Author: DangerousAmoeba
Pastebin URL: p9LJhxwe.html
Date: June 17 2019

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>Thunder follows lighting in a stormy night.
>A stallion walks through the streets of ponyville, holding a small crying foal on his back.
>A weak little baby, only a few weeks old.
>It’s far too late for any pony to be out and about at this time.
>Let alone a stallion with a small filly.
>Perfect time for what the stallion was about to do.
>”I’m sorry, I can’t take care you, you have to understand.”
>The baby can’t understand
>She continues to cry, asking some parent to hold her.
>”This is all your mothers fault! Don’t blame me!”
>Despite the cover, the rain easily seeps in to it’s basket.
>The baby simply squirms helplessly.
>The stallion runs up and down streets, between houses.
>”Ugh! Shut up already! If I could just find a house with a cover I could just leave you!”
>Although the baby doesn’t understand what the parent is saying, it understands the anger in his voice.
>This just makes her cry harder.
>”Hah! There’s one!”
>A small two-story house sits alone, far away from the other houses.
>Like it was an unwanted after thought to the town.
>The stallion quickly moves towards the dimly lit house.
>He puts the basket with the small child in front of the door on the stranger’s porch.
>The filly thinks it will finally receive the love it needs, but the stallion doesn’t even look at the baby before walking away.
>The baby looks around for a parent
>Somepony to give her some warmth, as the cold is becoming unbearable.
>Her tiny mind simply doesn’t understand what is happening, and she shivers.
>She begins to cry instinctively huddling into her basket for warmth.
>The cold is unbearable and it’s not letting up.
>She doesn’t know what to do, other than cry and hope somepony turns up.
>Her crying quiets down, as the cold is too much for her.
>She just doesn’t have the energy to cry.
>Closing her eyes, she gently cries, unaware of what to do.
>Then suddenly, as if a blessing from the stars themselves.
>The lights of the house turn on.
>She opens her eyes, and there is a warm yellow glow around the door.
>She sniffles a few times and cries a little.
>The door opens, and the inside warmth warms her tiny body.
>At the door stands the shadow of an odd creature, something the tiny pony had never seen before.
>Two long slender legs that join at an arch to form a long body that ends with a head.
>Two more slender leg like appendages stick out the sides.
>The appendages have appendages too.
>It has these set of appendages arc, resting where it’s long legs meet.
>Though far from the prettiest creature in Equestria, it’s the only one who’s around.
>The little filly sniffles and babbles to try and explain it’s condition.
>The creature looks where the sound is coming from and sees the basket
>He kneels down and presses his alien face into the baby.
>Though his features are alien, he seems similar enough for the small baby to see the kindness in his eyes.
>”Babe? I’m AiE.”
>It says to the small child, obviously understanding it doesn’t understand.
>But his tone of voice is kind and caring.
>Even if his breath has a foul odor the baby remembers from her mother.
>The small child babbles and sniffles.
>”You were alone? Didn’t you get to bring parents?”
>The baby sniffles and moans, while waving it’s hooves around.
>”No. I’m just wondering why someone would have a baby, before throwing it on a door step.”
>The ‘AiE’ rubs two fingers on the fillies cheeks.
>Feeling the warmth of his appendages, the baby grabs the hand with it’s tiny weak hooves.
>”Let’s get you inside, I’ll call it in.”
>AiE picks up the baby as gentle as he could, and brings her inside the small warm home.
>He puts her basket aside, and closes the door.
>His movement is fumbly and unsure.
>But she doesn’t care.
>The baby sniffles nuzzling the creature who’s giving her the love she hadn’t received yet from anypony else.
>The large creature sits in front of the fireplace, and discards her soaked blankets.
>He lays the child on his lap, and stokes the fire.
>The fire rises.
>The baby feels the warmth from the fireplace, drying her damp fur.
>The baby still clings to the creature; Celestia knows when he will be taken away too.
>He rubs the babies belly with his smaller appendages.
>The babies belly is no larger than the part where the 5 smaller limbs meet.
>Feeling the soft flesh trace her sensitive belly, the baby happily mumbles.
>Finally feeling loved by somepony.
>”Don’t worry, you’re the first to stay on my aircraft.”
>The small pony holds the arm of the creature with it’s hooves.
>The creature gets up, the child worries as it’s put on the ground.
>She is too young to sit properly, so she lays on her side.
>Quickly picks up the baby again, and cradles her to the kitchen.
>The creature heats some milk to a gentle temperature.
>The baby who’s eyes and coat have dried, now happily mumbles away over the creature’s shoulder.
>Somehow, her hoof always finds itself into her mouth.
>With a glass milk, and a straw, the creature sits back down on his couch.
>It sets the milk on the table.
>A flash of lighting and thunder shakes the world around them.
>The baby tries to burrow itself into it’s alien care taker.
>”It’s ok, I’ll be a big guy.”
>He nuzzles the foal, and she tries to jam herself into his neck.
>"For you."
>Calm and mumbling, the baby leans back on the creature’s arm.
>it gets the glass of room temperature milk, and straw.
>The baby understands how to drink milk, but with a nipple.
>The creature simulates a nipple by pinching the straw when the baby sucks to prevent her breathing the milk.
>Soon, the hungry child finishes her milk.
>In front of the fireplace, she falls asleep in the creature’s arms.
>It watches over the filly, rubbing it’s belly to comfort it.
>Until he too is asleep.
--------------------------------------------------------
>It’s too early for the human to be awake.
>The sun is still up.
>The human opens his tired eyes.
>He can’t remember much from the night before.
>He thinks he remembers, the mercenary, CIA? Someone’s master plan! Crashed plane! NO SURVIVORS!
>He scans the area expecting masked men, only to find he is in the safety of his house and the fireplace burnt itself out.
>Looking around and stretching, he wonders why he fell asleep on the couch.
>usually he falls asleep behind the couch.
>On his lap, a small filly stirs.
>She opens her big eyes to the kind face from the night before.
>She babbles and waves her hooves around.
>”Woah! What’s that?”
>Alarmed, he look around, for the source of infant noises.
>The tiny little filly squirms on the human’s lap.
>Happy and smiling with no care for anything.
>She looks up mumbling at the creature who had given her more love in one night than anypony else.
>”Oh yea! You! Mosquito brought you! You’re my prize. But you were alone? You didn’t get to bring friends?”
>The baby points a hoof at the creature speaking vaguely in an alien language.
>”So... How are you?”
>He obviously never having taken care of an infant is not sure of what to do.
>The baby babbles smiling up at the human.
>He lowers his head with a confused look at places his nose to snout with the baby.
>The baby thinks he’s playing with her.
>She just barely moves her head and opens her tiny mouth, before placing it on his nose and giving the closest thing to a kiss.
>The creature shivers a little, blushing.
>He can’t help smile softly at the squirming, babbling ball of pale pink fur.
>He rubs his cheek on the babies, and she does the same.
>Her fur is softer than anything he’s ever felt. Fuzzy but silk smooth.
>He moves away and the baby looks up at him with wide eyes.
>”C’mon. Let’s see if you have any loot in that thing.”
>He picks the baby up and shoulders her.
>”You have wings? Can you fly?”
>The human gently pulls the babies delicate wings out and runs his fingers over them.
>His action makes the little filly giggle, and she outstretches her wings as best as her weak muscles allow.
>The creature carries the baby outstretched in his long arms.
>”ONE DAY! YOU WILL FLY!”
>This finally makes the baby laugh.
>Her tiny voice is soft and her smile is wide as the sky.
>*SNIFF*
>*SNIFF*
>”Did you poop?!”
>The creature curls his weird nose in disgust, and the baby notices.
>She puts up two of her tiny hoofsies and hides behind them blushing.
>”OHH! Don’t worry about it! Let’s see if I can change you.”
>He carries the baby over to her carrier.
>The baby doesn’t want to go near her carrier, she mumbles, scared.
>Attempting to barrow into her new guardian.
>”Don’t worry little guy. You’re not going back in there.”
>He straddles the worried little filly on his leg as he crouches down to look at the carrier.
>She seems OK for now, though she’s not babbling happily as she was.
>He runs a hand over the babies back to soothe the filly.
>His other hands goes through the thick carrier, stripping it for anything useful.
>He finds 2 blankets, another blanket and bedding.
>Then on further inspection, he finds a small storage compartment and opens it.
>Inside there is a stack of diapers, a baby bottle, a box of baby wipes, and another closed box of assorted things.
>”Bingo.”
>The baby is back to babbling.
>”Yes. When the supplies just right.”
>The baby doesn’t understand, but smiles at the approval of it’s guardian.
>He stands up with the baby, holding the supplies awkwardly to make sure the baby is safe.
>Stumbling slowly into his bedroom, he folds out the blanket on the double bed.
>Then places everything else around it.
>He talks the baby to his bathroom and places her on the sink edge.
>”I know it’s cold, but so is the world, MAN!”
>Despite the cold counter, and the alien’s nonsensical slurred speech, the baby continues babbling happily.
>”If all goes well, I’m keeping you.”
>He opens her diaper; she raises her legs to make it easy for him to remove it.
>”Oh! You’re a girl!”
>He is surprised by this revelation.
>He then turns away and looks down towards the ground
>”No! Bad ! Stop that! Stop that!”
>The human argues with an invisible person for a while longer.
>Meanwhile, the little filly giggles at the human’s weird outbursts.
>He turns back eventually
>”Don’t tell Mr Hansen.”
>Then he gets back to the job.
>”Now then. Let’s do this.”
>He turns away, takes a breath and gets to work.
>---
>After washing his hands for the 12th time, he still doesn’t feel clean.
>He threw the dirty diaper directly into the garbage bin outside his bathroom window.
>He wipes his hands on a hanging towel and feels the awfully dry skin.
>Still, everything went well.
>The wipes and sink made everything very simple.
>And the little filly was perfect to work on.
>Now she’s laying on the towel on the bed.
>Her toothless mouth chews on the hoof that has found it’s way in her mouth again.
>The filly watches the human walk around.
>She mumbles while following his every move.
>Eventually, he walks back to the baby, and works on putting a diaper on her.
>Gently, he ties a fresh diaper around her small body.
>Remembering to powder to prevent a rash forming, and making sure he did a good job wiping.
>Soon, he is satisfied with his work, and stands over a clean baby.
>”MISSION ACOMPLISHED!”
>He exclaims while holding his hand out with a thumb in the air.
>The baby sees his toothy smile and smiles herself copying the human.
>She thrust out a hoof, as if she had fingers.
>She holds an open mouth smile.
>The human, smiles at her and rubs his hand over hear head.
>Her ears recline down as he rubs her head, then rise back up when he moves out of the way.
>His other hand gently rubs her sensitive belly.
>She calmly, happily squirms and babbles.
>>”maff, dah.”
>”Yes! Mazda! Buy a miata! IT’S THE BEST, THE BEST. IT’S 50/50 THE BEST.”
>The alien makes nonsensical sense of the baby’s idle babbles.
>Soon, they make their way to the kitchen, where the large Alien places the baby wrapped in a blanket on the table.
>He gets to work preparing some milk for the baby and something for himself.
>The baby continues idly babbling.
>>”Blad! Yaa!”
>”CYKA BLYAT!”
>He responds to the baby as if their speaking, despite neither understanding each other.
>>”Waa, phht!”
>”Top post.”
>He cleans the bottle that he found in the carrier.
>He makes sure it no less than sparkles.
>>”Baah, daah.”
>”I know, it’s awful.”
>He heats milk to the perfect temperature.
>Then he fills the bottle.
>>”Maaah. Daaah.”
>”Don’t worry, I got your fix right here.”
>He checks the temperature of the milk by placing some on his wrist.
>Then he walks over to the happily babbling baby.
>Despite not being bound at all, she didn’t move around the table.
>”Got milk?!”
>The baby looks into the eyes of the human.
>Her big blue pupils could melt a glacier.
>>”Daah, daah!”
