"The Other Side" Chapter 11- Calm Before The Storm

Morning light passed across Dylan's face, causing him to stir. He groaned in discomfort, rolling to turn his back to the sun's rays. "Damn it. I hate mornings." Dylan mumbled as he swung himself halfway out of bed. He sat up, putting his hands on his knees, and looked at the room around him.

He was still in disbelief of how well the ponies had treated him; free clothes, free alcohol, medical treatment and most unexpectedly, a /house/. It was absolutely dumbfounding to Dylan, who had spent most of his life being taken advantage of and ignored. Other than the fact that he had saved Fluttershy's life and helped Applejack with her... Griffon infestation. He did not think he would understand their reasons anytime soon.

As he pondered these things, he suddenly realized something strange: I don't have a hangover. He thought for a moment, trying to determine how he wasn't holding his head in agony. The lack of muscular weakness and the fact that Dylan could assemble coherent thoughts only seemed to strengthen his theory.

Dylan stood up and scratched his face; it was completely covered in a wild, unruly beard. "I really need a shave..." Dylan began to walk to where he thought the bathroom should be. He was correct in his findings, and proceeded inside. He looked at himself in the mirror with an expression of astonishment. He had appeared to have grown taller over the past few days by at least a few inches. He pulled up the sleeves of his shirt, looking at his biceps. His muscles seemed much more pronounced as well. Dylan began to run water from the sink into his cupped hands, letting the cool feeling wash over his skin for a moment. He then proceeded to splash water over his face, enjoying the refreshing blast of cold; it reminded him of home, which was nothing like the warm, green lands around Ponyville. He actually liked the cold and the snow. Winter was always one of his favorite seasons, as he found the spring too wet, the summer too hot, and the fall just wasn't the right atmosphere for his tastes.

After cleaning up a bit in the bathroom, -without shaving, as he had no razor, and doubted that most ponies did either- Dylan made his way to the kitchen, as his stomach was already complaining earnestly. "Shut it. I'm getting food." His gut did not cease its rumblings. "Fuck you. Just wait, you ungrateful sack of crap! I'm getting the damn food!" Dylan frantically walked over to what looked like a refrigerator and opened the door. Inside were various types of foods. Luckily, they were all things that he could eat, as the ponies had learned that humans had quite a different diet than them. He pulled out a hunk of cheese and an apple. He got a large chunk of bread from the kitchen counter as well. He put it all down on a plate and began to eat. "Yeah, you've shut up now... greedy bastard..."

***

Twilight Sparkle sat in her study, scribbling words down on a scroll with a magically-levitated quill. She was mumbling quietly to herself, trying to think of more words to write on the thick, rolled paper. When she finished, the scroll read:

Dear Princess Celestia,

My observations about friendship are going well, and I have learned quite a few things:

I've learned that just because somepony is different than you doesn't mean that they can't be a good friend.

I've also learned that to be a good friend, you must stand up for your friends, no matter how large your fear is.

Also, I met a rather strange individual. His name is Dylan, and he says that he's a human from another world. It's all very exciting, learning about him and talking to him. He has a bit of a bad temper, but he's made up for it.

The human world seems like an awful place to live, and I wouldn't want to be Dylan, because of all he's gone through. He seems like he's putting on a mask of happiness to cover up how he really feels. He has some things he won't tell me about; foremost being his family. I don't know what could have happened, but I know it's not good.

I eagerly expect your reply.

Your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle.

P.S. Do not give Pinkie Pie alcohol. Ever. Again.

Twilight sighed as she finished the letter, and opened her mouth to call for Spike. Before she could, there was a knocking on the front door of the library.

"I'll get it!" Spike yelled.

Twilight began to walk down the stairs to the ground floor, hearing the sound of the front door opening as she did so. Standing outside the door was Dylan. He looked like he had cleaned up from the last night's party, except for a large bruise on his face, which looked like it was caused by a hoof.

"Hello, Spike! How's your morning so far?"

