"You and me forever"
By DangerousAmoeba (https://pastebin.com/u/DangerousAmoeba)

URL: https://pastebin.com/p9LJhxwe
Created on: Thursday 25th of August 2016 04:58:43 PM CDT
Retrieved on: Sunday 25 of October 2020 05:03:46 AM UTC


>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.”
--------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------------------------
>”Da da!”
>1000 bits, the prize for losing.
>”Da da!”
>10,000 bits, the prize for winning.
>”Da da!”
>Meme hops from one of your spread legs.
>She’s been excited and full of energy since yesterday.
>The money is good, damn good. But her little smile is your real reward.
>She jumps to your left leg, sits up and looks up at you.
>”Da da!”
>Then she jumps to your right leg, sits up and looks up at you.
>”Da da!”
“What are you doing Meme?”
>”Huh?! Da da!”
>She begins babbling up an explaination, but suddenly has a look of excitement on her face.
>She sits up on your right leg, and puts her hooves out towards you.
“You wanna hug sweetheart?”
>She adorably shakes her little head
>”No no no. Da da, do!”
>She keeps her hooves out and says ‘do’ over again.
>You follow her hooves with your arms and put them out a little bit.
>She excitedly looks at you, and comes a little closer.
>She grabs your right hand with both hooves and pulls on it until it’s fully extended. Then she flies in a hop to your left leg and does the same to your left arm.
>She hops off your lap onto the floor below, and turns around sitting up excitedly.
>You must look pretty stupid with your arms outstretched, but anything for her.
“Oh, you want me to catch you sweetheart?”
>”’atch?!”
“Yes, Meme. CATCH.”
>You pretend to catch her as you do and mime the movements to show her.
>She excitedly gasps
>”’ATCH! Da da, ‘atch!”
>It’s like something clicks in her head, and she excitedly stomps her hooves.
“Come here darling! Daddy will catch you!”
>She takes a few excited steps backwards, and lowers herself.
>Like a cat ready to pounce she puts herself close to the ground and puts her tail in the air.
>She sticks her tongue out the side of her mouth, and wiggles a little bit.
>You think she learned this from one of the story books you read her.
“Come on, Meme.”
>She takes another second:
>”Da, da…”
>She pounces off the ground to almost your height, wings outspread, hooves outstretched and the sunniest smile in the land.
>”’ATCH!”
>She sails right into your waiting arms, and your hands lead her right into your chest.
>As soon as she makes contact with your chest she wraps all of her hooves and her wings around you.
>”Da da!”
>She happily giggles and babbles about ‘atch’.
>She really loved that, maybe it has to do with her being a pegasus. Or she just loves to play with ‘Da da’.
>You hope for the latter, and have an idea.
>Shuffling on your couch and reclining side ways, head rested on one armrest and legs dangling over the other.
>You lift your little angel out of your chest, and hold her above you with outstretched arms.
>She excitedly spreads her wings and hooves.
>”Da da!”
>Gently you bring her down and she folds her wings and hooves back in.
>You gently toss her up just a couple inches out of your waiting hands
>She spreads her wings and hooves, and giggles in excitement.
>Quickly she comes down into your arms and you land her back into your chest.
>You give her a kiss and toss her again, higher this time.
>Her giggles turn to laughter as she hovers a little above you, then back into your arms.
>Again and again you toss her into the air and catch her.
>Her sweet laughter fills the house and your heart with happiness.
>Every time she folds herself into a little ball in anticipation as you land her and kiss her cheek.
>And each time you let go of her, her wings and hooves bloom wide.
>Her only words between laughter are excited ‘Da da’ and ‘Atch’.
>After you don’t know how many tosses, she learns a new way to melt your heart.
>You bring her in for a landing, and she kisses your nose as you’re about to kiss hers.
>You feel warmth all over you, as you toss her into the air again.
>Coming back in for a landing, she does it again.
>Controlling her laughter to kiss your nose, and you kiss hers in return.
>tossing her higher and higher, holding your breath until she’s safely in your arms again.
>You don’t know how long you play with her, but eventually you feel as though she’s probably getting tired, and so are you.
>Her laughter still holds and you wish you didn’t have to stop, but your heart still fears hurting her.
>One last time, you ready your arms.
>Bringing your ball of joy close to your chest.
>She pecks your nose and you peck hers.
>Then with considerable force, you push out and she takes flight above you.
>Laughing, she happily spreads her wings and hooves out.
>Sailing above you, until she reaches her apex, and begins to fall.
>”Da da! ‘Atch!”
>She instructs you between laughter and you oblige.
>Catching her from the air and landing her back onto your chest one last time.
>You kiss her on the cheek and on the head as her laughing turns back into giggling and she buries her tired face into your neck.
“Tired, Princess?”
>You ask her as she rubs her soft head into your neck.
>She quickly sits up on top of you.
>”No! Da da!”
>She proudly proclaims.
“What do you wanna do, Meme?”
>You ask her and she looks around and on the floor.
>Spotting something, she quickly hops off your chest onto the floor.
>She happily trots over to her little pile of toys and books and looks at a little treasure chest.
>You sit up and slide off the couch into the floor.
>She brings the little treasure chest to you, and she uses her nose to open it.
>Inside are a few small fake gold coins, and small fake jewellery.
>For a second you think if it’s dangerous for her to have these
>Especially with the teething, encouraging her little habit of putting everything in her mouth.
>”Da da! Uhh, wha?!”
>She does this when she wants to know what a new thing is.
“That’s a treasure chest, Meme.”
>You slowly tell her what it is.
>”Trezz?”
>She tries to follow what you said, but struggles with the big word.
>You empty the little toy, and separate the components into two piles.
“This is a CHEST, and this is the TREASURE.”
>You explain to her each component.
“CHEST.”
>”’est?”
>She snappily replies, and you giggle at her effort.
“CHe-EST.”
>”E’est!”
>You think about it for a second and remember a book on baby speech.
“Meme say: CHOO CHOO. Like a train.”
>You know she can do that; she loves her little train set.
>Now that you have the money, you’re thinking about that big one with a wind up train for her.
>”CHOO CHOO! Da da, twain! CHOO CHOO!”
>She excitedly giggles after being reminded of the train.
“Good job, Meme. Now say, CHOO CHOO CHEST.”
>”CHOO CHOO CHE-“
>She almost does it, but she catches herself and she sticks her tongue out.
>She must be getting thirsty, but before you get up to get her sippy cup the tough little cookie goes on.
>”CHOO CHOO CHE-EST!”
>She says.
“Good job! Now say CHOO CHEST!”
>”CHOO! CHEST!”
“Now just say CHEST!”
>She thinks about it for a second, but something clicks in her head and she obliges you and:
>”CHEST!”
“Yes darling, Chest!”
>You point at the object and the two of you repeat the word a few times.
>After she’s said the word a few times, she loses interest and points to the pile of fake treasure.
“TREASURE.”
>”Trez-zz—ur.”
>She adorably trips over the big word.
“Don’t worry sweetie, that’s a big girl word. Wanna try again?”
>”Trez-er!”
>She tries a few more times, but loses interest.
>You’re about to put the items together again, but she quickly gets up and trots over to her pile of books.
>She uses her nose, to look at the books trying to find a specific one.
>She tries to grab a book somewhere in the middle with her few teeth but can’t get it.
>As much as you want to help her, the parenting books said not to. Besides you know she’ll figure it out.
>And figure it out she does, she slides the top stack forward with her hooves, and drags her chosen book out with her teeth, then pushes the top again.
>She’s almost had the book out, when she pulls a little too hastily and the top stack falls off.
>She tries to catch the falling stack with her hooves, but she’s a little late and the books scatter to the ground.
>Looking a little shocked at the books on the ground, she looks at you with adorable wide eyes and a little mischievous smile.
>You respond back with a tilted face, and a small smile.
>She quickly puffs her cheeks and hides her little smile with her wings. And you laugh.
>You’re sure she learned that from you.
“Don’t worry sweetheart, we’ll clean that up.”
>Satisfied with your answer, she picks up the book again and hops over to you.
>It’s a big children fairy tales book, with lots of pictures and little text.
>Meme chose it at a garage sale.
>Unfortunately it’s supposed to be 2 books, one full of pictures for the child to look at, and another small novel with stories to go along with the pictures.
>She opens the book with her wing and uses her hooves to drag the pages until she gets to a page with a pirate mare standing proudly over an overstuffed treasure chest.
>Meme points to the picture, and then drags the little toy chest and fills it.
>She purposefully lets some of the loot hang out of the chest just like the picture.
>Then she puts her hoof on the chest, posing like the pony in the illustration.
>”Da da! Trez-r chest!”
“A chest full of treasure!”
>You try to break the words up to explain what they are, not that you know what you’re doing.
>”Yaaa! Trez-r chest!”
“Is that your treasure Meme?”
>You ask her jokingly, and point at some of the toy valuables overflowing from the chest.
>She looks at your finger then at the gold chains.
>Stepping off the toy chest, she opens the lid and you point to the treasure inside.