>The creature immediately loses his fun, nonsensical attitude.
>He’s taken back, and takes a deep breath.
>His mouth quivers, and he takes a ragged breath.
>He bends down and hugs the baby, who returns as best as she can.
>He softly kisses the babies cheek and lifts his head.
>He looks in the babies innocent eyes with his moist ones.
>”Yes. Da, da.”
>-------------------------------------------------------
>She’s not even one.
>But it’s her birthday soon.
>You’d never knew you’d be so anxious about a child’s birthday.
>It’s been a few weeks now since someone. Somepony? Left her at your doorstep.
>When you first picked her up, you were a little drunk.
>OK fine, REALLY drunk.
>You never thought you’d actually consider keeping her.
>Even the next day, when you changed her diaper –still a little drunk-, you still where thinking of taking her to the police station.
>But then she looked up at you, with those big blue eyes.
>She said ‘Daah daah’.
>You couldn’t leave her out there anymore, let that be some other child’s life, not hers.
>She’s right behind you, babbling happily, trying to climb up daddies back.
>Much livelier than the cold filly you picked up off the ground.
>She learned to walk a week ago, and you didn’t know you could be so scared of something so simple.
>She claws at your back with her tiny hooves, trying to climb up your back.
>You’re not sure why she’s doing this, but it’s adorable.
>She never seems to stop mumbling when she’s playing with you.
>You read over the note again.
>3 weeks until her birthday. Her name is Melon Medley.
>You don’t know how ponies name kids, but you’re not gonna change it.
>Besides, it means her nickname is Meme.
>It’s the little blessings in life.
>that’s all the note has.
>A name and birthdate, and a note to give her a new home.
>Not a particularly loving request for a new home. More of an uncaring add in.
>She claws trying to get a grip on your back, and then tries to lift a hoof.
>Inevitably, she slips and then she tries again.
>You reach a hand behind your back, and she puts a hoof on it.
>She weighs nothing, and you could easily pick her up with one hand.
>You put your other hand above the last, and she steps on it.
>Using your hands as steps, she finally climbs your back.
>She then lays on her belly on your shoulder.
>”Dah dah!”
>It’s like all she wanted to do was to get up to you.
>You reach your hand and pet your little girl sitting on your shoulder.
>She giggles and presses herself into your hand.
>Then she manages to balance herself on your shoulder and stand up.
>You’re afraid to move a muscle so she doesn’t fall.
>She puts her front hooves on your head and uses her rear ones to push herself up.
>She manages to climb and sit on top of your head.
>”Dah, dah!”
>She proclaims proudly from the top of your head.
“What are you doing up there?”
>She begins explaining herself.
>Which is to say she starts babbling adorable nonsense.
>She tries to stand up.
“Melon no!”
>You almost have a heart attack as she slips.
>With reflexes you didn’t know you had, both your hands shoot out and catch her.
“Are you ok?”
>The baby just laughs as you hold her.
>”Dah, dah!”
>You calm down seeing she’s fine.
>She puts a hoof in her mouth.
“Again with the hoof, I’ve told you to not do that.”
>She babbles to you, and then she raises and offers you a hoof.
“No I don’t wanna eat this.”
>”Dah dah!”
>That’s all she says, you swear.
>It’s like she knows how to get you to do anything.
>You cave and ‘eat’ her offered hoof.
>This always makes her lose it.
>Maybe it’s just because her hooves are sensitive, and this tickles them or something.
>You hope you’re not giving her some weird fetish for later on.
>Letting her hoof go, she stops laughing and starts babbling about something else.
>You always feel warm holding her.
>She’s a little angel. Your little angel.
>You set her down on your lap and she turns over.
>It’s her way of asking for belly rubs, and you oblige.
>She’s gonna need diapers soon. You managed to get a pack before when she was asleep, but you don’t wanna leave her alone after that.
>You’re gonna have to take her.
>But you don’t wanna think about what the towns people are gonna think if they knew you had a baby.
>No doubt they’ll think you’ve kidnapped her or something.
>Plenty of stories about you.
>That reminds you. Gonna need to come up with a boogey man to scare your daughter, since you can’t use yourself.
>It’s late midday according to the clock. You couldn’t tell, the sun and moon are on or off in this place.
>You might as well get a move on.
>You put Melody down on the couch.
“Daddy will be right back, just stay here OK?”
>She’s a good girl, and has started to learn to stay put when you go somewhere.
>But you still don’t leave her for long.
>Quickly you get some outdoorsworthy clothes on.
>Nothing special, nothing is gonna win the ponies hearts at this point, but you still make the effort.
>Not that it matters, you grab your cloak with hood.
>You were told some of your features scare children.
>And finally, you grab a bag of money.
>Ponies aren’t above hiring you for odd jobs that your height and strength advantage, and sometimes fingers help with.
>Besides, your labor costs less.
>Credit where credit’s due. They gave you a free house.
>Granted it was run down and you spent months fixing it up, but it was a house none the less.
>God how long has it been? In a bustling town, with no soul to talk to.
>Sometimes months without talking to a single person.
>You put your thoughts aside, and walk back down the stairs.
>Your little angel is standing on the couch waiting for you to return.
>”Da, da!”
>She excitedly smiles at you, and you return the smile.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, princess.”
>You gently pick her up, and place her inside your cloak, her head pokes out, and she sits on the arm that’s draped across your body to hold the cloak in place.
>The worn brooch you picked up at the pony equivalent of goodwill wasn’t made for someone of your stature.
>You check your cloak and put your hood on.
>You check yourself out with the mirror before your door.
>Your little girl snuggles into your chest, barely visible, but happily babbling.
>Probably for the better.
>As for you. Building muscle is harder in Equestria because of a lack of easy proteins.
>Still your hard work is paying off.
>You’re a broad tall shape in a cloak. With the hood, everything above your nose is invisible.
>Someone must think you’re cool.
>Regardless, you eye your little girl leaning her head on your chest, she’s not saying much, but you can tell she’s happy.
>You step outside. the fall air is cool.
>Some Pegasus fly overhead eyeing you. They think you can’t see them with your hood.
>You lock your door, an uncommon practice you learned recently.
>You walk down your porch and to the sidewalk. Every time you do this there’s an audience staring at you.
>There’s eyes everywhere, in the clouds, trees, on porches, paths, windows.
>All eyes on you, pretending poorly that they’re not.
>You ignore them and slowly walk towards the town square, where most of the shops are.
>There’s a small bridge before town square, over a small river. A pony drawn cart is stuck between a gap in the planks.
>The pony struggles to get it free, mumbling child friendly profanity.
>Your first step on the bridge makes it creak loudly. The mare snaps to you, and you can see fear in her eyes.
>You’re not sure what makes you terrifying, but the mare is trembling.
>”S-sorry, stupid thing g-got stuck is all. He...he... n-nice weather r-right?”
>Without a word, you walk up to the cart, and lift it’s stuck side with a hand.
>The mare’s eyes widen, but she understands and steps forward.
>You let the cart down after it clears the gap, and the mare quickly gets off the bridge, looking like she just narrowly survived.
>Just at the outskirts of the town square, ponies give you a wide berth as you walk.
>A stallion with a child quickly cross to the other sidewalk when you approach.
>You can see the store you need to go to “Foals forever”.
>You’re not looking forward to going into the store, but you have no choice.
>Just a few steps away...
>”Hey! Anon!”
>You stop. You know that voice.
--------------------------------------------------------
>”Anon! I heard you were outside.”
>You turn around on the spot, and the purple mare stands a safe distance away.
>She looks nervous, but she always does as far as you know.
>”Anon, I need to talk to you about your friendship reports.”
>She holds up those ridiculous reports she makes you do every month.
>You used to take them as a joke, but for a while, you’ve filled them in honestly.
>You don’t know why. Maybe because it’s one of the few things you can talk to anymore.
>”You should have made an average of 4.35 –rounded of course- friends between your last 15 reports”
>Wow, has it been that long?
>”Yet your reports say you have made zero friends consistently.”
>You want to tune out the mare, but she’s hard to ignore.
>”Anon! Are you taking these reports seriously? Do you need help making friends?”
>Oh do you ever.
>But not from her. Someone a little more aware.
>You pull an arm into your cloak and hold your sweetheart steady while you adjust yourself.
>The little darling fell asleep leaning on daddy’s chest.
>Her tiny body rises and falls rythmatically against you.
>You gently rub her soft fur and she takes a deeper breath and claws a hoof at your hand.
>Grabbing a hold of your hand, she pulls it in.
>You let her take it, she’ll have to let go eventually, but for now, you know how much she likes daddy’s hands.
>”I’m telling you there’s something weird about him Twilight.”
>You almost forgot about the ponies. Almost.
>”He’s just smiling, he’s so weird... And I swear I’ve seen him walk into the Everfree forest all alone.”
>The pink one speaks to the other two, Ponka you think her name is.
>”Why does he go into forest?”
>The Rainbow one always looks especially scared of you, she’s furthest away, her eyes are locked on you.
>Like you’re gonna charge her any minute now.
>”Obviously to do evil things! Look at him, nopony even remembers what color his eyes are!”
>Huh, have you been wearing that cloak that long?
>”Aww c’mon pinkie, I remember him. He isn’t so bad. Can’t you throw him a party or something?”
>”Nope, nuh uh. I’m sure he’s alright, but he’d scare the guests away.”
>You want to say something; you want to make it awkward for them.
>Maybe a few weeks ago you would have.
>But you know it’s better not to.
>Twilight turns back to you.
>You can’t say for sure, you’re not a mind reader.
>But you think you can see sympathy in her eyes.
>”S-sorry about that Anon, just talking about where to find you a friend, ha.. ha..”
>You haven’t said anything so far.
>Not that you have anything to say. Talking to Twilight it just tiresome.
>She’s like a clipboard person at your old job, always making plans but nothing ever got done if it was up to them.
>Besides, you have to get diapers for Meme.
>”Well anyway. I’ll see you later Anon. Don’t worry! We’ll get you a friend. B-bye then.”
“Goodbye, Twilight.”
>It would be rude to say nothing at all, and that got her to smile, which is good enough for you.
>You can’t just accept being a demon, you’re a father now.
>The friends walk away-
>”Freak.”
>You move your head to face dash, and she knows it.
>She squeaks and flies off quickly.
>Now that that inconvenience is out of the way. You turn back around and walk to your intended destination.
>The store is like the baby aisle in any big box store.
>Or maybe baby R us, but you’ve never actually been in one.
>You gently remove your hand from your sweetheart’s clutch.
>You know she doesn’t like that, and you wish you didn’t have to.
>She gently sighs, and you feel her spread her wing a little.
>It doesn’t look like much outside your cloak.
>You push the door open with your now free arm, and enter the store.
>It’s not very big, but it has pretty much everything baby related.
>”Welcome- oh... C-can I help you?”
>The stallion at the counter quickly becomes reserved as soon as he sees your form ducking below the door.
“No, Thank you.”
>You grab a basket, and walk to the aisle with diapers.
>Thankfully Equestria doesn’t have many brands, or you may have to spend longer than you need.
>You feel Melon move around, you look down your cloak.
>She’s managed to turn herself around.
>Her belly is pressed up on your chest and her hooves and wings are giving you a hug.
>It’s adorable to say the least.
>Her hug is warm in more ways than one.
>You have to get back to where you are, even if you don’t want to.
>You get a couple packs of diapers, better to just stock up.
>Walking to the next aisle as you eye some toys, you see a neat one.
>A wooden box with a little propeller sticking out the side, some levers in the middle and a crank opposite the prop.
>Turning the crank turns the propeller, and the levers change gears it seems to change the speed.
>You don’t know if she’ll find it interesting, but you sure do.
>None of the other toys tickles your fancy like this one.
>You put it in the basket along with the diapers.
>Eyeing some little clothes, you walk over to that part of the shop.
>There’s all sorts of cute dresses, and accessories.
>You eye them all trying to imagine little Meme in them.
>There’s a little red bow that really catches your eye.
