Ambre's View
I pull my eyes open, ears tickled by some random noise in the house. Light already filters through the blinds, I must have overslept. Well, it's Sunday, I can allow myself some leeway for once, and take full appreciation of my oft-spurned bed... Especially as I don't feel so well-rested; my night was plagued by vague nightmares, full of a sense of danger, or helplessness... I suppose being branded with a strange mark, without my knowledge or consent, isn't exactly conducive to a peaceful mind.
... And that's not even taking into account the other thing...
It doesn't look even remotely professional when your hair starts changing on you right in the middle of a busy evening service, in particular when the new hairdo consists of a full mane of long, wavy honey-gold locks... Bright side was that I couldn't allow myself to freak out. Well, openly freak out obviously, I thought I was going insane! But no, everybody else could see it too... Oh and those who didn't catch me mid-change thought my 'new style' was quite snazzy, and I got more than one appreciative look from patrons.
Clearly they're not the one who has to deal with at least a kilo of capillary mass that has no business hanging from their scalp. Or who has to find a way to sleep without accidentally smothering themselves to death. Yet I must admit... It does look good, in a 'white beauty ideal' kind of way. I would have to let my natural hair grow for months, and spend a fortune at the hair salon, to achieve comparable results.
I can't imagine that this ludicrous – and quite inexplicable – incident isn't related one way or another to our thigh marks. Even more than the synchronicity, the symbol's color is suspiciously similar to that of the alien hair now sprouting from my head. Though contrary to the mark, this change was clearly gradual: my hair was normal when I left for work, and it had only changed half or a third of the way when I noticed. I'm not sure how to interpret this fact... Was it directly caused by the mark, or was it initiated separately?
Whatever the case, one thing's certain...
This is beyond me. This is beyond us. Hair shouldn't be able to change like this in the first place. This should be impossible, plain and simple!
That's... a sobering thought. I'll still go to the doctor tomorrow, but I don't think she'll be able to help... At least it doesn't hurt or anything. It's just bizarre, utterly bizarre.
... So what now?
I guess I could get up... I'm sure Mrs. Dejean could use my help for something or the other, but first, I should take my meds. Once on my feet, I put on my glasses, go for my pharmacy bag...
... And stop when I realize that the world suddenly got very, very blurry.
How could I forget about that..?
It also happened last evening. I had pulled my glasses off while trying to tame my crazy new hair, and I omitted to put them back on when I was done. I didn't even notice until, just as I was leaving for home, the owner told me I'd left my glasses on the counter.
That's when I realized I could see clearly, without the haziness I'd grown used to since... Well, for almost as long as I can remember. Something had cured me of my myopia, and when I got a look at my eyes, I discovered they had turned ruby red...
I remove my glasses, looking over the object that helped me see the world as it should be seen, something that could, in a sense, be considered a part of me just as much as my natural kinky hair... I will have to relinquish them to their case, for now...
My little medical ritual is a welcome respite from all this insanity. I rub the estradiol gel through my skin, but I still need some water to swallow the cyproterone pill so I go to the bathroom. Walking, I note some lingering soreness in my lower back... Maybe I spent too much time upright yesterday? Could just be the stress...
Standing in front of the washbasin, I—
Wait, why am I so tall?
I should see myself below the brow in this mirror, but right now I only see myself below the nose. I need to stand back a step for my strange red eyes to be visible again. Unknown symbol, Goldilocks hairdo, fiery eyes, and now a growth spurt..? But my shirt still fits just fine... And my pants—
Oh, I see the problem. Silly me, I've been standing on my toes without noticing... I force my feet to lay flat on the cold tiles, but standing like that – how I should be standing – throws my whole balance out of whack!
Freaky...
Well, what's one more strange thing this weekend, right? Fortunately it's not as dramatic as the other changes, so I let my feet do as they want. My body doesn't even have any issue stabilizing itself now, and somehow standing on my heels feels... weird.
I bend just a little more than usual to gaze at my reflection. It's... unnerving. I know it's me in the mirror, but not with the right eyes, nor the right hair, and without glasses... I would expect my sense of identity to erode at least a little, or some kind of dysphoria maybe – I sure have plenty of personal experience on the subject – but...
It doesn't look so out of place, in a way..?
