Author's Note

Keep in mind this is primarily a SoL story. I haven't written very far out, just a few more chapters, but the pace will probably continue for another 10 to 15 or so before we start getting into time skips. I plan on putting one out every 3-4 days, but they definitely won't always be this long.

Chapter 10: Talk

Wednesday, September 3rd, 908 AB

Deed is just a little ways away from his first wife and son before her ears rotate his direction, followed by her head, eyes, and a bright smile. The colt is entirely too absorbed by his books to notice until Vines starts to get up to greet Deed, but Cure jumps up and joins in the affectionate greetings once she stirs.

Once the nuzzles and smooches are passed around the family lays back under the tree, Vines on the left, their son sandwiched in the middle, and Deed taking the right. "So, been busy, I see," he says, looking over the books and the sprawled open notebook, "whatcha been up to all day?"

"Well first we went to the library, then the grocery. I got talked down to by a really helpful unicorn supremacist, then convinced dam to buy us all some tuna," Cure rattles off as Vines' eyes begin to widen. Before she can get a word in he continues, "next she made me run all the way home to the point I was nearly falling over, then I explained how the princess is just a big unicorn that makes ponies grovel before her huge horn. Well dam didn't agree with that so after I fled outside she took my notebook away, ran around the yard like a crazy pony, and slammed me into the tree after I asked how much she weighs," he points at the alleged tree victim, "and then made me do all kinds of tests and pushed me around. Fortunately I was able to talk her out of beating me with a stick, barely, though we do need to dispose of some grass with my blood on it. I'm so glad you're here to save me from her tyranny." he finishes with a beaming smile up at his father.

Nodding along the whole time Deed smiles back down at his son as he finishes his story. "Wow, sounds like you had a busy day, sport. I can't say I recommend asking about a mare's weight, though. That'll earn you a good whack on the best of days." Pausing, Deed tilts his head to the side and finishes with, "oh yeah, you just maaay wanna be a little careful with the whole sedition" he adds in hoof air-quotes "thing too. Maybe."

Vines leans down and gives Cure's ear another bite while growling, "Slammed you into a tree? Ran around like I'm crazy? Colt I never even considered beating you with a stick… before now." Releasing his ear she smiles innocently back at Deed, who was, coincidentally, looking away and whistling for the last few seconds. "So how was your day, honey? Did our troublesome son's ideas help you today?"

Lighting up Deed turns and wraps his forelegs around his son, "Like you wouldn't believe! Colt, I'll tell you what, if your dam can't stop abusing you at home you just come into work with Title and me and see what a difference your suggestion has made!" He sets Cure down and ignores the daggers Vines is staring at him.

After planting a big kiss between Cure's ears he continues, "I'll let Title tell you about her day, but I swear it was like a switch in my head flipped when I started running magic through my cutie marks. You were spot on with your guess this morning. The right words just came to me. I knew just what to say to the homeowners that came in looking for a real estate pony. In one day I got half a dozen homes newly listed. Title herself even pointed out how much more organized and efficient my work was, too. I’m going to be honest, here son… staying organized just isn’t a strength for me normally. The highlight of the day was the sale I made just before I came home. Title is busy drawing up the closing paperwork for everypony to sign tomorrow morning, so she'll be home soon. Son," he pauses to put his hoof on Cure's withers. Cure meets his sire's eyes and can almost feel the pride and gratitude radiating off of him, "I'm not sure I can rightly put into words how much this will change our lives for the better."

Deed pauses to let out a deep breath before steeling himself to continue. "You're smarter than any young colt could probably be and with all your knowledge and experience from before, I have no doubt you put two and two together pretty quick, so I'll just come right out and say it. Your dam and I were too young to have foals when we found out that you were on the way… but we loved, and still love, each other very much. The first few years, especially, were not easy. We didn't starve or anything but … there was not much left in the budget each month, let's just say that."

Deed wipes his face with a fetlock while Vines moves over and leans against him. "Now I certainly don't want to make it sound like any of that was because of you or that we've regretted any part of it for even a second, but you're mature enough to understand all that," he gets a small nod from Cure and continues, "My point is that we struggled for years and held off on giving you any brothers and sisters until we knew we could do better. Things didn’t start improving much until Title and I started working together, and we just all clicked so well we could finally think about growing our family,” he says with a big smile.

“Title taking over the office while I took over the talking part of the job helped a lot, but today? In one day I had as much success in my work as I could hope for in a month. I represented twenty seven families buying or selling their homes last year. Those six new clients would normally take me weeks to find. Ponies usually meet with at least three or four agents before they pick the one to represent them. Everypony that walked in my door today walked out a client. I was on fire today and I can feel it's just the start!" Deed was sitting up fully now looking off into the distance.

Cure was pretty sure his sire actually was glowing a little. He certainly looked ready to take on the world. Cure took a step closer, reared back, and held his forelegs wide for a hug. Deed scooped him up and held him to his chest, rocking back and forth.

