The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgeraldby theRedBronyChaptersWe're holding our own...Port...Setting sail...We're holding our own...This is dedicated to all the mariners who lost their lives on the Great Lakes. Please note that the names have been changed out of respect, and some other stuff has been changed and/or hyped up for purposes of entertainment. If you want a little something to set the mood, no song could be more apropos than THIS. Lake Superior, North America About 15 miles Northwest of Whitefish Bay Aboard the SS Edmund Fitzgerald November 10, 1975 7:10 pm "How are you doing, Ed?" asked the fuzzy, distorted voice on the radio. The voice in question belonged to Bernie Cooper, captain of the SS Arthur M. Anderson. "We're holding our own." Not many other choice phrases could have been vague enough to gloss over the sad truth. Edward McQuinn had seen his fair share of bad seas, and in fact prided himself upon being able to wrangle the worst of weather. But today, ol' Superior was throwing her worst at him. Both radars knocked out by the winter storm three hours ago, waves relentlessly breaking over the deck, two ballast tank vents missing, and the Mighty Fitz was listing so bad to starboard that old Ed wouldn't even be able to set his cup of coffee down on the table without it sliding clean off… that is, if the ship wasn't rolling over 25 foot waves at the moment. Sailing blind without radars in the darkness and heavy snowfall, Ed's travelling companion Bernie had to lead him through the tempest over the radio. Ed looked out the bridge windows, to the deck of the ship. What he saw made him drop his coffee mug. It shattered, spilling the no-longer-warm liquid upon the floor, like the waves spilling over the railings onto the deck that Ed could clearly see was unnaturally twisted in the midsection. She was just about to break apart... "CAPTAIN!" shouted Vernon O'Daniel, who was manning the wheel. The good captain turned his head to the bow windows, expecting to see the snowstorm and turbulent sea that was Superior, but instead only saw a wall of blues and whites. What came next happened so quickly, no one would even remember it. Tempest tossed and half-drowned in the frigid, turbulent waters, old Captain McQuinn surfaced from the water and drew a deep breath of cold air that burned his lungs. The first coherent thought that his mind could piece together at that point was: 'It's over…' And it very much would have been all over for him and his crew. He could not recall how he wound up out of the ship's bridge and into the water, but one thing was certain: if you fell overboard in the icy waters of Superior, especially in a storm as bad as this, it was all over for you. But despite the trauma and the frigid cold, Ed's head was starting to clear, and soon he heard voices. His men. He couldn't see anyone in the dark and amidst the rain. But then all of a sudden, he could. He saw Vern, floating not 20 feet away, and being jostled up and down by 10 foot waves, as Ed was. Why could he suddenly see in the dark? DING DING A ship's bell? The Anderson! Was she really that close? There was some hope after all, they were caught in the other ship's searchlight! They would be saved! And saved they were. A lifesaver tied to a rope was thrown to them, and all the men present clung to it for dear life. They were reeled in and hoisted up on deck one by one. The captain was the second to be brought up. On his hands and knees, the 63 year old man coughed and wheezed and shivered violently. Next to him, Vern the wheelsman, faired not much better, but took the time to look up and attempt to thank his savior. What he did instead was stare until he finally attempted to tap on Ed's shoulder. Of course his blind attempt at 'tapping' was more like poking and slapping the captain. He didn't get his attention until he practically backhanded Ed's face, unintentionally of course. Ed managed to look up at Vern, only to see him staring off at something else. Ed followed his gaze and stared as well. And what he saw was, what, in his mind at the time, could only be described as… …a giant four-legged eagle in a black raincoat and matching hat. Who was curiously staring right back at them with a feathery eyebrow cocked way up. And it spoke, "An' what manner o' creature be you, matey?" Neither men had the strength to respond. What was left of the Fitz's crew sat huddled together on the floor of a warm room inside the ship they were rescued by, now quite obviously NOT the SS Anderson. They were stripped naked and given blankets. You know, because their clothes were wet… Every man in the room noticed something, but none dared speak it. There were far too few of them. Too many faces missing. Most dared not think about it at the moment. After some time, a griffon entered the room. The men had already conversed with some of the crewmembers and knew the name of their species, but could not discern much else in their state of shock and hypothermia. The solidly built griffon sat behind a desk, on a chair interestingly enough. The stylish white hat he removed from his head and placed on the desk identified him as the captain. He had a muddy golden coat, with off-white feathers, and he wore a black eye patch over his right eye, under which ruffled and uneven feathers implied some sort of scarring. "Uh… hello." He smiled unsurely. "I'm Captain Redbeak… but you all can call me Scratchy, all my crew does. They say you're called humans?" The group of men nodded. "And from which land do you hail?" Ed, taking initiative as captain of his crew, cleared his throat and said, "The United States of America." "Hmm, can’t say I've heard of it." Scratchy scratched the scraggly feathers under his beak with a talon. The men gaped in shocked silence. "I take it you were sailing these waters?" "I'm not so sure now…" Ed responded, "is this Lake Superior?" "Lake?! This is the East Ocean!" Scratchy gawked as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. The men murmured, they had all tasted the salty water, but had chalked it up to the trauma of being flung overboard into freezing waters in the middle of a violent storm. Old Ed only stammered in a vain attempt to ask where the 'East Ocean' was, but instead fell back on a more conversational question, "What's your heading?" "Horseshoe Bay." Scratchy saw where this was going, rolled his one eye around in his head, and added, "Equestria." The six men from the Fitz went below decks and got acquainted with the griffon crew. "Treat them like proper guests!" Captain Redbeak ordered. Meanwhile, the two captains sat alone in Scratchy's quarters and talked over a meal of some kind of red meat, bread, and cooked vegetables. They mostly made small talk, about their home towns, their careers, and so forth. When the topic turned to the ship they were currently aboard… "…she's an iron steamboat, she is. None of that old fashioned wood 'n sails the ponies still use," Scratchy smiled proudly. "We're hauling iron ore, Equestria's finally starting a little bit of an industrial revolution. Took 'em long enough." A moment of silence passed between the two, Scratchy could see he struck a sensitive topic. "Don't be so hard on yourself," Scratchy leaned over and patted Ed on the back. "I've lost two ships myself." Ed looked up into the other captain's eye. "Have you ever lost a crewmember?" "I… no. I have not…" Scratchy's brow was furrowed in concern for his fellow captain. The shipless captain looked back down at his food again. "It's my fault. I failed them," he despaired, looking as though he was on the verge of tears. "If… if I hadn't pushed the Fitz so damn hard…" Scratchy sighed and opened a drawer in his desk. "Well, I can't get you you're crew back. But I got a solution for that anyhow." He plunked a glass bottle filled with amber liquid on the desk. Below decks… "CHEERS!" Glasses and beer bottles clashed together, adding to a cacophony of incomprehensible shouting, laughter, and guitar music. The humans had made a toast to their lost comrades, but they themselves were so full of life. The shock of going overboard, and the sweet reprieve of rescue had instilled in them a new sense of life, and they were just happy to still be living it. The griffons however, were merely content for an excuse to break out the beers. The two crews separated by species got along well. Both groups being sailors helped, but what really sold it for the griffons was discovered before dinner… "Ugh, you don't eat hay, do you?" The resident cook asked his human guests. Earl was a completely gray griffon, medium gray feathers and fur. "Cuz we ain't got none of that," he griped, pushing his extremely thick spectacles back into place on his beak. Confused as he was about everything, Jacob McAvoy, the 62 year old first mate, was just going with the flow when he answered, "Uh… well, I'm a meat 'n potatoes man, myself." He was a short, stocky man with an unusually charismatic high pitched voice. "Meat you say?" The chef raised both of his feathery eyebrows over his heavy duty glasses, then grinned like the cat that ate the canary (a particularly unusual analogy given the griffon anatomy). He was ecstatic that he would get to cook for a new race of fellow meat eaters. It was explained to the humans that most of the other intelligent species on the planet were herbivores. And while the crew of the Fitz still had many questions, most were shoved aside in favor of celebration and fun. One of the younger griffons by the name of Edgar, pulled a bottle from under his coffee-with-cream colored wing and offered it to one of the humans. 22 year old Robert Stein was a scrawny young man, and he was still a bit shaken up about the whole 'nearly drowning then being rescued by a ship crewed by mythical creatures' thing. "Uh… no thanks, I d-don't drink…" Before Edgar could look too disheartened, Jake McAvoy bumped into the young man, carrying his own near-empty bottle of beer. "C'mon kid! We almost DIED out there!" He pointed in an arbitrary direction. "Live a little!" "Uh… alright…" Jake patted the kid on the back and went on his merry way. Edgar put the mouth of the bottle in his beak, popped the cap off, and handed the beer to Bob with a cheeky smile. "Whoa… Groovy," Bob replied while accepting the beer. "Neat little trick I learned from Taylor. So uh, what's your rank?" Bob took a swig of the beverage and cringed as it went down. "Deck cadet." "No kidding? Me too!" And so the night wore on and the men and griffons got to know each other, some a little too well… "…and, and then she said, 'does it always look like that?!' " A young human deckhand named Peter Lowes finished the punch line and the room erupted in laughter. "Damn, Pete, you've had some crazy mollies!" Earl commented. "Alright gentlemen! And gentle-griffons!" Vern slammed his hand on the card table, rattling everyone's beer bottles. "Whatdya say we make this round interesting for a change?!" "Oi! Matey, ye ain't got no gold to be bettin'!" Accused the resident pirate wannabe griffon, Doubloon, his name matching his golden coat. He was the first to greet old Vern when he came aboard. "He's got a point Vern," added John Piccard, a young watchman from the Fitz. "Well…" started another griffon, Taylor, who was shuffling a deck of playing cards, "I suppose we could lend you some dough…" the brown coated, yellow feathered watchbird said with a sly smile. "That's what I'm talkin' about!" Vern rubbed his hands together. "Hurry up and deal!" Captain Redbeak and Captain McQuinn stood next to one another, both leaning against the bow railing, observing the land they were headed for… "Equestria," Scratchy idly commented. Though it was a simple statement to the griffon captain, it was a question of great mystery to his human companion. Ed had seen the charts, he knew it was a continent. And it was still far away, but his old eyes could make out the vast coast, stretching out as far as the eye could see, fading into the clear blue skies to both left and right. He could see mountains a fair distance beyond the coast, some with snowy peaks that reflected the morning sun that was warming his back. Scratchy leaned forward and spit some tobacco juice over the railing. "I already wired them," he said, without looking away from the scenery. "The Equestrian government seems pretty interested in you lot." Ed silently nodded. He could see a lighthouse. "Don't worry none," the griffon captain gave his human companion a firm but friendly slap on the