Pastebin launched a little side project called HostCabi.net, check it out ;-)Don't like ads? PRO users don't see any ads ;-)

Untitled1 sec ago
gst-ffmpeg-check1 sec ago
UntitledHTML | 2 sec ago
Untitled3 sec ago
Untitled5 sec ago
UntitledJava | 7 sec ago
Untitled11 sec ago
Untitled9 sec ago

Mad Science: Chapter 4

By: -IceMan- on Jan 15th, 2013 | syntax: None | size: 23.13 KB | hits: 355 | expires: Never

download | raw | embed | report abuse | print

Text below is selected. Please press Ctrl+C to copy to your clipboard. (⌘+C on Mac)

Mad Science
By IceMan
Chapter 4
>Light.
>Natural light.
>It burns.
>You manage to sit up in your bed to find Twilight’s little purple dragon thing sitting in front of you.
>What was his name again?
>Lance?
>Spike, that was it.
>“Oh good, you’re awake. Celestia, what did those two do to you last night?” Spike asks. “Twilight found you passed out on the floor! That must have been some night on the town.”
“It wasn’t,” you grunt.
>You manage to lug yourself out of bed and walk over to your dissolving potassium nitrate.
>“Do you want any breakfast or anything?” the dragon asks.
>You give no response.
>“Twilight’s going to be gone, by the way. She’s off doing errands for most of the day, and I’m probably going to head off with her.”
>You only grunt recognition of the statement.
>“Alright, so, yeah, just do whatever you do . . . .”
>Your head hurts slightly, but not enough to make you lose focus on the task at hand.
>A mild hangover will not stop you from doing what needs to be done, and will hopefully fade later today.
>The pot of water and bat droppings has turned milky white overnight with dissolved chemicals.
>You strain the liquid into a cauldron and set it over the flames of the basement fireplace.
>The cauldron soon begins to boil, sending droplets hissing into the fire.
>On the couch across from the fireplace, you sit with your fingertips pressed against each other, entranced by the flickering blaze and taking occasional peeks at the white residue collecting around the edges of the cauldron.
>Once the water evaporates completely, the fire extinguished, and the cauldron cooled, you scrape the sides with the dull edge of a knife for the precious potassium nitrate, collecting it at the bottom.
>You then go outside and check on the charcoal pyre.
>Digging away the dirt with a shovel, you notice that most of the wood has turned to charcoal.
>Excellent.
>You scoop as much of the blackened wood as you can into a pail and take it inside, then crush the chunks with a mallet.
>Rocket-grade gunpowder, if you remember correctly, is 60% saltpeter, 25% charcoal, and 15% sulfur.
>You grab a small beaker from Twilight’s laboratory cupboards.
>You are limited by the amount of saltpeter you have, but there is enough for a test batch.
>You add about a quarter of the amount of saltpeter in sulfur and a little less than half of the amount of saltpeter in charcoal.
>You stir the powder together with a glass stick, then take it outside, grabbing some matches from the cupboard and placing them in your pocket.
>Finding a clear patch of ground, you pour out a small pile of gunpowder, then lay a trail about a foot away so that you can jump back to safety once the powder is lit.
>You strike a match and drop it on the trail, which ignites in a plume of sparks and smoke, travelling towards the larger pile at the end.
>The spark ominously runs closer to the mound, which erupts in a small cloud of acrid, like the smell of rusting steel, opaque fumes as it is kindled.
>You smile a bit.
>Even better, your headache seems to have subsided.
>“Hi Anon!”
>You jump and whirl around to see who is speaking to you.
>The Cutie Mark Crusaders stand behind you, wearing three enormous grins.
“Oh, hello girls. Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
>“Sorry. Will ya help us –” Applebloom begins.
“Find your Cutie Marks? No, I’ve told you for the last three days that I don’t have any idea how to obtain a Cutie Mark in the first place, nor do I think that it’s a good idea to look for the meaning of your existence.”
>”But Twilight told us you’re some kind of scientist! Maybe our special talent is in science!” Sweetie Belle exclaims.
“Yes, I am a scientist. But, I have no instruments, no chemicals, nothing to do science with!”
>“Then what was that whoosh we just heard?” Scootaloo asks.
“Gunpowder. I need it to make fireworks, and I don’t have enough of it for any experimentation.”
>Sweetie Belle’s eyes suddenly flash.
>“If we get the ingredients for gunpowder, will you help us get our science Cutie Marks?”
>Gears begin turning in your head.
“Okay.”
>“Yay!” all three girls shout and begin running in circles around you.
“Alright, here’s what I need. First, I need more saltpeter. You can get it from dissolving bat guano in water, then boiling the water away. Just get me as much guano as you can. You’ll probably want to wear boots. “
>"Uh, what's guano?" Scootaloo asks.
"Bat poop."
>They look at you in disgust for a moment, but then return to grinning.
>“CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS SCIENTISTS!” they cheer, and run off laughing.
>That gets that out of the way.
>You refill the charcoal pit with wood, cover it with dirt, and set it ablaze.
>As you look upon your handiwork, you hear a pony trotting up the pathway.
“Hello, Rarity.”
>“Hello, Anonymous. There is something I’d like you to help me with,” she states.
“If it’s shopping, I’m afraid that I won’t be able to help you,” you say with a smirk on your face.
>”It’s not.”
“Then what is it?”
>“I often go out into the wilds to look for gems. I have a special little spell that allows me to seek them out quite easily. However, it is not very lady-like of me to pursue such crude tasks as digging. Normally, I have Spike help me out, but he is off doing something with Twilight today. Plus, I don’t like that he always tries to eat what we collect.”