"I totally understand, dad,” Cure says into his father’s chest. “When I met Cyndi she already had Kynzie and Josh from her ex. I had saved enough that we could get a house, but just barely." He pauses as he’s set back down. "Well we both worked and got by, but we had the same problem. She had her kids young. I was two years younger than her. We were so busy with work and the kids we knew adding a baby just wouldn't go well. Eventually, Cyndi started having problems. She'd be in pain, especially after… you know… and then she started bleeding. Just bleeding all the time. Human women don't go into estrus, they menstruate on a monthly cycle, so they normally only bleed a few days when the cycle restarts." Cure is amused at the grossed out faces of his parents. "Yeah, it grosses out humans just as much. Anyhow, the long and the short of it is that after trying a hundred different things and Cyndi just suffering for years she ended up having to get a hysterectomy. Kids were no longer an option, so I redoubled my commitment to the two she already had." Letting out a deep sigh, Cure finishes, "I know exactly what it's like to have kids too early and I also know what it’s like to wait, so take an old man's advice and don't wait any longer. There will never be a perfect time, but there's definitely too late."

"That's good advice, son. We'll be sure to get in lots of practice before spring rolls around."

Cure’s ears pin back automatically at the thought. "Gross. I wonder if I can turn off my ears at night." Cure shakes the thought out of his head. "Look, I told Title this the other day and I want to be clear with both of you as well, the best way I can think to deal with this," he waves at his mark, "is to keep anything medical or health related completely and totally professional. That means no teasing, joking, making fun, sarcasm, or anything else. Understand?" he asks, meeting his dam’s and sire’s eyes.

"Yeah… that sounds like the mature thing to do. Where are you going with this, son?" Deed asks.

"Well, when the time comes if you want another colt or a filly specifically I suspect that's something I can affect. In mammals it's the father that contributes either the X chromosome, resulting in a female, or the Y chromosome for a male. I can't do anything after conception… or, if I can I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t… but well, before the act, I can more than likely either force your body to only produce viable X or Y sperm so there's only really one or the other present when you have at it."

Vines is aware of Title wanting a colt, so Cure has her full attention.

"Son… you do realize that tons of families have foal after foal just trying to get one colt, don't you?" Deed asks. At Cure's nod he continues, "it's not the case with Title and I; we all just fell in love, but if I was looking for another mare the fact my only foal is a colt would attract a lot of attention from well-to-do families with too many mares to marry off. I can't tell you how many mares were asking me just to stud for them after you were born."

"What? Really? That's a thing?"

"It is, sweetie. It's a pretty important job for the whole country. There's simply not enough stallions and so many mares end up asking friends for help. There wouldn't be enough foals born for the country to survive without them. I thought it was a good idea but your father said he didn't want to go through the whole licensing process, and we didn’t personally know any of these mares so we had no way of knowing if they could provide for a foal. I understand it to be a little unpleasant to get a professional license," Vines answered. With a small smile she points out, "though earth ponies, especially, are in very high demand each season."

"That's right son, though you don't need to worry about anymare grabbing you off the street and having her wicked way with you for at least another five or six years,” Deed jokes.

Vines whacks Deed on the shoulder and waves a hoof at him growling, "Don't you go perpetuating that silly myth! You know that doesn't happen at all." Turning back to Cure she assures him, "That's just a dumb joke stallions like to make. Mares don't turn into stallion-hungry crazies or anything else like that. We just get that needy feeling and maybe inhibitions go down a tad, honey. Nopony will grab you off the street, but it's not unusual for a mare to approach a stallion she thinks will give her a healthy foal if she's single or in a mare-only relationship… or if her stallion has a medical problem. That's perfectly acceptable and you can always say no."

"Humans have an actual part of the government that forces absent parents to provide financial support for children when parents separate or just are never actually together. Does that exist here too?"

"Sure does, son. RFSOA. The Royal Foal Support Order Administration or "rafsau". They manage all that stuff, but foals from an official studding agreement are exempt. Mares have to go through a bit of pre-screening and paperwork to get approved to hire a professional stud, but there's forms by the hooffull at every city hall in the country for the normal studding requests from friends. The mare and the stud just go down and sign the form in front of an official and they're all set. He's off the hook and there's an official copy in the records if something comes up later. It's rare, but sadly some mares have tried to get money from studs if they're well off.”

"That's true and is quite the black mark on the mare and her family if it's found out. The last thing anypony wants to see is stallions refusing to stud en masse. The government will come down hard on mares abusing the situation," Vines adds.

“It’s so weird to me. It makes sense, but this is sooo different from Earth whereas most other stuff has been very similar. I mean, the polygamy is a bit unusual, but it’s not unheard of on Earth.” Shrugging, Cure continues, “I guess it’s just strange to me that a mammal species has so many more females than males… but it sounds like there’s an effective system in place to make up for the deficit, so whatever."

Cure thinks for a second and runs the whole situation through his mind a few times. "I've got another question… say a stallion did stud for some mares around here… how would somepony like me know, like fifteen or twenty years later, that some mare I meet isn't my half sister?” he asks with a cringe. “I can't imagine everypony walks around with a copy of their family tree on them to compare with somepony they want to jump in bed with… and do studs' foals know who their sire is?"

