Kawa's Attempts at Self Discovery and Squickby KawaChaptersI'm not as think as you drunk I amTaalgrenzen zijn magischRead a Sweetie BellePut your date-face onThree Basic NeedsMuffins and MeltdownsI'm not as think as you drunk I amNote to self: do not wish upon a falling star while pleasantly drunk. I’m Kawa. Well, that’s not my real name but frankly my real name... I don’t really like my real name very much. Most of what little friends I have know me by my handle. Now, I wouldn’t say my life is all that bad per se, but it certainly wasn’t up to snuff. Had some vague ideas on why but for some stupid-ass reason my mind just never wants to work with me when I try to figure out what exactly I want in life. What is your name? Kawa. What is the air speed velocity of an unladen European swallow? Eleven meters per second. What is your quest? Fuck me sideways if I know. So yeah. I’m just sitting there late at night in my... place of residence, reading TV Tropes and shit, having a beer... now, I don’t usually drink beer, but when I do... I realize I haven’t drawn the curtains all this time. Or maybe someone else opened them again when I wasn’t around? Who even knows, right? And just when I look out the window I spot this real nice falling star. Now, I know they’re not stars. But that’s just what the phenomenom is called, y’know? So I see a falling piece of space rock burning through the upper atmosphere, and I think two things. Actually more than two because fuck my derailed train of thought! But two things stood out. “That’s a first.” “Might as well be a dumbfuck and make a wish.” And so, as I draw the curtains, I find myself blacking out. That doesn’t happen all too often either. Last time I remember blacking out (is that even a thing?) was when I had my teeth fixed in the hospital. And that was just a general anesthetic. Gotta love those and my tendency to talk through it, only to have my words cut out and then seamlessly continue what could be hours later. But this was no anesthetic. If I wasn’t actively blacking my shit out, I’d joke about the brain tumor I don’t actually have. What could be hours later, I snapped back to consciousness and scrambled to finish a sentence I never started. I realized my stupidity on that part and forced my eyes to open. My first realization was that I was not inside, nor was it the middle of the night. It was what could’ve been early in the day, if my sense of time wasn’t as shot as so many other parts of my mental experience. Speaking of experience, I proceeded to turn myself around so I could get up easier. It was pretty obvious I wasn’t in a bed or anything, so I couldn’t do my usual thing and swing my legs off the side and let kinematics handle the rest. Therefore, plan B came in effect and that’s why I was turning to face down. It hadn’t really registered until then, but I was apparently lying on grass. It looked like pretty good grass to boot. Not that I’m the kind of guy who’d know one kind of grass from the other – in fact that’s among the last kind of topic I’d know about. But at least it wasn’t sand. Could’ve been itchy if it were and I do so hate being itchy. My second realization was that, now that I had turned around and was lying flat on my stomach, my testicles hurt. That wasn’t supposed to happen. But if there’s one way to relieve pressure on your nuts when you’re lying on ‘em, it’s to get your fat ass up, and that’s what I was planning to do in the first place. Something didn’t quite register when I pushed up from the ground. Something important, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. As I stumbled upright, it hit me. My balance was shot and my legs felt colder than usual, and that was, of course, because I was not human any more. How droll. Carefully, I dropped back onto the ground and stuck my arm out. No hand, as I’d half-expected and I still had my shirt and jacket, which I did not expect at all. That was really all I needed to know. I’d figure out the details later. I seemed to be a steel blue pony, still a man, and still blonde. It seemed that my tail, which I had turned to in order to find out that color, had taken on my white streak, which made me wonder if the one in my… mane, I guess, still had the original. More importantly, was I still balding? Nah, just kidding, that’s not the more important thing at all. The more important thing was a matter of mobility, cos I had no experience walking on four legs worth a damn. Still, no better way to figure it out than to practice! I rolled around on the grass to get my bearings straight – actually all that rolling got my bearings in a bit of a tangle, ow – and see where the nearest civilization’s at. No idea which way’s north, but there was a familiar-looking town in one particular direction. Could it be? Fuck yeah it could be! I tried to get up again and found some footing on all four legs. That was the easy part. Balancing was a cinch if I didn’t try to stand upright! But how do you walk on four legs? I ended up staggering my dumb flank (“get with the vernacular, bro!”) towards town, looking like it was anything but an unspecified but non-zero and probably larger than six amount of hours since I had that beer. By the time I’d reached the edge of town, I just looked kinda stupid, which was a great improvement in its own right. But then, I usually look a little stupid. ‘Derpy’, you might even say. It’s why I keep squinting, or cheating with my hat. Which I had completely forgotten about, so I halted and felt around the top of my head. How that glorious black motherfucker hadn’t fallen off when I was rolling in the grass I would never understand, but hey I still had my fedora. All was good. And then she came. My vision turned entirely pink as a certain you-know-damn-well who stood way too close to me and started babbling in my face. I couldn’t make out the words, she was going that fast. “Pinkeh”, I interjected. Or maybe rather tried to interject. She didn’t catch it, obviously. “Pinkeh, stahp.” Now, I’d like to apologize for the obvious meme. I’ve had way too much of those and in fact my best spoken English is built upon a foundation of quotes and Internet memes. Did I forget to mention that back on page one? I’m not a native English speaker; I’m Dutch. Those who know me from the Internet might think I’m pretty good at English but there’s a very important difference between written and spoken language that was about to bite my glorious pony ass. “And I’ve never ever ever ever seen you before”, Pinkie rambled. Almost automatically, my shit brain connected a few dots that really shouldn’t be, and I sang a subdued line from a game’s copy protection filler. “Never ever ever eat nectarines washed~” “What?” That shut her up. Thank you shit brain! And now that she wasn’t rambling I had an opportunity to process what she had said. “Wacht ‘ns even”, I mumbled in my native tongue. “Sta jij daar nou een beetje in ‘t Engels te hinneken?” Taalgrenzen zijn magisch“What’d you just say”, Pinkie said with an appropriately confused look on her face that nicely mirrored my own, but less scowly. “I said… are you… whinnying in English?” I struggled to reply. “Noperoonie!” “Coulda fooled me”, I quipped. “Sure sounded like English.” “But it’s not”, the pink danger insisted. “I speak Equestrian, just like everypony else!” Well, that made sense. “Could you… repeat that whole thing, but a little slower?” I asked hesistantly as I stroked my—oh wow I lost my beard. All I could feel was… fur, I guess. “Okidokie, Loki! I said that I’d never seen you around Ponyville before, so that must mean you’re new here…” At that point I recognized what Pinkie was all up about and tried to drown her out. Nope, still can’t do that. Dammit. “Yeah, yeah. I’m new”, I interrupted. “I… ah… don’t know how I got here actually.” “Are you drunk?” Pinkie asked. All thought processes ground to a halt right there and then. As I tried to get things started again and come up with a reply, I flashed this massive shit eater of a grin. You could dump a wheelbarrow of shit in there. But not literally, fuck no. Shit’s nasty, both figuratively and literally! But anyway, I could swear I saw Pinkie turn just a smidgen pale-like before she slowly turned around and proceeded to haul ass outta there. Was there something in my teeth? Probably. But I’d sooner blame the grin itself. I shrugged, or rather tried to shrug, and walked on. It’d probably be a good idea to either go find Town Hall and get some boring bullshit out the way, or maybe explore town first? Nah, there’ll be plenty time for that later. And let’s not even consider trying to meet five certain other ponies first. “Hoookay dan”, I whispered to myself. “Waar zou die tent zijn…” I was, of course, looking in exactly the wrong direction. Between the odd stares of random mares (lol) and my drunken-like swagger, it took quite a bit of time to get to town hall. A lady behind the counter took notice of my sudden presence. “Can I help you, sir?” “Ah, yeah… I’d like to ah… I’d like to… fuck wat was dat woord ook al weer?” “What was that, sir?” “Ah… I’m new here, ma’m. I’d like to…” “Register, sir?” “Whatevah. What do I do?” I shrugged as I stood a bit closer to the counter. “I’ll need your name, that of your sire, your dam, your place of birth, and a description of your cutie mark, sir”, the government official said as she slid a form towards me. My brain full of useless trivia felt pretty useful at that time. I hardly even noticed the lady said ‘sire’ and ‘dam’ before I made the connection: “The male parent of a horse, a stallion, is commonly known as the sire and the female parent, the mare, is called the dam.” Thank you Wikipedia! Thank you strangely selective memory! And fuck you impossible answers! I couldn’t very well write down my parents’ names, or my place of birth. How would these ponies even know what a Netherlands is, let alone the more specific location? I hadn’t taken a close look at my cutie mark either, mostly because my jacket was kinda in the way… and I wasn’t entirely sure how to write in the first fucking