back. "The ponies will take good care of ya. They're very diplomatic… I'd wager they'll think you're all ambassadors of some far away island nation or something." Scratchy didn't exactly believe these humans were from some other world entirely, but he had never seen anything like them either. So he decided not to pass judgment on his guests. Another moment of nothing but the peaceful sound of calm wind and waves passed between the two. "They're a good people, the ponies. Don't you let nobird tell you otherwise." Scratchy pointed a talon at Ed to make his point. Ed glanced at Scratchy then looked back to the sea. He sighed. "What am I going to do?" he asked in a neutral tone. "Well… I might be able get some jobs for you and your crew at Griffhala Shipping. I can't promise ya a captain's position, but ya won't be a deckclaw neither." He smiled up at the old man. "Whenever you're ready, we're always making port in Horseshoe Bay, just look us up. Same goes for your crew." Ed forced a little smile. "Thank you." His smile fell. "For everything…" Scratchy shrugged. "Don't mention it. Glad to help my fellow sailors." He repositioned his hat. "I better get back to the bridge, we'll be docking soon." "Alright men…" Ed thought it best to give his crew a little pep talk before disembarking. "These 'ponies' are going to be our hosts until further notice, despite how incredibly ridiculous that sounds. So I expect you all to be on your best behavior. Do I make myself clear?" A round of half-hearted 'yes sir's came from the six men. "Scratchy also said they might be able to find us a way home." The men perked up at this. "So this might be our one chance. Don't screw it up." The last griffon walked down the gang plank and off the ship. Captain McQuinn took a deep breath, and lead his men down the gang plank as well. Author's Note Mane 6 appear in the next chapter. Comment and let me know what you think! Don't forget to give me a thumb! Go check out my other fics, and I'd certainly appreciate a 'Follow' if it's not too much trouble! Also, the griffon Scratchy Redbeak is a character borrowed, with permission, from Banishment Decree by ChuckFinley. You should go read it. Now. :P Port...The men stared. And the ponies stared right back. But Ed would not let this stand, he had to maintain authority and professionalism. It was part of his job. "Hello, I'm Captain Edward McQuinn, pleasure to meet you." He got down on one arthritic knee, requiring some effort and internal cursing on his part, and extended his hand to the peach-coated pony, who was quite short compared to the tall upright human, although not much more so than the griffons. He cleared his throat and extended his foreleg to meet the man's shake. "Well it is a pleasure to meet you as well! I'm Mayor Cobbler, but you can call me Peachy!" Ed was keen to notice the lack of horseshoe and he briefly wondered what kind of dirt from the cobblestone floor of the docks he was currently touching. He wasn't sure how to perform a proper 'hoofshake,' but he assumed a firm grip would still be part of the recommended method. Peachy flinched only slightly upon having his hoof encircled by fleshy fingers. Ed judged that this was only because of the awkwardness of meeting a human for the first time, after all, he felt about the same meeting a pony. "And this is my assistant Note Scribe," Peachy gestured over to the slim white mare with the curly golden hair. She silently kept her distance, not at all frightened, but still remaining wary of these strange newcomers. The young deckhand Pete leaned a little to his left and said quietly to John, "I could get down with that," as he looked at the mayor's assistant. John's eyes followed Pete's gaze to the young, shapely mare. His eyes returned to Pete, giving him a look of disgust. "Are you saying you'd shag a horse?" "She ain't exactly a horse…" Pete replied skeptically, his hands held out, palms up. John scowled at his friend, "What do you mean? She's got four hooves and everything!" "Don't flip yo wig man. I'm just saying." He shrugged. The city's well-fed mayor finished his long-winded introduction and looked beyond Ed to address his remaining crew. "Gentle…colts, welcome to Baltimare!" He held a hoof out to his side as if to present his glorious city, but all the humans could see were dingy dock buildings. Pete couldn't help but snicker, while all the others were thinking this pudgy gray-haired pony mayor had simply mispronounced 'Baltimore.' "Well, let's get you gents some lunch! I know a swell restaurant, you'll love it. I'll show you the sights while we're about town!" Jake McAvoy patted his large stomach and nodded in approval. "I could go for some grub." As the mayor and his assistant led the way, old Ed took one last glance at the docked ship that had rescued his men and himself. A big iron freighter, with a simple paint scheme of black on the lower half of the hull, and white for the upper, but with a tiny gold stripe separating the two colors. It didn't exactly have the same, more efficient layout as most of the freighters he knew from his world, like the Fitz, but it seemed like it got the job done anyhow. Scratchy had told him that out of all the ships he had ever helmed, this one was his all time favorite ship, despite how old and overused it was… Ed squinted at the lettering denoting the ship's name… The G.S.S. Gildash. Captain McQuinn felt like he was eating a slice of home. He brought the silver fork to his mouth and bit down on a piece of meaty goodness. Although he couldn't help being painfully aware that the peach-colored, very much vegetarian stallion sitting across from him was the only equine in the entirety of the griffon restaurant. Even his secretary had abandoned him, not daring to venture into the establishment. And he looked just a tiny bit uneasy. "I'm sorry, is it bothering you?" The captain glanced down at his juicy steak. "Ah, don't worry about it, I'm used to it," Peachy lied, and continued to take careful bites of his salad straight out of the bowl. "So tell me, where exactly are you from?" "Ha. Ohio." "Can't say I've heard of it." "Hmm," Ed merely mumbled with food in his mouth. "So about how far away is this 'Ohio'?" Ed looked up from his plate to a small, oddly-proportioned, peach-coated pony eating a salad, who was seated at a table in a restaurant (that happened to be staffed by mythical creatures), the mayor of a city of ponies, with whom Ed was carrying on a conversation. "Pretty damned far, I'd say." "Stallion of few words, are we? It's alright if you don't want to tell me, I understand. International diplomacy can be tricky when you're in a more… casual setting." Peachy feigned insult. Ed sighed and put down his fork. "I don't really want to talk about it in front of my crew," he said quietly, and glanced over to his men. They were laughing and enjoying their free feast, courtesy of Baltimare's taxpayers. Mayor Cobbler gave Captain McQuinn a knowing look and nodded his head off to the side. Ed took his hint and the two left the table and found a corner near the restrooms to talk in private. "I'm sorry about that. We're a long, long way from home, and I just don't think it's quite sunken in for them yet." Ed sighed. "You're not going to find our home on any map. Believe me I checked." "Well… perhaps it's uncharted territory," Peachy theorized with an air of intellect and a swirly hoof gesture. "I'm afraid you don't understand. Your whole world is different. We humans, we've charted our whole planet, and this place? It is definitely not on the map. Not on our map." "What are you saying?" Peachy asked incredulously. "Weren't you shipwrecked?" "Yes. In a freshwater lake. Not an ocean. Go figure that one out." "I see… Well then… the only possible explanation… is magic." Ed cracked a little smile, "Ha ha, very funny." And so the whole concept of magic was explained to the old man. Who then passed on a word of caution about unicorns to his men. After lunch, Peachy lead the humans on a brief sightseeing tour of Baltimare. The big industrial harbor made the city look a lot larger than it actually was. The sights didn't go far beyond Town Hall and a few statues and fountains. Then the time came to say goodbye to Baltimare's mayor and his introverted assistant, who had conveniently rejoined them after lunch. They stood on a train station platform awaiting the train that was just pulling in now. But before it came to a halt, a gold-coated griffon wearing a bandana descended from the sky and landed right in front of the humans. "Ahoy mateys-" "Hey! No flying allowed near the platforms! You'll have to-" "Oi you! Shut your mouth! I'm only deliverin' a message, savvy?" The bespectacled train station worker just opened his mouth a few times before backing down and walking away. "Howdy Doubloon," Vern greeted the gold griffon. "Fellas." The pirate wannabe tipped an imaginary hat. "As I was sayin', Cap'n Scratchy wanted to give you lot a message. 'e said good luck gettin' 'ome, and if you don't 'ave much luck, we'll be makin' port every week in 'orseshoe Bay for the next three months. So if any of you lot need a job, 'e'll help you out." The men all nodded grimly at this, considering the possibility, for the first time, that they might not return home. "Thank you for the message sailor. Doubloon was it?" Captain McQuinn asked. "That's me. I best be off, I've got plunderin' and pillagin' to be doin'!" He took to the air. "Another time, gents!" The crew bade him farewell, and took notice that a purple pony flanked by two gold armor clad ones was approaching them. "Princess Sparkle!" Mayor Cobbler hurried over from behind the humans and bowed before her. "Mr. Mayor, please skip the bowing, if you don't mind…" She protested. "Of course, of course! Gentlecolts, this is Princess Twilight Sparkle!" Peachy then began to mouth the word 'bow' and gesture with a hoof for the humans to do so. Twilight smiled in embarrassment and shook her head. "Please don't bow." "I'm Captain Ed McQuinn, and this is my crew." Unsure about royal formalities, Ed sheepishly offered his hand to shake. "It's such a pleasure to meet you! I can't wait to…" "Hey," Robert Stein whispered to his shipmates as the pony royalty and his captain made introductions. "Hey guys. L-look at her. Notice something off?" "Yeah," Pete began sarcastically, "She's a talking fucking horse…" Vern leaned back and cut in, "Can it wise guy. These ponies are taking us in. Show some goddamn respect." Pete threw his hands up defensively, "Hey I'm just sayin'." "No, look," Robert sheepishly pointed to the purple pony princess. "She has wings and a horn. I've been looking, none of the other ponies have both." "Man… you probably weren't looking hard enough." John casually commented. "While we're at it," Jake cut in, "What's up with the Romans?" He pointed a thumb at the guards. "…I'm just so excited!" Twilight was practically jumping up and down from whatever her and the captain were talking about. "Oh! I almost forgot, this is my assistant, Spike." She moved aside, exposing a shy pudgy purple reptile who smiled and waved his claw nervously. "Hey dude," Pete leaned over and whispered to John, "is that some kind of lizard?" "I dunno man, looks more like a dinosaur to me," John responded. Pete shot his friend a dirty look. "Dinosaurs are lizards man!" "Naw, they're extinct!" Pete put his face in the palm of his hand. Robert moved in between them, "Actually dinosaurs are more related to birds." "LAST CALL FOR BALTIMARE TO CANTERLOT! ALL ABOARD!" "Canterlot?" John commented. "Now that's a ridiculous name…" Vern added with a cocked eyebrow. "Hey what happened to respect, man?" Pete huffed at Vern. On the long journey to Canterlot, much was explained to both parties. Twilight understood now that these humans were not shipwrecked ambassadors on their way to make peace and trading arrangements (or war) with Equestria, as Twilight had heard it. She had a feeling that her mentor's lack of advice for this particular situation might have been Celestia's way of teaching her former student a new lesson in leadership: tales grow taller on down the line. But nevertheless, the newly crowned princess of friendship was even more ecstatic when she found out she was dealing with extra-dimensional sailors instead of a bunch of boring politicians from her own world. She made them a promise to do all she could to find them a way home. Although Ed was skeptical as to whether or not anything would come from her research on the reality-jump. To