"The smell," Deed answers immediately. "You don't have any siblings so you haven't realized it yet but when you do meet somepony and they have a scent about them that puts you off you'll know something isn't right. Don't ignore that feeling. That's how you can tell that's not a potential mate. Trust me, you'll know it when you smell it."

"It's that noticeable?" Cure asks.

"It really is, sweetie. Sometimes you'll meet a mare and just know, like your sire says. It is a massive and immediate turn off. It'll be something you notice when you start to hit puberty. You'll know right away and your body will react quite strongly," Vines agreed.

"Huh… weird. Humans have a very weak sense of smell, so I guess that's just something I'll have to learn. Hey, earlier you said that earth ponies are in high demand… is there a difference in fertility rates or something? Do pegasus and unicorn stallions have a more difficult time impregnating a mare?”

Snickering, Deed leans over to Vines and says, “You could say that. Hey, honey, tell our son why everypony wants an earth pony.”

With red-tinted ears Vines looks away and mumbles something under her breath.

Cure looks at his father with a raised eyebrow.

“What was that, honey? I don’t think the colt heard you,” he says as he pokes her with his snout while smiling broadly.

Now glowing even redder she shifts her hooves back and forth a little and softly says, “size”.

“HAHAHA! You tell em babe!” Deed shouts. “Ya see son, earth ponies are a lot bigger than unicorns and, especially, pegasus, right?” He says while wagging his eyebrows.

“I think I see where this is going. Yes, father…” Cure flatly replies.

“Well, my boy, imagine, if you can, a unicorn standing here between me and yer dam. About how tall do you think that unicorn is, hmm?”

“Well the one we met at the library was about a half hoof shorter than dam…”

“Right, and that there’s about as tall as they normally get. Now imagine a pegasus standin here between us. How tall?”

“Heavy’s mom, Spring Showers… she’s probably about another hoof and a half shorter.”

“Yep, mares are usually a tad shorter than stallions. Well to sum it all up, son, a unicorn is going to be a little awkwardly short to be studding with an earth pony mare and, as you can imagine, a pegasus stallion is going to be about one and a half to two hooves shorter than an average earth pony mare. You do the math, son.”

“So basically you’re saying the sex is going to be awkward because the mare’s going to be so much taller than the stallion.”

“Not just taller, colt. Hey you see that maple seed on the ground behind ya?” Cure turns around and picks up the helicopter seed and holds it up. Deed turns sideways and stomps a hole in the ground just beside and a bit behind himself, then looks back to Cure. “Alright, son, now go ahead and put that seed in the ground over here.”

Confused as hell, Cure starts to take a step forward before Deed sticks his hoof out and stops him. Baffled, he looks up at his father. “I didn’t say you could walk any closer. Go ahead and put the seed in the hole from there,” he says while smiling.

“Umm… I can’t reach it. Maybe I could” Deed waves his hoof before Cure can get the thought off.

“What was that first part?” Deed asks while leaning forward.

Cure really doesn’t want to answer, but does anyhow. With a put upon sigh he finally says, “I can’t reach it, dad.”

“Well. Maybe if your leg was longer you could, but I guess that seed just isn’t meant to go in the hole, is it?” he asks while laughing and poking at the colt. “Now you know how all them unicorns and pegasus feel when they jump on an earth pony mare! HAHAHA!”

“CLEAN DEED!” Vines whacks him across the shoulder a few times while yelling at him.

“The boy needs to know, Vines. He ain’t some ignorant colt, he knows what’s what!”

“Oh my Celestia,” Vines mutters as she covers her face with her fetlocks. Cure glances at her for a second just to note that she’s almost glowing crimson. Weird that she could go from green to red. That can’t possibly be natural. Some kind of aura thing?

Drawing Cure’s attention back to himself, Deed continues, “Now, the problem goes both ways, son. You see, take a small space in our house like the closet, okay?”

“Uhh… yeah?”

“Now, imagine somepony’s told yer pa to go ahead and stand inside of that closet.” He starts marching in place with all four hooves, then stops, miming being in a small box “I’m supposed to go in there and be able to move around. How well do ya think that would go?”

“Not well, I’d reckon.”

“Nope. Too big a pony in too small a room isn’t fun for anyone. Right uncomfortable, it is, even without trying to move around too much. Heck, if the doorways are too small maybe a big strong earth pony like yer pa can’t even get in the closet in the first place. The doorway’s just too narrow for my wide, muscular frame, ya see.” Deed flexes his chest.

“Oh my God…” Cure mumbles.

“That’s right son, you got it now. Now just keep in mind that if the door’s too small and the homeowner is insisting a pony go in the closet anyhow then that pony may just get wedged in the doorway, and if they’re really insistent and push too hard… well, door frames break before ponies do, son. And nopony wants to see a broken door frame.”