“Is that all your treasure?”
>She thinks about it for a minute, looking deeply at the toys inside the chest.
>After a while she adorably shrugs.
>”Wha, you, da da?”
>You don’t understand her and she thinks for a second, looking around.
>She spots the comically big bag of bits you won and unceremoniously hid under the coffee table.
>”Da da, you trez-er?”
>She points to the bag and asks you.
“Is that my treasure?”
>”Ya! You trez-er?”
>She asks again and you think for a second for what to say.
“No, Sweetie. That’s not my treasure.”
>”Huh? No, trez-er?”
“No that’s not my treasure.”
>You dismissively wave your hand at the huge bag of money.
>”Wha you trez-er, da da?”
“What’s my treasure?”
>You ask as you bring your face closer.”
>”Ya. Wha?”
“My treasure, is…”
>Bringing yourself closer:
“My little, Melon.”
>You kiss her on the cheek.
>She uses her hooves to point to herself with her wings excitedly stretched.
>”Me!”
“Yes, sweetheart. You’re my treasure.”
>She smiles and moves back to the chest with the fake treasure inside, looking at the gold and chains inside.
“Meme is that your treasure?”
>You ask her again.
>She thinks about it again, looking at the chest and its fake valuables.
>She gets up excitedly and shakes her head.
>”No!”
“It’s not your treasure Meme?”
>You question her.
>She hops over the toys and book with her wings spread, landing on you and wrapping herself around you.
>”You my trez-ur!”
>You hold back tears and with a quaking voice ask her.
“Me?”
>”Ya! You my trez-re! Da da my trez-er!”
>You can’t say anything else as she holds you in her warm embrace and you return it.
>After an eternity too short in heaven. She lets go, and lands on her hooves.
>She looks around and then she stands tall looking at something.
>Almost posing like the mare in the illustration, she looks over some horizon.
>Wiping a few tears from your face, you ask her.
“What are you looking at, Meme?”
>She quickly points with a hoof.
>”Trez-er!”
>You follow her wing and you end up on the chest of costumes Pinkie dropped off.
>You had once again forgotten about that, and a feeling of dread overcomes you as you turn back to Meme, who’s started moving towards the huge chest.
>Shaking your thoughts you stand up, and Meme excitedly leads you to the chest.
>”Da da! Trez-er?”
>She stands on top of the chest and taps her hooves.
>You pick her up and undo a comically oversized clasp with one hand, and lift the chest open.
>Inside is a huge assortment of costume pieces.
>It’s a large container, but the amount of things inside is still staggering.
>”Da da, toy!?”
>Meme excitedly looks at the chest of goodies.
>You kneel down and start picking stuff out of the chest.
>It’s neatly stacked to the brim with costumes of all different kinds, it’s like a wardrobe shrunk down.
>The container also has costumes that look like they’re for you and for ponies, especially foals.
>It also has pockets and storage on the underside of the lid and walls full of costume accessories.
>Meme is mesmerized by the colorful and fun looking dresses.
“Here, lets move this over there.”
>You stand up and grab a handle to drag the box and Meme flies out of your arm.
>She lands behind the chest, and begins pushing the box as you drag it.
>First with her squishy face, but she quickly uses her fore hooves to push on the box and her rear ones to push herself.
>You know she’s not doing much, but you appreciate her help.
“Cmon Meme! Push!”
>You egg her on, and she tries her hardest until the box is in your little sitting area.
“Good going meme!”
>She babbles and flies up to your chair to get a look inside the box.
>You begin pulling out layers of costumes, putting the ones that have no hope of fitting either you or her on one of your couches.
>By chance you pull out a layer of what looks like a pirate costume.
>A white shirt artificially aged, with laced collar and sleeves, with a black vest coat, and little black pantaloons.
>You look at the book still open on the ground and save for a few details, it’s close.
“Here Meme, try this.”
>Meme sees what you have and quickly hops down to you.
>You gently dress her as best as you know.
>Would a pony put her shirt or her pant on first?
>Weird question since ponies don’t normally wear much clothing.
>Either way you get her dressed, due in no small part to Meme being the best daughter in the world.
>You add the accessories from the chest, a fake sword and sheath, some belts and an eye patch.
>Meme’s caught onto what she is, and she’s more than a little excited.
>”’arrr! Trez-ur!”
>You find another eye patch that just barely fits you, and a sword.
>You raise the sword.
“Yarr to treasure, captain Meme!”
>She uses her wings to unsheathe and raise her own toy sword.
>”’arrr! Trez-ur!”
“Yo, ho, ho!”
>”Yo ho! ‘arr!”
>You pump your sword.
“Yo, ho, ho! And a bottle of rum!”
>”Yo, ho! An botle of wum!”
>Meme copies your actions and words, and you ruffle her mane.
“Alright, Captain Meme. Let’s see what other booty is in this chest.”
>You dig into the chest some more, and find a black pony-like mask with weird bug eyes and a little pointy horn.
>”Da da! Hisss!”
>Meme hisses points at the mask and hisses like a snake. Maybe a baby snake. You have no idea what it’s supposed to be.
>You put the mask on her, and she excitedly stands up on her hind legs with her forelegs raised in the air.
>”Hisss! Da’da, Hisss!”
“What are you doing, Meme?”
>She hisses a little more, having the time of her life.
>Then she goes to the open book and uses her hooves to flip the pages until she gets to one with a little black pony thing.
>The creature looks like a smaller pony but it has holes over it’s body and insect wings and eyes, with 2 menacing looking pointed fangs and a lizard tongue.
>It stands on it’s hind legs looking menacing while some ponies look afraid, and a speech bubble attached to the creature has it hissing.
“Is that you Meme?”
>”Ya! Hiss!”
>She stands on her hind legs again, though falls adorably quickly.
“Alright, Sweetheart. Don’t scare me too much now.”
>You take the mask off her, and search through the box for more stuff.
>There’s not much here that can be really scary, you remember some of the more well done Halloween costumes from home.
>No fake blood, bones and body bits either. A lot of animals snarling though, Meme doesn’t seem to be interested in them.
>You see a neat Templar helmet sized to fit you. What are the odds of that?
>It has a thin sheet metal stylized French lily riveted onto the face like a cross would be for a Templar helmet.
>A fleur de Lis, you remember. Although it looks a lot like a cross.
>The helmet itself is a thin sheet metal thing, light and wouldn’t actually offer any protection, it does look very well made.
>All the edges are smoothed and covered in thicker metal or soft fabric to prevent injury and the rivets and metal work are close and well formed.
>Not the usual cheap Walmart costumes you remember from home at all.
>You put the helmet on your coffee table and hear a thump from it.
>You lift the helmet and find a duplicate smaller helmet inside.
>A helmet perfectly sized for Meme.
>”Da da, wha’?”
>Meme points at the helmets, she can probably understand you like them.
“Wanna be a knight, Meme?”
>You ask her and start digging in the chest for more pieces.
>”Da da, wha knite?”
“A knight is a-“
>*Knock knock knock*
>A series of determined knocks, rudely interrupts you.
>Meme immediately quiets down;
>she’s learned to stay down while you’re talking to other ponies. You fear it’s not healthy for her.
“Give me a minute, Honey Melon. I’ll be back.”
>You get up and don your cloak, while Meme calmly looks at the bits of costume.
>Once again you’re reminded to put a peep hole in the door, as you slowly creek your door open.
>You spot Applejack standing outside, with her brother behind her.
>You pray you don’t have unfinished business.
>”Howdy, Anon.”
>She looks cheery and even Big Mac is smiling at you.
>”Hiya, Anon.”
“Hello, Applejack. Big Mac.”
>You answer as you usually do, and Big Mac looks nervously at his sister. A first for him as far as you know.
>”Ah well, Anon. Ah just wan’ed to congratulate ya.”
>You consider thanking her, and just letting her be on her way, but she’s not done.
>”An ah gotta thank ya fer comin’ out, an in the nick of time no less. Ain’t easy findin’ co-uh, stallions for the show. Ah know we ain’t friends or nothin’, ah’ve had a gander at yer reports, but ya earned yerself a Apple Family favor.”
“Thank you, Applejack.”
>Responding flatly, Big Mac looking at you awkwardly through the whole thing.
>He looks back to his sister once she’s done, like he wants her to speak to him.
>”An, uh, we where hopin’ ya would stick around. Everypony loved yer performance, the stallion hoof wrestle’s always a hoot. Last event for an apple family reunion. Best fer last an’ all. An’ ponies from near and far love it.”
>She seems like she’s rambling a little, and Big Mac gently jabs her.
>”Anyway, Anon. ‘Mac here wanted ta say somethin’. Ah’ll just leave y’all guys alone.”
>She steps away, and Big Mac looks at you nervously.
>You have no idea what’s going on anymore, and you should probably say something with Meme being alone and all.
>”Hiya Anon.”
>Lord, this guy’s more awkward than you. You better just play along, hopefully things stay good. And decent.
“Hello, Big Mac.”
>”Y-ya can call me ‘Mac.”
“Alright.”
