Anon and Amber Eyes 1: The Autism Begins (Birbs)

>You sit and watch the pigeon-ponies gathering around the park, chatting with each other and occasionally mooching off the tourists.
>You reflect on what you know about them.
>Most Equestrians find the nomadic bird-ponies annoying, since they have a reputation as lazy thieves.
>It's not entirely fair since they're willing to work incredibly hard when it's their idea, but they hate to feel obligated and don't like being hemmed in.
>They're incredibly flighty.
>bird ponies "flighty."
>kek
>They're tolerated but don't really take part in Equestrian society beyond their devotion to the Princesses
>They can cloud-walk but can't manipulate the weather like Pegasi.
>They're claustrophobic and hate being inside of anything with a proper roof, and don't build anything more substantial than an occasional tent for gatherings.
>they're physically almost as frail as moth pones and lack the physical stamina of earth pones or even unicorns, yet can still fly vast distances.
>they have a strange form of magic involving feather charms and music that no one really understands except themselves
>They're nomadic, and fly north and south with the seasons.
>You find them oddly fascinating

>One lights on the back of the bench next to you. She coos like the pigeon her coat coloration and markings cause her to resemble
>"Pssst...got any bread crumbs?"
>You snort
That isn't good for you, you know. Do you WANT to get too fat to migrate with your flock?
>You hand Amber Eyes a bag of corn nuts instead. It's still junk food, but it's got to be better than bread and it's lightly salted, and like all ponies, bird ponies are salt fiends.
>She grins. "Hold on a second." She flutters off, and...wait for it...wait for it..
>Yep, there it is, took her a full minute. A snack and soda vendor on the other side of the park is yelling angrily. A little while later, Amber Eyes returns with two sodas, and hands one to you.
>"I got you a Royal Sisters Classic, that OK?"
>You sigh.
You know, if you'd asked, I'd have been willing to pay for a couple of sodas for us.
>She grins. "Well, yeah, but where's the fun in that?" She takes a long sip of hers and starts munching on your offering of corn nuts.
I'll see if I can pay him for the sodas later
>She coos. "Schmuck. Oh well, it's your money. I cleaned his cart last season and he stiffed me when it came time to pay, so I'm just taking my money out in trade. One soda at a time."
>She munches a few corn nuts and hands you the bag, and you take a few for yourself.

>Bird-ponies do have a reputation for being thieves, and as you've just seen, that IS somewhat deserved.
>They've always lived on the edge of pony society and don't seem to have quite the same regard for "personal space" and "private property" that other ponies do
>they almost never carry more personal belongings than what will fit in a single small bag
>property is traded freely around the flock and anything too unwieldy to carry gets left behind, usually where someone else can make use of it.
>local constables tolerate them because their crimes are usually limited to minor pickpocketing and petty theft, often food items, but they're often valuable sources of information
>they're fairly talented musicians, singers and performers and often busk for a few bits, and they sometimes sell feather charms and small musical instruments or jewelry
>You met Amber Eyes last season, when she returned your wallet, which she had found
>In your pocket. When you weren't looking.
>Some of the money was gone, because she had needed some lunch for herself and her kid sister, but she'd left the rest there
>Bird-ponies rarely steal more than what they need at the moment.
>She'd brought you and Twilight some doughnuts back, even if they were bought with your bits, since she wanted a peace offering and bird-ponies have a sixth-sense for a soft touch.
>It was so weirdly amusing that you actually didn't call for the police.
>Twilight Sparkle had explained to you afterwards what other ponies knew about bird-ponies, and her advice was that you avoid the little thieves.
>You ignored her as you usually do and started hanging around the park where you'd first met the little imp

>Between the two of you, you polish off the entire bag of corn nuts in a few minutes. "I don't suppose you have anymore of those, do you?" she asks hopefully
>Bird-ponies are bottomless pits when it comes to snack foods
Not right at the moment, but you don't need any--you just ate like a pound of parched corn and you're smaller than me.
>She scowls. "Hey, it takes a lot of energy being this amazing. Besides, I'm gonna need to pack on some more fat before fall migration."
Looks like you're ahead of schedule, then, since if you keep going like you are they'll be rolling you to Zebrica in a wheelbarrow
>You reach out and playfully pinch a bit of her flank while humming an old commercial jingle about pinching an inch, and she caws in surprise and swats at your hand.
You boop her nose playfully and both of you laugh. "You know, you're almost okay. For a groundpounder, I mean." she says, giggling.
>You know the term doesn't just mean "somepony who walks on the ground" to the bird-ponies.
>they regard the sky itself as their home, and feel as if they have an almost mystical connection to it.
>In their own language they call it the Mother of Clouds and Storms and claim that the sky is actually a bird-pony alicorn that made the world, and then ascended to its zenith with her herd
>Most non-bird-pones regard this as either factually wrong at best or borderline blasphemous at worst.
>"Groundpounders" are beings that, while they might fly sometimes, are connected more to the earth underfoot than the sky above.