“Hold on. How common are gemstones in Equestria?”
>“Fairly common, I guess. You can find them just below the surface in some places. Is this not the same back on Earth?”
>You furrow your brow.
“No. Gems on Earth are a precious commodity.”
>You pause and think for a moment.
“What exactly do you need gems for anyways? I thought you were a clothing designer.”
>“They add an extra bit of ‘pop’ to my designs,” she explains. “A lot of my wealthier patrons like a bit of extra style in their garments.”
“Well, I guess I don’t really have a choice either way. I owe you.”
>“I’d also like you to be my bodyguard. There are some nasty ruffians that frequent the gem fields.”
>You frown.
“I’m not quite sure if I would be able to do that job well. I am not the most . . . athletic human.”
“Oh, don’t worry Anonymous! You’re at least a foot taller than anything that might come after us out there. Just the sight of you will scare something off!”
>You’re not quite sure if you should be insulted by that last comment.
“Alright. Let’s go.”
>Heading west through town, the landscape changes from rolling grassy plains to rocky crags, pockmarked with caves at the foot of towering mountains like the stony legs of giants scraping the sky.
>You carry a shovel over your shoulder, while Rarity wheels a little red wagon behind her.
>Rarity breaks a stick off of a dead tree with her telekinetic magic, and, with another flash from her horn, begins scanning the ground with a ray of energy, illuminating the subterranean gems as she goes.
>She marks an X on the ground where the precious crystals are found, allowing you to dig into the dry earth with your shovel.
>A few scoops later, a hoard of various colored fist-sized gemstones sparkles before your eyes.
>So, these really just grow beneath the ground here.
>However, abundance decreases value.
>You tip them into the wagon and find another X to dig.
>Your muscles ache from the exertion of digging.
>Physical labor was never your skill.
>After twelve holes, Rarity calls, “I think that’s enough gems, Anonymous! This area looks cleared out.”
>You rub your sore arms and lean on your shovel, plunging the tip into the ground and breathing laboriously.
>A furry paw wraps around your body and begins to yank you backwards.
>You spin around to see who is attacking you.
>Three brutish, bipedal canines glare at you and bare their teeth.
>They reek of fetid meat and dirt.
>The first is thin and has a dark grey coat, the second has a pug-like face and a brown coat, and the third is tall and muscular with a light grey coat.
>A rusty wooden cart filled with gems sits behind them.
“Rarity, we’ve got trou – oof!”
>Your shout is cut off by a sharp punch to the jaw.
>The first dog pins you to the ground under his foot and knocks your shovel out of your hands.
>“Get the gems,” the first dog snarls. “Leave the creature and the mule, unless they get in our way.”
>The two other dogs lumber over to the wagon of sparkling stones.
“Rarity, use your magic!” you bellow.
>You are rewarded with a smack to the back of the head.
>She looks up from scanning a patch of ground and sees the two ruffians approaching her wagon.
>“Oh, hello Diamond Dogs. Are you going to take me back to your cave and make me work again?”
>“Not this time, mule,” the second dog growls.
>“This time, we just take your gems,” the third hisses.
>They shove her to the ground and take the wagon, then run back to their cart and pour the gems in and set your red wagon on top.
>The first dog releases you and jumps on top of the pile of gemstones.
>“Mush!” he orders to his men, and the wagon begins to roll off towards a nearby cave.
>“After them, Anonymous!” Rarity shouts to you, running to your side.
“Why? Can’t we just go dig somewhere else?”
>“No! Well, I mean we could but . . . those are my gems! And my wagon!”
>You don’t really want to dig more holes anyways.
>You pick your shovel up off the ground.
>It may make a suitable weapon.
>“I thought you’d be a better bodyguard then this!” she berates.
“As I told you, I am not very strong. My strength lies in my head, not my body, and I prefer it that way. And I could say the same for you!”
>“Magical attacks are not really my specialty,” she retorts.
“What were those things anyways?”
>“Diamond Dogs. They are thieves who steal gemstones.”
>You reach the dark cave mouth and notice the ruts of the wagon wheels tracked through the soft dirt.
“Can you illuminate the cave with your magic?” you ask.
>“I can try,” Rarity replies and ignites her horn.
>The a small sphere of light surrounds you as you follow the ruts.
>The tunnel widens up, and you enter a large round quarry, with narrow trails descending to the bottom, where more openings dig into the rock.
>You hear the echo of voices coming from the bottom of the pit.
>A few boxes of dynamite sit by the entrance.
>“So, what are we going to do with all these gems, boss?” the third Diamond Dog asks the first.
>“The same thing we always do, you imbecile! Take them to Los Pegasus and sell them to the black market!” the first barks.
>“Oh, right. Sorry,” the third apologizes.
>“Don’t be sorry! Just push the cart!” the second grunts.
>The cart’s wheels screech against the stone as the two lackeys shove the cart a few feet forward.
>“Do you have a plan, Anonymous?” Rarity asks you. “You said your strength lies in your head, correct?”
“Give me a moment.”
>The Diamond Dogs called you “creature.”
>They don’t know what you are.
>Perfect.
“Rarity, how strong are you with magic?”
>“I can perform some basic spells, nothing special.”
“Can you lower me and teleport some small objects to the bottom of the pit?”
>She frowns, thinking for a few seconds.
>“I could try. I don’t know if I can lift somepony as heavy you, and my power decreases with distance.”