I mean, it's still mighty strange, no question: I've never seen anybody with truly red irises like these, and I'm not sure blond people usually have hair this vibrant, or if slightly wavy hair is supposed to be this puffy... At least now that my ears hem in this unruly mane, it falls much more harmoniously, most of it pushed back to fall almost all the way down my back, with only a big curly forelock... left...
...
OH MY GOSH HOW COULD I NOT NOTICE MY EARS!!??
I take an instinctive step back, but in my shock I slip and fall on my— OWW!
Alright, alright, it's okay, just calm down Amber, calm down... Calm down, don't forget to breathe, it's going to be alright...
... Who am I even trying to convince!? I have freaking animal ears!!
“Are you all right Ambre?”, comes Mr. Dejean's voice from the other side of the bathroom's door. Darn, I must've screamed or something... And I can feel – ughh! – I can feel these ears swiveling back to track the sound of his voice!
“Er yes, yes! I'm okay Mr. Dejean, don't worry! I'll... I will come out in a minute!”
He leaves without further questions, thank goodness..!
I'm sorely tempted to remain down here on the tiled floor, if only to postpone as much as possible the moment I'll have to brave the mirror again... But I'm beginning to be really worried that falling on my butt hurt so much, while at the same time it feels like I'm sitting on a plush pillow... So I pluck up the courage to stand, and face my inhuman reflection.
These ears are big, almost a hand's length and width, and are set higher on my skull, the base more or less level with my brow. I brush trembling fingers along the smooth skin left where my ears should be; the contact makes me shiver, and in response these new ears fold back, pretty much like an annoyed cat's... Also like a cat, they are covered in short soft fur, a reddish brown slightly lighter than my skin, though the ear tips are noticeably darker, and the general shape actually looks quite different from a cat's... Horse-like would be more like it.
Horse-like...
I turn my head to the side, and now I understand why my new hair feels so darn long: it's growing all the way down my neck, like an honest-to-goodness mane!
And if there's a mane...
I spin to get a better view of my backside. The seat of my PJ pants is bulging with... something. Said something even quivers as I'm thinking about it... I fish under the fabric and pull out what I'm forced to describe as a freaking tail! Its base is anchored where my tailbone should be, proving that yes it is a part of me... The underside is hairless and darker than my skin, while apart from just a bit of reddish brown fuzz at the anchor point, the top and sides of the thing are buried in a mass of tangled golden locks.
Released from my pants, this frigging tail starts swaying from side to side of its own accord, allowing the hair to unfold fully and gain a fluffiness on par with the mane's. Seriously, this thing looks even longer, how could it fit in my pants? Or, better question, how didn't I even notice!?
Oh no wait, wait, I have an even better one!
WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME!!??
I crumble back on the floor, tears streaming from my eyes as I huddle miserably, this treacherous tail curling around my legs...
Everything is crashing down... What will I do now!?
Eh, thinking about it, it's almost funny in a way! I was finally managing to turn my life around, I was succeeding at holding two different jobs at once and have a roof over my head, my transition was progressing even better than expected, I worked hard to never ever again end up on the street, I did everything right... and what's my reward for not giving up!? Ha, it's Fate turning me into even more of a freak, robbing me of everything I've worked so hard for!!
I knew things couldn't keep on improving without somehow backfiring horribly sooner or later! It always happened before, why not now? Though I admit I wouldn't have believed it would take the form of freaky mutations...
What will I do now..?
...
Well, one thing's for sure, laying on the floor's not going to change anything...
... But why bother? It's already hard enough to be a woman, and black, and trans, now I'm an actual furry! Either they'll laugh at me, or hate me as an all-new kind of freak, or probably both at once! No business owner will want anything to do with such a grotesque employee, no doctor will ever take me seriously again...
... But it's not the end either. Each time Fate kicked me in the shins it felt like I wouldn't ever get back on my feet, but I did. Sure it was hard, but I grew even stronger for it. Fate had doctors assign me the wrong gender at birth, but I fought to prove they were wrong, and I did. Fate took my family away because I didn't comply with the identity they imposed me, but I proved I could take care of myself on my own and didn't need anybody else.
There's no reason for this new challenge to be any different. And even if eventually it proves to be, I'll not know that until I try!
So get up Ambre, and try!
I obey the command, raising to my toes – hey, if I keep this particular change at least I'll have no more issues walking in heels! See girl, that's the spirit!
