//------------------------------// // Chapter 5 - It may not be a rainbow connection, but it'll do. // Story: Drifting Through Realities // by Thadius0 //------------------------------// Drifting Through Realities Chapter 5 - It may not be a rainbow connection, but it'll do. I stared into the campfire and thought about what my priorities should be. I had a few bits of jerky in my pack, which would serve for food until I knew what was and wasn't edible, but if magi and deities walked this plane like no tomorrow, then I would need to improve my clothing. Fortunately, I had supplies, all I needed was time. Which I had in abundance, what with stalking out of the city. I put my pack down in front of me and rummaged, moving things I couldn't see out of the way until I brushed up against a metallic set of strands. I carefully pulled the roll of 'fabric' out and smiled. This...this had taken the dwarves a good bit of trouble to make. Molten steel with a good few crystals tossed in that slowly melted and infused the steel with their own properties, then poured into a specialized mold to make steel-and-crystal threads. The one thing that could stop the blade of Origin that I had found so far, mainly because the crystals would repel one another like magnets of the same pole. Once the blade had a hilt that could hold it, I'd re-purposed the strands by weaving them into my clothes, which had turned out to be a good idea. The crystals were magic-resistant when they were dormant, and magic-repellant when they were activated with just the right jolt. The strands had similar properties, but the amount in my clothes were nowhere near enough to stand up to a deities' Presence. I aimed to change that now. I rummaged again and found my sewing bag. Hey, clothing maintenance is important between worlds. Especially when your clothes are one of the few reminders you have of your home. Another important thing is a song to sing while you work. I'd taken one and modified it slightly to make it fit my situation ages ago. It was a catchy little tune, but that was probably because the original song was an earworm. I took my hoodie off, threaded a needle with one of the metallic strands, and began increasing its resistance to magic while I sung my song. I Drift from one world to the next, I Drift from one world to the next, I spit on gods who know what's best. Sir, I'm picking up movement from nearby. Size and magic is indicative of it being a native. I merely sighed and decided to continue my work. One thread down, quite a few to go. At least I'd be giving someone a show with my singing. Gonna keep up hope within my heart, Gonna keep up hope within my heart, I will one day return to my start. Cause if in my heart hope can't thrive, then why the hell am I alive? Being has moved closer. Magic signature is indicative of it being a unicorn. Recommending you take some measure of- I ignored Xavier and continued my work. If it was an ambush, they'd have attacked by now. Likely, whoever it was just wanted to talk. I'd grant an individual a chance. One. Singular. I kept singing as I finished with one part of my hoodie. I've seen too much for one my age, I've seen too much for one my age, And yet I keep on turning the page. From the bushes, a white unicorn with a two-toned blue mane and tail slowly emerged. On her horn rested a pair of violet shades, and her eyes were a deep crimson. She drew a little too close, and I paused in my busywork. She noticed, and backed up a touch, then rested on her haunches while watching me work. I decided to finish the song, and I noticed her head bobbing along while I did. One day my Drifting will be done, One day my Drifting will be done, At home I'll relax in the sun. Cause if in my heart hope can't thrive, then why the hell am I alive? The only sound in the small clearing was that of my humming for a few minutes while I worked on the sleeves. There was a lot of work to do, but since I'd sung the song once, I didn't need to do it again. I'd gotten my message across to the unicorn. Once I got to the hood, the unicorn finally spoke up, which allowed me to confirm that it was a female. I mean, I assumed based on body structure, but it was still nice to know. "So you're just gonna run from reality?" I looked up then and frowned. "It worked pretty well until I landed here." She shook her head at that. "Yeah, and now you're here. The others said they couldn't leave for a while, is that the same with you?" I nodded and returned to working on my hood. "Won't be able to leave for at least a hundred years. Assuming I live that long." The unicorn sighed at my blunt statment. "Yeah, I can see why you'd be upset at that. From what your song sounded like, you kept hoping you'd be able to go home one day." I nodded again, and then the unicorn hit me with a profound piece of philosophy. "Okay, answer me this question: if home's where the heart is, then did you leave your heart back at your home? Do you even remember what it looked like? From your song, it sounds like it's been a while since you've been there. Buck, if you're going to be here for a century, then why not try to make this place your home?" I blinked a few times and looked at her mid-threading. "Make this place my home? A place that I'm wholly unfamiliar with? One that is home to so many magi and three goddesses? I'd rather swim in shark-infested waters. At least the sharks would make it quick." The unicorn blinked, grimaced at my saying, and shuddered. "I...I don't wanna know right now what sorta past you've had to make you distrust magic to such an extreme. But aren't you letting your past stop you from making a life in the present?" I examined my work and decided a final thread to tie a few together would be enough