>You want to buy it, but it’s supposed to be just ribbon you tie yourself.
>There’s no pre tied ones, as you scan across the shelves.
>You realize you’ve been standing here for a while.
>So this is what baby shopping is like.
>You decide it’s time you leave.
>Especially with Melon rubbing her cheek on your chest, her way of telling you she’s about to wake up.
>You carry your basket to the counter, where the stallion nervously eyes you.
>You’re kinda glad it’s this dude, instead of the mare, he doesn’t ask questions.
>”Th-that’ll be 37 bits.”
>He tries to give you a smile and bags your goods.
>You reach into your pocket, and count your bits.
>Bits have gems of different cut embossed on them, which means each value feels different.
>Smart
>You can easily count out how many you need without needing to pull them out.
>Though come to think of it, that might be happy coincidence since ponies don’t have fingers and they all count bits by eye.
>You place exact change on the counter and the stallion quickly counts them before giving you your bag.
“Thanks.”
>”Thank you. S-sir.”
>No come again?
>”C-come again.”
>There it is. Albeit quiet.
>You return to the streets, which quickly clear up at first sight of you.
>You don’t need to get groceries, you’re stocked up on most things, and your garden did well.
>Doesn’t look like you can buy anything right now anyway.
>Everyone eyes you like a lost beast walking by.
>You try your best to ignore it.
>The walk is more of the same, boring path and fearful eyes.
>You feel melon stir and hear her cute yawn.
>It doesn’t matter what the other ponies think anymore.
>You have your own little pony.
>You continue walking towards your home, which isn’t far anymore.
>Little Meme yawns and stretches her little hooves and wings.
>”Da da?”
>She looks around then up into your waiting eyes, and you look down into hers.
“Morning, Princess.”
>You speak quietly, but you know she can hear you.
>She’s still a little sleepy, and slowly raises her hooves towards you.
>She wants you to cradle her.
>You’re almost to your porch, but you can’t pick her up yet.
>You raise the arm she’s sitting on, and kiss her on little forehead.
>She babbles happily and sleepily lays her head on your chest.
>You reach your door, and put the bag down to open your door.
>With the door open, you bring the bag inside and kick the door closed, and lock it.
>Your house feels a lot homelier now.
>You take off your cloak, and hold your darling who’s now fully awake in both hands.
>”Da da!”
>Forgetting the bag at the door, you sit down on your fireplace couch.
>You let her down on your lap, supporting her front hooves with her
>She looks into your eyes with glacier melting warmth.
>You brush some of her hair aside.
>Somewhat regret not getting that bow tie now.
>Putting that thought aside you pull closer to her and kiss her on the cheek.
>She giggles and turns her head pushing yours aside.
>Then she kinda puckers her lips and puts them on your cheek.
>”Oowa!”
>That kiss is worth the world to you.
“Are you hungry, Princess?”
>Obviously she is. You know when she likes to eat by now.
“Let’s get something to eat then.”
>You cradle her and carry her off to the kitchen.
>She babbles and mumbles a story while you work. You wouldn’t miss it for the world.
--------------------------------------------------------
>It’s getting late. Your market run took longer than you’d thought.
>And after dinner, it’s almost time for the sun to go down.
>That thing is weird, just slides down, a sunset fast-forwarded.
>Maybe long enough, and the old slow sunset will seem weird.
>It’s been a lazy day for little Meme.
>She probably didn’t sleep well enough on your chest, and is still sleepy.
>She’s playing with your old keys.
>Most of the keys are completely useless here. But she’s mesmerised by them.
>Surprisingly she’s not putting them in her mouth, like you thought a baby would.
>She just presses the button on your car FOB which flashes little blue LEDs, and she’s hypnotized by them.
>Living alone has made you quiet.
>You should talk to her more, gotta teach her words.
>But course, what do you talk to her about? She’s a baby, you don’t know how to talk to her.
>What do you say to a baby? Maybe you should just tell her what those things are.
>That’s how sesame street did it, right?
“Meme. What is that?”
>That’s stupid of you, what are you doing?
>”Da da!”
>She looks up at you, and starts babbling on and waving the keys at you.
>It’s like she’s trying to tell you about the keys.
>Her innocent blue eyes full of curiosity for seemingly mundane things.
>You sit down next to her, she quiets and looks at you.
“Those are keys.”
>You say it slowly and reach out to hold the biggest key in the bunch, your Toyota’s ignition key.
>It’s big and shiny it should catch her eye.
“Key.”
>You repeat, and she looks at what your holding.
>She turns her head, and opens her mouth a few time like she’s gonna say something.
>You repeat ‘Key’ a few more times, and bring the Toyota key closer to her eyes.
>She babbles but manages to make some K like noises.
>You’d never think something so silly could be so fun.
>You can see her eyes moving from the key in your hand to the FOB to you.
>She reaches out and touches the key your holding.
>”Kaah!”
>You laugh at her adorable attempt, and she laughs seeing you laugh.
>You stroke her soft cheek, and she extends her wings, and uses her hooves to hold your hand.
>You take the bunch and separate the Toyota key, having to remove a few others including the FOB, then put it in front of her.
>She struggles to pick it up off the rug, so you pick it up for her and hold it in your hand.
“Keeeeey”
>You repeat, extending the end to make her understand.
>You get closer to her and say eeeeeeee with your teeth showing and mouth open.
>She starts laughing and gently hits your nose with her hoof.
>”Eeeeeeeeeeeeee!”
>She copies your action.
>Then she giggles and looks at the key again.
>”Kka... aaa, eeeh.”
>You feel like she’s trying, she’s thinking. Maybe.
>You don’t know, it doesn’t matter.
>She’s smiling and you’re smiling.
>That’s all that matters.
>”Ka-eeeeeeeeeee, da da?”
>And now she’s got you tearing up.
“Yes, there you go. Key!.”
>You can’t help yourself but to gently kiss her on her cheek.
>She giggles and hugs you the best she knows how.
>To think, of all things, a little filly makes a grown man cry.
>You get a hold of yourself and move back.
>You remove some more keys from the bunch, your old house keys, garage door, bike lock, all different looking.
>You neatly lay them in a row.
>You point at them and repeat:
“Keys.”
>She looks at all of them, and then she points at the Toyota key.
>”Keeeeeeee!”
>Looks like she’s learned that the Toyota key is a key.
>Whatever you’re doing is working, but now you have to teach her all the keys.
>You hide the Toyota key and pick up the remaining keys, and repeat.
“Key.”
>She looks at all of them then at you.
>Then she giggles and point at where you hid the Toyota key.
>”Keeeeeeee!”
>Even if your not sure how much your heart can take, this isn’t working, she still only accepts the Toyota key as a key.
>You need her to relate the keys.
>You pick up the second biggest key in the bunch.
>Old garage key, solid metal like the Toyota, but gold.
>Laying the key on top of the Toyota key, you present it to her again.
“Key.”
>You’re not sure, but something clicks in her head.
>You compare the keys to each other, laying them over each other and holding them in different ways.
>You hold each key in a different hand and repeat.
“Key!”
>She uses her hooves to sandwich the Toyota key but doesn’t take it from you.
>”Keeeeee!”
>You think she’s still not getting it, but then she lets go and does the same to the garage key.
>”Keeeeee!”
“YES! Yes!”
>You kiss her again. There’s something inside you that feels so warm.
>It’s like the feeling of taking your cold winter gear in a warm room.
>You’re excited, not wanting to stop, you pick up the next most similar key.
>The house key. And compare it to the garage door key.
>In to time at all, she understands that too.
>”Keee!”
>She proudly proclaims at the house key.
>Then without prompt from you, she points at the bike key which looks nothing like the others.
>A plastic case covering a tiny bit of protruding metal.
>”Keeee!”
>She loudly and proudly exclaims.
>You’ve never felt so proud of anything before.
>You immediately pick her up and hold her up to your face.
>Between your kisses you don’t realize your crying.
>But it’s good tears. Proud tears.
>She looks a little worried by you crying, she rubs a hoof on a tear streaming down your cheek.
>Mumbling she wraps her wings around your head as best she can with her tiny wings.
>”Da da...”
>She softly says.
“Don’t worry princess. I’m not sad.”
>You kiss her on the cheek, and run your hand down her soft head and silk hair.
>Pulling yourself together once again, you put her back down.
>You get to putting the keys back on the chain, since you didn’t realize how late it’s gotten.
>The sun is long gone, but the bright magic lamps ponies use work as good as lightbulbs.
>Meme gets up and trots over to where you’re struggling to put the key back.
>She points at one of the key’s in the bunch and repeats:
>”Keee.”
>She looks up at you, like you know everything.
>You smile at her, and nod.
“Yes, Meme. Key.”
>She then points at another key that looks different and does the same.
>”Keee.”
>You reply the same.
>Then she hovers over your key FOB, and presses a button.
>When the light flash up she picks it up, and brings it closer to you.
>”Keeee!?”
>She asks you quizzing.
>That’s not a key, you know that. And you know she knows that.
>But how do you tell a baby Frequency Operated Button?
>You think about it for a few seconds.
>And then you tell her:
“Button.”
>She doesn’t understand.
>You repeat a few times, and try your best to explain to her the difference between a key and a button.
>But she lets you know it’s getting late with a big adorable yawn.
“We’ll pick up tomorrow, Princess.”
>You hold your hand out and she puts the FOB in your hand.
>Then she trots over and finds herself a place on your lap.
>”Da da.”
>She closes her eyes and turns over.
>Somehow, you quickly reassemble the key chain, and rub her belly.
>It’s her bed time.
>---
>Sometime in the night.
>You feel a soft ball of warm fur feeling and climbing it’s way.
>She stops at your head and rubs herself on your face.
>Then she sleepily laughs and mumbles.
>She lifts herself and puts her front hooves on the side of your head.
>She raises herself and lays her head on your face.
>”Da da.”
>She sleepily says and gives you a kiss. Or rather her version of one.
>Then she babbles and mumbles sleepily laying on your head.
“Little Meme, why are you awake?”
>She answers like she always does, with her babbling, and nuzzles your face.
>She gently pokes your cheek with hoof, and keeps babbling to herself.
>You don’t know how long she does this for. But you wouldn’t want that time back no matter what.
>Eventually, she tires herself out, and falls asleep on your face.
>You feel her soft breathing on your cheek.
>Her gentle warm body rising and falling is the most relaxing feeling.
>Her gentle breathing the most relaxing sound.
>You close your eyes, focusing on your little angel.
>Forget the world, it’s just you two.
>Forever.
--------------------------------------------------------
>You’re probably gonna have to buy more diapers soon.
>Though Meme’s beginning to get potty trained.
>Still not talking properly yet.
>Worries you, but it’s probably fine.
>Hopefully.
>”Dada! Kee!?”
>Oh and she’s in love with your keys. She won’t pay attention to any of the other toys.
>Rattles bored her, dolls mean nothing, other stuff in the little fillies section didn’t even get a second look from her.
“What do you want Meme?”
>She flies up from the floor to your lap.
>Yea, she learned to do that.
>If walking almost gave you a heart attack, you’re not sure how long you’ll survive this.
>”Dada! Kee!?”
>She stands up on your lap with her for hooves supporting her on your chest.
>She presses her face up into yours, looking up with bright sky blue eyes.
“Melon want’s the keys?”
>”Ya! Kee! Buthn!”
>You smile at her baby talking; she’s gotten better at remembering words.
>You can see what parents meant by growing up fast.
>A month ago, she was barely the size of your hand.
>You run a hand over her head; she always presses her head up into your hand when you do that.
>”Dada!”
>She says excitedly, and backs her head to make you rub her again.
>She really loves your attention.
>You rub her head some more, and give her a kiss on the cheek.
“Meme? Will you give daddy a hug?”
>You’ve been working on getting her to understand your sentences.
>She seems to pick up the ‘hug’ and seems to understand that.
>So she excitedly wraps her tiny hooves and wings around you as much as she can.