Deed leans down so his muzzle is right above Cure’s ears. He very slowly says to his son, “Just keep that in mind, young colt. If some pretty pegasus mare flutters her ‘lil feathers at you, ya gotta be reeeeeeeeeeeeal careful when you decide you wanna go see what she keeps in that closet. Okay? You may need to get a little oil for the ‘ol coat, ya know…” he says, sliding a hoof over his shoulder all smooth-like, “it helps ya get yer shoulders in the door… otherwise maybe the best you can really do is, well… “ leaning down he lowers his head so it’s barely off the ground and slowly moves it forward, then makes a point of moving his eyes around searchingly, “poke yer head in and take a peek. And if yer tryin to put that maple seed on the shelf aaalllllll the way in the back of the closet, ya gotta be able to fit in more than just yer head, son.” He leans back up and smiles at his son, then winks.

“Dad… dude. You’re as subtle as a brick to the face, you know that?” Cure glances at his dam again and can’t hold back a snort. She’s standing there, eyes big as saucers, jaw hanging open, red as a stop sign from eartips to hooves. Is that smoke or steam coming out of her mane? He makes note that the grass under her is actually wilting a little bit… so probably steam.

I should probably go get her some water to rehydrate. Also, maybe her theory about being able to change temperature with the TK aura was true after all. I should add a note.

Looking at his notebook for a second, Cure misses the moment when Vines full-body tackles Deed. Rolling on the ground laughing himself silly, Deed barely manages to get out a “see, son! She can’t get enough of me! Even out in public she’s all over yer pa! This ain’t nothin, though, just you wait till spring! Stars have mercy!” while he’s defending himself from the onslaught of jabs and punches, all the while she’s yelling different versions of “I can’t believe you” and “He’s barely eight years old” and so forth.

Shaking his head, Cure wanders back over to his notebook and the library books and settles back down. He glances at the anatomy book and decides to forego that one for now.

I sure as hell don’t need to have some picture of a nutsack opened up when dam comes back over here. I don’t want her removing dad’s for corrupting her baby or anything.

After a few minutes of roughhousing Deed and Vines resume their previous positions on either side of their colt. Deed is still smiling broadly, so apparently he’s no worse for wear. Vines’ coat and mane have returned to their normal dark green and yellow respectively… mostly. Her ears still have a bit of a pink hue to them and they’re folded back a bit more than normal. She’s obviously mortified and can’t even look in his direction, but Cure isn’t sure why. His dad definitely went a bit overboard, but he could admit that he would have cracked up if that had come out of anypony else’s mouth.

“Cure, before your dam got all abusive… which seems to be happening a lot these days…” he ignores her tail when it swats him, “you had mentioned maybe being able to make it so a stallion can only produce one sex or the other. Now I’m sure you’ve considered some of the implications if it turns out you can do that, but I want you to keep that little tidbit under wraps for… well, first until we know if you’re right, then we’ll go from there. So, a year or two? Now I’m not saying anypony would do anything, but…” he rolls his hoof in a “and so…” motion.

“Somepony would probably do something, huh?”

Grimacing a bit, Deed hesitantly nods. “Honestly son, if half the stuff you think you can do pans out, and I have no reason to doubt you can do anything you set that big ‘ol brain to, then you might as well go ahead and give yerself wings and a horn because … wait… you can’t give yourself wings and a horn can you? Don’t do that, son!” Both Vines and Deed suddenly have mini-panic attacks.

“Wasn’t planning on it, pa. I might as well walk right into the throneroom and declare myself King Sombra’s son, come to take revenge on behalf of my father.”

Breathing a sigh of relief both parents settle back down and lean in to sandwich their son again. “Yeah, that would not go so well for ya. You do not mess with powers like that lightly, colt. There tends to be a price, and you’d never have a normal day in your life again.” He blows out another big sigh then continues, “Whew. Anyway, what was I saying,” he pauses to tap at his chin for a moment, “Oh, right! There’s some bad ponies out there in the world and who knows what they’d do if they got their hooves on ya.”

“I get what you’re saying, dad. I don’t want to alarm you or anything, but keep in mind that I have the memories of almost fifty years of life on a planet that, in the last hundred and twenty years, saw more deaths in war alone than there probably are intelligent lives on this entire planet. There were nearly eight billion humans alive when I died and we lived in an unparalleled age of information freedom. I’ve been exposed to anything you can ever imagine. I know what evil looks like and what horrors an individual can commit, and I’ve seen what happens when that boil isn’t lanced early. I just don’t think a normal pony can think like I do, so if someone ever tries to take me away and make me do something I don’t want to… well, you’ll be saving them from me if you show up, not the other way around.”

“Is it weird that hearing that in a young colt's voice is somehow scarier than an adult’s would be?” Vines wonders out loud.

“Is the dichotomy of hearing the promise of violence in a voice you associate with innocence, dam. The brain spends more time processing everything because the words and the voice are such polar opposites. The difference between what’s said and what the brain expects to hear causes it to be more jarring than it would otherwise. It would be like a cute fuzzy little rabbit hopping out from behind the tree and bearing fangs as big as your hooves at you. The combination makes your brain scream “that isn’t right!” and instead of thinking, “it’s still just a little rabbit, big teeth or not” your flight response kicks up to eleven without you even thinking about it.”