I rub away the last traces of my tears, flash a determined smile at my strange reflection in the mirror, and finally get out of the bathroom. Back in my room, I try to act pragmatically. Loose sweatpants will allow some room to hide this fluffy tail down a leg. For the ears... Ah, there, my old gray wool beanie. This way I can more or less hide the horse ears, and also the fact I don't have human ones anymore if I let some hair on the sides of my head. High heels aren't exactly fashionable with sweatpants, though... Sneakers will have to do, even if I must tiptoe. I just hope nobody will look too closely...
As I gear up, I see my phone flashing.
Drat! I was so tired when I got out of work, I must've forgot to turn off silent mode last night!
I look and, yeah... Four texts from Sarah, first yesterday evening, last this very minute: 'Hey Ambre more changes for Laurence and I how is on your side'.
'More changes' all right...
I dial back, putting the phone on speakers to account for, well, ears not being in the correct place, and Sarah answers right away:
“Ambre, you alright? You had us worried here!”
“Yeah sorry... I'm all right, except for, well, you-know-what...”
“How is it for you? We got weird eyes and hair yesterday, and freaky ears and tail during the night.”
“Don't forget the tiptoeing.”, adds another voice on the phone. Was that Sébastien?
“... And the truly outlandish and terrifying urge to walk around on our tippytoes – thank you for reminding us of this essential fact, Sébastien.”
“I can check off all five items on my side...”
“We figured as much. We're at Laurence's place right now, you're okay if we come pick you up?”
“That would be great, yeah. Don't exactly fancy taking the tram in this situation...”
“Alright, text me your address when we're done. We talked it out, and we think it'd be safer to all stay together 'til this whole craziness's done with, so prepare your sleepover supplies!”
“Perfect, see you soon then!”
I send her the address as soon as we hang up. It feels good to be reminded that I'm not alone... I've lived in emotional isolation for so very long, it's somewhat fascinating to imagine that it's not just me against the whole world anymore – at least for as long as this crisis is ongoing.
Anyway, packing bags, tidying up the room... I always took care to keep all my stuff close together and well organized, ready to be packed quickly if I had to leave in a rush, so that doesn't take too long. At least my pessimism proved useful for one thing... And now, I should at least warn Mr. and Mrs. Dejean, that I'll probably not be here for a couple days.
I find them on the first floor, Mr. Dejean watching an auto show on the television while his wife is dusting one of the tall bookcases.
“Ah Ambre!”, Mrs. Dejean calls as she notices me, “We heard some commotion earlier, everything all right?”
I fight the urge to flat-out admit that things are everything but all right: “Just a little clumsiness on my part, no harm done, promise! Er, I—”
“Oh that's a relief really! But whyever are you wearing a cap in the house? Is it too cold for you? I remember one of our friends, she was half-Malagasy from her father's side and she always complained that it wasn't hot enough when she was visiting!”
“No, no, it's not that, it's—”
“And really it's a shame, hiding this glorious coiffure! I must say it suits you marvelously, I wish I was still young enough to dare a style like that! But so much extensions, it must have cost a real fortune!”
“Er no, not at all, in fact I didn't have to pay anything.” ... Well that's true enough. But the conversation is getting out of hand, even more so than usual. “So, I—”
“Really!? I didn't know you had a stylist friend! Or did you do it yourself?”
“Marianne please,” interrupts Mr. Dejean, “let the poor dear speak, she clearly wants to talk to us about something.”
“Oh my! I'm so sorry Ambre, please, what is it? I really have a bad habit of talking too mu—”
Her husband clears his throat loudly.
“Oh, yes, yes...”, she mumbles, embarrassed, “Ambre?”
“So, er”, I start again with some hesitance, “I wanted to tell you, I won't be home for at least a couple days...”
“Oh!”, exclaims Mrs. Dejean, looking quite concerned, “Did something happen? If you have to travel somewhere, maybe we could help? Or are you going to a friend's, maybe? Or even a boyfriend's..?”
“Marianne...”
“... Yes, please pardon me Ambre, this must be personal and not my business...”
“No it's... It's okay, Mrs. Dejean. Yes I'm going to a friend's, we have a...” How to describe this insanity..? “... A bit of a common problem, that we hope to be able to deal with together.”
I can see Mrs. Dejean is positively itching to ask for clarifications, but to my eternal gratitude she abstains for the time being.