>”Wuv Dada.”
>Your heart could barely handle when she learned to say those two words.
>You give her a hug back, and she does her cute babbling with actual words occasionally thrown in.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
>She holds you and keeps babbling into your ear.
>You should really get some help.
>You don’t know anything about kids, much less alien pony kids.
>Or cute alien pony kids.
>Of course, who would help you?
>Ponies are out of the question.
>Maybe you can get a book from the library or something.
>You’ve noticed stallions are the ones who guard kids the most.
>If mares try to keep their distance from you, stallions stay away from you like you’re toxic.
>It’s like you have a bubble around you.
>Either way, from somewhere you’re gonna need help.
>*Knock*Knock*Knock*
>The series of knocks startle you and snap you two out of your nice moment.
>Someone’s at your door?
>That’s a once in a blue moon occurrence.
>Not even the kids wanna Nicky your door, so you know it’s serious.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you play with daddy’s key’s over there.”
>You reach into your pocket and give her your keys.
>”Kee!”
>You stand up from your chair, and put her down where you can see her from the door, but hopefully whoever’s at the door can’t see her.
>And you hope she doesn’t move.
>You grab your cloak, just in case.
>In case of what? Don’t know. Just in case.
>You walk to the door, and gently creek the old wooden door open.
>”Hiya, Anon!”
>At your doorstep is a very excited Pink Pony, and of course Twilight.
>You also see Rainbow Dash in a cloud.
“Hello, Ponka?”
>She looks annoyed, but not seriously. Just playfully.
>”PIIINKIEEEE!”
>Twilight half laughs and rolls her eyes at Pinkie correcting you.
>Twilight and her 5 friends are your only contact for if you need something done.
>Well, practically, maybe 2 are actually useful to get stuff done.
>One is deathly afraid of you, one just avoids you without reason, one tells you to stay away from the animals and one is, Pinkie...
>Only Applejack is useful to you, since she gets you work, and Twilight does help from time to time.
“My bad, Pinkie. What do you need?”
>”Well Anon, we were thinking, since you arrived we’ve never invited you to nightmare night!”
>Come to think of it, they haven’t invited you to anything.
>”O-oversight of course! W-we wheren’t avoiding you or anything.”
>She changed her tune pretty fast. It doesn’t really matter.
>You were about to decline, but.
>You’ve been thinking of taking Meme to a park or something.
>But it would be no less than a town wide emergency if you suddenly appeared with a small filly.
>Even if you don’t like it.
>And if the ponies don’t like you.
>Maybe, just maybe, you should try and fit in.
>You’ll always stick out, but maybe you should at least be accepted if not liked.
>”Anyway, Nonny!-“
“Anonymous.”
>She playfully eyes you and smiles.
>Baby steps.
>”Anyway, Anonymous. We thought, that since ponies might be afraid of you-“
>”Pinkie!”
>Twilight nudges her friend to catch her slip.
>”N-no offense of course.”
>”Pinkie!”
>She nudges her again.
>”I-I mean! Most of us don’t know what you look like, but you’re big and big is scary right-“
“PINKIE!”
>Ok, this is kinda funny.
>”Scary in a good way! Scary is cool! Scary is hot!”
>”PINKIE!”
>You want to laugh, but the quiet character has grown on you too well.
>”WILL YOU COME TO THE NIGHTMARE NIGHT PARTY AT SUGAR CUBE CORNER!?”
>Nightmare night is what ponies call Halloween.
>The two mares look at you smiling awkwardly, both looking like they’ve fucked up.
“I don’t know. What do I need to bring?”
>”W-well a costume is customary, but not necessary.”
>The purple mare pipes up.
>”Yea! A scary costume is ideal! Or silly! Or cool! Or whatever!”
>Pinkie seems to be too excited for her own good.
“Would this just work?”
>You know it wouldn’t, but Twilight can see it’s your long winded way to say no.
>”Well it’s scary, Dashy thinks so anyway, but it’s kinda your normal wear.”
“Time?”
>”6pm sharp!”
>You pause for a minute.
>Maybe, maybe you should go.
>But you have to take care of Meme, and besides. You have your doubts about this just them being nice.
“I don’t know.”
>Twilight gives you a sympathetic but defeated smile.
>”So is that a maybe?!”
>Pinkie doesn’t get it as easy.
>You would want to go to the party, but you know what it will be like.
>You’ll stand around alone in a corner, while ponies mingle and such.
>Not only that, you can’t take little Meme.
>You’ll have to tell ponies about her first.
“I don’t know.”
>A nicer way of saying no.
>”So... Maybe?!”
>”C’mon Pinkie. Thanks for your time Anon.”
>You kinda feel bad; she really looks let down. Her ears are slumped down, but it’s for the best.
>Twilight starts walking away and Pinkie slumps down at the bottom of your steps.
>You watch the mares walk away.
>Just as your about to close the door, a pink little hoof sticks into the door frame.
>”Hey Anon.”
>Pinkie is back at your doorstep Twilight is some ways away looking back and Rainbow is trying to call her over.
>You look down and focus on her, and she knows you’re listening.
>She speaks softer than she normally does. And seams a little bit more unsure than usually.
>”I know ponies haven’t been very nice to you, and I know you’ve been feeling pretty down.”
>Fucking bitch, she’s gonna try and butter you up to attend the party.
>Why? What’s she get from this?
>Is the idea to have a scary Halloween or Nightmare night or whatever party, so let’s invite the freak to scare the guests?
>She’s the organizer, she’s got to have some stake in this.
“Do you Pinkie?”
>You harshly but calmly ask the pink mare.
>You’re not letting people see you mad. You have no emotions outside.
>The Pink mare breaths sharply and slumps down.
>You’re about to say more, but you opt to close the door instead.
>As you’re about to do it.
>”No. I guess I don’t.”
>She honestly looks sad.
>She’s not the fun little ball of cotton candy you normally see.
>Look what you did, Anon.
>A better person wouldn’t lose it that easily.
>You don’t even know why you felt so mad. Maybe it’s just bottled up anger you feel when something as simple as asking for directions is hard to do.
>But she didn’t deserve that.
>Pinkie. And Twilight are one of the few ponies who’ve treated you half way like a person.
>You should have some more decency than this.
>Besides your dad always told you to be decent even if someone wasn’t.
>Don’t kiss ass, but don’t be sour.
>”I-I didn’t come back to convince you... I-I...”
>She trails off, but you can see she’s hurt.
>She breaths in for some courage you think.
>”Even if he spreads this to his colt friends, you have to say it pinkie.”
>She whispers to herself thinking you didn’t hear.
>”But what if he’s like him?”
>At first you thought she’s talking to you. But no her eyes are closed.
>It’s like she’s arguing with another Pinkie.
>Like she’s talking in a mirror.
>”Doesn’t matter you silly filly. You have to say something.”
>She stamps her hood eyes closed.
>Then she takes a deep breath, and opens her eyes.
>Your shoes greet her, and she talks to them.
>”Sorry.”
>It’s like you sucked all the happiness out of her.
>You should say something.
>Say it’s OK.
>Look at you, how are you ever gonna raise a daughter like this.
>You’re just on the verge of saying something when:
>”F-for my part in everything. I-I made a pinkie promise that I would make everypony smile.”
>You see some little droplets falling on your front porch.
>Twilight is starting to walk over, and Rainbow Dash is eyeing you.
>”But I couldn’t make you smile. I’m sorry.”
>You think that’s all she could muster up and say.
>You have to say something.
>It would be wrong to not. You obviously lost your cool.
>Your conscience bites you just as she opens her mouth to say something else.
“Wrong.”
>Smooth...
>She looks up at you with tear-filled eyes.
>You give her the warmest smile you can muster.
>She smiles back and some new tears form at the corner of her eyes.
>Even if your cape hides most of you, you know she can see enough.
“I have a costume in mind, but I’ll need help.”
>She opens her mouth, and tears are streaming down her face.
>She can’t say anything, but she nods excitedly.
>Twilight walks over to talk to Pinkie, and Rainbow Dash cautiously lurks by the edge of your porch.
“I’ll see you all at the party then. And Ponka. Don’t be such a silly filly.”
>Yes that was cringe, but it had it’s effect. You managed to make Pinkie Smile.
>That’s all you where looking for.
>”Thank you, Anon. I’m sure it will be fun.”
>Twilight says and picks Pinkie up.
>Pinkie who can’t say a word stands up and walks away with her friends.
>Her walk isn’t the usual hop, but it’s Pinkie non the less.
>All but Dash walk away, Rainbow eyes you.
>You meet her eyes through your cloak and give her a smile.
>She jumps and gives you an awkward smile before flying off towards her friends.
>You close your door.
>Damn it.
>Either that Pinkie is a master at playing with emotions, or you’re just a big softie on the inside.
>Either way you better figure something out.
>You’ve agreed, and you’re a man of your word.
>You gotta go.
>Someone has to know about Meme.
>”Da da? Wak?”
>She flies in little hops over to you.
>She likes going outside. Someone told you Pegasi don’t like being indoors too much.
>Might as well, you’ve been cooped up for too long.
“Wanna go for a walk, sweetheart?”
>You bend down and ask her.
>”Ya! Wak!”
>She answers in her little baby ways, and jumps up with some power from her wings.
>She lands in your open arms.
>She’s learned to burrow in your cloak, even if you know she wants to stretch her wings.
>You give her a kiss, and head out on your normal walking path close to the Everfree.
>You’ve got a lot of thinking to do.
--------------------------------------------------------
>Running out of diapers is always a pain.
>You and Meme had to make an emergency run last night since you were on your last 4.
>You realized the cashiers at the place gives you dirty looks.
>To be fair most ponies give you looks; you’ve gotten used to it.
>On the plus side you found a toy you’d bought her a while back.
>Forgot all about it somehow.
>First toy besides your keys that Meme likes.
>”Dada! Go!”
>She’s pointing at a little metal fan on one end of the box.
>Her other little hoofsie is struggling to turn the lever on the opposite side, which makes the fan ‘go’.
“What is that Meme?”
>She babbles some sort of explanation of the fan.
>Or maybe just babbles. Then she puts a hoof in her mouth.
“I thought you were past putting that in your mouth.”
>”No.”
>She says very proudly and cutely.
“Little naughty filly.”
>Talking in baby talk, you press a finger on her nose, it makes her laugh.
>”Da da!”
>You learned she just says ‘Da da’ whenever she wants something.
>She points at the fan on the wooden toy.
“You know what that is?”
>”Uhhh... No?”
>She looks at it unsure and pokes it a few times with her hooves.
>She makes it spins and she moves it with her hooves.
>Then she starts mumbling about it ‘Go’ing.
>You watch her mind figure it out.
>You don’t know what she’s thinking, but she’s happily mumbling and making noises.
>Wonder what her cutie mark is gonna be, that’s something that’s worried you.
>It’s completely alien to you. What scares you most is if she has no cutie mark because of something you did?
>”Da da? Go?”
>She’s pointing at the fan and looking at you to explain it.
>She calls anything moving ‘Go’. A good start you think.
>But you know nothing about anything.
“Meme, this is a FAN.”
>You put emphasis on the word you want to teach her. That’s how she seems to learn.
>”Uhhh... Ann!”
“F-F-FAAAAN.”
>”AAAANN!”
>She giggles satisfied with herself, and you run a hand over her head.
“I guess it’s a start.”
>You try to turn the handle on the opposite end of the box.
>The handle is somewhat hard to turn but with a single turn the fan starts spinning very quickly.
>A thin metal fan like that at at least 300 rpms.
>Maybe this was not the best idea for a little filly...
>That thing spinning prop could take a finger off.
>Dangerous or not, she’s loving it.
>”Go go! Da da! Go!”
>You turn it slower, to make it slightly safer.
>What kind of toy is this?
>You see there’s a lever sticking a few inches out of the top, with a H pattern cut on top with 6 tracks the lever can go.
>It’s like a transmission?
>Why?
