Stories set in the Oversaturated World, some silly, some less so.
"The present is strange. It is literally a moment, a duration of zero time, the tissue-thin separation between past and future. It is eternal yet ephemeral, constant yet ever-changing.
"Consider for a moment the concepts of velocity and acceleration. What are they? Velocity is a change in position over time, acceleration the change in that change over time. Note the key phrase there: 'Over time.' For the present, a thing of no time at all, both are just numbers.
"And then there how my own magic expresses my connection to the present. Air knows. I am intimately aware of everything touched by the atmosphere. I know precisely where I am on the planet. And with such precise knowledge of position, Haysenberg dictates that there is uncertainty of momentum, which is partly velocity, something that already has no meaning to the present.
"So in conclusion, no, officer. I don't know how fast I was going."
The policeman seemed less than impressed with Scootaloo's speech and handed her a ticket. "I do. You were going ninety-five on a fifty mile-per-hour road. And if you really can't tell, you shouldn't be behind the wheel."
"That's what I've been saying the whole time!" Sweetie Belle cried from the backseat, her hands still clinging to the cushions in a white-knuckle grip.
Scootaloo sighed as she took the ticket. "Yes, officer."
Silence stretched among the Crusaders for a few moments as the cop drove off. Apple Bloom broke it. "Told ya I should drive."
"Can it."
"All that talk 'bout total awareness and ya miss the cop."
"I said can it," Scootaloo snarled, restarting the car.
Sweetie groaned. "Could you at least put some airsick bags back here?"
"Maybe later." Scootaloo extended her stunted wingbow as she shifted the sedan into drive. The orange light bent, folding into the back of the driver's seat. A similar glow overtook the entire car. None of the girls could see them, but they knew wings like those of ancient messenger gods hovered over the center of each hubcap. Scootaloo's eyes glowed as the surface of the car became like a second skin. "Let's get going."
Apple Bloom shivered. "Still don't get how ya do that. Don't think the car does either."
To her earthen ears, the response came from both driver and vehicle. "I am the car."
This one's a few years in the future. Scootaloo isn't completely talking out her rear end when it comes to her magic; as far as it's concerned, she has always and will always be enthroned in the driver's seat. Also, credit to SaintAbsol for his contribution to the idea in the Discord chat with the completely indifferent traffic cop.
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I'm glad, when I first read it I wondered by the cop didn't pick up that they were minors.
Is she also a transformer?
I don't think the other drivers are ready for Scootaloo. The other Crusaders sure aren't.
mentioning her rear end right after she becomes one with her car makes me want to think about muffler and trunk jokes.
Is it just me, or did Scoots sound intoxicated to anyone else? Not like trashed, but with enough booze and/or weed in her system to pull off some rather poetic stream-of-conscious rambling without her filters tripping her up.
To be fair, Sweetie didn't notice and she's got precognitive senses. If anyone shoulda seen that coming, it's her.
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However, she wanted the car to stop, or at least slow down.
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No, just achieving oneness with her vehicle. The difference being that this is more transcendental and less merchandisable.
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Endorphins and adrenaline. The feedback from infusing the car with her magic gives her one heck of a runner's high.
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In Sweetie's defense, she was more focused on making sure she was going to survive the next five seconds, which was disturbingly uncertain for much of the ride.
Is it wrong that I can totally see Dash trying to do that?
Next, this version of Scoots meets the KITT from Sunset Knight...
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I'm pretty sure that will lead to a body swap story.