Deed nods in agreement. “Yeah, that sounds about right, son.”

The three ponies are still bunched up when Title arrives a few minutes later. Vines and Cure have gotten back to reading and Deed is just laying there enjoying the quiet company. Getting a nuzzle from Vines and a greeting from everypony, she lays facing Cure, beaming a huge smile at him.

"So," he begins, "from the furious look on your face I'm assuming that using your marks at work caused the whole town to go up in flames and the entirety of the Equestrian armed services have wanted posters with my picture on them already?"

"Close!" she exclaims. "If by the whole town going up in flames you mean it worked like a charm and by the rest you mean a certain somepony's getting extra presents on his cute-ceañera then you're spot on!"

"Cute what?"

"Your cute-ceañera, ya goof. We're inviting all your little friends and classmates, and you're getting anything you want for it!" she answers.

The cute-ceañera is roughly equivalent to a human's highschool graduation party, and is NOT only for fillies, much to Cure's dismay. Ponies don't typically celebrate birthdays much beyond having something small with immediate family. Basically all pony births happen in January or in June, since estrus hits like a hammer around March/April, then some mares get a second round in September if they didn’t get knocked up earlier.

Wonder what the ponified names are that they named months and days after. I don't even care to look into it, one less thing for me to accidentally blurt out that doesn’t belong and would draw attention.

"You're not breaking the bank over this," he responds flatly. "We literally just had this conversation. You," he points at her, "are carrying my little brother or sister and until you can both see some actual realization from the deals you and dad have in the works we," he waves indiscriminately to everyone, "are maintaining our livelihood as is," he says with finality and a stern nod.

Softening his look at her pout he holds up a hoof and adds, "I get it, I really do understand the cultural significance of getting your mark… add in that I'm the first born and a male and I assume that makes it a little bit bigger deal, but still, I'll not see anypony going without so I can have some big shindig, especially with a foal on the way. We can do something small, though."

"No fun at all…" she mumbles, scraping her hoof in a circle on the ground.

"That may be partially my fault, honey. We'd just finished talking about having foals and having to wait and everything right before you got here," Deed explains. "Now don't go scowling at me, the colt is smarter than anypony you or I know. He had it all figured out before I flapped my gums once." Putting a foreleg around Cure and pulling him close, Deed continues, "Besides, he had something similar happen before, so you're welcome to try but I don't think he'll change his mind without a fight."

"Yep. I've got everything I need already. Got my folks, got my books, got my health, and I've got a sibling coming next year. I'm good. If you want to have a small get together I'm in. Emphasis on small.” Cure holds his hooves slightly apart to demonstrate the approximate party size. “Again, I acknowledge that it's as much for the family as a whole so I'm fine with that. Which of you three manages the budget?" he asks.

"Me," Title answers, suddenly concerned at the colt's attention.

"Do you know much about investment planning?"

"Uhh…" she stammers.

"That sounds like a no. I need to learn how money works in this world. There are publicly traded companies, right?" At their bewildered stare he clarified, "Is there a stock exchange somewhere like Manehattan? Companies incorporate, their total value is calculated, then divided into shares and sold on the exchange to raise capital… is this sounding familiar?"

Title has a look of comprehension. "Yep, there's a stock exchange and you're right, it's in Manehattan. The stories you read about this world covered corporate funding methods? That sounds boring."

Cure nodded, "Yeah, that does sound incredibly boring, so no, I don't know if any stories that go over that in detail, thank goodness. There’s a city on Earth called New York. It has one of the bigger stock exchanges and Manehattan happens to be the rough pony equivalent to that city. Nopony writes about boring topics like money, finance, taxes, etc. Any author with half a brain would skip that so the audience doesn't lose interest."

Title scratches at her chin with her hoof while thinking out loud, "I dunno, maybe if it were done right and they didn't get too long in the details… and as long as it made sense in context."

Vines nods a little hesitantly, "Maybe you would enjoy that but not me. You're the type of detail oriented mare that could enjoy reading a recipe book or something."

Title smiles and nods, "Only because I’m hungry all the time anymore! Hey now that you mention it, Cure we should talk about that French toast recipe you had me whip up. That was delicious! How'd that go again?"

Cure starts to answer, pauses for a second, then says, "meh, I'll write it down later. Don't think I didn't notice you changed the subject. I don't know enough about retirement planning and investing, so we should look over the budget at some point and see if we can find a pony that specializes in that. Maybe we can bring somepony in on the whole mark thing if we can trust them enough."

At the lull in conversation Cure looks down at his open notebook. He grabs the pencil in his TK field and slides it up under his foreleg where nopony can see. He keeps it moving backwards until it's on his right flank just a bit above his mark. "So… we found a neat trick today. Wanna see?"

Deed and Title both perk their ears up and watch him with a "sure" and "you bet".

Standing, Cure walks past them and says, "Okay. Watch close… but first I need to find my pencil." Making a show of it, he walks to the tree keeping his right flank and the pencil facing them and looks around the ground. "I coulda swore I had it here." He stops once he hears them snickering behind him. Shooting them a confused look he asks, "what's so funny?"

