Blake took a step towards the fryer, wincing slightly at the pressure it put on his injured foot. His left foot was wrapped, held stiff, but it wasn’t enough to stifle the shocks of pain any time he applied weight to it.

Sighing faintly, he flipped a vegetable patty over, and then slipped the bun off the hot plate and onto a plate, beginning the arduous task of assembling a large vegetable burger.

The kitchen of the Allstar Brisbane Hotel was hot and humid, but Blake dared not take a step outside to cool off.

Members of the Australian Federal Police stood at the doorway. These weren’t regular beat-cops however. These officers clearly had some kind of SWAT training. Compact black SMGs were cradled in their arms, and they wore head-to-toe body armor including matte-black helmets usually only seen worn by officers responding to bank robberies.

Blake already knew that outside of the hotel, a mixed team of military special forces and regular police special forces were stationed in rotating shifts, guarding the most important being on the planet.

Celestia.

Blake hadn’t seen the princess with his own eyes. He had seen the footage of her stepping through the portal, with the royal guard in tow, but actually being able to even see her was a privilege few got to experience, even though she was staying just a few floors up in the hotel where he worked.

From what Blake had gathered from snippets of conversation and a few leading questions, Celestia had ordered that her presence cause as few ‘ripples’ as possible. Even the hotel she stayed at, she demanded that it stay open to the public. A slight concession had to be made on her part in that her floor was off-limits to the public and guarded at all times. But other than that, the hotel operated as normal.

Well, apart from the armed security service at every entrance and the frequent random security checks, confiscation of all but the bluntest of knives, installation of dozens of cameras, and several new workers he was sure were undercover operatives.

Blake limped over to a grill, flipping over a vegetable burger bun. A general order had gone through for every business around the hotel: No meat was to be cooked or served, for fear of offending the visiting dignitary.

It was pure luck, or lack thereof, that Blake was even there. Originally, he had worked at a warehouse on the outskirts of Brisbane, working for a shipping company. That was, until an idiot backed a loaded forklift over his foot. After six months of crutches and an operation to reset the bones in his foot, including a metal pin to hold them in place, and he was ordered to start finding a job by the company handling his recovery and reentry to the workforce.

Blake had felt railroaded into the job at the Allstar hotel, especially as the older lady handling his case had a friend in upper management there, and Blake had taken chef courses when he was younger.

It was barely a month into his new position when the portal had opened.

Talking ponies from another dimension.

It sounded like some kind of joke or prank. But Blake had seen them with his own eyes, at a distance, stepping out of the portal.

And now one was staying right upstairs.

“Seriously?”

Blake looked up at an argument that was starting right in the kitchen. One of the newer kitchen staff had a server’s hat placed on the bench in front of her.

“Seriously,” the guard said, grim-faced.

“She’s sent back every single person that was sent up there.”

“And now we have no one left,” the guard said with a helpless shrug of his shoulders. He leaned in, lowering his voice almost too low for Blake to hear, even though he was relatively close. “And you’re the last one we have here trained in diplomacy and non-disclosure.”

“Ugh, fine,” she said, picking up the hat and jamming it on her head. With a huff, she strode over to the serving tray that was piled high with salad and vegetarian meals of different varieties. She picked it up, composed herself, and marched towards the service elevator.

“Come in,” Celestia said, responding to a curt knock at the door. She didn’t turn away from the window, just watching the city and its happenings from a distance.

The door clicked open, and the new server entered, gently placing the tray down on the counter.

“How is your day going?” Celestia asked, not even turning to look at her.

“It’s… fine, Your Majesty,” the server said with a slight bow of her head.

“Why do none of you humans speak candidly with me?” Celestia asked simply.

The server gave an awkward motion with her hands. “That is not my place to say. Personally, I don’t enjoy sharing snippets of my personal life or day with my work colleagues.”

“Of course you don’t,” Celestia said with a sigh. “Tell Steven I wish to speak with him.”

The server paled, but nodded once. “Yes, Your Majesty,” she said with a bow, slipping out of the room and closing the door behind her.

A minute later, there was another curt knock.

“Enter,” Celestia said shortly.

Steven opened the door, stepping inside and closing it after him, standing with his arms crossed against his belly. “Is something the matter, Your Majesty?”

“The latest server you sent to me was unacceptable,” Celestia said, her voice as cold as ice. “I demand a new one.”

Steven arched an eyebrow, before giving a slight sigh. “Excuse my candour, Princess, but this is getting ridiculous.”

“I was not allowed to have my own servants enter here due to ‘security reasons’, so you will find me a suitable server if you have to enlist them from the general populace,” Celestia stated coldly. “I will not be spoken down to by trained drones. I find it offensive.”

“What are you looking for in a server, Your Majesty?” Steven asked, his voice gaining an edge.

