Title:           Behind Blue Eyes in Equestria - Part 5
Author:          Violation
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/RwSdxPya
First Edit:      Friday 20th of July 2012 12:30:40 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Friday 20th of July 2012 12:30:40 PM CDT

>Your eyes widen behind the cold exterior of your helmet.
>While the other p0nies came up roughly to your upper hip, these ones didn't even make it to your knees.
>Your computer has trouble classifying them: none of these ones have the mark on the flank.
>*"Careful now, Anonymous, these little ones are children."
>You swallow hard.
>You've never seen a child before.
>They hadn't experienced life yet.
>They did not know the terror that you were designed to bring about.
>"I thought you said he talked, Apple Bloom," the tiny pegasus says. She appears annoyed.
>This group was everything that you were unfamiliar with.
>"He was talkin' this mornin'..."
>Your purpose in life was death.
>"Well... maybe he's just shy!"
>The tiny white unicorn steps forward.
>THUMPH.
>You take a step back.
>One wrong movement from you could crush these tiny p0nies into paste.
>You had never felt like this before.
>You didn't want to hurt them.
>"Um, Ah think we're scarin' 'im..."
>Your computer updates this p0ny with the ribbon as Apple Bloom, and runs its analysis against Applejack. Perhaps related.
>"That's silly! He went right into that burning building, it even fell on him!" the white one squeaks.
>"So he doesn't really... uh... afraid of anything..."
>"That's not even a proper sentence!"
 
 
>You can feel yourself sweat.
>What was it about these tiny foals that made you behave this way?
>Pearl flashes a word on your HUD: Fear.
>What?
>No, that can't be right.
>Fear wasn't such a concern.
>You shifted your enormous weight.
>It didn't make sense.
>You were subjected to horrific circumstances all the time.
>Death was commonplace.
>No pain, torture, sensation, situation, or odds ever fazed you.
>What was it about these young fillies?
>You sit your suit down again.
>Maybe you could avoid crushing them if you were immobile.
>"Oh EW!"
>"What is it?"
>"He's DIRTY! Look!"
>The pegasus points to your boot prints on the ground.
>Soot imprints mark where your boots have been.
>You hadn't cleaned your suit, it was still blackened.
>"Maybe we can git our cutie mark from cleanin' him up!"
>The others' eyes go wide and the group shoots out the door.
>A sinking feeling descends on your stomach.
 
 
>A few moments later, the group surges back into the barn, with rags, sponges, and buckets of water.
>"You just hold still Mister Anon! We'll git ya all cleaned up!"
>SPLASH!
>A bucket is emptied over your suit.
>"You aren't gonna get him clean by doing that, Apple Bloom."
>The small pegasus saunters up to you with a thick sponge and rubs it on your leg plates.
>The soot begins to be scrubbed off.
>A ladder is placed at your back, as the unicorn climbs your mountainous shoulders.
>You try to hold as still as you can.
>One false movement would turn these p0nies into paste.
>The trio of p0nies get to work scrubbing your armor.
>You sit in silence.
>"You're not a big talker, are you?" the unicorn asks, clinking against your helmet with a hoof.
>Pearl's pink dot flashes encouragingly.
"No."
>"O-Oh!"
>You detect intimidation, and regret saying anything.
>"What's the matter, Sweetie Belle, you afraid?"
>"N-No! He just surprised me, Scootaloo!"
>"Uh-huh."
>They resume work, and your computer has catalogued the p0nies' names for you.
>Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo.
>Soap suds runs down your shoulders, but you hold still.
 
 
>You wait patiently for the group to finish.
>Your armor shines quite well, as if you had cleaned it yourself.
>"Good as new!"
>"Great job everyp0ny!"
>"Cutie Mark Crusader cleaners!"
>They jump together and slap hooves.
>What odd behaviour.
"You have me at a disadvantage li--"
>"We're the CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS!" they announce.
>"Apple Bloom!"
>"Scootaloo!"
>"Sweetie Belle!"
>"We're gonna fin' out our cutie marks!"
>Cutie mark crusad--
>Your mind remembers the mark on the flank, individual to each p0ny.
>None of these young ones had such a mark.
>*An interesting note, Anonymous.
>A sign of maturity?
>*You should ask.
"Cutie mark?"
>"Our cutie marks!" squeals Sweetie Belle. "The mark that shows what makes you different than every other p0ny!"
>"We're trying to find ours."
>"An' we're gonna find 'em together!"
"So the mark signifies...?"
>"Your special talent!"
>You blink into your computer's database of p0nies and bring up a few.
>Applejack had apples for a cutie mark, and she harvested apples.
>Shining Armor had a shield, and he was a guard captain.
>Twilight had a sort of star pattern, perhaps signifying her relationship with magic.
>Biology syncing with psychology and sociology.
>Interesting.
 