"Great! I just had sapphires for breakfast!"

"Oh that's- SAPPHIRES! YOU EAT GEMS?!"

"Uhm... Yes? I'm a dragon."

"Isn't that... expensive?"

"Not really, they're all over the place around Ponyville, you just gotta know where to dig."

"There are gems in the dirt?! Wow. No wonder you guys don't have poverty issues..." By this time, Twilight had arrived at the bottom of the stairs.

"Hello, Dylan. How are you?"

"Great!"

Why does he seem so energetic? He was just in a fight last night,'... Shouldn't all the alcohol he had yesterday be-

Twilight's thoughts were interrupted by Spike, who spoke up again. "Wow! You look... taller!"

It was only after Spike said this that she noticed Dylan's change in size. He looked at least a few inches taller, and he appeared to look even bulkier than he normally did.

"Oh my gosh! You are! How did that happen?" After being asked this question, Dylan shrugged and frowned, not knowing the reason himself.

"No bloody idea." He walked up to Twilight and smiled, something obviously on his mind. "I'd like to tell you more about my world, and maybe learn some about yours as well."

Twilight smiled, an obvious look of satisfaction and anticipation on her face. "That's great! I can start making some coffee or tea, if you like."

"No, I'll just have water, thank you." Dylan scratched his beard and looked around, staring in awe at the massive amount of literature lining the bookshelves on the walls. "Oh... Shit... You weren't kidding about being a librarian... This is a whole lot of books." His eyes went wide as he said this.

"They're mostly from the last librarian, but a lot of them are from my personal collection."

Dylan walked up to one of the shelves and pulled out a book. He read the title aloud,

"The Mare's guide to Stallions: 101 ways to buck-"

The book jumped from Dylan's fingers and into the air; it was glowing purple, as was the unicorn librarian's horn. A deep shade of red washed across Twilight's face. Her embarrassment was completely obvious, but she tried to hide it unsuccessfully.

"Oh! I'm u-uh h-holding that for a f-friend! Yeah, that's what that's doing there!"

Dylan raised an eyebrow and grinned, pointing at a plate with the genre of this section of bookshelves.

Twilight Sparkle's collection.

"Shouldn't that book be behind that desk over there instead? I'm pretty sure librarians aren't supposed to display books that they're holding." Dylan chuckled, putting a hand over his mouth in an attempt to stop himself. Spike, on the other hand, laughed loudly and wildly, rolling around on the floor and pounding his fists against the wood boards as hilarity overtook him. The book floated behind Twilight's back, who was backing away, still bashful at having one of her 'private' books found out. Dylan gave Spike a questioning look, then spoke.

"Why are you laughing? Aren't you a little young to know about that kind of stuff?"

Spike shrugged, giving a small smile, "Well, this is a library. There are tons of books lying around, and some days are just so boring that I read them."

"Huh... So... Uh..." Dylan looked at the little dragon with an expression of pleased amusement. "Did you practice any of the things you learned in those books for your... special someone?" Dylan was grinning like an idiot, and looked like he was about to lose it. Spike stared in shock, his lips trying to form words, but failing miserably. "Well, I've gotta talk to Twilight. Talk to you later, lover boy."

Dylan left Twilight's dumbfounded assistant on the ground floor, and proceeded to follow Twilight upstairs. He saw her frantically trying to find a place to hide the book; overturning boxes, opening drawers, pulling back bedcovers, and so on. "Hey, Twilight, about that... sorry I laughed. It just that... I didn't expect you to be that devoted to the... bedroom arts." He gave one small chuckle and then continued, "We can get started and talk now, I don't really need anything to drink."

Twilight looked relieved, and turned back to the human, the beginnings of a smile starting to form on her lips. "Thanks. I... well... I generally only hang around with Spike or the girls, so I don't get much... male company."