place! Grabbing the provided pencil with my lips was surprisingly easy, though… Now then. Name… ‘Kawa’. Easy. Or maybe not – it was a complete and utter mess. “Fuck me flying”, I said with a slight frustration. Swearing in English came naturally to me, somehow. “What was that, sir?” “I ah… messed up. Can I have some... blank paper to practice on?” I said with what would probably be a noticeable blush and another stupid grin. “You can’t write, sir?” “You tell me”, I joked as I passed the form back. The lady was silent for all of three seconds as she stared at the form. “You can’t write, sir”, she confirmed with the most deadpan face I’d seen all week. “Yeah it’s… ah… pretty ‘mbar’sing… heheh.” Up yours, lady, I just need a little practice. Roughly an hour and one more blank sheet later, I had the point size down to a rough 12 or so. “Okay, I think I got it. Can I have ah… Can I have another form, ma’m?” The lady must’ve noticed my occasional nasal snorting between words. Turning into a pony didn’t seem to do anything about my little breathing problem – ever since I was born, as far as I know, I’ve had trouble breathing through my nose, so I’ve breathed through my mouth for almost thirty years. *snort* Okay, take two. Name: ‘Kawa’. Sire: heh… Let’s go with a little white lie. Ah… ‘Haybale’. At least the first letter’s a match. Dam: hmm… let’s do something different there. Can’t think of anything with her initials that wouldn’t cause problems even faster soooooooo… ‘Nectarine’. Thanks again shit brain. Cutie mark… I paused and turned, pulling my jacket away. Now, I can do a whole lotta things, but most of them are related to computers. I can write, I can code, I can draw a bit, and I hack. Somehow, I wasn’t all that surprised to see a slightly simplified Susan Kare-style ‘my computer’ icon on my ass. But how do you describe a PC in a world where the closest thing is a goddamned ENIAC? Read a Sweetie BelleCutie mark: ‘Television Typewriter’. Brilliant. I didn’t even care if ponies had proper TVs or not. It was brill as fuck and there’d be further discussion about it. I turned the form in to the lady behind the counter, who took a few good looks at it. I flashed my best smile at her. “Very well, sir”, she said after a tense couple minutes. Or maybe seconds, fucked if I know. Can’t tell, don’t care to. “Welcome to Ponyville.” I staggered back out of Town Hall feeling very much as if my spirits were lifted. Trying to keep the volume down a bit as my odd mode of locomotion caught enough attention already, I found myself humming that one mashup of the Doctor Who and My Little Pony theme songs. Having random songs stuck in my head really helped pass the time. I encountered Pinkie Pie once more on my random way to Twilight’s library. Y’see, my second objective, I had decided, should be to accumulate as much factual information as possible. Especially in language – if they seriously used ‘sire’ and ‘dam’ instead of ‘father’ and ‘mother’, who knows what sort of stupid mistakes I could avoid with half a dictionary up in there? “Hello, mysterious hat pony”, Pinkie greeted. “Still drunk?” Somehow, and I still don’t know how exactly, I managed to tip my hat at the pony. “Hi again, miss. I wasn’t plunk in the first drace.” Smooth. Ordinary phrases come out as a bumblefuck of realistic diction, but somehow the comedy gods let me joke at regular speed? Ah, who even gives a shit. With enough forced practice I should get better at spoken English… Equestrian? I probably must’ve passed the library at least once before I found it and knocked on the door. “It’s open”, a young male-ish voice called out. That was probably Spike, though it was harder to tell through the door than I thought. Anyway, I gave the door a good push and walked right into the side of the doorway. Spike was there almost before I finished saying “ow fuck”. “Are you okay, mister? That looked like it hurt”, he asked. “I’ll be fine… thank you. Do you… have any dictionaries?” “Sure, mister… Mister…?” “Kawa”, I introduced myself with another impossible hat tip. “D’ya mind if I hang out here with one? I don’t have any… I don’t have a place to go.” “You don’t?” the little dragon asked in confirmation. “Nope, ‘n no cash ayther”, I admitted with another sick snort. “Gonna have to… do somethin’ ‘bout that.” Just a moment later, I was sitting in the corner with an Equestrian dictionary. I skipped ahead to the S just to confirm that ‘sire’ thing. I noticed a few extra letters on the way, but I’d look into those after. sire (say-er) n.: male parent. contrast dam. Yeah okay. That’s one obvious thing confirmed. Now, I’ve never been very good at reading pronunciation guides, but that seemed a pretty fun way to say ‘sire’. I stopped for a moment to recall how the lady from Town Hall had pronounced it. foot (fuht) n.: lower extremity of bipedal beings such as a diamond dog or dragon. see also hand, claw. cu·tie mark (cyú-ti marhk) n.: symbol representing special talent. also talent brand, rarely butt symbol. Heh. I knew about butt symbols, but ‘talent brand’ was new to me. Gotta be sure now, so I flipped over to the letter H for Hentai and several other things. As I’d almost had expected. No entry for ‘human’. Which was actually good, in a way; if I were to meet a certain pony she wouldn’t be likely to ask stupid-ass questions. That whole thing was overdone anyway. No sense beating a prone pony. Now what was that one new letter? I flipped over to the letter just between A and B. It seemed like your average AE ligature, and apparently counted as its own letter. And what do I see right in the middle? That’s right. æl·corn (ayhl-corn) n.: 1 - horn of a unicorn or pegacorn. 2 - substance of horn. 3 - (rarely) syn. pegacorn. sometimes written ‘ali·corn’. Cælesha (sayh-lesh'ya) p.n.: immortal goddess of the sun and ruling princess. No T? I could deal with that. And it seemed like you weren’t allowed to break her name at the end of a line, considering the lack of middle dots. After roughly two hours of plodding through that dictionary, I had the basic differences down and maybe the others would form some nice sediment to randomly call upon. When I stood up and carefully cracked my aching limbs, a familiar lavender unicorn walked up to me and took the dictionary in her telekinetic grasp. After she put it back where Spike had taken it from without looking, she turned to me. “Hi there. I’m Twilight Sparkle”, she started to introduce herself. She must’ve picked up on my being new here. Was it Pinkie or the lady from Town Hall that tipped her off? Did it even matter? I was about to make an ass of myself anyway. Hat tip, somehow. “Kawa, nice to, eh... Nice to meet you, heh...” Speaking normally was somehow even more difficult this time. Possibly because this was an unattached, nerdy as all get-the-fuck-out young woman in rooouuughly my age bracket, and pretty good-looking for an equine. The fact that she sounded like Tara Strong with a smexy accent didn’t help. “You must be ah…” I fumbled. I couldn’t show too much foreknowledge from watching the show, after all. “You must be the ah… personal student of Princess Celestia, right?” Fuck you, accent. Fuck you right in your non-existent ass. You do not pronounce the Celesha-thrice-damned T you just fucking learned not to do that! “Caelesha, you mean. And yes, yes I am”, Twilight corrected and confirmed with a noticeable pride. “But if I’m the Princess’ Faithful Student, what are you?” “Umm… A homeless, jobless piece of crap with a fancy hat?” I blurted out. “Well”, the librarian pondered as she gave me a quick look-over, stopping at my shirt. “You certainly don’t seem to be here to make friends. Take it from me, mister Kawa; you’ll find out how wrong that shirt is soon enough.” How delightfully foreboding. “I’m shuuure”, I mocked as I realized I was indeed wearing my ‘not here to make friends’ shirt. “Now, where and how can I earn some quick bits?” Put your date-face onTwilight Sparkle was visiting her friend Rarity in the boutique. “So I told him to wander around Ponyville a bit, ‘cause you know there’s always somepony who could use a helping hoof, right?” she finished. “Quite so, darling”, Rarity agreed. “Why, I could imagine, if this mysterious stallion is as strapping as you make him out to be, he could make quite some bits in our dear Applejack’s orchards, wouldn’t you agree?” Twilight sat and pondered for a short while, watching as Rarity floated a pot of hot water and some tea bags in from the kitchen. “Actually Rarity, I don’t think ‘strapping’ is the right word here. I haven’t had that good an opportunity to look, but even though this guy’s easily as large as Big Macintosh or Shining Armor, he doesn’t seem nearly as muscular”, Twilight explained. “Still, from what I know about apple bucking, he could do pretty well, maybe.” Rarity listened closely as she filled two cups with water and picked a bag. The white unicorn chose Ceylon. “What I find most intriguing about our mystery pony is his accent.” “Whatever do you mean, darling?” “Well, it just sounds… I don’t know… ‘off’?” Rarity gave her a look that simultaneously said “carry on” and “the great Twilight Sparkle doesn’t know, wow”. “The first thing he did when he came to the library was read a dictionary, front to back, but then when I introduced myself he pronounced Caelesha’s name as ‘Celestia’. ‘Tee-a’, Rarity! Nopony – no-body ever puts a T there! I’ve read about all sorts of different accents, dialects, and languages, but this is literally the first time I heard somepony call her that.” Rarity was duly impressed and gave Twilight an unbelieving gaze as she took a sip of her tea. “Honestly, dear?” “Yes! And there’s all sorts of words he pronounces funny! Such as… words with an A in them”, Twilight continued. “Do drink your hot water, darling. It’s getting cold.” “Y’know, Rarity?” “What?” “He actually sounds pretty… exotic”, Twilight said almost wistfully. “You’re kidding me, right?” Rarity replied as she carefully set down her cup. “Exotic accent, obvious interest in studies…” Twilight