaneously achieving a better grasp of how their society works. Makes a lot more sense now, doesn't it?" You nod slowly, then remember the recorder. "Yeah, it does. It explains why Fredric's gone. He's brighter than I am." You don't feel bad about admitting that. Fredric was a certified genius, and if you stuck out like a sore thumb in Victus, then he stuck out like a sore limb. It's no surprise that Fredric won that anthropology— Wait a second... "That anthropology study was a sham, wasn't it?" you ask, suddenly realizing. You run a hand through your hair. "I can't believe I didn't see that at first. Anthropology—but it wasn't a study about humans, was it? It was a study about the Equestrians. An anthropomorphic study." He smirked. "More or less. Fredric was being exchanged, and winning a trip was the simplest cover story that we could procure." You think you hear him mutter something about his boss not getting the reference while you did. You decide that's a compliment. "I suppose you want the offer now." After you nod, he continues. "Rainbow Dash is here via the good will of Princess Celestia—that's one of the two monarchs that make up Equestria's diarchy—and she, Rainbow Dash, will be attending Victus to 'learn and benefit from living amongst humans in their native environment'—Celestia's words, not mine. We figured that a college was the safest place to start her: closed campus, very little outside contact, a focus on sports excellence, etcetera. "All you have to do is be Miss Dash's chaperone during her stay here. That includes befriending her, escorting her, and essentially making sure that she enjoys her time at Victus. Naturally, the both of you will still have your courses to attend and assignments to complete. You will also in charge of tutoring Miss Dash should she require assistance. "In return, after she has returned to Equestria, we would gladly pay for the remainder of your post-secondary education—wherever it is that you wish to obtain such education." "Anywhere?" you ask, eyes agleam. Mr. Teller nods. "Anywhere," he confirms. "It's quid pro quo—you help us, we help you. What do you say?" You can hardly believe your luck. Who knew friends could be so valuable? There's just one thing you have to ask first... "Why me?" "You were picked for a number of reasons. Intelligence, personality traits, willingness to cooperate—don't look at me like that. If it's measurable, we measured it, and you were green-lighted on all required attributes. All of your less-desirable attributes were heavily countered by your desired ones." You mentally shake your head, barely able to comprehend the situation you find yourself in. Why the hell not, you decide. You doubt that you'll ever get a chance like this again. "I accept," you say without hesitation. "Where do I sign?" Wordlessly, Mr. Teller slides you a single sheet of paper with an 'X' where your signature belongs. You quickly sign it and hand it back. "A pleasure doing business with you." The dean is truly smiling for the first time. It makes him look somewhat like a wolf. "Likewise. Am I free to go now?" you ask. "Of course." As you open the door to leave, you stop before you exit. "Mister Teller—if that's even your name—you kept saying 'we' and 'our'. Who do you mean?" The dean's wolfish grin expands. "Who do you think? "The government, of course."
III — Information AppreciationIII — Information Appreciation Your steps feel heavier than usual as you walk back towards your dorm. You always wondered what it would be like to make a deal with the devil—now that you have, you're not sure how to feel about it, although you're certain that you'll have a solid opinion soon. A guttural phrase detailing last night's obscenities echoes through the hallway as a pair of degenerates leave their own dorm behind you. It appears that the members of the de-generation have started going through the daily motions. You hurry around the corner before they can see you, and continue down the carpeted corridor to your own dorm. When you reach your door, you twist the doorknob and continue walking, expecting the door to be unlocked, just like you left it—your wallet was almost perpetually empty with the exception of a couple bank cards, and the only thing of real value you owned was your laptop, which was safely hidden under your mattress. The door fails to open and you walk straight into the door. Thankfully, your nose protected the rest of your body by taking all of the trauma. Swearing under your breath and pinching the bridge of your nose with one hand, you knock on the door with the other. No response. Gritting your teeth, you knock again and exclaim, "Rainbow?! I know you're in there! Lemme in!" The door opens a crack. You try to open it all the way, but the chain-lock keeps it from moving. A single eye looks up at you through the slit. "Who's there?" Rainbow asks, feigning ignorance. "You damn well know who's there," you mutter. "Now let me in!" "What's the password?" You glance behind you. Thankfully, there's nobody out and about to see you locked out of your own home. You silently count to five in your head before answering. "Open sesame?" Rainbow disappears for a few seconds before returning. "Wrong password." You throw your arms up in the air. "Then I don't know the password, Rainbow. Please: let me in." Your words were drenched in acidic sweetness. "You don't know the password to your own device? How do you use it then?" Wait, what? "What 'device'?" you ask. "This one." Rainbow disappears for a moment before returning to the crack. You can see that she's holding onto your computer, which is running and stuck on the log-in screen. "Did you forget?" "Hey—did you go searching through my stuff? Put my computer back!" "Tell me the password and I'll let you in, okay? Deal?" Of all the—fine. Whatever. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't really matter if Rainbow Dash knows the password to your laptop or not. Besides: all your porn is very well hidden. She'll never find it. "Alright," you sigh. "The password is 'cabbage', lowercased." Confusion shows in the solitary eye that you can see. "Cabbage?" "Yeah. Cabbage." "Why is it—?" "Don't ask. It's a long story." You hear a couple of keyboard clicks and then the start-up jingle. The door opens fully mere seconds after, and you hear the bedsprings groan as she hops onto her bed. At least Rainbow is true to her word. As you shut the door behind yourself, you glance right and see her lying on her stomach, frowning at the computer screen. Her left, oversized ear twitches towards you as the floor cracks underfoot. Her legs below the knee are bouncing up and down, and where feet would be on a human, there are a pair of hooves instead. Despite how human Rainbow Dash acts, you still have to remember that she isn't—and never will be. You shake your head and begin to check over your area to make sure that the laptop was the only thing Rainbow took. She may be true to her word, but she doesn't seem to know squat about personal space. Thankfully, the rest of your possessions seem to be in order. You look back at Rainbow to find her frown growing in size. It's almost comical how annoyed she looks. "Rainbow," you begin, your voice laced with forced cheeriness, "what seems to be the problem?" "It doesn't work properly. See?" You severely doubt that. You walk over to her bedside and peer at the computer screen. Everything is as it should be: the desktop is exactly the way you left it, and there doesn't appear to be any error windows cropping up. "I don't see the problem." "I can't move the—the thing!" You look down and see Rainbow aggressively sweeping her finger across the track pad. The cursor remains practically stationary in the centre of the screen. It only moves a few millimetres after even her most aggressive swipes. "It doesn't work!" You nudge her hand out of the way and trace a figure eight pattern on the smooth surface. The cursor follows the pattern exactly. You chuckle when you realize why it doesn't work for her. "It's your hands," you explain. "The sensor is built for human hands, not Equestrian ones." "So... I can't use it?" Rainbow sounds extremely disappointed. You sigh. "Give me a minute and I'll find something that lets you use it," you offer. As you begin searching your side of the room for a mouse, you ask, "How do you know how to use a computer, anyway?" "Is that what it's called? A computer?" You nod. "I sat beside a human using one on the... flying machine." "Airplane?" "Yeah, that was it. On the airplane." "Hmm." The mouse isn't where you thought you left it, so you begin systematically searching through all of the locations it could possibly be. "What did Mister Teller talk to you about?" "Oh, he told me about all of the different courses I'll be taking. He also welcomed me to college and said that I would have a wonderful time here." Rainbow's face scrunches up like she tastes something sour. "What's wrong?" you ask. After scrounging for a short while, you find the mouse underneath your dresser. You pick it up and walk back over to Rainbow Dash. As you connect it to the computer, you add, "Feeling homesick already?" She nods. "Yeah. I miss my friends. I miss my town. What I miss the most, though, is flying." "Flying?" You glance at her wings. "Oh, right. Of course. Flying. How could I forget?" Rainbow Dash flaps them once, lightly smacking the back of your head with one of them. "I can't fly very well here. I can barely keep myself in the air. When I first came here, to Earth, I landed flat on my face instead of soaring." You stifle a laugh. "Hey! How would you like it if suddenly your legs didn't work?" "I'm actually quite terrified of becoming paralyzed. Sorry," you quickly apologize. "I just imagined that happening, and I couldn't help myself. You falling on your face and all." She hits you in the back of the head with her wing again, this time harder. "I said I was sorry! Sheesh." After thinking for a moment, you remember what you were going to ask. "Why is it easier for you to fly in Equestria than Earth?" Rainbow shrugs. "Something about different laws of physics. Or the lack of magic. Or the air content. Hard to remember egghead stuff." Hmm. You always wondered on the more incorporeal aspects between Earth and Equestria. "For what it's worth," you begin, "I'm sorry that your wings don't work as well as they should. I really am. I've been stuck on the ground my whole life, give or take an airplane flight or two, so my words probably don't mean much. But I'm still sorry." "...Thanks." An awkward silence hangs in the air. You break it by showing Rainbow Dash how to use the mouse. "What is it that you're looking for on my computer, anyway?" You see a twinkle in her eye. "My friend Twilight told me about something called the 'Internet', where you can find anything. Is that true?" You nod. "Pretty much." "How do I get there?" "I'll show you." Five minutes and a quick course of 'Internet for Beginners' later, you have Rainbow Dash using the Internet like a professional. Naturally, you put on the child protection applications on your browser so that Rainbow doesn't stumble upon something that'll scar her for life. You leave her to her own devices, and return to your own: namely, going over your thirty-page essay one last time. As deeply involved as you are with your work, it takes Rainbow calling your name three times in progressively louder fashion to rouse you. "Yeah? What?" you ask. "I'm hungry. When's breakfast?" You check your phone, which also serves as your watch. "About twenty minutes until the café is open. I'll let you know when, okay?" "'Kay." You're about to return to your essay when you realize that everyone and their mother will probably be swarming over to get a look at Rainbow Dash. Just the fact that she was here would probably make the paper until she left. You sigh and rub your forehead when you realize there's no way around it, but a small smile appears when you realize that today is half-off waffles day. They say that revenge is a dish best served cold, but maple syrup is best served warm.