Title starts giggling and points her hoof at his flank, "ya got something on yer flank, Cure."

Turning his right flank away he faces them head on while moving the pencil forwards and up to the pit behind his left foreleg. "Huh?" he mutters, still looking confused. Turning his right side back with no pencil in sight he looks at his mark, then looks back to Title. "Duh mom, we just talked about my cute-ceañera. Now, have you seen my pencil or not?" With them looking at his right flank he moves the pencil back down his belly, this time stopping on his left butt cheek. Once it's there he slowly turns a full 360. "I know I had it out here somewhere."

Vines is full on laughing at this point and it's taking all of Cure's willpower not to crack up when he faces back to a completely baffled Deed and Title.

"I just saw it on his butt!" She yells.

Moving the pencil to his belly where it's out of their line of sight he stares at them both and slowly does a 180 and looks over his withers. "What? On my butt? I don't feel anything on my butt."

"Am I seeing things?" Title asks Deed.

"If you are then so am I. I swear he had it on his left flank, then his rear."

With a deadpan expression he faces them, head held high and turned slightly to his left while moving the pencil behind his left leg and onto his withers. "If you're not going to help me find it you can at least stop being silly," he starts as he moves the pencil up his mane so it slowly pokes up between his ears. "Really, I'm the child here and you're both acting very immature having me spin in place," he continues as the pencil comes up over to his forehead, "looking like some kinda loon," the pencil gets into position and begins raising up so it's poking out his mane like a unicorn’s horn. Two sets of eyes are following its every move while Vines is rolling on the ground laughing her flanks off as he keeps going, "I mean, seriously I expect better than that from both of you. Now are you going to help me find the dumb thing or not?" he finishes, scowling at them.

Mouths hanging open both ponies look at his pencil-horn standing proudly in defiance of reason. Next they look at Vines, still laughing her head off and rolling around, then they finally look at each other.

"What the heck is going on here?" Title finally asks, waving a hoof at Cure's horn.

Deed shrugs and says, "Not the most useful horn I've ever seen but at least you can write with it."

Cure smiles at them and answers, "I figured out how to become a pencilcorn."

"That was bad." Title notes.

"Yeah, son, always quit while you're ahead."

"Meh, everypony's a critic." Cure says as he has the pencil flow down his head, neck, and foreleg until he's holding it in his hoof. "So I noticed everypony at the grocery carrying stuff on their backs and dropping nothing. We did some experiments when we got home," he says while walking to the tree, "and it turns out you can do the hoof grabby thing without using your hoof." Turning, he sits upright against the tree and has his entire side from rear to chin latch on. With the much larger surface area and his body's weight being directly against the tree he can hold himself up enough to have all four legs folded under him in a vertical ponyloaf position with only his tail dangling down to the ground. He hangs there for a few seconds, then, keeping his neck still holding on, turns his head slightly and looks at his parents. "Questions?" he asks.

Title quickly nods, Deed nods a bit slower. Vines strolls over, looks him up and down, then leans down and blows a raspberry right on his belly. Squawking as he falls on his rear again, he rolls, comes to a stop on his side, and looks up with a scowl. “That’s twice today, dam! Are you trying to break my rear or something?”

With a happy smile she looks down at her son. “I’m sorry sweetie. I just saw a big ripe fruit hanging off the tree and just had to take a bite. You know how us,” she says as she does hoof air quotes and emphasizes, “heavy girls are with food around. We just can’t resist it.”

Sighing while standing up, he finally nods to her, “Yeah… I can see how that would be a real struggle for ya.”

“Colt…” she growls while huffing out her nose like an angry bull.

Deed lets a snort slip out before Vines’ head snaps his direction. He points at Title with a “wasn’t me” and takes a step back. Looking over the mares he now finds himself receiving two nasty looks, to which he just shrugs and smiles innocently.

“My dam’s perfect weight and, no doubt, exquisite physique aside,” Cure offers, “how about you look over the notes and get an idea of what all we figured out and we’ll go from there. Also, I don’t know about you all, but I’m starting to get hungry.”

Vines sighs and looks at the sun. “Yeah, it’s about that time, isn’t it? I’ll go get started on dinner,” Vines says as she grabs her book and heads for the house.

“Oh! Hey mom, dam says you’ve been getting cravings for some fish, is that right?”

“Yep. Already getting a hankerin for lots of things. I’ve had fish before, but normally I wouldn’t touch it. Now I feel like I’m ready to go hang out by the waterfall and catch fish jumpin up it right out of the air.”

“I’d actually get a kick out of seeing that, but if you’d like I cooked fish before, so if you like it spicy or crispy or just with some lemon, salt, and butter I do remember a few recipes. I wouldn’t mind having some myself, just to see how it is with different taste buds. I don’t think dam has ever cooked fish for me before,” he offers as he starts picking up his books. Deed comes over to help gather and carry everything while they chat.

