Confusion

Noun: A lack of understanding, or a situation of panic resulting from a breakdown in the natural order. It is a word I’m far too familiar with; a term that has become pre-requisite vocabulary for any attempt to self-summarize my life. Yet, to some degree, I’ve found confusion almost always stems from personal choice. What possessed Alice to follow the rabbit into its hole? Why did Charles Marlow willfully continue his descent into the madness of the African Congo? And perhaps most appropriately to this story, why did Oedipus insist on asking so many damn questions he knew he wasn’t going to like the answers to? Whether I was more Alice or Oedipus, I made a very clear decision by stepping out of the brush and into the clearing. I had willingly surrendered myself into the hands of fate, only able to hold on tightly and pray that out of the vast assortment of deities I’d previously snubbed, at least one would have mercy on me. From the way my stomach flipped when her eyes locked on mine, I wasn’t exactly counting on it.

It didn’t take her long to accept my help after she recognized me. As we conversed more, what unsettled me was how much more Fluttershy had going on under the surface than the other ponies I’d spent time with. All in all she was a bit of an enigma. If Dash was more like a raging tornado of high intensity with a low attention span, Twilight was a time bomb with a high attention span and a low tolerance for… well for me; Finally, defying all previous experiences was Fluttershy, who had the highest resistance to me of any pony I’d met. As I cradled the tiny sparrow on our walk back to her house, I realized I didn’t remember her participating in the chase at all, though I was certain I had heard her voice at the offset. She glanced back at me and I instinctively looked away, feeling the same awkward admiration for her appearance I had felt when I first saw her in the clearing. It’s not that uncommon, tigers are often referred to as ‘majestic,’ dolphins are ‘cute,’ and birds are ‘pretty,’ thinking of a Pegasus as ‘beautiful’ is no different, right? Given enough time, I would have poked half a dozen holes in my justification, but an interjection from Ms. Doolittle threw my thoughts off kilter.

“Um, hold her injured wing closer to her body. She’s getting scared and thinking about struggling back over to me.” The words were firm, her soft voice surprisingly commanding. The tone wasn’t bossy however; it was unexpectedly intuitive as I felt the bird try to lurch forward the moment I closed my hands more securely over the tiny avian form. Bringing it up to my eye-level, I reprimanded it with a scowl. Cease and desist, tiny fiend; I’ll probably be paying a high price for this, so perhaps a little cooperation is in order? In response, the sparrow’s head retreated farther back into my hands, as if chagrined. I’m certain I heard a small giggle from the direction of the pony ahead of me.

“How could you tell?” I asked, “I was staring right at it the whole time. All you needed was a glance.” It wasn’t fully accurate, as I had been occasionally stealing glances at the Pegasus in question. Fluttershy shook her head, and indicated her cutie mark: three butterflies with blue bodies and matching pink wings

“It’s just my talent, I’m not really all that perceptive.” She looked away, the very picture of humility. My eyes slid back to her cutie mark. The way she walked was adorable; it was the stride of somepony who was obviously not used to leading over-compensating, endowing her gait with an almost comical bounce. Had I mentioned her mane was groomed to the point of being positively impeccable? The bounce from her walk also added an almost hypnotic sway to her tail, leaving me completely unaware for a few moments that I was gazing directly at her-

Oh look, how lovely, the sunrise. I’ll just stare into it and hope I frakking blind myself.

“How much further?” I asked, rather grumpy. The makeshift workout shirt Rarity had made for me was uncomfortable when it was dry; now damp from the run it was almost insufferable. My brow furrowed in the growing light.

“Not too much longer.” She said, smiling at me sweetly. Despite myself, I looked down at the ground, unable to meet the well-meaning gaze. Tenderhearted, patient, and humble: the ‘element of kindness’ indeed.

“You’re doing it wrong!”

Note to self: I am a terrible judge of pony character.

It was the closest I’d ever heard the Pegasus come to shouting, and it put my teeth on edge as much from surprise as it did from personal disruption.

“Calm down already I see it.”