mused as she hovered a few different tea bags around in front of her. “I’m going to have to stop you there, Twilight darling”, Rarity half-jokingly interjected as Twilight picked a Darjeeling from the floating cluster and put it in her cup. Before Twilight could continue her merry descend onto the path to nightmares, there was a knock on the boutique’s door and a perspective shift in the narrative. “Just a moment please~” I waited in front of the door for someone – somepony to open. A few moments later, I heard a latch click and the top half of the door swung away, revealing exactly who I expected. “I’m so sorry sir, but the boutique is closed at this time. I’m in the middle of a lunch break with a dear friend”, Rarity explained. Somehow, her Midwestern accent in the show translated to a somehow even thicker Equestrian accent. Canterlot, maybe? I just tipped my hat (somehow) once more. Ingrained hat-related behaviors were my best idea yet. And for a change, I merely smiled, keeping my teeth hidden. “Yes ah… I expected as much. Mister Spike told me that… that would be the case”, I explained to the somehow much more attractive in person unicorn. Not that Rarity wasn’t attractive in the show, hell naw. This was just… even better. Somehow. “Wait… you must be mister Kawa, are you not?” Rarity realized. Twilight must’ve been talking about me. “That’s right”, I said near automatically, with the requisite memetic voice imitation. Something told me using a sensual voice like that would come back to haunt me big time. “Please, come in. I take it you’re here for Twilight?” Rarity asked as she unlocked the lower half of the door and opened it. “Yeeeaaah. Not that I wouldn’t… heh… Not that I wouldn’t eventually come ‘round to see you.” I managed to produce with my regular snarky asshole voice. I could almost hear Rarity’s inner monologue. ‘Oh my, he does sound erotic. I mean, exotic.’ Her face was readable enough to make a rough inference, even to someone like me. Somepony. Whatever. The biggest clue was in the quick shift of her eyes, and the way she almost bit her lower lip. Or maybe that was just me. I mean, let’s be serious here. Between Big Mac, Shiny, and Fancy Pants, who’d want a guy like me? I could very well imagine even fucking Caramel would be more eligible. His girlfriend sure thinks so. NYUCK NYUCK. “Right this way. My dear Twilight and I were just having some tea”, Rarity said as she ushered me into the boutique. “Would you care for a cup?” I stopped to ponder a potential problem. “I’m… I’m not quite sure if I could ah… drink it without making a mess”, I confessed, uncertain if and how I could hold a cup. “Speshly in such a pretty place.” “What was that, my dear?” I snorted in thought. “Well… Sometimes I, umm, have this idea that a p-- pony’s home… reflects its inhabitants, yanno?” Rarity looked at me as if she expected me to continue doing what (to me) felt like digging my own grave. “So the ah… exterior? It’s a bit gowdy.” She frowned. Nopony would dare call the Boutique gaudy and get away with it, after all! “But now that I can see it, the inside is actually really beautiful.” That helped. Rarity was back to smiling now. That was good. Now, to finish her off. “And it’s really much a’ the same with you. Now, this… this is just my opinion but I think make-up ‘n such is highly overrated. You… jump through all these hoops erry day to make yourself look pretty, but you don’t--” I interrupted myself to (carefully!) boop Rarity on the nose for emphasis. “You don’t need to, cos you look great without allo’dat!” For a few tense moments, Rarity just stood there with a distant look in her eyes and a slightly crumpled nose. “… soooo… got any Earl Grey?” Three Basic NeedsIt was a good week or so later that Twilight Sparkle visited me in the cheap motel I had taken residence in. It wasn’t easy to get there – I had to get my hooves on some money first so I could rent a room in the first place, but dammit if I didn’t! At the time Twilight arrived, I was just sketching all sorts of things on a shitload of paper I’d nabbed from various locations. “Come in”, I said when Twilight knocked on the door. “Hello, Kawa. I thought I’d see how my favorite not-so-homeless bum was holding up. What’re you doing?” “Designing a computer”, I replied flatly, focusing on the complete bullshit in front of me. “But b‘fo that I’ve been practicing writin’n’drawin’ with my mouth.” Twilight levitated a random page in front of her. It was, I noticed, a drawing of her and Rarity having tea. “This is pretty good for somepony who still had to learn it just one week ago”, she complimented. “I could draw before that. Just not wi… I should shut up now.” Twilight was silent for a few seconds at my refusal to finish that sentence and put the drawing back. “So… what kind of computer are you working on?” “Doesn’t really matter”, I replied as I worked on adapting seven-bit ASCII to Equestrian, optimizing some useless historical garbage as I went. “I just need something to… occupy ma mind, y’no?” Twilight nodded in supposed understanding. “There’s three things I really need”, I announced as I stood up. “There are”, Twilight corrected. “Up yours. One: a good drink”, I started to list, pointing at a small variety of different sodas. “Two: a computer, or somethin’ else to keep me busy. So I thought I’d combine the two. Three: a good fuckin’, and four a bath.” “You said there were four things”, Twilight remarked. “Yeah but then I stood up and all this musk got… released", I explained. “Can’t believe you got me on that and not the third thing.” “Well yeah”, Twilight admitted as she sorta scuffed her hooves against the floorboards. “I can understand that need, really. Who doesn’t need some intimacy now and then?” I snickered a bit at her choice of words. “What?” she said. “Now and then, you say”, I quoted as I slowly turned around to face her, an unintended predatory grin hidden below the rim of my hat, my active eye staring right at Twilight. The words came out fluent and dark, my Dutch accent all but buried under a practiced movie-style American English. “Now and then. Do you have any idea what it’s like, Miss Sparkle, to have both an unhealthily large libido, strrrict personal principles on relationships, and a crippling lack of self-esteem and thus nopony to have such a relationship with?” She took a careful step back. “Not from personal experience, I don’t”, she replied softly. As if a switch had been thrown, the entire scary persona dropped, leaving just the regular me in its place. Though, to be honest, so many appearances are an act, I often feel like I’m not sure what the real me is like. But this is close enough. I slumped to the floor. “Drives a guy completely whacko”, I whispered as I turned back around, flopped onto this cheap-ass bed and assumed an approximation of the fetal position, to try and softly cry into the pillow. Again, I couldn’t possibly tell you how much of that was an act. That must be kinda like how Peter Sellers must’ve felt. Behind me, Twilight stuck around to check out the designs I made. I had the aforementioned “ESCII” code sheet, some machine code operand lists (not too many cos I like taking RISCs), a schematic view showing how the program code and data would share the same memory space… all it was missing was a physical design, cos I had not the second clue how these ponies could possibly implement such things. The first clue I did have was that maybe gems and magic charges were the key, which I had duly noted. Hidden at the bottom of the clusterfuck-that-would-be-a-stack was a sheet with what the design could be called. I basically spent an hour or so thinking up horse puns on “von Neumann” and “Princeton”. There was, of course, a big ol’ sloppy circle around “von Newmare”. I’d given it bonus points for being horrible. “This is really very interesting, you know”, Twilight remarked. “Having the instructions and values share the same space… wouldn’t that let instructions write more instructions?” “Yeah, ‘n change existing ones too, if you need to. But… as much as I’d love to stick around ‘n talk tech, I think I should… I dunno, go out and, eh… explore town a bit?” “Maybe you should. You’ve been cooped up in here for quite a while now, so maybe you should go out and make some friends.” I looked up and gave the unicorn a derpy Kubrick stare from under my hat. “That’s rich, comin’ from you.” Twilight snorted. “Just… get out of here, okay?” “I’ll get my coat.” A few minutes later, I found myself wandering through Ponyville. As I tried to locate some waypoints and important locations, I spotted one specific pony sitting at a café with a drink. The one pony I had consistently proclaimed best pony. Cheeri-motherfucking-lee. I took a moment or two to collect myself. I could do this! It was Cheerilee, and even if she didn’t have the radical 80’s look anymore, she was still best pone and as Celestia was my witness I would— --completely lose my kung-fu grip on my train of thought and watch helplessly as it once again derailed and went on a disastrous rampage, nearly picking off a washed-out secret agent and finally coming to a full but crumpled stop at Total Loser Pussy Central Station. I could almost feel the color drain from my face as I ducked into an alleyway and dropped down with my back against the wall. Muffins and MeltdownsAs I sat there, slumped against a wall and openly weeping – I should elaborate on that a little and mention that I usually remain stoic as a windrammer until I’m alone and then weep – I barely paid any notice at all to any passing ponies that happened to spot me. I figure such a sort of emotional display is relatively acceptable here, socially speaking. So fuck it, bring the waterworks. Let them see. What I most certainly did not expect was for one of them to approach me. Between the sobs and popped eardrums I couldn’t quite make out who it was, but an oddly male-sounding, sing-song voice asked me that one thing that revealed their identity right there at the final question mark. “You okay, mister? Anything I can do to