 
>"Do hyoo-mans git cutie marks?"
>"Apple Bloom, that's silly. Only p0nies get cutie marks."
>You nodded.
"Scootaloo is correct."
>The fillies step back as you rise again, knocking over the ladder at your back.
>"So... your armor, do you take it off?"
"Yes."
>"Well it’s probably been a while since you've taken it off, right?"
"Yes."
>"Why don't you?"
"There has been no reas--"
>"Anon! Soup's up--!"
>"Applejack!"
>"Apple Bloom, didn't Ah tell y'all to steer clear o' this here barn?"
>"But I--"
>"We wanted to see Anon!" squeaked Sweetie Belle.
>Applejack leers at the group, but she sees that you haven't killed them.
>"They botherin' you Anon?"
"No. They were kind enough to clean my armor."
>You shift nervously.
>The tiny p0nies file out, leaving you and Applejack.
>You can hear their tiny hooves patter away.
>You let out a huge sigh.
>"That bad?"
>You hold out your massive gauntlet, showing Applejack your glove.
"One finger is all it would take to kill them. I was..."
>You trail off.
>Hurting these p0nies seemed... unthinkable.
>You had never had such an aversion to violence before.
>"Y'all were scared o' hurtin' the young-uns with that huge suit o' yers."
>You nod your suit.
>"Well, Ah got a good meal waitin' for ya. Let's go Anon."
 
 
>Applejack leads you to a table set outside of her home.
>You wouldn't be able to get inside without unwanted renovations.
>She sets out a meal the likes of which you'd never seen.
>Corn adorns the center platter, ready for nearby butter and salting.
>Tomatoes occupy another, having been sliced.
>A main course of salad sits in a bowl.
>And a glass of apple juice garnishes the fine meal.
>"It ain't much, but we're simple folk 'round these parts."
>You can't believe your eyes.
>You'd never seen so much fresh food in one place.
>Prepared just this evening.
>You were used to bland, gray, green, or mauve nutrient blocks.
>Only admirals really had such impressive meals.
>It was... very new.
>"Anon?"
>You bring yourself back, and sit next to the table on the ground.
>"Y'all can eat this, raight?"
"My suit can process it and feed it to me, yes."
>"Ye seem troubled by it."
"I have never had such an exotic meal before."
>Applejack's brow furrows.
>"What in tarnation?"
"I am used to simple nutrient blocks, they are bland, and... blocks."
>"Yer tellin' me you ain't never had real food before?"
"Not of this luxurious stripe, no."
>Applejack looks dumbfounded.
>"Eh... heh... well... enjoy yer fancy meal, there."
"Thank you very much, Applejack. I will not forget this."
 
 
>"Oh, uh, Anon."
>You were finishing feeding your suit the last of the meal for processing.
>You stop and point your optics towards her.
>"Twilaight came by t'day, said the p0ny you saved, she wan's to meet'cha."
>You think for a moment.
>"She's one o' mah friends, Rarity."
>You remember a soot-sodden unicorn, surrounded by flames.
"Has her recovery gone well?"
>"Oh she's fine, sugar cube. A bit rattled but she's fine, all thanks to you."
"I just did what nee-"
>"Don' go playin' the unwillin' hero there Anon, ye saved mah friend."
>A hero?
>*Hero: n, a man of distinguished courage or ability, admired for his brave deeds and noble qualities.
>Your thoughts flow to screaming marines, half burned, their bones broken.
>The screaming.
>You remember the faces of volunteer crew, praying they would be spared and see their families again.
>The gutted marines, trying to push guts back into their bodies.
>The flash-burned-then-frozen corpses of dozens of engineers corralled into a tiny space.
"I am not a hero."
>"There ya go again, Anon. Ya saved a p0ny today, an' that makes you a hero."