“…You see, but you don’t observe: If the wing is set crookedly she’ll never be able to fly again.” Was- was that a smidgen of ‘holier than thou’ I detected in her voice? Pushing my personal feelings aside, I focused on applying the splint to the sedated sparrow’s wing as the first hints of perspiration formed on my forehead. I was exhausted and it showed in my responses, my reflexes and movements much more sluggish than usual. It made sense that a Pegasus would be a little extra-sensitive about the settings of wings and whatnot, but her personality shift from sweet to authoritative had been a page right out of a slightly more adorable looking She-Hulk’s play book.

Upon first arrival at the house, I was slightly intimidated. It was in a more rural area on the outskirts of town, near a small bubbling creek. Slightly smaller than the library (at least vertically), it was about average size and look for a Ponyville house, other than the plethora of surrounding birdhouses and a strangely out of place vegetative canopy which covered the roof. To my relief, the inside had been much more normal than my impression of the outside had led me to believe, other than sharing the outside’s obsession with birdhouses. After Fluttershy had fetched her first aid kit, and I had set to work at the dining room table… which was also when the weird personality quirks started coming to the surface. It was more intensity of concern than anything negative. I’d be lying though if I said the backseat driving mentality didn’t eventually start driving me a little crazy.

“Make sure you lace it tightly enough…”

“I know.”

“Careful not to restrict its airflow!”

“Got it.”

“… Is it normal for your hands to be shaking?”

“…Yes…”

The shakes were probably from a combination of irritation and post-work out anemia. Struggling with tying the final knot, my brow furrowed more deeply as the beads of sweat that had been accumulating on my furrowed brow started to drip down towards my eyes. The gentle dabbing of a washcloth covered hoof against my forehead intervened. Standing up on her back legs, Fluttershy braced herself against the table with her left foreleg for balance, using the other to aid me. I nodded to her appreciatively, trying not to let myself be distracted by the contact, or by how close her face was to mine. Wrong gender. Wrong species. There’s not even anything there to be antsy about, Kate, calm down.

“… And… done!” I stood up a little too quickly, which drew an ‘eep!’ from Fluttershy. I apologized, still trying to convince myself there was nothing out of the ordinary going on in my head. The following search took some combined effort, but we eventually found the supplies we needed: a small cardboard box, some rags, and red tape. Fluttershy watched with interest as I deftly assembled the materials, laying down the rags as bedding and poking holes in the top for ventilation. She cracked a smile as I placed the finishing touches on our little makeshift hospital, two pieces of tape on top of each other to form a crude red cross. With a grin, I displayed my handiwork to her proudly.

“You’ve done this before. And not just the box, you used the right lacing technique for the brace and everything. I couldn’t have done it by myself.” It was a look of pure gratitude, all the authoritative bossy stuff from a few minutes earlier was absent in her expression, and it was suddenly difficult to make eye contact again. Well you certainly didn’t seem very happy about it at the time. I left the begrudging sentiment unspoken; she’d only been concerned for the bird, which I could hardly blame her for, as that was why I’d abandoned my ‘cover’ in the first place.

“It’s nothing, really. My mom was a vet; she taught me a few things before- before I came here.” I hoped the Pegasus hadn’t noticed the verbal double-take, and averted my eyes over towards the living room. For whatever reason, probably my state of exhaustion, the couch looked extremely tempting. “Do you mind if I relax for a bit? I’ve been up since last night and my legs are killing me.”

“Of course, I’m so sorry I didn’t realize. Let me get you something to drink.” The look of concern previously reserved for the injured sparrow was now being directed at me, as Fluttershy hurried about the kitchen, muttering something about being a terrible host. I offered my token reassurances that it was fine, and that she shouldn’t trouble herself on my account, but in truth I was parched.

I sat down on the couch, sinking farther into it than I had expected. Oh wow this is really nice. Really nice. Actually, if I’m not careful, I might just- My lapse into nothingness must have occurred the instant my head hit the cushion. It seemed the aftereffects of my little catharsis had finally caught up with me.

Wha- where am I?