Dylan smiled and replied knowingly, "I know all about that myself. I seclude myself and write, or read, anything really. Don't see many females when that happens. In fact, I don't really see anybody. My best friend left where I live a while ago, and I don't have any other really close friends... But damn alive, do I sure know how to make some enemies. I swear, I make at least one a week. And recently, four in two days." Dylan looked at his hands, flexing his fingers into a fist, then uncurling them one at a time. He seemed to be remembering something private, as his eyes took on a glazed appearance. Twilight took this opportunity to speak, "You have friends here! We may not know you that well, but you're welcome in Ponyville anytime. All the help around town has warmed up... well, mostly just the Girls and I, and a few other ponies, but I'm sure everypony will like you soon enough."

"Maybe..."

Dylan and Twilight talked for most of the morning, exchanging information at a rapid rate. Dylan told Twilight about as much history as he could remember, along with examples of Earth society. Dylan even drew maps -to the best of his above average drawing skills- to show Twilight Earth geography. Twilight told him about the shortened version of the history of Equestria, along with the Elements of harmony, the defeat of Nightmare Moon, and finally, the sealing away of Discord.
The name stirred up something inside him, and he felt himself become immoderately more attentive, though he did not know why.

"So... You're all basically the chosen ones? How'd that happen? Were you all born like that, or did you somehow change later on in life?"

Twilight shook her head, her face becoming serious. "I don't know. But for whatever reason, we have this responsibility, one way or another. The Elements are pretty much our last line of defense, and it's quite a lot of pressure on us..."

"Whoa. Yeah, I can imagine. Uh, so is that about it?" Dylan scratched at his chin, feeling the coarse hairs of his beard between his fingernails. He looked like he was excited to get somewhere.

"Yes. You can leave whenever you like. Have a nice day, Dylan." Twilight tried to look happy when she said this, but a strange feeling at the back of her skull distracted her slightly. The feeling was painful, but it felt like it had a direction. She shook her head to clear the sensation.

"You too." With that, Dylan walked downstairs and exited the library. Twilight magically lowered her quill and notebook to her desk and began to search for something. Numerous objects floated around her, each surrounded by the aura of her magic. After a few minutes, she retrieved a large, dusty tome from a chest. It was ragged looking, and it appeared to be at least a hundred years old. She blew away the dust and read the title. In gold-edged black lettering were three words: The Old Ones.

***

Dripping. Constant dripping. That was what the diamond dog heard throughout his entire guard shift. The stalactites above him were slowly gathering water and letting it fall to the cave floor in a steady, monotonous pattern. He was completely irritated by the constant noise, and had tried to smash the stalactites with the tip of his spear several times; but he was too short, and couldn't reach the source of his unbearable annoyance.

The diamond dog's face was covered in nasty-looking scabs, which he scratched at occasionally. There were stains of blood on his fingernails where he had scratched his wounds too hard. He looked like a greyhound; tall and skinny, with a thin mouth. His arms were strangely well-muscled for such a thin breed of diamond dog, but no one in his pack teased him for his muscles; they instead teased him because of his scabs. He was wearing a thick leather jerkin, a pair of half-finger gloves, and an iron helmet, which seemed a small bit too large for him. Along with the spear he was holding, he had a club slung across his back by a leather sling, and a dagger in a sheath at his belt. The diamond dog growled and grumbled to himself quietly, "Scabs, clean the oil barrels. Scabs, go throw out the trash. Scabs, pick up those rocks. Scabs, go find us some booze. Scabs, guard the entrance... Damn taskmaster thinks he can boss me around jus' cause' he's bigger'n me! One a' these days, bitch. One a' these days..." Scabs jumped when he heard an unexpected sound; a whoosh, like air being displaced by something else. He swung his spear in the direction of the sound, readying to stab at whatever had made its way into the diamond dogs' caves.

The diamond dogs had struck out from their cramped tunnels into a large cavern system, which they had fortified and turned into their base of operations. There were at least thirty of them, and they were armed to the teeth. Despite this, many cave creatures and denizens of the outside had attacked them. They had lost half a dozen of their group in the past month. Scabs wasn't about to become the seventh.