Salivating a little, Title tilts her head as they start heading to the house together. “Mmm… spicy sounds good, just don’t overdo it. Nopony wants preggo farts all night.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Deed mutters.

“No problem. They’re small filets so they don’t take long. I just need some foil, seasoning, and some butter and we can toss it in the oven for about ten minutes. I’ve been looking forward to it since we went to the store,” Cure says, now salivating a bit himself.

Together they head into the house. Deed and Title each make a beeline for the bathroom to complete their delayed after-work rituals while Cure heads to the kitchen to help his dam where possible. To his dismay, aluminum foil is not yet widely used in Equestria, though tinfoil is present. Instead of wrapping the fish in that he opts to use a small, covered dish to keep the moisture in, and does the prep work at the table before passing it off to Vines to get in and out of the oven.

While she’s prepping the veggies and cutting up everything for the salads he starts doing an inventory to make sure they have everything for the cookies he had suggested they make earlier. With a little help from his dam he starts gathering all of the ingredients off to the side out of her way. Since they apparently lack chocolate chips he goes for snickerdoodles instead.

Cure finds that using his TK to mix the dry ingredients through the bowl works, so he marks the “in a container” line a “sort of” success in his notebook, though he can’t quite reach all the way to the middle of the bowl without cramming his hoof in there, which, since he’s not a barbarian, he does not do. He figures that the trick would work great on drinks or even for tasks like kneading bread, but it won’t replace a whisk for stirring chunky stuff or thicker liquids, not without taking a lot longer to eventually “catch” everything, even if it is great for smushing softened butter down, which always gets stuck in the whisk thongs otherwise.

Apparently the best method is to use a combo of the traditional whisk along with the TK to fill in when it gets jammed with thicker dough, then using TK to fold and knead once enough flour is added in.

There’s a few spots where extending the TK field to max really helps. One is when working with hotter objects. By using the TK field like oven mitts (which ponies do have, thus they subconsciously do the whole “penetrate a layer” TK thing anyhow) there’s a whole lot less “put them on, move something, take them off, repeat” going on, so Vines is very happy with the successes, even if it’s not a complete game-changer.

The other is when cooking meat. Cure again laments the lack of TK as a human when he thinks of his poor hands after prepping burgers.

Good God I had to wash my hands like four or five times if Cyndi wasn’t around to help out. Add in any other meat I was cooking at the time, like bacon strips, then when actually cleaning the dishes afterwards and I swear I would wash my hands ten times per meal. That sucked during winter.

Cure’s convinced he could work out a better solution eventually, but the food is almost ready and the first dozen cookie balls have been rolled in the sugar/cinnamon coating and are ready to go in the oven, so he hoofs everything over to Vines and starts resealing packages. While he’s at it he notes that the pantry lacks the enchantments that he saw at the store earlier.

I knew I should have gotten that damn rune book. Here I am damn near popping wood over the idea of doing magic and I say “maybe later” to a horn-free source like that. You’d think I didn’t see a single episode of Naruto when Josh went through that annoying scream ninja phase. I need me some sealing scrolls. Idiot! Well it’s not like I don’t have a million other things to worry about, in my defense. I swear if that’s a programming language I’m going to cream myself, pre-puberty or not. It almost has to be, in a way, or you could never get predictable results… and what kind of system can’t get repeatable outputs from identical inputs?

Interrupting his pondering, Title and Deed rejoin them to set the table and get drinks for everypony.

Vines gets the fish out of the oven and tosses the first sheet of cookies in while setting a timer for ten minutes. Dinner is quiet since most of the “daily updates” already happened outside and everypony is focused on their food. Title did inquire about the piece of bloody grass they had first cooked (to destroy the blood), then threw down the sink. “Your dam said you did something but wouldn’t say what.”

“OH! I had almost forgotten. I figured out how to convert chlorophyll into blood. Or at least, I figured out that I can on a small scale. Dam said something about doing it with the fruit she takes to the market. I’m not sure why, it was probably something about how those creepy vampony bats will finally have a reliable food source or whatever.” Three things happened simultaneously. First, Vines did the mother of all spittakes, blasting (fortunately) water across the entire table. Second, Deed flat out fell sideways off his chair while recoiling away from the table. Finally, Title dropped her fork straight off her hoof and it landed in her fish filet like a lawn dart. A few pieces of lettuce also fell out of her hanging-open mouth… which was kinda gross, what with the saliva and all coming with it. Covering his food as best he can from the particulate hanging in the air, Cure just carries on, “Gross. Jeez, what’s with all you silly ponies and your over-reactions? I’m joking. I did experiment on a piece of grass, though. Are there actually bat ponies? They only showed up in some of those stories. Sometimes they were called thestrals.”

Deed sits back in his chair while Vines wipes her muzzle, shooting an angry glare at Cure the whole time.

“Son… maybe wait until our dam’s not taking a drink?” Deed asks.

“That may be for the best, huh? Thanks for the cooling mist, by the way. Very refreshing.”