Struggling to retain my footing became my first priority; the pile of papers beneath was shifting under my weight, threatening to suck me in. Losing my balance entirely, I fell backwards and the shifting finally stopped. The room I found myself in was massive, filled with pillars and stain glass windows; the castle of Minas Tirith on a slightly smaller and more colorful scale. The scattered and disorganized papers covered and filled over the floor entirely, making it impossible to tell how tall the room actually was. Attempting to examine the content of the papers proved useless, as the text was written in some sort of foreign language, the symbols completely unfamiliar. The origin of the mess appeared to be a giant mound of papers clumped together in the center, a dispersal pattern not dissimilar to if someone had dropped a pile of leaves, only on a much more gargantuan scale.

Unable to see an exit, I staggered forward, and made my way towards the giant pile in the center, hoping to gain a better vantage on my surroundings. Trying to climb the pile was like running up the wrong escalator, an exercise in futility that finally paid off as I lifted myself up at the top. I panted, out of breath.

“BOO!”

“AUGH! –Ohno” Pin wheeling from the scare, I probably would have tipped over and slid all the way back down had a burst of Telekinesis not prevented my fall, pushing me back onto the pile. An alicorn with a colorful mane was buried waist deep in the pile of papers. She gave me a pointed look through a pair of reading glasses, maintaining sobriety only for a moment before devolving into giggles at my confused expression.

“Greetings Kate. Sorry, I couldn’t resist. If it makes you feel better I dropped my pen to catch you.”

“Er- Princess Celestia?”

“In the flesh. Well, not exactly.” She indicated a pile of papers over near a corner. “Lulu would say hello as well, but she’s a little buried in work at the moment, if you know what I mean.”

A single dark blue hoof stuck out from the distant pile of papers and waved, before receding back in. Princess Celestia turned back to me. “Anyway, on behalf of both of us, welcome to Canterlot Castle! I’d apologize for the mess but… we both know that would be a little ironic.”

My jaw dropped, surveying the room. “All this is because of me?” Celestia nodded, signing another paper and tossing it as it appeared to self-obliterate.

“See why I was a teensy-weensy bit passive-aggressive in the letter now?” Though it was difficult, I wisely chose to refrain from pointing out the fact that she had very clearly made implied threats to my health. If that was her idea of ‘passive,’ I didn’t want to see ‘aggressive.’

“What on earth did I do to cause so much trouble?”

“It’s not so much a question of ‘what’ as it is a question of ‘who’” she said, smiling esoterically.

“I still don’t get it.”

“I’m honestly surprised you haven’t figured it out by now. Well, to put it simply, you are the result of a slight cosmic miscalculation. And slight miscalculations echo far too loudly in bureaucratic circles.” The revelation was uttered like common knowledge; her voice was kind and sympathetic… which only compounded my skepticism

“Uh, come again?”

“Because of the paradox of your existence, you could say the universe holds a slight grudge against you. Since it sees you as an agent of entropy, it sometimes sees fit to take out frustrations on you.” the princess stated, matter-of-factly. I bristled.

“That can’t possibly be-“

…Well… that… actually would explain a lot.

“Why?” I asked, suddenly finding it very difficult to speak. Celestia brought her pen to her mouth, tapping it against her lips thoughtfully.

“Its way above my pay grade, as I only tend to this particular dimension. But a simple anomaly of this magnitude is very unlikely. It’s entirely possible that instead of naturally occurring, you were manufactured… for entertainment.” I froze. I’m not sure I could have imagined a more horrible answer. My voice gave out, cracking on the final query

“Entertainment for whom?”

Celestia nodded to me proudly, as if I were a pupil who had finally grasped a difficult concept.

“Now you’re asking the right question.”

“Kate! Wake up, Kate!” My eyes shot open to a golden Pegasus shaking me awake, her long pink hair cascading just beside my head. “You were having a nightmare…” It was the most tangible relief I’d ever felt waking from a dream. I sat up, trying to reorient myself with my surroundings.

“Sorry Fluttershy, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.” I mumbled, my vision still hazy.