help?” It couldn’t be. But yeah, it was her. Derpy, the one other pony in this Celestia-all-but-forsaken hole in the ground that was probably more fucked up in the sensory department than I. Not to mention fashion. “Mister?” she repeated, and prodded me on the forehead with her hoof. That was easy, as my hat had finally fallen off when I hit the wall with the back of my head. “Yeah”, I mumbled as I pulled myself back off of the wall. “Fo’ now… one thing.” I embraced Derpy in a careful but still sort of jerky-like hug and cried some more on her shoulder. It felt nice, really, another pony’s body warmth and all that. Derpy seemed surprised at it all if the short gasp was any indication to go by, but soon hugged me back. “Why are you crying, mister?” she asked as I wondered for just a moment if ‘Derpy’ really was her name. “Did you get any bad news?” “No… not news. I’m just…” I stopped trying to formulate the rest of my sentence right there. Derpy didn’t need to know I was crying for being too much of a cowardly little shit to get out there and sweep Cheerilee off her hooves… and I really shouldn’t have thought that. Two-thirds through the thought, the dams burst once more. I just held Derpy tight and made a mess of the fur on her back. “You shouldn't be hiding when you're sad, you know”, Derpy softly said in my ear. “You never know what might happen when you're alone and things look glum.” “I guess. Could run into a pony like you”, I whispered back. It was out and done before I realized what I was saying, and I quickly released my hold on Derpy. I’m pretty sure I must’ve been red in the face right then. “I mean – I din’t – you just…” “You’re silly, mister.” Very acute observation ma’am, please continue. It took me a good two seconds or something (I dunno, could’ve been ten, you know how it goes by now) to realize I was staring. My active eye at the time – the left one – was focusing squarely on Derpy’s one eye that was facing in the approximately correct direction, the other looking slightly off to the side. I blinked, switched to the right, and looked right into Derpy’s clear white sclera, my own undoubtedly tinged red from crying like that. To be entirely honest, a guy could get lost in those eyes. And since I’d spent several seconds staring at them, I reckon I did just that. “Scuse me for staring”, I half-mumbled in apology. Derpy just giggled. “Ponies do that sometimes. I got used to it. But maybe you should head home, pick up something sweet on the way. That might cheer you up.” Thank you for giving me the opening, dear sweet Derpy. “I feel like muffins”, I said, pretending I had just gotten the idea and watching for a reaction. Derpy’s ears perked up and for a moment her eyes aligned in attention. “Y’wanna come with?” “Sure, mister. I’d love to go out and buy muffins with you!” “Call me Kawa, please”, I said with rapidly rebuilding confidence as I looked around for the nearest waypoint to guide me towards Sugarcube Corner. “Ah, there it is.” Now, I knew a whole bunch of things about all the main characters, like Twilight and her friends, but all my knowledge about background ponies like Derpy was entirely based on fanon. The suggestion to go get muffins was a total shot in the dark in that regard, and it seemed a hit – I just couldn’t tell how on-center it was. “Kawa… that’s a strange name for a pony, isn’t it?” Derpy asked as we left the alley. “Maybe. Maybe… what’s your name then? Bubbles?” I replied half-jokingly, with a quick glimpse at her butt for good measure and acting. “No it isn’t. I’m Derpy!” “I know you are, but what’s your name?” “You’re such a joker, mister Kawa. You should meet Pinkie Pie.” “Nah, been there already”, I shrugged, then put on my best Christopher Lee voice. “What a strange little pony.” About two minutes and a whole lotta pink later, we had a paper bag full of muffins. Enough of them to share between us, no less, because that shit apparently came pretty cheap for some fortuitous reason, which might have had something to do with my current companion. “If you wanna stick around some more, Derpy, I really suggest we don’t go to my place”, I said as we left the store. “Place is a total mess right now.” “How big of a mess do you mean, mister Kawa?” Oh cut it out with the ‘mister’ bullshit already. “Lessay… ah… papers everywhere”, I admitted. “Also, food wrappers and empty soda bottles. Lots of ‘em.” “You sound like a sloppy pony”, Derpy said. It didn’t sound like much of an admonishment, really. “I’ve had a rough time”, I said to try and excuse myself. It wasn’t even a lie – at least not with regards to the wrappers and bottles. For a moment, I let my sensibilities slip, and my dick speak for me. “But there’s… other ways I can be a sloppy pony”, I said unthinkingly. In my mind, I bucked my own face in and somewhat expected Derpy to do so for real, even as I flashed a smile. “I guess we should go to my house then. I cleaned up this morning”, Derpy considered out loud. She mustn’t have noticed my sleaze was showing. “If my little muffin hasn’t been playing too much it should still be…” “Presentable?” I offered, taking note of an increasing possibility of Dinky. “Yes, ‘presentable’. Thank you mi–Kawa.” “Lead the way, m’lady.” We got to Derpy’s house in what seemed like no time at all, possibly because I spent most of our walk there thinking about how not to fuck up. I was just considering a topic to talk about that did not have anything to do with my feelings or my growing needs, when Derpy led me into the living room. Sure enough, there were some child’s – I mean, foal’s drawings pinned to the wall, and at least two more on the fridge. As Derpy tried to be an excellent host and checked her stock of suitable drinks, I checked out one of the drawings. It depicted a little purple unicorn sitting on the back of a gray pegasus twice her size, helpfully labeled “mom” and “mɘ”, with “dinki agɘ 3” in the corner. Yeah, with the reversed Ǝ’s and everything. Theory confirmed. Thank you, dear sweet Dinky. “Can I get you anything to drink, mi–Kawa? Hot cocoa, maybe?” Derpy offered with her head in a kitchen cabinet. “No thanks, I prefer my chocolate cold”, I replied in all honesty. “Yanno what? Forget about drinks, I’ll pass.” Truth be told, the longer I spent with this mare, the more I thought this could be it. Drinks were the last thing on my mind. “So eh… this ‘Dinky’… your daughter?” I asked knowingly. “Yep. She’s my little muffin”, Derpy confirmed. Her voice was almost sickening when she said that, so I reckoned she must really love the foal. Which was, all things considered, a very good thing. Still, I braced for impact and asked the one thing I feared to ask. “If ya don’t mind me asking… who’s the, eh… sire?” Was that right? “Not sure”, Derpy admitted as she entered the living room, a plate with our newly-bought muffins and a single cup of hot cocoa, probably for herself, balancing on her back and supported on the sides by her wings. I raised a single eyebrow and watched as Derpy sat down next to me. “I never caught his name, but he was a really sweet guy. He said he’d be back… but when he did, it was like he didn’t recognize me anymore.” I had my fears on the identity of “the guy”, but I decided not to pursue it. Instead, I put an arm – yeah, arm – on the back of the couch, careful not to touch Derpy. Not yet. “After a day or two, I decided not to pursue it. Sometimes, ponies just look alike, I thought, and…” “It’s okay, D. From where I’m standing, you’ve… held up great, since then”, I said, trying to comfort Derpy and maybe kinda fix my mistake of bringing “the guy” up. “You really think so, mister? I mean, Kawa?” “Hey”, I started as I put that arm around Derpy. “I just met you, right? I may be crazy, but you’re a very beautiful lady.” “Beautiful? But… my eyes are all…” “Derpy?” “I guess. And I’m such a klutz sometimes.” “Everypony’s a klotz, sometimes. At least you have an excuse. Me too, kinda. No depth perception worth a damn. Really gets in m’way, sometimes.” It was almost like Derpy hadn’t noticed it before, but it was her turn to stare at my eyes. I’m sure they weren’t nearly as pretty as hers, but what the hay, y’know? One of her eyes drifted south, and she gasped. “Wha?” I asked as I snapped out of my slowly building reverie. “You have a… Am I that beautiful?” Derpy asked between giggles. “Fuck are you talkin’bout?” I muttered as I tore myself away from Derpy’s face and glanced oh dear princess Celestia where the fuck did that come from? “…I guess so”, I replied as I shifted my legs in a feeble attempt to regain some dignity (AS IF!) and cursed the overall lack of pants. Which was not to be confused for the pant lack of overalls. Yeah. I’ll get my coat. “Curse you, biology”, I said as I pulled down my hat, as if to hide the shame on my face. “What’s wrong, mister Kawa?” Derpy asked. I made some sort of non-committal growly noise to buy some thinking time. “Eh… personal principles, low self-esteem…” I stood up on my hind legs for added drama, ignoring the horthcock such an act would release. Fuck the cock – I had a giant cow to milk and no fucking fingers! Still, up they went to gesticulate. I was gonna go balls out on this, literally and figuratively, and if Derpy still accepted me in her house, that’d be a real triumph. “Fear of history repeating itself one more fucking time. Mind sayin’ I shouldn’t take risks, that I shouldn’t… I dunno, ‘take advantage’ of a single working mother, while my body’s quite fucking clearly being a hormonal douchenozzle and sayin’ I should do you right here on the couch until you do see straight!” I paused for a breath, and to regain my balance. I must’ve made such an ass of myself. Still, the switch was flipped back, and the only remaining signs of my outburst were my breathing and Derpy’s silence. It remained silent in the house for a good half a minute, when Derpy finally spoke up. “Is that why you were crying earlier?” she asked. I sit back on the couch, a little further away from Derpy than before, and slump. I nodded. “Did it make you feel better to say all of that?” “…Yeah.” Oh well. At least my boner subsided, and I haven’t been expelled yet.