>Actually you may be no better than him.
>”A-ah just wanted ta make sure ya where OK. Ah know the mares get rowdy an’ miss, uh… Things.”
>You’re not sure what he’s on about, although you where sure he didn’t exactly like you yesterday.
“I’m alright. Thank you for asking.”
>”Ah, uh, well that’s good tah know then. Ah-Uh, also wanted ta make sure ya caught it was all fun’n’games. Ah-an there no hard feelin’s?”
“None on my end.”
>He sighs and looks relieved, you didn’t think he put that much weight into what you thought of him.
>”Good tah know. N-none on my end either, partner.”
>Applejack walks back over.
>”Good tah see ya two sorted it out then. Even ah was sure ya had it in fer ‘Mac with how you good ya got him.”
>Mac looks nervously away, then raises and eyes a bandaged hoof.
>”Eeyup.”
“Sorry.”
>”Don’t be! We know ya din’t mean tah hurt ‘Mac. ‘Sides ya earned yer keep.”
>None of you know where to go from that, and you three look at each other awkwardly.
>”Anyway, Anon. Thanks fer yer time, yer welcome at our farm anytime.”
>”Eeyup.”
“Thank you.”
>You curtly respond and close your door as the ponies turn around.
>”It’s no use… Ah’m just gonna have ta fill the same report, again.”
>Big Mac doesn’t sound too cheery. As far as you know he’s a bit of a shut in.
>But then again. So are you.
>”Don’ say that! Mac ah’ll find ya somepony, or ah ain’t no element!”
>”Anon’s the last pony left, an he ain’t even a pony.”
>You don’t know what he’s on about, and why those two really came to you, but that’s a problem they can deal with.
>You have your own angel to worry about.
>Speaking of her, she’s managed to find the matching components of the knight costume.
“Sorry for the wait, Lady Meme.”
>”Da da! Knite?”
>She eagerly holds up the chain mail shirt to you, in her mouth. on a closer look, it’s made of a fiber woven to look like chain.
>You take the armor from her, and put it over your undershirt. It’s an almost perfect fit.
>The shirt has long sleeves a hood and dangles down to almost your knees looks like it was designed that way.
>You look through the chest and find the matching pair of thin metal leg wear, gauntlet and boots.
>You also pick out the parts for your little Templar, and hand them over, which she excitedly takes repeating ‘knight’.
“I think that’s the last of it, Lady Meme.”
>You help Meme wear her armor, and she looks more excited than ever.
>”Da da! Knite!”
>She happily proclaims as she nudges parts of your costume towards you.
>Putting on the last bits of your costume, Meme hops over to another book open on the ground.
>Another children book. She’s turned it to a page with a mare wearing full knight armor.
>Although not like the kind you’re wearing, Meme’s obviously understood the connection.
>You put on the last of your armor minus helmet, but you feel something is missing.
>Meme brings the book over to you.
>”Da da, wha?”
>She points to the knight pony holding a sword in her mouth.
“That’s a sword, sweetheart.”
>”Sord?”
>She repeats almost perfectly after you.
>”Da da, sord?!”
>She excitedly looks in the box for a knight’s sword, and you follow her.
>Quickly you two spot a pair of shields with fleur de Lis on them, with swords sticking out from behind.
>You remove the swords and shields and by chance see the piece you thought you where missing.
>A pair of off-white tunics with the same golden lily as the shields.
>You’re almost as excited as she is, as the two of you put on the final bits of your armor.
>Finally you put Memes helmet on, and then yours.
“Greetings, Lady Meme!”
>”Hi, Lady Da da!”
>You giggle at her innocent mistake.
“No silly. I’m a SIR!”
>”Sir?”
“Yes, sweetheart. A ma-, stallion or colt like me is a Sir. And a mare or filly like you is a lady.”
>You explain her the difference, and you’re not sure how much she understands.
>Although she understands enough.
>”Sir Da da!”
>She excitedly says.
“Yes Lady Meme? Where are we going for our next adventure?”
>”Uhh! Come!”
>She says to you and she quickly trots over to the stairwell and begins climbing.
>Putting her front hooves on the next step and then using her rear hooves to push herself, along with help from her little wings.
>You stay in tow behind her ready to catch her, until you reach the top floor.
>She leads you to your room.
>Inside Meme unsheathes her sword and charges at one of your pillows which is standing upright against your headrest.
“Fight the monster, Meme!”
>”Ya! Da da! Fite munst-er!”
>She swings at the imaginary creature holding her sword in her wings. And you join in, taking gentle swings with your own sword.
>Eventually the make belief creature falls off the bed, and Meme excitedly cheers.
“We did it Lady Meme! Deus Vult!”
>You raise your sword in the air in celebration and Meme follows.
>”Ya! Sir Dada, no munst-er! Dez vult!”
>She excitedly proclaims.
>You try to catch yourself getting too excited. You’re supposed to be the grown up here.
>But she makes you forget that soon.
>And the two of you go on another big adventure in your little home.
--------------------------------------------------------
>You run a gentle hand over your Lady Knight as she happily sleeps.
>Little angel tuckered herself out playing with you.
>You want to take her upstairs and go to bed, but something doesn’t feel right.
>Cautiously scanning your room, you pull your angel higher up on your shoulder.
>Your ears are pealed for any more strange noises.
>You hear thumping on and off around the house, like someone -or pony- is on your roof. And walls?
>Knowing your reputation, that may well be the case. Though your paranoia might be getting the better of you.
>*THUMP* *THUMP *THUMP* *THUMP*
>There it is again, your head swivels around to follow the noise. Your weathered creaky house is helpful.
>A louder than normal thump makes Meme stir in her sleep.
>It may just be the rough wind tonight, and your lonely paranoia is getting the better of you.
>But you’re worried. Maybe someone knows about the money you won. Not that you care about the money; you’ve got exactly one thing to lose.
>And you’re not letting a single thing get between you and her.
>Thankfully the kitchen is a fairly safe room, it’s the only one with a window grill.
>But you can’t let whatever is out there come to you, Meme might get hurt.
>Time to be a man and take care of whatever is threatening your home.
>Standing up, you cautiously go to a closet just outside the kitchen.
>It’s full of just assorted storage, but it has a few towels you use for the kitchen, and some assorted bolts of cloth. Including an incredibly soft bolt of some furry material, it feels like a sheep skin fur blanket from home.
>You pull it out and bring it back to the kitchen, keeping on your toes for any other sounds.
>The dining table will have to be Memes bad until you get back, but you’re gonna make it the most comfortable it can be.
>She doesn’t want to let go of you, but with some gentle coaxing she does.
>You lay her on the bedding you made, and gently rub her to make sure she’s comfortable.
>The little angel has never given you trouble sleeping and like usual she happily sleeps alone.
>Now that Meme is hopefully safe, you gotta go take care of whatever is at your door. You don’t have a purpose built weapon, but you have a fair selection of tools.
>And now that you’re looking at them you’re not sure which is a good makeshift weapon. You where warned about this, not being sure what to kill your intruder with.
>You opt to use your rusty beater knife.
>It’s got a point, you’ve filed it sharp and it’s so rusty just looking at it would give someone tetanus.
>You almost laugh catching yourself being your old self.
>But you grab the blade, and put your cloak on over what’s left of your knight costume. Though you make sure to grab the shield.
>It may be less than a quarter inch of wood, but it’s something that isn’t your arm.
>Looking like some cheap haunted house prop, you walk through your dark home.
>The wind picked up, muffling any sound of a would be burglar.
>You swear you spot something quickly move up past your living room window.
>You tip toe upstairs, staying behind your toy shield. Almost excited.
>*THUMP* *THUMP *THUMP* *THUMP*
>There it is again, whatever it is.
>It’s right above you, and you can hear quieter thumps as whatever it is tries to move around.
>Your intruder slowly thumps over to one side of the hallway that ends in a window.
>A rope of messy something falls down and you see a silhouette of a pony like creature lower down.
>The thing must have spotted you, because it darts up several times faster than it came down.
>It couldn’t have been a pony, whatever it was had some strange protrusions on it from the brief look you got at it.
>You hear fast heavy thumps on the roof again, and you spot the creatures unwittingly standing right at the edge of your skylight.
>It’s not completely in view, but the creature is starting to look a lot more like a pony, but its features are obscured by a dark skin and the night.
>Maybe it’s just one of the creatures, you fear there’s two or more of them.
>Slowly you move past the skylight to the roof access, your soft feet are much quieter than the thumping ones of whatever it is.
>It stands hovering over your skylight, struggling to see past the tinted glass.
>It’s mess of mane is visible but no other feature.
>A particularly strong gust of wind begins to blow and you take your chance to set up your roof access ladder.
>The roof is short even after the work you’ve done to it, so climbing up takes only a few steps.
>Undoing the hatch lock, you rest your hand on it, knife in other hand and pause.
>What are you actually gonna do if you get the drop on it? Stab it? Is that gonna go down well with the ponies?
>Maybe just scare it off, you’re already scary enough and you have a big rusty knife.
