New Beetlejak, U.S.A | Earth-Arrival Processing Center

"Alright... Jack Doughty, yes?" The woman behind the counter taps into a computer, pushing the glasses down the bridge of her nose as she squints at it.

"One and only." Jack mocks the same face in his ID, holding it up beside his head.

"Unlikely, but acceptable." She mutters, clacking away, her focus shifting the moment she's got the confirmation she needs.

Jack scratches his cheek, tucking his ID back in his wallet, and then shoving it into the luggage that leans against his leg as he waits, ignoring the bothered 'snrrk'ing sound from inside, zipping it back up. Another line to another computer-clacking seat-bound attendant makes their way to his side, all recently having shuffled out of the portal. Big, sterile environment with minimal chatter, most people disinterested in anything but anxiously waiting their turn.

"Length of return and reason?" Her eyes flick to him again. She's dressed snappily, in a matching crimson uniform the other attendants share. Gold lapels, a little logo of Earth on her shoulder, the works.

"Uh... for good? Done with my vacation?" Jack shrugs. He wasn't exactly planning his return trip already. The way they handled this was definitely a lot different than most of his experiences at the airport, and that was probably thanks to Pony influence. Their questions were weirder, but made sense in an odd way.

"Is that meant to imply that you have no interest in returning to Equus?" She suddenly leans forward, clicking a pen she pulled from... he's got no idea, holding up a little notepad.

"...No? Maybe?" Is all he can offer.

She tsks, scribbling something down and returning to the computer. Feels like she didn't like that answer, but whatever. Jack sticks his hands in his pockets, glancing around the Processing Center. Like customs at the airport, but no plane. Just your feet, and the big, shimmering portal to another world. Tickets were cheap enough, considering.

He wanted to try going there at least once. He had fun. Checked out Canterlot, swung by Ponyville. Got a souvenir. Saw the Ponies. Got another, unintended souvenir. Neat trip overall.

His gaze lands on a poster, one of the edges flopping in the air as it's come loose from it's pin.

Only You can help us stem the Changeling Infestation. Report any Suspicious, or Chitinous, behavior!
A man and a pony both point towards the reader, with a warning sign around one of those bug things he kept hearing about, being sprayed with a can of bug repellant and swatted with a fly swatter. It looked a lot creepier and seemed a bit much, but alright then. She couldn't be that bad.

"Alright, Mr. Jack Doughty... anything to declare?" She finally hums, leaning forward and staring at him.

"Huh?"

"Any foreign milk products, unintended or intended flora or fauna, bits, precious Equestrian metals, magically charged crystals, etcetera?" She lists off, counting them off on her fingers.

Jack feels the occupant of his wheeled luggage rustle at the words. He glances down, at the little hole the zipper has left that reveals the beady little pair of eyes staring up at him.

He glances back at the poster.

Back at the eyes. He should probably say something about that, right?

The woman coughs expectantly.

"Uh..." He looks back up to the attendant.
"...No."

New Dornhover, U.S.A | Jack's Apartment, Unit 309, Garner Gates Apartments

"I still have no idea how you got through security, but welcome home." Jack huffs, shutting his apartment door, kicking his shoes off and sending them tumbling into the corner. Freed of his burdens of travel, he wheels his cargo into the living room, tilting the luggage down so it lays flat on the floor. He leaves it there, groaning and stretching loudly as he meanders for the kitchen.

It's a long pause, but the little red eye looks out the unzipped hole. Then, a quiet, hushed voice that sounded like if someone gave a beetle a voice box.
"Where?"

Could hardly say it spoke. More like it chittered. Chattered? Surprisingly effeminate though.

"My apartment. Just you and me." Jack explains, leaning against the counter as he washes his hands, debating on what to make. He was hungry, but just kind of snacky, no no big proper meal.

"...No-buggy else?" He hears from his back again.

"Nope." Jack affirms.

Another quiet pause. Then, a rustling, Jack watching his bag shift and shake around.

And then it stops.

"...Stuck." It announces grimly.

Drying his hands off on himself, Jack squats beside the luggage, about to unzip it -- but the little swiss-cheese hoof sticks out again, swatting at him.

"You're gonna stay stuck in there if you keep that up." Jack warns. The hoof pauses midair, slowly slinking back inside.

"Apologies. Habit." It mutters quietly.

The moment he does, a little head pops right out, greedily breathing in the fresh air. Awkwardly shoving a warped horn through first, the rest of it slowly crawls out, wobbling as it tries to get steady. There's no way that was comfortable staying cramped up like that for hours on end, and his guess is proven true as it tries stretching.

It's one of those... Changelings, he thinks the word was. Little smaller than the Ponies he got used to seeing, though they look remarkably similar. Minus the obvious... bug-like inspirations to their body. Chitin instead of fur, and legs that didn't look particularly stable to stand on. This one is mostly red, with a little bob of 'hair' on her head, though it doesn't look like any normal material that would typically be hair, same with the tail. Her face is scrunched up in this mixture of discomfort and disdain, taking a slow look at her surroundings.

