Soarin With You

by TheTraxicEnd

Rating: mature
Tags: Sad, Romance, Human
Length: 1901

When you, the only human in Equestria, falls in love with a pony you meet at a carnival, what will you do?

Warning: Second Person Romance featuring 'you' (a female) and Soarin, the Wonderbolt.

Soarin, a veteran in the popular flying team from Cloudsdale, becomes friends with you after the two of you meet in Ponyville on his day off. Luckily, you were able to spend some time alone with him, so you could find the real reason to why he was there…

…only to find more than just a simple reason.

Chapters with clop will be labeled with [clop].

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-09-14 00:00:04 UTC

Preparation

Soarin With You

A story written by Soaring

Chapter One: Preparation

Another day, another lost cause.

This is how you’ve been feeling since you’ve arrived in Equestria.

Life in Equestria has been dull and unappreciative. You’ve been sleeping in lately due to this unappealing view. In this world, you are not respected as much as the other non-pony creatures. To them, you are a foreigner, an alien, an outcast. Nothing more than a meager mooch who siphons society’s welfare and peace; shuffling important matters handled by many government officials to the floor as they try to appeal their planet to meet your standards.

Problem is, those standards aren’t being met. No one will hire you because they’re afraid of what you could do to their establishments. For all they know, you could go rabid and murder their entire roster. They don’t want to risk it, especially with the threat of angry, deranged mobs looming over their nightmares. So you’re left out due to who you are: a once normal human female.

“Get out of here you alien!”

“You don’t belong here!”

“Go back to your own planet!”

You shakily sigh as you peel yourself from the covers of the bed you are fortunate enough to own. When you got here, no one would sell you one. They would ignore you, saying that your gold, shining coins hold no value in their shops’ registers. It killed your motivation to go outside, the long walks down the dirt paths with the feeling of twenty stares glaring upon you; they couldn’t just stop, could they? No, they look at you with those cold stares that could tell you all you needed to know: you were an eyesore.

“Get out of my shop you animal!”

The sounds of shaking rattles you, a normal sound you’d hear daily due to one of your portable fan’s blades being bent at a certain angle, which collided with the other blades placed closer to the more bent one. You shake your head to try and calm yourself down, but your heart is pounding so fast that you feel like you’ll pass out at any second. The feeling of some wetness near your eye leaving you as it begins its trek down your cheek, rapidly reaching its point where it has no where to go but to the harsh, wooden floor.

The tears come and go as your behaviors have changed. You were once bright, cheery, loving, and caring. Now, you resemble a worn mother, barely hanging on by a thread as your existence lies solely on making it out of bed to go and care for your child. Fortunately, you’re not a mother, but that only makes it more severe that you’ve fallen closer to that stage. You don’t know what to blame: the ponies or yourself. But you have no choice, the ponies are just relying on their initial reactions to a possible alien threat that could wipe out their entire population.

Though the memories still hurt as they echo in your mind. They, the ponies, have changed you. For better or for worse is debatable, especially since the ridicule you received when you first arrived now dwindles out like a candle losing it’s bright ambience. You’d think you’d get over them, but the horrifying phrases fire back when they can snag the opportunity to meddle with your brain.

“Mommy, why does that ape live in Ponyville?”

“I don’t know, maybe you should ask the ponies who defended her.”

That mother.

Your teeth grind together in opposite directions as you recall the mother’s response. She didn’t even reprimand the child when she was a mere foot away from her. Instead, the mother chose her side, using indirect hatred to paint her views of you. Did she think you couldn’t hear her? Doubtedly. She probably wanted you to hear it because you’re the Ape of Ponyville, a title given to you by many who wants you to leave. You can’t blame the child though, it’s more of the mother that condones that behavior is what bothers you.

The other part of you is glad that she mentioned those who defended you. You remember the day quite clearly when those three brave souls stood their ground on the high scaffolding while a whole angry mob watched you from below. At the time, you were being put on a stage without a voice. You stood alone in shambles, your disheveled hair and ripped clothes showed only part of the damage while the rest of you relives the pain of being hit by several hooves at once that were beating you to a pulp. A group of three stallions and five mares surrounded you in a nearby alleyway, all wearing capes with an Equestrian flag on them. They trapped you, did their work, and then paraded you through the town, heralding that they caught the demon of Equestria. The Princess’ decision of letting a non-pony from another planet roam unsupervised without any pony watching them was being too loose according to this group’s taste.

“Join us, citizens of Ponyville, as we welcome our most valuable, foreign refugee to our wonderful, beloved town!”