to finish my plans. "It's called being cynical and paranoid. After the fifth time I was betrayed by mages, I started being suspicious of magi in general. After the tenth, I stopped hoping that they'd be good. After the twentieth, I started keeping my curse a secret." I looked up after lacing the final thread in to see the unicorn's expression had fallen. "So...so many?" I nodded. "And don't get me started on the deities. They play vast games with each other, and mortals are their pawns. I did so much for so many, and all they did in return was string me along." I sent a small charge into my hoodie from my right hand, and it lit up blue for a moment. I smiled at that, it would appear my sewing was still up to par. The unicorn blinked and looked at my hoodie with wide eyes. "What...did you do?" I pulled my shirt off, thankful I'd run into a priest in the last world who would heal away all my old scars, shrugged my hoodie on, and then sent a small, continuous charge through my right arm. I could feel the magic of the world recede as the threads activated, and I smiled as her expression now included a dropped jaw. "How...did you make yourself immune to magic?" I began to work on my shirt while I responded. "It's hardly immunity, and it's not me, but my clothes, and it took me a while to figure out. But with my travels, I'm thankful I figured it out." There was silence while I worked on my shirt. I like to think that the unicorn was imagining as to how bad my travels could have been to give me such an aversion to magic. I'd gotten it half-done before she spoke up again. "Still. You're going to be stuck here for a while. If you make your aversion to magic known, I'm sure ponies will respect that and leave you be." I blinked at that, but picked up the sewing after a moment. "You really think the citizens of this world will understand my hatred of something that makes up such a large part of their world?" The unicorn let out an affirmative noise. "Yeah. I mean, I haven't used any around you yet, and I could totally be doing some to help you with your sewing." I paused and looked up, locking eyes with her. "Why...would you try to help me?" She shrugged. "It's what ponies do. Offer a helping hoof to those who need it." The thought flashed across my mind that this world could possibly be home to genuinely helpful natives, even in spite of the fact that one-third of them were magi. Xavier chose to speak up then. Sir, I would recommend going with the unicorn until such a time as we know enough about the world to genuinely make it on our own. Who knows? Perhaps she'll earn your trust along the way. And thus, in a moment that was either me genuinely starting the process to heal a very old wound or me being incredibly stupid, I extended my left hand towards the unicorn. "Eric O'Mally." She smiled and repeated my gesture. "Vinyl Scratch." We shook, having finally introduced ourselves to one another. After that, conversation dried up for a bit. I put the finishing touch on my shirt and pulled off my hoodie before putting my upgraded shirt back on. I left my outermost layer unzipped and shot a smile at Vinyl. "So, how do I look?" With that, I sent a charge through them both with my right arm, and Vinyl softly whistled. "Dang. Looks like you laced the things with some glow-sticks. You wouldn't be out of place at a club now." I pictured it in my mind's eye and chuckled at the conjured imagery. "Well, I'm not doing my pants now, so unless you got somewhere to be, little miss, then..." I let the sentence trail off, and Vinyl nodded. "I got a place back in Canterlot and a...housemate that'll be wondering where I ran off to. If you'd like, you can come with." I mulled the idea over, along with the pause she'd accidentally thrown in, before slowly nodding. "But I'm keeping this," and here I pointed to the inside of my hoodie, where a faint blue glow still emanated, "up all the time. You, I've given the chance to earn my trust. Every other unicorn is gonna have to work for it. Much less your precious Princesses." Vinyl nodded and smiled at me. "Dude, my housemate's an Earth Pony, she won't mind. Now, y'comin'?" I replaced the bundle of metallic strands in my pack, along with my sewing equipment, slung it onto my back, and nodded. Vinyl merely turned around and motioned for me to follow her, so I did. This promised to be, at the very least, interesting. ----- It was an unassuming little house, by Canterlot standards anyways. At least, that's what casual observation told me. I stood in front of it and wondered what the protocol was. "So do we knock or-" Vinyl just walked up and threw the door open. "'Tavi, I found 'im! I told you I would!" There was an exasperated sigh from deeper in the house. "Vinyl, please tell me you didn't go back to the sa-" The voice cut off as a gray-coated earth pony with a black mane walked in. I took in the details almost subconsciously. She was wearing a white collar with a pink bow tie, had light purple eyes, and looked strikingly familiar. It was when she spoke up again that I placed it. "Oh my. So you did actually find him. Well, hello good sir, and-" I interrupted her then. "Are you the one that punched me? I distinctly recall getting punched by a pony that looked like you. I thought it was just a delusion brought on by my Drifting, but now that I know ponies run the show here, I'm less dismissive of the idea than I was yesterday." The Earth Pony in front of me coughed and looked away for a moment while muttering something, whereas Vinyl just laughed. "Yeah, but you can't blame her, Eric. You did sorta show up in our living room in the middle of the night and started screaming your head off. 