him this seemed all seemed to be a huge fluke of the powers that be. A mistake of God himself… or perhaps all part of His grand plan. But he refused to get too philosophical about this, even within the confines of his own mind, because he knew there was only one conclusion he would inevitably settle on. And he refused to believe he was dead. Still, the rest of the crew seemed optimistic enough about Twilight's endeavors to find them a way home. All of them… except for Jake. To the 62 year old first mate, it seemed pointless. He was once the happiest man aboard the mighty Fitz, his smile would brighten anyone's day. But after tragedy struck him he had lost his spirit. The poor man had been miserably depressed ever since he lost his beloved wife and daughter to a car accident two years before. The thought of just ending it all had crossed his mind, but his recent brush with death had instilled in him a new desire to live. There was nothing left for him back home except trying to find another crummy job so he could put food on his plate. Here, strange as this new world was, everyone he had met so far was kind and giving. And happy. To him, this seemed like a nice place to retire, even if he would have to start from scratch. And so they arrived in Canterlot. Names were exchanged, places seen, things explained, and, of course, a welcome party thrown. Courtesy of the bounciest pink pony the crew had ever met. "What?! You eat meat?!" The pink creature gawked in surprise at the humans. "Yeah… is that bad?" John asked. "Bad? Of course it's bad! Nopony told me! I would have had the party catered for it!" "Ha ha! Don't worry Pinkie, I'm sure we'll survive off cupcakes and cookies for one day." "I wish we had some beer though," Vern suggested, swirling the fruity punch around in his glass. "Beer? One sec!" Pinkie smiled and dashed out of the castle ballroom, stirring up confetti from the floor in her wake. "Honestly it's probably for the best that Pinkie didn't have the party catered to your… special diet." Rarity said as she approached the snack table. "I don't think any of us ponies would be comfortable being around dead animal carcasses." "Meh," Rainbow Dash interrupted as she casually leaned against the snack table, "Gilda used to eat meat around me all the time. Never bothered me." "Oh how uncouth," Rarity spat. Peter butt in, "Oh, lighten up lady. It’s not like we eat bleeding dead animals." Jake wandered over to the snack table. "Hey guys. Ladies." He gave a polite nod. "Hey John. What d'ya 'spose they're talking about over there." He pointed a cupcake towards Robert and Fluttershy, both sitting on the floor and chit-chatting about something. "I don't know but they seem to be getting along good." "Huh. Fluttershy's like the last pony I'd expect to make friends with a big scary monkey-monster," Rainbow added, much to the displeasure of her human company. "Not that I'm scared of you or anything. I mean, I could totally take you on," she said smugly. The humans kept silently staring at her until Rarity politely cleared her throat. "Oh, I mean… uh… no offense?" Rainbow bashfully shrugged after finally taking the hint. John rolled his eyes and asked no one in particular, "What do you think the captain and the royalty are talking about?" He looked over to his captain and three pony princesses. "Probably boring princess stuff," Rainbow scoffed. "I'm quite sure they're talking about serious political issues, having to do with your arrival," Rarity politely stated. "Yeah, like I said, boring princess stuff," the colorful pegasus repeated. Just then a loud rumbling noise was heard coming their way. Everyone looked to the ballroom doors that swung open, and in came Pinkie, rolling a large wooden barrel into the room… by walking backwards on top of it with her hind legs. Applejack trotted over and helped Pinkie stop the barrel from rolling. She took a quick glance at the stenciled letters on the barrel, and casually leaned on it. "Well, I'll be. Y'all sure are gettin' the royal treatment now! This here's the best darned cider in all of Equestria!" "I couldn't find any beer but cider's just as good! Maybe even better!" Pinkie exclaimed. "The best cider, you say?" Vern asked. "Yes sir! I know because I make it. This here's Sweet Apple Acres cider!" She said proudly. Peter inspected the barrel, "Cider?" He shrugged. "Alright! Let's get this party started!" Author's Note Hi guys! Long time, I know. Sadly, I haven't written much at all for the past few months, and this was on the backburner as it was. Anyhow, I intend to finish this story, but read below. It's important for me to note that this story was a writing experiment. I wanted to write as much story as possible with the fewest words. Granted, that's something you're always told not to do, hence the experiment. As a result, the pacing is extremely fast and it has jarring scene transitions, but I think it's a nice change in pace to simply drop all the words that aren't completely necessary to conveying the story. It is a simple story to boot, and I don't expect it to go beyond 3 or 4 chapters. Not that I'm cutting it short, again, I'm just intending for it to be a very short read. Let me know how it's been so far. Setting sail...Pop Splash "Ahh! Cold! Cold!" Twilight Sparkle splashed around in the ice cold ocean she just fell into. "DISCORD!" "Oops!" The spirit of chaos snapped his fingers and in a flash, Twilight was warm and dry, sitting in a small dinghy that just appeared out of nowhere. "Sorry Twilight," Discord apologized with a sheepish grin. Twilight merely grumbled in response. Meanwhile Discord zipped to and fro, stopping to smell the ocean air here and there. There was nothing around the two. They were in the middle of the sea, with naught but water all around them in every direction as far as the eye could see. "I'm not finding anything, Twilight. There's some faint residual magic, but that's about it. No gaping hole between realities or anything of the sort." "Are you sure we're even in the right place?" "Of course I'm sure!" He produced a map and looked over it closely. "We're at the exact coordinates those lovely high-seas sailing griffons gave you." He threw the map up in the air, where it flapped away like a bird. Twilight leaned over the edge of the boat, looking around. "I don't feel anything either. You sure there's nothing you can do?" "I can do all sorts of things-!" "You know what I mean, Discord. Is there anything you can do for those humans?" His expression became slightly forlorn. "No, I'm afraid not." Three months later… A tall skinny man wiped the sweat from his brow as he sat down under shade of a tree. He looked upon the small field of wheat under the sunny sky, half of which had been harvested. The other half swayed in the breeze and seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. Only three months ago he was a watchman aboard the Edmund Fitzgerald, a sailor. Now, he was a farmhand. He was sweaty, dirty, muscles burning… a small smile graced his sweaty red face as he leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes. In a strange alien world filled with ponies and griffons and magic… he still felt like a man. An irregular ringing caught his ear. "John? Are you nappin' on the job? I should dock ya a day's pay." John tipped his hat up and looked up to see the sarcastic smirk on his employer's face. He couldn't help but smile himself. "Must've dozed off, AJ. Sorry 'bout that." "Oh you know I'm just bustin' your chops. Looks like you done a fine job harvestin' so far. Come on now." Applejack offered a hoof to help John get up. "It's time for lunch anyhow, didn't ya hear Granny ringing the bell?" The human pushed himself to his feet with AJ's help. "It's not gonna be hay again, is it? Blegh." "Oh don't you give me that, mister. You love Granny's hay sandwiches!" Applejack glanced upward to her human farmhoof as they strolled towards her home. "Heh heh. I know, but I shouldn't! Humans don't eat hay. Heck, I just don't know how she makes 'em taste so damn good!" "Maybe it's just good hay," Applejack suggested with a smile. "Must be something in the water." John idly mumbled as he watched a pegasus moving a cloud in the distance. A 50 year old man stood stock still with his arms spread out to his sides. And he didn't look one bit happy about that. "How much longer Rarity?" He complained. If he was going to be standing in one place, he would rather it would be behind the wheel of a ship. The dressmaker placed another pin in the hem of the human's sleeve. "Oh Vernon, darling, you simply can't rush perfection." "I don't see why you have to go through with all this." "Ugh, and have you wear those rags in my presence? I'm sorry dear, but if you are going to be my escort to the Horseshoe Riverboat Casino, you simply must. Look. Presentable." Vern rolled his eyes. He'd been looking forward to their casino trip for weeks. Hitting the poker and blackjack tables, with a beautiful lady (even if she was a horse), and in a sharp new suit. Sounded like a much-needed good time to him. But Rarity's meticulous attention to detail was dragging this suit-fitting out much longer than he would've liked. "Spike! Another pin please!" The little dragon waddled over to Rarity, pincushion in hand. "Spike, at your service, milady." He gave Vernon the stinkeye. There was one thing that made this worthwhile for Vern: the staring contest with Spike. The little drake seemed to hang around Rarity almost as much as Vern did. Apparently though, this was a recent development. In fact, it seems to have started at just about the same time that Vern started having tea with Rarity on a regular basis. And the human knew it wasn't coincidence. Oh, he knew he was in this little guy's territory. Now, Rarity was a wonderful conversationalist and they quite enjoyed each other's company. But Vern wasn't interested in her in that way, and he honestly didn't think Rarity had any… more interest in him either. But Vern just loved toying with Spike. Rarity caught a glimpse of Vern squinting at Spike. When she turned around to look at the little guy, he was suddenly looking away and whistling innocently. "Hmm," she hummed in thought. "Jakey!" The heavy set 60-something man let the plate he was washing settle on the bottom of the sink, and turned around. "Pinkie… don't call me 'Jakey'." "Oops! Sorry Jakey, I mean Jake!" The older man grumbled and went back to washing dishes, deciding to ignore Pinkie's presence. "I have a surprise for you!" Jacob rubbed the bridge of his nose with soaking wet fingers, getting dish soap bubbles all over his face. "I don't want any surprises Pinkie." "But it'll cheer you up!" "What makes you think I need cheering up?" "Weeeeeell, you were pretty happy after you got here. But for the last 67 and a half days, it seems like you're always all grumpy McGrumpyPants, and when you're not grumpy, you're just downright mopey. I've tried everything to get you to smile, but nothing works." Her voice suddenly became hushed, "And now I know why. Johnny told me." Jake's expression soured even more at the reminder of the tragic death of his wife and daughter, some years before. His recent brush with death had instilled him with a new desire to live, but time had begun to remind him once more of just how alone he was. Both in this world and in his. "But anypony can see you've got a bad case of the blues! And Pinkie Pie's got just the cure for it!" He continued scrubbing dishes. "All you gotta do is come with me!" "...I'm on the clock Pinkie. I don't get off 'til seven." "Oh it's ok, Silver Platter owes me a favor!" "…" "I already asked him if you could have the rest of the day off!" "…" "He said yes." Staring into the bubbly dishwater, he contemplated whether his current work would be any less aggravating than following that annoying pink hairball for potentially the rest of the day. Well… his hands were awfully pruny. He sighed. "Fine." "Yay! Follow me!" And so Pinkie bounded off and led him far, far away from the restaurant, and off to an open spot of land. Well on the outskirts of Ponyville. "A hot air balloon ride? Really, Pinkie?" "No silly! It's what happens on the balloon ride! Come on, get in!" Pinkie jumped in the balloon's basket, followed by a reluctant Jake who squished into the basket beside her. At the very least, he reasoned, he'd get a bird's eye view of the town of Ponyville. Upon getting in, he noticed some random items were coming along for the ride. But he knew better than to