>You try to gently open the hatch, but the thing catches a gust of wind and claims it’s freedom from you.
>*SLAM*
>The hatch smashes against your roof and you hear a yell you recognize.
>In a flash, the intruder falls through your skylight.
>Stunned and surrounded by broken glass.
>It’s a pony, and it’s one you know, wearing some silly looking ninja suit.
>Her cotton candy like tail, and messy hair gives her away even behind her mask and strange goggles.
>You hop off the ladder.
“Pinkie, what in god’s name are you doing?”
>You let anger ring in your voice, and the mare hears it.
>She managed to land facing you and looks at you like a deer caught in headlights.
>The temperature in your house quickly drops and the wind howls inside from the broken glass.
>You open your mouth to scold her some more.
>”Munst-er!”
>Your heart almost stops.
>The commotion woke Meme, and she’s come up the stairs holding her little sword.
>Pinkie’s face and eyes go wide in excitement.
>”Go! Munst-er go!”
>She stamps her hooves sword unsheathed, standing between you and the intruder.
>You shake your head defeated and put your wicked knife on a side table, your worst fears realized, but you don’t feel panicked.
>The cuckoo mare opens her mouth looking shocked as ever.
>”Fite Munst-er, Da da!? Dez vult!”
>She stands in front guarding you offering you to join her fight.
>You can’t help but smile, and bend down picking her up.
>”Da da! No, munsters!”
>She tries to resist you keeping her sword pointed at the ‘munster’.
“She’s not a monster, sweetie.”
>The pony hasn’t recovered from her shock enough to say a word.
>You walk over to Pinkie, leaning over a minefield of broken glass.
>Her suit somewhat protected her, but you can clearly see some trickles of red from her.
>Almost whispering in a monotone voice.
“C’mon Pinkie. You’re hurt.”
>You’ve never picked up a full grown pony, but nevertheless you lift her by her backpack over the dangerous ground.
>She’s light and doesn’t resist as you carry her through your little home, and drop her on a dining chair.
“Get out of that ridiculous suit.”
>The pony complies and begins to strip her costume.
>Meme jumps down on the dining room table, and puts her sword and shield down.
>You eye her as you get a few bandages and some alcohol. 
>She looks dashing in that costume, her long baby hair flows freely down the silver-grey and white armor, and her face is as stern as any guard you’ve seen.
>Pinkie keeps staring at Meme, who gives her an untrusting gaze you’ve never seen.
>”Anon I-I-“
“Shut up.”
>Your mind is too overwhelmed right now to listen to what the mare has to say, and she doesn’t really know what to say.
>Meme follows you as you get close to Pinkie and do your work.
>While you work she doesn’t let you or the mare out of her gaze, she stands guard over your shoulder.
>You walk around and take a seat opposite to Pinkie.
>Meme hops up on your chest, and gives you a hug, hanging on.
>You kiss her cheek.
“What where you thinking?”
>You begin interrogating the mare in a dull tone.
>”I-I… I don’t know…”
>She looks away nervously, blushing.
>”I-I was too excited-“
“Because you wanted to see the baby.”
>You complete her missing sentence, and she nods ashamed in response.
“Well you’ve seen her. Now what?”
>Pinkie looks up unsure, and eyes your angel holding you.
>You don’t have the heart to stay mad with the mare for long. Especially when she has a smile like that on her face.
>Not her usual fun partying smile. A little smile.
>The kind of smile you have when you watch Meme play.
>She slowly moves off the chair and begins rounding the table in an attempt to get closer to her goal.
>”NO! GO!”
>Meme quickly turned around and is starting daggers at the Pink mare.
>Pinkie recoils at the little fillies rage.
>”Go, Avay!”
>You’ve never seen her this angry.
>She’s protective, her wings are trying to wrap you and she’s not letting Pinkie get any closer.
“Sweetheart, Pinkie’s a friend.”
>”Fren?”
>Meme looks at you unsure, then shakes her head.
>”No, no Da da! Muns-ter.”
>She holds your face to look into your eyes with her little hooves and explains to you.
>You kiss her and repeat yourself to her.
“She’s not a monster. She’s a friend.”
>”Hi. I’m Pinkie Pie.”
>Pinkie speaks in a voice too soft and gentle to be from her.
>You put Meme on the table, and she sits down looking at Pinkie untrustingly, though not angry anymore.
“Her name is Melon Medley. I call her Meme.”
>Running a hand over Meme, Pinkie gets close and leans on top of the table with her hooves.
>”Hi Melon. Can I call you Meme?”
>Meme looks at you unsure, but then responds annoyed.
>”No!”
>”Ok. Can I call you Melon?”
>She looks away again unsure, and responds unhappy but not as annoyed.
>”Ok.”
>”Thank you, Melon. You can call me Pinkie.”
>You don’t want to think it, but Pinkie has an almost motherly voice.
>The bombastic party mare is far away from the one in front of you.
>”Pee-ink-ey?”
>Meme tries to say her name.
>”Yes that’s i-“
>”PONKA!”
>Meme bursts out laughing at herself, and you can’t help but giggle.
>Pinkie looks over to you with her face of annoyance betrayed by a smile, and you give her a shrug through your cloak.
>”Pinkie!”
>Pinkie repeats.
>”Ponka!”
>Meme responds.
>”PINK! EEEEE!”
>She tries again.
>”PONK! KAAH!”
>Pinkie wields a face of fake anger; you can tell she’s trying not to laugh.
>She gets nose to nose with Meme.
>”Melon is a silly! Filly!”
>Meme recoils and gasps.
>She looks at you with annoyance. Adorable annoyance, but annoyance none the less.
>Meme looks back at Pinkie who smiles a sweet smug smile at her.
>”No! U!”
>She points at Pinkie with her hoof, and you can see the moment Pinkie’s heart melt.
>Pinkie quickly moves in and hugs your angel.
>”Oh I’m sorry! Melon is a cutesy wutesy wittle fiwwy.”
>Pinkie speaks in a baby voice you didn’t know she had, gently rubbing her nose on Memes cheek.
>She moves away looking at Meme with a playful face and you swear moist eyes.
>”Can we be friends, Melon?”
>Meme Looks at you, and then moves away from Pinkie.
>Pinkie looks up with sad eyes, as Meme leaves her.
>Her mane deflates a little, she blushes and her eyes look away at the table.
>Meme hops up with her wings to your shoulder, and pokes your cheek with her tiny hoof.
>”Da da.”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
>She gets close as if she’s trying to covertly talk to you.
>”Ponka, fren?”
>She questions in her adorable baby speech, and points a hoof at the mare.
>The Pink mares ears swivel and she eyes you with a hopeful eye.
“Yes, Melon. Pinkie is a friend.”
>Meme satisfied with your answer hops back onto the table, and trots a bouncy trot to Pinkie.
>Pinkie smiles a hopeful smile and looks up at the little filly with gentle eyes.
>Meme wraps her tiny hooves around Pinkies face though you notice some apprehension, and Pinkie gently returns the hug.
>The Pink mare’s eyes closed and you swear there’s a little bit of water on her eyelids.
>”OK. Ponka, fren.”
--------------------------------------------------------
>You’ve been working on the habit, but you slept in a little.
>Though in fairness you had to pick up glass and patch the hole in your roof.
>Pinkie offered to help, but you sent her on her way.
>But not before making sure she ‘pinkie promised’ to not tell anyone about Meme.
>Your angel didn’t get to sleep at her time either, and she’s still happily napping.
>In the meantime you’re trying out some recipes for baby food you read about.
>You really wish for some meat for yourself, but you’ve really gotten good at cooking. Especially adding flavor to otherwise boring meals.
>That and instant noodles don’t exist here, and eating out isn’t cheap. Besides, cooking is one of the few things you can do without going outside.
>Now you have someone else to try and treat to a meal, so that’s all the more reason to try your best.
>It’s been a lazy day, a welcomed lazy day.
>You got your exercise done. And other than that Rainbow pony trying to spy on you through the window, it’s been a calm day.
>Speaking of her, you should probably ask her what she’s trying to do.
>She’s not exactly doing a good job of hiding herself, but she’s doing enough for you to not worry about her seeing you.
>But she’s not bothering you and Meme is asleep, so maybe you’ll just let her be.
>You take the attempted apple pudding off the stove, and set it aside.
>The book has good descriptions but no pictures.
>But it definitely smells good.
>You wipe some of the pudding on the stirring spoon and taste it.
>It tastes good so you’ll call it a mission accomplished, though you’re not sure what it’s supposed to taste like.
>You wash your hands and realize the kitchen water tank is running low.
>One of the good things about this house is your own well, but you gotta go outside and pump it.
>You consider leaving it for later, but the weather is nice, and Meme is still asleep.
>Donning your signature cloak, you grab a pair of buckets and step outside.
>A rainbow zips across the sky into a cloud, you pay it no mind and walk to your well.
>The old thing didn’t see much use until you got here, but it works every time. Heavy though, and your body is a little sore, but you manage.
>A cloud with two eyes moves close to you until it’s right above you.