I'm not as think as you drunk I amNote to self: do not wish upon a falling star while pleasantly drunk. I’m Kawa. Well, that’s not my real name but frankly my real name... I don’t really like my real name very much. Most of what little friends I have know me by my handle. Now, I wouldn’t say my life is all that bad per se, but it certainly wasn’t up to snuff. Had some vague ideas on why but for some stupid-ass reason my mind just never wants to work with me when I try to figure out what exactly I want in life. What is your name? Kawa. What is the air speed velocity of an unladen European swallow? Eleven meters per second. What is your quest? Fuck me sideways if I know. So yeah. I’m just sitting there late at night in my... place of residence, reading TV Tropes and shit, having a beer... now, I don’t usually drink beer, but when I do... I realize I haven’t drawn the curtains all this time. Or maybe someone else opened them again when I wasn’t around? Who even knows, right? And just when I look out the window I spot this real nice falling star. Now, I know they’re not stars. But that’s just what the phenomenom is called, y’know? So I see a falling piece of space rock burning through the upper atmosphere, and I think two things. Actually more than two because fuck my derailed train of thought! But two things stood out. “That’s a first.” “Might as well be a dumbfuck and make a wish.” And so, as I draw the curtains, I find myself blacking out. That doesn’t happen all too often either. Last time I remember blacking out (is that even a thing?) was when I had my teeth fixed in the hospital. And that was just a general anesthetic. Gotta love those and my tendency to talk through it, only to have my words cut out and then seamlessly continue what could be hours later. But this was no anesthetic. If I wasn’t actively blacking my shit out, I’d joke about the brain tumor I don’t actually have. What could be hours later, I snapped back to consciousness and scrambled to finish a sentence I never started. I realized my stupidity on that part and forced my eyes to open. My first realization was that I was not inside, nor was it the middle of the night. It was what could’ve been early in the day, if my sense of time wasn’t as shot as so many other parts of my mental experience. Speaking of experience, I proceeded to turn myself around so I could get up easier. It was pretty obvious I wasn’t in a bed or anything, so I couldn’t do my usual thing and swing my legs off the side and let kinematics handle the rest. Therefore, plan B came in effect and that’s why I was turning to face down. It hadn’t really registered until then, but I was apparently lying on grass. It looked like pretty good grass to boot. Not that I’m the kind of guy who’d know one kind of grass from the other – in fact that’s among the last kind of topic I’d know about. But at least it wasn’t sand. Could’ve been itchy if it were and I do so hate being itchy. My second realization was that, now that I had turned around and was lying flat on my stomach, my testicles hurt. That wasn’t supposed to happen. But if there’s one way to relieve pressure on your nuts when you’re lying on ‘em, it’s to get your fat ass up, and that’s what I was planning to do in the first place. Something didn’t quite register when I pushed up from the ground. Something important, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. As I stumbled upright, it hit me. My balance was shot and my legs felt colder than usual, and that was, of course, because I was not human any more. How droll. Carefully, I dropped back onto the ground and stuck my arm out. No hand, as I’d half-expected and I still had my shirt and jacket, which I did not expect at all. That was really all I needed to know. I’d figure out the details later. I seemed to be a steel blue pony, still a man, and still blonde. It seemed that my tail, which I had turned to in order to find out that color, had taken on my white streak, which made me wonder if the one in my… mane, I guess, still had the original. More importantly, was I still balding? Nah, just kidding, that’s not the more important thing at all. The more important thing was a matter of mobility, cos I had no experience walking on four legs worth a damn. Still, no better way to figure it out than to practice! I rolled around on the grass to get my bearings straight – actually all that rolling got my bearings in a bit of a tangle, ow – and see where the nearest civilization’s at. No idea which way’s north, but there was a familiar-looking town in one particular direction. Could it be? Fuck yeah it could be! I tried to get up again and found some footing on all four legs. That was the easy part. Balancing was a cinch if I didn’t try to stand upright! But how do you walk on four legs? I ended up staggering my dumb flank (“get with the vernacular, bro!”) towards town, looking like it was anything but an unspecified but non-zero and probably larger than six amount of hours since I had that beer. By the time I’d reached the edge of town, I just looked kinda stupid, which was a great improvement in its own right. But then, I usually look a little stupid. ‘Derpy’, you might even say. It’s why I keep squinting, or cheating with my hat. Which I had completely forgotten about, so I halted and felt around the top of my head. How that glorious black motherfucker hadn’t fallen off when I was rolling in the grass I would never understand, but hey I still had my fedora. All was good. And then she came. My vision turned entirely pink as a certain you-know-damn-well who stood way too close to me and started babbling in my face. I couldn’t make out the words, she was going that fast. “Pinkeh”, I interjected. Or maybe rather tried to interject. She didn’t catch it, obviously. “Pinkeh, stahp.” Now, I’d like to apologize for the obvious meme. I’ve had way too much of those and in fact my best spoken English is built upon a foundation of quotes and Internet memes. Did I forget to mention that back on page one? I’m not a native English speaker; I’m Dutch. Those who know me from the Internet might think I’m pretty good at English but there’s a very important difference between written and spoken language that was about to bite my glorious pony ass. “And I’ve never ever ever ever seen you before”, Pinkie rambled. Almost automatically, my shit brain connected a few dots that really shouldn’t be, and I sang a subdued line from a game’s copy protection filler. “Never ever ever eat nectarines washed~” “What?” That shut her up. Thank you shit brain! And now that she wasn’t rambling I had an opportunity to process what she had said. “Wacht ‘ns even”, I mumbled in my native tongue. “Sta jij daar nou een beetje in ‘t Engels te hinneken?”
Taalgrenzen zijn magisch“What’d you just say”, Pinkie said with an appropriately confused look on her face that nicely mirrored my own, but less scowly. “I said… are you… whinnying in English?” I struggled to reply. “Noperoonie!” “Coulda fooled me”, I quipped. “Sure sounded like English.” “But it’s not”, the pink danger insisted. “I speak Equestrian, just like everypony else!” Well, that made sense. “Could you… repeat that whole thing, but a little slower?” I asked hesistantly as I stroked my—oh wow I lost my beard. All I could feel was… fur, I guess. “Okidokie, Loki! I said that I’d never seen you around Ponyville before, so that must mean you’re new here…” At that point I recognized what Pinkie was all up about and tried to drown her out. Nope, still can’t do that. Dammit. “Yeah, yeah. I’m new”, I interrupted. “I… ah… don’t know how I got here actually.” “Are you drunk?” Pinkie asked. All thought processes ground to a halt right there and then. As I tried to get things started again and come up with a reply, I flashed this massive shit eater of a grin. You could dump a wheelbarrow of shit in there. But not literally, fuck no. Shit’s nasty, both figuratively and literally! But anyway, I could swear I saw Pinkie turn just a smidgen pale-like before she slowly turned around and proceeded to haul ass outta there. Was there something in my teeth? Probably. But I’d sooner blame the grin itself. I shrugged, or rather tried to shrug, and walked on. It’d probably be a good idea to either go find Town Hall and get some boring bullshit out the way, or maybe explore town first? Nah, there’ll be plenty time for that later. And let’s not even consider trying to meet five certain other ponies first. “Hoookay dan”, I whispered to myself. “Waar zou die tent zijn…” I was, of course, looking in exactly the wrong direction. Between the odd stares of random mares (lol) and my drunken-like swagger, it took quite a bit of time to get to town hall. A lady behind the counter took notice of my sudden presence. “Can I help you, sir?” “Ah, yeah… I’d like to ah… I’d like to… fuck wat was dat woord ook al weer?” “What was that, sir?” “Ah… I’m new here, ma’m. I’d like to…” “Register, sir?” “Whatevah. What do I do?” I shrugged as I stood a bit closer to the counter. “I’ll need your name, that of your sire, your dam, your place of birth, and a description of your cutie mark, sir”, the government official said as she slid a form towards me. My brain full of useless trivia felt pretty useful at that time. I hardly even noticed the lady said ‘sire’ and ‘dam’ before I made the connection: “The male parent of a horse, a stallion, is commonly known as the sire and the female parent, the mare, is called the dam.” Thank you Wikipedia! Thank you strangely selective memory! And fuck you impossible answers! I couldn’t very well write down my parents’ names, or my place of birth. How would these ponies even know what a Netherlands is, let alone the more specific location? I hadn’t taken a close look at my cutie mark either, mostly because my jacket was kinda in the way… and I wasn’t entirely sure how to write in the first fucking place! Grabbing the provided pencil with my lips was surprisingly easy, though… Now