> Sleepwalking > by MDNGHTRDHTLN > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > One: Anything But a Chance Encounter > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Canterlot. I love this city, but damn. There is some freaky shit that goes on here. Well, I suppose I should start from the beginning, huh? That might help all parties involved. My name is Cobalt. I’m an earth pony with a black mane and steely-blue fur, average height, average build. Some would call me the average joe. Others would beg to differ. See, I specialize in a special type of business dealings. The kind that happens at night, when you and your kids are sleeping and dreaming. My type of dealing is all about dreams. I work for Luna. Yes, I’m on a first-name basis with her, but I’ll get to that later. Anyways, Luna. I work for her. You know her as the princess of the night. She goes into your dreams and changes them, molding them like modeling clay to get something new. I know her as a friend, colleague, and employer. She hired me, along with some other ponies, to help her out with the whole dream bit. She said she needed help, that she was spread too thin. We gladly complied. Did we even have a choice? There were a few of us. All of us were different, none like the others. They’re my closest friends, though some would call us lovers, criminals, psychopaths, and many other terms. Some were friendly, some weren’t. What can I say? You make a lot of enemies when you run my gig. What my gig was...well, I would enter other’s dreams. Sometimes, I’d vanquish their nightmares, making their worst fears evaporate into a meaningless pile of black, shiny dust. Other times, I’d raid the subconscious of the sick and twisted, getting crucial information, and sometimes even planting our own. You can imagine that not everypony we helped that found out was too happy. Like I said, you make a lot of enemies running my gig. We dealt with all the crazies. Some were violent, some weren’t. Some were intelligent, some weren’t. Some were completely deranged, some weren’t. Some were a blend of all three, with a sprinkle of sociopathy in there, seasoned to taste, for extra kick. But, like I said, I should start at the beginning. I actually have one of my colleagues, Kylo, hooking me up to a machine as we speak. The monitor he has me connected to is displaying my thoughts on the screen. I’m reading them now. They’re being recorded for later editing, as to remove all of the random, strange thoughts that a pony thinks while he’s asleep. I’ll be put under, and my mind will be used to make a record of my life. I wanted this. I figured that people should know, now that Project Lucid has become public knowledge. Luna herself consented. The events in this story are completely true. Nothing of importance has been changed. Kylo is approaching me now. He’s holding a small syringe in his hand, filled halfway with a red solution. I’ve seen it before. It’s used to put us to sleep for a bit, and allow the others access into my subconscious. After I’m put under, Kylo will hook himself up to a machine that allows him to see what’s going on inside the bundle of synapses and matter that is my brain. If I were you, I’d grab a cup of coffee, and maybe a snack. Maybe something fruity. Something tells me you’ve been eating too much chocolate lately. Sit back, friends, and relax. Try not to fall asleep, though. I’ll be waiting if you do. Kylo here. I see that Cobalt told you about me a bit, but who I am isn’t important. Well, it is, but not right now, it isn’t. Anyways, I figured you might be wondering about how Cobalt’s going to do this. You know, how it’ll all work. So, I’ve come here to explain it. Basically, the serum I injected into him contains nanites. They are able to tap in to chemical flows and reactions in the brain, thereby granting them access to the functions of the lobe responsible for memories and the subconscious. We have different nanites for different situations. One is used to access memories, while the other is used to access the subconscious thought process. The subconscious part of the specific nanite in Cobalt right now is used to link his memories to his subconscious. After this is done, the nanites emit harmless radio waves containing data. This data is his subconscious’ actions, which in turn are what he dreams or thinks about in his sleeping state in the form of radio frequencies. My computer is then responsible for reading the frequencies and making coherent thoughts out of them. I suppose that’s all you really need to know. Also, a side note: when Cobalt recounts his experience, he does so like it was happening to him shortly after the moment he remembers it. Although what happened happened a while ago, his mind isn’t capable of processing that concept with the serum in his veins. He’ll be speaking in the very close past tense, if that makes any sense. Anyways, I’ll let you get back to him. Without further ado, I present Cobalt. I’ve always been a night owl, but damn, does tonight suck so far. A few hours ago, my wife took my kid and filed for divorce. The more I think about it, the more I realize she was a total bitch. She had never, ever told me she loved me. Ever. The more I think about it now, the more I realize I never told her the same. Well, then, I suppose this’ll be positive for all parties involved. Maybe it’ll hurt my daughter, but she’s almost a fully-grown mare already. She’s shaping up to become quite the doctor. She decided she wanted to go to medical school when she was a child. My wife had always said, “Good luck with that, kiddo,” but I, being the supportive parent I am, would tell her, “You can do anything, honey, as long as you set your mind to it.” There was a knock at the door. I sauntered down to open it. It was my wife. Blech. “Hello, Cobalt,” she said, brushing past me. “Hello, wonderbitch.” “Excuse me?” She turned around, left eyebrow raised. “I said, hello, honey.” “That’s what