question Pinkie's logic on any given matter. Some time later, they were airborne, and floating (quite literally) among the clouds. Somehow, by rowing oars over the sides of the basket, Pinkie was able to maneuver the balloon such that the basket was within an arm's reach of a particular little cloud. Pinkie held a hoof up to her lips, "Shhh." This cloud happened to be very colorful, as a certain rainbow-colored pegasus was asleep on it, snoring obnoxiously. Jake and Pinkie exchanged glances several times, with her giggling silently all the while. Until the ordinary – yet out of place – items in the basket began to fit into place in Jake's mind. "No," he whispered in disbelief. "Really?" Pinkie nodded vigorously. "You wanna…?" He pointed to Rainbow Dash sleeping on the cloud. She nodded again. Somehow, miraculously, the tiny ghost of a smile etched its way onto Jake's face and he bent down to whisper in Pinkie's ear. "Well… we gotta get her to turn over first." "Way ahead of you," Pinkie whispered back. She grabbed a long wooden pole, and from one end there dangled a purple feather on a length of string. She held it out of the balloon and over her friend, making the feather dance on Rainbow's side. She flinched several times in her sleep and finally scratched the itch, rolling onto her back in the process. Jake, knowing the rest, took a big heaping spoonful of whipped cream from a mixing bowl, and carefully let it slide off the spoon and onto the bottom of one of Rainbow's lazily outstretched forehooves. Pinkie, still smiling like mad, gave Jake the long pole with the feather hanging from it. He couldn't help but smile as he held the pole, making the feather gently brush against Rainbow's nose. She twitched and snorted in her sleep until she finally rubbed her muzzle with a hoof full of whipped cream! Rainbow snorted and coughed, sitting up and opening her eyes. "Pinkie PIE!" she growled. Pinkie grit her teeth in worry that she had upset her friend. But Rainbow was soon doing a bad job of stifling her own laughter, with which Pinkie and Jake happily joined in. As their chuckles tapered off, Rainbow asked Jake, "You know I'm getting you back for this, right?" "I wouldn't expect any less!" "Me neither!" Pinkie noted. "That means you too Pinkie!" Rainbow flicked her hoof at Pinkie, spattering her with whipped cream. Jake was quick to react, grabbing the bowl full of it and flinging a spoonful at Rainbow. After a brief whipped cream barrage, with no clear victor, Rainbow licked some from her lips and asked, "Well since you both ruined my nap, how 'bout we go prank some other ponies? …Or humans I guess?" Pinkie looked expectantly at Jake, who smiled wryly and said, "I think I'm feeling a bit like my old self again." "Look, I gotta do this, ok?" The scrawny young man looked to be just entering adulthood. "You gotta let me do it little guy." Though he was already 22. "Ow!" The little white rabbit kicked him in the shin. "Hey! Don't run away from me! That doesn't solve anything!" The bunny bounded off around the cottage, while the young man tried miserably to corner him. "Please come back? C'mon! You agreed to it! Don't you trust me?" Angel stopped bouncing for just a moment to shake his head 'no.' "But you trust her, right? She asked me to do it. She wouldn't have asked me if she didn't trust me, right?" The bunny stopped to think. He scratched his little chin with a paw. "What are you afraid of, anyway?" Angel pointed to Robert and then mimed viciously eating his own paw. He then dramatically fell over and held up a little white flower, pretending to be dead. "Little guy, there's a BEAR out there, and you think I'm gonna eat you?" He crossed his little arms and gave a grim nod of his head. Bob rubbed his temples. "Look, this isn't going to work out. I've been coming to Fluttershy's house a lot lately... It's the only place around here that I feel like I… fit in, I guess. And I don't think I'm- well, no. I'm not going home. At all. So I have to fit in somewhere." Angel tentatively hopped a little closer to his giant pursuer. "This is it, Angel. This is what I have now. I like helping Fluttershy with her little animals. I like Fluttershy." Angel squinted his eyes at the human, who was now sitting on the floor. "Not like that, little guy. She's just… nice. Everyone else in town is friendly and all… but she's the only one who really sees me like I'm a person, ya know?" The bunny hopped closer. Robert stared at the floor in regret. Angel closed the distance between them and tapped him on the leg. Having got the young man's attention, he merely looked at him and nodded knowingly. "You do know what I mean?" Angel nodded again. "Is that why you like Fluttershy too?" A long pause, then a very slight nod. "Maybe we have something in common then, little guy." The white rabbit now stuck out one of his tiny little paws, offering it to him. "You want a truce?" Angel nodded vigorously. "Alright, I promise not to eat you, and you promise to stop kicking me whenever Fluttershy's not looking." Angel raised an eyebrow. "Or at all, actually. Stop kicking me altogether, that's what I mean. Those tiny little feet of yours kind of hurt. Deal?" Bob held out his hand. The white rabbit nodded again and they shook on it. "Ok, now that we have an agreement, can I finally take those curlers out of your tail?" Angel shrugged and laid on his belly. Bob gently removed the curlers. "There. I think I see why you go through all the trouble. Looks pretty good little guy." Just then, Fluttershy walked in from outside, with two squirrels perched on her back. Angel came bouncing up to her, showing off his fluffy tail. "Oh Angel, your tail looks perfect! Nice and fluffy. Thank you so much Robert!" "Eh, no big deal." He smiled. "I know he's not the easiest little bunny to get along with, but I'm sure he'll warm up to you soon." Fluttershy smiled in that sweet, kind way that only she can smile. Robert and Angel exchanged glances. "I think so too." "Hiya… captain," Peter greeted old Ed. "Hello Peter." Ed looked up. "Why do you have a twirly moustache drawn on your face?" "Jake pulled a fast one on me." He shrugged. "Haven't seen the old man happier since we got here, actually." He smiled warmly. "Hmm, well good for him. I'm glad someone's enjoying himself." "So, uh, captain-" Ed sighed loudly, "I'm not your captain anymore Peter, you know that…" Pete smiled at that. "You'll always be my captain, captain." Ed merely looked up from his book. "I uh, that is, uh… me and the guys heard that you might be… taking what's-his-name up on his offer. That griffon captain." "Scratchy." "Yeah, him." A long pause. "I am." "I can understand that. You sure you don't want to stick around Ponyville though? It's a pretty chill place. The food's pretty good – even if it's all vegetarian – the people are friendly, and the chicks are foxy." "Chicks?" Ed asked, one eyebrow arched. "Yeah, you know. Broads. The ladies." Pete wiggled his eyebrows up and down suggestively. "You mean to tell me that… you…?! With a- with a… a horse?!" "Yeah, me and Lyra are pretty tight." Ed let out a disgusted groan and put his face in his palm. "Hey she's the same as any other mama in bed, only thang is her titties are down here-" "JESUS CHRIST, I don't want to know!" "Sorry captain," Pete conceded, holding his hands behind his back and looking like a child being scolded. "Stop calling me captain! I sank the damn Fitz, I've no right to be called 'captain' anymore! I'm the reason you're stuck here and fucking a goddamn magical unicorn!" Pete merely stayed silent and avoided eye contact. In a way, Ed truly was still his captain, his leader. He's the only man I have left to look up to, Pete reflected. And maybe he always will be… Ed took a slow, deep breath and calmed himself. "I'm sorry Peter… I- I shouldn’t have yelled at you." He sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry for everything. It's my fault we're all stuck here, and trying to make the best of things. And I suppose I shouldn't judge you for… coping in your own sick, depraved way." "Look captain, I know it's not something I'd go telling everyone back home about… but it's like you said. I'm just working with what I got. And that Lyra, ooh boy, does she give me a lot to work with, know what I'm saying?" Ed's look of bemusement quickly wiped the smirk off Pete's face. "Sorry." "It's alright Pete. Maybe you can be happy here. I'm glad somebody can. But me? I don't know. Maybe I'm too old for change. Maybe I'm too stuck in my ways. But I just don't feel like I fit in around here." "You sure you're not just homesick captain?" "I am. I damn well am homesick. I miss my wife…" He paused for a moment, holding a hand over his eyes. "I miss my ship. And my job, my house. I miss being able to walk around in public places without sticking out like a sore thumb. I know they don't mean anything by it, but these ponies can't help staring at us. We're… not meant to be here. I should be at the bottom of that godforsaken lake with my ship and the rest of my crew. And back home, pfft, we're just… gone. We're dead. Somewhere out there, there's a bell tolling for all of us. Right now my wife…" Ed buried his face in his hands. "She's crying at my funeral. A- And there's nothing I can do about it. No way I can comfort her… t- tell her I'm alright at least…" "I understand captain." Ed sniffed. "No you don't understand. You didn't leave anything behind." "Hey, I had family just like you. And a girlfriend… Joanne. She was just the… sweetest little thang, captain." Pete took a slow deep breath, it seemed just a tiny bit ragged. "She had an ass like an angel, you would not believe. Sometimes I think… I didn't even deserve her, man. Like she was too damn good for a fuck up like me." He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I'm gonna miss her… and I'm gonna miss home, but I gotta move on, ya know?" Ed nodded sagely. "I just need something to take my mind off all of this. Some work will do me good." Pete just nodded solemnly. Ed McQuinn waited for seven days. For seven days he trudged down to the Baltimare docks from his crummy hotel. And for those seven days he waited, walking around the filthy cobblestone shipyard, his hands in his pockets, kicking rocks here and there. Making idle chit-chat with some of the pony dockworkers on their breaks, lending a hand to others in their work. At the ends of those seven days he went back to his hotel at night and tried – and failed – to sleep. But on the eighth day, just as he finished lending a hand in moving a shipment of barrels, a ship's horn blew in the distance. He squinted at the horizon and saw a familiar iron freight ship on the horizon. It was his escape. His hope. Demigods and the mystical powers of real life magic couldn't help him, but this one old freighter and its crew and captain could. It would never make things right, it simply couldn't. But old Ed hoped that, in some small way, it might make everything just a little bit easier. He hoped that it might earn him his place in this world. So that, with any luck, he could finally say farewell to the world he left behind, and make peace with his loss. Ed stood at the very edge of the dock, as though he was ready to jump in and swim to his salvation. But, as luck would have it, salvation saw fit to fly to him, on muddy golden wings. The burly eye-patch wearing griffon made a hasty and sloppy landing next to the human. Though despite his haste, he merely looked up to the human with his one eye, the edges of his mouth turned just slightly upward in a sly smile. He held out a claw. Ed looked at the offered claw, then into Captain Scratchy's eye. Ed couldn't help but smile himself, though his eyes seemed to water. He extended his own hand and they shook warmly. This would be the beginning of Ed McQuinn's new life. Author's Note And so ends the saga. Just another reminder that this was a writing experiment for me. I'm sure it's against what most writers believe about narration. I tried to deliver as much story in as few words as possible, without really 'telling' as versus 'showing.' So far I think it's gone well. Let me know how you liked it. It was also never supposed to be long. Or have some complex action packed plot. No, it was only meant to be a little exposé on how some people would react to being dropped in pony world. And not in some in-depth and highly philosophical way, but in a much simpler one. I know I could have gone all different ways with this story, but this is the one I felt was right. Again, let me know how you liked it. Or didn't.