then. Name… ‘Kawa’. Easy. Or maybe not – it was a complete and utter mess. “Fuck me flying”, I said with a slight frustration. Swearing in English came naturally to me, somehow. “What was that, sir?” “I ah… messed up. Can I have some... blank paper to practice on?” I said with what would probably be a noticeable blush and another stupid grin. “You can’t write, sir?” “You tell me”, I joked as I passed the form back. The lady was silent for all of three seconds as she stared at the form. “You can’t write, sir”, she confirmed with the most deadpan face I’d seen all week. “Yeah it’s… ah… pretty ‘mbar’sing… heheh.” Up yours, lady, I just need a little practice. Roughly an hour and one more blank sheet later, I had the point size down to a rough 12 or so. “Okay, I think I got it. Can I have ah… Can I have another form, ma’m?” The lady must’ve noticed my occasional nasal snorting between words. Turning into a pony didn’t seem to do anything about my little breathing problem – ever since I was born, as far as I know, I’ve had trouble breathing through my nose, so I’ve breathed through my mouth for almost thirty years. *snort* Okay, take two. Name: ‘Kawa’. Sire: heh… Let’s go with a little white lie. Ah… ‘Haybale’. At least the first letter’s a match. Dam: hmm… let’s do something different there. Can’t think of anything with her initials that wouldn’t cause problems even faster soooooooo… ‘Nectarine’. Thanks again shit brain. Cutie mark… I paused and turned, pulling my jacket away. Now, I can do a whole lotta things, but most of them are related to computers. I can write, I can code, I can draw a bit, and I hack. Somehow, I wasn’t all that surprised to see a slightly simplified Susan Kare-style ‘my computer’ icon on my ass. But how do you describe a PC in a world where the closest thing is a goddamned ENIAC?
Read a Sweetie BelleCutie mark: ‘Television Typewriter’. Brilliant. I didn’t even care if ponies had proper TVs or not. It was brill as fuck and there’d be further discussion about it. I turned the form in to the lady behind the counter, who took a few good looks at it. I flashed my best smile at her. “Very well, sir”, she said after a tense couple minutes. Or maybe seconds, fucked if I know. Can’t tell, don’t care to. “Welcome to Ponyville.” I staggered back out of Town Hall feeling very much as if my spirits were lifted. Trying to keep the volume down a bit as my odd mode of locomotion caught enough attention already, I found myself humming that one mashup of the Doctor Who and My Little Pony theme songs. Having random songs stuck in my head really helped pass the time. I encountered Pinkie Pie once more on my random way to Twilight’s library. Y’see, my second objective, I had decided, should be to accumulate as much factual information as possible. Especially in language – if they seriously used ‘sire’ and ‘dam’ instead of ‘father’ and ‘mother’, who knows what sort of stupid mistakes I could avoid with half a dictionary up in there? “Hello, mysterious hat pony”, Pinkie greeted. “Still drunk?” Somehow, and I still don’t know how exactly, I managed to tip my hat at the pony. “Hi again, miss. I wasn’t plunk in the first drace.” Smooth. Ordinary phrases come out as a bumblefuck of realistic diction, but somehow the comedy gods let me joke at regular speed? Ah, who even gives a shit. With enough forced practice I should get better at spoken English… Equestrian? I probably must’ve passed the library at least once before I found it and knocked on the door. “It’s open”, a young male-ish voice called out. That was probably Spike, though it was harder to tell through the door than I thought. Anyway, I gave the door a good push and walked right into the side of the doorway. Spike was there almost before I finished saying “ow fuck”. “Are you okay, mister? That looked like it hurt”, he asked. “I’ll be fine… thank you. Do you… have any dictionaries?” “Sure, mister… Mister…?” “Kawa”, I introduced myself with another impossible hat tip. “D’ya mind if I hang out here with one? I don’t have any… I don’t have a place to go.” “You don’t?” the little dragon asked in confirmation. “Nope, ‘n no cash ayther”, I admitted with another sick snort. “Gonna have to… do somethin’ ‘bout that.” Just a moment later, I was sitting in the corner with an Equestrian dictionary. I skipped ahead to the S just to confirm that ‘sire’ thing. I noticed a few extra letters on the way, but I’d look into those after. sire (say-er) n.: male parent. contrast dam. Yeah okay. That’s one obvious thing confirmed. Now, I’ve never been very good at reading pronunciation guides, but that seemed a pretty fun way to say ‘sire’. I stopped for a moment to recall how the lady from Town Hall had pronounced it. foot (fuht) n.: lower extremity of bipedal beings such as a diamond dog or dragon. see also hand, claw. cu·tie mark (cyú-ti marhk) n.: symbol representing special talent. also talent brand, rarely butt symbol. Heh. I knew about butt symbols, but ‘talent brand’ was new to me. Gotta be sure now, so I flipped over to the letter H for Hentai and several other things. As I’d almost had expected. No entry for ‘human’. Which was actually good, in a way; if I were to meet a certain pony she wouldn’t be likely to ask stupid-ass questions. That whole thing was overdone anyway. No sense beating a prone pony. Now what was that one new letter? I flipped over to the letter just between A and B. It seemed like your average AE ligature, and apparently counted as its own letter. And what do I see right in the middle? That’s right. æl·corn (ayhl-corn) n.: 1 - horn of a unicorn or pegacorn. 2 - substance of horn. 3 - (rarely) syn. pegacorn. sometimes written ‘ali·corn’. Cælesha (sayh-lesh'ya) p.n.: immortal goddess of the sun and ruling princess. No T? I could deal with that. And it seemed like you weren’t allowed to break her name at the end of a line, considering the lack of middle dots. After roughly two hours of plodding through that dictionary, I had the basic differences down and maybe the others would form some nice sediment to randomly call upon. When I stood up and carefully cracked my aching limbs, a familiar lavender unicorn walked up to me and took the dictionary in her telekinetic grasp. After she put it back where Spike had taken it from without looking, she turned to me. “Hi there. I’m Twilight Sparkle”, she started to introduce herself. She must’ve picked up on my being new here. Was it Pinkie or the lady from Town Hall that tipped her off? Did it even matter? I was about to make an ass of myself anyway. Hat tip, somehow. “Kawa, nice to, eh... Nice to meet you, heh...” Speaking normally was somehow even more difficult this time. Possibly because this was an unattached, nerdy as all get-the-fuck-out young woman in rooouuughly my age bracket, and pretty good-looking for an equine. The fact that she sounded like Tara Strong with a smexy accent didn’t help. “You must be ah…” I fumbled. I couldn’t show too much foreknowledge from watching the show, after all. “You must be the ah… personal student of Princess Celestia, right?” Fuck you, accent. Fuck you right in your non-existent ass. You do not pronounce the Celesha-thrice-damned T you just fucking learned not to do that! “Caelesha, you mean. And yes, yes I am”, Twilight corrected and confirmed with a noticeable pride. “But if I’m the Princess’ Faithful Student, what are you?” “Umm… A homeless, jobless piece of crap with a fancy hat?” I blurted out. “Well”, the librarian pondered as she gave me a quick look-over, stopping at my shirt. “You certainly don’t seem to be here to make friends. Take it from me, mister Kawa; you’ll find out how wrong that shirt is soon enough.” How delightfully foreboding. “I’m shuuure”, I mocked as I realized I was indeed wearing my ‘not here to make friends’ shirt. “Now, where and how can I earn some quick bits?”
Put your date-face onTwilight Sparkle was visiting her friend Rarity in the boutique. “So I told him to wander around Ponyville a bit, ‘cause you know there’s always somepony who could use a helping hoof, right?” she finished. “Quite so, darling”, Rarity agreed. “Why, I could imagine, if this mysterious stallion is as strapping as you make him out to be, he could make quite some bits in our dear Applejack’s orchards, wouldn’t you agree?” Twilight sat and pondered for a short while, watching as Rarity floated a pot of hot water and some tea bags in from the kitchen. “Actually Rarity, I don’t think ‘strapping’ is the right word here. I haven’t had that good an opportunity to look, but even though this guy’s easily as large as Big Macintosh or Shining Armor, he doesn’t seem nearly as muscular”, Twilight explained. “Still, from what I know about apple bucking, he could do pretty well, maybe.” Rarity listened closely as she filled two cups with water and picked a bag. The white unicorn chose Ceylon. “What I find most intriguing about our mystery pony is his accent.” “Whatever do you mean, darling?” “Well, it just sounds… I don’t know… ‘off’?” Rarity gave her a look that simultaneously said “carry on” and “the great Twilight Sparkle doesn’t know, wow”. “The first thing he did when he came to the library was read a dictionary, front to back, but then when I introduced myself he pronounced Caelesha’s name as ‘Celestia’. ‘Tee-a’, Rarity! Nopony – no-body ever puts a T there! I’ve read about all sorts of different accents, dialects, and languages, but this is literally the first time I heard somepony call her that.” Rarity was duly impressed and gave Twilight an unbelieving gaze as she took a sip of her tea. “Honestly, dear?” “Yes! And there’s all sorts of words he pronounces funny! Such as… words with an A in them”, Twilight continued. “Do drink your hot water, darling. It’s getting cold.” “Y’know, Rarity?” “What?” “He actually sounds pretty… exotic”, Twilight said almost wistfully. “You’re kidding me, right?” Rarity replied as she carefully set down her cup. “Exotic accent, obvious interest in studies…” Twilight mused as she hovered a few different tea bags around in front of her. “I’m going to have to stop you