The Last Dream

by QuintupletPony

Rating: everyone
Tags: Random, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Pinkie Pie, Twilight Sparkle
Length: 1368

Pinkie Pie likes to talk about how our perceived reality is really all in our heads.

Pinkie Pie has the urge to but out some metaphysical phrases. Will Twilight put up with this philosophical nonsense or send Pinkie off to the hospital... again.

Published 2012-04-30 09:34:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-04-30 09:34:02 UTC

To Bump This Up to 1000 Words

Sorry for the out of place stuff... FIMFiction will only let me publish this if it's 1000 words. I don't want this story to really continue so... Have some Halo Ponies!

Richard stood silently in the darkness of a small room, more of a closet that connected to two rooms. A small widow was set into each of the doors, giving a good view outside, a poor one inside. Various clutter was stored inside, cobwebs decorated the corners, and dust sat in a thick layer on every surface. Richard was sure that if he didn’t have his helmet on he would be sneezing every five seconds. The aliens in the other room chatted amongst themselves. Only one other knew where he was; the rest thought he was still in his coma. He noticed a purple one who didn’t seem to be taking part in the conversation, trying instead to read a book. For some reason Richard couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Maybe that had to do with the odd stripes in her mane, or the unique tattoo adorning her flank-- or the fact she was levitating her book. At noticing this, Richard did a double-take.

Were these alien able to use some form of low-level telekinesis? It would explain how they were able to build all this hospital machinery, which they would never be able to do with their hooves. Could they all use telekinesis? Richard looked closer. Only the purple one seemed to use it… wait, no, now the white one had? Richard wanted to observe more, but he needed to get moving. He had already had Redheart fill him in on the Ponies’ government: two princess Ponies supported by a cabinet of trusted advisors. They seemed to have maintained an idyllic peace, from what little he had seen.

He went into a different room of the hospital. Having memorized its layout from a diagram shown to him by Redheart-she was proving herself invaluable- he knew exactly where to go. He heard voices from farther off, huskier than the mainly female voices he had been hearing. That must be one of the male doctors.

“Well I think the new advances in magical precision will allow a far greater number of important operations to be performed more safely; it simply will define the new age of medicine.”

The other doctor looked at him, a slightly disgruntled look on his face.

“It’s my personal belief that these new reforms are trying to promote a pro-unicorn medical system. What they need to do is develop more technologies in the way of the Earth Ponies! I feel like I’m going to lose my job to a unicorn any day!”

At this the other pony scoffed, rolling his eyes a bit.
“They won’t fire you! You’ve got one of the most secure positions here! You really should be happier that all these previously untreatable ponies are getting the services they need!”

At this the second pony hung his head low, mumbling un-enthusiastic apologies.
Of course Richard heard none of this, having already moved past the two bickering professionals. He advanced cautiously but quickly through the facility, using every back-corridor and side hallway he could. He was absolutely fascinated by the whole structure, it was normal in almost every way, yet another aspect the two species shared.
He knew he had to leave the hospital, and meet up with Redheart at the location she had described. Past that though he had no idea where to go or what to do, they had always told him that was his biggest flaw in training; plotting one step just in time for the next. Would he ever meet his team again? Headhunter Phalanx Team, ONI’s secret weapon against the covenant, a secret even to his fellow Spartan III’s. He was so caught up in thought he didn’t notice the small, yellow pony in front of him until he smacked into her. She turned and shrieked, the small noise ripping the air; she then turned and ran underneath a nearby bench, tail between her legs. For just a moment Richard was tempted to comfort her, but he quickly shook off the emotion, not knowing what had come over him. But her shrieks and whimpers could attract other Ponies, drawing unwanted attention to Richard. So did he run, calm, or eliminate? Hearing several worried voices from down the hole he chose the former, rushing through a different corridor.

But the Ponies would now know he was awake, the yellow one would obviously recognize him and raise the alarm; they would know he wasn’t in the coma. The last place he wanted to be was inside an enemy fortification with no clear way out. He looked for an alternate route to the one he had been using; the only thing he saw was a long hallway with windows at the end, potted trees spaced every few feet down its length. Wait? Windows! The answer seemed obvious now; he was only on the third floor, and a drop like this he would barely feel! He dashed over to the window, prying away the screws that held it in place, throwing away the remainder outside where it used to be. He took a look at the ground outside, thanking it for the lush grass that would cushion his fall. Richard jumped headfirst out of the window, the wind blowing harshly against him, the ground rushing up to meet him. He performed an expert roll, tucking himself into a ball and rolling with the force.

Unexpectedly he smacked into a pair of Ponies, a blue one with minty mane and a white one with multi-colored poofs in her mane. The white one shrieked and bolted, screaming all the way. The blue one however just stood there in shocked silence. Richard accounted this to her flight or fight reaction, she must have just not have been able to handle the shock. He stood quickly and was just about to run when he felt a mass knock into him. He was knocked to the ground by the considerable force, his head pushed down by strong hooves. He felt something… fondling his hands?

“Hands! Oh thank Celestia I’m not crazy! They do exist; the guys over in Canterlot will never believe this!”

Richard, slightly distressed, forced the Pony off his back with his strength; immediately trying to sprint away. The mint Pony wouldn’t be denied, rushing at Richard and tackling him once again. She grabbed his hands again, tugging on the hard enough to dislocate Richard’s shoulder.

“Darn hands! WHY WON’T THEY COME OFF THESE WRISTS?!”

With a final effort Richard jolted her off, grabbing her with his good hand and throwing her to the side. She flew through the air, the angle providing Richard a good view of her horn as it lit up.

The Last Dream

The Last Dream
What is a thought but a dream?
What is a dream but a thought? What does it matter if it is a dream? What does it matter if it is not a dream? A dream is only the projection of reality without our eyes limiting an infinite vision of creation, of untold sights and sounds and smells and tastes, without using our eyes or ears or noses or tongues.
So in a different kind of sense reality is anything we dream it to be, and a dream is whatever reality really is. The waking world is more fake than anything we experience in a dream, we are clouded by the clouds and the sun, and the stars and the moon, and the planets and the galaxies, and all else that lies between us and the void.
Laid bare.
Open for any prying creature that remains when everything else we perceive as real is gone and our minds replace them with the vision we contain in our own heads, in our own thoughts, and what is a thought but a dream?
“Pinkie?”
“Yes Twilight?”
“You’re doing that thing again.”
“OOPS! Sorry!”
“Just, ah, try to keep it to yourself next time, I don’t want you to be checked back into the hospital… again.”
“Okeey-Dokeey-Lokey!”