>You snap up and look right at the eyes, and they disappear.
>You smirk.
“Hello Rainbow.”
>The cloud shakes, she heard but you don’t get a response.
>You carry on working and the eyes in the cloud return, though you don’t focus on them.
“Where I’m from, it’s not nice to spy on people.”
>The eyes disappear again, and the cloud shakes. But you pay it no mind since your work is done.
>You say a goodbye you’re sure the cloud hears, and then make your way inside.
>You do your work, and then eye the cloud outside as you make your way upstairs.
>The bed is next to the window but low and to the side enough to be out of sight.
>On the bed, your angel peacefully sleeps curled up in a ball.
>You take a seat on the bed, and gently caress her delicate belly.
>A little peaceful smile forms on her face, and she tightens her ball to trap your hand.
>You feel her gentle heartbeat through her soft chest.
>Her calm pulse and gentle breathing is music in it’s own right.
>She’ll be awake soon, you can tell. And as much as you want to stay here, you have work to do.
>You take your hand away and you quickly see the smile fade from her face.
>But in exchange you give her a peck on her head, and quickly get up before you change your mind.
>Downstairs you have the pieces of a shelf and chest you finally got around to building.
>Meme’s collection of toys and books has outgrown the pile and stack.
>Besides, you sized it to be her size and it’s going to be adorable.
>You begin assembling the pieces, screwing together parts of the shelf.
>It’s times like this you miss your fatmax, hard wood, soft wood, there wasn’t a screw that thing wouldn’t turn.
>Granted it was loud, and you could be using nails, but all the nails you have are too thick for this wood. And effort makes it all that more special.
>And with effort the shelf is taking shape.
>It’s standing on it’s own now, and you just need to install the runners and shelves.
>The little thing barely passes your knee, but plenty for Meme.
>Speaking of, angel woke up.
>You can hear her little steps echoing upstairs, and you walk to the stairwell.
>Sure enough she’s taking sleepy steps on the way to the stairs, as you climb up.
>”Da da.”
>She says with a pouty face.
“Good morning, Princess. Something wrong?”
>”Ya. Da da, ouchy ouchy. Aaaaah!”
>She points to the source of the ‘ouchy’.
>She’s been teething, and faster than any of the books said she would. The pain gets to her, especially in the mornings.
“Aww, c’mon daddy will fix that. Wanna ride, Meme?”
>”Yea! Da da! Up up!”
>The tough cookie, gets excited and ignores the pain at the suggestion of ‘ups’.
>She points her fore hooves at you and bounces on her hind legs, egging you to lift her up.
>”Da da! Up!”
>You listen to her command and bend down to take her into your arms, and she gives you a little hug.
>Quickly you take her to the washroom for her morning routine.
>Brushing her 4 little teeth, you see the tops of a few more.
>Taking off her diaper, and washing her off.
>She doesn’t need to wear diapers except for when you’re outside or she’s napping, and she’s glad to be out of it.
>The two of you head to the kitchen, and you put her on the dining table.
>The cloud is gone, and with it your fears.
>The apple pudding you made is still a little warm, and the books said that warm food can make teething pain worst.
>Most foods are seasonal and with the only refrigeration being a larder, you can’t keep much prepared food on hand.
>Back home all you would have to do is put some pudding in the freezer and it would be perfect for her aching teeth.
>Luckily apples, pears and a few other fruits are always on hand.
>You opt for a pear, and begin cutting it.
>You give meme a slice to chew on instead of her hoof. To hold her over until you finish the pearsuace. Or is it a puree?
>She chews the soft cool fruit, as you work on mashing the rest of it.
>You present the food to Meme, and take a seat to feed her with a little silver tea spoon.
>The simple food always makes you feel like you’re not putting enough effort into the meals you give to her. But Meme happily eats your offering without complaint.
>You’ve never even used the bib you bought, she’s just never needed it.
>Sometimes she likes to fiddle with a toy or your keys while you feed her. Her favorites are the buttons.
>She holds the cool soft fruit mash in her mouth to sooth her aching gums. And when she’s ready she simply opens her mouth.
>No coaxing, no airplanes. And she quickly finishes her breakfast.
>”Aaah.”
“All done!”
>”Oh?”
“Are you still hungry?”
>She does her adorable thinking face with an open mouth smile and her eyes look around the room.
>”No.”
>She snapply replies and shakes her head.
“Wanna go play with your toys?”
>The cool fruit usually cures her tooth aches. at least for a few hours, she lets you know if it hurts again.
“Wanna go pway with choo choo twain and gwears?”
>”Ya! Gwears da da, gwears!”
>She excitedly gets up, and spreads her wings ready to fly.
>You quickly hold her.
“Meme.”
>”Ya?”
>You get her attention.
“Flying in the kitchen?”
>You ask her in your ‘serious’ voice, and she understands.
>”No no! Sowwy.”
>There’s too many fragile things, not to mention the still hot iron stove.
“It’s OK darling. Wanna walk?”
>”Da da, up?”
>She asks you, and you comply.
>Walking her to the living room, where her soon to be shelf and chest are still in pieces.
>You drop her in her little playing area, and she quickly gets up and gets her ‘gwears’ and some other toys and happily plays with them.
>You sit down closely adding the finishing touches to her shelf.
>It’s looking good. It’s got heft, but that’s because it’s made of proper wood planks not just pressboard.
>You’re proud of your work, and you pick it up and take it over to Memes place.
>”Da da! Hi!”
>She excitedly says.
>You’re not sure what she’s doing, but the string on her trainset train is wrapped around the other toy.
“Meme, I made you a shelf for your books.”
>”Buk? Da da stowy?”
>She excitedly asks. She loves when you read to her. She likes to lie on your chest and look at the pictures while you read.
“Shelf, Sweetie. You can keep your books on it.”
>You set it down in a good looking spot next to where her books are stacked.
>Picking up the first book in the stack, you put the book on the shelf, spine facing out.
“See, Meme?”
>”Hmm? Buk? Shef?”
“Yes Sweetie, a bookshelf! For your books!”
>You excitedly say as you slide another book onto the shelf.
>”Oh!”
>She quickly follows you.
>Placing books on the shelf, some with spines facing right some without.
>She recognizes a big picture book is too tall for the shelf.
>Quickly she lays the book on the shelf instead, sliding it far from the other books.
>You’re sure she’ll figure this out, so you walk back to the chest and begin working on it.
>The chest isn’t huge, but it’s bigger than the shelf.
>Quickly you find holding the planks while you screw them to be a challenge. You weren’t born with enough hands it seems.
>”Da da?”
>Your angel curiously looks at you.
>Granted you probably look ridiculous with your plank and screwdriver contortions.
“You finished, honey Melon?”
>”Ya! Wha Dada do?”
>She asks and pokes at the wood planks on the floor.
“I’m making a chest for you, Meme.”
>She excitedly turns her head, and raises her wings.
>”Chest! Da da! Trez-ur chest!”
>She excitedly bounces, repeating ‘trez-er chest’
“Yea, sweetie! A treasure chest!”
>You play along with her excitement, and continue struggling with the wood and screws.
>While you’re distracted, Meme sneaks up and supports the panel you’re struggling with.
>Her little strength is a big help as you finally manage to pass the screw through.
“Thank you, Meme. Wanna help daddy?”
>”Ya! Da da, Meme hewp!”
>And she’s true to her word, as she helps you hold up another wooden panel.
>And then another, and another. And then she holds the hinges and the lid and soon, the only thing left is attaching the latch to Memes treasure chest, which you quickly screw in.
“Does it look good Meme?”
>”Ya! Da da, trez-ur chest?”
>You can tell she thinks something’s off, and you have the feeling too.
>Meme hops back to her little play place with purpose, while you look at the chest.
>It’s like it’s missing something. Something to make it a proper treasure chest.
>Meme solves the mystery by bringing you her little toy chest.
>”Da da! Trez-ur chest!”
>She points at the dark grey paint masquerading as metal banding, and you experience a moment of brilliance.
“That’s exactly what we need! Wait here Meme.”
>As excitedly as Meme you rush to the kitchen and return with a roll of tin foil and a pair of scissors
>The stuff isn’t cheap, but it’s going to look perfect.
>And it does.
>The low profile screws look great holding down the tin foil banding, and Meme agrees.
>She excitedly flies around and on the box, exclaiming ‘tres-ur chest’ and giggling.
>She follows you as you take it next to her newly organized shelf, and begin gently placing toys in it.
>”Da da! Trez-ur chest.”
>She flies up and sits on the chest lip, holding her little treasure chest to you and adorably laughing to herself.
>”Trez-ur chest.”
>She says again, and puts her toy chest into her new big chest.
>”Trez-ur chest!”
>She exclaims and laughs her adorable head at the comedy.
>You laugh along with her as the two of you continue filling the box.
>She flies up and drops her belongings into the box somewhat sorting as she goes, and you bring her toys closer to one place.
>Reaching for a toy and-
>*BANG*
>You’re startled and Meme quickly quiets down at the loud bang.
