A Kindred Spirit

Twilight and I dabbled about in the finer points of the revelations that had occurred a few minutes ago as Spike cooked a meal, which he seemed quite enthusiastic to do. I smelled butter being heated in the frying pan and the fires of my hunger were realized, igniting into a raging inferno. My mind had been so occupied with today's events I had forgotten my neglect of breakfast, and even now it was rather late for lunch--one o' clock. The wayward inquisitiveness of my train of thought eventually touched on the method of cooking they were using, as it appeared to be a dedicated stovetop and was not fueled by wood or any other form of traditional biomass.

"So how does your stove work? I don't think you have gas lines in town...do you? And that has to be butter I smell."

Twilight answered succinctly. "We don't have gas lines--but hm, interesting concept, although it sounds dangerous. What we do have are fluid containers, which usually hold the products of destructive distillation of some kind of biomass. Depending on what you've got, it's either liquid or gas... Spike, what are you making?" Too similar.

Spike, who was utilizing a stool to reach the top of the counter, answered Twilight at mention of his name. "Oh, um, I'm making eggplant sandwiches. Yeah, I'm using some butter." The hiss of the hot oils in the pan indicated the entry of what could be assumed to be bread.

Eggplant? They have some infrastructure. "How is it put together, like a BLT, or what?"

"BLT?" Twilight inquired.

"Yeah, bacon, lettuce, tomato..." wait a minute--

She caught the implication of the statement very quickly, and seemed to receive it with little friction. "Oh, so you're an omnivore? Spike is too, but he just eats vegetarian. Then again, he does eat gemstones and I've never really asked if he wanted any meat before. But now, I trust pony isn't a part of your diet?" She presented this in a humorous way, similar to a mother expecting an answer out of a young child.

"No. Well, it's technically possible. Horses were on occasion eaten if there was nothing else to eat in a desperate situation..." Twilight seemed a little nervous, tail flicking and ears twitching. "...but the horses of Earth are not intelligent creatures. I seriously doubt that any human could eat a sapient being, and those that could would be shunned by the overwhelming majority." The nervousness abated to curiosity once more. The expressiveness of pony ears was somewhat endearing, and could be likened to that of a dog. However, dogs didn't have quite human countenances and expressions like the ponies did. Speaking with a pony was really an interesting experience, and body language translated rather well, all things considered. The tail was also a unique form of expression, but its motion did not necessarily correlate with an emotion.

"I see. You have creatures like us on your home planet?"

"Yes. They're all different sizes, but proportionally, their bodies are bigger, heads more elongated and less expressive, eyes much smaller, fur only in shades of white, black, grey, brown, beige, and reddish-brown, and do not have horns or wings. However, in classical times, pegasi were mythical, and unicorns have been a part of myth since antiquity. However, there was not always distinction between the two, as unicorns were occasionally presented with wings."

"Hm. The appearance of creatures such as yourself seemed to have appeared in ancient drawings or artwork, but many simply assumed they were a subset of deformed minotaur. It's been somewhat of a debate among the scholarly for a long time, and we could not work out a proper name. The ones who have--rightly, apparently--called them a different species settled on the name Homosse-sapiennes--

"That's what we call ourselves in binomial nomenclature, or, rather, Homo sapiens sapiens," I interjected. "Ah, interesting."

By this time, Spike had arrived at the table, carrying two plates, which he deposited on the table. A pair of delectable-looking sandwiches sat on the table, with golden brown toasted bread and healthy-looking bits of lettuce and tomato peeking out from the sides, complete with toothpick to hold the ensemble together..

"Wow, Spike, you're really getting good at this," Twilight praised.

"Thanks Twilight," Spike replied, coming to the table with his own sandwich. "It's a classic, and pretty hard to mess up, admittedly."

The purple pony was the first to take a bite, quickly followed by Spike. I was not exactly a person with the broadest of culinary tastes, but this looked quite good and was graciously prepared for me by my hosts. I was also starving. I bit into the triangular collection of calories, my hunger realized.

Such a simple creation, this, but it was wholesome and tasted quite good. The usual crunch and gelatinous textures and mild flavors of the lettuce and tomato greeted my palate and introduced me to their friend the eggplant, an unusual fellow who had a strikingly similar texture to that of a thin slice of meat, and an unusual flavor profile that was somewhat sweet, buttery, and salty. Although distinct from bacon, the eggplant produced a similar effect in this sandwich and was a compatible substitute for the crispy, fat-imbued slices of pork usually featured in a composition like this one. I devoured the sandwich, but my hunger was not yet satisfied.