Not much in the way of things to look at. Single guys apartment. It's a miracle he's even got all the furniture to make this place actually look like a home, though the big television is obviously the centerpiece.

At first, he was wondering why his luggage got so heavy on his way back to the Portal. When he went to check, a little, weirdly holey hoof swatted at his fingers, refusing to let him open his bag. Jack didn't care enough to do anything about it, so he just kept going. Someone at some point would solve that problem, surely. Especially with all the posters and warnings around.

But then he got processed on the Pony side, no issues. Then he went through the portal. Then he got processed on the Human side. His luggage got checked twice. And each time he got his bag back, he'd lean down, trying to unzip it and check it himself.

And then a little pair of fangs would snap at him, before beady red eyes stared at him through the little unzipped portion of his bags lining. He's got no idea how she pulled it off, but at that point, Jack felt like she deserved it, honestly. Like those ridiculous restrictions on flights. If you can take over the plane with a thumbtack, at that point, you deserve to have the plane. She made it through, so... Jack was just curious to see what kind of problem these guys caused.

Because looking at it, it didn't seem like much. She's curiously checking out his living room, crouching down to peek under the couch, poking at the cushions with a hoof. Kind of feels like he just picked up a pet. Like a insecty-cat... thing.

With a horn.

Jack leaves her to explore, assuming she can't get up to much in the way of damage or trouble, sitting at his desk. His computer whirls alive with a little jingle, screen lighting up.

"What are you doing?" He hears beside himself. Glancing down, the Changeling is staring up at him, eyes squinted.

"Looking up stuff that bugs eat." Jack gestures to the screen, before realizing she's probably not seen a computer before.

"We are not bugs." She huffs loudly, squinting at the flashing lights.

"You literally said any-buggy when you first got here." Jack points out, her... those are probably ears, going flat against her head as she's called out.

"T-that is our form of speech. Do not turn my words on me." She chitters, roughly poking at the leg of his chair in some sort of retaliation. She pushes herself back further than she does anything to the chair. It's kind of funny.

"Mmhm. Well, do you want to tell me what you eat, so we can get that sorted then? Or you just going to help yourself to my fridge?" Leaning back on the edge of the chair, Jack watches her. Odd little thing.

"...Love." She mutters after a pause, tensing. Like she's waiting for his reaction.

... Fuck was Love? Some kind of Equestrian food brand?
"Come again?"

"Love." She states again, louder, as if prouder, before bracing herself.

"Is that an Equus thing? Can I even order that?" Jack questions, starting to type it up on his computer.

She blinks several times, apparently not getting the reaction she expected.
"...No. The emotion, Love."

Jack pauses, giving her a look.
"How the hell do you eat that?"

"Changelings absorb it."

"...Okay." Jack shrugs, checking what Sneedipedia has on these weird bug-not-bug things.

Definitely bugs. Grubs and hives and the whole works.

Emotivores. So they do actually eat Love, however they pull that off. Alright.

... And apparently, very aggressive. Kidnapping and using food sources against their will.

Jack glances down to his stowaway. She's standing there, padding the ground with her holey little hooves, glancing around the room with that same squint.

Yeah, he was probably fine.

"...Why are you always squinting?" He asks, scooting the chair back and startling her.

After giving the chair a tentative sniff after it's rude noise, she sits down, looking up at him.
"I have difficulty seeing things. It is one of the reasons I was a burden to my hive, and why I sought such a drastic measure as penetrating the Portal to prove myself.

"One of?"

"My kind can change our form."

"Ah, Changeling. I get the name now."

She tilts her head, ears flickering.
"You truly know nothing of us?"

"I saw a poster, and your Sneedipedia page, but I haven't gotten through it yet. That's about it." Jack shrugs. She doesn't quite seem to understand everything he's saying, but she takes it in stride well enough.

"I, however... cannot. They titled me a runt. I am not as strong, nor as fast as my kin. The Hatchmother said I was... stunted at birth. Dropped, as an egg." She explains, almost deadpan.

"Ouch."

"And again, as a grubling." She dutifully adds, showing no hint of bother at the fact of being double-dipped in the disability pool.

"Ouc--"

"Also, my wings did not grow properly. I cannot fly."

Jack stops himself from saying Ouch a third time, feigning scratching his cheek to hold his mouth shut.
"...Well, we can say you're resilient." Jack skirts the idea of properly approaching the topic, well aware he's not the right person to deep dive on those issues. That's for something after a few days of googling therapist questions.

"...I am?" She seems almost surprised to have that word applied to herself.

"You look pretty functional to me. Haven't heard of a Changeling getting through the Portal processing thing yet. You're probably the first. Must be doing something right." Jack shrugs, turning back to the computer and scrolling the page. The author of this article, a... Princess Twilight, was very in depth about just how much of a pest these guys were. There was numerous warnings to their warlike nature, and links to their 'Nuuling' cousin-kin, which seem to have been a few hives that... rehabilitated or evolved, being all colorful and having a different food source.

Jack glances back down to his little intruder.