And you're not so bad yourself. You know, for a snack-burglaring ratbird.
>She gigglesnorts and pulls a flute out of the small bag around her neck, where itt had been hidden by her mane. "So, got any requests?"
>You do. Absolutely you do.
How about "Twisted Nerve?"
>Before she'd left on migration last fall, the two of you had watched Kill Bill volumes 1 and 2 at your home in Ponyville, along with a bunch of other movies, which you can totally still watch because fuck you, science.
>You'd brought the DVD player and television out to the back porch, where she felt more comfortable
>She'd been enchanted with it, up until the burial scene in the second volume, when she'd actually screamed and hid her face against your chest, and she'd cheered like a Juggalo when Uma Thurman had punched her way out of the coffin.
>Afterward you had given her an extra MP3 player you had lying around and she'd asked for the music from the movies you'd watched.
>You had no idea how it was still powered more than a year later, but the bundles of feathers and sparkling jewels securely strapped to the back of the thing probably had something to do with it.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c1NN9rnNpEQ [Embed]

>And now, more than a year later, you could often hear variations of the music you'd squirreled away on her player being performed or sang by musicians, both singly and in little ensembles, in her flock
>It was funny, hearing bird-pone renditions of In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida or Stairway to Heaven
>But Twisted Nerve...Amber Eyes had a fascination for the songs of Bernard Herrmann, and that piece in particular many other ponies found oddly haunting, or even creepy and disturbing.
>So how could she NOT like it?
>A few minutes after she begins, a few ponies are standing around, listening to her play it, and you provide a bit of a beat for her by stomping your feet.
>You honestly wonder if she weaves magic into her music, since you've heard some bird-ponies do that and your audience seems oddly entranced.
>Or maybe she's simply that good.
>A few of the listeners throw the two of you bits while she plays, and after a few minutes, the piece ends. A few of the listeners pound their hooves on the sidewalk as she bows, before they disperse. You help her collect her bits.
>"You should keep half of these, since you helped," she says. "I always get more bits when you're around, for some reason."
Nah, you earned it. But hey if you really wanna pay me back, why don't you give a couple of those bits to the vendor you swiped the sodas from?
>She rolls her eyes. "Mother Sky, that really bothered you, didn't it? Fine, I'll toss him a bit. But just for YOUR soda, though. For you. Okay?"
>You smile
Thank you.
>She snorts. "Seriously, though, have you ever considered doing this for a living? You've got good rhythm with just those hand-things and feet of yours. Didn't you say you used to play drums or something back in your world?"
I used to, but I haven't really done anything with it since I arrived here...

>A notion comes to you
Tell you what though...maybe sometime I can dig the drums out of the closet and I can join you out here in Canterlot Park. Maybe we can make a day out of it? I bet we could rook these stuffed shirts out of some major doshage.
>She perks up this. "Okay, NOW you're talking--we'll probably clean up. But you have to keep some of it, you feel me? You HAVE to."
>You know from your time with Amber Eyes that bird pones have an odd sense of obligation. Pilfering something from someone else is fine as long as they can afford to lose it, they'll do that and never bat an eye afterward
>A minor con-job? A scam is fine too, plenty of bird-pones do three card monte and other street hustles for some extra bits.
>But do a solid for one of them, and they'll move heaven and earth to return it.
>They're a study in contradictions
>A favor owed to someone who can't be repaid is like a little piece of hell for them.
>Honestly, you hardly need the money and she knows it--you get a stipend from the Royals to go with the title they ginned up for you, you made a shitload of bits selling the rights to the movies and books that came over from Earth with you and your house, you patented a butane cigarette lighter and the Clapper, among other human inventions--Applejack loved the Clapper, for some reason
>You write science fiction stories for publication--who knew that ponies would be fascinated by a world where magic doesn't exist?
>You even co-wrote a series of comics, because apparently zombies and the Undead are even bigger here than back on Earth
>But Amber Eyes is serious,and wants to make sure you keep whatever you earn.
>Bird-ponies are odd that way, and Angel Eyes is a little odder than most.
Alright, fine. Deal, I'll keep half. Satisfied?

"Absolutely." She pulls the bag back out of her mane and begins rooting through it again.
>"Hold on, I've got something I made for you..well, my sis helped. She's better at this kind of thing than I am..."
>You marvel at hwo such a small bag can have so much crap. Women, amirite?
>DEAD_STARE.jpg
>Right. Moving on...
>She finally finds what she's looking for "Here," she says. She pulls out an...object.
>It looks a little like a dreamcatcher, but made of feathers and wire, and the rim is made of gems.
>it's about two inches wide, and it's attached to a band that clearly is meant to go around a wrist. It's beautiful, and you say so.
>"It's an Az'k'za," she says. 'We wear them to helps us find good weather, or places where we're welcome, or for protection. Or just all-around good luck."
>She pauses for a second. "You can't make one for yourself, it...just doesn't work then. Somepony else has to make one for you, and give it to you as a gift. Somepony who cares about you."
>She grabs your wrist in both of her hooves, and carefully she slips it over your hand and onto your wrist. You feel a slight tingle and feeling of warmth where it touches your skin.
>Most pony magic doesn't work well on you, but you feel oddly...invigorated.
>LEVEL_UP.jpg
>At that moment, you hear a commotion on the other side of the park. A few seconds later, a smaller bird-pony with similar coloration as Amber Eyes darts by you at ludicrous speed, followed a few moments later by several shouting Pegasi constables.
So,. uh...that your sister? Because I think she's gone to plaid...
>"Yep, that's her. I probably should go find out what she's gotten herself into. Whatever it is, I don't wanna be left out, It looks fun!" She looks over her shoulder at you just before takeoff. "You'll be here tomorrow, right?"
Ayup
>She grins "Make sure you bring more of those corn-thingies." She takes to the air and darts away, leaving you there on the bench alone.