“Alright, well, here’s the plan . . .”
>Rarity lifts you over the edge of the pit, her face contorted and strained from the effort.
>“Push harder! We’ll never get there if we don’t speed up!” the first dog orders.
>You slowly drop, held in place by the static-like tingling of Rarity’s magic.
>Until the magic fails, and you begin to fall.
>Rarity catches you about halfway down the pit, and slowly reach the ground with a thump in full view of the three Diamond Dogs, who notice the shimmering blue aura around you.
>“It’s the creature!” the second shouts.
“Silence! I am Anonymous the Human! I am no mere creature! I am a god! Now bow before my might!”
>Up at the top of the pit, Rarity strikes a match and lights one of the sticks of dynamite.
>You point your hand at a nearby rock.
>The dynamite teleports down and explodes, showering the Diamond Dogs and you with pebbles and filling the air with dust.
>“Attack him! God or not, he is weak!” the first dog orders.
>The two other dogs rush forward.
>Rarity ignites another stick of dynamite.
>You point at another spot on the ground in front of you, where the dynamite detonates, sending the two dogs flying into the hard rock walls.
>They stand up, rubbing their bruised bodies.
“Do not test me,” you boom. “You caught me by surprise earlier, but now my magic is charged! And, I’d like my gems back.”
>“Okay! Okay! Don’t hurt us! We’ll give you the gems back,” the first dog pleads.
“And the wagon!”
>“And the wagon!” he repeats, lifting the red vehicle off the cart and filling it with gems.
“And the rest of the gems for striking me!” you command.
>“But, we need those!” the third dog petitions.
“Then you should consider who you are punching the next time you decide to steal from someone. They may just be a god! And, for disputing my authority, you will push all the gems to Ponyville for me!”
>The three dogs hang their heads in dejection, and begin pushing the cart of gems back up to the top of the quarry.
>As you saunter up to Rarity, you give her a smirk.
>Panting a bit, she returns with a similar, if pained, expression.
>The five of you walk back to town.
“Well, that went better than I expected,” you tell Rarity once the dogs have scampered off.
>“The Diamond Dogs are not very bright,” she informs. “I was able to convince them to leave me alone last time just by complaining about how they were treating me.”
>You chuckle.
>“Well, thank you, Anonymous. You were an excellent helper and bodyguard, darling.”
“You’re welcome,” you state, and depart for Twilight’s tree.
>Six foul-smelling buckets of water sit on the doorstep.
>The Cutie Mark Crusaders have been busy while you were gone.
>While you wait for their return, you leaf through a few pages of A Complete History of Equestria, which you find on one of the shelves.
>You open up to a page with a large sketch of a strange scene.
>A landscape of what appears to be a battlefield is covered with giant cards and chess pieces, cracked with fissures spewing fire and cinders, and littered with rubber chickens and bouncing multi-colored rubber disco balls.
>A snake-like, horned chimera fights two winged unicorns with blasts of purple, black, and gold magic.
>“In the year 301, the foul being Discord, Lord of Chaos, reigned over Equestria,” the caption reads.
>The page follows with a long-winded description of the events leading up to the battle.
>The jabbering of fillies as they trudge up the path interrupts your concentration.
>“How many more buckets of this do you think we need?” Scootaloo asks.
>“Anon said to get as many as we can get,” Applebloom replies.
>You open the door rather suddenly, causing the three girls to jump and spill a bit of water onto the ground.
>“Hi, Anon!” they greet in unison.
> The nickname annoys you slightly, but pay it no heed for now.
“Hello. I have returned.”
>“Are ya ready to help us get our science cutie marks?” Applebloom inquires.
“Yes. Come inside,” you reply.
>You lead the three fillies into the basement.
“Give me a moment,” you tell them. “I need to get some paper and some supplies.”
>You run upstairs and grab a few sheets of paper and a pencil, then come back down and pick up the bag of sulfur and a few matches.
>You also pull out a beaker and a scale from the cupboard.
>The markings are rather odd
>They are in metric.
>More universal similarities.
>Useful.
>But still odd.
>You pour out three grams of sulfur onto the scale while the girls watch, then place the grains in a glass beaker.
“Sulfur, when it burns, produces quite a lovely blue flame,” you explain, striking a match and dropping it in the beaker.
>The sulfur ignites, producing its azure blaze and a puff of pungent, wispy smoke.
“It reacts with the oxygen in the air to produce sulfur dioxide and sulfur trioxide, like so.”
>You write out the two reactions.
>S8 + 8O2 ---> 8SO2
>2S + 3O2 ---> SO3
“For the sake of this experiment, and because I don’t have gas capturing and separation equipment, we’re going to assume that most of the sulfur converted to sulfur trioxide. Now, we used 3 grams of sulfur which is . . .”
>You perform a quick calculation in your head.
“. . . 0.09375 moles so –”
>“Anon, when are we going to get to the science?” Scootaloo asks you.
“My name is Anonymous. Please address me as such. And we are doing science, right now!”
>“This seems like boring schoolwork!” Sweetie Belle complains. “When are we going to make something explode, like this morning?”
“Well, I’m out of gunpowder, so that will have to wait for a few days.”
>The three girls stare up at you with their big round eyes.
>You sigh.
“Science . . . is more than explosions and chemicals.”
>The girls frown at you.