We're holding our own...This is dedicated to all the mariners who lost their lives on the Great Lakes. Please note that the names have been changed out of respect, and some other stuff has been changed and/or hyped up for purposes of entertainment. If you want a little something to set the mood, no song could be more apropos than THIS. Lake Superior, North America About 15 miles Northwest of Whitefish Bay Aboard the SS Edmund Fitzgerald November 10, 1975 7:10 pm "How are you doing, Ed?" asked the fuzzy, distorted voice on the radio. The voice in question belonged to Bernie Cooper, captain of the SS Arthur M. Anderson. "We're holding our own." Not many other choice phrases could have been vague enough to gloss over the sad truth. Edward McQuinn had seen his fair share of bad seas, and in fact prided himself upon being able to wrangle the worst of weather. But today, ol' Superior was throwing her worst at him. Both radars knocked out by the winter storm three hours ago, waves relentlessly breaking over the deck, two ballast tank vents missing, and the Mighty Fitz was listing so bad to starboard that old Ed wouldn't even be able to set his cup of coffee down on the table without it sliding clean off… that is, if the ship wasn't rolling over 25 foot waves at the moment. Sailing blind without radars in the darkness and heavy snowfall, Ed's travelling companion Bernie had to lead him through the tempest over the radio. Ed looked out the bridge windows, to the deck of the ship. What he saw made him drop his coffee mug. It shattered, spilling the no-longer-warm liquid upon the floor, like the waves spilling over the railings onto the deck that Ed could clearly see was unnaturally twisted in the midsection. She was just about to break apart... "CAPTAIN!" shouted Vernon O'Daniel, who was manning the wheel. The good captain turned his head to the bow windows, expecting to see the snowstorm and turbulent sea that was Superior, but instead only saw a wall of blues and whites. What came next happened so quickly, no one would even remember it. Tempest tossed and half-drowned in the frigid, turbulent waters, old Captain McQuinn surfaced from the water and drew a deep breath of cold air that burned his lungs. The first coherent thought that his mind could piece together at that point was: 'It's over…' And it very much would have been all over for him and his crew. He could not recall how he wound up out of the ship's bridge and into the water, but one thing was certain: if you fell overboard in the icy waters of Superior, especially in a storm as bad as this, it was all over for you. But despite the trauma and the frigid cold, Ed's head was starting to clear, and soon he heard voices. His men. He couldn't see anyone in the dark and amidst the rain. But then all of a sudden, he could. He saw Vern, floating not 20 feet away, and being jostled up and down by 10 foot waves, as Ed was. Why could he suddenly see in the dark? DING DING A ship's bell? The Anderson! Was she really that close? There was some hope after all, they were caught in the other ship's searchlight! They would be saved! And saved they were. A lifesaver tied to a rope was thrown to them, and all the men present clung to it for dear life. They were reeled in and hoisted up on deck one by one. The captain was the second to be brought up. On his hands and knees, the 63 year old man coughed and wheezed and shivered violently. Next to him, Vern the wheelsman, faired not much better, but took the time to look up and attempt to thank his savior. What he did instead was stare until he finally attempted to tap on Ed's shoulder. Of course his blind attempt at 'tapping' was more like poking and slapping the captain. He didn't get his attention until he practically backhanded Ed's face, unintentionally of course. Ed managed to look up at Vern, only to see him staring off at something else. Ed followed his gaze and stared as well. And what he saw was, what, in his mind at the time, could only be described as… …a giant four-legged eagle in a black raincoat and matching hat. Who was curiously staring right back at them with a feathery eyebrow cocked way up. And it spoke, "An' what manner o' creature be you, matey?" Neither men had the strength to respond. What was left of the Fitz's crew sat huddled together on the floor of a warm room inside the ship they were rescued by, now quite obviously NOT the SS Anderson. They were stripped naked and given blankets. You know, because their clothes were wet… Every man in the room noticed something, but none dared speak it. There were far too few of them. Too many faces missing. Most dared not think about it at the moment. After some time, a griffon entered the room. The men had already conversed with some of the crewmembers and knew the name of their species, but could not discern much else in their state of shock and hypothermia. The solidly built griffon sat behind a desk, on a chair interestingly enough. The stylish white hat he removed from his head and placed on the desk identified him as the captain. He had a muddy golden coat, with off-white feathers, and he wore a black eye patch over his right eye, under which ruffled and uneven feathers implied some sort of scarring. "Uh… hello." He smiled unsurely. "I'm Captain Redbeak… but you all can call me Scratchy, all my crew does. They say you're called humans?" The group of men nodded. "And from which land do you hail?" Ed, taking initiative as captain of his crew, cleared his throat and said, "The United States of America." "Hmm, can’t say I've heard of it." Scratchy scratched the scraggly feathers under his beak with a talon. The men gaped in shocked silence. "I take it you were sailing these waters?" "I'm not so sure now…" Ed responded, "is this Lake Superior?" "Lake?! This is the East Ocean!" Scratchy gawked as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. The men murmured, they had all tasted the salty water, but had chalked it up to the trauma of being flung overboard into freezing waters in the middle of a violent storm. Old Ed only stammered in a vain attempt to ask where the 'East Ocean' was, but instead fell back on a more conversational question, "What's your heading?" "Horseshoe Bay." Scratchy saw where this was going, rolled his one eye around in his head, and added, "Equestria." The six men from the Fitz went below decks and got acquainted with the griffon crew. "Treat them like proper guests!" Captain Redbeak ordered. Meanwhile, the two captains sat alone in Scratchy's quarters and talked over a meal of some kind of red meat, bread, and cooked vegetables. They mostly made small talk, about their home towns, their careers, and so forth. When the topic turned to the ship they were currently aboard… "…she's an iron steamboat, she is. None of that old fashioned wood 'n sails the ponies still use," Scratchy smiled proudly. "We're hauling iron ore, Equestria's finally starting a little bit of an industrial revolution. Took 'em long enough." A moment of silence passed between the two, Scratchy could see he struck a sensitive topic. "Don't be so hard on yourself," Scratchy leaned over and patted Ed on the back. "I've lost two ships myself." Ed looked up into the other captain's eye. "Have you ever lost a crewmember?" "I… no. I have not…" Scratchy's brow was furrowed in concern for his fellow captain. The shipless captain looked back down at his food again. "It's my fault. I failed them," he despaired, looking as though he was on the verge of tears. "If… if I hadn't pushed the Fitz so damn hard…" Scratchy sighed and opened a drawer in his desk. "Well, I can't get you you're crew back. But I got a solution for that anyhow." He plunked a glass bottle filled with amber liquid on the desk. Below decks… "CHEERS!" Glasses and beer bottles clashed together, adding to a cacophony of incomprehensible shouting, laughter, and guitar music. The humans had made a toast to their lost comrades, but they themselves were so full of life. The shock of going overboard, and the sweet reprieve of rescue had instilled in them a new sense of life, and they were just happy to still be living it. The griffons however, were merely content for an excuse to break out the beers. The two crews separated by species got along well. Both groups being sailors helped, but what really sold it for the griffons was discovered before dinner… "Ugh, you don't eat hay, do you?" The resident cook asked his human guests. Earl was a completely gray griffon, medium gray feathers and fur. "Cuz we ain't got none of that," he griped, pushing his extremely thick spectacles back into place on his beak. Confused as he was about everything, Jacob McAvoy, the 62 year old first mate, was just going with the flow when he answered, "Uh… well, I'm a meat 'n potatoes man, myself." He was a short, stocky man with an unusually charismatic high pitched voice. "Meat you say?" The chef raised both of his feathery eyebrows over his heavy duty glasses, then grinned like the cat that ate the canary (a particularly unusual analogy given the griffon anatomy). He was ecstatic that he would get to cook for a new race of fellow meat eaters. It was explained to the humans that most of the other intelligent species on the planet were herbivores. And while the crew of the Fitz still had many questions, most were shoved aside in favor of celebration and fun. One of the younger griffons by the name of Edgar, pulled a bottle from under his coffee-with-cream colored wing and offered it to one of the humans. 22 year old Robert Stein was a scrawny young man, and he was still a bit shaken up about the whole 'nearly drowning then being rescued by a ship crewed by mythical creatures' thing. "Uh… no thanks, I d-don't drink…" Before Edgar could look too disheartened, Jake McAvoy bumped into the young man, carrying his own near-empty bottle of beer. "C'mon kid! We almost DIED out there!" He pointed in an arbitrary direction. "Live a little!" "Uh… alright…" Jake patted the kid on the back and went on his merry way. Edgar put the mouth of the bottle in his beak, popped the cap off, and handed the beer to Bob with a cheeky smile. "Whoa… Groovy," Bob replied while accepting the beer. "Neat little trick I learned from Taylor. So uh, what's your rank?" Bob took a swig of the beverage and cringed as it went down. "Deck cadet." "No kidding? Me too!" And so the night wore on and the men and griffons got to know each other, some a little too well… "…and, and then she said, 'does it always look like that?!' " A young human deckhand named Peter Lowes finished the punch line and the room erupted in laughter. "Damn, Pete, you've had some crazy mollies!" Earl commented. "Alright gentlemen! And gentle-griffons!" Vern slammed his hand on the card table, rattling everyone's beer bottles. "Whatdya say we make this round interesting for a change?!" "Oi! Matey, ye ain't got no gold to be bettin'!" Accused the resident pirate wannabe griffon, Doubloon, his name matching his golden coat. He was the first to greet old Vern when he came aboard. "He's got a point Vern," added John Piccard, a young watchman from the Fitz. "Well…" started another griffon, Taylor, who was shuffling a deck of playing cards, "I suppose we could lend you some dough…" the brown coated, yellow feathered watchbird said with a sly smile. "That's what I'm talkin' about!" Vern rubbed his hands together. "Hurry up and deal!" Captain Redbeak and Captain McQuinn stood next to one another, both leaning against the bow railing, observing the land they were headed for… "Equestria," Scratchy idly commented. Though it was a simple statement to the griffon captain, it was a question of great mystery to his human companion. Ed had seen the charts, he knew it was a continent. And it was still far away, but his old eyes could make out the vast coast, stretching out as far as the eye could see, fading into the clear blue skies to both left and right. He could see mountains a fair distance beyond the coast, some with snowy peaks that reflected the morning sun that was warming his back. Scratchy leaned forward and spit some tobacco juice over the railing. "I already wired them," he said, without looking away from the scenery. "The Equestrian government seems pretty interested in you lot." Ed silently nodded. He could see a lighthouse. "Don't worry none," the griffon captain gave his human companion a firm but friendly slap on the back. "The ponies will take good care of ya. They're very