Celestia stared down the road below the hotel, watching a van followed by a taxi navigating the winding road. “I wish to speak to someone whose idea of ‘small talk’ is not the minutia of diplomatic study!”

“Very well,” Steven said, bowing curtly and turning on his heel.

Blake looked up at the sound of a wooden spoon on a pan, being rapped smartly.

“Everyone! Everyone!” Steven called out across the kitchen. “Attention please!”

Blake sighed, turning slightly to face the pompous older gentleman demanding everyone’s attention.

“I’m looking for a volunteer from the regular staff to serve Princess Celestia her meals,” Steven said smartly, looking from face to face.

There was a ripple of murmurs, but nobody volunteered.

“Come now, don’t be shy. It’s not onerous. You’ll just have to take her trays of food to her, nothing more,” Steven tried to reassure, hands held out placatingly.

One of the females piped up from in front of a saucepan: “Is that why everyone else who’s gone up there has been fired?”

Steven frowned slightly at that. “If nobody volunteers, someone will be chosen.”

“Is that how volunteering works around here?” Blake found himself asking, before immediately regretting having said anything and turned back to stirring the gravy.

“You,” Steven said, eyes narrowing slowly. “I think you’re our first volunteer.”

“Like hell I am, I’m just here to cook,” Blake said, holding up his spoon and pointing at it. “Nothing in my contract says ‘take orders from pompous’...” He made a motion with his hands to convey the last word of the sentence he wasn’t quite game enough to say out loud.

Steven arched an eyebrow. “Either serve the princess, or I’m going to rescind your security clearance.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Blake said flatly, eyes narrowing.

“Try me,” Steven said, his tone silky soft, giving the slightest of smiles.

Blake stared at him for several long moments, before scowling and turning off the hot plate he was at. “Fine, whatever. I’m sick of working here anyway.”

“Good man,” Steven said, making a motion with a hand. “Take the tray and put on the uniform. I’ll brief you while you get changed.”

Grinding his teeth, Blake went as directed, opening a cupboard and pulling out a neatly-pressed server uniform that looked like it should fit. He ducked into a corner of the room that had been set out as a ‘privacy area’, where he could get changed. It was also known as the ‘strip booth’, the place where the guards would usher random employees for what seemed to be thrice-daily strip-searches.

As he started to strip out of his clothes, Steven stepped up to the curtain. “When you address the princess, you will refer to her as ‘Your Majesty’, or ‘Your Highness’, as is befitting a female ruler.”

“I understand the basics on how to speak to royalty, Your Highness,” Blake said, as he tugged on the shorts of the uniform, starting with the shirt.

There was a momentary silence on the other side of the curtain, before Steven gave what sounded like an amused snort. “Mind you watch your temper with the princess. You will answer all of her questions as succinctly as possible without portraying our entire species in a bad light.”

“Don’t talk about the true stuff, then,” Blake said with a deep frown.

“No, don’t deliberately talk about the bad things,” Steven stressed, his tone turning icy. “Do not negatively spin things to demean the human race. Celestia has received information from somewhere that we are war-mongering assholes hell-bent on destroying each other. This is not conducive to any kind of partnership between our races.”

“In 2001, a bunch of psychos flew some planes into buildings because their imaginary friend doesn’t like capitalism, so the recipient country went over and glassed half the country while interfering with their government and going after all their oil,” Blake said, pulling the curtain back, straightening his uniform a little bit. “About sums it up, right? We are a bunch of war-mongering cunts.”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t put it to the princess so bluntly,” Steven said, frowning deeply.

Blake shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. But it’s clear that using kid-gloves on her isn’t working so well or you wouldn’t be asking for ‘volunteers’ to go serve her.”

Steven’s eyes narrowed slowly, and he looked Blake up and down once. “I hope you never get into politics.”

Blake laughed, picking up a tray and giving a neat, sarcastic bow. “That makes two of us.”

“Enter,” Celestia said calmly at the rap on the door.

Blake cringed slightly, almost dropping his tray as he fumbled with the door, fighting against the hydraulic piston that wanted to close it for him. He staggered into the room with a slight huff, panting and placing down the tray on the counter, which was laden with tea and different kinds of biscuits. He leaned against the wall for a moment, taking the weight off his bad foot just enough for it to relax, a soft sigh of relief leaving him.

“Are you injured?” Celestia asked carefully, not turning around.

Blake’s eyes met Celestia’s own in the reflection on the glass, and he shook his head. “No. Well, yes, but I’m getting better, slowly.”

Celestia frowned slightly, and then turned slowly to face him. Her mane and tail were flatter than usual without the wind to lift them, but she was still quite imposing.

Blake felt somehow diminished in her presence.

“You do not have a name tag,” Celestia said simply.