“Science is a both a set of methods and a mindset. The scientific method is a way to discover the truth, and science is ultimately the process of seeking the truth. And because of this, science is intertwined with mathematics. Numbers never lie. Numbers do not have feelings. Numbers are boring. But, sometimes, the numbers reveal something new. A new element, a new force of nature, a new underlying principle guiding the very formation of everything in the universe! However, until you appreciate math and numbers, you can never do science.”
>“I don’t think science is our special talent, Anonymous,” Applebloom laments.
“No, I don’t think it is,” you finish.
>“We’ll see you around,” Scootaloo states glumly, leading her friends out the door.
>You shut the door, pick up A Complete History of Equestria, and continue from where you left off.
>“Discord was a powerful magical entity of unknown origin. He calls himself a Draconequus, however, no other Draconequi have ever appeared in Equestria. It is possible they disappeared alongside other powerful magical creatures, such as the Alicorns. Discord was a master of black magic, specifically Chaos, to the point of near omnipotence. He could bend nature to his very whim, turn the best of friends to bitter enemies, and cause utter destruction with the flick of the wrist.”
“From the frozen South came the armies of the Sun and Moon Princesses. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna summoned the Elements of Harmony and pushed back the stain of Chaos to the former Forgotten Woods, and fought Discord to his defeat. The might of the chaotic magic permanently scarred the Forgotten Woods, and turned it into the ruinous, chessboard plains we see today. Discord was imprisoned in stone and placed on the Palace grounds to remain under the watchful eye of their Majesties.”
>Twilight stomps downstairs.
>“Anonymous. We need to talk,” she states.
>You close the book.
“About what?”
>“About what happened last night between you, Rainbow Dash, and Applejack. Specifically what you said to them before you left.”
“My memory of last night isn’t exactly lucid, but as far as I remember I told them to buzz off, or something to that effect. Maybe a bit stronger than that.”
>“They told me you thought Earth was filled with sycophants and morons . . . and that this world was too. And that you were just pretending to be nice. And that you consider friendship pointless.”
“I’m quite surprised you haven’t picked up on it. You were the first one to call me a jerk, just for pushing around a blacksmith to fit my specifications. The fact of the matter is, Twilight, I’m not what you might call a ‘nice guy.’ I tend to see what others might call friends as . . . allies. Tools. Means to an end. Thus my focus on debt. If you need something from me, then I cannot ask a favor from you. Simple as that. Perfectly logical. My modus operandi with people has always been very simple. I can be quite charming and polite, but it is façade. A way of lowering people’s guards so I can get what I want. I put very little into people I cannot use to my own ends. I don’t need friends, Twilight. They are distracting.”
>“So what am I then? What part do I play in your plan? Am I just a pawn to be –”
“Hardly,” you interrupt. “You have given me resources while asking nothing in return, and I am taking advantage of that. You have been very kind so far, and I appreciate that. Genuinely. I may not be similar to anyone you have met in this universe, Twilight. Your people are kind, thoughtful, and friendly, and that is something I respect. But I am not like that. My question is the following: what do you plan to do about my actions? Throw me out of your house?”
>“No! You’d have nowhere to go!”
>You get very close to her.
“Exactly. Your morals and selflessness prevent you from doing the logical thing and throwing me out into the cold after such a betrayal of trust. Plus you wouldn’t be able to study me. The first pony in all of Equestria to document a being from another dimension . . . a scientist such as yourself could hardly resist it.”
>“No, that’s not it all,” Twilight rebukes. “Anonymous, what you need to understand is . . . this world is filled with monsters. Terrible creatures that destroy everything in their path. Manticores, hydras, masters of destructive magic. People are afraid. And suddenly, a being that they don’t understand is living in my basement. You may not have magical powers, but everypony will see you as a threat. You need to show that you aren’t.
“And that is the beauty of the façade, Twilight. To everyone except you and your circle of friends, assuming none are raging gossips, I am perfectly normal. They will never know I secretly despise them.”
>“All I’d like you to do is apologize to Rainbow Dash and Applejack and we can forget this whole thing.”
“Apologize? What I said I can’t say I regret, because it is how I truly feel about those two. They are not my allies; they are outsiders and distractions. Furthermore, they were the ones who dragged me out drinking. So, had they not, we would be continuing the little fantasy I created. You never would have seen the real man behind the curtain. So, if anything, Rainbow Dash and Applejack should be apologizing to me.”
>The purple unicorn sighs.
>“No. It’s my fault. I should have been there. I warned them that I didn’t know how you’d react to being intoxicated. Mentally. I was too concerned with you being poisoned. My fault . . .”
>You blink.
>Concerned.
>It’s generally not said with relation to you, except by those you are related genetically with.
“It’s not your fault,” you mutter. “Do not blame yourself for this. As I said, you are the one ally I have in this universe at this point. Well, perhaps that white unicorn as well –”
>“Rarity!” Twilight snaps.
“Yes - Rarity.”
>You turn around and begin to head downstairs.
“Know this Twilight. Whatever I say to you after this point I mean with full sincerity. The curtain has turned to glass.”

