Yes, Father, I shall become ...a unicorn?
The last scion of the Wayne family sat in the living room, his thoughts flowing slowly in his head as he bled out on the upholstery of an antique armchair. He could call for Alfred, his ever loyal butler before he'd bleed out to death, but still he hesitated. His failure haunted him.
He trained for this since he was but a child. He had mastered skills of body and mind, mundane sciences and arcane arts, and still in his first attempt to use it to better his city he has nearly failed. Thus, on a border of life and death, half delirious from the blood loss he sat and contemplated.
I cannot do this, father. I cannot do this as a man of flesh and blood... I need to become a symbol. But of what?
The night stayed silent.
Please Father, give me a sign!
There was a crash, and a sound of broken glass behind him, a response to his feverish midnight prayer. With the last of his strength he turned to the great mirror he knew was behind him, and instead saw ten thousand splintered bits of glass strewn across the floor, and in the middle of that - a tiny yellow unicorn. For the rest of his life, Bruce Wayne would remember the last thought he had before succumbing to the darkness of his wounds, a singular crystal-clear resolution from the core of his mind:
"Enope"
His awakening was instant, wave adrenaline rousing the trained, if damaged, body at the first sign of attack. Then something slapped him in the face again, his wounded hands refusing to raise to the command of the frayed nerves.
"You awake, ape-thing?" He saw no one in front of him, but whatever it was that woke him had a girlish, childish voice.
Green flashed and he felt another slap burn his cheek - in his contemplation he hesitated to answer, so whoever it was kept his wake-up attempts, crude as they were.
"Yes", he croaked, his throat parched and raw.
"Good" below him, the unicorn pony sat on its haunches. "I've closed the wounds, but I have no idea what the dry hay you're supposed to be, so I couldn't fix you up proper. You probably ain't gonna die, but I'd rather not start in a new world with a fresh corpse, so - do you have anyone you can call for help?"
As far as deathbed hallucinations went, this was very helpful, if somewhat crass.
"The bell".
Bruce pointed weakly to the bell by the chair, noticing for the first time thin translucent green manacles, binding his wrist to stop the bleeding. They seemed to emanate from the filly's - and it was a filly, if judging by the voice was appropriate - horn.
Another tendril of green light grasped the bell and shook it, producing the soft silvery chime. Bruce closed his eyes, and concentrated. He knew to slow his pulse when wounded - an autohypnotic method he learned in the Tian Shan mountains. His breathing grew deep and slow, and his heart rate slowed conserving the now precious blood.
Consumed by his inner world he never heard Alfred's arrival, until the butler's voice announced his presence.
"Forgive me, Master Bruce, but I believe there is a small yellow horse by your side. May I presume to take it to the stable, or shall I attend to your wounds first?"
"Banda..." he tried to give Alfred needless instructions, but he was interrupted.
"Wow. Listen up, you ancient bald monkey". For the first time in recorded history Alfred Pennyworth was rendered speechless. Even the famous British stiff upper lip and dry wit not sufficient to prepare him for a talking horse. "I am not an "it", I am a "she". And I am not a horse, you racist prick, I am an Equestrian little pony. A unicorn to be precise, and even more precisely - a unicorn who is saving this ugly shaved baby-minotaur from bleeding to death in ten seconds flat. So unless everyone in this dumb dimension has a terminal case of duchebaggery and dickishness, you will shut the fuck up, bandage this ugly critter, and bring me a tulip sandwich."
Alfred, still too shocked scurried away.
"I swear, I try to be nice one, single last time, for old time's sake, and that is what I bucking get", the filly muttered, "And no bucking crust on the sandwich, or I swear to Celestia somebody is getting slapped like a silly bitch they are!" she hollered down the hall.
She devoured tulips messily, red petals flying everywhere, as Alfred bandaged his master. There was little to be said, as both tried to digest whatever it was that transpired.
"Allright, that was adequate." The mollified filly burped loudly, patting her tummy. "Now where's the nearest exit? I have Princesshood awaiting for me somewhere in this weird-ass place."
"... I don't think it's a good idea to go outside. Especially at night." Bruce ventured, recovering slowly "You'd probably be hunted as a zoological curio, if not murdered outright"
She scoffed.