>You stop turning and Meme turns to look at you.
>”Da da, no go.”
“Watch this Meme.”
>You move the lever a few spaces up and into a slot, kind of like 3rd gear in a car.
>Turning the lever you notice it’s slower now.
>”Da da? Swow?”
>You didn’t expect her to pick up on that.
>It really is just a transmission model. but why?
>Meme moves over to the lever and while you keep turning it, she follows the cut line to what would be second gear.
>It takes her some effort, but the shifter or whatever manages to slip between some gears.
>The fan slows down even more.
>She’s mesmerized by the fan now.
>And you’re frankly mesmerized by her. And terrified by the spinning metal prop inches from her.
>It’s like when she learned how to fly.
>Her learning is wonderful.
>But the prospect of her getting hurt is terrifying.
>She changes the gears a few more times, she sees that in lower gears the fan spins slower.
>She turns back to make sure you’re turning the crank.
>”Da da, go?”
>She turns to you, and points to the strange contraption.
“Do you know what it is, Meme?”
>You obviously know she doesn’t know what it’s called.
>But she none the less gives you her babbling explanation.
>She has learned the words ‘fast’ and ‘slow’ and ‘go’ so you can see she understands that she understands the gears.
>You feel oddly proud of her.
>She pushes the machine into what would be 6th gear or maybe reverse and tries to turn the crank.
>It turns a little bit but then gets stuck.
>She tries to force it. And wiggles it around, but the fan won’t turn.
>”Da da. No go.”
>She complains to you, and starts babbling looking all around the plain looking box.
>You feel like she’s gonna be a smart cookie when she grows up.
>Good genetics, but you may have something to do with it.
>You try turning the crank.
>It’s truly jammed like something is stopping it.
>You turn it the other way and it turns a little before getting jammed again.
>”Huh?”
>She sees you doing that.
>She turns the crank handle back and forth.
>Then she changes the gears and turns the handle in reverse, and forward, and reverse again.
>You think she can feel more resistance changing direction in high gears.
>There’s a lot of backlash in these gears. They’re not very tightly fitting.
>Reminds you of a lot of the tools at your old job back home.
>Feels like forever ago, but this is like a memory of that sloppy south bend, or worn to fuck Kent.
>Wonder if you’ve rubbed off on her somehow.
>But that wouldn’t make sense.
>Would it?
“There’s a lot of backlash in these gears, huh Meme.”
>”Hah?!”
>You take the crank from her and move it back and forth, showing her how nothing happens until a noise of the gear tooth connecting.
“BAAACK. LASH.”
>”BAAA-ASH?”
>She tries to copy you the best she can, but ‘backlash’ isn’t an easy word.
>You two play around with the toy for a while longer.
>You have to admit it’s fun.
>She then goes back to the last gear that was stuck and tries to move it.
>Still stuck.
>”Da da. No go.”
>She points at it the offending gear.
“There’s interference in there.”
>”Intffrn...”
>You laugh at her adorable attempt at the hard word.
>You rub a finger on her cheek and she giggles.
“INTER-FEE-RANCE.”
>You space the complex word out.
>”Intffe.”
>You should stop before her adorable attempts kill you.
“Something is stopping the gear from moving inside.”
>Now you’re curios.
>You’ve never seen pony made gears. You haven’t seen much of pony anything in all honesty, but they don’t rely on tech as much as home.
>You pick the box up and look around.
>6 what look like screws hold the lid on a base that actually looks like solid wood.
“Look here, Meme.”
>You hold it up to her.
“Screws. This top part comes off and the bottom is one piece I think. Look at the grains.”
>You know you’re being silly trying to explain this to her.
>But it’s so nice being able to talk to someone, who doesn’t blow you off or try to one up you.
>And you know she’s listing.
>”Scroo?”
“Yea. Six screws.”
>You realize you’ve never taught her numbers.
>So you might as well start now.
“1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.”
>You point and count each screw.
>She clearly doesn’t really get it. But that’s fine.
“Wait here.”
>You get up and she goes back to messing around with the weird contraption.
>You find your tool box and find a few screwdrivers.
>Pony screws are like sockets.
>The screwdriver is the female part the screw heads goes into.
>You can see why they’d want to do that for manufacturing reasons.
>It also means the screws are harder to strip, but it means they can never be flush.
>But that’s just you being a nerd.
>You walk back to meme trying to use another toy to turn the handle.
>You smile.
>Looks like she’s learned the cheater bar. Only a matter of time before she learns the secret to using one is cursing.
>A lot.
>The handle remains stuck.
>You walk over to her with your tools.
“Sorry to keep you waiting princess.”
>You put most of the screwdrivers down.
>You pick the best looking size and jam it on.
“Now lets see what the problem is inside. OK?”
>”OK!”
>She responds excitedly.
>You start turning the screw.
>The wood isn’t particularly hard and the fastener loosens pretty easily.
>You don’t know anything about pony trees. Last time you asked where to buy lumber, the pony at the stall just asked ‘whas a colt need that for?’
>You didn’t pester her any more.
>You finish removing the first screw, removing it entirely from the wood.
>You wouldn’t normally do that, but you pass it off to Meme.
“Meme. One Screw.”
>You remove the most opposite faster to that, you were always taught to remove and install fasteners in a cross pattern.
>Don’t know if it really matters for most things that aren’t load bearing, but come god or princesses your daughter is gonna do the same.
>You make sure she sees you undoing the next fastener.
”Two, Two screws.”
>You hand it off to your little apprentice.
>You continue undoing the fasteners, and pass them off to her and count as you free each.
>You begin loosening the 6th and final fastener, and the top starts rotating.
>Placing it on the floor you put a hand on the top to keep it down.
>But then you think, maybe she should try.
“Meme, I’m gonna hold the top, can you take the last screw off?”
>”Scroo?”
>You hold the lid down and guide the screwdriver into her wing.
>Apparently, the driver is meant to be used with mouth, wing magic and even hooves.
>You don’t get how ponies can grab things with their hooves, Meme doesn’t have magic, and you’re little girl will have plenty of oily tools in her mouth when she’s older if this goes well.
>She seems to understand and takes a somewhat decent hold on the screwdriver.
>At least you think so, you have no idea how wings are supposed to hold things.
>”Scroo? Dada scroo?”
“Put the driver on the screw, Sweetheart.”
>You hold the box and use the other to guide the screwdriver in her wing to the top of the screw, until it seats.
“Good, now remember. Righty tighty, lefty loosy.”
>”Wighty?”
>You don’t think she knows directions yet.
>Damn it.
>You use the hand guiding her and help her turn the screw.
“Lefty, loosy.”
>”Weffty woosy?”
>You laugh at her baby words, but she figures out how to turn the screw herself.
“Yes my wittle baby. Wefty woosy.”
>You start talking to her in baby words, and she giggles while undoing the screw.
>”Wefty woosy!”
>She seems to be having fun.
>You’re happy you’ve found something she really likes doing.
>Maybe you should make her toys. It’s like there exists only one model of each type of toy in this place.
>Maybe it would be easier to find her toys she likes if you could take her out more comfortably.
>”Weffty woosy?!”
“That’s the last screw, Meme. Let’s see what’s inside this.”
>She puts the screw in a pile she made with the others, and you take the screwdriver from her and put it in your own pile.
>With the lid lose you try lift it up gently off it’s base.
>You remember there’s a lever in the way and you have to slip it past.
“Look, Meme. Gears.”
>”Huh!? Ears? Da da, go?”
“GEARS. Yes Meme, they go.”
>You push the lever into ‘first’ gear, and she’s immediately mesmerised.
“See the lever moves that center rod, and it meshes with the gears on the sides when you put it into a slot.”
>Obviously she doesn’t understand, at least not the words. Nevertheless, she looks hypnotised by the parts.
>You slowly crank the crank and the whole contraption comes to life.
>”Hah!”
>Meme gasps and you see a smile plastered on her face, as her eyes try to follow each little gear moving.
>You follow the mechanism as well.
>You may not have the excuse of being a little filly, but mechanisms are art.
“Look Meme. This crank turns this gear here.”
>You stop turning the crank and point to the gear it turns.
>Taking the lever out of gear, you turn the crank to show it turning.
“When this gear turns it meshes with these 2 rows on both sides, see?”
>You turn the crank to show the rows turning.
>”Go?”
>As you turn, she reaches in and presses on one of the rows with her hoof, stopping you from moving it.
>”No go!”
>She lets go and you go back to moving it.
>”Go!”
>She starts babbling, and reaches to your hand that’s turning to the crank.
>You move your hand away and she doesn’t grab it.
“What are you doing, Meme?”
>”Da da, go? Ahh? Eer, go?”
>You smile, even if you couldn’t even begin to divine what she’s saying.
>But she turns one of the rows of gears itself, and sees the crank turning.
>She’s piecing it together you think.
>Not even a year old but she’s learning fast.
“Let’s see why 6th gear won’t turn Meme.”
>You push the lever into 6th gear, and notice the rack on her side gets pushed towards the wall.
>Then when you try to turn the gear ‘teeth’ hit the wall, and can’t turn.
>”Da da, no go.”
>You’re surprised she picked up on that too.
>She pushes the gear rack away from the wall and the gear starts turning, as it should.
>Then she purposefully pushes it against the wall.
>You realize you have a big stupid smile on your face.
>There’s something about watching her learn and grow and play, and babble.
“So smart. Look at my little, Meme.”
>Lowering your head, you give her a kiss on the cheek.
>She giggles and shows you what she’s found.
>”Da da, go. No go.”
>She moves the rack back and forth showing you when it ‘go’ and when it ‘no go’.
>*KNOCK*KNOCK*KNOCK*KNOCK*
>Someone really wants you to answer the door.
“Meme, daddy’s just gonna go to the door, stay here OK?”
>”OK!”
>She answers excitedly, and goes back to messing around with the toy.
>You get up and get your cloak, before walking to the door.
>You should really drill a peephole in this damn thing.
>Peeking out the door, there’s a familiar pink pony bouncing on her hooves standing there.
>”HI ANON! WANNA GO GET COSTUMES!”
>You see her white pony friend and Rainbow Dash standing a distance away.
>It’s like they don’t even wanna be seen close to your house.
>Fine by you, less they’ll find out about Meme.
“Hello Pinkie. Sorry I’m a little busy right now.”
>You talk slowly as you normally do.
>But the pink pony doesn’t seem to be let down, and her huge smile holds.
>”That’s fine! We got you some costumes you can try!”
>She quickly dashes off your porch and comes back hauling a crate on her back.
>”Here let me help you get this inside!”
>Shit, she starts walking towards your door.
>You think and react as quickly as you can, grabbing the crate on her back.
“Thank you, Pinkie.”
>You lift the crate off the pony’s back.
“I will take care of this. Thank you again.”
>”A-are you sure?”
>She seems a little let down by you carrying the crate.
>You turn and place it next to your door, and turn back to the pony to answer.
>”DA DA!”
>Your eyes go wide and you’ve never been happier to wear a cloak.
>You pray to whoever that the pink pony didn’t hear-
>”AHHH! WAS THAT A BABY?!”
>Your heart is going mad, while she looks more excited than you’ve ever seen her.
>”You have a baby, Anon?!”
>She jumps up to eye level and asks this, you try to remain calm even if you’re panicking inside.
>You’re sure the whole town heard her.
“No, I do not have a Baby.”
>You try to answer as sternly as possible.
>You also pray to Meme that she won’t say anything again.
>”Aww, are you sure? I heard a baby.”
“Yes, I am sure.”
>”AH! Is it a secret baby?! Is it a little cutie wutie little thing!? Does it look like you!”
>She starts doing her thing and going on and on.
>Playing with a baby that isn’t there, pretending to squeeze it’s cheeks.
>You’re worried about Melon.
>You should never leave her alone.
>but what choice do you have?
>”Aww, I bet you’d be a good dad.”
>You want to take that compliment, but with what’s going on, you can’t.