diplomatic… I'd wager they'll think you're all ambassadors of some far away island nation or something." Scratchy didn't exactly believe these humans were from some other world entirely, but he had never seen anything like them either. So he decided not to pass judgment on his guests. Another moment of nothing but the peaceful sound of calm wind and waves passed between the two. "They're a good people, the ponies. Don't you let nobird tell you otherwise." Scratchy pointed a talon at Ed to make his point. Ed glanced at Scratchy then looked back to the sea. He sighed. "What am I going to do?" he asked in a neutral tone. "Well… I might be able get some jobs for you and your crew at Griffhala Shipping. I can't promise ya a captain's position, but ya won't be a deckclaw neither." He smiled up at the old man. "Whenever you're ready, we're always making port in Horseshoe Bay, just look us up. Same goes for your crew." Ed forced a little smile. "Thank you." His smile fell. "For everything…" Scratchy shrugged. "Don't mention it. Glad to help my fellow sailors." He repositioned his hat. "I better get back to the bridge, we'll be docking soon." "Alright men…" Ed thought it best to give his crew a little pep talk before disembarking. "These 'ponies' are going to be our hosts until further notice, despite how incredibly ridiculous that sounds. So I expect you all to be on your best behavior. Do I make myself clear?" A round of half-hearted 'yes sir's came from the six men. "Scratchy also said they might be able to find us a way home." The men perked up at this. "So this might be our one chance. Don't screw it up." The last griffon walked down the gang plank and off the ship. Captain McQuinn took a deep breath, and lead his men down the gang plank as well. Author's Note Mane 6 appear in the next chapter. Comment and let me know what you think! Don't forget to give me a thumb! Go check out my other fics, and I'd certainly appreciate a 'Follow' if it's not too much trouble! Also, the griffon Scratchy Redbeak is a character borrowed, with permission, from Banishment Decree by ChuckFinley. You should go read it. Now. :P
Port...The men stared. And the ponies stared right back. But Ed would not let this stand, he had to maintain authority and professionalism. It was part of his job. "Hello, I'm Captain Edward McQuinn, pleasure to meet you." He got down on one arthritic knee, requiring some effort and internal cursing on his part, and extended his hand to the peach-coated pony, who was quite short compared to the tall upright human, although not much more so than the griffons. He cleared his throat and extended his foreleg to meet the man's shake. "Well it is a pleasure to meet you as well! I'm Mayor Cobbler, but you can call me Peachy!" Ed was keen to notice the lack of horseshoe and he briefly wondered what kind of dirt from the cobblestone floor of the docks he was currently touching. He wasn't sure how to perform a proper 'hoofshake,' but he assumed a firm grip would still be part of the recommended method. Peachy flinched only slightly upon having his hoof encircled by fleshy fingers. Ed judged that this was only because of the awkwardness of meeting a human for the first time, after all, he felt about the same meeting a pony. "And this is my assistant Note Scribe," Peachy gestured over to the slim white mare with the curly golden hair. She silently kept her distance, not at all frightened, but still remaining wary of these strange newcomers. The young deckhand Pete leaned a little to his left and said quietly to John, "I could get down with that," as he looked at the mayor's assistant. John's eyes followed Pete's gaze to the young, shapely mare. His eyes returned to Pete, giving him a look of disgust. "Are you saying you'd shag a horse?" "She ain't exactly a horse…" Pete replied skeptically, his hands held out, palms up. John scowled at his friend, "What do you mean? She's got four hooves and everything!" "Don't flip yo wig man. I'm just saying." He shrugged. The city's well-fed mayor finished his long-winded introduction and looked beyond Ed to address his remaining crew. "Gentle…colts, welcome to Baltimare!" He held a hoof out to his side as if to present his glorious city, but all the humans could see were dingy dock buildings. Pete couldn't help but snicker, while all the others were thinking this pudgy gray-haired pony mayor had simply mispronounced 'Baltimore.' "Well, let's get you gents some lunch! I know a swell restaurant, you'll love it. I'll show you the sights while we're about town!" Jake McAvoy patted his large stomach and nodded in approval. "I could go for some grub." As the mayor and his assistant led the way, old Ed took one last glance at the docked ship that had rescued his men and himself. A big iron freighter, with a simple paint scheme of black on the lower half of the hull, and white for the upper, but with a tiny gold stripe separating the two colors. It didn't exactly have the same, more efficient layout as most of the freighters he knew from his world, like the Fitz, but it seemed like it got the job done anyhow. Scratchy had told him that out of all the ships he had ever helmed, this one was his all time favorite ship, despite how old and overused it was… Ed squinted at the lettering denoting the ship's name… The G.S.S. Gildash. Captain McQuinn felt like he was eating a slice of home. He brought the silver fork to his mouth and bit down on a piece of meaty goodness. Although he couldn't help being painfully aware that the peach-colored, very much vegetarian stallion sitting across from him was the only equine in the entirety of the griffon restaurant. Even his secretary had abandoned him, not daring to venture into the establishment. And he looked just a tiny bit uneasy. "I'm sorry, is it bothering you?" The captain glanced down at his juicy steak. "Ah, don't worry about it, I'm used to it," Peachy lied, and continued to take careful bites of his salad straight out of the bowl. "So tell me, where exactly are you from?" "Ha. Ohio." "Can't say I've heard of it." "Hmm," Ed merely mumbled with food in his mouth. "So about how far away is this 'Ohio'?" Ed looked up from his plate to a small, oddly-proportioned, peach-coated pony eating a salad, who was seated at a table in a restaurant (that happened to be staffed by mythical creatures), the mayor of a city of ponies, with whom Ed was carrying on a conversation. "Pretty damned far, I'd say." "Stallion of few words, are we? It's alright if you don't want to tell me, I understand. International diplomacy can be tricky when you're in a more… casual setting." Peachy feigned insult. Ed sighed and put down his fork. "I don't really want to talk about it in front of my crew," he said quietly, and glanced over to his men. They were laughing and enjoying their free feast, courtesy of Baltimare's taxpayers. Mayor Cobbler gave Captain McQuinn a knowing look and nodded his head off to the side. Ed took his hint and the two left the table and found a corner near the restrooms to talk in private. "I'm sorry about that. We're a long, long way from home, and I just don't think it's quite sunken in for them yet." Ed sighed. "You're not going to find our home on any map. Believe me I checked." "Well… perhaps it's uncharted territory," Peachy theorized with an air of intellect and a swirly hoof gesture. "I'm afraid you don't understand. Your whole world is different. We humans, we've charted our whole planet, and this place? It is definitely not on the map. Not on our map." "What are you saying?" Peachy asked incredulously. "Weren't you shipwrecked?" "Yes. In a freshwater lake. Not an ocean. Go figure that one out." "I see… Well then… the only possible explanation… is magic." Ed cracked a little smile, "Ha ha, very funny." And so the whole concept of magic was explained to the old man. Who then passed on a word of caution about unicorns to his men. After lunch, Peachy lead the humans on a brief sightseeing tour of Baltimare. The big industrial harbor made the city look a lot larger than it actually was. The sights didn't go far beyond Town Hall and a few statues and fountains. Then the time came to say goodbye to Baltimare's mayor and his introverted assistant, who had conveniently rejoined them after lunch. They stood on a train station platform awaiting the train that was just pulling in now. But before it came to a halt, a gold-coated griffon wearing a bandana descended from the sky and landed right in front of the humans. "Ahoy mateys-" "Hey! No flying allowed near the platforms! You'll have to-" "Oi you! Shut your mouth! I'm only deliverin' a message, savvy?" The bespectacled train station worker just opened his mouth a few times before backing down and walking away. "Howdy Doubloon," Vern greeted the gold griffon. "Fellas." The pirate wannabe tipped an imaginary hat. "As I was sayin', Cap'n Scratchy wanted to give you lot a message. 'e said good luck gettin' 'ome, and if you don't 'ave much luck, we'll be makin' port every week in 'orseshoe Bay for the next three months. So if any of you lot need a job, 'e'll help you out." The men all nodded grimly at this, considering the possibility, for the first time, that they might not return home. "Thank you for the message sailor. Doubloon was it?" Captain McQuinn asked. "That's me. I best be off, I've got plunderin' and pillagin' to be doin'!" He took to the air. "Another time, gents!" The crew bade him farewell, and took notice that a purple pony flanked by two gold armor clad ones was approaching them. "Princess Sparkle!" Mayor Cobbler hurried over from behind the humans and bowed before her. "Mr. Mayor, please skip the bowing, if you don't mind…" She protested. "Of course, of course! Gentlecolts, this is Princess Twilight Sparkle!" Peachy then began to mouth the word 'bow' and gesture with a hoof for the humans to do so. Twilight smiled in embarrassment and shook her head. "Please don't bow." "I'm Captain Ed McQuinn, and this is my crew." Unsure about royal formalities, Ed sheepishly offered his hand to shake. "It's such a pleasure to meet you! I can't wait to…" "Hey," Robert Stein whispered to his shipmates as the pony royalty and his captain made introductions. "Hey guys. L-look at her. Notice something off?" "Yeah," Pete began sarcastically, "She's a talking fucking horse…" Vern leaned back and cut in, "Can it wise guy. These ponies are taking us in. Show some goddamn respect." Pete threw his hands up defensively, "Hey I'm just sayin'." "No, look," Robert sheepishly pointed to the purple pony princess. "She has wings and a horn. I've been looking, none of the other ponies have both." "Man… you probably weren't looking hard enough." John casually commented. "While we're at it," Jake cut in, "What's up with the Romans?" He pointed a thumb at the guards. "…I'm just so excited!" Twilight was practically jumping up and down from whatever her and the captain were talking about. "Oh! I almost forgot, this is my assistant, Spike." She moved aside, exposing a shy pudgy purple reptile who smiled and waved his claw nervously. "Hey dude," Pete leaned over and whispered to John, "is that some kind of lizard?" "I dunno man, looks more like a dinosaur to me," John responded. Pete shot his friend a dirty look. "Dinosaurs are lizards man!" "Naw, they're extinct!" Pete put his face in the palm of his hand. Robert moved in between them, "Actually dinosaurs are more related to birds." "LAST CALL FOR BALTIMARE TO CANTERLOT! ALL ABOARD!" "Canterlot?" John commented. "Now that's a ridiculous name…" Vern added with a cocked eyebrow. "Hey what happened to respect, man?" Pete huffed at Vern. On the long journey to Canterlot, much was explained to both parties. Twilight understood now that these humans were not shipwrecked ambassadors on their way to make peace and trading arrangements (or war) with Equestria, as Twilight had heard it. She had a feeling that her mentor's lack of advice for this particular situation might have been Celestia's way of teaching her former student a new lesson in leadership: tales grow taller on down the line. But nevertheless, the newly crowned princess of friendship was even more ecstatic when she found out she was dealing with extra-dimensional sailors instead of a bunch of boring politicians from her own world. She made them a promise to do all she could to find them a way home. Although Ed was skeptical as to whether or not anything would come from her research on the reality-jump. To him this seemed all seemed to be a huge fluke of the powers