“You looked like you needed it, so I let you have a few hours,” she said supportively. Wait… a few hours? What time is it? The light was drastically different than it had been when I’d originally sat down. Judging from the sun’s position in the sky it was at least noon. I really need to change, but can’t get back to the Library now. Urgh. As if reading my mind, Fluttershy held up a bag, putting it down next to me so she could speak.

“Um, when I was out running errands, I stopped by Twilight’s for a while and picked you up a change of clothes before I left. I figured you wouldn’t want to go out in the middle of the day because of… well because of what happened last time. I hope that was okay…”

“No, I really appreciate it, thank you.” Inside the bag was my casualwear, along with some soaps and other hygiene stuff, essentially everything that would usually go in an overnight bag. The Pegasus suddenly looked down at her hoofs, uncomfortable. I had wondered if it had less of an effect on you, since you didn’t chase me at the beginning, but that’s just silly. I don’t want to make things worse for you. It’s fine. “You know, you already let me sleep, and I really don’t want to impose. I’ll just change real quick and head back to the library.” Fluttershy was still struggling to get something out as I turned to leave, trying to conceal my disappointment. I was almost to the door when she tugged on my shirt with her mouth, wordlessly asking me to wait.

“I’d- er. –that is to say, I’d be happy to have as my guest for the day… unless you’d rather go back to the library that is- which is fine if you do- I would just be, you know, happy if you stayed.” She looked down at her hoofs again, and I realized with some small gladness that she’d just been too nervous to ask me at first. The alarm bells are still going off Kate… Alarm bells or not, my options were fairly black and white. Either stay for a few hours with one of the few ponies in Ponyville who hadn’t run me down, or brave the entire town, half of which had tried to run me down. This was my best option.

What could possibly go wrong?

The day itself was a lot more innocent than I had expected. Fluttershy’s house was a nice change of pace from the library, and I was starting to think the princess was correct in her theory that unicorns were the most strongly affected. Having worked at Fluttershy’s side tending the animals most of the day, I learned that I had an effect on her, but it wasn’t cumulative the way it was with Twilight. There were a few instances where I brushed against her accidentally and she would blush, or even one extremely awkward point where we had extended contact and her wings extended. It simply didn’t escalate the same way it did with Twilight. As long as I realized my mistake and backed off quickly things were fine, though I was sure it was somewhat embarrassing for Fluttershy. It wasn’t until late in the evening when everything really went sideways, all starting when I was fishing around for a toothbrush and found that next to my bag.

The plastic bottles clinking against the glass of a previously unseen second bag caught my attention. Reaching down to pick up the second bag I found it was surprisingly heavy. Inside was a large unlabeled bottle with a bow around its neck, filled to the brim with some sort of amber liquid.

“What the heck is this?” I wondered aloud, to no one in particular.

“Oh! I forgot to mention, Applejack dropped that off at the library this morning as a little ‘apology’ gift. If you’ve not heard of it… the Apple family’s cider is really… nice.” I unintentionally cringed at the mention of Applejack’s name, a poorly timed expression that wasn’t lost on Fluttershy. “Oh- do you not like cider?” Trying to rid myself of the mental image of Applejack chasing me down the street with a rope in her teeth, I shuddered a bit.

“No, I’m fine with cider.”

“Then… do you… not like Applejack?” Intending to deny it, I opened my mouth and then stopped. How exactly was I going to explain it? Well, you see Fluttershy, when I was eight years old; I watched Pulp Fiction because my dad left it in the VHS player. Ever since then, I’ve been absolutely terrified of being abducted by rednecks. Also of gimps, but that’s beside the point. That answer would raise way too many questions I didn’t want to address. It took me few seconds to notice that the Pegasus had taken my lack of an answer as an answer. She leaned forward, anger written on her face for the first time.

“I know Applejack; She can be stubborn sometimes and she makes mistakes, but if she apologizes, she means it! You shouldn’t reject her feelings that way. ” I was stunned at the direct confrontation, a daze that lasted only for a moment. Realizing my mistake, I stood up, feeling guilty for even pushing Fluttershy far enough to get angry in the first place. The last thing I wanted now was a rift after several hours of bonding. I grabbed two mugs out of the cupboard.

