"Aren't you going to greet your guest?" Spitfire cocked an eyebrow and crossed her brawny arms over her prodigious chest, more extensive than the human's torso. Vergel, she thought, could be excused for being under a lot of stress given his situation, but that excuse had a limit at arrogance and contempt towards her ponies; that was utterly unacceptable. Only when Spitfire's narrowed eyes fell upon the human did he gather all the strength he could to inch towards the half-ton of pony that the sagging floor was forced to support. The three assembled in the now too-small room had an earthy musk that toyed with his sinuses, like the first rain on dirt after a long dry period, with a subtle hint of cocoa and peanuts, and their fat-laden bodies radiated more heat than a wood stove. Vergel ambled up to Soarin without much choice or will to protest, slinking close to shake hands with a bulky mountain of a soldier that placidly filled up a majority of his living room.
To Soarin, though, handshakes felt informal and cold, and in his world, tighter embraces meant more satisfying introductions; he wouldn't settle for just a handshake when hugging made an instant friend. Judging from the bug-eyed and droopy expression the accommodating host wore, the human needed a best friend and fast. "H-how do you - "Vergel started to say, but before he could finish, the smallest of the three ponies in his house, still colossal, yanked him off his feet and smothered him into his chest, squeezing the breath from his lungs and burying his face into his uniform. Soarin's embrace, capable of bone-snapping paralysis, was surprisingly gentle while he cheerfully swung his hapless prey like he had found an old childhood toy that had been assumed lost to the passage of time.
"Good to meet you!" bellowed Soarin good-heartedly as he squeezed him deeper into his chest. Buried inside a womb of muscle and flab, Vergel was constricted to a narrow tunnel of flesh between the pony's moobs to breathe, but his muffled voice only carried so far, subdued by the stallion's heartbeat.
"Good...too...meet you...too, Soarin!" Vergel tried to match his guest's enthusiasm. Then, just as quickly as it happened, Soarin released his victim and placed him gently on the floor once satisfying his need for friendly affection. Spitfire and Rainbow Dash smirked and shook their heads when Vergel finally balanced himself on unsteady feet after a couple of labored breaths, hurried back into his corner, sucking down oxygen the way a diver does when coming up for air. The average pony can easily crush a human's spine and all of their ribs in one of their hugs, but Soarin was sure to be careful-ish with him. "S-so, now that you're all here, w-what do you want?" he asked eventually, smoothing out the creases in his clothes.
Already the human began to harbor the scent of another creature on his skin; rain-soaked moss, fallen leaves, and freshly dug roots - smells that indeed wasn't part of his species by a long shot. "Well," Spitfire said as she stepped forward from the nest the human had made for her to explain, the floor shaking underneath her footfalls. "I didn't want to say anything earlier, but since Dash brought it up, I could go for some food, too. And I'm sure Soarin wouldn't say no to something to eat either if he had the same flight Rainbow did. Besides, your dossier says that you're a cook, so three of us isn't too much to handle, right?"
"I don't want to start imposing right off the bat, but, yeah, I could eat." Soarin blushed and dropped his head, muttering under his breath like a child caught in the cookie jar. The words' your dossier says' blew a gust of wind into Vergel's sails, pushing his craft into the port of anxiety. The equestrian government didn't like to advertise this, but it's a well-known fact that humans were monitored with particular scrutiny. Now he was with two mares and a stallion that had easy access to all his personal information. He jumped to his feet, his ruddy blue eyes meeting Spitfire's orange ones. "No, no, I'm a pastry chef, not a cook. I make pies and tarts and those little overpriced croissants you find at tourist traps. I'm sure you all want more than cream horns and eclairs for a meal, right?"
Rainbow Dash waved a hand confidently. "Serves what you know about being sure; that is, word for word, what we were hoping you would make us when we found out you own a bakery. And I'm sure you can afford to stay home for one day to help little old us settle into our new barracks, right? I hope Spitfire's truck brought enough crates for you to use!" She chuckled, prompting her commanding officer to giggle along with airy delight - Ponies were proud of their appetite, and Rainbow had the biggest of the three, evident by her size.