After closing her mouth and, sheepishly, re-eating the half-chewed food that had fallen out, Title answers, “There are bat ponies. There’s very few of them, though. You don’t see them often because they’re nocturnal, but there’s several stationed at the guard barracks in Baltimare and other major cities. They do patrols at night and keep ponies safe while we’re sleeping. I’ve never heard the term thestral before.”

“Huh. Neat. I read some stories where they preferred “thestral” over “bat pony”, but I never really got why “bat pony” would have been offensive when “earth pony” isn’t. They have actual membranous wings like a bat… it’s not like we’re made out of rocks.”

Deed flexes his forelegs and loudly proclaims, “Speak for yourself, son. Pure chocolate granite over here, leaves the mares mouths’ watering with just a peek.”

Everypony completely ignores him and, with a pout and a “y'all’re just jealous”, he deflates and resumes eating.

Cure smiles at Title as she tentatively cuts off a piece of the fish and takes a bite. Her face lights up with a “mmm” and the poor fish disappears quickly thereafter. Cure himself tries some and, while it’s good, he’s kind of surprised to find that it really is just good… not nearly as mind-blowing as the fruits and vegetables he’s gotten used to. Also, there’s a lot less heat to it than he prefers since he didn’t want to upset Title’s gut.

Well, I guess that’s a good thing in the long run. If I still got a hankerin for meat all the time I’d probably get some weird looks at best and be shunned a bit at worst. Plus getting the trots isn’t worth it at all. I guess I’ll stick to tofu and rice once I start … well, it isn’t beefing up now, is it? Screw it, once I start beefing up a bit.

Cure offers the other half of his fish to Title, which she gratefully accepts as he explains, “I mentioned it to dam earlier, but if you get cravings for anything weird you should speak up. That’s your body telling you there’s a deficiency somewhere that it’s urging you to fill… usually. You’re not going to convince us that the foal is demanding a pint of ice cream every night,” to which she mock-pouts, “or anything, but you’ll probably need some extra protein, especially while the foal is growing fast during the third trimester.”

“Ooh, yeah, honey, let us know what you need.” Waving a hoof at his other wife he continues, “Vines would wake me up in the middle of the night to go fetch stuff for her all the time. You’ll get no complaints from me aside from maybe a grumble at the time, but I’m happy to do it. You’re doing all the hard work, after all,” Deed says with a nod.

Plates are getting close to being cleared when the timer goes off, so Vines jumps up and gets the first tray out of the oven while tossing the next in and setting the timer again. She quickly scoops the cookies onto the cooling rack, noting how much easier it is to do with her TK field than a spatula. Oh goodie! No more mushed edges where the spatula can’t get under them! she thinks while almost dancing in place.

Cure watches her wiggling in joy and smiles at the adorableness once again. Start squeaking again, dam! It’s cute as all get out!

Vines brings the cooling rack over to the table with her and has to immediately smack Deed’s hoof away. At his pouty whimper she explains, “They’re still hot, ya big goof. You’ll burn your mouth.”

Everypony finishes dinner and enjoys a couple cookies each.

“Those were some pretty good cookies, sport. If some mares out there find out you can cook too you’re going to end up with a dozen of them throwing themselves your way. Cooking a delicious dinner for a mare that’s already sweet on ya will seal the deal in a heartbeat,” Deed finishes with a clap.

“Glad to hear it, dad. I think I may want to limit myself to a few less,” he starts saying when there was a knock on the door. First his ears, then his head turn that direction as he finished, “than twelve though. Are we expecting company?”

Vines stands and heads to the door. “Finish your cookie, honey. I’ll get it.” Opening the door she looks down and smiles at and greets the young colt on the other side.

“Can Cure come out?” Cure recognizes Heavy’s voice, of course, and turns to look to his mother and father to ask to be excused from the table.

“Go on, colt. Have fun, but be home before sunset. We’ll help your dam with the table.” Deed says, shooing him off while Title nods with an agreeing smile.

Popping the last bit of cookie in his mouth, Cure grabs another one and heads over to the door. Giving his dam a quick jog-by nuzzle he passes the cookie off to the delighted colt waiting for him.

As the door closes behind them the colts are running off to meet the rest of the group while Vines returns to the table and starts cleaning up. Deed and Title help her with the table, then when the second tray of cookies finishes cooking, are nice enough to help her eat about half of them.

Walking back into the living room, Vines takes a look over the now relaxing Deed and Title sharing a cushion. Title smiles at her and leans over to nip at Deed's jaw. "You know what? We have about an hour and a half before Cure comes back home,” she points out, all the while glancing off to the stairs and back to meet Vines' eyes.

Ears perking straight up Deed nearly leaps off the cushion and heads towards the stairs saying, “Yeah, that may be just about enough time.” He runs up past them yelling, “You both get those flanks up here right now! We’re going to go find out what happens when I’m the one channeling the magic between your cutie marks.”

With a giggle and a flank bump Title gets up and walks past Vines, whispering, “You get ‘em first. I’m tired so you wear him out a bit for me.”

Climbing up the stairs behind her Vines argues, “Huh uh, you're up first. You think you’re tired? Try spending a day with that colt and his experiments and tell me how you feel.”