He Can Shoot a Rocket From His Shooooeeeee~
Victor Silas Freeman tumbled through the air and crashed through the canopy of the Everfree forest with a massive impact, slamming into the ground and tearing a long trench into the earth with his strangely heavy and numb body.
The African American teenager sat up and groaned, rubbing his head before staring at his hand in shock. “Oh what the fuck!?” His formerly cardboard covered arm had changed, becoming a perfectly made, one hundred percent real, completely legit, robotic hand, in blue, silver, black, and white.
“Oh you’ve gotta be shittin’ me…” he muttered, standing up and examining his now slightly taller and way more cybernetic body. A quick glance at himself was all he needed, as his HUD activated in his left eye, telling him more than enough information about himself, including the state of his cybernetic systems.
Thankfully, all green. Victor sighed in relief. If any of his systems had been damaged, he’d be royally screwed if there wasn’t some place where he could fix himself up. From what his scanners told him, he was in an area positively drenched in some sort of weird energy. Shrugging, he made a note to figure out what it was later, a tiny notification popping up at the successful creation of the note. Victor, or rather, Cyborg, walked aimlessly, hoping to find some sort of civilization.
As he traveled through the heavily forested area, he tripped over a small rock, falling down and slamming his heel against the ground. Not even half a second later, a notification popped up and his foot opened, a tiny rocket blasting out from the toe of his boot and flying off to god knows where.
"Of course I can shoot a rocket from my shoe..." he muttered, righting himself and moving forth once more.
Anthro Ponies. Anthro Ponies everywhere.
This was the sight that greeted Cyborg as he strode into the town of Ponyville, the greeting sign of which he had just passed a few moments prior.
“Okay. Ponies. Got it. What I don’t get is… what’s with all a’ them looking like they’re some furry’s wet dream?” Cyborg muttered, scanning the ponies as they went about their daily business. Even though he was… well… him, none of the ponies spared him a second glance, save for a few quick second glances when they noticed his mechanical build.
One particular pony in particular ran her eyes up and down his form appreciatively, violet sunglasses raking over his form as their owner whistled in awe and stepped into his path. “Damn, whoever built you did a damn good job. Say, you’re obviously a custom job… who built you? I wanna make a request!”
Cyborg’s organic eyebrow twitched. “I ain’t an android, lady. I’m a person, just like you are. Name’s Victor Freeman. Call me Cyborg.”
Vinyl Scratch stepped back in shock, one hand coming up to scratch the back of her head sheepishly, “Right, right! Sorry big guy, it’s just… well, you look like one a’ those special worker bots up in the cities!”
Cyborg shrugged. “Well, I ain’t in a city and I ain’t gotta job, so ain’t no way I’m one’a those things. That being said, y’know any place around here that needs a good mechanic?” He raised his hands and tools popped out, “I’d really like to have a source of income that plays to my strengths.”
Vinyl’s eyes popped open until they were almost visible from behind her sunglasses, “Whoa…” She smirked at Cyborg and grabbed his free hand in a vigorous shake. “Well, metal-head, you got yourself a job! Name’s Vinyl, I’m a DJ. Need someone to help me move my stuff and fix it.”
Cyborg pulled his hand back, surprised at how trusting these ponies seemed to be. “Well, uh, thanks? I guess? Do we have any paperwork we need to do? I, uh, I don’t exactly have a citizenship here.”
Vinyl clapped him on the back, wincing slightly as she hit her hand on a corner of his frame. “Not a problem, man! It’s pretty easy to get you all set up, y’know?”
“Well, I guess, if it’s alright…” Cyborg murmured, following the rambunctious DJ through the streets of Ponyville. As he did, he scanned around the vicinity, taking note of the various slim objects carried around, each one composed of a crystalline substance his sensors couldn’t quite match with anything already in his databanks.
“Hey, Vinyl?”
“Sup, metal-head?”
“What’s all those tablets everyone’s got? None of my sensors can get a good read on them.” Cyborg asked, glancing over at Vinyl’s form.
Vinyl glanced over at Cyborg in confusion before slapping herself in the face, “Oh! Duh! You’re not from around here are you? Well, those are data tablets. They store and transmit information between each other and connect to these big crystal data storage towers all the way below Canterlot.”
Cyborg blinked, “Huh. Like computers back on earth. How do they work?”
Vinyl shrugged, “I dunno. Rune magic? I’m not much of a tech pony, big guy. I just do my music and fix my set up when it breaks. Not much else to it.”
“Alright, alright,” Cyborg muttered, “So, where are we going, anyway?... and how long before we get there? I’m getting really hungry.”
Vinyl smirked and tossed Cyborg something that she’d pulled from her hotpants. “Here, eat this if you’re so hungry.”
“.... Did you just pull that out of your…?” Cyborg stared down at the protein bar in his hands with a faint amount of bemusement, noting the lack of pockets on Vinyl.
“What? You hungry or not?”
Sighing, Cyborg ripped open the pack of honey and nuts, munching on the bar with a faint amount of distaste. “Honestly, I am hungry. I’m just a little surprised that you keep protein bars stuffed between your glutes.”