“Want to crack it open with me then?” Her face softening into a smile was all I needed as an answer. “Just wondering, I’ve only had hot cider a few times, is this better hot or cold?” Her nose wrinkled.

“You might not like it then… I’ve always had it chilled.” I shook my head, filling both mugs halfway with ice.

“I’ll try it your way, sounds delicious.” Flashing her my best ‘I’m trying to make it up to you’ smile I sat back down at the table, filling both mugs up to the brim. The liquid had a syrupy, sweet smell. Fluttershy’s eyes widened

“Oh that’s really too much-“ I stopped her, and waved off what I assumed was a continuation of her OCD politeness.

“Nonsense, I gave us the same amount.” Staring down at the cup, she was still oddly conflicted.

“No I couldn’t possibly-“

“You can. I want to share this with you, its fine.” Why does she have to be so darn polite? Trying not to make too much direct contact, I patted her gently on the top of her head. After a short delay, a cute determination played across her face in response.

“I, okay, I- I’ll try.”

We drank at the same time. I was about to stop after a small swig of the substance, planning to savor it, but to my surprise Fluttershy was gulping hers down all at once, so I followed suit. It was both thick and sweet, a honey-like nectar with a bizarre aftertaste I couldn’t quite place. I finished a few seconds after the Pegasus, placing my mug on the table with a gentle clink.

Note to self: Pony Cider does not look, smell, or taste like alcohol. However, it is most definitely alcohol. It is also only intended to be taken in shots, not entire mugs.

A good half hour later the intellectual level of the conversation had been driven down significantly. The parts I could remember, anyway. The room was spinning in giggles and nausea, and the question of whether I was upside down or right-side up was completely debatable. All I knew for sure was that the Pegasus next to me was keeping me warm, lying on the couch with her head on my lap.

“So everypony gave you a hard time for flirting with Big Mac?-bahah-I’m really not laughing at you, it’s just that things are completely different here-hic-heheh.” Fluttershy looked away, her cheeks rosy with embarrassment.

“It was just a-hic phase. You’re-hic changing the subject though.”

In my limited prior experience I had a tendency towards being a happy drunk, but Fluttershy seemed intent on killing my buzz with concentrated doses of sympathy and amateur psychology. While she was sweet for trying, it seemed like the alcohol completely killed her shyness, yet another personality quirk that threw me for a loop. Having picked up on a crack I made about not being able to maintain friendships in any dimension, she had locked in, unwilling to let it go

“I thought things would have been going well for you at the library. It seems like you’d be right up Twilight’s alley” The Pegasus gazed up at me like I was some complex puzzle to be solved. Good luck with that, I doubt you’ll make any more progress in a drunken stupor than I’ve made in a lifetime, and I still haven’t figured it out.

“A little too up her alley, as it turns out. Come on Shy, I don’t really want to talk about it. Especially behind Twilight’s back- or is that behind her Flank? Is it behind her back or behind her flank, cause technically to talk behind her back I’d have to be somewhere up in the sky, youknowwhatImean?” When you’re struggling not to laugh how slurred your own speech sounds, it’s probably a good indicator that you’ve had too much. Yeah, I’ll admit it; I’ve always been a complete lightweight. A couple of sugary margaritas with the umbrellas at On the Border were usually more than enough to book me a one way trip to loopy-town, and I had just consumed a large serving of what I could only equate to the equestrian Jim Hennessey. It was a small miracle I was still conscious.

“It’s still ‘back.’ Stop-hic trying to deflect me Kate. If we don’t talk about it, we can’t fix it.” She insisted, eyes imbued with an unusual insistence. What is this psychobabble ‘we’ stuff Dr. Shy? No longer resting on my lap, Fluttershy was leaning over me, trying to maintain level eye contact, despite the height difference.

