failure. failure. failure. i'm nothing but a FAILURE!!!! the void was awful. not even the spirit of death could breach the inky blackness, leaving him to fester in his guilt. i choked. i lost a battle. all my men... they died as well. curses. if he still had a fist, he would smash down. not that it would help. but the supreme one would not leave him here. the supreme one, blessed be he, would give him new life. oh wait. he already did. he was given supremacy... wait. is it that simple? do i simply have to will it, and it will be so? deep in his (nonexistent) heart, he knew it to be so.
life. am i... alive? i slowly cracked open an eye, and i was met with a rather strange sight. a hor- no. a pony, wearing a doctors uniform.
"welcome to the world, little guy!" he said with an overly happy voice. "congratulations, ms. jujube! it's a beautiful colt!" i felt myself being handed (or is it hoofed?) over to someone else. presumably the pony who gave birth to me. a light purple mare with dark pink hair, who looked about 29, grabbed me with a feat of amazing flexibility, and held me up the face.
"oh, he's beautiful Dr. house! thank you for your help." i always thought it was impossible for horses to smile, but here was a whole room full of them. "why isn't he crying? doesn't that usually mean that they're dead?"
i heard a spluttering that probably came from the doctor. "u-usually yes, but i can assure you that your foal is perfectly healthy."
"well, it doesn't matter. i think i'm going to name you... onslaught." i think i still have a bit of fluid in my ear. i heard her say my name. my actual name! not some stupid pony name, but my real name! holy shit!
"really, ms. jujube? that's what you want to name him? okay?" what followed afterwards was the usual boringness. paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork. really boring. eventually, she strapped me to her back, and we were off.
...or not quite.
"hey jujube!" i heard a voice, with an southern drawl, and i immediately didn't like it.
"oh, hey, apple." wow. they must not be on good terms. "how've you been?"
"oh i've been just great. little mac is a bit of a handful, but you know how it is. Ahhhhh!" some how, she put both hooves on her face and squeed without falling down. "is that your little bundle of joy!?"
"yeah... you know, preggers." i couldn't see, what with me being strapped to her back, but i'm pretty sure she looked away from the mystery mare named apple.
"so you still don't know who the father is?" a look of concern mixed with pity adorned apples face.
"...yeah. i'll be seeing you." without another word, jujube, simply walked away.
our house was ugly. i was sure that it was supposed to be more functional than beautiful, but still. the first chance i get i'm gonna spruce this place up.
"well, we're home! woohoo!" she doesn't seem very enthusiastic about it. she must hate this place too.
...is that a crib?
it's a crib.
fuck.