'Tavi here just reacted." I reflexively rubbed my jaw as I responded to Vinyl, absently noting that this 'Tavi' was growing red in the cheeks. "Ah, yeah, well, if I had a - what do you call your currency here?" "Bits," Vinyl supplied, and I nodded. "Well, if I had a bit for every entry that wasn't peaceful, I'd be a wealthy man." I chuckled as I recalled one of my more humorous entries into a world. I wasn't sure why that world had a 'water to custard' spell, but it almost worked as advertised. I still don't know if that lake would ever be the same. "Anyways!" I said perhaps a bit too loudly while snapping out of memory lane. "No real harm, so no real foul. My name is Eric O'Mally, and it is nice to meet you. I've already made the acquaintance of your housemate, Vinyl Scratch, but something tells me 'Tavi' isn't your whole name." The Earth Pony shot Vinyl a Look, one that made you feel the capital L. It promised a Talk later. Nonetheless, she walked a few paces closer to me and nodded. "Hello Eric, my name is Octavia Philharmonica. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well." I stuck out my left hand, and she repeated the gesture, allowing us to confirm our newly-found tolerance for one another with a firm shake. "Now, I don't know if you know this, but I did arrive with hardly more than the clothes on my back and my pack, and neither one of them contains a place to sleep folded away within." I winked to make sure Octavia knew I was joking, and she giggled a little at my obvious joke before replying. "Indeed, it feels like it was only yesterday a weird bipedal creature was appearing in our home. But never fear, we do have a guest room you can use while you get your...feet, was it?" I nodded to confirm she'd gotten the terminology right. "Your feet back under yourself. How long do you think something like that will take?" I shrugged. "Depends on if I can find a dwarf-standard smith in this realm and if there's a real need for the properties of my crystals. I sincerely doubt it, but you never know. If not, I'll find a way or make one. And miss Octavia?" I got down on one knee and lightly clasped her left foreleg with both my hands. "Thank you for being willing to take me in. I know Vinyl means well, but I'd have been uncomfortable if you weren't willing to put up with me as well." She blushed a bit at that, but smiled. "Nonsense, it's what any decent pony should do. The guest room is upstairs, last door on the right. Why don't you take a minute to get settled?" I nodded, stood back up, and located the stairs in question. "Take care, ladies." Octavia shot a response back as I headed up. "If Vinyl's a lady, I'm a parasprite!" Judging by Vinyl's indignant 'hey!', I gathered that was not a comparison that was likely to be true at any point in the future. ----- Octavia rounded on Vinyl and fairly hissed her question at her housemate. "What the buck were you thinking, Vinyl? Were you? Or was this another plan you made while-" Vinyl cut her off by levitating her glasses off her face and staring at Octavia. There was no anger in her voice as she responded. "Do you know what I do these days, Octy?" Octavia blinked at the question, but rallied. "You play in clubs, spinning records and entertaining crowds because that's what you love to do, and keep putting yourself in hoof's reach for falling ba-" "Do you know what I have to do to do that job well?" Octavia huffed a bit at being interrupted again. "Stay away from the bar and the s-" "I have to read the news, Octy. All of it, because if I know what's going on, I know what ponies want to hear. I read it all, Octy. Including the stuff about the Jumpers down in Ponyville." Octavia was nonplussed at that. "And?" "Trace came here willingly, but even he's got a touch of darkness in his past. Matt, Alex, and Eleanor? They didn't get the choice, they kept Jumping until they landed here, and all their travels scarred them, Octy." Octavia blinked at that, realizing she might have been misjudging the humans. "What, physically?" Vinyl slowly shook her head and looked up, as though she could see Eric through the wood. "Not just that. They're scarred deep inside, Octy. Nearly all of them. And the worst part is, they simply grow numb to it over time." She locked eyes with Octavia again and sighed. "Remind you of anypony?" Octavia started shaking. "Oh, sweet Celestia. All of them? How bad is Eric? Do you know?" Vinyl slowly nodded. "I have an idea. He doesn't trust magic. Or gods or goddesses, or the Princesses. And he kept hoping for a way home, which is now out of reach, forever." And then, Octavia Philharmonica did something she'd only done twice before in her life. She broke down and cried. Vinyl came forward and hugged her close, muffling her sobs somewhat, and softly said the words "I know" to her over and over again. Octavia was a mare of music. Talented in it to an uncanny degree, it carried a double-edge. 'Tis often said that music soothes the savage beast, and with good reason. Music, done properly, is the language of the soul. In the land of Equestria, where sometimes music and magic blend together in random musical numbers, a music-related talent lends one greater insight to the underpinnings of how music effects the fellow pony. But when a pony of music hears of troubles that damage another pony's very mind and soul to such a degree that things like trust are no longer something they give out freely, they can't help but feel sickened that such a thing could happen to another pony. Their best bet to working out those emotions is to write somber, slow music, and then burn it before anyone else reads it. But Octavia had no idea where to start with troubles like Eric's. And she also knew that it was likely only the tip of his issues. And something like that, it bucking terrified her.