that be. A mistake of God himself… or perhaps all part of His grand plan. But he refused to get too philosophical about this, even within the confines of his own mind, because he knew there was only one conclusion he would inevitably settle on. And he refused to believe he was dead. Still, the rest of the crew seemed optimistic enough about Twilight's endeavors to find them a way home. All of them… except for Jake. To the 62 year old first mate, it seemed pointless. He was once the happiest man aboard the mighty Fitz, his smile would brighten anyone's day. But after tragedy struck him he had lost his spirit. The poor man had been miserably depressed ever since he lost his beloved wife and daughter to a car accident two years before. The thought of just ending it all had crossed his mind, but his recent brush with death had instilled in him a new desire to live. There was nothing left for him back home except trying to find another crummy job so he could put food on his plate. Here, strange as this new world was, everyone he had met so far was kind and giving. And happy. To him, this seemed like a nice place to retire, even if he would have to start from scratch. And so they arrived in Canterlot. Names were exchanged, places seen, things explained, and, of course, a welcome party thrown. Courtesy of the bounciest pink pony the crew had ever met. "What?! You eat meat?!" The pink creature gawked in surprise at the humans. "Yeah… is that bad?" John asked. "Bad? Of course it's bad! Nopony told me! I would have had the party catered for it!" "Ha ha! Don't worry Pinkie, I'm sure we'll survive off cupcakes and cookies for one day." "I wish we had some beer though," Vern suggested, swirling the fruity punch around in his glass. "Beer? One sec!" Pinkie smiled and dashed out of the castle ballroom, stirring up confetti from the floor in her wake. "Honestly it's probably for the best that Pinkie didn't have the party catered to your… special diet." Rarity said as she approached the snack table. "I don't think any of us ponies would be comfortable being around dead animal carcasses." "Meh," Rainbow Dash interrupted as she casually leaned against the snack table, "Gilda used to eat meat around me all the time. Never bothered me." "Oh how uncouth," Rarity spat. Peter butt in, "Oh, lighten up lady. It’s not like we eat bleeding dead animals." Jake wandered over to the snack table. "Hey guys. Ladies." He gave a polite nod. "Hey John. What d'ya 'spose they're talking about over there." He pointed a cupcake towards Robert and Fluttershy, both sitting on the floor and chit-chatting about something. "I don't know but they seem to be getting along good." "Huh. Fluttershy's like the last pony I'd expect to make friends with a big scary monkey-monster," Rainbow added, much to the displeasure of her human company. "Not that I'm scared of you or anything. I mean, I could totally take you on," she said smugly. The humans kept silently staring at her until Rarity politely cleared her throat. "Oh, I mean… uh… no offense?" Rainbow bashfully shrugged after finally taking the hint. John rolled his eyes and asked no one in particular, "What do you think the captain and the royalty are talking about?" He looked over to his captain and three pony princesses. "Probably boring princess stuff," Rainbow scoffed. "I'm quite sure they're talking about serious political issues, having to do with your arrival," Rarity politely stated. "Yeah, like I said, boring princess stuff," the colorful pegasus repeated. Just then a loud rumbling noise was heard coming their way. Everyone looked to the ballroom doors that swung open, and in came Pinkie, rolling a large wooden barrel into the room… by walking backwards on top of it with her hind legs. Applejack trotted over and helped Pinkie stop the barrel from rolling. She took a quick glance at the stenciled letters on the barrel, and casually leaned on it. "Well, I'll be. Y'all sure are gettin' the royal treatment now! This here's the best darned cider in all of Equestria!" "I couldn't find any beer but cider's just as good! Maybe even better!" Pinkie exclaimed. "The best cider, you say?" Vern asked. "Yes sir! I know because I make it. This here's Sweet Apple Acres cider!" She said proudly. Peter inspected the barrel, "Cider?" He shrugged. "Alright! Let's get this party started!" Author's Note Hi guys! Long time, I know. Sadly, I haven't written much at all for the past few months, and this was on the backburner as it was. Anyhow, I intend to finish this story, but read below. It's important for me to note that this story was a writing experiment. I wanted to write as much story as possible with the fewest words. Granted, that's something you're always told not to do, hence the experiment. As a result, the pacing is extremely fast and it has jarring scene transitions, but I think it's a nice change in pace to simply drop all the words that aren't completely necessary to conveying the story. It is a simple story to boot, and I don't expect it to go beyond 3 or 4 chapters. Not that I'm cutting it short, again, I'm just intending for it to be a very short read. Let me know how it's been so far.
Setting sail...Pop Splash "Ahh! Cold! Cold!" Twilight Sparkle splashed around in the ice cold ocean she just fell into. "DISCORD!" "Oops!" The spirit of chaos snapped his fingers and in a flash, Twilight was warm and dry, sitting in a small dinghy that just appeared out of nowhere. "Sorry Twilight," Discord apologized with a sheepish grin. Twilight merely grumbled in response. Meanwhile Discord zipped to and fro, stopping to smell the ocean air here and there. There was nothing around the two. They were in the middle of the sea, with naught but water all around them in every direction as far as the eye could see. "I'm not finding anything, Twilight. There's some faint residual magic, but that's about it. No gaping hole between realities or anything of the sort." "Are you sure we're even in the right place?" "Of course I'm sure!" He produced a map and looked over it closely. "We're at the exact coordinates those lovely high-seas sailing griffons gave you." He threw the map up in the air, where it flapped away like a bird. Twilight leaned over the edge of the boat, looking around. "I don't feel anything either. You sure there's nothing you can do?" "I can do all sorts of things-!" "You know what I mean, Discord. Is there anything you can do for those humans?" His expression became slightly forlorn. "No, I'm afraid not." Three months later… A tall skinny man wiped the sweat from his brow as he sat down under shade of a tree. He looked upon the small field of wheat under the sunny sky, half of which had been harvested. The other half swayed in the breeze and seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. Only three months ago he was a watchman aboard the Edmund Fitzgerald, a sailor. Now, he was a farmhand. He was sweaty, dirty, muscles burning… a small smile graced his sweaty red face as he leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes. In a strange alien world filled with ponies and griffons and magic… he still felt like a man. An irregular ringing caught his ear. "John? Are you nappin' on the job? I should dock ya a day's pay." John tipped his hat up and looked up to see the sarcastic smirk on his employer's face. He couldn't help but smile himself. "Must've dozed off, AJ. Sorry 'bout that." "Oh you know I'm just bustin' your chops. Looks like you done a fine job harvestin' so far. Come on now." Applejack offered a hoof to help John get up. "It's time for lunch anyhow, didn't ya hear Granny ringing the bell?" The human pushed himself to his feet with AJ's help. "It's not gonna be hay again, is it? Blegh." "Oh don't you give me that, mister. You love Granny's hay sandwiches!" Applejack glanced upward to her human farmhoof as they strolled towards her home. "Heh heh. I know, but I shouldn't! Humans don't eat hay. Heck, I just don't know how she makes 'em taste so damn good!" "Maybe it's just good hay," Applejack suggested with a smile. "Must be something in the water." John idly mumbled as he watched a pegasus moving a cloud in the distance. A 50 year old man stood stock still with his arms spread out to his sides. And he didn't look one bit happy about that. "How much longer Rarity?" He complained. If he was going to be standing in one place, he would rather it would be behind the wheel of a ship. The dressmaker placed another pin in the hem of the human's sleeve. "Oh Vernon, darling, you simply can't rush perfection." "I don't see why you have to go through with all this." "Ugh, and have you wear those rags in my presence? I'm sorry dear, but if you are going to be my escort to the Horseshoe Riverboat Casino, you simply must. Look. Presentable." Vern rolled his eyes. He'd been looking forward to their casino trip for weeks. Hitting the poker and blackjack tables, with a beautiful lady (even if she was a horse), and in a sharp new suit. Sounded like a much-needed good time to him. But Rarity's meticulous attention to detail was dragging this suit-fitting out much longer than he would've liked. "Spike! Another pin please!" The little dragon waddled over to Rarity, pincushion in hand. "Spike, at your service, milady." He gave Vernon the stinkeye. There was one thing that made this worthwhile for Vern: the staring contest with Spike. The little drake seemed to hang around Rarity almost as much as Vern did. Apparently though, this was a recent development. In fact, it seems to have started at just about the same time that Vern started having tea with Rarity on a regular basis. And the human knew it wasn't coincidence. Oh, he knew he was in this little guy's territory. Now, Rarity was a wonderful conversationalist and they quite enjoyed each other's company. But Vern wasn't interested in her in that way, and he honestly didn't think Rarity had any… more interest in him either. But Vern just loved toying with Spike. Rarity caught a glimpse of Vern squinting at Spike. When she turned around to look at the little guy, he was suddenly looking away and whistling innocently. "Hmm," she hummed in thought. "Jakey!" The heavy set 60-something man let the plate he was washing settle on the bottom of the sink, and turned around. "Pinkie… don't call me 'Jakey'." "Oops! Sorry Jakey, I mean Jake!" The older man grumbled and went back to washing dishes, deciding to ignore Pinkie's presence. "I have a surprise for you!" Jacob rubbed the bridge of his nose with soaking wet fingers, getting dish soap bubbles all over his face. "I don't want any surprises Pinkie." "But it'll cheer you up!" "What makes you think I need cheering up?" "Weeeeeell, you were pretty happy after you got here. But for the last 67 and a half days, it seems like you're always all grumpy McGrumpyPants, and when you're not grumpy, you're just downright mopey. I've tried everything to get you to smile, but nothing works." Her voice suddenly became hushed, "And now I know why. Johnny told me." Jake's expression soured even more at the reminder of the tragic death of his wife and daughter, some years before. His recent brush with death had instilled him with a new desire to live, but time had begun to remind him once more of just how alone he was. Both in this world and in his. "But anypony can see you've got a bad case of the blues! And Pinkie Pie's got just the cure for it!" He continued scrubbing dishes. "All you gotta do is come with me!" "...I'm on the clock Pinkie. I don't get off 'til seven." "Oh it's ok, Silver Platter owes me a favor!" "…" "I already asked him if you could have the rest of the day off!" "…" "He said yes." Staring into the bubbly dishwater, he contemplated whether his current work would be any less aggravating than following that annoying pink hairball for potentially the rest of the day. Well… his hands were awfully pruny. He sighed. "Fine." "Yay! Follow me!" And so Pinkie bounded off and led him far, far away from the restaurant, and off to an open spot of land. Well on the outskirts of Ponyville. "A hot air balloon ride? Really, Pinkie?" "No silly! It's what happens on the balloon ride! Come on, get in!" Pinkie jumped in the balloon's basket, followed by a reluctant Jake who squished into the basket beside her. At the very least, he reasoned, he'd get a bird's eye view of the town of Ponyville. Upon getting in, he noticed some random items were coming along for the ride. But he knew better than to question Pinkie's logic on any given matter. Some time later, they