"But..." Vergel trailed off, trying to wiggle out from his herculean responsibilities. "Don't people need vegetables, meat, fruit? You can't live off -"
Soarin spoke up, smiling. "Believe it or not, we can. Humans might need to balance protein, dairy, grain, and vegetables, but we have magic. We can make nutrients out of anything we eat - and we prefer to eat sweets." He beamed with pride as if a great accomplishment bespoke his and his kind's stupidly perfect physiology. "My mom always said that as long as I keep myself fed, I can eat whatever I want, and us Ponies gotta eat!" He followed up the statement with an articulate pat to his sagging belly that made his uniform sway with the frequency of ocean waves. The human's mouth hung open uselessly.
"...al-alright then. I'll just...start cooking," Vergel said slowly as he cautiously made his way to the kitchen from the living room, gently brushing up against the Spitfire's prodigious heft as he did so.
It had taken around an hour, in which time the house's kitchen resembled more of a warzone, but Vergel managed to make the feast demanded by his guests. During that time, the trio of ponies had settled into their new home for the time being. The human barely eft the kitchen, but he didn't need to; he could hear well enough how everything was being explored, poked, and prodded at, rearranged as his guests took over. Rainbow Dash claimed the master bedroom upstairs, since she was the biggest, while initially was going to take over the human's room downstairs, but offered to trade places with Spitfire's living room nest. "Mm-hmm!" Rainbow Dash said as she entered into the kitchen, the first to change from her traditional uniform to her civilian clothes. "Smells delicious! What did you cook?!"
Sporting a slight headache from the confusion leftover from an hour ago, Vergel looked over at Dash over the breakfast bar that acted as a barrier between the kitchen and the living room. She sat down with a heavy thump on the floor, wearing a black tank-top, blue denim shorts that looked to be near the bursting point, sandals, and a black ball-cap that displayed the air force's sigil; a lightning bolt over a pair of pegasus wings. She had taken the liberty of having a shower, though the sweet, rooty smell still clung to her fur, and he was afraid to see how the bathroom faired. Still, Vergel had to admit, Dash's coat had come out brilliantly, her pale cerulean now a bit brighter or more glossy in the light. He couldn't help but admire how soft and fluffy it looked and was sorely tempted to go over and stroke -
Vergel mentally slapped himself. 'What the hell are you thinking?!' Pushing his temporary loss of sanity to the back of his mind, he looked back to Rainbow Dash. "Umm, everything?" he replied honestly. Everything was more or less right. Vergel had cooked practically all he had in the kitchen without touching the rations; eggs and bacon, pancakes and syrup, has browns, cheese on toast, toast and jam, grilled tomatoes, and many other dishes - and he had to do at least several of each fare.
"Great!" Dash's tongue hung out the side of her face, panting like she hadn't had a drink in a week. "Where's my first course?! Come on, give it to me! I'm starving!" Vergel blinked his eyes rapidly and hurried to shovel food onto Dash's plate while still juggling the cooking he had already set out to perform for the other two guests. He started the cerulean pony's breakfast with around three dozen scrambled eggs, which the mare promptly devoured once Vergel set the plate in front of her, leaving no evidence that he had made a thing at all.
"Still hungry, I hope you have more!" She let out a toothy smile that made the human's hairs stand on the back of his neck. The pancakes took a little more effort, as he had to juggle four different pants on four burners, but he did his best to deliver. One by one, the stacks of pancakes mounted to a total of under fifty that found their way in front of Dash, who sat idly and rubbed her hungry belly, raising his eyebrows and tapping her foot. "Took you long enough." She said, narrowing her eyes, inhaling the pancakes before Vergel had the chance to give her syrup.
"Glad you like them." Was all Vergel could say, blinking slowly at how fast the food had vanished.
"What else are you making?" She stifled a small belch with the back of her hand. "I'm still hungry."
"I hope you're leaving some food for the rest of us, wing commander." Spitfire entered the scene, taking her seat by her subordinate opposite the breakfast bar. "He has two other guests to worry about feeding."