Her opaque eyes widen at the prospect, chest sticking out, little wings buzzing. She certainly doesn't get any lift, but it's cute seeing her be all proud of herself.

...Yeah, probably fine to keep just one or something. She seemed harmless enough.

Jack reaches down, tussling the mess of... it feels like seaweed, that sits on her head. Instantly, she flinches back, growling, scuttling back several feet.

"Huh?"

"Deceiver. Why do you lower my guard only to attack me?!" She spits, her horn sputtering a few errant, orange sparks.

"I... was petting your head." Jack states bluntly, wiggling his fingers.

She frowns.

"Just... come here." Jack waves her over.

"Do you intend to attack me again?" She glares. She almost looks like a puffed up cat, the way she's all... well, she doesn't have fur to fluff out, but she's hopping around all the same.

"It's not an attack. You can bite me all you want if it hurts, just... let me show you." Jack motions for her to come close again.

She's guarded, watching him with that squinted, suspicious look. But after a long moment, she slowly creeps over, glaring at his hand.

Jack slowly lowers it back onto her head, carefully patting her.

"...Is that it?" She mutters, still watching his hand as it squishes her red-tinted... hair stuff, Jack avoiding touching the pointy looking horn.

"Mmhm." He nods simply. She doesn't seem to buy it, as if there was a sneaky reason for him to be doing this. For a creature that feeds on Love, it doesn't really seem like she knows what Love is.

"What is the point of this?" She chirps, as if she's never been given affection before. Honestly, considering she's a bug and there's posters out for her kind, she might not have. Not asking about that yet, though. That's traumatic backstory delving that he isn't cleared to cover yet.

"Affection." Is all Jack says -- yet her eyes widen at the very word.

"I have heard of this. This is one of the things that leads to Love, is it not?!" She announces quite loudly, much louder than the almost monotonous tone she's been keeping this entire time.

"Uh... could be viewed as a form of it, sure." Jack shrugs. "What kind of Love do you guys need, anyway?"

"Any kind. There is numerous, from what one might feel to a sibling, to a friend, to a pet, to a loved one. Love is vast, as are it's flavors." She explains.

"Huh. Well, yeah, this is probably close to one of those or something." Jack admits. Probably pet.

This seems to pacify her, and she settles in, accepting the act for as long as Jack is willing to give it, even leaning into it at some point. Jack wonders if this is her own interpretation of taking his Love or something. His hand kind of tingles the longer he pets her, but it doesn't really feel bad or anything.

"What do I call you, anyway?" He asks, lifting his hand away and looking at his palm. There's a little discoloration, but within a moment it's gone.

She blinks, wondering where his hand went.
"...Abdomen."

"Seriously?"

"My kind are named after the numerous parts of... insects, to remind us we are but parts of a whole. I was named Abdomen, a name whose rank is reserved for --"

Jack snorts.
"They named you butt?"

Her lips purse, staring down at the floor. That kind of confirms it, and makes Jack feel a touch bad.

"Well... Abbi, I'm Jack."

"Who is Abbi?"

"You, now."

"And who is Jack?"

"...Me."

"But I am Abdomen."

"I'm not calling you butt. You're Abbi, now. A better name for the bug, who got through the Portal first, right?"

This perks her up considerably, seeming to considering it for a only a moment before nodding. She got so excited, she didn't even deny the bug-cusations.

"Now... we'll need to get you a few things. Like a collar." Jack hums in thought, stroking his chin.

Abbi blinks several times, taking a cautious step back.
"A what?"

...

"Must I wear this... object of restraint?" She tugs at the colorful little collar around her neck with disdain, shuffling her way up from the backseat to lean on the drivers chair, balancing on the glove box to complain. "It is embarrassing. I feel like the canines that the Ponies keep as pets."

Jack tsks, setting the car to park.
"Yep, our best bet of getting you to fly under the radar. Probably should've gotten a water bowl too..."

"I am no pet." She shirks the idea, roughly poking his shoulder.

This one was a poker. Any time he said something she wasn't a fan of, one of those hole-riddled hooves would jut out to try and jab him, no matter if he was in reach or not.

"Kidding, kidding. But do you want to be able to see or not?" He gestures out the front windshield, towards the optometrist they're parked in front of. Probably going to be an odd experience, but should be interesting.

"These promises of vision sound lofty and fake, but... yes. I do." She's tentative, and has no idea what he's pointing at.

"Then come on." Jack steps out of the car, waiting for her to hop down. She trots in a circle around him as the door shuts, squinting around herself.

Jack starts walking... and within moments, she's lost him, squinting around and trying to find him in the parking lot. Rather than call his name, she starts buzzing her wings like it's going to return him to her.

Well, it kinda works, considering. He scoops her up under his arm, despite her sudden protests.

"Unhoof me!" She chirps, wriggling until he speaks up.

"It's me."

"Jack?" She stops, perking up.

"Mhm."

"...Do not escape from me again." She huffs, hiding her relief behind a quick scolding. It's hard not to laugh at the absurdity of the whole situation.

"Sure thing, Abbi."

Author's Note

extra render, forehead horn