were airborne, and floating (quite literally) among the clouds. Somehow, by rowing oars over the sides of the basket, Pinkie was able to maneuver the balloon such that the basket was within an arm's reach of a particular little cloud. Pinkie held a hoof up to her lips, "Shhh." This cloud happened to be very colorful, as a certain rainbow-colored pegasus was asleep on it, snoring obnoxiously. Jake and Pinkie exchanged glances several times, with her giggling silently all the while. Until the ordinary – yet out of place – items in the basket began to fit into place in Jake's mind. "No," he whispered in disbelief. "Really?" Pinkie nodded vigorously. "You wanna…?" He pointed to Rainbow Dash sleeping on the cloud. She nodded again. Somehow, miraculously, the tiny ghost of a smile etched its way onto Jake's face and he bent down to whisper in Pinkie's ear. "Well… we gotta get her to turn over first." "Way ahead of you," Pinkie whispered back. She grabbed a long wooden pole, and from one end there dangled a purple feather on a length of string. She held it out of the balloon and over her friend, making the feather dance on Rainbow's side. She flinched several times in her sleep and finally scratched the itch, rolling onto her back in the process. Jake, knowing the rest, took a big heaping spoonful of whipped cream from a mixing bowl, and carefully let it slide off the spoon and onto the bottom of one of Rainbow's lazily outstretched forehooves. Pinkie, still smiling like mad, gave Jake the long pole with the feather hanging from it. He couldn't help but smile as he held the pole, making the feather gently brush against Rainbow's nose. She twitched and snorted in her sleep until she finally rubbed her muzzle with a hoof full of whipped cream! Rainbow snorted and coughed, sitting up and opening her eyes. "Pinkie PIE!" she growled. Pinkie grit her teeth in worry that she had upset her friend. But Rainbow was soon doing a bad job of stifling her own laughter, with which Pinkie and Jake happily joined in. As their chuckles tapered off, Rainbow asked Jake, "You know I'm getting you back for this, right?" "I wouldn't expect any less!" "Me neither!" Pinkie noted. "That means you too Pinkie!" Rainbow flicked her hoof at Pinkie, spattering her with whipped cream. Jake was quick to react, grabbing the bowl full of it and flinging a spoonful at Rainbow. After a brief whipped cream barrage, with no clear victor, Rainbow licked some from her lips and asked, "Well since you both ruined my nap, how 'bout we go prank some other ponies? …Or humans I guess?" Pinkie looked expectantly at Jake, who smiled wryly and said, "I think I'm feeling a bit like my old self again." "Look, I gotta do this, ok?" The scrawny young man looked to be just entering adulthood. "You gotta let me do it little guy." Though he was already 22. "Ow!" The little white rabbit kicked him in the shin. "Hey! Don't run away from me! That doesn't solve anything!" The bunny bounded off around the cottage, while the young man tried miserably to corner him. "Please come back? C'mon! You agreed to it! Don't you trust me?" Angel stopped bouncing for just a moment to shake his head 'no.' "But you trust her, right? She asked me to do it. She wouldn't have asked me if she didn't trust me, right?" The bunny stopped to think. He scratched his little chin with a paw. "What are you afraid of, anyway?" Angel pointed to Robert and then mimed viciously eating his own paw. He then dramatically fell over and held up a little white flower, pretending to be dead. "Little guy, there's a BEAR out there, and you think I'm gonna eat you?" He crossed his little arms and gave a grim nod of his head. Bob rubbed his temples. "Look, this isn't going to work out. I've been coming to Fluttershy's house a lot lately... It's the only place around here that I feel like I… fit in, I guess. And I don't think I'm- well, no. I'm not going home. At all. So I have to fit in somewhere." Angel tentatively hopped a little closer to his giant pursuer. "This is it, Angel. This is what I have now. I like helping Fluttershy with her little animals. I like Fluttershy." Angel squinted his eyes at the human, who was now sitting on the floor. "Not like that, little guy. She's just… nice. Everyone else in town is friendly and all… but she's the only one who really sees me like I'm a person, ya know?" The bunny hopped closer. Robert stared at the floor in regret. Angel closed the distance between them and tapped him on the leg. Having got the young man's attention, he merely looked at him and nodded knowingly. "You do know what I mean?" Angel nodded again. "Is that why you like Fluttershy too?" A long pause, then a very slight nod. "Maybe we have something in common then, little guy." The white rabbit now stuck out one of his tiny little paws, offering it to him. "You want a truce?" Angel nodded vigorously. "Alright, I promise not to eat you, and you promise to stop kicking me whenever Fluttershy's not looking." Angel raised an eyebrow. "Or at all, actually. Stop kicking me altogether, that's what I mean. Those tiny little feet of yours kind of hurt. Deal?" Bob held out his hand. The white rabbit nodded again and they shook on it. "Ok, now that we have an agreement, can I finally take those curlers out of your tail?" Angel shrugged and laid on his belly. Bob gently removed the curlers. "There. I think I see why you go through all the trouble. Looks pretty good little guy." Just then, Fluttershy walked in from outside, with two squirrels perched on her back. Angel came bouncing up to her, showing off his fluffy tail. "Oh Angel, your tail looks perfect! Nice and fluffy. Thank you so much Robert!" "Eh, no big deal." He smiled. "I know he's not the easiest little bunny to get along with, but I'm sure he'll warm up to you soon." Fluttershy smiled in that sweet, kind way that only she can smile. Robert and Angel exchanged glances. "I think so too." "Hiya… captain," Peter greeted old Ed. "Hello Peter." Ed looked up. "Why do you have a twirly moustache drawn on your face?" "Jake pulled a fast one on me." He shrugged. "Haven't seen the old man happier since we got here, actually." He smiled warmly. "Hmm, well good for him. I'm glad someone's enjoying himself." "So, uh, captain-" Ed sighed loudly, "I'm not your captain anymore Peter, you know that…" Pete smiled at that. "You'll always be my captain, captain." Ed merely looked up from his book. "I uh, that is, uh… me and the guys heard that you might be… taking what's-his-name up on his offer. That griffon captain." "Scratchy." "Yeah, him." A long pause. "I am." "I can understand that. You sure you don't want to stick around Ponyville though? It's a pretty chill place. The food's pretty good – even if it's all vegetarian – the people are friendly, and the chicks are foxy." "Chicks?" Ed asked, one eyebrow arched. "Yeah, you know. Broads. The ladies." Pete wiggled his eyebrows up and down suggestively. "You mean to tell me that… you…?! With a- with a… a horse?!" "Yeah, me and Lyra are pretty tight." Ed let out a disgusted groan and put his face in his palm. "Hey she's the same as any other mama in bed, only thang is her titties are down here-" "JESUS CHRIST, I don't want to know!" "Sorry captain," Pete conceded, holding his hands behind his back and looking like a child being scolded. "Stop calling me captain! I sank the damn Fitz, I've no right to be called 'captain' anymore! I'm the reason you're stuck here and fucking a goddamn magical unicorn!" Pete merely stayed silent and avoided eye contact. In a way, Ed truly was still his captain, his leader. He's the only man I have left to look up to, Pete reflected. And maybe he always will be… Ed took a slow, deep breath and calmed himself. "I'm sorry Peter… I- I shouldn’t have yelled at you." He sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry for everything. It's my fault we're all stuck here, and trying to make the best of things. And I suppose I shouldn't judge you for… coping in your own sick, depraved way." "Look captain, I know it's not something I'd go telling everyone back home about… but it's like you said. I'm just working with what I got. And that Lyra, ooh boy, does she give me a lot to work with, know what I'm saying?" Ed's look of bemusement quickly wiped the smirk off Pete's face. "Sorry." "It's alright Pete. Maybe you can be happy here. I'm glad somebody can. But me? I don't know. Maybe I'm too old for change. Maybe I'm too stuck in my ways. But I just don't feel like I fit in around here." "You sure you're not just homesick captain?" "I am. I damn well am homesick. I miss my wife…" He paused for a moment, holding a hand over his eyes. "I miss my ship. And my job, my house. I miss being able to walk around in public places without sticking out like a sore thumb. I know they don't mean anything by it, but these ponies can't help staring at us. We're… not meant to be here. I should be at the bottom of that godforsaken lake with my ship and the rest of my crew. And back home, pfft, we're just… gone. We're dead. Somewhere out there, there's a bell tolling for all of us. Right now my wife…" Ed buried his face in his hands. "She's crying at my funeral. A- And there's nothing I can do about it. No way I can comfort her… t- tell her I'm alright at least…" "I understand captain." Ed sniffed. "No you don't understand. You didn't leave anything behind." "Hey, I had family just like you. And a girlfriend… Joanne. She was just the… sweetest little thang, captain." Pete took a slow deep breath, it seemed just a tiny bit ragged. "She had an ass like an angel, you would not believe. Sometimes I think… I didn't even deserve her, man. Like she was too damn good for a fuck up like me." He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I'm gonna miss her… and I'm gonna miss home, but I gotta move on, ya know?" Ed nodded sagely. "I just need something to take my mind off all of this. Some work will do me good." Pete just nodded solemnly. Ed McQuinn waited for seven days. For seven days he trudged down to the Baltimare docks from his crummy hotel. And for those seven days he waited, walking around the filthy cobblestone shipyard, his hands in his pockets, kicking rocks here and there. Making idle chit-chat with some of the pony dockworkers on their breaks, lending a hand to others in their work. At the ends of those seven days he went back to his hotel at night and tried – and failed – to sleep. But on the eighth day, just as he finished lending a hand in moving a shipment of barrels, a ship's horn blew in the distance. He squinted at the horizon and saw a familiar iron freight ship on the horizon. It was his escape. His hope. Demigods and the mystical powers of real life magic couldn't help him, but this one old freighter and its crew and captain could. It would never make things right, it simply couldn't. But old Ed hoped that, in some small way, it might make everything just a little bit easier. He hoped that it might earn him his place in this world. So that, with any luck, he could finally say farewell to the world he left behind, and make peace with his loss. Ed stood at the very edge of the dock, as though he was ready to jump in and swim to his salvation. But, as luck would have it, salvation saw fit to fly to him, on muddy golden wings. The burly eye-patch wearing griffon made a hasty and sloppy landing next to the human. Though despite his haste, he merely looked up to the human with his one eye, the edges of his mouth turned just slightly upward in a sly smile. He held out a claw. Ed looked at the offered claw, then into Captain Scratchy's eye. Ed couldn't help but smile himself, though his eyes seemed to water. He extended his own hand and they shook warmly. This would be the beginning of Ed McQuinn's new life. Author's Note And so ends the saga. Just another reminder that this was a writing experiment for me. I'm sure it's against what most writers believe about narration. I tried to deliver as much story in as few words as possible, without really 'telling' as versus 'showing.' So far I think it's gone well. Let me know how you liked it. It was also never supposed to be long. Or have some complex action packed plot. No, it was only meant to be a little exposé on how some people would react to being dropped in pony world. And not in some in-depth and highly philosophical way, but in a much simpler one. I know I could have gone all different ways with this story, but this is the one I felt was right. Again, let me know how you liked it. Or didn't.