Blake looked down at his chest, and then gave a quiet curse. “I uh… I was enlisted recently. They haven’t had time to get me one yet.”

“'They'…” Celestia said, the slightest of smiles tugging at her lips. “As you bear no name tag, what is your name?”

“I’m Blake, Your Highness,” he said, giving his best attempt at a bow while keeping his weight off his foot. “I brought you tea and biscuits.”

“I can see that,” Celestia said candidly, looking him up and down carefully. “How did you injure yourself?”

“Can I… Can I speak uhm, candidly?” Blake asked awkwardly.

Celestia waved a hoof. “Please, do so.”

“An idiot where I used to work backed over it with a forklift,” Blake said bluntly. “Broke a bunch of bones in there and the docs had to put a pin in it so that the bones would heal properly.”

“Should you not be resting?” Celestia asked carefully.

“I rested for weeks. I was getting fat, decided I needed to get back to work,” Blake said with a wry smile.

Celestia canted her head slightly to the right, and pink eyes narrowed at him slowly.

Blake squirmed uncomfortably as it felt as though he were being examined with a magnifying glass.

“Is it commonplace for humans to lie to their superiors?” Celestia asked candidly.

Blake blinked once, and then gave a nervous laugh. “I was just… you know, being sarcastic,” he said, holding up his hands placatingly. “I was ordered back to work by the blokes handling my case.”

“Your… case?” Celestia enquired, eyebrows arching.

“You know, Work Cover. I was stuck off work after my injury, so Work Cover covered me until I was fit to do some kind of work. They decided I was fit for some tasks, and here I am. Not allowed to lift anything heavy or climb a ladder, though,” Blake explained as best as he could. “Or drive a vehicle requiring use of foot-pedals.”

“And this… ‘blokes’, you spoke of, what are they?” Celestia pressed, taking a step towards him.

“Oh, that’s just… you know, Australian slang. Means ‘people’, though it usually means ‘male’. A ‘bloke’ is just a bloke… you know, a guy. If there’s a group of people, you can call them ‘blokes’ even if some of them are girls, you know?”

Celestia shook her head. “I do not know, but I find it fascinating. Please, sit if it bothers you to stand.”

“I uh… I’m supposed to be serving you,” Blake said awkwardly.

“And indeed you are,” Celestia said with a warm smile. “Please, sit.” She made a motion towards the bed.

Blake gave an uncertain look between her and the bed, before perching himself awkwardly on the edge of it. “So uh… not fired yet, huh?”

“Fired?” Celestia asked.

“Fired,” Blake repeated blankly. “Every person they sent up here ends up being sent home within ten minutes.”

“If I wished a lamp-post to come alive and serve me my tea, I would have used my magic,” Celestia said simply, looking him up and down. “Tell me… your accent, it is… strange. Are you foreign?”

Blake blinked once. “No? Well, I guess I grew up in the country. Accents are pretty strong out in the sticks.”

“‘Out in the sticks’,” Celestia repeated thoughtfully, rolling the words on her tongue. “I quite like that colloquialism. Not in the least because I understood it immediately. What is it like where you grew up?”

“Pretty shit,” Blake said, his eyes widening and mouth clamping shut as he realised what he’d said. “I uh… I mean… it was boring.”

Celestia gave a soft laugh at that, a musical sound that sent shivers up Blake’s spine but also put him at ease, somehow. “Do not feel the need to censor yourself around me.”

“I just don’t feel… it doesn’t feel right to say that in front of a Princess,” Blake admitted, frowning and scratching a mark on his shorts. He shifted his legs uncomfortably, goosebumps rising on his flesh at a draft of cool air circulating the room.

“I assure you, Blake, I have heard every instance of profanity you can possibly imagine, and more,” Celestia soothed.

“Okay, I guess,” Blake said uncertainly.

“Now, where you grew up, what was it like? Describe it to me,” Celestia pressed.

Blake gave a faint sigh, pondering for a long moment. “It was boring. Kind of shit all around. The local council was more interested in museum pieces and elderly folk things than they were in anything to do with the kids around the place. All the younger people up and left as soon as they were able.”

“What made it so… unattractive to younger humans?” Celestia asked carefully.

“There was like, one skate park in the entire place. It wasn’t maintained. The public toilets got vandalised and the council didn’t give a shit one way or another. There were a bunch of pot-smoking morons always hanging around the halfpipe and they’d do stupid shit like leaving broken bottles there and we even found a few needles one time. Complained to the council, so they just decided to put a fence up around it and never let anyone in. Not that that stopped anyone. Some idiot drove his ute through the fence one night, fucking legless, and the council just put up a big stupid red fence they used to wall off construction sites.”

Celestia blinked once, holding up a hoof to halt him. “I am afraid you will have to explain some of these terms to me. What is a ‘half pipe’, a ‘pot smoker’, what is the significance of needles, what is a ‘ute’, and please clarify what ‘fucking legless’ means?”