"Puh-lease. I've been in my share of adventures, and I think I know how to handle myself in rough spots." She opened the window, and surrounded by now-familiar green glow levitated slowly out. "So long and thanks for all the fish"
There was silence in the room, as both watched the flying unicorn with pensive, and somewhat somber detachment.
"If I am permitted to say, Master Bruce, the talking and magic I could live with. The Douglas Adams reference - that, I did not expect".
"Neither did I, old friend. Neither did I."
The men have barely taken care of the disarray left by the bleeding and the broken mirror, when the blinding flash has split apart the darkness of the room, revealing the yellow unicorn. She was foaming at the sides and panting, her eyes scanning frantically for threats that may lurk in the shadows of the room.
"This dimension is bucking insane!" she panted, leaning against the closed doors. "Millions of crazy apes, and all of them out to fricking get me! Celestia's tits, its like they never seen a unicorn in their life!"
"They probably..." Bruce started, but the unicorn didn't listen, marching straight to the arch where the mirror she appeared from used to be
"Buck this. I'm leaving. Even Celestia's famous two-hour lecture can't be as bad as this shithole...." she stopped. "Wait a bucking minute. Where the buck is my mirror? What the hay did you studpid apes do?!"
Alfred raised the scoop with the last shards of mirror.
"I believe it broke when you appeared"
"FUCK!", the unicorn shouted her rage, "Fuckity-fuck-fucking-fuck. With a fucking cherry on the fucking top!". Her magic - sharp green light of it, slashed out, smashing the brick wall behind the mirror arch to bits.
"Miss, there is really no call for such foul language..."
The unicorn choked for a second, and gave the butler a long "are you fucking kidding me" glance, before she took a breath and began a long, tirade. It listed every possible quality and combination of characteristics that made even the former SAS-sergeant nod in appreciation of the inventiveness of it, and then went thought with the multi-species ancestry of every ape in the world and the very dimension she was currently residing, the sexual positions they should explore and arcane and downright uncomfortable places they should do it in.
"... and your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries," she finished, finally out of breath. "That's the language, which this situation fucking calls for, so consider yourself fucking blessed that I am fucking only using the world "fuck".
She took another breath,.
"Fuck." she added, after a second, now almost resigned, and kicked the nearest piece of rubble sadly.
Silence reigned in the room, until Bruce cleared his throat.
"You could stay here, for now," he suggested carefully. It was entirely not what he had ever planned, but if he has learned anything in his travel, that was to expect the unexpected and to adapt to the impossible. "I'm sure something can be figured out for later."
She sighed.
"Fine." She kicked another bit of rubble, "I need copious amounts of sugar to process this shit. Do you have, like a cake? Or apple cider?"
Some cookies and processing time later
"Allright" the filly slowed down her extermination of the cookie reserves of the Wayne manor for a second. "I think I can work with this dimension. I mean, really, feese cookies are amafthing." she stuffed her mouth with another hooffull "Hfat fid you fuf in fere, Jeeves, crack cocaine? 'Cause I am down with this shit"
"Glad to hear that." Bruce noted dryly "Alfred, will you prepare the room for our guest please?"
"Master Bruce, are you sure that this is wise? After all, this is hardly a regular guest, especially with your newfound... hobby."
"Why, fuck you too, you dead-eyed little bastard"
"Now listen here, young lady". The butler did not raise his voice, but somehow the threat was telegraphed rather clearly. "You've saved young master's life, and we both owe you much, but this behavior will not stand in this house. Is that clear? If you promise to behave yourself, and lay off the swearing, we would be most happy to accommodate you for however long you would wish to stay."
"And if I don't? The glorious leader here already allowed me to stay, so nya." She stuck her tongue at the butler.
"There shall be no more pomegranate cookies for you."
They stared at each other for a few seconds, until the unicorn gave up and dropped to her haunches, deflated.
"Straight for the nuclear option, huh, Jeeves? Fine, I give up." she stretched out her hoof towards him. He shook it gingerly. "Peace?"
"My name is Alfred Pennyworth, but you may just call me Alfred."
"Shimmer. Sunset Shimmer, and you may just call me "The most awesome being to ever grace this dimension"."