“So...”, I continue, “I will keep you informed of my whereabouts of course, and I will keep paying full rent for—”
Mrs. Dejean suddenly takes my hands in hers, scowling at me like an angry mother: “We will have none of that, Ambre. You will only pay for the nights you actually spend here, and not a cent more, understand? This is still your home, for as long as you need it. Our son would never forgive us for acting otherwise.”
I'm speechless, water beginning to rise at the corner of my eyes, and without thinking I pull Mrs. Dejean into a hug. She doesn't fight it though; instead she hugs me back tightly, while Mr. Dejean watches us with a fond smile.
They're both so kind... Why did I feel forced to keep them away, to prevent myself from opening up to them? And now I must leave them for who-knows how long... The bitterness at my own actions leads my ears to try swiveling back under the wool of my beanie. I tense up, hoping that this didn't just knock the cap loose..! No it's okay, it was just slightly pulled up, but the ears are...
Wait, why is Mr. Dejean looking at me so oddly..?
Oh no! He must have noticed the movement! Dang it, what am I going to te—
My phone rings, making me jump; I disentangle from Mrs. Dejean's embrace and see the caller's unknown... But the interruption is still welcome!
I pick up, get the phone to my ear, but hear only muffled, distant sounds...
Darn, ears not in the right place!
I put the call on speakers, but a quick glance confirms my fear: Mr. Dejean looks even more suspicious...
“Hey Ambre, you here?”, resonates Sébastien's voice.
“Yes, sorry; what's up?”
“I'm parked in your street, if you're ready to go.”
“Okay, see you soon.”
Hanging up, I look back at the Dejeans; Marianne smiles softly, encouraging, but her husband still gazes at me with furrowed brows...
I escape back to what has been my room for the better part of a year, and come back down with my full backpack to find my two hosts waiting for me by the doorway.
“So... I'll be off, then...”, I say, holding out my key to Mr. Dejean.
He reaches for it, but doesn't take the key. Instead, he makes my fingers close around it firmly:
“You are always welcome in this house, Ambre, whatever happens. Please be safe.”
“I... I will, Mr. Dejean. Thank you... Thank you so much. Take care of yourselves, both of you.”
I cross the door, and just keep on walking, without aim, to give time for the flurry of emotions in my heart to die down...
“Hey.”
I blink, finally noticing that Sébastien is standing right beside me, looking quite concerned.
“H– Hey...” I reply, voice catching, only now realizing I'm in tears.
“It's gonna be alright, don't worry...”, he murmurs, warm hand holding my trembling shoulder. “We'll get through this. Come on, the car's over there.”
He guides me until I let myself go limp in the passenger seat, and soon we're on our way to Laurence's...
Did I really need to have my whole life torn asunder, just to realize how much I was missing out, and willingly at that..?
“Hey,” says Sébastien, probably noticing me silently weeping at my own folly, “don't worry, I'm sure we'll get to the bottom of this very soon.”
Not what I was thinking about, but... “Really? Because I still don't have any idea of what all this madness is about...”
“Well,” he answers tentatively, “actually I... I may have an idea.”
Sarah's View
Pfff... TV programs are really lousy on Sunday mornings...
“Hey Laurence! Got Netflix or something?”
I hear a long-suffering sigh from my new housemate, who's been roving tirelessly through the living room as we wait for Sébastien to come back with Ambre. She grabs the remote from my hand, switches on her video game console, and soon I'm delivered a controller to roam through the digital video store's selection.
“Thanks!”
“Please don't watch anything I would disapprove of...”
I quirk an eyebrow, glancing at my grouchy companion in misfortune as she goes back to her aimless grinding of the floor. The changes certainly have done nothing to improve her mood, though her mop of jaw-length, light red hair – which she insists is actually 'dark pink' – has somewhat diminished her intimidating factor. Oh, and the pair of cute azure ears didn't help much either, hehe. She can wear her hoodie all she wants, I know what's under the fabric! Only saving grace would be the pure white stripe streaking her forelock, I admit it's somewhat stylish... as long as you don't think about skunks. From what I could see of her tail before she hid it, it was of a solid light red though. Well, she's still a grumpy pants, but at least now she looks a tad flashier!