"Ah stuff it, ya big lug. Ain'tcha ever seen a mare use an improvised pocket?" Vinyl smirked at Cyborg, turning down an alleyway. Cyborg followed, well aware that ambushes normally took place in such settings. Thankfully, the alley way was clean, empty, and well lit. Vinyl noticed Cyborg's relief and patted the teenager on the shoulder. "Nah man, this is Ponyville. We don't got crime here. We just have a bunch of weird shit happen every few weeks. 'Course, used to be a lot more exciting back when Queen Twilight and her bodyguard— I think his name was Crow?— were here.”
Cyborg paused, “Wait, what was that about a queen?”
“Oh right, we got a queen, Her Royal Majesty Twilight Sparkle. She used to be a unicorn, like me, then she became a Princess, and then shit went down, the library got destroyed, and then the Queen got elected into position and then she hired this dude, Crow, as her bodyguard since the dude apparently killed the thing that took out the library, Tirek, I think his name was.”
Cyborg filed away this data for later, surprising himself at how quickly he’d gotten used to his new body. As he did so, he almost missed Vinyl step up to her door and unlock it, waving him inside with a casual, “Yo, big guy! We’re here!”
Cyborg stepped inside Vinyl’s surprisingly large house, immediately noticing the immense amount of litter decorating seemingly every surface, save for the kitchen, the doorways, the couch, and what Cyborg could only assume was Vinyl’s studio, from the barely visible sight of speakers and synthesizers inside.
“... Y’know, I almost expected your house to look like this.” Cyborg murmured, taking in the sight that would have made any obsessive-compulsive scream in terror.
Vinyl smacked him on the back of the head, barely able to reach the much taller teenager’s head. “Ah shaddup, you. Anyway, couch is there, you can crash on it if you want. Studio’s through that door, I got a broken speaker I can’t find the problem with. Y’wanna take a look at it?”
Cyborg shrugged and walked through the door, checking out every facet of Vinyl’s set up. As he strode over to the speaker in question, he scanned its outer and inner surfaces, kneeling down and examining the opened panel in the back of the speaker. “What… the… what.”
The internal systems of the speaker seemed perfectly fine, although some of the connectors had loosened due to immense amounts of earth shaking bass. As Cyborg fixed the connections with barely half a thought, he turned to the rest of the speakers, idly examining them for differences in structure and overall build.
And then he noticed the most idiotic thing.
“Vinyl! Can you come here a second?” Cyborg called, staring at the problem in question.
Vinyl rushed through the door, already asking if he’d fixed her speaker yet.
“Yo, sup big guy? Is my speaker fixed yet?”
“No, because it never needed fixing in the first place!” Cyborg bonked Vinyl lightly atop her head, just behind her horn. Then he motioned to the cord plugging the speaker into the wall. Or rather, he pointed at the plug that had fallen out of the wall socket and was now laying in a small pile of dust and cobwebs.
Vinyl stared and then smacked herself in the face hard enough to send her reeling backwards. “Dammit! I am such an idiot! I can’t believe I never thought to check the sockets!”
Cyborg patted the furious artist on the back, “Well, I mean, the socket’s pretty out of the way, and it’s behind another speaker, so… I dunno, how long’ve you been try’na fix it?”
“‘Bout a day and a half,” Vinyl muttered.
“See? Ain’t that bad. Now if you’d’a gone on for over a week, that woulda been stupid.” Cyborg sat against a wall, idly scratching his belly. “So, you got any food? I mean, I am still stayin’ with you, right?”
Vinyl cringed and looked in the general direction of her kitchen. “Yyeeaahhhhh…. might be a problem with the first part.”
“..... Your fridge is empty isn’t it.” Cyborg deadpanned.
“What!? N- okay, yeah….” Vinyl slumped over and facepalmed again. “I was so caught up with you that I forgot to start grocery shopping.”
“Well, we still got time, yeah?” Cyborg stood and plugged the speaker back in, “I don’t see what’s the problem. We could just go back out and get some food right now, couldn’t we? It’s still… uh… hey, what time is it anyway?”
Vinyl blinked and pulled a slimmer object from her bra, checking the time. “It’s uh… half past four. Why?”
Cyborg tapped his electronic eye, explaining, “Well, I kinda crash landed in the forest a little bit outside a’ town, and my clock was flashing a bunch of zeroes at me, so I figured I’d set it.”
“Huh, learn somethin’ new everyday,” Vinyl mumbled, idly leaning against the wall.
The two sat in companionable silence for a moment longer, until Cyborg’s stomach let out a truly horrific growl and Vinyl collapsed in laughter.
“Yeah yeah, laugh it up, blue-brain.” Cyborg glared at Vinyl playfully, standing and heading for the door. “Hey, so what are we even gonna do for food? Also, this might sound weird, but d’you, by any chance… eat meat here?”
Vinyl shrugged, “Eh, not a lot of it going around here, but there’s a few places for it. Still, there’s a burger joint on the corner of Main and Fifth, so, if you wanna, we can go get some if you want.”
“Sounds great, let’s go!”
And thus, the two friends ventured forth on the holy quest for burgers.
