A Pony's Guide To Raising An Alien Octopus-Girl

Chapter 1, Part 3: In Which Tentacled Trouble Uses A Spoon

Quill awoke to the sound of the birds singing cheerfully outside of his window, the morning rays of Celestia’s sun shining in through his window and casting their light upon his tan carpeted floor in a manner quite spectacular to say the least.

He let out a short, happy, grunt and pulled his blanket up over his shoulder. Gosh his bed was comfy; in that moment it was his best friend. He never wanted to leave his bed. The silky fabric, the cloud-like pillows, the perfect springiness of the mattress.

The strange, squishy object currently poking at his wings repeatedly.

Wait what?

Quill mumbled unintelligibly and rolled over in the bed, eyes half open and less than half awake. He fully expected to have been imagining the feeling, and that he would turn over to see nothing but his pillow or something. He did live alone after all, so what on earth could have been poking him?

Upon turning over in the bed, Quill was suddenly face to face with two, large, turquoise eyes, about a hairs breadth away from his muzzle.

“YAAH!” He cried out, flailing wildly and proceeding to fall out of his bed, sending his comforter flying a bit, and his pillow getting pulled down with him.

If you had played it back in slow motion, it would have been rather spectacular. Equine limbs flailing wildly as their owner realized his inevitable crash landing. Pillow soaring high into the air and a most gorgeous arc, and comforter flying the other way as it was kicked.

The face of sheer mirth upon the face of the small one that caused all this.

And suddenly he was on the floor, and everything from the previous day flooded back into his head like a tidal wave of tentacled, giggling, child-like noises and events.

“Nababa!” Came a tiny, familiar voice.

“Yeah, yeah, good morning.” He groaned, sitting up and turning to see the Octopus-girl making her way over to the edge of the bed.

“You know, it isn’t nice to wake ponies up like that, it’s frightening.” He said, unable to contain at least a small grin at the sight of this tentacled mess on his bed.

She moved over to the edge of the bed and looked him dead in the eyes; she didn’t even have to bend over due to the fact his being on the floor put him at her eye level from her position on the bed, and instead of getting a response to his previous statement, he received an affectionate hug on his muzzle.

“You’re such a little suck up…” He mumbled, chuckling softly and nuzzling the octopus-girl’s stomach; eliciting a giggle from her.

“You know what I just realized?” He said, after his muzzle was released.

“Nah?”

“You don’t have a name, do you?”

The octopus-girl stared blankly at him, expressionless.

“What if I called you something like…Squishy?”

The expression he received in response was the definition of disgust; which was slightly surprising considering the nameless octopus-girl was only a baby.

“Bahbanaga!” She exclaimed; idly groping at the comforter with a leg tentacle.

“Yeah, that sounds more like some Saddle Arabian food rather than a name…” Quill said thoughtfully, sitting up on his haunches and stretching his wings out a bit.

Maybe he should get some food in him rather than starting the day by trying to name an octopus-child.

As if on cue, his stomach let out a low rumble, as if telling him that his thoughts should very much be carried out as soon as possible.

“Hmm…” He said, looking the octopus-girl up and down for a moment, before slowly righting himself and ruffling his mane a bit with a hoof.

“How about you and I see if we can’t do something about breakfast, and we can think up a name while we eat, hmm?”

“Mah.” She exclaimed softly, seeming content with an answer Quill wasn’t even sure if she understood.

The trip down the hallway and into the kitchen was nothing if not uneventful, the octopus-girl stuck close by and didn’t show any want to really wander off. She was content with simply trailing behind in relative silence.

Upon coming to his kitchen, Quill made his way over to the fridge and opened it up, leaning against the door and staring blankly inside.

The refrigerated air rushed out like a tidal wave, making him shiver for a moment before the air dissipated.

His fridge was rather poorly stocked.

On the top shelf sat a gallon of milk, and a half finished bottle of orange juice. With a bottle of ranch dressing in the back that was almost empty.

The shelf below held a few fruits and a plastic-wrapped sandwich from before time began. There was a Tupperware container filled with tomato soup at least, so that was good.

The bottom shelf was stocked the fullest, an assortment of vegetables both large and small, each in their own bag and sorted all neatly.

In the door, were multiple different types of soda, energy drinks, and even more sodas; only these were half finished.

