From what Pat could tell at the moment: It was dark as shit. After deeming he was lying down by the pressure on his back he sat up, taking in the darkness before looking to his left and realizing that it was bright as hell over that way. He let his curiosity take him, stumbling out onto the crowded sidewalk only to realize one thing….
"Colorful horses?!" He shouted out, mostly to himself, getting a few irritated glances in his direction but otherwise, they ignored him. Well it seems like this is New York and they definitely act like New Yorkers….
He shrugged, walking along the crowded sidewalk, ponies shunting by as if he weren't there, blatantly ignoring the abnormality in their city of, well, abnormalities. He figured it was New Yorkers being New Yorkers: busy and what-not.
After a good hour of adventuring he was tired, yawning as he stretched up to the sky, figuring he would just have to find some alley to sleep in for the night. He walked a couple more blocks, searching the alleys in between, before he found one that he deemed less dank and rancid than the others. Digging some mostly dry cardboard from a dumpster, he sat down on it and leaned back against the wall, wet but comfortable, and slowly drifted off to sleep.
He awoke to shouts, quickly looking around him to recover his bearings, remembering last night and all that had happened as he crouched low, hugging into the shadows as he watched a couple of horses dragging another one out from what was probably the back door of a building. The teen stared in horror as one of the ponies that had been doing the dragging picked up a pipe from the ground with some sort of aura. This confused him immensely but he decided to think about that later, more focused, and worried, about the stallion that was currently about to be beaten to a pulp.
He was weak but he must of also been a fool because he did his best to shout at the pair, hoping they would get scared and run off. Luck, however, was not on his side as they instead turned to him and muttered something to one another before his head was surrounded in the aura from before and he passed out, collapsing into a heap on the pavement.
When he awoke once more it was black yet he could feel the sun bearing upon him mercilessly. He went to move the bag from his head but found his hands were bound together, also finding that his feet had met the same fate. After grumbling through the gag in his mouth for a while he decided to give up and rest, succumbing to the searing heat.
After a good hour of bumping around in whatever he was in, he felt it lurch to a halt and heard a pair of thumps as some things hit the ground. Waiting in silence for a few seconds to try to discern what was happening, he was suddenly wrenched from whatever vehicle he was in, falling into what felt like very hot and very dry dirt. The bag was soon off and he got a good look at his surroundings.
He was in the middle of what must have been badlands, nothing but dry, arid, desert terrain surrounding him and the two angry ponies near him. He looked to his left and saw that he had been in a chariot and they must have been pulling it as they looked sweaty and were panting. Though it must have partially been from the heat as well. The thumps he had heard previously were most likely the wooden posts in the front of the chariot that they had been bridled to hitting the ground as they undid the harnesses.
Looking over in mild curiosity, he watched as one of the stallions- he assumed because they had facial hair- levitated a shovel to him. Now bothering to get a good look at them, he noted that they both had dark grey colored coats and slicked back manes. In the midst of his observations he noted that the other, the one that hadn't levitated the shovel to him, began to speak, so he listened.
"You's is here 'cuz the boss don't want nobody to know 'bout his business, ya see? Since ya' decided to interfere in our job, we had to take ya out here to punish you's." His accent definitely sounded like they were in some really cheesy mafia movie or something but he went with it as the one with the shovel pushed it into him, the dark green aura surrounding it for a moment longer before it dissipated.
He then motioned for pat to begin digging, which he did. It was hard work but eventually, after getting a good two feet into the ground, he had to stop and take a break. They allowed it grudgingly, letting him rest for a couple minutes before he got to work again.
The first problem arose when some sort of gnarled root poked out of the ground as he dug in once more. He ignored the thorny, black-green vine for the moment continuing to dig. He figured he would dig six feet down, movie style, before they killed him. But, as he dug, more and more roots arose. Soon practically the whole bottom of the hole was made of twisted and tangled roots. The stallions above him looked worried now. He was a good 4 feet down so he was at chest height to them, just about. However, feeling like this was a good thing, maybe, he continued, slicing into the roots with the shovel.
After about an hour in total, he had gotten the hole dug into and a couple inches into the roots. He sneakily prodded his foot at the lowest layer of roots every once in a while to test how strong and thick they were because, as he dug further into them, he found that the thorns weren't as long or sharp and that the roots became more thin.
Within another half hour the roots were dwindling down to a mere couple of inches instead of three-quarters of a foot like they were originally. Plus, if he moved them around a little, he could see green chutes of light poking through the cracks. Deciding that this was as good a time as any, he took his chance. Springing quickly into action, he took a shovelful of dirt from the side wall and flung it up at the ponies, coating their eyes in the powdery substance before he jumped onto the back of the head of the shovel like a pogo stick, getting worried as he did so a few times, hearing the stallions above struggling to their feet...'hooves?'
He decided to ignore the question, however, when suddenly felt weightless, yelping as he fell into the mostly dark area below. At least it was dark before he heard the shriek of a scared being and the lights suddenly flared to life. That was when he came face to face with a black pony that was about the size of the two stallions that had ended him up here. At least he thought it was a pony. The thing had holes in its legs, chunks missing from the horn, and the wings of an insect but otherwise it appeared to be a pony.
He was about to ask what the hell it was to be sure before its horn suddenly sparked to life and he managed out a "God damnit," he lost consciousness for the second time that day, again caused by some sort of magic or some shit.