I thought,” she scoffed, turning back around. Well, she’s capable of thinking, at least. They say unicorns are statistically more intelligent than other races, but, hot damn, she was an idiot. “So, uh…” I started, “what brings you here?” I start looking around the room, looking for a possible weapon in case she tries anything funny. She’s a textbook psycho bitch, mind you. “I’m coming for my things.” “Oh, you mean the things you already took with you.” She turned to face me again. “It’s not like you’d know what’s mine.” “Well, I was married to you.” “For a few years!” “You learn a lot about someone when you live with them for a few years, you know.” “Like that they’re a prick?” “I was thinking bitch, but prick works, too.” She growled. “You will not - and I repeat, you will NOT - disgrace me again!” Oh, joy. She’s using fancy words now. This is a first. “Or what, you’ll shoot me? Terrifying, really.” She huffed again. She let out a small, angry scream. Her horn lit up and fired a small bolt of energy at me. I easily sidestepped it. It hit a vase on the wall behind me. The vase wobbled a bit. “Really?” I deadpanned. “That’s really the best you got?” “Just shut up!” “Fine. I was getting bored of you, anyways.” She grunted again, turning away from me. She resumed her walk down the hall. I’ve always liked this house. It’s a good thing I bought it myself, and not her. It’s a nice, modern apartment in downtown Canterlot. The walls are stark-white, and the trim is a contrasting black. Most of the furniture is dark orange, which goes well with the tan, fuzzy carpet, I think. My wife always hated it. Come to think of it, she hated everything. My wife returned from the hallway, carrying nothing. “Find anything?” I quipped. “Shut up.” “Nope.” She grunted again, flipping her mane over her face. “I’ll see you in court.” She walked towards the door like she had somewhere to be. Probably rehab or therapy. “Make sure you look your best!” I called after her. “I know it’s naturally hard for you, but you should at least try!” Even though the door was closed, I heard her angry scream. I chuckled to myself. I love fucking with her every chance I get. I strolled into the kitchen, where I got out a glass and some fine wine. I’ve always been more of a wine guy, truth be told. I poured myself a spot of wine and took a sip. The bitter taste always made me feel warm and fuzzy. Actually, maybe it’s the alcohol. I heard another knock at the door. This one was more forceful than the last. I put down my glass and walked towards the door. When I opened it up, I was met with the golden armor of a royal guard. “You’re wanted at the castle immediately, sir.” “Hello, Cobalt,” said Princess Luna. Princess. Fucking. Luna. I bowed hastily. My knees knocked into the floor, and it hurt. I stifled a cry of pain. Luna chuckled. “Please, relax, Cobalt. You are not in trouble.” She waved her guards away. “Leave us,” she commanded them. They retreated with considerable haste. Which was understandable. My mouth went dry. “So, Cobalt, you may be wondering why I’ve called you here, correct?” She looked at me. I nodded. “Well, I’ll be blunt. I need your help.” A princess - an all-powerful being with nearly unlimited magical ability - needed my help. “With all due respect, Princess, with what?” “Please, Cobalt, dismiss with the formalities. I need your help with sleepwalking.” “You...you sleepwalk?” “Not like you think.” She climbed off of her bronze throne. “Sleepwalking is the magical art of invading a sleeping pony’s subconscious. You can access virtually any information you want.” “I’m an earth pony. I can’t use magic.” “Recently, we’ve discovered a new way to do it, using chemicals and nanites. We think you have all the qualities of a good candidate to be a sleepwalker.” “What would those be?” “Intelligence, cunning, good reflexes, endurance, and apathy.” “I...I’m not the best at those, Princess.” “Oh, but you are. Trust me.” “Really?” She nodded. “Don’t worry. You’re not the only one.” “What?” She smirked. “Clear your mind.” “Um...okay.” I emptied my mind of all thought, closing my eyes, imagining a sheet of blank paper. “Open your eyes.” I opened. I was standing in a spacious room. The walls were stark white, like my apartment. There were splotches of dark blue at first, and then I realized that those were chairs. Various steel carts were scattered around the room. Upon closer inspection, these tables had syringes and chemicals on their surfaces. “Cobalt? Meet the team,” she said, motioning to the other ponies who were in the room. They were also staring at me. I was a little uncomfortable. A bat pony walked up. His eyes were purple, the color of the sky at sunset, and his mane was rather messy. His features were soft, almost mare-like. He was handsome, but not in a chiseled way. He smiled at me. It was a warm smile, the kind of smile your grandmother gives you when you visit her house on a cold autumn morning. “Hey, mate,” he said. “The name’s Kylo.” He spoke with a bit of a Trottingham accent. “Cobalt,” I replied. I didn’t fully trust him. I’ve always been wary of new people. Maybe it’s something my lifetime of betrayal makes me do. A pegasus mare walked up next. Her pale yellow coat offered contrast to her dark grey mane, which was smooth, but curled outwards at the ends. Her features were admittedly beautiful. Her bright green eyes looked into mine, and she smiled. “I’m Lilypad,” she said. Her voice was smooth and crisp. “I heard yours while you were talking with Kylo.” “Well, Cobalt,” Luna said, “welcome to the team.” “So, what exactly do we do here?” I bluntly asked. “Well,” Kylo said, “we use chemicals, technology, and small amounts of magic in order to gain access to the subconscious thought process of select ponies. We use this technology to extract information, resolve nightmares, and implant thoughts.” “So...we’re like spies.” “Similar, yes.” So I was spying for the Princess now. What could go wrong?