(Not) Black and White: A Displaced Fic

by Masterweaver


Worry

It is far easier to get a house then an apartment in Ponyville.

It's an interesting facet of pony culture. Trading cities--Manehattan, Canterlot, cities where there's a lot of coming and going by necessity--have apartment complexes, yes. But they're not usually run by ponies. Ponies have this... assumption wired into them that if you need a place to rest, there will be somebody willing to take you in. Family, friends, whatever. Their houses are big--even if there's only one pony living there, there's always at least room for two bedrooms. Four, more often. A pony without a guest room is... like an american family without a car, I suppose. It happens, but it's considered kind of strange.

I, of course, did not realize this when I suggested we go looking for apartments. The strange looks that both Twilight and Rainbow gave me made it clear that something was off about my suggestion, and I had to clarify that no, I did not mean a hotel apartment... which then forced me to explain the concept of apartment complexes to them. Eventually Twilight managed to twig what I was talking about, and turned to Rainbow to explain that it was like a really, really big house.

Rainbow's reply, of course, was to ask how I expected to start such a huge family when I was the only giant weasel around.

So in the end, we went house shopping instead. I didn't have too many standards--it had to be well built and have all the basic accommodations--but Blake made a number of requests: Multiple points of entry and exit on all floors and sides, an easily defensible room of some sort to retreat to, some place that could be used to maintain Gambol Shroud safely, locks on the doors and windows--ones that could be opened easily with fingers, but not with hooves. The doors had to open inward, too.

She was paranoid. And I had to live with that paranoia.

For a whole damned week.


How are you not getting this?

"Well excuse me if I never needed to be an athlete before!"

You're in my body, the muscle memory should be there.... Get up. We need to try again.

"Blake," I growled, "I get that this is making you feel useful. I get that you need something to do, being trapped back there. But the definition of insanity is trying the same thing over and over and expecting different results."

Despite my objections, I stormed back to the taped line, rocking on my knees as I looked at the other one a short distance away.

If you think this is insane, why are you still doing it?

"Because we managed to do some tree hopping in the Everfree," I grumbled. "Look... can you change your teaching methods, maybe?"

I am a voice in your head, Blake pointed out flatly. What exactly should I do differently?

"I don't know, tell me if I'm bending my knees the wrong way or something?"

She gave a small sigh. Look, before all this I... wasn't exactly talkative, alright? Now talking's all I have left. And only one person can hear me and... and I don't know what I'm supposed to do here, but I know we need to be ready to move at a moment's notice.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, rising to a full standing position. "I know, I'm sorry... it's just... I was never good at sports in the first place. I wasn't unhealthy, but there wasn't really any reason to put me up to any serious standard." My hand made a frustrated arc. "And now... this. Look, I'm going to try again, and I want you to really feel what I'm doing, okay? Then we sit down and think about it."

But--

"Blake, this is a rut and we need to get out or we'll go nowhere."

...it's my body, she grumbled rebelliously.

"Yes, and I've had it for a week. Just..." I knelt down, gauging the distance between the marked lines. "Let's not expect miracles, okay?"

With a deep breath, I launched myself forward, sailing through the air...

...and faceplanting on the wooden boards.

"...onkah. Sno, En fink e gof pas da line dis sime..."

Technically, yes. But now we're vulnerable to Grimm attacks.

I rolled over with a groan. "Blake, we've established that there are no Grimm here."

No, but there are manticores, timberwolves, dragons, sphinxes, ursa that are not Grimm but giant star monsters, some sort of digging dog things--

"Alright, fine, I get it!" I stood up, brushing myself off. "It's just... look. You know I'm not used to the idea that giant monsters can attack, but the ponies are and they... they don't have this crazy training thing going on. They have an ordinary life in an ordinary town."

They have magic. We don't.

"Aura counts."

No it doesn't.

"If it's powered by the soul, then in my books it's freaking magic." I sat down in the chair. "I'm just saying that if there is a monster attack of some sort, we will get advanced warning. A siren or something."

That... Blake's voice dropped to a quieter register. That's not guaranteed, you know.

Right, yes, now she brought up the 'fall of Beacon.' Apparently my wandering through the mindscape was built on the memory of a tragedy...

I shook my head. "Blake, I... understand that you don't want a repeat of that. And I get that you know you can handle yourself and by proxy, I should be able to handle myself in your body, somehow. I appreciate your attempt to keep ready... but ready for what? I don't know if magic can predict the future, but I do know we can't. If there's some great conspiracy to tear everything down, how would we even find out about it? What's the point in chasing shadows?"

It's better then sitting back and doing nothing.

"But there's nothing to be done!" I pointed out in aggravation. "We don't know anything about how we ended up like this, there's not really a crime ring or any mysterious disappearances going on, the monsters are not going to rampage at any given moment--frankly I still think we need to find a job, Twilight's generosity is great and all but I want to know that I'm not reliant on the princess of mad science thinking I'm interesting enough to keep around for my survival."

For a moment, all I did was stare into empty space.

"...look. We can read a book or something," I offered. "If it'll take your mind off of things--"

I am stuck back here!

I winced.

I am stuck in my own damned head not being able to do anything while for all I know my friends are suffering and dying and, and I don't know how long I'm going to be here and the only person who can hear me doesn't even... I just want to get out of this prison. I just... I need to be useful. Somehow. If the only thing I can do is whip you into shape, that's.... that's at least something! I...

"...Maybe we could try to work on the semblance thing again," I offered.

She gave a wry chuckle. I know you're just trying to make me feel better.

"Well... yeah." I shrugged. "I mean... I'm not a monster, and as far as I can tell this isn't your fault. So... yeah, I am trying to make you feel better." A deep breath, and I gripped the arms of the chair. "And hey, if this works..."

Right. Okay. So, you...

She paused for a moment.

...Oh. Oh, I am an idiot.

"No, you're distraught and under a lot of stress and that means that you sometimes don't pick up on the obvious."

No no no. This is my semblance! she explained. It's a manifestation of my personality, not yours... not that you don't have your own semblance, but I've been trying to get you to use mine, so--

I rubbed my forehead. "Okay, so... you're going to try to help me figure out my semblance, I guess?"

Well, yes, but I think... okay, I'm going to try something. This... might get weird.

What followed felt... odd. For a moment, I was submerged in darkness--not just visually, every sense shutting off in a full body blink. It was a bit of a jolt to come back to myself, and I looked around quickly to make sure I was still where I had been.

And then I saw her.

Blake. Not just a reflection, but the Blake that had been in the mindscape, standing in the room, looking at her own hand.

"Uh..." I glanced down. "Okay, so I've still got your body, but--"

"This is a clone," Blake explained, almost distantly. "I can see through it, and... and talk through it apparently--my semblance still works." She sagged. "Oh, oh my gosh, my semblance is still--"

I stood up slowly. "Is this a good thing?"

"This is a good thing. This is a very good thing. I..." She paused, turning to me and holding her hand out. "Well, I think I have an idea of what I can do now."

I reached out. "Yeah, this looks quite--"

The moment our hands connected, she vanished.

"...helpful," I finished, deadpan.

Okay. So there are still some issues. But now that I know I can do that, I've got a plan.

"Great. I'm going to get something to eat."