>Sounds like something really hit your door with some speed-
>*BANG*
>Someone wants in your house, and they’re not taking no for an answer.
>You thank whatever insanity overcame you to overbuild that thing.
>Meme nervously sits next to her chest, Holding her little train close to her.
“I’ll be back, darling.”
>You whisper to her.
>She looks scared. You’ve never seen her like this. at least not since you met her. It’s like she feels like something’s wrong.
>You get up, don your cloak and prepare to meet who or whatever dares disturb your home.
>Peaking around the curtains you see a town guard pony walking around your house.
>You swallow a lump and head for the door.
>Surely this is a misunderstanding, or an unrelated event.
>Pinkie made a promise. A pinkie promise.
>Didn’t she?
>You gently open your door just enough to see an officer and for her to see you.
>”Open up! We know you have an abducted foal!”
>Your heart stops.
--------------------------------------------------------
>This can’t be happening.
>Who could have? Was it Pinkie? She said she wouldn’t, she promised she wouldn’t. Would she? Was it another pony? Who else could it be? Who else knows?
>Your mind just wants to make sense of this. You just can’t accept it, this isn’t happening.
>But accept it or not, there’s a guardspony looking sternly at you through the cracked door, and you heard what she said.
>”Open this door!”
>Without another thought, you slam the door closed and move as quickly as you can to your angel.
>The gaurdpony continues their attack on your door, but you ignore it as you reach Meme.
>She sees your worry and nervously looks back at you.
>With shaking hands you scoop her off the ground, and hold her as close to your heart as you can. You don’t want this to be the last time you do, but it may well be.
>She has a few tears in her eyes and she buries her face into your chest. Somehow she knows what’s going on.
>What do you do? There’s nopony to call for help, there’s nowhere to run. Your little home was your only safe place.
>The door bursts open, and gaurdponies quickly pour through. You had forgotten to lock the door in your panic.
>They quickly trample through your house, surrounding you and cut any chances of escape you have. Not that you had any.
>”Give up the foal!”
>The lead mare barks at you, as more gaurds invade your home.
>Golden ponies stomp into your living room, an armored shoe crushes a little paper crane you made for meme.
>Memes safe little playground, turned into a battlefield, and all you can do is retreat.
>Meme clutches you tighter and you do the same hoping you can just hold on until this blows over.
>”All might be forgiven! Madpony, surrender!”
>You take a few more steps back, but there’s nowhere to go. Your cloak is all you have between Meme and them and the gaurdpony is getting closer.
>You think of something. Anything. Someway to bargain with them, something to reason with. But your mind draws blanks.
>In another life you might have a rifle aimed at them, just like you practiced. In another time you might have used some slick words to talk them down. Maybe in another life, none of this would have even happened.
>But in this life, this is the end. Another loss.
>Just like the rest of this world, your little home has turned into another prison.
>The guardpony steps closer and closer. She’s cautious, but she’s got you backed against a wall, and she knows it.
>Even if you could fight back, you’d just be putting your angel in danger.
>”Surrender the foal! I won’t ask again!”
>She barks once more.
>You grit your teeth, and you see another tear drop into your cloak.
>Meme looks up at you, her big blue eyes comforting you, like it’s all gonna be okay.
>There’s nothing left to do. You should hand her over, you know she won’t want to go, but you can’t risk hurting her.
>But you can’t. Whatever your mind wants, it has no say in the matter, your heart won’t let you give up those blue eyes.
>But there’s nothing you can do. There’s no escape. Nothing you can think to do. Except one.
>Something you haven’t done for so many years. It never seemed to work anyway, but in this desperation you’re willing to try anything.
>You close your wet eyes.
>And pray.
>To who? You don’t know, anyone who will listen.
>Tears streaming down your face, you beg through gritted teeth.
>Beg for whoever sent your angel to not take her away.
>All you can do is plead and hope that someone, something, anyone, anything listens to your quiet plea.
>But you can hear the guard getting closer, you feel hooves inching closer to you.
>Another two set of hooves quickly stomp onto your porch and into your room, a hoof grabs your leg and you hold your breath.
>”Stop!”
>You welcome the familiar voice in your hour and open your eyes.
>”As the princess of friendship. I order every gaurdpony to stand down!”
>A stern Twilight stands at your door, next to a worried Pinkie.
>Pinkie’s eyes stay locked on you and you return her gaze through your cloak.
>The guards all step back; their lead gives you a dirty look before taking her hooves off you.
>She moves quickly.
>”Princess, with all due respect. This stallion is in possession of an abducted filly.”
>”I am aware of the charge, officer. However, there has been a misunderstanding.”
>”Misunderstanding? What do you mean Princess Twilight?”
>”The foal is not abducted. Anonymous adopted her, the paperwork is simply delayed.”
>Twilight continues talking to the guard and you close your eyes thanking whoever or whatever answered your prayer.
>Taking a deep breath you look down at your angel, who looks up at you with wet eyes.
>She was crying, but didn’t make a noise. You smile down at her, and she hugs you again with a babble only you hear.
>”…I understand Princess. My apologies-”
>”I’m not who you should be apologizing to.”
>”Of course.”
>The guardpony walks close to you again, making Meme hold you tighter.
>She looks at you with as blank a look as she can manage. You’re thankful for your hood keeping you hidden.
>”My apologies sir. If you wish to file a formal complaint, my name is Garrison Shield…”
>She looks away unsure.
>She stands still waiting for a reply, which you do not give her. she walks away.
>”Thank you, and apologies once again. Good day.”
>You lean against the wall relieved, and thankful. The gaurdspony quickly leave your home and Twilight watches them.
>You slide down the wall and sit. Letting Meme higher up to give her a peck.
>She wraps all her hooves around your face, quietly babbling something. She’s shaking almost as bad as you. 
>You turn your attention to some gentle hoofsteps getting closer, and see Pinkie sit close to you.
>Meme gives her a wary look, and babbles something to you about ‘Ponka’ making you smile.
>Pinkie stares at the ground, occasionally peeking up at you.
>Taking a moment to let your tears dry, you take a few deep breaths to ease your heart.
“Hello Pinkie.”
>Not wanting to be rude to your saviour, you blankly say.
>You see a drop fall from her nose, and she slides a little closer.
>”I’m sorry Anon…”
>She looks up at you with teary eyes and the saddest face you’ve seen from her.
>”I broke a Pinkie Promise. I had to… No… I’m sorry.”
>Guess that answers that. She was the one who caused this. You didn’t want to think that, but here she admits herself.
>Should you forgive her? You want to, after all she probably told Twilight too. She saved you, even if she doomed you.
>And besides, how far has being bitter gotten you? This isn’t home, things are different here.
>Forgiveness is earned, that’s the same anywhere. But maybe she’ll earn it in time if you give her the chance.
“It’s OK Pinkie.”
>Pinkie looks up again with teary eyes, her face is thankful if sad.
>There’s a happiness and fulfillment in being nicer than needed. Maybe that’s what Twilight tries to get to you with her lessons.
>Her lessons didn’t make you like this though, that’s all your angels blessings.
“Meme, say hi to Pinkie.”
>Pinkie smiles and wipes a few tears from her eyes.
>”Hi Melon.”
>She waves a little, and you know Meme sees her through your cloak.
>Meme doesn’t say anything. She looks up at you, and babbles something you understand.
“C’mon, honey Melon. Say hi.”
>“No.”
>She snappily replies shaking her head with a pouty face.
“Just a little hi? Pinkie is our friend.”
>She shakes her head again.
>You take her out of the cloak a little, to maybe coax her into saying something.
>But she’s not nervous like you thought. She stares right at Pinkie with an angry pout.
>”Hello Melon.”
>Pinkie tries again, but the only response she gets is Meme sticking her tongue out.
>The mare giggles with a slight blush, and even you can’t help smile at your angel’s antics.
“Meme, that’s not nice.”
>”Anonymous.”
>A guard stallion speaks loudly interrupting you.
>”Princess Twilight claims that you have adopted the filly. However, the law requires you to be evaluated as an unwed father.”
>Twilight rolls her eyes while the stallion barks at you.
>”The law also states ‘a stallion cannot raise a foal- especially a filly- alone, and requires a mare be present until the child has received her cutie mark’.”
>You’re not sure what exactly the stallion means, and you don’t know how you’re going to find a mare on such a short notice.
>You’re practically a shut in. You can’t find a friend, let alone a wife…
>”We have scheduled your review. In two weeks from today, an officer of the law will observe you in your home, and you must show that you are a capable father. A mare must be present for this review. Any questions?”
>Several. But you don’t know where to begin, not in your current state.
>He pauses for a moment and looks at Twilight, Pinkie and finally Meme, who has no qualms with showing her distaste.
>”Young lady, showing distaste to an officer is improper. You should be respectful.”
>The officer barks, and without hesitation Meme barks right back at the officer.
>”No.”
>Twilight and Pinkie both try to hide their giggles, and even you bite your lip nervously smiling.
>”I will make a note of your behaviour. As for you, sir. You have two weeks to prepare. Good day.”