Granted, I'm more or less in the same boat... My straight dark green mane has an annoying tendency to fall over my eyes, but apart from that it suits me fine. Even the tail, once it's free to flick and sweep at its leisure, isn't much of a hassle. The ears still need a bit of getting used to, though... They really have a mind of their own, like, while the left is aiming for the TV, the right can't help but twitch back every time Laurence walks closer to my side of the living room. It's pretty unusual to feel muscles working on the side and top of your head like that, and to hear things differently while otherwise not moving.
I'm still browsing when both ears spring towards the opening front door. Sébastien carries a large backpack, Ambre's I suppose, while the black girl is only holding a nondescript plastic bag. It's my first look at her since yesterday and goodness aren't those locks incredible! Even capped by this ugly beanie you can't escape the waves of golden curls! She certainly won out at the 'silly hair' game, that's for sure!
“Er, hey girls...”, Ambre greets with a little wave, though her gesture slows then halts as she stares at Laurence and I in turn, then specifically at the top of my bare head. Can't really fault her, though she seems to get more than a little self-conscious of how she's acting. When she addresses Laurence, it's without meeting her eyes: “May I use your kitchen, please..?”
“Be my guest.”, Grumpy Pants answers before zeroing in on Sébastien: “What took you so long?”
He shrugs. “When I told Ambre you didn't have any coffee, she insisted we stop somewhere on the way to buy some.”
Laurence snorts, while I just smile: “Hey Ambre, fix me one too, will ya?”
“Er... Laurence, is it okay if I use two of your glasses?”, we hear from the kitchen. “There's only one cup.”
Ambre's dilemma is quickly dealt with, and soon enough the four of us are together in the living room. Laurence's still standing, leaving her couch to Ambre and I, and Sébastien brought the computer chair. Oh, and the cat claimed Ambre's lap, taking advantage of the girl's inattention while she was focused on her beanie-freed ears, so everyone got their place, listening to a recap of these last half dozen hours of madness. I let them talk, enjoying my—
Ugh. It's instant coffee. At least it's not decaf, but still...
“We know the symptoms, the 'what',” Laurence sums up, “but do we have any hypotheses as to the 'how'?”
“What hypotheses do we not have..?”, Sébastien argues. “I don't see any technology that could accomplish all this without getting into the realm of science-fiction. Magic would be its own can of worms, and wouldn't help much either. This is quite clearly out of our grasp – and in this case 'us' includes most of humanity, I'm afraid...”
“Maybe it's just a disease, like a virus?”, I propose.
“That would be surprising. First the marks are too precise and flawless to be just biological in origin. Second, how would you have picked up this 'virus'? I think you'd have noticed if other people around you started to show any sign of change. Hell, I've been thisclose to you three since it began, and no butt mark for me yet.”
Laurence sighs. “So we know the 'what', but we're still at square one for the 'how'... That leaves us the 'why'. Any ideas?”
“Well...”, Ambre begins, “Sébastien, would you share your idea now?”
I perk up at that – ears included: “Idea? What idea?”
“He told me he had an idea of what could be behind these changes, but he, er, wanted to tell us all at once.”
“You had to wait for the dramatic reveal..?”, I deadpan at the guy, who at least has the decency to look embarrassed:
“I wanted to make sure Ambre had the exact same symptoms beforehand, just in case you two were just a coincidence... And honestly, even if it all fits, it's still reaaaally far out...”
Not like we expected things to get any simpler! “Well come on, spit it out!”
He sighs in obvious reluctance: “... You're ponying up.”
Uh?
Ambre clearly doesn't get it either: “What did we do that we would pay... like this?”
“No no no, I meant... You're ponying up, as in, you're becoming part-pony.”
...
You could hear a pin drop.
That's his idea..?
Laurence is the first to react, but with less skepticism than I was expecting: “Ponies..? As in, little horses?”
“... The ears and tail are definitely horse-like.”, Ambre agrees.
... Seriously?
“Oh come on, that's absurd!”, I rail at the ridiculous idea, “What would this even have to do with the thigh marks anyway? And besides, you ever saw green or blue or pink horses..?”
“Yes, actually.”, Sébastien states with barely any hesitation. “In My Little Pony.”
... Whaaaaaaaat..?
The name sounds a bit familiar though... Maybe... “'My Little Pony'..?” Ah yes! “Like the toy line?”
I remember those now. Never had any, as far as I know, I never went through the 'I wanna
pony!' phase in childhood.