According to law at the time, she didn’t have to have someone watch you. After the incident…

Well, she had three worthy characters volunteer happily at the sound of being with you. They were the ones who defended you. They stood proudly beside you and simply asked the community to give you a chance; just one, simple chance to prove yourself to them that you aren’t harmful, a plague; a lost cause. They agreed, but not with some heavy resistance against the authorities, who arrived sometime later after Princess Twilight Sparkle heard about the commotion from her friends. The guards took control of the situation and apprehended those who started this event. But they didn’t do much to them, much to the dismay of the volunteers. In your eyes, they aren’t volunteers anymore. They’re the best friends you could ever ask for.

First, you have Thunderlane: a strong, calm stallion who loves to play hoofball with you outside in the park. He’s a social bug, surprisingly. When he first met you, he couldn’t utter a single word. But as he came to your house, he was curious and warmed up to you. He even helped you with buying all the furniture that your house is now furnished with.

You have Blossomforth, a talented, kindhearted mare who knows her ways around flower patches. She also knows her ways with words as she held the angry mob off with her words of support for you. You gave her a long-winded hug that day while you cried on her shoulder. You hope someday she hooks up with Thunderlane, after all, you know that both of them have liked each other for a while; they just don’t know how to say it.

Lastly, you have Cherry Berry. She’s definitely your best friend. She has your back and supports you in almost everything, especially when nopony else wanted to let you live in town. She stood in front of the crowd and gave you unending praise. She didn’t even know you at the time, yet she did that for you. You gave her the biggest hug that day, and like Blossomforth, you cried on her neck, nuzzling her and thanking her repeatedly for saving you. The sheer thought that you were about to be thrown out because you were different struck her cold.

These three ponies have made your life brighter and more bearable than you could ever imagine. They will go through thick and thin with you. There’s just one thing that’s missing, though.

You were lonely.

Back on Earth, you had everything: friends, a supportive family, a boyfriend who loved you no matter what you did, and the best living arrangement anyone could ever ask for.

You were entitled.

Spoiled.

Given everything by the law of the land…

Looking back on your past makes you feel wrong, selfish; a lousy “rich” stain mixed in with the rest of them. You wanted everything and nothing but it, never even sparing a little recognition to those who gave and gave and gave to you all the items they could find. They were gone now, of course, reality smacking you right in the face. Now you realize that wanting everything and anything without even murmuring a simple “thank you” is not polite and realistic. You look back on it with disdain, much like the ponies that look at you with disdain. It blew your mind. Your past self should be here instead of you, but here you are as the more reformed version of what you once were. You were loaded on Earth and now you’re barely making ends meet.

What irony.

You stare out the window to try and hide the tears and the pain you’ve been holding, some have recently escaped their prisons from the last tear you shed. It’s been like this for about four months. You have been having those depressive states where you know you’re alone in a world that isn’t fit for you. They try to accommodate you in their traditions and culture, but nothing seems to work. You’re just a lone human female, lost in a world full of talking ponies that either love you for who you are…

“Don’t infect us you disease!”

“You’re a disgrace to this town!”

...or hate you for what you’re not.

You shake your head, the angry voices shouting at you from those beginnings…

Maybe they’re right. Maybe you are what they say.

A disease…

A lonesome figure of speech…

A disgra—

Enough of this berating nonsense! You’re none of that!

“I’m none of those things…” you mumble, reaffirming your mind’s encouragement as you disregard the place that you are forever trapped in, replacing it with the sight of your friends in a picture frame, huddling all together with you in a snap shot taken by Pinkie Pie; the most helpful, nondiscriminatory mare in all of the town. Beside the picture that stands upright on top of your bedstand is a stray piece of colored paper, the black text piquing your interest and the lavender and white, streaked colorization drawing your hand to it.

You pick it up and bring it to your line of sight. The strange symbols look quite similar to English. Equestrian was just… a bit more symbol oriented than English ever was: the squiggly lines meshing clearly with the shapes of all different polygons you remember seeing in your college years. Hopefully you can decipher this message; it seems important with its bold lettering and large font.

As you read the slip, your eyes widen.

“Entry to the Ponyville Carnival?”

You read on, the shock wearing you thin as you see the dates, times, and events to be held.

“Wanna come to the Carnival with us?”

“Come on, you never get out of the house!”

“It’ll be fun and you’ll be with all your friends!”

Those pleasurable cries to go out recess in the depths of your mind, echoing loudly to remind you of the reason to this little slip of joy.

Your friends are taking you to the Carnival.

…

You have no idea what to wear.

With the quickness of a cheetah, you quickly scramble to your drawers, hoping to find some clothes to wear...