>Without another word, he stomps away with an air of superiority.
>Twi rolls her eyes once again, and uses her magic to close the door behind the stallion.
>”Stallions I swear…”
>She comments and Pinkie harshly nudges her.
>She nervously smiles at you.
>”H-hello. Anon.”
“Hi.”
>As monotone as you are, you’re honestly thankful to the mare. She was no friend of yours, but she saved you. You’d hug her, but that would probably be ‘improper’.
>You swallow a lump, to try and clear your voice.
>She diverts her attention to Meme and waves, who looks at her less harshly.
>”Hello, umm…”
“Melon Medley. I call her Meme.”
>”Hello, Melon. I am Princess Twilight Sparkle.”
>Twilight smiles an honest smile at her.
“Say hi, Meme.”
>She grumbles not letting either pony out of her eyes.
“Sorry, she’s a little shy.”
>”She’s adorable.”
>She comments. And you have a sudden moment of embarrassment.
>You’re slumped against a wall behind a couch while the ponies stand over you.
>Standing up, you talk slowly to maintain composure.
“Sorry, Twilight. You guys rarely come over, let me get you something.”
>”Oh no, Anonymous. No need for the trouble.”
>It takes a second for you to think of what to do. It’s been ages since you’ve had a guest.
>And by ages: never.
“I insist. Please come to the kitchen, I’ll put some tea on.”
>The ponies look at each other, and back to you smiling.
>The four of you move to your little kitchen, and you offer the ponies seats and get to work.
>Meme doesn’t want to let go, you work slowly and carefully on the tea and whatever else works with it. The ponies talk to you.
>It’s nice just having someone speaking while you work.
>By the lord, you missed simple things like this.
>”…When Pinkie told me you adopted a filly, I didn’t believe her…”
>Tea was never your thing back home, but neither was coffee. Tea is much cheaper here so you’ve got a taste.
>”…Anyway, it’s unfortunate somepony reported you. We don’t know who, but it won’t happen again…”
>You lay the tea and other things on the table, before taking your own cup and seat.
>”…You know what to do. Could you please come to the castle tomorrow? Paper work and all that.”
>She stops talking, and takes a sip of her tea. Pinkie and Meme are busy looking at one another, one smiling and the other staring daggers.
>”This tea is wonderful, Anon.”
“Thank you… I had a question about the review.”
>”It’s the part about a mare isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
>You answer plainly but the princess understands your concern.
>”It’s a formality mostly, it’s changed a lot, but a mare must watch over a stallion who has a foal. Visit once a week sort of thing. You don’t need to marry or anything…”
>That was the part you wanted to hear. Finding a friend should be easier than finding a wife.
>”The mare is up to you of course… I wouldn’t even know where to begin there…”
>She trails off and bites into one of your homemade sugar bread slices.
>Taking a sip of tea, you distract Meme from her staring contest to feed her a little. She doesn’t want to look away from the mare, but her sweet tooth wins.
>”This bread is delicious Anon. It’s so soft…”
>She mustn’t just be flattering you, she inelegantly scoffs down two slices in one go.
“Yea, I make it soft for Meme.”
>”You cook? It’s really good, Anon.”
“Thank you… You said you don’t know who reported me?”
>You look at Pinkie.
>”Yes. We don’t know. Pinkie told me after she found out about it.”
>”I-I shouldn’t have…”
>Pinkie who has been quiet all this time, finally speaks.
>”I know you made a Pinkie promise, but-“
>”No buts, Twilight… I broke a Pinkie promise…”
“But only to Twilight?”
>You ask for confirmation, maybe the cuckoo mare is innocent after all. You could never bring yourself to dislike Pinkie.
>The other friends are just average people at best, the white one can be rude. But Pinkie has never come off as nefarious.
>”I didn’t want to. The guard told me to go away so I ran to Twi… I’m sorry.”
>Sounds like she’s innocent. She’s just guilty she told anyone, which is what she promised she wouldn’t do.
>You can’t get mad at that, especially not after the save.
“Don’t be. You two saved me today…”
>Your cloak keeps you hidden, but you give the two a smile and they smile back.
“Thank you.
>The four of you finish your afternoon snack, and the two ponies begin to leave.
>You show them to the door, and hold it open for them.
>”Bye-ya Anon. Bye Melon!”
>”Goodbye Anon. And Goodbye Melon.”
“Goodbye Pinkie, Twilight…”
>Before the ponies leave you try once more.
“Meme, say bye?”
>She pokes her head out of your cloak, and looks up at you for a minute.
>Then she sticks a little hoof out waving and in an adorable baby voice.
“Ponka bye, Twi-wite bye.”
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>All eyes are on you before anyone has a chance to say anything. They already know why everyone is here.
>As much as you appreciate Twilight, especially after yesterday, you’re not sure if this was a good idea.
>You hardly got any sleep last night, you couldn’t take your eyes off Meme, or your mind off everything that’s happened.
>It’s been ages since you’ve had this kind of attention on you. No pony is worried and getting away, not annoyed or disgusted, but that was easier to deal with.
>”Anon. Please go ahead and tell us however much you want. We’re listening.”
>Twilight smiles at you, and her friends continue looking. Pinkie’s looking through your cloak at Melon. Rarity seems uninterested. Dash is trying to look uninterested, but her wide searching eyes betray her. Fluttershy is smiling out of obligation and nothing more.
>Her other friends, Applejack and two others you don’t know have a small smile, they’re interested but only because Twilight is. Spike left to get something on Twilights request, but he didn’t want to leave.
>After a good long moment of awkward silence, you gather yourself and think of something to do and raise your angel up and out of your cloak.
“This is Melon.”
>You put her on the stone table, and she sits up and looks around at all the ponies before looking back at you.
“Melon Medley. I call her ‘Meme’. Say hi Meme?”
>You request and smile at her, and she smiles back. She doesn’t say anything, but she giggles waving at everyone in the room.
>Thankfully the ponies don’t seem to mind, the ‘awws’ mix with her giggles and echo around the room.
>Pinkie covers her mouth with her hooves and you’re sure her eyes are wet. Rainbow Dash’s leaning forward biting her hooves. Even Twilight is smiling at your little angel.
>”Ain’t ya the most precious lil thing?”
>Applejack has her hat over her chest. Everyone else smiles at Meme as she goes around waving and giggling.
>”Aww, she’s such a cute little darling.”
>Meme stops at Pinkie Pie, excitedly waving.
>”Ponka! Hi!”
>Pinkie can hardly respond with a trembling voice, but she returns her waves before letting Meme move on.
>”Hi! Twi-wite!”
>”Hello, Melon.”
>Twilight happily waves back at the precious angel. You’re glad to not be the center of attention anymore, but you think you have a bit of daddy diligence to get out of the way.
“Meme. Aren’t you going to say hi to everyo-pony?”
>”Dada? Who?”
>She stands up and puts two hooves on your chest to reach up to you, repeating ‘who’. The ponies excitedly waiting smiles plastered all over their face.
“Go ask them, sweetheart. Say ‘Hi, I’m Melon, what’s your name?’”
>You instruct her, but she stays standing up on two legs and grumbles to you. Maybe she’s being shy, or something. But you don’t want to give up that easy, she needs the outside contact.
“They’re our friends, sweetheart.”
>”Dada…”
>She pouts at you, and tries to cover her face with her wings.
“Just try.”
>You reach down and give her a little kiss, and she mumbles a little more.
>She finally turns around, and almost everyone is leaning forward. Meme nervously begins.
>”Hi! I Mwewon, wha’ you?”
>Noone can help but smile at her attempt.
>”Hello, Melon. My name is Fluttershy.”
>Maybe you read her wrong, she seems pleasant. She never gave you the time of day, but maybe no one can help but smile at Melon.
>”Fwut-tu-shy?”
>Fluttershy giggles at her attempt, and the room fills with ‘awws’ again.
>”Yes. Fluttershy.”
>Meme excitedly gasps and sits up higher.
>”Hi, Fwut-tu-shy!”
>”Hello, Melon.”
>Fluttershy giggles back, and Meme moves on to the next excited looking pony. She’s not nervous anymore.
>”Hi! I Mwewon, wha’ you!?”
>”Hi Melon! I’m Starlight Glimmer.”
>”Staw-ite? Gwimmr!?”
>Noone has the heart to correct her, so she continues her greeting, and moves on to ask her question again.
>”Hello, Melon! TRIXIE says hello.”
>”Twixie?”
>Well, she’s a little strange, not that you’ve ever met her, but at least her name is easy enough. This is good for both of you.
>”Hello, darling. My name is Rarity. How are you?”
>”Wawity? Good! I good! You?”
>You’re impressed at how quickly she learned. You’re sure you would need a minute nowadays. Rarity coos at her, and the room ‘awws’ again.
>”I am doing well. Thank you for asking.”
>She moves on to a familiar pony.
>”Ponka! Hi!”
>Pinkie manages to control herself a little better and responds with a high pitched ‘hi’ before Meme moves on.
>”Hey there lil fella! Name’s Applejack!”