“It can’t be fixed. Don’t worry about. I had hoped things would get better in college- advanced schooling, for humans my age.” Listlessly, I poured myself another, smaller portion of the cider. “Turns out ‘experimentation’ is even more common there, or it was at my college, anyway. Even here, traipsing into another world entirely and nothing really changes. I’m a big girl, I can deal with it.” Ugh, I hope she’s not looking at me with that ‘you-poor-thing’ face. My heart might melt-

“That’s only assuming you’re right, and even if you are, feeling sorry for yourself won’t accomplish anything.” Her benign glare abruptly cut off that line of thought. Zing… Direct hit. Shut-down by the element of kindness. Hold on; let me pick my dignity up off the ground real quick. While her voice was more chiding than judgmental, the words still hit home. If anything, the discernment had earned a bit of my respect… or maybe I was just inclined to agree with her because she was holding the cider out of my reach.

“Gimme-“ As Fluttershy jerked back to keep the bottle out of my reach and almost lost her balance, I grumpily decided on another course of action. Use your words Kate. “Okay, just for the sake of argument, let’s say you’re right, and there’s some convenient-hic Macguffin here in Equestria that can solve all my problems. Sooo what-hic is it?” Alcohol; where eloquence goes to die. Fluttershy temporarily lost her confident and commanding demeanor, briefly returning to a more familiar level of timid.

“Um… I read a book once whose main character had a similar issue, the Princess and the Plebeian… Short version: her best friend gave her a mingle mark, so other ponies would think she was taken. It worked pretty well, but then- er, I mean, well the rest is just a story.” The Pegasus tapped her hooves together tepidly, and looked everywhere but directly at me.

“What’s a mingle mark?” Other than the obvious relation to a cutie mark, the term was unfamiliar to me; had I not been intoxicated, I probably would have noticed how careful the Pegasus became in choosing her words.

“Well, it’s like a magical indicator of commitment, from one pony to another. Their cutie marks become entangled for as long as they stay loyal to each other. It’s... nice. Do you know the Cakes?” I shook my head dismissively, still trying to decipher what she was suggesting.

“I know of them, I don’t know them personally.”

“They’re both really nice. But before they were together, Ms. Cake had white frosting on the goodies in her cutie mark, and Mr. Cake had pink frosting on his. Now with their mingle mark, it’s the opposite” Her line of reasoning abruptly connected with mine. It was brilliant plan all things considered, save one glaring problem.

“I think I get what you’re proposing, and you’re really sweet to offer, but since I don’t have a cutie mark that wouldn’t work, would it?” Maybe she thought I was completely oblivious to the nature of her suggestion, because her eybrows raised, wiggling up and down in an incredulous manner. She was the very picture of a pony with her hoof caught it the cookie jar.

“Oh no!” She squeaked, the high pitched justification not helping to make her look any less guilty. ”It wasn’t a proposal, it’s not the same as proposing, and it was just- um-“

“Hypothetical?”

“YES. Hypothetical.” Fluttershy struggled to pour herself another drink. Intending to assist, I reached out to take the bottle from her brushing her side. FWOOMP. Ignoring any possible connotation in the sudden expanse of wingspan, I served her a small portion of the cider and handed it to her, looking away while she got her wings under control. Downing the glass, she slammed it on the table with a bang, the jarring impact nearly giving me a heart attack. “NOT HYPOTHETICAL. Griffon and Pony relationships are considered very progressive, and are still fairly rare. But there are confirmed, documented cases of a griffon receiving part of a pony’s mingle mark on their lower leg, even without having a cutie mark of their own. It’s not been confirmed, but rumor has it the same thing happens with dragons as well.” Panting from the sudden outburst, the Pegasus recovered quietly while I shifted uncomfortably, vehemently wishing the pounding in my head would stop impeding my ability to think. What am I missing here? Why is this so hard for her to talk about?

“Why go so far for me? Assuming for a moment that the mark actually took: Your friends would tease, and there’s a good chance it would be really awkward… having a fake relationship, it just doesn’t seem fair to you. Hypothetically of course.” I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation. Applejack, another round please. My head spun. It was probably about time to call it a night on the cider.