"Rrr! Who's there?! I've got a pointy fing' and I ent' afraid to use et'!" To further validate his statement, he mock jabbed the air on front of him with his spear. He stood there shaking lightly for what seemed like half a minute, trying to listen for more sounds in the darkness.

Suddenly, the sound of a number of rocks clacking together and falling down into a deep hole in the middle of the cave made him jump. The sound echoed and bounced off the stone walls. Scabs yelped and spun towards the noise, cowering behind the point of his spear.

"Feck off! Either come out, or leave! I'm nat' warning yas' agin'!"

Immediately, he was answered by the unmistakable sound of a dozen weapons being readied; the clink of chains, the hiss of drawn blades, the creaking of bowstrings, and the crack of a whip.

"AAAAAAHHHH! GIT' BACK! OH FECK! FECK FECK FECK! "

The diamond dog backed up against the cave wall behind him and stumbled. He fell to his knees, awkwardly holding the spear out, trying to keep back whoever was about to attack him. A low voice rumbled out from the darkness, causing Scabs to yell out in fear.

"Some guard you are."

Another voice followed the first, but it was raspy and hoarse, unlike the deep boom of the first voice.

"Damn cur! It's us, you stupid mutt! Stop shitting yourself and stand up!" As this voice spoke, a torch was lit in the darkness, immediately illuminating a dozen figures. They were all griffons. They wore black cloaks and carried a large variety of weapons, which they were holding readily in their talons. The one holding the torch towered over the others. He had old and ragged feathers, and looked like he had seen many battles. In the hand that wasn't holding the torch was a wicked-looking morningstar, the head of which dangled menacingly from side to side. The one next to him was the one with the rasping voice; he was missing an eye, which was evident from the large bandage visible from under his hood. He was holding a longbow with a broadhead arrow nocked on the string, and was pointing it towards the ground. He gave the griffon equivalent of a smile and spat an insult at the diamond dog. "Who's a brave little pup, eh? You are. I'm shaking just looking at this fearsome display of canine masculinity!" Sarcasm was obviously this griffon's specialty.. "Get up, you coward."

Scabs scrabbled to pick himself up and clumsily salute the new arrivals. The griffon carrying the torch looked down at the ground and shook his head. "Turvehk, ssstop ssscrewing around and get to the damn point." This came from the second-largest of the griffons, who had a long, ugly scar running across the side of his beak. He had a large whip in one hand and a finely crafted falchion in the other. He appeared to be the leader, which was made obvious when every other griffon tensed at the sound of his voice and turned towards him.

The one-eyed griffon nodded nervously, fear for his commanding officer evident in his expression. It was plain to see that every last one of them feared their leader, and justly so. Turvehk coughed to clear his throat before speaking again.

"We're here to speak with your pack leader. Bring us to him. Now."

Scabs flinched visibly, then stuttered out his reply, shocked at how easily the griffons had snuck up on him. "Y-yes! R-r-right away! I-I'll j-jus' git' the d-d-door for yeh'!" He then promptly ran to the iron-reinforced wooden door that he had been guarding. He knocked on it hurriedly, glancing back nervously at the dozen figures behind him, who were now less than six feet away from him. An iron panel on the door slid open, revealing a mastiff diamond dog's face, which was mostly obscured by a visored iron helmet. His eyes were bleary, and by his voice it was obvious that he was drunk. "Scabs? I eard' yellin. Whass goin' on in there?!"

"Its... It's the griffons! They're here to see the boss! Open up, Brutus!"