create a new version of this paste RAW Paste Data

Mad Science
By IceMan

Chapter 4

>Light.
>Natural light.
>It burns.
>You manage to sit up in your bed to find Twilight’s little purple dragon thing sitting in front of you.
>What was his name again?
>Lance?
>Spike, that was it.
>“Oh good, you’re awake. Celestia, what did those two do to you last night?” Spike asks. “Twilight found you passed out on the floor! That must have been some night on the town.”
“It wasn’t,” you grunt.
>You manage to lug yourself out of bed and walk over to your dissolving potassium nitrate.
>“Do you want any breakfast or anything?” the dragon asks.
>You give no response.
>“Twilight’s going to be gone, by the way. She’s off doing errands for most of the day, and I’m probably going to head off with her.”
>You only grunt recognition of the statement.
>“Alright, so, yeah, just do whatever you do . . . .”
>Your head hurts slightly, but not enough to make you lose focus on the task at hand.
>A mild hangover will not stop you from doing what needs to be done, and will hopefully fade later today.
>The pot of water and bat droppings has turned milky white overnight with dissolved chemicals.
>You strain the liquid into a cauldron and set it over the flames of the basement fireplace.
>The cauldron soon begins to boil, sending droplets hissing into the fire.
>On the couch across from the fireplace, you sit with your fingertips pressed against each other, entranced by the flickering blaze and taking occasional peeks at the white residue collecting around the edges of the cauldron.
>Once the water evaporates completely, the fire extinguished, and the cauldron cooled, you scrape the sides with the dull edge of a knife for the precious potassium nitrate, collecting it at the bottom.
>You then go outside and check on the charcoal pyre.
>Digging away the dirt with a shovel, you notice that most of the wood has turned to charcoal.
>Excellent.
>You scoop as much of the blackened wood as you can into a pail and take it inside, then crush the chunks with a mallet.
>Rocket-grade gunpowder, if you remember correctly, is 60% saltpeter, 25% charcoal, and 15% sulfur.
>You grab a small beaker from Twilight’s laboratory cupboards.
>You are limited by the amount of saltpeter you have, but there is enough for a test batch.
>You add about a quarter of the amount of saltpeter in sulfur and a little less than half of the amount of saltpeter in charcoal.
>You stir the powder together with a glass stick, then take it outside, grabbing some matches from the cupboard and placing them in your pocket.
>Finding a clear patch of ground, you pour out a small pile of gunpowder, then lay a trail about a foot away so that you can jump back to safety once the powder is lit.
>You strike a match and drop it on the trail, which ignites in a plume of sparks and smoke, travelling towards the larger pile at the end.
>The spark ominously runs closer to the mound, which erupts in a small cloud of acrid, like the smell of rusting steel, opaque fumes as it is kindled.
>You smile a bit.
>Even better, your headache seems to have subsided.
>“Hi Anon!”
>You jump and whirl around to see who is speaking to you.
>The Cutie Mark Crusaders stand behind you, wearing three enormous grins.
“Oh, hello girls. Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
>“Sorry. Will ya help us –” Applebloom begins.
“Find your Cutie Marks? No, I’ve told you for the last three days that I don’t have any idea how to obtain a Cutie Mark in the first place, nor do I think that it’s a good idea to look for the meaning of your existence.”
>”But Twilight told us you’re some kind of scientist! Maybe our special talent is in science!” Sweetie Belle exclaims.
“Yes, I am a scientist. But, I have no instruments, no chemicals, nothing to do science with!”
>“Then what was that whoosh we just heard?” Scootaloo asks.
“Gunpowder. I need it to make fireworks, and I don’t have enough of it for any experimentation.”
>Sweetie Belle’s eyes suddenly flash.
>“If we get the ingredients for gunpowder, will you help us get our science Cutie Marks?”
>Gears begin turning in your head.
“Okay.”
>“Yay!” all three girls shout and begin running in circles around you.
“Alright, here’s what I need. First, I need more saltpeter. You can get it from dissolving bat guano in water, then boiling the water away. Just get me as much guano as you can. You’ll probably want to wear boots. “
>"Uh, what's guano?" Scootaloo asks.
"Bat poop."
>They look at you in disgust for a moment, but then return to grinning. 
>“CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS SCIENTISTS!” they cheer, and run off laughing.
>That gets that out of the way.
>You refill the charcoal pit with wood, cover it with dirt, and set it ablaze.
>As you look upon your handiwork, you hear a pony trotting up the pathway.
“Hello, Rarity.”
>“Hello, Anonymous. There is something I’d like you to help me with,” she states.
“If it’s shopping, I’m afraid that I won’t be able to help you,” you say with a smirk on your face.
>”It’s not.”
“Then what is it?”
>“I often go out into the wilds to look for gems. I have a special little spell that allows me to seek them out quite easily. However, it is not very lady-like of me to pursue such crude tasks as digging. Normally, I have Spike help me out, but he is off doing something with Twilight today. Plus, I don’t like that he always tries to eat what we collect.”
“Hold on. How common are gemstones in Equestria?”
>“Fairly common, I guess. You can find them just below the surface in some places. Is this not the same back on Earth?”
>You furrow your brow.
“No. Gems on Earth are a precious commodity.”
>You pause and think for a moment. 
“What exactly do you need gems for anyways? I thought you were a clothing designer.”