“Well, yeah, the toys, and the animated series.”, Sébastien confirms with an aplomb at odds with the silliness of the subject. “And those thigh marks are actually cutie marks.”
I can't help but snort loudly at that: “'Cutie' marks? You couldn't find a more girly name..?”
The grown man spouting knowledge of plastic toys for little girls fidgets a bit, but not as much as I imagine most guys would.
“... You sound awfully sure of yourself, all of a sudden...”, Laurence says, squinting suspiciously at her friend. “How long?”
We all look at him, and the guilt on his face seems to confirm her hunch:
“Well right from the beginning it was one possible explanation for the nature of your marks, but honestly it was also one of the most outlandish, so... I just kept it to myself... I hoped I would be proved wrong.”
“There was no harm in telling us.”, Laurence scolds.
“What would've been the difference, really..?”, he scoffs weakly, “I was just gonna come and say something like, 'hey congratulations on getting your cutie marks, now you're grown ponies!'..?”
Well I'll kinda prove his point for him: “Yeah, no. I don't buy it, sorry. I don't know if you noticed, but there's kind of a not-so-thin line between cartoons and real life...”
He actually has the nerve to frown at me: “Thank you kindly for the tip. What's the quote again? Something like 'once you eliminate all the other possibilities, whatever remains, no matter how extraordinary, must be the truth'? Because that's basically what we're dealing with here, in case you didn't notice. What's happening to you? It's the definition of extraordinary. And trust me, if some cartoon had to come take a break on our side of the fourth wall, I'd have wished for something a bit more badass, like Wakfu or Avatar...”
He thought his little rant was convincing..? “So then according to you we would be stuck looking like pastel toy ponies from a show for preteen schoolgirls, for... some reason? How could this get any more ridiculous, seriously!?”
“Yeah I know,” he answers with contempt poorly disguised as sarcasm, “I would love to become an airbender too, but we must accept the cold, hard facts. God, or whatever other Higher Powers there may be, must be bronies.”
I can only roll my eyes at that.
... And what do brownies have to do with anything anyway?
Ambre bravely tries to cut through the sudden tension: “Maybe you really are onto something, Sébastien, but still... I doubt we have exhausted all the other possible explanations yet.”
“Maybe in theory, but Occam's Razor and all this crap: my idea still works far better than any other you could think of, I'm sure.”
... The nerve!! He's lucky I still have this stupid coffee in my hands and can't put it down anywhere!
And no, I'll not put it in his face... Though he would deserve it!!
“Okay, calm down people!”, Laurence barks with surprising authority. The cat finally has enough of our bickering and bails out, lucky him.
Certain she has our attention, Laurence carries on: “We are still walking in the dark with this. Even if I too am very doubtful,” she says while looking at me, “we must admit that, for the time being, Séb's idea is still our one and only lead to maybe understand what is happening. So, now,” she addresses her friend, “could you give us a little more details?”
“Yes, so... Where to begin... So as you may know, the 'My Little Pony' franchise began as toys, but they also made animated shows for, well, for selling more toys. There were some cartoons in the 80s, but the most recent, and successful, was the 'Friendship Is Magic' animated series which debuted in 2010. It was quite popular in the US, and arguably still is, though it never caught much of a following here. It lasted five seasons, which are on Netflix, by the way.”, he says while pointing offhandedly at the TV, before going right back to his dissertation: “It was surprisingly good, for a kids show, with a good message and engaging characters, and thanks to that there's a lot of adults fans. It's not perfect, of course, but I'd still recommend it. Though I warn you, the very last episode is really frustrating, 'cause it ends on a massive cliffhanger just after a reeeeally dark turn nobody expected. For a while there were talks of a sixth season, but it never happened, not even a continuation of Equestria Girls. If you ask me, this move is what really destroyed the fandom; everybody felt really let down by the creators. Like, they could have done a continuation in comics like Buffy, or in novels, but no! Hasbro put a clamp on their own franchise! Even the toys have moved from Gen 4 to Gen 5. If you're curious there's some really good fan continuations out there...”
He finally notices that Laurence has been squinting at him for some time...
“... buuut I guess that's not really relevant to the current situation.”
I raise an eyebrow at that: “What's supposed to be 'relevant' in all your blabbing, exactly..?”
“Well, dear Sarah, what's relevant is that it all fits together! You get cutie marks, you gain pony attributes, what more do you want?”