Soarin halted Vergel from hurrying back to the stove, having masked his heavy footfalls behind his captain, entered the kitchen as undetected before putting a heavy hand down on the human's shoulder. "You know, Mister Vader..." He had a soft, sympathetic smile on his face, trying to calm the man down. "We're not picky eaters; you can order pizza if this is a little too much."
Vergel widened his eyes and looked at Soarin like he just told him a kilogram of feathers weighs the same as a kilogram of steel. "...oh."
To Soarin, though, handshakes felt informal and cold, and in his world, tighter embraces meant more satisfying introductions; he wouldn't settle for just a handshake when hugging made an instant friend. Judging from the bug-eyed and droopy expression the accommodating host wore, the human needed a best friend and fast. "H-how do you - "Vergel started to say, but before he could finish, the smallest of the three ponies in his house, still colossal, yanked him off his feet and smothered him into his chest, squeezing the breath from his lungs and burying his face into his uniform. Soarin's embrace, capable of bone-snapping paralysis, was surprisingly gentle while he cheerfully swung his hapless prey like he had found an old childhood toy that had been assumed lost to the passage of time.
"Good to meet you!" bellowed Soarin good-heartedly as he squeezed him deeper into his chest. Buried inside a womb of muscle and flab, Vergel was constricted to a narrow tunnel of flesh between the pony's moobs to breathe, but his muffled voice only carried so far, subdued by the stallion's heartbeat.
"Good...too...meet you...too, Soarin!" Vergel tried to match his guest's enthusiasm. Then, just as quickly as it happened, Soarin released his victim and placed him gently on the floor once satisfying his need for friendly affection. Spitfire and Rainbow Dash smirked and shook their heads when Vergel finally balanced himself on unsteady feet after a couple of labored breaths, hurried back into his corner, sucking down oxygen the way a diver does when coming up for air. The average pony can easily crush a human's spine and all of their ribs in one of their hugs, but Soarin was sure to be careful-ish with him. "S-so, now that you're all here, w-what do you want?" he asked eventually, smoothing out the creases in his clothes.
Already the human began to harbor the scent of another creature on his skin; rain-soaked moss, fallen leaves, and freshly dug roots - smells that indeed wasn't part of his species by a long shot. "Well," Spitfire said as she stepped forward from the nest the human had made for her to explain, the floor shaking underneath her footfalls. "I didn't want to say anything earlier, but since Dash brought it up, I could go for some food, too. And I'm sure Soarin wouldn't say no to something to eat either if he had the same flight Rainbow did. Besides, your dossier says that you're a cook, so three of us isn't too much to handle, right?"
"I don't want to start imposing right off the bat, but, yeah, I could eat." Soarin blushed and dropped his head, muttering under his breath like a child caught in the cookie jar. The words' your dossier says' blew a gust of wind into Vergel's sails, pushing his craft into the port of anxiety. The equestrian government didn't like to advertise this, but it's a well-known fact that humans were monitored with particular scrutiny. Now he was with two mares and a stallion that had easy access to all his personal information. He jumped to his feet, his ruddy blue eyes meeting Spitfire's orange ones. "No, no, I'm a pastry chef, not a cook. I make pies and tarts and those little overpriced croissants you find at tourist traps. I'm sure you all want more than cream horns and eclairs for a meal, right?"
Rainbow Dash waved a hand confidently. "Serves what you know about being sure; that is, word for word, what we were hoping you would make us when we found out you own a bakery. And I'm sure you can afford to stay home for one day to help little old us settle into our new barracks, right? I hope Spitfire's truck brought enough crates for you to use!" She chuckled, prompting her commanding officer to giggle along with airy delight - Ponies were proud of their appetite, and Rainbow had the biggest of the three, evident by her size.
"But..." Vergel trailed off, trying to wiggle out from his herculean responsibilities. "Don't people need vegetables, meat, fruit? You can't live off -"
Soarin spoke up, smiling. "Believe it or not, we can. Humans might need to balance protein, dairy, grain, and vegetables, but we have magic. We can make nutrients out of anything we eat - and we prefer to eat sweets." He beamed with pride as if a great accomplishment bespoke his and his kind's stupidly perfect physiology. "My mom always said that as long as I keep myself fed, I can eat whatever I want, and us Ponies gotta eat!" He followed up the statement with an articulate pat to his sagging belly that made his uniform sway with the frequency of ocean waves. The human's mouth hung open uselessly.