“Kindness is its own reward.” She looked pointedly over to the makeshift cardboard hospital that still held the sparrow and back to me, determined, the double-meaning in her words plain as day. I sighed.

“That wasn’t a big deal. You don’t have to-“

“…No… I want to.”

“So just… er… in theory, what does this involve? Some sort of magic thing? A ritual?” The question caught her in the middle of carefully plucking a single feather near the tip of her wing with her mouth. It wasn’t hard to gather from the reddening expression on her face that I had guessed incorrectly. And here comes the catch.

“I think discussing that calls for another glass of cider.” Well, that bodes well… Heeding the advice regardless, I poured us both another glass of slightly larger portions, though nowhere near as large as our initial serving.

“To friendship” Raising my glass in a mock toast, I smiled at her crookedly. I really should have taken the rampant slurring in my voice as a warning sign; my alcohol tolerance had already been pushed to its limit. It was like having a brain freeze in reverse, the delayed reaction made me woozy, more so by the second. Fluttershy was experiencing a similar reaction, though she was far more task oriented.

Before I even realized what was happening it had started. I guess Fluttershy figured it would be easier to show me than to tell me. She turned and pressed the feather slightly above my chest with her hoof, a feeling of warmth that spread from that point and resonated throughout my body. The pressure continued and pushed me back onto the couch, and for a few long moments that seemed to stretch into eternity, the Pegasus hovered over me.

This is bad. This is really really bad, snap out of it Kate!

Her long pink hair formed a cotton candy colored curtain around my head, blocking out all outside distractions as she descended, eyes locked on mine.

Danger! Danger Kate Winsor! The pony is set on a collision course with your head! Abort!

My alarm bells were dwarfed by the sensation of experiencing magic for the first time. It was an unforgettable, strangely intimate experience. I could feel Fluttershy, her heart, her emotions. They made no sense, completely the opposite of what I had come to expect of anyone, human or pony aside. They were pure. She wanted to help me, wanted my happiness. The cynicism of reality had changed my perspective. A year ago, I would have bitterly stated that there’s no such thing as true selflessness; that even the greatest charity stems from a desire for self-fulfillment, whether the reciprocity is bound in reality or took its form in some sort of spiritual brownie points. Perhaps that was an overly generalizing conclusion

Perhaps I was wrong.

Can we self-reflect at a slightly more appropriate time? Introspection great and all, but right now the walls are being sieged, the troops are retreating, and you’re about to let a pony open the pod bay doors.

Fluttershy stopped with her face inches from mine, her expression tinged with the uncertainty of somepony timidly asking permission. Closing my eyes, I surrendered. I felt the warm lips pressing against mine the moment before I blacked out.

Note to self: I’m officially going to hell.

Ugh… where am I. The first mistake I made was opening my eyes. Outside light invaded my skull like legion of gremlins; my brain serving as their all-you-can-eat buffet. It was a massively unpleasant sensation, one that somehow managed to top my previous most excruciating hangover. The previous holder of the worst hangover title was acquired at my first sorority party at college, also known as my last sorority party at college. I still have nightmares thinking about all those pictures that went up on facebook. I hid my face under the pillow I was hugging, begging for sleep to take me under again. The pillow’s forelegs reached around my neck, drawing me in a mutual embrace, significantly more conscious and less hung-over than I was.

Wait... Oh crap.

It took my sluggish mind about three whole seconds to send the signal for my heart to explode. My eyes flew open, headache pain almost completely disregarded; as I adjusted to the light, more details of my own damnation came into focus. I was in an unfamiliar bedroom; Pink hair, a golden coat, and blue eyes that pierced straight through me watched me wake with a smile. My state of half undress and the manner my arms were still wrapped around her was almost too incriminating.

“You’re squeezing a little tightly” she whispered, her face three different shades of red. Hastily, I withdrew my arms, wrapping them around myself. A single question ran rampant through my subconscious, my mind running tiny circles that would have rivaled the thought process of a recently decapitated chicken: WHAT HAPPENED WHAT HAPPENED OH DEAR GOD WHAT HAPPENED.