More than you can offer, clearly...
Laurence squints at Sébastien and me now: “Please stay civil, you two...”
Pfff...
“Er, I'm not familiar with this cartoon at all, or the toys for that matter.”, Ambre states. “If we can play it on the television like you implied, maybe it would help?”
Laurence reclaims the controller to do just that. Soon we get a taste of Netflix's preview for the series 'My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic', and it looks... meh. Technicolor cartoon horsies talking about friendship... What did I expect? “So it's like, what, a Care Bears ripoff or something?”
“It's far more than just a cutesy aesthetic, trust me. Actually, we should watch at least the pilot, to give you an idea. First season's not the best, but it's as good a lead-in as any.”
And so Ambre and I make some space for Laurence to sit on the couch with us, and we launch the show, with an episode titled, appropriately enough, 'Friendship is Magic'...
...
Eh, that opening's right out of a Disney movie... Art style's neat though.
... That fairy tale sounds familiar somehow. Maybe I watched it once and don't remember?
Theme song's as kitschy as it's catchy...
...
Ha! That 'Twilight' character gives me strooong Ambre vibes all of a sudden! Glancing at her, she seems strangely enraptured by the silly cartoon.
... Laurence too, for some reason. Both their eyes and furry ears, for the pair I can see, are riveted to the screen. Sébastien is the fan here, and he does look at the screen with some fondness, but that's not what I see in Laurence and Ambre's expression...
Maybe I should take this more seriously..?
“... the night will last forever!”, Nightmare Moon cackles, and—
... Wait what d'you mean, 'to be continued'!? You can't end things like this, that's criminal!
“Don't worry, part two's coming right up...”, Sébastien snarks. I can't fault him – well okay I'll still fault him a little, the jerk – seeing as both Ambre and Laurence seem to have reacted pretty much like me.
True to his words, soon enough we're back to the ponies and their adventures, and I fall right back in...
Who could have thought this show would be so engaging?
The episode's end comes far more quickly than I expected – I barely noticed the passage of time, carried along by the adventures of these six brave mares.
“Well girls, I trust you liked what you saw?”
I did. I can't explain why, exactly, or point at something specific...
“It's... strange.”, Ambre begins. “If I look at it objectively, there's nothing especially remarkable about these episodes, or the world itself. It's a fantasy adventure with ponies instead of humans, with a very literal interpretation of the 'power of friendship' trope, and maybe that's why it all sounds so familiar... Though it's true that it's nice to see so many diverse feminine characters in this kind of story, for once. And yet... I'm not sure I can isolate precisely what makes the whole so... so powerful, at least for me...”
“Like you just watched something important, right?”, I suggest.
“That would be one way to define it, I suppose... Laurence?”
She looks troubled, with a frown that grows more and more pronounced, but she doesn't answer – she just keeps raking her knees with her nails.
Ambre turns to Sébastien instead: “So you think this is related to what's happening? That we are 'ponying up'..?”
“I can't imagine it's not related in some way or another. As for ponying up specifically...” He pulls out his phone, searches for a bit, then presents us with a Youtube clip: “This is from the climax of one of the Equestria Girls movies. Basically, it's an alternate universe where the ponies are high-school humans, but when they use their powers they pony up, just like this.”
We watch the short video, and I have to stifle a laugh at the utter silliness of the thing. I was pleasantly surprised by the ponies, I admit, and maybe there's really a link, at least in the mind of the person who's playing with our lives. But that thing? Yeah no, that's really taking things too far. What is he thinking, that we became real singing magical pony-girls right out of the blue..?
“But we're not Elements of Harmony, we don't have any power that could induce this kind of change in the first place... And there it's instant and flashy, while we barely noticed our own changes as they happened. I'm not sure this fits so well, Sébastien.” Thank you Ambre for putting that more eloquently than I would have!
“All the same, it appears to be... mostly coherent with our symptoms.” Seriously, Laurence? That's your take? No comment on the ponies, but you think this holds up?
“Pff. Still don't buy it. The only thing it would prove is that someone, or something, is using this show as inspiration for these changes. Clearly they have good taste, but otherwise, that doesn't help us at all.”
“We still know more than when we started this morning, that's a positive, no?”, Ambre points out. Yeah okay, she's not completely wrong...
“Yeah, don't be so negative Sarah!”, Sébastien quips with obvious condescension. “You clearly loved my 'stupid pony cartoon', didn't you..?”