>”Appwe- Uhh… Appuw!?”
>The mare covers her face in her hat blushing and smiling at your little girls antics. Your face is starting to hurt from smiling.
>The two exchange another little greeting and Meme moves on to the next pony.
>”Hey, Twi. I got the paperwork.”
>Spike flies into the room carrying rolls of paper. You dread whatever paperwork you’re gonna have to do now.
>”Dwagon!”
>Meme gasps as he lands in a smaller chair made for him.
>”Oh, uh hey little fella!”
>”Dada! Dwagon!”
>She excitedly tells you pointing at Spike.
>All the mares follow along with her excited antics; Spike tries to resist, but even he cracks a smile.
“Say hi to him, Meme.”
>She excitedly turns back around, and walks a little way before sitting down and waving.
>”Hi dwagon! I Mewon! You?”
>”Hey, uh Me-won! I’m Spike.”
>The two start talking about nothing in particular. Meme babbles occasionally but Spike manages to answer as well as he can.
>She’s distracted by him, and all the ponies are distracted by her.
>”Anon. I know you hate paperwork. But I have some for you to fill out.”
>You stand up fully expecting Meme to-
>”Dada! Up!”
>She always keeps an eye on you, she doesn’t like being alone, much less in a room full of strangers. And while you know Twilights friends aren’t the worst ponies, you’re not gonna leave your angel alone with them.
>She quickly climbs into your cloak once again and waves goodbye to all the ponies.
>”Wait! I-I wanna say hi to her!”
>Rainbow Dash almost stands on top of the table in protest.
>”We’ll be right back, Dashy.” 
>Twilight rolls her eyes.
>”But! Fine…”
>Dash slumps back down, and you have a moment.
>Friend or not, you won’t let down a pony happy to see your angel.
“Meme, say hi.”
>Holding Meme out, she quickly sees the Rainbow pony and waves. Dash lights up and waves back almost sitting on the table.
>”H-hi, Melon. I’m Rainbow Dash.”
>You don’t know how she acts normally, but she’s definitely out of it right now.
>”Wainbo? Hi! Wanbo!”
>Rainbow only responds in a high pitched sqee, and you follow Twilight out of the room.
>”I hope you didn’t mind that. When Pinkie ran in yesterday, we where in the middle of… Everypony was excited to meet her.”
“Thank you, Twilight. I’m glad, we did this.”
>She smiles and holds open the door to her office for you.
>She offers you a seat and spreads paper in front of you, along with a pen and pot of ink. She sits across from you, and begins working on something.
“Please fill that out to the best of your abilities.”
>Doing as your told, you lift the pen and begin filling in the sheets. Most of the questions are straight forward enough, basic information, and the like. Meme climbs around inside your cloak distracting you occasionally.
>You’re glad she’s happy enough to move, though she did wake up not long ago, and it is her play time.
>It’s been a long time since you’ve asked someone for help, but maybe it’s time you try the whole friendship thing.
“Hey, Twilight.”
>She looks up at you. You feel unnerved a little, but she doesn’t seem annoyed or anything.
“You wouldn’t happen to have something for Meme to play with would you? Or a book?”
>Her face lights up on that last note and she excitedly gets up and trots away.
>Moments later she returns with a little basket of books, she sets it down on her office rug, and begins listing the books she has.
>You put Meme down on the rug, and she excitedly moves to the messy little pile of books.
>Twilight eyes both you and Meme smiling, before slowly returning to her seat. And you return to your work.
>With Meme occupied, the remaining work takes no more than a few moments, and you go over it all once more, before stacking it.
>”Finished? I’ll take that.”
>She sets the pile aside, and pulls a few more sheets making you cringe.
>”Don’t worry, these just need a signature. Pinkie insisted on being your guarantor. I hope you’re OK with that.”
>You can’t think of a reason why you wouldn’t be, thought you’re interested in why she ‘insisted’. There’s a part of you that wants to wholeheartedly trust at least Pinkie and Twilight, if no one else. Especially after yesterday.
>But then there’s a big part of you that can’t help but feel like you’re being taken for a ride, like someone is using you or playing with you. Maybe there’s somewhere they gain…
>In any case you can only play the hand you’re dealt, so you read over, sign and return the paperwork to Twilight.
>Patiently you wait for Twilight to say or do something, you keep an eye on Meme who’s managed to stack all the books in some order.
>She seems lost in some book that looks like it has too many words for her to understand. She’s staring at a diagram or something, occasionally turning it to look at it from a different angle.
>”That’s the last of it, Anon. Just that review left…”
>Turning to Twilight, she has a book open but she seems lost.
>She taps her hoof on the book but her eyes are looking somewhere on the table. Maybe you should say something, of course what to say is the hard part.
“Twilight.”
>You begin. She looks up at you with slight worry, and you can tell she’s clenching her teeth.
>Of course you’re not sure what you should say, or what you want to say. There’s just one thing that seems right, and without another thought you give it a shot.
“Thank you.”
>It takes both of you a minute to register what you said, but she closes her eyes and seems to relax. She opens her eyes with a smile.
>”Anon… Wait.”
>She gets up and rounds the table, and her worry returns.
>”I wanted to… To say…”
>She pauses for a minute, and lifts a hoof off the ground and reaches it towards you.
>She quickly catches herself, and puts the hoof back on the ground.
>”Sorry… For not being a good friend, all this time.”
>You feel like you should feel better, but there’s something in you that doesn’t like seeing her feel bad. Maybe it comes with being a father.
>Besides, it takes two to tango. You never gave her much of a chance, once things went downhill you let them get worst.
>It would be wrong to blame Equestria or any of the ponies, you had trouble making friends back home too. Only difference was you had old ones so it never bothered you. Sometimes you wonder how things are going back home.
>”I hope you-”
>But you can’t think about that too much that doesn’t matter anymore, you’re a dad now, you gotta do better. For her.
“I never gave you a chance either. I’m sorry too.”
>You put a hand on her shoulder like you’re sure she wanted to, and her face lights up with a smile. She looks away at the filly playing.
>”Did she order all the books?”
“She loves her books. I finally made her a shelf yesterday before, well… Yknow.”
>You forgot how nice it was to just make idle conversation.
>”Melon, what are you reading?”
>There’s something in Twilights voice that makes you smile, and Meme happily responds to her.
>”Twain! see?! Twain, Choo choo!”
>She excitedly pushes the book forward, and you can make out a cutaway of a train engine. You smile at her, she obviously doesn’t understand the drawing, but a ‘twain’ is a ‘twain’.
>”Isn’t that a big mare book? Are you sure you can read that?”
>Twilight sits down low next to Meme, and you move your chair closer.
>”Ya! See!? Twain? Uhh… Fie ‘ot!”
>She points at the details on the diagram and tries to explain them to Twilight. She says some words, and sometimes she just babbles.
>Not that the pony minds, she pays complete attention. Sometimes getting closer to Meme, but reeling herself back in.
>Between Melon explaining the ‘twain’, Twilight sucked into her world, or you feeling like a weight was taken off your shoulder, you’re not sure who’s more occupied.
>”Twilight, darling.”
>All of you missed Rarity enter the room.
>”Oh! Rarity. Sorry, I lost track of time. I’ll be out in a minute.”
>Rarity nods politely and leaves the room. Twilight quickly looks at you nervously and moves back to her side of the table.
>Without a word, she begins sorting through the paper work, and rolls it up.
>It’s getting late, probably. Either way it’s time for Meme to eat.
>Getting on the ground, you help Meme put the books back in their basket. She looks at the train book once more, and you know she wants to keep it, but she puts it away along with the rest of the books.
>You feel a sense of pride seeing her responsibility, you make a mental note of the books title, before picking her up.
>Twilight stands ready.
>”We should get going, Anon.”
>You nod, and stand up to follow Twilight through the castle.
>”Sorry, distracted. Us mares and foals, you know?”
>You don’t know. But you smile back at the giggling mare.
>The bustling room quiets down as you enter, all the ponies look at Meme poking her head out of your cloak.
>”Sorry for the wait, girls.”
>Looks like your business is dealt with, and you don’t want to overstay your welcome. Besides it’s time for lunch.
“I guess I should take my leave.”
>You quietly say to Twilight.
>”You’re welcome to stay.”
“It’s Memes lunchtime.”
>”Oh, yes. Of course.”
>You try your best to courteously wave farewell to all the ponies and spike. Meme copies you and does the same, which helps make up for any mistakes you may make.
>Twilight and some of the ponies lead you to the door, you’d forgotten what it was like to walk in a group of people. Most ponies get away from you.
>Bidding a final farewell you step down the steps of the castle.
>”See you at the party!”
>Oh… That…
>You had forgotten about it again, although you’re sure no one can blame you.
>Thankfully, that feeling of dread isn’t looming over you anymore, but you’re still nervous. You where never a party person back home, but at least they where full of people you knew.
>Still, at least Twilight and Pinkie will be there. Maybe it won’t be so bad.
>”Da da. Ahh! Hungwy.”
>Either way, it’s lunch time.
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