"Hey, Spike, got any more?" I saw that the dragon was only about a third to a half of the way through his meal, and the intellectual mare was perhaps two thirds through. He swallowed and answered, "Yeah, there's more on the counter. Help yourself."

I did. I needed to thank my hosts. "This is interesting. The eggplant is an unusual but quite fitting substitute for bacon."

"Bacon? That's a cut of pork, right?" Twilight seemed both interested and a little uneasy over the subject, which was understandable, the herbivorous creature that she was.

"Yes," I answered simply.

The purple pony seemed to be debating whether to say something, biting her lip, flicking her tail, and ears twitching. Something was obviously brewing beneath the surface.

"I know how you said you couldn't eat sapient creatures, but pigs, cows, chickens, and other animals we raise here are all...moderately intelligent. None of them are on par with ponies, but they are intelligent enough to understand simple concepts. A common contract in most lands is that the raised animals are provided a safe and comfortable life in exchange for the control of their handlers. This is nigh-universally accepted in the case of basic productions of the animals' life processes, such as milk. Some of my people advocate for the freedom of all pastoral animals and the criminalization of their deaths for butchers' markets, but they're generally considered to be on the extreme end, especially since none of these creatures ever actually complain for themselves and the fact that carnivorous beings such as griffons must eat as well. Some even go so far as to denounce the process of harvesting the eggs of chickens, even consensually. Questions have also been raised over the treatment of the animals to be pressured into these contracts or the suppression of the desire for their freedom or possession of their eggs by threats of force, but this is also considered unlikely. I'd like to know your honest opinion on this matter." An encouraging, if somewhat shy, smile lay on her face. She had taken a leap to ask my opinion on a controversial topic and did not know what the result would be.

I considered this information. "Well... if the animals consent to the contract at a point where they can understand it, then I think it's fine. Brutalization and neglect of your livestock, however, especially as semi-intelligent creatures, is heinous, and there should be at least rudimentary legislation prohibiting it. As an omnivore and a common consumer of meat products, I really appreciate the steps your kind takes to provide for those unlike yourselves, and the kind that we eat as well. I couldn't eat a piece of meat from a semi-intelligent cow if I knew it had not consented to its slaughter. My question is, how do they so calmly and in full knowledge walk towards their deaths? That's a true show of bravery, loyalty, and constancy to your commitments. My sense of self-preservation would be screaming at me to run away, even if they had provided for me their whole lives and had a legitimate reason for doing so."

"It's mostly agreed on that the majority of that sense has been bred out of them. Their behavior often reflects this, to the partial detriment of the ranchers. Losing livestock is never good for business."

"Hm," I answered, wordlessly. The rest of the meal passed in thoughtful silence.

After the meal, with stomach full, my thoughts turned to other such maintenance tasks to perform on my body. I became aware that I had not bathed or brushed my teeth since my arrival in Equestria, which led to a feeling of dreadful uncleanliness. I endeavored to do these things before returning to whatever other enlightened discussions would occur.

"If you don't mind, may I use your shower?" I asked my hosts.

"Sure, no problem. Up the stairs, first door on your right. Soap bars are on the little rack right outside the shower." Twilight was quite a helpful young mare.

As soon I set foot into the tiny bathroom, I realized that it was made for quadrupedal creatures almost half my size. Everything was low and small, the toilet was clearly designed to have ponies stand backwards and lean against to use, the sink was a large waterfall-type feature in which the front hooves were presumably placed on the top half and the rear on the lower, with a similar towel setup. The shower, however, was remarkably similar, despite being intended for creatures averaging 4'8" and being set up for such.

Having locked the door behind me--an action I questioned the effectiveness of, due to the presence of unicorns...interesting thought train, remember this one-- I disrobed, quite literally, and proceeded into the shower. I was presented with the similar sights of a common, if more exposed, shower setup. The valves on the exposed pipes were simple enough to operate, and due to the presence of hot and cold, indicated that a water heater existed, but the faucet was directly in line with my eyes. I would have to get creative to properly wash.

I waited for the water to heat. Adapting and handling all the little things in this room made me aware of their similarities to the situation I was in right now. I was a foreign entity in a land composed of different creatures, if helpful and accommodating. The friendliness of everyone I had met helped make me feel welcome, but it was so unusual, and made it hard to find where my feet were planted in terms of my part in the big picture, and any sort of plan for the future was not possible to form without this knowledge of my niche.

The pain over my lack of self-knowledge lingered as ever. I knew not my life, my family, my friends, or if I even had any. What must my family and friends be feeling right now? The thought made me sick.