Blake bit the inside of his cheek, a little bit chagrined that he had been so candid with a princess and also trying not to laugh at the way she had said ‘fucking legless’.

“A half-pipe is a skating term… You need a skateboard for that. Do you guys have a skateboard?” Blake asked helplessly.

“We ‘blokes’ have a skate-board, yes,” Celestia said simply.

Blake only cringed a little bit at the princess’s use of the word ‘blokes’. "Well, a half-pipe is the bit like a cylinder cut in half. You can use your speed from going up one side to come back down and go up the other, and get a little bit of air.”

“I see. I am not familiar with that terminology used for that object. Did you use a skateboard?”

Blake nodded once. “Yeah, when I was younger. Used to be able to do a mean kickflip. Not any more though.”

“Due to your injury?”

“Nah, just fell out of practise. I guess because I hurt my foot, too, yeah,” Blake admitted, looking down at his sneaker with a slight frown.

“And now ‘pot-smoker’?” Celestia asked, carefully enunciating the term.

Blake gave an awkward shrug at that. “Means someone who smokes a lot of pot. Marijuana.”

“We… do not have this in Equestria,” Celestia admitted.

“Hooka? Reefer? Cones?” Blake listed off, arching an eyebrow.

Celestia shook her head.

“Well, basically, it’s a plant that you dry, and smoke, and it gets you high.”

“Ahhhh… the zebras had something similar,” Celestia said with a nod. “Now, the needles. Were they performing surgery?”

Blake winced. “No, a harder kind of drug. Probably heroin.”

“That sounds… unpleasant,” Celestia admitted.

“Yeah, heroine is a really hard drug. Really addictive, too. Really illegal as well. Hence why it’s a little bit goddamn fu…” Blake took a deep breath, before letting it out. “Hence why we found it a little bit aggravating that the council didn’t do much about it when we found needles where the local kids play.”

“I can understand why that would be disconcerting,” Celestia said sympathetically. “Now, the ‘ute’ and ‘fucking legless’, please.”

Blake gave a slight chortle at that.

Celestia arched an eyebrow. “Is something amusing?”

Blake gave a short nod. “I just love the way you say ‘fucking legless’.”

“Fucking legless,” Celestia repeated with a wry smile.

Blake chuckled at that, shaking his head. “Well, a ‘ute’ is a kind of car. It has a cab up the front, that’s where the driver sits, and a contained area in the back where you can put things for transport. Food, machinery, bicycles, your dogs, whatever you want.”

“It is… a kind of cart?” Celestia offered.

“Yeah, exactly. Except there are no horses on the front.”

It took Blake several seconds to realise that what he said might have been offensive.

“Uh…” Blake trailed off, frowning down at his sneakers. “You don’t… you’re not weird about horses, are you?”

“Your animals that resemble us?” Celestia asked calmly.

Blake nodded.

Celestia wrinkled her nose slightly. “I find them… quite unattractive, honestly. There noses are too large, their manes too thick and bristly, their teeth are positively frightening and they are, in every sense of the word, far too large. Even the most imposing of our Earth Ponies are no match in size for your horses. Not to mention that they are not in any way intelligent.”

“Oh good,” Blake said with a sigh of relief. “I just don’t want to say something to upset you…”

Celestia rapped him on the nose quite sharply with her hoof, and Blake reeled backwards in surprise, blinking rapidly.

“A princess does not get ‘upset’, she becomes ‘offended’. And I am quite in control of my own emotions enough that I can understand that any offense is not intended.”

“Track-record notwithstanding,” Blake quipped.

“You have trouble holding your tongue, don’t you?” Celestia asked icily.

Blake winced slightly, and then nodded once. “Got me in a lot of trouble at school.”

Celestia’s expression turned to a smile. “I like that.”

Blake blinked once more, eyebrow lifting.

“Now, this ‘legless’,” Celestia said, changing the subject. “I take that not to mean that the person was bereft of legs, correct?”

“Legless means when you’ve had so much alcohol that you can’t walk properly any more,” Blake explained.

“Why is operating a motor vehicle under such conditions legal?” Celestia asked carefully.

Blake sighed faintly. “It isn't. Kills thousands of people around the world every year, but people bitch, moan, and complain about how ‘walking is hard’ or taxis are too expensive, and then they drive home from the pub anyway.”

“These people should be punished,” Celestia said, weighing her words, watching for Blake’s reaction.

“They should be,” Blake said with a frown. “Problem is trying to catch them.”

“Attempts are made, yes?” Celestia queried.

Blake nodded. “Random breath testing, ads on the tv every other day, etcetera. But there will always be people who do it because they’re stupid.”

“I see,” Celestia said candidily. “It is a logistical problem?”