Rubbing my own shoulders, I found myself shivering, my stomach tying itself in knots.

”I… kind of blacked out. What… happened…?”

“You mean you don’t remember?!” Fluttershy squeaked.

“…No, I- I don’t. That bad?” The tone of her voice wasn’t helping.

“Um…Emotions were running hot after the joining, it’s not an uncommon reaction, perfectly normal… but we might have... um… done-some-things.” She said the last part all at once, as if trying to sprint past it. Her ears were splayed back, the inside of them blushing scarlet. I flopped back down, using the actual pillow to cover my head with a groan. That might be a possibility you mention before hand, Fluttershy. If it managed to invoke that strong of a reaction I’m not sure I can even stand the thought of asking for specifics. Oh, did I mention that I’m now officially going to hell?

“Ugh, how did we even get back here? I kind of doubt you carried me.” I was borderline desperate to find any humor in the situation. The image of Fluttershy dragging me down the hallway was morbidly amusing… until she responded.

“Um… actually… you kind-of-sort-of carried me…” I did WHAT? I pulled the pillow even tighter over my face, smothering a strangled laugh. Don’t ask questions Kate. It never ends well. Also, just in case you forgot, you’re going to hell.

“Guess what though?” Barely able to hear her voice through the pillow, I really didn’t want to ‘guess what.’

“… What?”

“The mingle mark showed up!”

What is this heresy? Actual good news? Abandoning my hiding place under the pillow, I sat up, somewhat excitedly.

“Where?”

“It’s right-“

The sound of somepony entering Fluttershy’s front door jarred us both out of our trance
“Fluttershy dear, don’t tell me you forgot spa day!”

“Bathroom, run!” she hissed, turning bright crimson and pushing me towards it. I scooped up the mess of my clothing off the floor, trying my best to conceal any visible incriminating evidence and hustled into the bathroom, my heart racing a mile a minute. More concentrated on throwing my clothes on than looking in the mirror, I almost missed the mark on the base of my spine, something that definitely wasn’t there the previous night. Upon closer inspection, I realized it had to be the mingle mark, a pink winged butterfly with a blue body, exactly like the ones on Fluttershy’s cutie mark. I was momentarily delighted... until the combination of location and design dawned on me. My forehead hit the counter with a thump.

What are the odds of-… it’s a butterfly…tramp-stamp. Why oh why did it have to be a tramp-stamp. Hey, look on the bright side Kate! You’re all set to join the cast of Jersey Shore! All you need now is to throw on something slutty and bash your head against the wall until your IQ matches your shoe size. Wooptie-Freaking-Doo. If that wasn’t bad enough already, I realized managed to grab everything except for my pants. Why is it always my pants.

Rarity’s cheery voice interrupted my internal lament. Fluttershy would cover for me, or so I hoped.

“You can’t hide that mark from me Fluttershy! Oh how very exciting, you found your special somepony! She’s a mare isn’t she- I wondered why your hair was all askew, I bet she’s still here-“

“Um no, definitely not here, nope, I don’t know what you’re talking about. No need to look in the bathroom.” Barely suppressing a groan at the poor attempt of a lie, I stepped away so the door wouldn’t hit me when it inevitably swung open. Their voices were definitely drawing closer.

I took a mental tally of the hangover:

Throbbing migraine?

Check.

Missing pants?

Check.

Unwanted tattoo?

Check.

Possible Promiscuous activity with a female pony?

…Check.

Said Promiscuity about to be discovered by the town gossip?

Check.

Going to Hell?

Without a doubt.

Note to self: I am never touching cider again

AN: Sorry this took so long. I rewrote it twice before deciding that a manipulative Fluttershy was just not going to work, so a lot had to be rewritten a third time. Just to clear something up, don’t take Kate’s dream with Celestia too seriously. The main point of the dream was to reintroduce Celestia’s planned personality a bit, and rip on Kate’s insecurities a little. Celestia won’t be nearly as unlikable as some people were getting the impression she would be from the last chapter. See, I listen to feedback X). EDIT: Also, the new format is finally fixed.