>The mare also catches herself saying that, which is rare for her.
>”I-I mean, you look like you have strong forearms, could really grab and hold a back!”
>You have no idea what she’s doing anymore.
>Not that you care, you want her to hurry up and leave so you can check on Melon.
>”I-I MEAN! Grab and hold the backs of foals of course! Little cute foals!”
>She seems like she’s panicked a little.
>”Can I hold your baby?!”
>It’s like you could have said anything and you would still be here.
>She looks at you with baby eyes. Those are your weakness.
>Meme hasn’t said anything and you’re worried that she might actually need you.
>But you gotta get this cuckoo mare out of here.
“Pinkie. If I had a baby, you could hold it.”
>She seems to lighten up a little more.
“But.”
>She seems a little let down.
“I don’t have a baby. And I’m somewhat busy.”
>”Aww.”
“I appreciate you bringing me some costumes, Pinkie. Thank you, again.”
>She smiles at you.
>”No problem, Anon. SEE YA!”
>She says as she runs off your porch.
>You quickly close the door, toss your cloak and run to Meme.
>Your heart is in your throat as you call out.
“Sweet heart! Meme, Are you OK?”
>Thankfully, your little filly is happily sitting exactly where you left her.
>”Da da!”
>In her wing she has one of the gear racks from her toy.
>The floor littered with parts of her toy, and you dodge them as you come back and sit down next to her.
“You scared the sh- daylights out of me, Sweatheart.”
>You pick her up, and hold her close.
>She puts her head on your chest, and starts happily mumbling.
>You reach down and kiss her on the cheek.
>”Da da. Eer.”
>She offers you the gear rack that she’s taken off the toy.
“You managed to take it apart, all by yourself?”
>You ask her non seriously.
>She starts babbling and cutely trots off of you, to drag over the toy and show you inside.
>She pokes a little bit of broken wood where the rack would sit.
>”Da da! No go.”
>The wood normally supports the rack, but since it’s broken the rack abnormally twists to one side close to the wall.
>Your mind is still wandering on Pinkie and if she now knows, you have Meme.
>If she tells her friends, or anyone.
>Life is going to become much harder for you.
>You shake your head and focus back on the toy.
>You have a mare who comes first after all.
“Let’s see how this whole thing works, before we fix it, ok?”
>”Uh, Ok!”
>She probably has no idea what you just said, but you continue.
“See these gears; they’re less like gears and more like sprockets. The gears that are driving are all like wheels with studs on them, like sprocket teeth. And the driven gears are all female with holes.”
>You point out each part as you lecture her on it.
>Hopefully she’ll pick some of it up, but either way it’s nice to talk like this.
>These gears are neat, the driving gears are pegs around a cylinder and the driven gear is a hollow cylinder with holes at intervals.
>Very crude, but neat and they work.
“The crank is normally driving both racks on each side of the box. When you move the lever it meshes with one gear and it turns the fan.”
>She’s curiously eyeing all the parts.
“There’s an idler on this side for this rack. Without this, the fan would turn the wrong way. It also looks it provides some speed change, look the racks are the same.”
>You remove one male and one female gear and turn it in your hands.
“Here, Meme. This is how they mesh, see?”
>You give her the gears and she does what you were doing, only with wings.
>You go back to looking over the toy.
>The shaft the propeller is mounted on is actually a hollow brass tube, inside the final shaft that the lever control moves on.
>For whatever reason your mind goes back to thinking about Pinkie telling somepony about you having a baby.
>You look over at Meme, happily meshing gears in her hooves.
>You don’t know what you’d do if they came to take her away.
>Shaking that thought away you look back at the toy.
“See this shaft that the lever moves? It has a little T on it, see? It’s a ‘splined shaft’.”
>She tries to copy your word but once again simply can’t.
>You’d still call her adorable attempts a success.
>The wooden shaft goes into the brass one and like a splined shaft it turns the brass one which is in a bearing hole.
>The whole contraption is wood save for metal pins the 1 brass tube and the screws.
“Anyway, that’s all there is to it. Let’s see if we can fix what’s broken then.”
>Though your mind keeps wandering back to the worst things possible.
>You and her get to fixing the toy.
--------------------------------------------------------
>The weather of pony land will never grow on you.
>It’s fall, or whatever the ponies call it, but the weather is late summer if anything.
>Frankly you don’t know most basic stuff about this place, you know the day is 24 hours and the weeks are 7 days.
>But other than those coincidences, you don’t know if months even exist, or how many days in a year.
>You’re gonna need to start learning these things, it wasn’t that big of a deal when you were alone.
>”Da da! Blu!”
>You took her to the edge of the Everfree to stretch her wings.
>Pegasus or not, it’s probably bad for kids to be cooped up.
>And ponies don’t come to this place, Everfree forest seems to be a taboo place to be.
>You found a few old children’s books at a pony garage sale.
>Is it a garage sale if ponies don’t have garages?
>You tried to teach her from them, now she’s flying around pointing out different colors.
“Mark that off the list, blue flower.”
>”Fwower?”
>She has a baby lisp, but you’re sure it will go away soon. She’s learned a lot of new words.
“Yes sweetie, a flower.”
>She lands on your shoulder but she doesn’t have the balance to stay there and always falls forward in your waiting arms.
>She always does this. She thinks it’s hilarious, and laughs to herself.
>Looking up at you smiling and waving her hoof and giving a short:.
>”Hi.”
>Melts your heart.
“Hi, Meme. Tired?”
>She gives you a cute ‘mhmmmm’ and then presses herself into your chest.
>You should really invest in some way to tell the time, with the sun being on or off, it’s hard to tell if it’s getting late.
>Ponies seem to have some magical way of knowing what time it is.
>You’ve also seen some sundials.
>”Da da.”
>Meme pokes her head out of your cloak, and looks up at you.
“Yes, Meme?”
>”Wha da da color?”
>She speaks in her broken English, but you think she’s asking what color you like.
“What’s my favorite color?”
>”Favtt?”
“Color I like. Favorite.”
>You don’t think she gets it, maybe one of those books can help.
>But she happily bobs her head and says ‘ya’.
>You don’t really have a favorite color; they all seem to have their place.
>Maybe, you’re not an artist.
>But you have to give her an answer.
“My favorite color is whatever makes my little Meme look the prettiest.”
>That sounded better in your head.
>”Me? Pwetty?”
“Yes. My pretty little pony princess.”
>You sit down on a stump where you always sit.
>And your little princess stands up on your lap, and leans herself on you.
>”Me? No...”
>She looks up at you, and shakes her head.
>She’s so cute.
“You’re not my pretty princess?”
>”Me?”
“Yes you, my pony princess.”
>”No.”
>She answers adorably and shakes her head.
>Then she nuzzles herself into your neck.
“Yes.”
>You emulate how she talks, and nod your head at her.
>”No.”
>She responds and shakes her head rubbing it into your neck.
”Yes.”
>You reply.
>”Weawy? Pwetty?”
>She asks looking up at you with her head on your chest, partially hidden in your cloak.
“Yes. My pretty little pony princess.”
>She smiles and stands up before giving you a hug.
>”OK.”
>She says happily.
>”Da da pretty.”
>You feel warm when she says that and gives you a kiss on the cheek.
>You return her kiss, and peck her on her cheek as well, enticing a giggle from her.
“I love you, sweetheart.”
>You hug her, and run a hand through her hair.
>”I wuw you, da da.”
>She can probably feel your heart, and your eyes get moist and blurry.
>Then like a rude interruption, you notice the light goes dim.
>The sun quickly sinks down and the moon rises up and takes its place.
>Fucking pony days
>You didn’t realize it had gotten this late.
>You snuggle your little girl as you feel the air immediately gets cooler.
>Fucking pony weather.
>”Da da, wha’.”
>Meme pokes her head out of the cloak, and looks to the Moon pointing at it.
>You realize she’s never seen the Moon, at least not that you know.
“That, Meme? That’s the MOOON.”
>”Moooon?”
>She emulates your speech in her cute baby voice.
“Yes sweetie, Moon.”
>She stares at the bright white ball in the sky.
>”Moooon.”
>She says to herself, almost perfectly though she still has a bit of a baby lisp.
>You stand up, it’s probably time to start getting home, it’s probably very late.
>Maybe the sun goes down earlier in fall though, not entirely sure.
>You walk over the fields you came, there’s a very underused path.
>It looks like it used to be stone brick path, though most of it has overgrown.
>Still it’s clear enough that you can walk without stepping on grass and mud.
>”Da da, Moon pwetty.”
>You realize she hasn’t stopped looking at the moon.
“Yes sweetie, the moon is very pretty.”
>She’s mesmerized by the Moon. You must admit it’s a very pretty Moon.
>Back home, the light pollution usually drowns it out, unless you went out in the sticks and saw its full glory.
“You really like the Moon meme?”
>”Yah.”
>She answers somewhat softly, and nods.
“I like the Moon too. When I was small, my mom used to sing me a lullaby about the moon. Maybe I’ll sing that for you if I remember it.”
>You remember what it sounded like, but it’s been a long, long time.
>”Da, da Sin’!”
“Sing?”
>”Ya! Da da! Sin’!”
>You think of a song.
>It’s been so long, nothing comes to your mind.
>Your phone is long dead, and with it your last connection to home.
“I don’t know what to sing, Meme.”
>”Da da! Sin’!”
>She repeats her request.
>You try to think as hard as you can, and a faint guitar strum plays in your mind.
>So familiar, but it’s been so long.
>Melon looks up at you with those heart melting eyes.
>You begin humming what you think this song sounded like, trying to recall words.
>Meme listens patiently.
>You blink and take in those big blue eyes again.
>Without another thought you open your mouth:
“Walking out along the river, stopping by the pines. It’s nice for someone looking to be heard, by heart and mind.”
>You pause thinking you’ve forgotten the words
>But one look and the smile over Meme is all you need to go on.
“Lying on the needle floor, the city seems so far. Moving with your eyes and smiling words, told her you are.”
>You didn’t realize how therapeutic this could be.
“Sunday grace, one window brings the morning, and your words like dawn have opened up my eyes. I’ve been on a sleepy ride without much time for thinking.”
>You look at a happy Meme swaying her head to music only the two of you can hear.
“Till I spend one evening by your southeast city window side.”
>You don’t remember where you heard this song, but Memes eyes make you recall.
>The unkept path turned into town road some time ago.
>Few ponies out at this time.
>Memes sleepy eyes urge you to continue the song.
“Baby hair blowing in that Sunday morning air. Dreaming of another place in time. I wish we where there.”
>You almost stop, as you eye a pony couple dead in their tracks focusing on you.
>Ignoring them you carry on for Memes sake.
“And in your dreams you’re far away, but I’m right behind. Yknow it’s nice for someone looking to be heard, by heart and mind.”
>A few other ponies stop and look at you.
>You pay them no mind, as you step on your homes little path.
“Sunday grace, one window brings the morning, and your words like dawn have opened up my eyes. I’ve been on a sleepy ride without much time for thinking.”
>Reaching for your door, you see Meme fast asleep.
>Thinking of stopping, you may as well finish the song.
“Till I spend one evening by your southeast city window side.”
--------------------------------------------------------
>Scanning quickly through the next row of books, you eye another that could be useful.
>’Cooking for the new parents’
>Adding that to your little pile of books, you look for anything else that could be useful.
>You take note of your clock.
>It cost a pretty penny and it’s wind only lasts 12 hours, but it’s been useful for timing yourself.
>Meme is home alone, she’s gotten used to it you, even if you never will.
>She’s learned to quietly play with her toys or read a book while you’re away.
>But you don’t like it.
>You needed to come to the library for parenting advice.
>It wouldn’t be so bad if the library wasn’t also the crystal castle, home of Princess Twilight Sparkle.
>She’s going to give you a hard time about friendship reports or some garbage again.
>You quickly grab your haul and head towards the librarian.
>Some little dragon who hangs out with Twilight.