Blake only nodded again, shrugging helplessly. “And an idiot epidemic.”

“An interesting way of looking at it,” Celestia mused. “So you feel as though your ‘council’ did not do enough to keep the younger people entertained?”

“Didn’t do anything, really,” Blake admitted, chewing on his bottom lip, brushing a hand through his hair in an agitated fashion. “There were a bunch of antique stores, some fast food places, a few pubs, and other than that, nothing. The youth centre got burned down, vandalised, everyone said, and they never bothered to rebuild it.”

“I am sorry for your home town,” Celestia said soothingly.

Blake gave a long sigh. “Eh, what are you gonna do?”

“Personally? Nothing,” Celestia admitted. “There is nothing I can do.”

Blake gave her a long stare. “That was a neutral statement. It was just a ‘I have nothing really to say here but it would be rude not to say something.”

Celestia blinked once. “I see.”

“For a master diplomat, you sure miss a few things,” Blake teased.

Celestia snorted once. “The geography of your town, what is it like? Were you ever raided by neighboring towns?”

“Raided?” Blake asked, confused. “Like… what?”

“Raided. You know, an opposing town would put together a militia, travel to a neighboring town, and take their resources by force,” Celestia said candidly.

“Holy shit have they been keeping some things from you. Nobody does that. That’s some tribal-warfare shit. If they tried that these days, they’d have cellphone footage of it on youtube within the hour and they’d all get rounded up by SWAT teams or the army.”

“You have no raids?” Celestia asked, seemingly genuinely curious.

“No,” Blake said, shaking his head. “We don’t even have militias. Jesus. The closest we have to that are gun clubs. Nobody ‘raids’ places. We have a government specifically so we don’t have to do crazy shit like that to survive.”

“But your peoples are engaged in warfare almost constantly,” Celestia said bluntly. “If not with neighboring villages, then with who?”

“Other countries,” Blake explained, as carefully as he could. “We don’t go to war with villages. We go to war with countries, or, these days, ‘terrorists’. Like the Al Qaeda blokes over in whatever sandy country they live in. They attacked America, and America retaliated by invading their country.”

“Was it a neighboring country?” Celestia queried. “Or separated by an ocean?”

“Separated by an ocean and a couple of other countries, if I remember correctly,” Blake said with a helpless shrug. “And wars are generally fought in third-world shitholes. The first world doesn’t have armed conflicts.”

“The first world?” Celestia asked, confused. “Earth, Equestria… what is the ‘third world’?”

“‘Third world’ refers to poorer countries. Like Africa and such. They’re not as developed as the ‘first world’ countries like America, Australia, The United Kingdom and such. God, I’m probably butchering this explanation. This is really something you need a diplomat to explain to you.”

“The diplomats choose to give me such a tiny amount of information, carefully diluted until it is meaningless and only carries the minimum of information to even be an answer. It is unsuitable,” Celestia said with a wave of her hoof. “Let me put it this way: In your opinion, only your own, does your country, or other major powers, prey on weaker countries with warfare?”

“Russia, most definitely,” Blake admitted instantly. “North Korea flexes its muscles wherever it can. And then there are European countries I barely know about that probably do, down in Gaza or whatever. But the first world countries I can think of off the top of my head only go to war to protect themselves, or to try and help out a war with allied countries who are being attacked.”

“Thank you for your candour,” Celestia said, looking him up and down again. “Would you please remove your vest?”

“This is a shirt,” Blake corrected automatically. “Also: what?”

“Please remove your shirt,” Celestia repeated, giving him a long stare. “I have not had the ability to study a human in detail and I find you fascinating.”

“That’s… kind of weird,” Blake admitted.

“Do I have to make it an order?” Celestia asked sweetly.

Blake cringed slightly at that, and then shook his head with the softest of sighs. “No, I guess. It’s just… weird.”

“I am unclothed,” Celestia said, head canting slightly to the left. “Does nudity bother humans?”

“Basically, yes,” Blake admitted, as he carefully unbuttoned the uniform top. He pulled it open, and then laid it aside. He tried to suck in his gut a little bit, to look a little bit less like a giant sack of shit. Eight hour days unloading trucks at a warehouse had given him a wiry, strong physique. But months of laying on his ass eating crisps and playing xbox had destroyed any vestige of abs.

“Fascination,” Celestia hummed, tilting her head slightly to the left, eyes narrowing at him. Her horn glowed, and a pad and quill floated up in front of her.

Blake wiggled away a little bit. “Uh, isn’t magic dangerous to humans?”

“I am not using my magic on you. If it bothers you, I will cease,” Celestia said, making a smooth stroke with the quill. “Please, can you lift your arms above your head?”

Blake arched an eyebrow at her, but did as asked, lifting his arms.

“Now, bend them?” Celestia asked eagerly.