there, Twilight darling”, Rarity half-jokingly interjected as Twilight picked a Darjeeling from the floating cluster and put it in her cup. Before Twilight could continue her merry descend onto the path to nightmares, there was a knock on the boutique’s door and a perspective shift in the narrative. “Just a moment please~” I waited in front of the door for someone – somepony to open. A few moments later, I heard a latch click and the top half of the door swung away, revealing exactly who I expected. “I’m so sorry sir, but the boutique is closed at this time. I’m in the middle of a lunch break with a dear friend”, Rarity explained. Somehow, her Midwestern accent in the show translated to a somehow even thicker Equestrian accent. Canterlot, maybe? I just tipped my hat (somehow) once more. Ingrained hat-related behaviors were my best idea yet. And for a change, I merely smiled, keeping my teeth hidden. “Yes ah… I expected as much. Mister Spike told me that… that would be the case”, I explained to the somehow much more attractive in person unicorn. Not that Rarity wasn’t attractive in the show, hell naw. This was just… even better. Somehow. “Wait… you must be mister Kawa, are you not?” Rarity realized. Twilight must’ve been talking about me. “That’s right”, I said near automatically, with the requisite memetic voice imitation. Something told me using a sensual voice like that would come back to haunt me big time. “Please, come in. I take it you’re here for Twilight?” Rarity asked as she unlocked the lower half of the door and opened it. “Yeeeaaah. Not that I wouldn’t… heh… Not that I wouldn’t eventually come ‘round to see you.” I managed to produce with my regular snarky asshole voice. I could almost hear Rarity’s inner monologue. ‘Oh my, he does sound erotic. I mean, exotic.’ Her face was readable enough to make a rough inference, even to someone like me. Somepony. Whatever. The biggest clue was in the quick shift of her eyes, and the way she almost bit her lower lip. Or maybe that was just me. I mean, let’s be serious here. Between Big Mac, Shiny, and Fancy Pants, who’d want a guy like me? I could very well imagine even fucking Caramel would be more eligible. His girlfriend sure thinks so. NYUCK NYUCK. “Right this way. My dear Twilight and I were just having some tea”, Rarity said as she ushered me into the boutique. “Would you care for a cup?” I stopped to ponder a potential problem. “I’m… I’m not quite sure if I could ah… drink it without making a mess”, I confessed, uncertain if and how I could hold a cup. “Speshly in such a pretty place.” “What was that, my dear?” I snorted in thought. “Well… Sometimes I, umm, have this idea that a p-- pony’s home… reflects its inhabitants, yanno?” Rarity looked at me as if she expected me to continue doing what (to me) felt like digging my own grave. “So the ah… exterior? It’s a bit gowdy.” She frowned. Nopony would dare call the Boutique gaudy and get away with it, after all! “But now that I can see it, the inside is actually really beautiful.” That helped. Rarity was back to smiling now. That was good. Now, to finish her off. “And it’s really much a’ the same with you. Now, this… this is just my opinion but I think make-up ‘n such is highly overrated. You… jump through all these hoops erry day to make yourself look pretty, but you don’t--” I interrupted myself to (carefully!) boop Rarity on the nose for emphasis. “You don’t need to, cos you look great without allo’dat!” For a few tense moments, Rarity just stood there with a distant look in her eyes and a slightly crumpled nose. “… soooo… got any Earl Grey?”
Three Basic NeedsIt was a good week or so later that Twilight Sparkle visited me in the cheap motel I had taken residence in. It wasn’t easy to get there – I had to get my hooves on some money first so I could rent a room in the first place, but dammit if I didn’t! At the time Twilight arrived, I was just sketching all sorts of things on a shitload of paper I’d nabbed from various locations. “Come in”, I said when Twilight knocked on the door. “Hello, Kawa. I thought I’d see how my favorite not-so-homeless bum was holding up. What’re you doing?” “Designing a computer”, I replied flatly, focusing on the complete bullshit in front of me. “But b‘fo that I’ve been practicing writin’n’drawin’ with my mouth.” Twilight levitated a random page in front of her. It was, I noticed, a drawing of her and Rarity having tea. “This is pretty good for somepony who still had to learn it just one week ago”, she complimented. “I could draw before that. Just not wi… I should shut up now.” Twilight was silent for a few seconds at my refusal to finish that sentence and put the drawing back. “So… what kind of computer are you working on?” “Doesn’t really matter”, I replied as I worked on adapting seven-bit ASCII to Equestrian, optimizing some useless historical garbage as I went. “I just need something to… occupy ma mind, y’no?” Twilight nodded in supposed understanding. “There’s three things I really need”, I announced as I stood up. “There are”, Twilight corrected. “Up yours. One: a good drink”, I started to list, pointing at a small variety of different sodas. “Two: a computer, or somethin’ else to keep me busy. So I thought I’d combine the two. Three: a good fuckin’, and four a bath.” “You said there were four things”, Twilight remarked. “Yeah but then I stood up and all this musk got… released", I explained. “Can’t believe you got me on that and not the third thing.” “Well yeah”, Twilight admitted as she sorta scuffed her hooves against the floorboards. “I can understand that need, really. Who doesn’t need some intimacy now and then?” I snickered a bit at her choice of words. “What?” she said. “Now and then, you say”, I quoted as I slowly turned around to face her, an unintended predatory grin hidden below the rim of my hat, my active eye staring right at Twilight. The words came out fluent and dark, my Dutch accent all but buried under a practiced movie-style American English. “Now and then. Do you have any idea what it’s like, Miss Sparkle, to have both an unhealthily large libido, strrrict personal principles on relationships, and a crippling lack of self-esteem and thus nopony to have such a relationship with?” She took a careful step back. “Not from personal experience, I don’t”, she replied softly. As if a switch had been thrown, the entire scary persona dropped, leaving just the regular me in its place. Though, to be honest, so many appearances are an act, I often feel like I’m not sure what the real me is like. But this is close enough. I slumped to the floor. “Drives a guy completely whacko”, I whispered as I turned back around, flopped onto this cheap-ass bed and assumed an approximation of the fetal position, to try and softly cry into the pillow. Again, I couldn’t possibly tell you how much of that was an act. That must be kinda like how Peter Sellers must’ve felt. Behind me, Twilight stuck around to check out the designs I made. I had the aforementioned “ESCII” code sheet, some machine code operand lists (not too many cos I like taking RISCs), a schematic view showing how the program code and data would share the same memory space… all it was missing was a physical design, cos I had not the second clue how these ponies could possibly implement such things. The first clue I did have was that maybe gems and magic charges were the key, which I had duly noted. Hidden at the bottom of the clusterfuck-that-would-be-a-stack was a sheet with what the design could be called. I basically spent an hour or so thinking up horse puns on “von Neumann” and “Princeton”. There was, of course, a big ol’ sloppy circle around “von Newmare”. I’d given it bonus points for being horrible. “This is really very interesting, you know”, Twilight remarked. “Having the instructions and values share the same space… wouldn’t that let instructions write more instructions?” “Yeah, ‘n change existing ones too, if you need to. But… as much as I’d love to stick around ‘n talk tech, I think I should… I dunno, go out and, eh… explore town a bit?” “Maybe you should. You’ve been cooped up in here for quite a while now, so maybe you should go out and make some friends.” I looked up and gave the unicorn a derpy Kubrick stare from under my hat. “That’s rich, comin’ from you.” Twilight snorted. “Just… get out of here, okay?” “I’ll get my coat.” A few minutes later, I found myself wandering through Ponyville. As I tried to locate some waypoints and important locations, I spotted one specific pony sitting at a café with a drink. The one pony I had consistently proclaimed best pony. Cheeri-motherfucking-lee. I took a moment or two to collect myself. I could do this! It was Cheerilee, and even if she didn’t have the radical 80’s look anymore, she was still best pone and as Celestia was my witness I would— --completely lose my kung-fu grip on my train of thought and watch helplessly as it once again derailed and went on a disastrous rampage, nearly picking off a washed-out secret agent and finally coming to a full but crumpled stop at Total Loser Pussy Central Station. I could almost feel the color drain from my face as I ducked into an alleyway and dropped down with my back against the wall.