>You remember somethings about him at some point, but that was over a year ago, and you haven’t spoken much to the guy since.
>”As per the new rules. Everypony needs a library card before they can sign out books.”
>He doesn’t even look up and sounds like he’s already died of boredom.
>You don’t know what to say, so you just stare down at him.
>A good director can make this cool, you’re sure of it.
>He just barely moves his eyes up.
>”Oh hey, Anon.”
>Damn you feel bad, he remembers your name.
“Hello.”
>”Here just fill out these forms, I’ll ‘expedite’ your library card”
>He sounds a little less bored, and slides over a booklet of paper work.
>Every time you consider not hating Twilight, she does some shit like this.
>You quickly start scanning through and writing in the needed information.
>Name, gender, age, address other basic info on the first page.
>The pages only get weirder.
>Number of ponies personally known, number of friends.
>When it comes to intrusiveness, TSA, NSA, ATF, CIA whatever alphabet soup agency ain’t got shit on Twilight.
>”Oh hello Anon!”
>Speak of the fucking devil.
“Hi.”
>You almost groan.
>You shouldn’t do that. She’s almost sweet.
>”Don’t worry, I’m not going to pester you about friendship reports. For your information, the deadline for this months report has been extended to the first week of next month.”
>You continue filling out the paper work.
>”I hope you have chosen a costume for this Saturday.”
>Almost dropping your pen, your only thought is ‘SHIT’.
>You forgot about the party.
>You have no idea what to do for Meme, but you need to figure it out.
>And fast.
>”Pinkie’s making the party in your honor. She’s really excited about the ‘Anon welcome and Nightmare Night party’”
>You almost ignore her as your mind races to what you can do about Meme.
>Maybe you can hide her at the party.
>In what?
>Some sort of costume.
>”Hey what’s this thing?”
>You look at the purple dragon, holding up a braided tube and a book.
>It’s a Chinese finger trap.
>You’ll never forget that thing after what your coworkers did.
>You did get back at him with the same trap.
>And some JB weld.
>Fucking Chink bastard.
>What it was doing in a book about knot tying, you don’t know.
>”I’ve read about these! They’re a kind of restraining device!”
>The princess is too happy to talk about the weird toy.
>You continue filling your forms and thinking of Meme, while the two play with the toy.
>”How’s it work.”
>”I’m not sure. It’s just a tube, the book I recall only mentioned it in passing.”
>”Uh, Twi.”
>”Let me find that book.”
>”Uh oh, Twi!”
>”Surely there is some reference material on these.”
>”Twilight!”
>”What is it Spike?”
>Oh yea. Spike.
>”I’m stuck!”
>”What?! How!?”
>”I don’t know! Get it off! I’m Scared!”
>You look up at the commotion.
>Spike has a finger in each end of the trap.
>He’s trying to pull his finger out to no avail.
>Guy mustn’t be very strong; the traps are fairly easy to break.
>”Wait, stop moving! Let me just!”
>”That hurts!”
>You watch Twilight wrestle with the trap as a panicked Spike tries to avoid losing a finger.
>Shit’s pretty funny.
>You almost laugh, if it wasn’t for the paper work.
>Ignoring those two you get back to the forms.
>”Maybe we can try some heat.”
>”No! I chipped a scale!”
>”Well maybe we can cut it!”
>”I’m not letting you put anything sharp near my claw!”
>You place the quill and ink back where they where and finish the soul sucking paper work.
>You loudly straighten the stack on the desk, and Twilight and Spike both look over to you.
>Placing the stack in front of Spike, you reach a hand over to the trap.
>Using one hand you bring the dragons claws together, and hold the trap in place.
>He understands and moves his claws free of the trap.
>You hand the trap back to him.
>No need for a good director to make that cool.
>”Thanks Anon.”
>The dragon looks at the toy unsure, and puts it on his desk.
>”Here’s your temporary card. And your books.”
>He slides the stack of books with a piece of hard paper on top.
>The paper has a big ‘temporary library card’ written on it along with your name and a number.
“Thank you.”
>You lean over to pick up your books,
>”Hey Anon, what’s with the parenting books. You expecting?”
>Shit.
>You didn’t want to deal with this.
>”That’s rude Twi. You shouldn’t ask that unless you’re sure.”
>Saved by the purple dragon.
>Twilight goes a little red, and begins apologizing.
>You cut her off, packing up your books into your bag.
“Just for research.”
>As lame of an excuse that is the two seam to buy it.
>The three of you say your goodbyes and you begin your trek home.
>A cool fall day, even the pegasi have sweaters.
>Which reminds you to shop some sweaters for Meme.
>You still have to think about what to do for the party.
>Your finances are also looking grim. With Meme being a full time job, you haven’t had any time to go out and work.
>Lost in your thoughts, you step on your home path.
>Snapping out of it when you notice pink cotton candy trying to peep into your home.
>The windows made for your height coupled with your homes raised foundation makes it hard for the mare.
>She’s standing on 2 legs and just barely has eyes over your ledge.
>You quickly walk up behind her.
>You don’t know what she’s looking for, but hopefully she hasn’t seen Meme.
>You can see a little pink wing through the window, easy to miss unless you’re looking for it.
“Pinkie.”
>The mare jumps to almost your height.
>”Ah! Anon!”
>She looks up at you shocked.
>”I was just looking! For you! Of course! Who else could I possibly be looking for?!”
>She starts rambling on, clearly panicked.
>”I couldn’t possibly be looking for a little baby. No of course not! You don’t have one after all!”
>This would be adorable if you weren’t worried for Meme.
>Pinkie isn’t malicious or dangerous, at least you think.
>But she’s also about as subtle as a bomb. Maybe even a little less.
>You don’t want the cuckoo mare finding about Meme.
>”Besides you already told me you’d let me hold the baby if you had one, which you totally don’t. And I totally wasn’t looking for the baby you totally don’t have because you totally don’t have one!”
>She finishes her long rambling whatever that was, and gives you a huge unsure smile.
>She looks like a little kid who’s trying to seem innocent.
>You’re not even mad at her. She didn’t see Meme.
>Even if you are worried.
“How are you doing, Pinkie?”
>You ask her plainly, like you didn’t just catch her spying through your window.
>”I-I’m a-a ok, nonn- Anon.”
>If you didn’t have Meme waiting for you, you could do this all day.
“You know, where I’m from, it’s rude to look into someone’s home?”
>”Yea… S-sorry.”
>She slumps a little.
“Please don’t do it again.”
>She gives you a quiet ok, and a sheepish sorry.
>Damn this little pink pony, you can’t be mad at her.
>Even after their rudeness, they’re little ponies and your heart isn’t stone.
>You send her on her way, and go to your front door.
>Who knew raising a daughter in secret would be so stressful.
>Stress that fades away as soon as you open your door.
>”Dah dah!”
>Your little ball of joy quickly hops and flies to meet you.
>She hugs you with every ounce of being and buries her face into your chest.
>All the loneliness, hard work, isolation and stress.
>Worth it.
--------------------------------------------------------
>You run your hand over the warm mound of fur on your lap.
>She calmly breaths fast asleep.
>She went to sleep early, tuckered herself out playing with you.
>She must have missed you while you where at the library.
>Poor girl.
>You where trying to study a book on food for babies but some chatter outside has you distracted.
>The voices sound familiar, but you can’t make a word of it.
>You do know it’s Twilights friends, sounds like Applejack, Rainbow and Pinkie.
>You think about getting up to get a closer listen, but you don’t want to leave your sweetheart alone.
>The voices are circling your house.
>The inside of your house is dark save for the fireplace.
>Hopefully dark enough for your intruders to not intrude.
>You stand up and gently place meme on your cushy couch.
>Wrapping yourself in the cloak, you chase the ponies in circles around your house.
>”…Everypony likes a couple stallions goin’ at it.”
>”But he’s not a stallion! He’s dangerous. What sorta pony keeps their house this dark!?”
>”What y’all chicken?”
>”I’m no chicken! I’m just saying!”
>”I don’t think it’s right, AJ.”
>”What do ya mean? Everypony comes ‘round for a good ol tussle.”
>”I mean, it’s not right.”
>”An why not? Ah’ll it’s good bits, everypony’s happy. When’d ya become a party pooper?”
>”I still don’t think it’s right. Besides what if he gets hurt, he might have somepony to take care of!”
>”He lives alone!”
>”Y-yea, he does.”
>You’re not sure what they’re on about, but the conversation ends at your door.
>They’re going to ask you to do something, you can feel it in your gut.
>You beat the clip clop of hooves to your front door.
>Waiting with hand on the handle for a knock.
>The pony doesn’t disappoint.
>You open the door quickly after the series of knocks.
>Applejack stands on your porch, looking a little smug.
>You stand in your doorway, and she looks like she’s sizing you up.
>She’s never done that before. As far as you know.
>“Howdy Anon.”
>You see Pinkie looking like she’s hiding a little way in the shadow.
>Rainbow is not so covertly peaking from behind your wall.
“Hello Applejack. Pinkie.”
>You look at the hiding Dash, who freezes in place.
”Rainbow.”
>”Say, Anon. How’d ya like to do a job. Sort of a… different job, but it’ll be easy.”
>You focus back to the orange pony.
“What’s the job?”
>If it makes you money you’ll do anything.
>Well short of a crime.
>You do have a daughter to raise.
>”Just show up to the farm tomorrow, ‘round afternoon.”
>Pinkie looks concerned, she looks like she wants to say something.
>”Don’ worry, nothin illegal or nothing. Y’all won’t even need both forhooves, it’s easy 1000 bits.”
>The mare grins.
>”Whad’ya say?”
>You don’t know what the job is.
>But with all that’s going on, you could use the money.
>That and a thousand bits isn’t the chump change you usually work for.
“Alright.”
>The mare seems satisfied with the answer, and says her goodbyes before turning around.
>Pinkie looks at you with worry you’ve never seen from her.
>Whatever the deal, you’re gonna make it.
>For her.
--------------------------------------------------------
>This was a bad idea.
>If you didn’t need the money you wouldn’t have ever agreed in the first place.
>But that’s not your mistake.
>Your mistake was bringing Meme.
>You couldn’t leave her home, who would take care of her?
>But you feel anxious as you near sweet apple acres.
>Meme hugs you, it’s like she knows you’re not feeling right.
>She rubs her head over your heart.
>Maybe she really does know, or maybe anything she does is a welcome respite.
>The fall air is cool, even at this time, but the afternoon sun is almost as warm as your Meme.
>You cringe as you see the orange pony, carrying a barrel of cider.
>You’re not sure if it’s season yet, but the ponies only bring it out on special occasions if it’s not.
>As the farm nears you see other ponies appear.
>Lots of ponies in fact, your gut wrenches.
>You swallow a lump in your throat and try to covertly shuffle Meme into a more hidden position.
>She seems to love it, giggling and burying her face into ‘dada’.
>She continues shuffling carefree.
>As you approach the fence you almost yelp as Meme slips between the buttons in your shirt.
>She seems even happier now, like you two are just playing.
>”Howdy, Anon.”
>Distracted by Meme, the orange mare managed to sneak up on you.
>Meme quiets down as soon as she hears the mare.
“Hello, Applejack.”
>”Yer looking dandy, Anon. Ya wouldn’t be good to take that off would ya?”
>Now you’re concerned, you don’t like her voice.
>You never picked Applejack to be a bad person, but what the hell do you know.
“No, I’m afraid not.”
>You answer flatly.
>”Ahm just kidding. Applejack ain’t like that.”
>You don’t know what to think. Meme babbles something only you can hear.
>”Anyway, come on in. We’re almost ready to start.”
>Start what, you don’t know.
>But you enter anyway, and take your place behind Applejack.
>She leads you through her farm, throwing or receiving a word or two from some other ponies.
>The other ponies all being mares, coincidentally.
>Mares giving you looks you don’t like.
>”Yall’re gonna be in the barn, till it’s yer time.”
>You want to ask her ‘time for what?’ but you keep quiet.