Blake bent his arms down as asked, feeling incredibly awkward, before losing the pose. “Ugh, sorry, our body isn’t meant to bend like that.”

“How is it meant to bend?” Celestia asked, ears pricking forwards intently.

“Well… like… uh…” Blake trailed off with a helpless shrug. “Like a body.”

Celestia frowned at that, snorting once. “The more limber of your species, the most flexible ones, what are they capable of doing?”

“Oh, well… I guess there are people that can touch their hands behind their backs,” Blake said awkwardly. “Like, one arm over their shoulder and one arm not.”

“Show me,” Celestia said firmly.

Blake turned away from the princess, awkwardly lifting one arm over his head while slipping the other up from underneath, trying to touch his fingertips together. “I can’t quite reach,” he hissed, teeth gritting slightly with the effort, before he slumped and gave up.

“How strange,” Celestia said, making a few more strokes with her quill on the pad. “Your range of motion is… exemplary!”

“I’m not very flexible,” Blake said, confused.

Celestia shook her head. “In general. Your reach is amazing. There are entire regions of my body I am unable to reach,” she admitted. “You can reach between your shoulders! I would give up a portion of Equestria to be able to reach a hoof between my wings whenever I wished.”

“Couldn’t you just use magic?” Blake asked dubiously.

“It is not the same. Have you ever scratched an itch with a stick?” Celestia asked bluntly.

Blake thought for a moment, before nodding. “Sure, on a bushwalk one time. Back got a bit itchy, scratched it with an old stick.”

Celestia looked him up and down and then made a vague motion with a hoof. “In your hair where the flesh is more delicate?”

“No, hell no,” Blake said, wrinkling his nose. “That would hurt.”

“And therein lies my problem. There are devices specifically made for this, but they are not as good as scratching an itch with a simple hoof,” Celestia explained. “But the way we evolved, we cannot reach above our own selves without rearing back.”

“So… ponies believe in evolution, too, huh?” Blake queried with a soft little chuckle.

Celestia arched an eyebrow at that. “...What is there to ‘believe’ in?”

“It’s only recently that most humans actually ‘believe’ in evolution, despite evidence,” Blake explained with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “And even that could be completely wrong.”

“All evidence we have found points to magical adaptations shaping future generations,” Celestia said smartly. “It is a foregone conclusion.”

“Don’t ponies see you as some kind of god?” Blake asked dubiously, looking her up and down again. “How does that factor in with evolution?”

“I am close to the classical definition of a ‘god’, at least… in our ‘realm’, I am. Do your ‘gods’ not reach the pinnacle of their creation through natural selection?” Celestia asked, seemingly genuinely curious.

Blake shrugged again. “I didn’t take ancient history, but all of the older god tales all say that ‘god’ that was just some bloke who was there for all time and created everything.”

Celestia scoffed. “That completely precludes time having a beginning. How could something exist before time?”

“I don’t get mixed up in philosophical debate,” Blake said helplessly.

Celestia clapped a hoof over her mouth, and then took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I am sorry, did I offend you with anything I said?”

“What? No,” Blake said with a wave of a hand.

“It was remiss of me to speak so… frankly about your beliefs and those of your species,” Celestia said carefully.

Blake stared at her for a long moment, and then shook his head. “No. Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t go all ‘politically correct’ on me,” Blake said, pointing a finger at her accusingly. “You apparently wanted someone who wouldn’t kid-glove you, and now you’re going to go doing the same thing to me?”

Celestia took a deep breath, scowling slightly to herself. “I just find it so easy to talk to you. It is… unsettling now that I think about it.”

“Because I don’t look at you like a god?” Blake asked with a slight smile.

Celestia pondered on that for a few moments, before giving a wary nod. “Perhaps. You are most certainly not as… reverential as my pony subjects. It is refreshing.”

“So… what do you think of humans?” Blake asked, stretching his arms out for examination. “Other than ‘wow you can reach behind your back!’?”

Celestia’s eyes narrowed at him, and she chewed on her bottom lip for just a moment. “I think your clothes are incredibly silly, your manes are too short, your arms are too long, your rumps are… Wrong. And your males have breasts.” She pointed with a hoof at his chest. “This is… unsettling. Do the males of your species breast-feed young?”

Blake resisted the urge to cover his chest, feelings his cheeks redden slightly. “No! I’m just a little bit out of shape is all.”

“But you have breasts,” Celestia pressed. “They are clear.”

“This is like, ninety percent muscle,” Blake protested. He wiggled a little bit closer to the princess, grabbing one of her hooves in his hand and lifting it. “Here, feel.”

“This is highly inappropriate,” Celestia said, but allowed her hoof to be lead to his left breast area.

Blake tensed all the muscles in his arm, and then tugged her hoof against him slightly. “See? Muscles.”