"...al-alright then. I'll just...start cooking," Vergel said slowly as he cautiously made his way to the kitchen from the living room, gently brushing up against the Spitfire's prodigious heft as he did so.
It had taken around an hour, in which time the house's kitchen resembled more of a warzone, but Vergel managed to make the feast demanded by his guests. During that time, the trio of ponies had settled into their new home for the time being. The human barely eft the kitchen, but he didn't need to; he could hear well enough how everything was being explored, poked, and prodded at, rearranged as his guests took over. Rainbow Dash claimed the master bedroom upstairs, since she was the biggest, while initially was going to take over the human's room downstairs, but offered to trade places with Spitfire's living room nest. "Mm-hmm!" Rainbow Dash said as she entered into the kitchen, the first to change from her traditional uniform to her civilian clothes. "Smells delicious! What did you cook?!"
Sporting a slight headache from the confusion leftover from an hour ago, Vergel looked over at Dash over the breakfast bar that acted as a barrier between the kitchen and the living room. She sat down with a heavy thump on the floor, wearing a black tank-top, blue denim shorts that looked to be near the bursting point, sandals, and a black ball-cap that displayed the air force's sigil; a lightning bolt over a pair of pegasus wings. She had taken the liberty of having a shower, though the sweet, rooty smell still clung to her fur, and he was afraid to see how the bathroom faired. Still, Vergel had to admit, Dash's coat had come out brilliantly, her pale cerulean now a bit brighter or more glossy in the light. He couldn't help but admire how soft and fluffy it looked and was sorely tempted to go over and stroke -
Vergel mentally slapped himself. 'What the hell are you thinking?!' Pushing his temporary loss of sanity to the back of his mind, he looked back to Rainbow Dash. "Umm, everything?" he replied honestly. Everything was more or less right. Vergel had cooked practically all he had in the kitchen without touching the rations; eggs and bacon, pancakes and syrup, has browns, cheese on toast, toast and jam, grilled tomatoes, and many other dishes - and he had to do at least several of each fare.
"Great!" Dash's tongue hung out the side of her face, panting like she hadn't had a drink in a week. "Where's my first course?! Come on, give it to me! I'm starving!" Vergel blinked his eyes rapidly and hurried to shovel food onto Dash's plate while still juggling the cooking he had already set out to perform for the other two guests. He started the cerulean pony's breakfast with around three dozen scrambled eggs, which the mare promptly devoured once Vergel set the plate in front of her, leaving no evidence that he had made a thing at all.
"Still hungry, I hope you have more!" She let out a toothy smile that made the human's hairs stand on the back of his neck. The pancakes took a little more effort, as he had to juggle four different pants on four burners, but he did his best to deliver. One by one, the stacks of pancakes mounted to a total of under fifty that found their way in front of Dash, who sat idly and rubbed her hungry belly, raising his eyebrows and tapping her foot. "Took you long enough." She said, narrowing her eyes, inhaling the pancakes before Vergel had the chance to give her syrup.
"Glad you like them." Was all Vergel could say, blinking slowly at how fast the food had vanished.
"What else are you making?" She stifled a small belch with the back of her hand. "I'm still hungry."
"I hope you're leaving some food for the rest of us, wing commander." Spitfire entered the scene, taking her seat by her subordinate opposite the breakfast bar. "He has two other guests to worry about feeding."
Soarin halted Vergel from hurrying back to the stove, having masked his heavy footfalls behind his captain, entered the kitchen as undetected before putting a heavy hand down on the human's shoulder. "You know, Mister Vader..." He had a soft, sympathetic smile on his face, trying to calm the man down. "We're not picky eaters; you can order pizza if this is a little too much."
Vergel widened his eyes and looked at Soarin like he just told him a kilogram of feathers weighs the same as a kilogram of steel. "...oh."
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April 19
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