>”Don’ worry, you’ll be in good company.”
>She opens the big barn door, and you’re met by a strange sight.
>A barn full of stallions.
>”See ya on the floor, sugarcube.”
>What have you gotten yourself into?
>Looks like the barn was converted to a studio of some sort.
>Or a dress room.
>The stallions are mingling among themselves.
>There are a few mares, two you recognise from the spa.
>You spot a set of benches at the back. completely unoccupied benches.
>You make a straight line through the center of the barn
>Ponies quickly get out of your way, standing to the side of your path.
>Each one eyes you with a look you’ve not seen before.
>A blue mare with white hair and ridiculous goggles stops dead in her path as she sees you.
>She raises her goggles and looks directly at you with skeevy eyes.
>You pass her without paying her any attention.
>Finally reaching the benches, you take a seat and take in all that is going on.
>Which is a lot.
>The spa ponies are painting dark grey lines on a brown stallion’s legs and body.
>You’re not sure what for, but the paint defines his muscles better.
>You notice the pony with the ridiculous glasses taking a picture of 2 stallions posing with bales of hay.
>You look around for any other pony you recognize.
>You see a thin gray stallion with purple glasses you recognize from some poster you used as kindling.
>He seems to eye every stallion there, shaking his head in disapproval at most.
>The only other pony you recognize is Big Mac. Applejacks brother.
>He sits relaxed while some other ponies talk around him.
>He sticks to his unreactive ways.
>You close your eyes and look down to see Meme squirming in your shirt.
>She looks up at you with happy eyes and babbles something.
>She puts a hoof in her mouth, and you smile at her.
>You stick a finger into your shirt and use it to hook her hoof away from her mouth.
>Then you gently tickle her belly with your finger, and she happily giggles.
>The barns commotion ensures only you’re blessed with her laughter.
>She grabs your finger with her hooves, and pulls it closer.
>You let her have your whole hand, and use all your fingers to rub her belly.
>She wraps her hooves around your hand and calls you ‘Da da’
>You eye a hoof step too close to you in your peripheral vision.
>It’s one of the spa ponies, the blue one with a brush in her mouth.
>The pink one quickly steps besides her holding a paint palette.
>You very slightly look up.
>The two of them scan you foot to head, sizing you up in tandem.
>They both step to opposite sides of you and do the same, then return to their original position.
>The pink one smirks at you, with half closed eyes, and then looks to her sister who meets her gaze.
>They nod at each other and trot away from you with the pink one eyeing you as they do.
>Thoroughly confused and mildly uncomfortable, you shake your head and turn your attention back to Meme.
>Who has taken your entire arm captive.
>She’s wrapped your wrist in her soft wings.
>She uses her wings and a hoof to almost cradle your arm.
>Her other hoof rubs your arm, and she rubs her face on your palm.
>You see her mouth moving and hear some babbles but nothing you understand.
>You want to kiss her.
>Another hoof steps close to you.
>It’s that gray stallion from the poster.
>He’s wearing some kind of collar and what look like a cross between cuffs and shoes.
>He lifts his hoof, and with an air of superiority lowers his purple shades.
>He too sizes you up, slowly walking around you.
>Once he’s panned to one side, he has a satisfied smirk as he makes his way to your other side.
>He gets closer to you; you almost feel uncomfortable.
>”Finally, a good specimen.”
>His voice is pretentious. Upper class without a hint of shame.
>”You and I could be very good friends. Soon.”
>Fat chance you think.
>You don’t respond to him at all.
>”Hmm. You are something else, sweetheart.”
>He circles you, whispering to himself.
>You look down at Meme.
>She holds you with a strong grip, her ears and head moving to follow the stallion.
>You’ve never seen her like this.
>She looks upset almost.
>Protective.
>”I will find you, don’t you worry.”
>He almost steps into your hood.
>”I won’t let you get away.”
>He steps away and walks away with a very light upper class walk.
>Meme looks up at you, she looks worried.
>She babbles something and rubs her face on your hand.
>Maybe you’re reading too much into her, but it’s almost like she’s comforting you.
>Whether she’s trying or not, it’s working.
>Suddenly the commotion ends.
>All the rush stops, and you hear a muffled announcer outside.
>You can’t make any words out except:
>”…Fillies, put your hooves together…”
>You see two stallions walk through the side door of the barn.
>The crowd outside is loud.
>The mare voices are full of energy.
>Your little angel, calls to you.
>She babbles quietly, and holds your hand tighter.
>She wraps one wing around your chest, convincing you she’s trying to comfort you.
>The little darling.
>She climbs slightly up, still holding you tight.
>She starts humming a song you’ve sang to her.
>You started a while back on a walk, and your sweetheart loves it.
>She follows you, singing in babbles with a few real words seamlessly thrown in.
>But now, you follow her.
>She leads, babbling and humming.
>You forget the real world, losing yourself in hers.
>Her eyes are sugar and her voice honey.
>You hum along, quietly singing under her.
>The time travels differently for the two of you.
>Swaying heads, the world changes around you.
>”An wo we see,”
“And so we see,”
>”wun yu fi yu wah bah hum,”
“When you find your way back home,”
>”an tha mmmh be wun yu gee tha,”
“And that maybe when you get there,”
>”thaas ah luc aww evvv ree daw.”
“There’s a lock on every door.”
>”Nuu yu nu fffo se-tan,”
“Now you’ll know for certain,”
>”Wha tha bi wy wulds gud fffo.”
“What the big wide world’s good for.”
>”an tha bob juss no yur ncle,” 
“And that bob’s just not your uncle,”
>”Amymore.”
“Anymore.”
>The two of you hum together.
>You must look like a maniac if anyone is looking at you.
>Well, more than usual.
>Not that you care.
>You want to stay in your angel’s world, but a voice tears you out of it.
>”Hey, almost your time.”
>A light green stallion. He looks a lot like the spa ponies.
>You’ve never met him, but you’ve seen him around.
>”Did you hear me? If you’re feeling nervous, I think we have something.”
>He waits for a response, which you don’t give him.
>He looks away unsure to some pony, then he turns and walks away.
>You look around.
>Most of the ponies are gone.
>The spa ponies, and that guy are the only three working.
>The other remaining pony is Big Mac.
>He’s calmly sipping out of a tankard, looking at nothing in particular.
>His red coat has some lighter red highlights painted on, like the other stallions.
>But his coat is less marked than the others.
>Just a few lines.
>You’re distracted by the crowd outside.
>Big Mac puts his tankard on a nearby table and walks a slow confident walk down towards you.
>His eyes lock to your eyes through your hood.
>It’s like he sees right through your cloak.
>You look back, at his somewhat amused face.
>He passes you by, and walks out the side door and the remaining ponies follow, leaving just you and Meme.
>You still have no idea what’s going on.
>Applejack told you only need a foreleg, but not for what.
>You also don’t have forelegs.
>Meme is quiet. She looks like she’s thinking and listening.
>You listen with her.
>The ponies go crazy outside bursts of cheers, along with the muffled announcers.
>The crowd quiets down.
>You don’t know how long the silence lasts, but it feels like an eternity.
>”Now, contain yourselves ladies. We’ve got ourselves a new colt!”
>You
>Who else could she be talking about?
>Standing up, your body cracks after being seated for so long.
>Meme kisses your hand, and you smile down at her.
>”Show yourself Anon!”
>You walk to the side door as the others did.
>The fall air is refreshing after breathing in the stale barn air.
>There’s a fake tunnel they’ve built around the door.
>The pink spa mare turns the corner and stops in her path.
>She eyes you once more, head to toe and back.
>She looks a little more red than usual, as she looks up at you.
>Quickly she moves aside and waves you to go on.
>You step out of the tunnel on a hard dirt ground.
>The cheering crowd drowns out the announcer.
>A white fence funnels you forward to a larger fenced off area.
>You follow the path, paying no mind to the cheering mares around the fence.
>Though you see a familiar pink thing follow your path, as you walk slowly to the larger area.
>There’s a barrel in the center, with stools to either side of it.
>Big Mac is standing by the stool on the left.
>You don’t know what sport you’ve gotten yourself in.
>All you know is that you’ve got Meme looking up to you, and watching over you.
>You stop opposite of the red stallion.
>He turns to face you, and you do the same.
>”Whad’ya think ladies?!”
>The crowd cheers.
>Mac chews a straw, and looks uncaringly at you.
>You look back blankly.
>”Does he have what it takes to beat our Big Mac?!”
>The crowd boos.
>There are a few cheers tossed in, but they’re drowned out by the boos.
>”Doesn’t look good for ya, Anon.”
>Mac grins at you.
>”But we take good care of our colts, don’t we ladies?!”
>The crowd cheers.
>You keep up the blank stare.
>”Well take yer places, colts!”
>Mac sits on top his stool, he raises a forehoof.
>Placing his elbow on the barrel, his hoof in the air.
>It takes you a minute to understand.
>Arm-wrestling.
>You take your seat, it’s a little too low for you, but you adapt.
>As if on que, Meme lets go of your right arm.
>You extend the arm out of your cloak, and place it into position.
>The crowd cheers as you do this, and you hear some ‘ooohs’
>Mac reacts by moving his straw in his mouth to the other side.
>You slide your elbow in the correct place.
>The two of you meet in the middle.
>You wrap your hand around his hoof, and he wraps his hoof around your hand.
>A pair of orange hooves wraps both you and Mac.
>”Alright, ya’ll colts know what to do.”
>You focus on your opponent.
>Realizing you don’t feel too good.
>This just isn’t right.
>Right or not, it’s too late to do anything about.
>”Begin!”
>Applejack lets go of both of you, and immediately you feel force on your hand.
>You quickly counteract.
>Your forearm is as tense is as your opponent’s foreleg.
>Neither of you move anywhere away from the start.
>The crowd is as tense as your muscles.
>You feel sick.
>Your heart is pounding and you feel a sweat break.
>You mustn’t be the only one though.
>Sweat is pouring down Macs face, and his relaxed attitude is lost to a snarl.
>”A first ladies!”
>The announcer tries to egg the competition on.
>”3 minutes and Mac’s still fighting.”
>The crowd cheers.
>Is that how long it’s been? It felt like it’s been longer.
>Hearing this, Mac’s opens his mouth and grinds his teeth.
>You feel more force on your arm.
>That coupled with your churning gut, you give up a little ground.
>You resist it as best as you can.
>But your not mentally there.
>”Mac’s back ladies!”
>The crowd starts to chant:
>”BIG MAC!”
>You slip some more.
>”BIG MAC!”
>A bead of sweat blinds you.
>”BIG MAC!”
>The crowd drills into you.
>”Only 1 minute before it’s a draw!”
>He’s going to win.
>”DA DA!”
>Only you hear that cheer.
>But it’s the only one you need to hear.
>You can’t lose.
>You feel a sudden surge of strength in your arm, as you’re in a deadlock with your opponent again.
>Your fogged mind clears, and you grit your teeth as you take back lost ground.
>You’ve been losing since the day you came to equestria.
>You push the stallions hoof past the halfway point.
>”15 seconds!”
>Losing is all you’ve known.
>”10 Seconds!”
>You push the stallion further.
>”5 Seconds!”
>But you don’t care about winning this for yourself.
>”4!”
>You’ve already won.
>”3!”
>Your winning is next to your heart.
>”2!”
>It’s about not being a loser.
>Overcome with energy, the red stallion yelps as you smash his hoof into the barrel.
>For her.
>Putting a sizable crack in the wooden surface, ‘Mac’s been forced from his seat.
>The crowd and announcer are dead silent.
>Mac’s face is pure shock; his straw fell out on to the barrel.
>You offer mac a grin.
>”Yu mie fee wike yur ah winah”
“You might feel like you’re a winner.”
>”Ba yu nevev no fffo sho.”
“But you never know for sure.”
>”nuu tha bob juss no yur ncle,” 
“now that bob’s just not your uncle,”
>”Amymore.”
“Anymore.”
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