“How… strange…” Celestia said, brow furrowing deeply. She felt along the length of the tense muscle she could feel, feeling the edges of it. “It is… very similar to a phoenix's weight-bearing wing muscle in their chest. Why then, do you possess nipples?”

Blake shrugged helplessly, letting go of the hoof and scooching back away from the princess again. “That’s something to ask a scientist, not me. I vaguely remember it having something to do with every human being a female in the womb until a certain time when they get a bunch of hormones that turn them male. But by that point, nipples have already formed.”

“So they are… completely useless? Non-functioning?” Celestia asked.

“Pretty much,” Blake said with a single nod. “I did read one thing about guys in a concentration camp growing breasts and producing breast milk, though. Apparently, starvation made them produce a bunch of hormones? So they could still function, I guess.”

“Concentration camps?” Celestia asked lightly. “What are they?”

Blake blanched, scratching his head nervously. “Uh… nothing important, really. That’s really something you should ask our diplomats.”

Celestia arched an eyebrow slowly. “Now I am more curious than ever.”

“It was a slip of the tongue,” Blake said nervously, fidgeting with the edge of his shorts.

Eyes narrowing slowly, Celestia made a vague motion with a hoof. “Do I need to get a new server?”

“Probably,” Blake said, pursing his lips, before giving a long sigh. “Well, shit. Concentration camps were where they sent all the Jews to be systematically killed off. They called it the ‘Holocaust’ and it’s widely regarded as one of the worst things to have ever happened.”

“That sounds horrid,” Celestia said, wrinkling her nose slightly. “Did you participate in it?”

Blake blanched again. “What? Fuck no. It happened like sixty years ago. That was during World War Two, when all of the countries of the world teamed up, picked a side, and blew the crap out of each other. We won. The guy who did it killed himself when we got to his bunker, and the country he was from hasn’t even been allowed to maintain a military.”

“Harsh,” Celestia said simply, staring at Blake for a long moment. “What was the name of the man who did this?”

“Hitler,” Blake responded immediately. “Adolph Hitler.”

“Amazing that you so readily know the name of someone who died decades before you were born,” Celestia said tactfully. “Why is that?”

“Because we’re taught who he was. We’re told he was the worst human being ever to live. And he was.”

“Does he have any followers today?” Celestia asked carefully.

Blake shrugged. “Probably. There’s the skinheads and stuff. But if you go saying that all Jews should be rounded up and killed you don’t last long before they throw you in the loony bin, or in jail.”

Celestia nodded, looking at Blake carefully. “It seems that your species at least learns from its mistakes.”

“Hopefully,” Blake said, making a helpless motion with his hands. “I’m not a history major or anything like that, I just know what I know from school.”

“Very well. That was… enlightening,” Celestia said carefully. “Nothing similar is happening in the world today?”

“Millions of people being systematically killed? No.” Blake shook his head emphatically. “The first person to try it would get nuked.”

“It amuses me that your kind can casually reference a doomsday weapon so many times that in common language it can be a verb,” Celestia said smartly.

“Hey, we only used two of them on people,” Blake retorted. “And that was to end World War Two.”

“You simply must tell me more at another time,” Celestia stated. “I fear that our talk has turned too… heavy. You are becoming agitated.”

“What makes you say that?” Blake asked blankly.

Celestia wordlessly pointed at his leg.

Blake consciously stopped bouncing his leg, pursing his lips. “Okay, yeah. It’s just an awkward line of questioning. Not something I should have brought up with an envoy from another world.”

“And yet you were the only human who would dare, so far,” Celestia said simply. “One time, I banished my sister to the moon. She stayed there for a thousand years.”

Blake winced slightly. “That must have sucked.”

“Very much so,” Celestia said calmly. “We each have failings. Hiding them accomplishes nothing.”

“I get where you’re coming from… but still…” Blake said with a wave of a hand.

“So, does your kind cavort with other species?” Celestia asked suddenly.

Blake gave a single blink. “...Cavort?”

“Engage with intercourse with,” Celestia clarified carefully. “I am changing the subject, if you did not notice.”

“I noticed,” Blake said, blinking several times and then shaking his head to try and clear it. “Also: What?!”

“I assume that to be a negatory, then?” Celestia said with a soft giggle. “None of the diplomats would answer that question.”

“Why would they?” Blake asked, giving the princess a long stare. “Screwing animals is pretty much against the law and common morals of every civilised nation on earth.”

“I understand that you don’t have sentient species other than humans?” Celestia asked thoughtfully. “I think that the vast majority of ponies would baulk at the idea of participating in sexual relations with a bear or such, so perhaps it is not so strange.”

“Why do you… care?” Blake asked, rubbing his hands through his hair, confused. “That’s just… a weird-ass question.”