Muffins and MeltdownsAs I sat there, slumped against a wall and openly weeping – I should elaborate on that a little and mention that I usually remain stoic as a windrammer until I’m alone and then weep – I barely paid any notice at all to any passing ponies that happened to spot me. I figure such a sort of emotional display is relatively acceptable here, socially speaking. So fuck it, bring the waterworks. Let them see. What I most certainly did not expect was for one of them to approach me. Between the sobs and popped eardrums I couldn’t quite make out who it was, but an oddly male-sounding, sing-song voice asked me that one thing that revealed their identity right there at the final question mark. “You okay, mister? Anything I can do to help?” It couldn’t be. But yeah, it was her. Derpy, the one other pony in this Celestia-all-but-forsaken hole in the ground that was probably more fucked up in the sensory department than I. Not to mention fashion. “Mister?” she repeated, and prodded me on the forehead with her hoof. That was easy, as my hat had finally fallen off when I hit the wall with the back of my head. “Yeah”, I mumbled as I pulled myself back off of the wall. “Fo’ now… one thing.” I embraced Derpy in a careful but still sort of jerky-like hug and cried some more on her shoulder. It felt nice, really, another pony’s body warmth and all that. Derpy seemed surprised at it all if the short gasp was any indication to go by, but soon hugged me back. “Why are you crying, mister?” she asked as I wondered for just a moment if ‘Derpy’ really was her name. “Did you get any bad news?” “No… not news. I’m just…” I stopped trying to formulate the rest of my sentence right there. Derpy didn’t need to know I was crying for being too much of a cowardly little shit to get out there and sweep Cheerilee off her hooves… and I really shouldn’t have thought that. Two-thirds through the thought, the dams burst once more. I just held Derpy tight and made a mess of the fur on her back. “You shouldn't be hiding when you're sad, you know”, Derpy softly said in my ear. “You never know what might happen when you're alone and things look glum.” “I guess. Could run into a pony like you”, I whispered back. It was out and done before I realized what I was saying, and I quickly released my hold on Derpy. I’m pretty sure I must’ve been red in the face right then. “I mean – I din’t – you just…” “You’re silly, mister.” Very acute observation ma’am, please continue. It took me a good two seconds or something (I dunno, could’ve been ten, you know how it goes by now) to realize I was staring. My active eye at the time – the left one – was focusing squarely on Derpy’s one eye that was facing in the approximately correct direction, the other looking slightly off to the side. I blinked, switched to the right, and looked right into Derpy’s clear white sclera, my own undoubtedly tinged red from crying like that. To be entirely honest, a guy could get lost in those eyes. And since I’d spent several seconds staring at them, I reckon I did just that. “Scuse me for staring”, I half-mumbled in apology. Derpy just giggled. “Ponies do that sometimes. I got used to it. But maybe you should head home, pick up something sweet on the way. That might cheer you up.” Thank you for giving me the opening, dear sweet Derpy. “I feel like muffins”, I said, pretending I had just gotten the idea and watching for a reaction. Derpy’s ears perked up and for a moment her eyes aligned in attention. “Y’wanna come with?” “Sure, mister. I’d love to go out and buy muffins with you!” “Call me Kawa, please”, I said with rapidly rebuilding confidence as I looked around for the nearest waypoint to guide me towards Sugarcube Corner. “Ah, there it is.” Now, I knew a whole bunch of things about all the main characters, like Twilight and her friends, but all my knowledge about background ponies like Derpy was entirely based on fanon. The suggestion to go get muffins was a total shot in the dark in that regard, and it seemed a hit – I just couldn’t tell how on-center it was. “Kawa… that’s a strange name for a pony, isn’t it?” Derpy asked as we left the alley. “Maybe. Maybe… what’s your name then? Bubbles?” I replied half-jokingly, with a quick glimpse at her butt for good measure and acting. “No it isn’t. I’m Derpy!” “I know you are, but what’s your name?” “You’re such a joker, mister Kawa. You should meet Pinkie Pie.” “Nah, been there already”, I shrugged, then put on my best Christopher Lee voice. “What a strange little pony.” About two minutes and a whole lotta pink later, we had a paper bag full of muffins. Enough of them to share between us, no less, because that shit apparently came pretty cheap for some fortuitous reason, which might have had something to do with my current companion. “If you wanna stick around some more, Derpy, I really suggest we don’t go to my place”, I said as we left the store. “Place is a total mess right now.” “How big of a mess do you mean, mister Kawa?” Oh cut it out with the ‘mister’ bullshit already. “Lessay… ah… papers everywhere”, I admitted. “Also, food wrappers and empty soda bottles. Lots of ‘em.” “You sound like a sloppy pony”, Derpy said. It didn’t sound like much of an admonishment, really. “I’ve had a rough time”, I said to try and excuse myself. It wasn’t even a lie – at least not with regards to the wrappers and bottles. For a moment, I let my sensibilities slip, and my dick speak for me. “But there’s… other ways I can be a sloppy pony”, I said unthinkingly. In my mind, I bucked my own face in and somewhat expected Derpy to do so for real, even as I flashed a smile. “I guess we should go to my house then. I cleaned up this morning”, Derpy considered out loud. She mustn’t have noticed my sleaze was showing. “If my little muffin hasn’t been playing too much it should still be…” “Presentable?” I offered, taking note of an increasing possibility of Dinky. “Yes, ‘presentable’. Thank you mi–Kawa.” “Lead the way, m’lady.” We got to Derpy’s house in what seemed like no time at all, possibly because I spent most of our walk there thinking about how not to fuck up. I was just considering a topic to talk about that did not have anything to do with my feelings or my growing needs, when Derpy led me into the living room. Sure enough, there were some child’s – I mean, foal’s drawings pinned to the wall, and at least two more on the fridge. As Derpy tried to be an excellent host and checked her stock of suitable drinks, I checked out one of the drawings. It depicted a little purple unicorn sitting on the back of a gray pegasus twice her size, helpfully labeled “mom” and “mɘ”, with “dinki agɘ 3” in the corner. Yeah, with the reversed Ǝ’s and everything. Theory confirmed. Thank you, dear sweet Dinky. “Can I get you anything to drink, mi–Kawa? Hot cocoa, maybe?” Derpy offered with her head in a kitchen cabinet. “No thanks, I prefer my chocolate cold”, I replied in all honesty. “Yanno what? Forget about drinks, I’ll pass.” Truth be told, the longer I spent with this mare, the more I thought this could be it. Drinks were the last thing on my mind. “So eh… this ‘Dinky’… your daughter?” I asked knowingly. “Yep. She’s my little muffin”, Derpy confirmed. Her voice was almost sickening when she said that, so I reckoned she must really love the foal. Which was, all things considered, a very good thing. Still, I braced for impact and asked the one thing I feared to ask. “If ya don’t mind me asking… who’s the, eh… sire?” Was that right? “Not sure”, Derpy admitted as she entered the living room, a plate with our newly-bought muffins and a single cup of hot cocoa, probably for herself, balancing on her back and supported on the sides by her wings. I raised a single eyebrow and watched as Derpy sat down next to me. “I never caught his name, but he was a really sweet guy. He said he’d be back… but when he did, it was like he didn’t recognize me anymore.” I had my fears on the identity of “the guy”, but I decided not to pursue it. Instead, I put an arm – yeah, arm – on the back of the couch, careful not to touch Derpy. Not yet. “After a day or two, I decided not to pursue it. Sometimes, ponies just look alike, I thought, and…” “It’s okay, D. From where I’m standing, you’ve… held up great, since then”, I said, trying to comfort Derpy and maybe kinda fix my mistake of bringing “the guy” up. “You really think so, mister? I mean, Kawa?” “Hey”, I started as I put that arm around Derpy. “I just met you, right? I may be crazy, but you’re a very beautiful lady.” “Beautiful? But… my eyes are all…” “Derpy?” “I guess. And I’m such a klutz sometimes.” “Everypony’s a klotz, sometimes. At least you have an excuse. Me too, kinda. No depth perception worth a damn. Really gets in m’way, sometimes.” It was almost like Derpy hadn’t noticed it before, but it was her turn to stare at my eyes. I’m sure they weren’t nearly as pretty as hers, but what the hay, y’know? One of her eyes drifted south, and she gasped. “Wha?” I asked as I snapped out of my slowly building reverie. “You have a… Am I that beautiful?” Derpy asked between giggles. “Fuck are you talkin’bout?” I muttered as I tore myself away from Derpy’s face and glanced oh dear princess Celestia where the fuck did that come from? “…I guess so”, I replied as I shifted my legs in a feeble attempt to regain some dignity (AS IF!) and cursed the overall lack of pants. Which was not to be confused for the pant lack of overalls. Yeah. I’ll get my coat. “Curse you, biology”, I said as I pulled down my hat, as if to hide the shame on my face. “What’s wrong, mister Kawa?” Derpy asked. I made some sort of non-committal growly noise to buy some thinking time. “Eh… personal principles, low self-esteem…” I stood up on my hind legs for added drama, ignoring the horthcock such an act would release. Fuck the cock – I had a giant cow to milk and no fucking fingers! Still, up they went to gesticulate. I was gonna go balls out on this, literally and figuratively, and if Derpy still accepted me in her house, that’d be a real triumph. “Fear of history repeating itself one more fucking time. Mind sayin’ I shouldn’t take risks, that I shouldn’t… I dunno, ‘take advantage’ of a single working mother, while my body’s quite fucking clearly being a hormonal douchenozzle and sayin’ I should do you right here on the couch until you do see straight!” I paused for a breath, and to regain my balance. I must’ve made such an ass of myself. Still, the switch was flipped back, and the only remaining signs of my outburst were my breathing and Derpy’s silence. It remained silent in the house for a good half a minute, when Derpy finally spoke up. “Is that why you were crying earlier?” she asked. I sit back on the couch, a little further away from Derpy than before, and slump. I nodded. “Did it make you feel better to say all of that?” “…Yeah.” Oh well. At least my boner subsided, and I haven’t been expelled yet.