The mastiff peered through the slit intently for a moment, jumped visibly and shut the panel. The clinking of keys being sorted through was heard from the other side of the door, along with feverish cursing. The door swung open with a groan, revealing the mastiff standing inside. He had a long-hafted axe held loosely in one hand, and a lit oil lamp in the other. A golden ring was pierced through his lip, which he licked at absent-mindedly as he stared in drunken amazement at the group of griffons standing outside. Scabs quickly ushered them further into the diamond dogs' hideout. They all passed the completely stupefied Brutus, whose mouth was now hanging open. He drooled on the floor as he watched the group head down the long hall to the main barracks. He closed his mouth with a snap, then turned and shut the door, fishing for his keys to lock it. He was relieved when the last of the new arrivals passed out of sight. He sighed, then reached for a tankard of ale which sat on a crate next to the door. He took a long slurp and shook his head.

"Griffons... great... and I was gettin' used ta' jus' sittin' around, too..."

***

Dylan walked with a spring in his step, nodding to any passerby. He was not quite accepted into the town, but he was tolerated, and a few of the townsfolk had begun to like the human. He was on his way to his second day of work at Sweet Apple Acres, where he was sure he would be appreciated. Applejack seemed quite fond of him, and it seemed very fortunate to have a boss that you got along with well. The feeling was mutual; He already considered Applejack a strong friend, along with her brother, Big Macintosh, who reminded him of himself. Big Mac; quiet, reserved, thoughtful... that was like Dylan a lot of the time.

He strolled along the well-worn dirt path, taking in the countryside. The land was pleasant, green and beautiful to look at. But there was something that he thought about it, and it made him wince.

Its so... artificial...

The countryside looked as if each field, each tree, and each flower was controlled and regulated, the wildness of the world subdued. It was completely unnerving, the sight all too familiar; his own world had abused and exploited nature as well. Dylan shivered slightly as he opened the farm's front gate and walked towards the farmhouse. Granny Smith was sitting in a rocking chair on the porch and snoring, fast asleep. The front door was open, but Dylan knocked on it anyways, rapping his knuckles against the hard wood. "I'm back, AJ. Need any work done?" No one answered him, so he walked inside. He undid the buttons on his coat, then hung it up on a coat rack near the door. "Mac? AJ? You guys here? The door was o-" Before Dylan could finish, he bumped into something soft with his leg, which caused him to grunt out in surprise. He looked down into the screaming face of Apple Bloom, who scampered away from him and vanished around a corner. "Monster! Haaalp! Haaalp! There's a monster in the house!" Dylan quirked his eyebrows in a curious fashion, thinking to himself.

Was that Applejack's sister? Holy shit... as if ponies couldn't get any cuter... curse you feminine side. Curse you.

Dylan leaned around the same corner the little filly had just disappeared around just in time to see a door slam. He heard at least three frantic voices behind it, and proceeded to sneak quietly up to the door, standing in the direction that the door would open. He planned to hide behind the door when the occupants of the room decided to come out. He was smiling mischievously, trying to suppress his snickering. The doorknob slowly turned and the door swung slowly outwards. Excited whispering could be heard, the voice of Sweetie Belle speaking quietly to her two companions."What do we do if we catch it?"

"You mean when we catch it. It's not getting away from the Cutie Mark Crusaders!" Scootaloo said confidently, sure that they would catch the two-legged creature.

"Ah think we should keep it as a pet!" Apple Bloom said excitedly.

"Weren't you the one who just ran away screaming from-" Scootaloo was cut off by a loud, guttural roar. All three fillies turned to stare in terror at the six-foot tall 'monster' standing right next to them. They screamed, running away from Dylan right back into the main room. He heard their hooves clicking on the wooden porch as they fled the house. He chuckled to himself and followed after them, slowly walking towards the large wooden barn near the house.

He came up to the doors, which were also open. He saw Big Macintosh standing inside, pulling a cart of firewood. He walked towards him, and was about to say something, when a large and heavy object landed directly on the top of his head. "Shit!" Dylan grunted as he fell to the ground, his head spinning with the impact. He stared at the large bale of hay now resting a few inches from his head. Seconds later he heard what sounded like three little battle-cries just before the Cutie Mark Crusaders rushed towards his fallen body. They began to wrap ropes around him, trying to hogtie him like some kind of animal. Big Macintosh turned his head and looked at the commotion, raising an eyebrow. "Eeewhut?"