There was actually plenty of food here for a pony who lived alone, like Quill.

The problem was he seemed to be fresh out of octopus food.

“Mahba.” The octopus-girl exclaimed, suddenly appearing between Quill’s front legs with her hands latched to the bottom shelf, curiously inspecting the vegetables.

“I don’t think you’ll like-“

Without further adieu, the octopus-girl latched a suckered hand around a bag of onions and proceeded to pull them out of the fridge, bringing about six other bags of various vegetables down with it.

The fact she had brought down so many other bags didn’t seem to affect the tentacled onion-thief In the slightest, as evident by the fact she simply made her way through them in a crumpling of plastic and paper, sought out what she deemed a suitable spot on the floor, and proceeded to further inspect her new treasure.

Quill watched her carefully out of the corner of his eye whilst returning his produce to the fridge. He watched as the octopus girl curiously pulled at the plastic of the bag and poked at the single onion inside, making her strange gurgling noises as she did so.

Wait, babies weren’t supposed to have plastic bags!

With a good deal of haste, he made his way over and gently relieved onion from octopus, and set said onion up on the counter; bag and all.

The onion-thief looked nonplussed.

“You can choke on that, and besides I don’t think octopi are supposed to eat onions…”

“Bahga.” She seemed to state somewhat firmly.

“Well, I don’t know! I’ve never had a baby octopus-thing in my house before!” Quill exclaimed, rubbing his still slightly closed eyes.

It was too early for tentacled shenanigans.

“Mahba!” She exclaimed; turning and extending her tiny arms up in the direction of where the onions now rested.

“But, I don’t-“

“Bagaba!” She exclaimed in that tiny voice of hers.

“You know what, fine; you can try some, but don’t be surprised when you despise a raw onion.” Quill said with a sigh, reaching up and pulling the onion out of its bag. He had no intention of giving her the whole thing of course, but he could at least let her try a little piece.

Hopefully this wasn’t like…bad for her or something.

“Bah.” She said, snatching the bit of onion from his hoof and inspecting it thoroughly.

“Go on then, you’re the one who wanted it in the first place!”

The octopus-girl gave the bit of onion another hard look, then without hesitation popped it into her mouth and began chewing happily away as if there were nothing abnormal about this.

“Oh.” He said, after watching the tiny girl chew and swallow the onion without so much as a sour face, then proceed to turn her gaze back up to him and let out a simple. “Gaba.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Quill deadpanned, shaking his head at the girl who only seemed to get stranger, before turning back to fish something out of his fridge more to his taste.

Despite the fact he knew that the octopus-girl was most likely trying to get a hold of the onions when he wasn’t looking, Quill focused on feeding himself and feeding himself alone; At least for a moment.

However; much like most mornings, he didn’t feel like actually cooking.

Therefore out came the carton of juice and the container of soup, followed by the sound of rustling plastic from behind him.

Called it.

Quill turned to find; as expected, the octopus-girl sitting on the floor, the plastic bag strewn over to the side and the onion held in both her sucker-covered hands.

“How did you even…”

She glanced up at him and gave the most innocent smile an octopus-girl could give, and then proceeded to bite down on the onion like one would an apple. She looked happy as could be and munched away in complete bliss, doing something that most ponies would have just about died from having to do.

“You just get stranger and stranger, I swear.”Quill said with a grin, turning and setting his container of soup down on the counter beside the carton of juice and hopping up on a stool.

Leaving octopus to enjoy onion, he opened up the container of soup and was instantly hit with the pleasant smell of said food; Tomatoes and seasonings all mixing together to form a smell near intoxicating.

The soup would be cold, but Quill didn’t mind. That morning he kind of felt like cold soup anyway, so it all worked out well.

“Mah!”

Quill turned his gaze away from breakfast and down to the octopus-girl who; upon seeing him sitting, had promptly made her way over to the base of his stool, looking up with an expression that seemed to say. “Uh, excuse me, why am I not also up there?”

“You aren’t getting my food.” He said, looking down at her with a shake of his hoof.

“Bah!” She exclaimed, holding up the half of an onion she had left; a bit of the other half stuck to the corner of her mouth.

Quill wasn’t sure if that had been a coincidence or if she had shown him she still had her own food on purpose to let him know she wouldn’t need his. She seemed pretty smart, so it wouldn’t be too surprising.