>“They add an extra bit of ‘pop’ to my designs,” she explains. “A lot of my wealthier patrons like a bit of extra style in their garments.”
“Well, I guess I don’t really have a choice either way. I owe you.”
>“I’d also like you to be my bodyguard. There are some nasty ruffians that frequent the gem fields.”
>You frown.
“I’m not quite sure if I would be able to do that job well. I am not the most . . . athletic human.”
“Oh, don’t worry Anonymous! You’re at least a foot taller than anything that might come after us out there. Just the sight of you will scare something off!”
>You’re not quite sure if you should be insulted by that last comment.
“Alright. Let’s go.”
>Heading west through town, the landscape changes from rolling grassy plains to rocky crags, pockmarked with caves at the foot of towering mountains like the stony legs of giants scraping the sky.
>You carry a shovel over your shoulder, while Rarity wheels a little red wagon behind her. 
>Rarity breaks a stick off of a dead tree with her telekinetic magic, and, with another flash from her horn, begins scanning the ground with a ray of energy, illuminating the subterranean gems as she goes.
>She marks an X on the ground where the precious crystals are found, allowing you to dig into the dry earth with your shovel.
>A few scoops later, a hoard of various colored fist-sized gemstones sparkles before your eyes.
>So, these really just grow beneath the ground here.
>However, abundance decreases value.
>You tip them into the wagon and find another X to dig.	
>Your muscles ache from the exertion of digging.
>Physical labor was never your skill.
>After twelve holes, Rarity calls, “I think that’s enough gems, Anonymous! This area looks cleared out.”
>You rub your sore arms and lean on your shovel, plunging the tip into the ground and breathing laboriously.
>A furry paw wraps around your body and begins to yank you backwards.
>You spin around to see who is attacking you.
>Three brutish, bipedal canines glare at you and bare their teeth.
>They reek of fetid meat and dirt.
>The first is thin and has a dark grey coat, the second has a pug-like face and a brown coat, and the third is tall and muscular with a light grey coat.
>A rusty wooden cart filled with gems sits behind them. 
“Rarity, we’ve got trou – oof!”
>Your shout is cut off by a sharp punch to the jaw.
>The first dog pins you to the ground under his foot and knocks your shovel out of your hands.
>“Get the gems,” the first dog snarls. “Leave the creature and the mule, unless they get in our way.”
>The two other dogs lumber over to the wagon of sparkling stones.
“Rarity, use your magic!” you bellow.
>You are rewarded with a smack to the back of the head.
>She looks up from scanning a patch of ground and sees the two ruffians approaching her wagon.
>“Oh, hello Diamond Dogs. Are you going to take me back to your cave and make me work again?”
>“Not this time, mule,” the second dog growls.
>“This time, we just take your gems,” the third hisses.
>They shove her to the ground and take the wagon, then run back to their cart and pour the gems in and set your red wagon on top. 
>The first dog releases you and jumps on top of the pile of gemstones.
 >“Mush!” he orders to his men, and the wagon begins to roll off towards a nearby cave.
>“After them, Anonymous!” Rarity shouts to you, running to your side.
“Why? Can’t we just go dig somewhere else?”
>“No! Well, I mean we could but . . . those are my gems! And my wagon!”
>You don’t really want to dig more holes anyways.
>You pick your shovel up off the ground. 
>It may make a suitable weapon.
>“I thought you’d be a better bodyguard then this!” she berates.
“As I told you, I am not very strong. My strength lies in my head, not my body, and I prefer it that way. And I could say the same for you!” 
>“Magical attacks are not really my specialty,” she retorts.
“What were those things anyways?”
>“Diamond Dogs. They are thieves who steal gemstones.”
>You reach the dark cave mouth and notice the ruts of the wagon wheels tracked through the soft dirt.
“Can you illuminate the cave with your magic?” you ask.
>“I can try,” Rarity replies and ignites her horn.
>The a small sphere of light surrounds you as you follow the ruts.
>The tunnel widens up, and you enter a large round quarry, with narrow trails descending to the bottom, where more openings dig into the rock.
>You hear the echo of voices coming from the bottom of the pit.
>A few boxes of dynamite sit by the entrance.
>“So, what are we going to do with all these gems, boss?” the third Diamond Dog asks the first.
>“The same thing we always do, you imbecile! Take them to Los Pegasus and sell them to the black market!” the first barks.
>“Oh, right. Sorry,” the third apologizes. 
>“Don’t be sorry! Just push the cart!” the second grunts.
>The cart’s wheels screech against the stone as the two lackeys shove the cart a few feet forward.
>“Do you have a plan, Anonymous?” Rarity asks you. “You said your strength lies in your head, correct?”
“Give me a moment.”
>The Diamond Dogs called you “creature.”
>They don’t know what you are.
>Perfect.
“Rarity, how strong are you with magic?”
>“I can perform some basic spells, nothing special.”
“Can you lower me and teleport some small objects to the bottom of the pit?”
>She frowns, thinking for a few seconds.
>“I could try. I don’t know if I can lift somepony as heavy you, and my power decreases with distance.”
“Alright, well, here’s the plan . . .”
>Rarity lifts you over the edge of the pit, her face contorted and strained from the effort.
>“Push harder! We’ll never get there if we don’t speed up!” the first dog orders.
>You slowly drop, held in place by the static-like tingling of Rarity’s magic.