Dylan struggled to turn his head towards the large red work-pony. When he was looking at him, he began to yell. "Mac! Mac! Help me! I'm being attacked my- mrrrrrphmmmmm!!!!! Mrphrfhker!" His muffled voice was due to a gag that had just been placed between Dylan's teeth by Sweetie Belle. "Bhhg Mrfntoff! Hrrp mh!" The three fillies dragged Dylan out of the barn, grinning to themselves and giving each other high-hooves (Pony high-fives). Their apparent victory made them ecstatic.

"We'll get monster-catching cutie marks for sure! My sister will be so proud!" Sweetie Belle said, unable to contain her explosive excitement.

Scootaloo smiled and nodded, "Yeah! We sure got that monster /good/!"

Apple Bloom laughed, sounding strange because of the rope she held between her teeth. "Yuh! Ah can't wait till we train him! What should we call him?"

Sweetie Belle shot Apple Bloom a questioning look, "What do you mean 'him'? It's a 'her'!"

"No way, it's definitely a 'he'! Look at those muscles!" Scootaloo touched one of Dylan's biceps with her hoof. Sweetie Belle looked frustrated for a second, frowning slightly.

"Look at that hair! It's way too nice to belong to a 'he'!"

The hogtied human yelled in protest, "MMH HRR ID NUUHT
GRHHLY! Mrrf mhh hrr!"

"Did it just say something?" Apple Bloom stared at it for a second, an expression of surprise on her face.

"I think it said, 'I'm a nice girlie'." Sweetie Belle said as she lifted the human's legs to keep him off the ground.

"THTS NNT WHH I SIDD! "

"Hey! He said, 'let's go to that shed'!" Scootaloo pointed to a small, rickety-looking tool shed near the back of the house. Dylan began to shake, trying to get away, but to no avail.

"To the shed!"

Apple Bloom's statement was fulfilled; the three fillies dragged Dylan into the shed, propping him up against the back wall. He landed hard on his ass, causing him to scream out in pain.

"GHD DMMHT! THAT HURT!"

His last sentence was only understandable because the gag had been removed by Sweetie Belle, who was staring at Dylan intently. "Why are you here, monster?" Apple Bloom yelled, leaning close to Dylan's face.

"I was trying to get back to work on the farm, until you crazy little... uh... ponies started dragging me off! Just ask Applejack or Big Mac!"

Scootaloo glared at the human in front of her, crossing her hooves in front of her as she leaned against one of the walls. The shed creaked with each movement the four of then made, as it was old and in a state of disrepair. "He's lyin'." Scootaloo said, squinting at Dylan in an attempt to intimidate him. "I know he is."

"I'm not lyin'! Just talk to mmrrphamrrph- MRPH TH MRRPH!?!?" The gag was put back over his mouth.

Scootaloo looked on the wall of the shed, all the various tools sitting on their racks or in boxes. She found what she was looking for. She reached for it and removed it off of the nail it had been hanging on. The thick leather strap dangled menacingly in her hooves, and she padded it slowly over and over again into her other hoof; it looked similar to how a thug might try to scare somebody with a bat. She smiled, looking down at Dylan, who looked back at her with a comprehending expression.

"MRPH! HHHMMMMMMPH MH MMMPLMRPH!"

"Flip him over... and pull his pants down." Scootaloo said, grinning even wider. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle did as she asked, but looked hesitant for a moment. Scootaloo looked down at Dylan's hairy buttocks and raised the piece of leather above her head. "Its spanking time!"

"MMMMMMMNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!"

The door to the shed burst open. A breathless-looking Applejack skid to a halt before speaking.

"What the hay is goin' on in-"

She saw the three fillies, the leather strap raised above Scootaloo's head, and the hogtied and gagged Dylan whose rump was fully exposed. The Cutie Mark Crusaders' heads all turned to look at Applejack. Her jaw dropped, and her pupils widened in complete shock. "What the buck?!"