Wha— I ball my fists, ready to jump to my feet; how DARES he look at me that smu—
“Stop! Both of you!”, Laurence orders with a mighty stomp of her toes.
... It's enough to stall us both. I huff and let myself fall back against the couch, arms crossed. Ambre doesn't look too peppy either, even if she wasn't the target of Laurence's ire.
“How many times will I have to call for order just to stave off your petty squabbles?”, she hisses, massaging the bridge of her nose. “We're supposed to work together here! Sarah, I understand that all this is getting on your nerves, and I'll be the first to agree that it is difficult to take this pony business seriously, but it still seems to be our only hypothesis, and thus we need to treat it with appropriate seriousness. Sébastien? Please stop adding fuel to this fire. You're already a big help, to all of us. And Amber?”
The black girl sits up straight, ears alert, even if Laurence mangled her name: “Yes Sarge?”
Eh. Didn't take her for the sarcastic type.
“You seem to have better luck at keeping a cool head right now. What do you think?”
Put on the spot, Ambre fidgets a moment before she dares to give her opinion:
“I... I don't know... It's certainly too many similarities between what's happening to us and this show for it to be just be a coincidence, and yet, from what we've just watched neither of our symbols are present in the show itself? You've seen the whole series, Sébastien, right?” He nods. “Then you would have recognized them if they were, I'm sure?”
“After I first got the idea that it could be cutie marks, I looked for all official ponies, even a bunch of original characters. They were some that looked close, but nothing conclusive. And since you've started showing coat and mane colors, I can confirm you're not supposed to be any known ponies.”
“Then... Maybe it's all random? Are there any links between 'cutie marks' and, I don't know, profession, or hobbies? Like, apples for an apple farmer? Or with types of ponies?”
“You're on the right track. Cutie marks are supposed to represent a pony's destiny, what they're best at, what they love to do, or their special talent. Like, Applejack's apples represent her dedication and proficiency at managing her apple farm, or Fluttershy's butterflies her connection to animals, this kind of thing.”
“We already discussed this point, indirectly,” Laurence remarks, “and we couldn't find unambiguous links between ourselves and our respective marks – at least nothing that could correspond to your definition, Séb. So this would indeed suggest some degree of randomness.”
“And what about pony types?”
“There is a loose correlation between type of mark and pony tribe, but there's a bunch of exceptions too.”
“What about our case then?”
“A plant for Sarah, I'd put my money on earth pony.”
“... 'Earth' pony?”
“Those without horns and wings.”
I sigh. “Just regular little green horse for me then..?”
“More or less.”, Sébastien agrees. “Fans suggest that earth ponies could be better at farming or generally tougher and stronger, but that's not really canon. Now, for you Ambre I'd wager you're getting unicorn.”
“Really? Why?”
“Uh, your horn's showing, for starters.”
The poor girl's hands fly to her head, feeling their way to the reddish brown nub that has grown just in front of her scalp. With her mass of curls and her already dark brown skin I hadn't noticed, but maybe she didn't even have it when she arrived?
While Ambre fondles herself nervously, Sébastien turns to Laurence, who looks even paler than usual, if that's possible: “With you I'm not sure anymore. Stars are pretty typical for unicorns, because it's linked to magic, but the vortex could also say 'pegasus'. Could you drop the hoodie for a minute, see if you have a mini-horn too?”
“No.”
There's no strength in her rebuttal. Only fear. I guess it's because we both came to the same realization:
“Hey Mr. Ponypedia, even if these changes are indeed linked to this stupid show of yours... How far will they go, huh? I mean, the ears, the tail, the horn, what's next? Or is it already finished? Will it just wear off? Because if I'm not mistaken, I didn't see any of your magical pony-girls with horns like Ambre here, and I'm not sure she even had it when she got here. So, are we still changing? Do you have an answer for that?”
I pointedly ignore Laurence's token effort at a reproving squint for my crudeness. I know she wants to know too. Or maybe she's actually afraid to know..?
“I... I honestly have no idea...”, Sébastien stammers. “It could just stop there, like if you had ponied-up as in Equestria Girls, more or less, or maybe progress at least to the anthro level, or...”
“Er, Sarah..?”
I turn to Ambre, and see that she's staring at my feet.
“I think you just got your answer...”