>Until the magic fails, and you begin to fall.
>Rarity catches you about halfway down the pit, and slowly reach the ground with a thump in full view of the three Diamond Dogs, who notice the shimmering blue aura around you.
>“It’s the creature!” the second shouts.
“Silence! I am Anonymous the Human! I am no mere creature! I am a god! Now bow before my might!”
>Up at the top of the pit, Rarity strikes a match and lights one of the sticks of dynamite. 
>You point your hand at a nearby rock.
>The dynamite teleports down and explodes, showering the Diamond Dogs and you with pebbles and filling the air with dust.
>“Attack him! God or not, he is weak!” the first dog orders.
>The two other dogs rush forward.
>Rarity ignites another stick of dynamite.
>You point at another spot on the ground in front of you, where the dynamite detonates, sending the two dogs flying into the hard rock walls.
>They stand up, rubbing their bruised bodies.
“Do not test me,” you boom. “You caught me by surprise earlier, but now my magic is charged! And, I’d like my gems back.”
>“Okay! Okay! Don’t hurt us! We’ll give you the gems back,” the first dog pleads.
“And the wagon!”
>“And the wagon!” he repeats, lifting the red vehicle off the cart and filling it with gems.
“And the rest of the gems for striking me!” you command.
>“But, we need those!” the third dog petitions. 
“Then you should consider who you are punching the next time you decide to steal from someone. They may just be a god! And, for disputing my authority, you will push all the gems to Ponyville for me!”
>The three dogs hang their heads in dejection, and begin pushing the cart of gems back up to the top of the quarry.
>As you saunter up to Rarity, you give her a smirk.
>Panting a bit, she returns with a similar, if pained, expression.
>The five of you walk back to town.
“Well, that went better than I expected,” you tell Rarity once the dogs have scampered off.
>“The Diamond Dogs are not very bright,” she informs. “I was able to convince them to leave me alone last time just by complaining about how they were treating me.”
>You chuckle.
>“Well, thank you, Anonymous. You were an excellent helper and bodyguard, darling.”
“You’re welcome,” you state, and depart for Twilight’s tree.
>Six foul-smelling buckets of water sit on the doorstep.
>The Cutie Mark Crusaders have been busy while you were gone.
>While you wait for their return, you leaf through a few pages of A Complete History of Equestria, which you find on one of the shelves.
>You open up to a page with a large sketch of a strange scene.
>A landscape of what appears to be a battlefield is covered with giant cards and chess pieces, cracked with fissures spewing fire and cinders, and littered with rubber chickens and bouncing multi-colored rubber disco balls.
>A snake-like, horned chimera fights two winged unicorns with blasts of purple, black, and gold magic.
>“In the year 301, the foul being Discord, Lord of Chaos, reigned over Equestria,” the caption reads.
>The page follows with a long-winded description of the events leading up to the battle.
>The jabbering of fillies as they trudge up the path interrupts your concentration.
>“How many more buckets of this do you think we need?” Scootaloo asks.
>“Anon said to get as many as we can get,” Applebloom replies.
>You open the door rather suddenly, causing the three girls to jump and spill a bit of water onto the ground.
>“Hi, Anon!” they greet in unison.
> The nickname annoys you slightly, but pay it no heed for now.
“Hello. I have returned.”
>“Are ya ready to help us get our science cutie marks?” Applebloom inquires.
“Yes. Come inside,” you reply.
>You lead the three fillies into the basement.
“Give me a moment,” you tell them. “I need to get some paper and some supplies.”
>You run upstairs and grab a few sheets of paper and a pencil, then come back down and pick up the bag of sulfur and a few matches.
>You also pull out a beaker and a scale from the cupboard.
>The markings are rather odd 
>They are in metric.
>More universal similarities.
>Useful.
>But still odd.
>You pour out three grams of sulfur onto the scale while the girls watch, then place the grains in a glass beaker.
 “Sulfur, when it burns, produces quite a lovely blue flame,” you explain, striking a match and dropping it in the beaker.
>The sulfur ignites, producing its azure blaze and a puff of pungent, wispy smoke.
“It reacts with the oxygen in the air to produce sulfur dioxide and sulfur trioxide, like so.”
>You write out the two reactions.
>S8 + 8O2 ---> 8SO2
>2S + 3O2 ---> SO3
“For the sake of this experiment, and because I don’t have gas capturing and separation equipment, we’re going to assume that most of the sulfur converted to sulfur trioxide. Now, we used 3 grams of sulfur which is . . .”
>You perform a quick calculation in your head.
“. . . 0.09375 moles so –”
>“Anon, when are we going to get to the science?” Scootaloo asks you.
“My name is Anonymous. Please address me as such. And we are doing science, right now!”
>“This seems like boring schoolwork!” Sweetie Belle complains. “When are we going to make something explode, like this morning?”
“Well, I’m out of gunpowder, so that will have to wait for a few days.”
>The three girls stare up at you with their big round eyes.
>You sigh.
“Science . . . is more than explosions and chemicals.” 
>The girls frown at you.
“Science is a both a set of methods and a mindset. The scientific method is a way to discover the truth, and science is ultimately the process of seeking the truth. And because of this, science is intertwined with mathematics. Numbers never lie. Numbers do not have feelings. Numbers are boring. But, sometimes, the numbers reveal something new. A new element, a new force of nature, a new underlying principle guiding the very formation of everything in the universe! However, until you appreciate math and numbers, you can never do science.”