Silently, he leaned over and pulled out the stool next to him, reaching down and helping the octopus-girl to clamber up in a mess of tentacles, then seat herself happily on top.

With an amused coo, she began to scan her surroundings from this new vantage point, half-eaten onion still clutched in her sucker-covered hands.

Quill watched her carefully for a moment, as if to make she wouldn’t suddenly fall off the stool or something bad of that sort. However the octopus-girl seemed fully capable of maintaining her balance and remaining firmly planted in her seat, and soon the sound of her munching away at the onion was once again heard.

With a faint smile, Quill turned back to his soup. Realizing he forgot a spoon, he promptly righted this and leaned over to pull one out of the nearby drawer, returning to his soup now ready to devour it fully.

With the spoon-usage skills of a master, he scooped up a bit of soup and it soon disappeared into his maw. It was cool and refreshing, leaving a bit of a pleasant aftertaste as it washed down his gullet.

Without expecting an interruption, he prepared to take another spoonful of soup into his mouth, just as he was stopped by a rather abrupt “Maba!”

“I told you, this is my food, you’re the weirdo who wanted to eat an onion.” He chuckled, turning his gaze over to his breakfast companion, following her gaze to find it locked onto his spoon with a burning curiosity.

“Bagah?” She said curiously, gently setting her onion down on the counter before making a grabby motion with her hands in the direction of his spoon.

With a soft sigh, he moved it within her reach; he’d just get another one.

The octopus-girl quickly snatched up the spoon and began inspecting it thoroughly, letting out that soft gurgling noise she would make, upon finding her reflection through the bit of soup still remaining on the utensil. Her hair-tentacles became a bit livelier for a short moment and then she quickly set the spoon back on the counter; as close as she could get it to Quill.

Then, with surprising grace and ease. She slipped down off her stool and took off out of the kitchen without so much as a “Gahba.”

“Ahh, hold on, don’t go and get into something!” Quill said with a huff, giving his breakfast a look of longing before hopping from his stool and taking off into the living room, just in time to see the octopus-girl rounding into the hallway bathroom.

“What are you…?”

A second later, she returned. However this time she carried with her what she most likely deemed precious cargo.

In one hand, she clutched the shiny silver pot from the previous night, and in the other, she held the wooden spoon.

Paying no mind to Quill, she made her was past him with the slightest sense of haste, and was soon back into the kitchen, standing patiently by her stool and awaiting to be lifted back up.

“Really now?” He said with a chuckle upon returning to the kitchen, smirking at the serious look on her face.

“Bah.”

“You’re a mess.” He said, gently lifting her up and setting her back atop her stool once more; praying there wasn’t about to be an early morning jam session and at the same time being impressed she’d remembered where he put those items.

Much to his surprise however, instead of hitting the pot with the spoon, the octopus-girl proceeded to set the pot upright and place her mutilated-looking onion inside of it.

Curious as to what she was doing, Quill slid back into his stool and retrieved his spoon, proceeding to eat his soup and watch his guest as one would popcorn at a movie.

Focused wholeheartedly on her task, the octopus-girl picked up her wooden spoon and smacked it against the onion with what could only be described as a “Passion.”

The fact the onion wasn’t going onto the spoon seemed to cause a great deal of confusion.

“Here…” Quill said with a smile, scooting his stool over closer and making to grab the onion.

“BAH!” The octopus-girl cried, looking over at him with the most intimidating glare she could muster and waggling the spoon a bit.

“Alright, alright…don’t get your tentacles in a bunch…” He deadpanned, eyes hooded.

Ignoring him wholly, the octopus-girl proceeded to hit the onion once again with the spoon, unsurprisingly yielding the same result as the first attempt.

“Just lemme know when you’re done being stubborn.” Quill chimed, turning his attention back to his own food and listening wooden spoon smack against onion and pot in a manner quite chaotic.

Four spoonfuls of soup later, the cacophony had abruptly ceased, and a gentle tap was felt on his shoulder, followed by a defeated sounding gurgle.

“You ready for help now?” Quill asked, turning his gaze over to the octopus-girl looking up at him and holding back a smile.

He took his being offered a wooden spoon as a yes.

“Watch, you aren’t going to get anything on this spoon with the onion looking like…that.” He said; eyeing the produce that looked like it had been jumped in a Manehattan alleyway.