“I am contemplating opening up dialogue and trade with your species. These are things I need to know,” Celestia said candidly.

“So you think that humans and your ponies would… you know? Do the nasty?” Blake asked in hushed tones.

Celestia gave a slow nod. “I think they may,” she said guardedly.

“Do… do ponies even… you know?” Blake asked, looking Celestia up and down again. “You guys are like us, right? You know, just…” He trailed off, frowning deeply, and then held up a fist and inserted his index finger into it suggestively.

Celestia gave a candid nod at that. “Though there are… size limitations to be assured of. I myself have a cozy twelve inches, would a human male be able to ‘accept’ it?”

Blake blanched, scooching further away from the ‘princess’, his eyes wide and mouth agape. “W-what?!”

Celestia’s composure broke and she dissolved into musical giggles, covering her mouth with a hoof. After several long moments, she looked up at him, still smirking innocently. “That was a joke, Blake. You look as though I sprouted tentacles.”

“You basically just said you do!” Blake said, entwining his fingers behind his head in agitation. “Jesus.”

“A penis does not have any place being on a female,” Celestia said with a slight giggle. “I assure you, we are ‘compatible’ biologically.”

“A human woman wouldn’t take twelve inches, not a chance,” Blake said guardedly. “Well, maybe some of them. Bloody size queens. But the general woman would baulk at that. You’d basically be shoving it into their lungs.”

“And I grossly exaggerated my imaginary penis for comedic effect,” Celestia said warmly. “Come back over here, Blake, I won’t bite.”

Blake winced a little bit, but tentatively slid over closer to her again, seating himself uncomfortably on the edge of the bed once more.

“In your own case… as an ‘average’ human, would you engage in sexual relations with a pony?” Celestia asked candidly. “Twelve-inch penis included or not at your discretion.”

Blake narrowed his eyes at her slowly, and then pursed his lips. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know what you guys even look like down there. What if it’s a giant mouth full of teeth?”

“Do you wish to inspect?” Celestia asked coyly, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

Blake’s eyes widened, and his mouth gaped again.

Celestia laughed at that, shaking her head and burying her face in her hooves for just a moment to try and compose herself. “You are so very easy to fluster!”

Blake just pursed his lips at her, ignoring the burning at the tips of his ears. “I don’t know if I would or not. It would be kind of hard getting past the fact that you’re all… ponies. That’s just… it’s weird.”

“Understandable,” Celestia said, inclining her head. “Do you find us unattractive as a species?”

“Attractiveness is subjective,” Blake said bluntly.

Celestia arched an eyebrow and then poked his chest with a hoof. “That was not the answer to the question I asked.”

“I think you are incredibly beautiful,” Blake admitted. “But I thought the same thing about the arabian somethingorother horse I saw on the internet the other day. Looked like brushed gold. I still wouldn’t want to take it to bed.”

“But it was not sentient, correct?” Celestia pressed.

Blake nodded. “Just a dumb horse.”

“Then it is the lack of sentience that bothers you?” Celestia mused.

“Perhaps… maybe. I don’t know. It just skeeves me out a bit,” Blake admitted, scratching the side of his neck again. “I’ll just have to cross that bridge when I don’t get there.”

Celestia pricked her ears upwards at him. “You think a pony would not be interested in a human?”

“We’re kind of furless monkeys,” Blake said with a soft chuckle. “It’d just be weird to have a pony or something looking sideways at a human.”

“I find you quite attractive,” Celestia admitted coyly. “You are quite exotic as a species. And your personality is not unattractive from our rather brief encounter so far.”

“You have shit taste,” Blake said bluntly.

Celestia laughed at that, placing a hoof over her mouth again, shaking her head at him. “You are a refreshing change from the species of my home. Perhaps many humans would feel the same way?”

“I can’t speak for everyone else, but you’d get a few takers, at least,” Blake said with a wary nod.

“Indeed,” Celestia said, humming bemusedly to herself.

“Can I put my shirt back on?” Blake asked plaintively.

Celestia shook her head firmly. “No, I still wish to sketch your muscles. May I touch?”

Blake gave a long-suffering sigh, and then nodded reluctantly. “Yeah, I guess. Just don’t go along my armpit. It’s ticklish.”

Celestia smiled brightly, magically picking up her quill and pad again, gently lifting his arm to an outstretched position and then feeling along his shoulder to find out which muscles were tense. “So, what are the major powers of your world and where are they in relation to each other?”

Blake limped out of the room an hour and a half later, his throat dry and his arms aching from being held up in odd positions.

Steven was leaning against the wall opposite the door, arms crossed, waiting.

Blake just blinked at him tiredly.

“Come,” Steven said, making a motion down the hall with a hand. “Debriefing.”

Blake just groaned, slumping. “She wants me back in there in an hour with her dinner.”

“Then you have an hour to debrief us.”