Worse, though, was the thought that absolutely nobody cared. That I was an outcast. A criminal, who had done cruel and wicked things to people. Who had I hurt? Who had I alienated? Had I even been a killer?

I stepped into the steaming shower, rivers of hot water beginning to flow across my skin, eroding the soils that hung about from my early days in Equestria. My train of thought was undaunted, but far-fetched. I was not even an adult. Although I had the knowledge to be a killer, almost everyone did, in reality. It was unlikely I would have done so to anyone, given my fortunately still present sense of morality. But what if that morality was simply an innocent one, generated by some philosophies I had unconsciously imprinted upon in my post-transport state? My imagination was acting as my archenemy, and I couldn't rule out or confirm any of the possibilities milling about upstairs.

Exiting the bathroom on a wave of steam and wrapped in my deliciously soft robes, I began to descend the stairs back to the ground floor again, without the service of my shoes. When I reached the living space, I discovered my bag laying on the table, and Twilight's eyes being just above the edge, looking at it, ears straight up. This produced a quite comical effect and I couldn't help but laugh a bit to myself. She didn't react, which made it harder to stop. I managed it, however, and thought of the many things that must not happen for her to observe my computer.

"So... I know there's something in here. Can I see it?" She popped up from beneath the table now, sitting on her rear, not unlike a dog.

I sighed passively. "Okay, this whole device is based on tiny electrical currents running through very specific and individual paths. To be safe, please don't use any magic on it. Also, be very gentle and do not drop it." I scanned through my head for any other rules I could think of, but none came.

"Okay." Plainly, the rapt attention paid to the rules I'd laid out was a preface for me to get this interesting piece of alien technology into her hooves so that it may be examined. I sat down on one of the sofa, pulled it out of the bag, and opened the lid, pressing the power button. The screen lit, and the fan began to whir softly. I deduced from the Resuming Windows... message I was presented with that the laptop had gone into hibernation, which had me worried. Would this benefit from the same strange power-sustaining effects as my phone? I hoped so. I extracted the mouse from the backpack, but my hand bumped something else whilst inside, another bit of plastic. I removed this, and examined it.

A large pair of black over-ear headphones hung in my hand, cord dangling from the jack on the side. This struck me as odd, but a blur stood over the recollections that would have helped me. I didn't think... ugh. I abandoned attempting to find the information I wanted, as it was hopelessly obscured.

Twilight was watching the screen with hungry eyes as she moved closer to me to get a better look at the glossy LCD panel. It could be easily surmised that every fiber of her being was attuned to absorbing everything she possibly could about this fascinating instrument. Spike meandered over as well. No different from back home. I smiled. If there was a screen, people would observe it. The draw of activity was often too much to resist, even to the commonly aloof.

The reboot message gave way to the "lock screen," which only had one user that required no password to access. I casually tapped the enter key and awaited the slow population of my desktop with the windows of programs I had left open on its last use. The first thing I did was check the battery. It displayed the charging icon and the encouraging message of Fully charged (100%), which prompted a small internal celebration. Whatever magic was providing my devices a steady stream of electricity was practically angelic in my eyes. I wouldn't have to worry about the sadness of a dead battery with no means to charge it, or the trials and tribulations of embarking on a long quest to provide such a means.

For some odd reason, I then allowed my eyes to drift over to the right a little more, and checked the network icon, which was obviously displaying Ready to Connect. Again, for some illogical reason, I clicked the icon, leading to the obvious fruitless scan for networks. I lamented the loss of that which I had held so dear, the vast expanses of knowledge and entertainment that was the internet. My browser served no purpose, as did most of Steam, which was currently engaging in a futile search for updates, without it. Several of the games I had were also unplayable without internet access. But there's always... that one.

King Gaben's social gaming and marketplace service knew how many hours I had logged on it, and it was well on its way to striking an eventual four figures. After the program had booted, now permanently in offline mode, I entered the library and clicked on the title.

Kerbal Space Program

YOU'VE PLAYED: 718 hours

Along with various other statistics and a multitude of screenshots involving spacecraft and other engineered nonsense, I checked the time, which displayed as 2:07 PM.

We've got time.

I hit the "play" button, and whilst the computer loaded both the stock and myriad modded parts and resources, I entered a long, long conversation with the scholarly mare at my side about all things computers, and, over the next few (read: as many as was practical until the day's end) hours, anything and everything she might want to know about.

Tell me if you want more writing for this chapter. TELL ME. I'm trying to write a better story here.