>“I don’t think science is our special talent, Anonymous,” Applebloom laments.
“No, I don’t think it is,” you finish.
>“We’ll see you around,” Scootaloo states glumly, leading her friends out the door.
>You shut the door, pick up A Complete History of Equestria, and continue from where you left off.
>“Discord was a powerful magical entity of unknown origin. He calls himself a Draconequus, however, no other Draconequi have ever appeared in Equestria. It is possible they disappeared alongside other powerful magical creatures, such as the Alicorns. Discord was a master of black magic, specifically Chaos, to the point of near omnipotence. He could bend nature to his very whim, turn the best of friends to bitter enemies, and cause utter destruction with the flick of the wrist.”
“From the frozen South came the armies of the Sun and Moon Princesses. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna summoned the Elements of Harmony and pushed back the stain of Chaos to the former Forgotten Woods, and fought Discord to his defeat. The might of the chaotic magic permanently scarred the Forgotten Woods, and turned it into the ruinous, chessboard plains we see today. Discord was imprisoned in stone and placed on the Palace grounds to remain under the watchful eye of their Majesties.”
>Twilight stomps downstairs.
>“Anonymous. We need to talk,” she states.
>You close the book.
“About what?”
>“About what happened last night between you, Rainbow Dash, and Applejack. Specifically what you said to them before you left.”
“My memory of last night isn’t exactly lucid, but as far as I remember I told them to buzz off, or something to that effect. Maybe a bit stronger than that.”
>“They told me you thought Earth was filled with sycophants and morons . . . and that this world was too. And that you were just pretending to be nice. And that you consider friendship pointless.”
“I’m quite surprised you haven’t picked up on it. You were the first one to call me a jerk, just for pushing around a blacksmith to fit my specifications. The fact of the matter is, Twilight, I’m not what you might call a ‘nice guy.’ I tend to see what others might call friends as . . . allies. Tools. Means to an end. Thus my focus on debt. If you need something from me, then I cannot ask a favor from you. Simple as that. Perfectly logical. My modus operandi with people has always been very simple. I can be quite charming and polite, but it is façade. A way of lowering people’s guards so I can get what I want. I put very little into people I cannot use to my own ends. I don’t need friends, Twilight. They are distracting.”
>“So what am I then? What part do I play in your plan? Am I just a pawn to be –”
“Hardly,” you interrupt. “You have given me resources while asking nothing in return, and I am taking advantage of that. You have been very kind so far, and I appreciate that. Genuinely. I may not be similar to anyone you have met in this universe, Twilight. Your people are kind, thoughtful, and friendly, and that is something I respect. But I am not like that. My question is the following: what do you plan to do about my actions? Throw me out of your house?”
>“No! You’d have nowhere to go!”
>You get very close to her.
“Exactly. Your morals and selflessness prevent you from doing the logical thing and throwing me out into the cold after such a betrayal of trust. Plus you wouldn’t be able to study me. The first pony in all of Equestria to document a being from another dimension . . . a scientist such as yourself could hardly resist it.”
>“No, that’s not it all,” Twilight rebukes. “Anonymous, what you need to understand is . . . this world is filled with monsters. Terrible creatures that destroy everything in their path. Manticores, hydras, masters of destructive magic. People are afraid. And suddenly, a being that they don’t understand is living in my basement. You may not have magical powers, but everypony will see you as a threat. You need to show that you aren’t. 
“And that is the beauty of the façade, Twilight. To everyone except you and your circle of friends, assuming none are raging gossips, I am perfectly normal. They will never know I secretly despise them.”
>“All I’d like you to do is apologize to Rainbow Dash and Applejack and we can forget this whole thing.”
“Apologize? What I said I can’t say I regret, because it is how I truly feel about those two. They are not my allies; they are outsiders and distractions. Furthermore, they were the ones who dragged me out drinking. So, had they not, we would be continuing the little fantasy I created. You never would have seen the real man behind the curtain. So, if anything, Rainbow Dash and Applejack should be apologizing to me.”
>The purple unicorn sighs.
>“No. It’s my fault. I should have been there. I warned them that I didn’t know how you’d react to being intoxicated. Mentally. I was too concerned with you being poisoned. My fault . . .”
>You blink.
>Concerned.
>It’s generally not said with relation to you, except by those you are related genetically with. 
“It’s not your fault,” you mutter. “Do not blame yourself for this. As I said, you are the one ally I have in this universe at this point. Well, perhaps that white unicorn as well –”
>“Rarity!” Twilight snaps.
“Yes - Rarity.”
>You turn around and begin to head downstairs.
“Know this Twilight. Whatever I say to you after this point I mean with full sincerity. The curtain has turned to glass.”

Pastebin.com Tools & Applications

iPhone/iPad

Windows

Firefox

Chrome

WebOS

Android

Mac

Opera

Click.to

UNIX

WinPhone