Quill pulled the pot over a bit, figuring he would work on the fact you weren’t really supposed to eat onions with a big wooden spoon out of a metal pan later. He promptly took the onion in a hoof; finding it a bit slobbery, and broke it up.

It wasn’t necessarily hard to do this, because onions are layered; like a cake or the Ogres that roamed Equestria.

Ogres were layered too you know, despite what they would tell you.

With nothing other than a small, worried, whimper from his guest. Quill soon had the onion broken up into smaller, slimy pieces that only filled up about a fourth of the pan itself.

“Now try.” He said, hoofing the spoon back to the octopus-girl and watching her carefully.

With the softest of mewls she accepted the spoon, turning over and gazing down at the pot of raw onions in a manner almost cautious.

Giving Quill a look of uncertainty, she proceeded to; successfully this time, scoop up a bit of onion on her spoon, and carry it into her mouth.

Upon completing this task, she looked ecstatic.

“There you go!” Quill exclaimed, smiling like an idiot. “You’ll be a pro in no time!”

“Yagah!” The octopus-girl replied, smiling just as wide through close eyes, before turning to take another bite of onion from her recently mastered spoon.

This made Quill feel warm for some reason. He was actually kind of proud of himself right now.

The rest of breakfast was rather quiet and uneventful, the octopus-girl was contented with eating her onion bit by bit with a wooden spoon that was much too large, out of a pot that was both too large and not being used for its intended purpose.

Quill managed to down his soup without interruption, eating as silent as the one sitting beside him.

It was a peaceful breakfast, and if one had taken a picture of the two who shared it, they would have looked like some odd pair you would see half-awake at a diner at three in the morning, the kind hunched over steaming cups of coffee and staring ahead into nothingness with hooded eyes.

Which was funny, because one was an infant octopus-girl.

A tiny, soft yawn followed soon after Quill had rinsed out the now empty container of soup, he turned to find the octopus-girl’s eyes drooping a bit and her hair-tentacles moving lazily and without much energy; a few of them even hung limp.

“How are you already sleepy again…?” He asked softly, trotting over to the stool upon which the octopus girl was perched.

“Bah…” She replied sleepily, making half-hearted grabby motions with barely raised arms.

Jeeze, little tyke really did run out of gas quick.

“Come on then…”He said with a sigh, moving over and allowing the tuckered-out octopus-girl to clamber off the stool and onto his back, then promptly bury her face in the back of his neck and let out a muffled coo.

Figuring he could come back in and clean up what mess was left in the kitchen after putting tired-tentacles to bed, Quill made his was slowly into the living room and over to the couch; already beginning to formulate a grand plan of what he was going to be doing while the octopus-girl napped.

He would lay her down, let her fall asleep. The quietly go and finish cleaning the kitchen. Once that was all done he thought it would be a good idea to sit down and try to get some work done on his story!

This whole ordeal had given him quite a few new ideas, so that was good.

Without much trouble, he managed to get his tired passenger over to the couch and get her onto it. She slid off his back and lay down on the couch without so much as a gurgle of complaint; grabbing the blanket she had been meant to sleep with the previous night, pulling it up beside her, and proceeding to faceplant into the couch.

“I find it hard to believe you aren’t playing this up.” Quill said under his breath, grinning a bit as the octopus-girl tucked herself in, her eyes shutting almost instantly.

Unsure exactly how to react to this; and forgetting what happened when he left her alone last night, Quill turned and began making his way into the kitchen, not really thinking anything else would happen.

Until he actually left the room.

And then the crying and the hollering began, not fifteen seconds later.

With a bit of a huff, Quill turned and peered back into the living room, finding the infant-octopus standing up on the couch, bawling her eyes out.

“Really?” He deadpanned.

The octopus girl quieted down and looked over at him, rubbing her eyes and letting out a soft “Nagah.”, before making a soft gurgling noise and reaching her arms out in his direction.

With the smallest sigh, Quill made his way back over to the couch and plopped down with the tiniest bit of annoyance; so much for all those plans.

“You are a literal, mess, you know that?” He said, finding himself unable to really stay annoyed at the tiny octopus-girl currently snuggling up against his thigh.

“Yahba.” She said sleepily, gurgling in a happy manner and rubbing her cheek against his leg.

“’Yahba’ Indeed…”