//------------------------------// // Mostly Inconspicuous // Story: The Salmon of Harmony // by Hopkinz //------------------------------// Chapter 1 Bonbon woke up with sun in her eyes. This was odd because she could have sworn that she lived facing towards the west. It was as if the sun had purposefully risen in such a way that it bounced off the mirrors of the mirror shack next door purposefully shining into her eyes with a cold, dark glint in its eyes. Bonbon got up, grudgingly pasted her toothbrush, and stared at herself in the mirror. She decided that she wasn't a very good sight at all, as the juxtaposition of her eyebrows combined with her angry frown and overall disposition seemed to come together to scream, ‘I’m bored oh god I’m so bored someone kill me now I’m so damn bored’, which wasn't a very nice thing for a pony’s face to scream. This was especially true if that somepony spent her mornings selling candy to little foals. Now, Bonbon’s boredom wasn't the kind of boredom that could be cured by taking a purple pill at the beginning of every day, for it was the kind of boredom that could only be formed by the oh-so-dreaded horrors of routine. Her day was completely and utterly predictable, from the candies that the little foals would buy at her candy shoppe, down to the surprisingly predictable oddness of her best friend and roommate, Lyra Heartstrings. She descended the stairs, and saw little grooves from where Lyra would stand and think whatever it was that she thought before descending the stairs. "She's paying for that," muttered Bonbon. She opened the fridge, and wasn’t surprised in the least to find that the slice of cherry-banana cake she’d specifically asked Lyra to not eat was gone; presumably eaten, though it was altogether possible that the minty unicorn had sold it to her next door neighbors. She poured herself some cereal and wasn’t surprised in the least to find that it tasted wonderfully, delightfully, completely and wholly awful. This was because one of Lyra’s socks was inside her bowl, soaking in the milk. Bonbon continued eating, because that was just the kind of day she felt like she ought to have. *** If one were to record all the thoughts that Lyra Heartstrings had had in all her lengthy sojourn in Equestria, the number one most thought thought on that record would be: ‘Normal pony walk. Normal pony walk.’ While this would most definitely be an odd thought for a perfectly normal Equestrian to have, Lyra Heartstrings wasn’t that normal, nor was she an Equestrian, so it was perfectly alright. Lyra woke up early that day; she woke up even earlier than her roommate Bonbon, which was quite unusual for her; a perfectly unnormal resident of someplace that wasn’t Equestria. She stepped out of bed, and immediately thought, ‘Normal pony walk, normal pony walk,’ for she was tempted to do the ‘wake up walk’ often done by the ponies in Beatlejuice, her hometown. She descended the stairs, and only a ridiculously long amount of time thinking ‘Normal pony walk, normal pony walk’ could keep her from descending the stairs like a Grackle Hound from the magical city of Ponipropolis. She walked into the kitchen, and searched for some food in the cupboards. There was none except for a tiny packet of cereal which, for some odd reason, had one of her own socks in it. The only food inside the fridge consisted of a half-rotten cabbage roll, which she didn’t even like that much anyways, and a tiny slice of cherry-banana cake. The minty unicorn levitated the tiny slice of cake out and ate it as quickly as she could, hoping that Bonbon wouldn’t catch her eating the slice of cake that she’d promised she wouldn’t eat. Of course, she had eaten it, which meant that she was now morally obligated to pick up another one from Sugarcube Corner, offer Bonbon a tiny slice, and eat the rest. This also meant that she was morally obligated to put the cake on Bonbon’s tab, since it was her fault she’d had to buy another cherry-banana cake in the first place. As Lyra stepped outside, into the bright, warm, forgiving light, she relished the fact that she didn’t have a hangover, and didn’t feel the blinding pain of half a thousand suns burning into her eyes. It was a very nice day out, she decided, one of the best. Perfect to have breakfast at Sugarcube Corner, if she were in any position to judge such a thing. Surprisingly, she was. In fact, she’d written hundreds of restaurant reviews, when-to-eat timetables, and quite a few editorials on ‘Why lunch is, without a doubt, the best meal of the day’, none of which would be read by anypony in Equestria. This was because she wrote things for The Prodigal Explorer’s Map, no copies of which, in part or in whole, have been printed in Equestria. There were currently three copies of The Prodigal Explorer’s Map out there in Equestria, one of which is currently residing in a dusty little cupboard in a desk in the basement of the Sugarcube Corner. Another one, quite coincidentally, could also be found in the Sugarcube Corner, though it resides in a satchel hanging off a certain pink earth pony’s neck, containing a well used towel, a small toolbox, a travel visa and a small black tablet twice the size of her hoof. The third one could be found in the Royal Canterlot Chambers, sitting there looking terribly lonely and out-of-place on Princess Luna’s nightstand. On her way to Sugarcube corner, Lyra passed by several ponies, some of which she knew by name, and the others which she just guessed based on their cutie marks. ‘Good morning, Sugar Grape,’ she said to one pony she knew by name. ‘Good morning, Lyra,’ replied Sugar Grape. ‘Good morning, Hammer and Chisel Flank,’ said Lyra to another, who she didn’t know by name. She wasn’t very good with these, you see. Smith Black waved stupidly at her, because he didn’t know Lyra’s name by heart, and didn’t want to end up accidentally calling her Flank Harp Lady, which he had always thought had been her name until he’d sat down and thought about how utterly stupid a name it would be. So he just wore a silly grin and waved stupidly at her every time he passed her by. She managed to make it to Sugarcube Corner without meeting anypony she didn't know, which she was grateful for. She took a seat just close enough to the windows to be considered a window seat, yet far enough that the sunlight didn’t get into your eyes. Within seconds, Carrot Cake was at her table. ‘Good morning, Lyra. What can I do for you?’ ‘I’ll take some cherry-banana cake and some coffee, if you wouldn’t mind,’ she replied. The orange earth pony furrowed his brows. ‘That’s it?’ he asked. Lyra nodded, wondering why he would ask such a question. The truth was, while Lyra had done her absolute best to blend in with society, she’d always seemed quite odd to some ponies in Ponyville. Carrot Cake was one of these ponies, and he'd been trying to get Lyra to order some weird dish that could prove to his wife Lyra was indeed quite odd. ‘Of course. It’ll be right there in a jiffy,’ said Carrot. He thought for a minute and decided that a cake and coffee was a perfect way to start the day, which meant that he still didn't have any proof. Some day, he thought, someday. One jiffy later, a prancing pink pony prattling proudly pranced her way over to Lyra. "Good morning, Lyra! Isn't today’s gona to be an awesome, splunderific funtastic day?" said Pinkie Pie. "Eh... sure, why not?" responded Lyra. On top of the pink earth pony’s back was a platter with a square box and a steaming cup of coffee. And hanging off her neck was- "Hey, Pinkie, how’d you get that satchel?" "Oh this! I found this when Mr. Cake told me to go clean up the basement, and then I went to the basement and I found this really really neat satchel and I just really wanted it but I can’t get it open so I just put it around my neck!" She poked at the neckstrap to prove her point. "See?" "That’s my satchel," said Lyra, who could see nothing about Pinkie’s point, and was sincerely hoping that she wouldn’t try to restate it. She levitated the flap open with her horn and pulled her travel visa out, to prove her very own point, which was byfar more important than Pinkie’s point. The pink earth pony made an 'ooooh' sound when she realized that you were supposed to lift the flap. "See?" Pinkie Pie could see a lot about Lyra’s point, and decided that the satchel was, in fact, Lyra’s. "Okie Dokie Loki!" she said. She gave her the satchel along with the platter, and bounded away as all prancing pink ponies prancing do. *** There is a race of vaguely equine not-ponies who reside in the Forest of Ragerock Quadra Deno. They spend every single waking moment of their every waking lives losing stuff in places in which they’d never think to look, simply so that they could wake up, eat breakfast, and experience that feeling of ecstasy that one so often feels upon finding something that they lost and never thought they’d ever find again. There is even a little shop in the forest that sells inconsequential trinkets for moderately low prices, which specialize in getting lost and being found days later. It also sold copies of The Prodigal Explorer’s Map. It has been said that so many copies of The Prodigal Explorer’s Map have been sold and ‘accidentally’ lost that if one were to get kidnapped on their way to the convenience store to buy some milk, it’d be an easy task to bend down, scrape some dirt away, and pick up a copy, thus allowing you to read the article on escaping alien kidnappings. This wasn't as helpful as it should have been, as the entry on escaping alien kidnappings, should the aliens allow you to read it, consisted of "Run. Run really fast." *** It was this feeling of intense ecstasy that Lyra felt as she rifled through her old satchel, containing all the belongings she’d brought over from It’s Beyond. She’d lost her satchel when she’d moved into Ponyville, in a freak accident involving a grass seed, some lemons, and a banana-cherry cake. She’d decided that she could do without a satchel, as it had made her seem gangly and discouraged ponies from picking her up. And then she remembered that she needed a travel visa in order to cross the border between Equestria and It’s Beyond, and that her toolkit contained all of her tools of hitchhikery. It has been said that in order to obtain a new travel visa, one would have to go to Princess Celestia’s in Canterlot, wait six months for an audience, and personally request a travel visa to replace the one you’d lost. Lyra had went, waited three months, witnessed the eternal night brought upon them by Nightmare Moon, decided that life was too short, sold her audience slot to a gangly looking vagabond, and planned to live a nice, placid life in Ponyville. Even now that her satchel was right there, sitting in front of her, she had second thoughts about continuing her adventurous life of hitchhiking. Except... There was a note in her satchel. It wasn’t the best note in the world, nor was it written with the best paper in the world, but the very fact that there was something unfamiliar in her satchel was enough to draw a fair amount of attention to it. 'Morning, older Lyra,' it read, 'this is younger Lyra. I’m just here to remind you, in case you’ve drank too much booze to remember, that Tax Reform Day is coming. You might wanna prepare for it.' Ah. Tax Reform Day. The 21rst of June, 1000 years after Princess Luna lost her travel visa on the moon. ‘Hey, Mr. Cake?’ she called. ‘Yes?’ ‘What day is it?’ ‘The 21rst, dearie.’ ‘June?’ ‘Yes, June.’ ‘I see.’ Lyra slowly unwrapped the cherry-banana cake, ate a slice and washed it down with a cup of coffee. So it’s gonna be one of those days, isn’t it? thought Lyra. *** According to any modern day health magazine, coffee is a poisonous substance, with such high amounts of caffeine that it can drastically alter your body and mutate your childs. It also gives many charts, quotes, and tables, all set on proving that caffeine was the worst substance in the known universe, and that it should probably be banned from every shop, sub station, and restaurant out there. Also, it states that you probably shouldn’t be drinking it, either. The Prodigal Explorer’s Map states that coffee is the best substance in the known and unknown universe, that it does everything that you need it to do, that curing a hangover and waking up are the only things that you ever need your drink to do, and that you should drink as much as you want, when you want, because ‘think of it as a cup of boiled bean soup, which has never killed anypony before, except for all those ponies it killed.’ It also tells you where to find coffee, which shops give you the best coffee, and includes numerous falsified tables, charts, and quotes, all set on proving that the people writing the modern day health magazines were complete and utter incompetent drunkards. One of these books drastically outsold the other. *** Bon-Bon found herself in an indoor coffee shop, barely conscious of how she got there or why she was there in the first place. She vaguely recalled that it was the closest coffee shop to where she was at the moment she remembered that she needed that coffee. Her steaming mug of coffee sat on a sparkly clean table. It was boiling hot, which, in her opinion, was the worst kind of hot. She resigned herself to sitting there and waiting for it to cool. Her vision blurred. The walls danced circles around her, singing badly done renditions of Journey’s ‘Don’t Stop Believing’. She took a sip, wishing desperately for the coffee to have cooled so that she could wake up, cure her nonexistent hangover, and end the oral tortures inflicted upon her by her mind. Impossibly, the coffee seemed to have gotten slightly hotter. Obviously, this meant that it was a Sunday. She could never get the hang of Sundays. ‘You feel like you should be going to church, but then you realize that you have no idea what in Celestia’s name a church is in the first place,’ she’d say to anypony who would listen. Usually, it was nopony, but at times it was Lyra, who would nod her head sagely and say something about churches that Bon-Bon couldn’t possibly hope to decipher. By strange coincidence, it was Lyra who barged into the coffee shop, yelling Bon-Bon’s name into the crowd of ponies. Everpony turned to glare at Bon-Bon, who was doing her absolute best to make herself seem as small as possible. ‘There you are!’ cried Lyra, dashing over to her. ‘We have to talk. Preferably at a bar.’ She said. Her minty green and white striped mane was disheveled, and she was panting for air, as if she’d run all the way from… wherever it is that Lyra had come from. ‘Why a bar?’ she replied. ‘I like alcohol.’ ‘What about my coffee?’ asked Bon-Bon. ‘We don’t have time for this, Bon-Bon. What I’m about to tell you is about this much,’ and here she held her hooves apart as if measuring the size of some fish, ‘more important than your cup of coffee.’ ‘Uh... how much more?’ ‘Well, if your coffee is about this important,’ Lyra held her hooves less apart, ‘then what I’m about to tell you is this important,’ and she spread her hooves out fairly wide apart, as if she was measuring the size of a particularly large fish found in the Pan Raver Lake inside Pineconepropolis. Bonbon nodded and followed Lyra, as this had sounded like a perfectly reasonable explanation. They went into the best bar in town, which was whichever bar was closest to them, which happened to be next door. It was empty save for Berry Punch, the resident alcoholic, who was busy being drunk and poking at the glossy counter with one hoof. ‘Er, hi, Berry,’ said Bon-Bon, in a rather awkward tone that betrayed her unease. She smiled nervously at everypony else in the bar, which was nopony, and it made her feel quite silly. Lyra sat down on a velvet bar stool and ordered two glasses of alcoholic punch for her, a third for Bon-Bon. She turned to her best friend and roommate and said, ‘Bon-Bon, what I’m about to say will shock you. It will scare you. I can’t even guarantee that you’ll be perfectly sane after I’m done telling you what I have to say. So here, drink this,’ she said in all seriousness, motioning for Bon-Bon to drink the glass of punch that the bartender had slid across to her. Bon-Bon wasn’t much of a drinker, but if there was anything she knew, it was that alcohol was about as good of a cure for hangovers and woke you up as well coffee did. So she downed it in one gulp, got alcohol burn in her throat, and spent the next half minute panting heavily and cursing Celestia for ever creating intelligent life forms who would somehow discover alcohol. Once Bon-Bon had stopped using colorful expletives that Lyra didn’t even know she knew, she laid a hoof on her shoulder. ‘Are you ready to hear this now? Bon-Bon, who had just been cured of her hangover, was simply ecstatic to find that there existed a life in which walls didn’t dance around her, singing badly sung renditions of Journey’s ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ and nodded. Thus approved, Lyra leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, ‘I’m not actually a citizen of Equestria. I’m from a little town in It’s Beyond, just in the boundaries of this little Kingdom called BeatleJuice.’ Bonbon decided that this was also perfectly reasonable, and nodded her head. ‘I’ve been staying here in Ponyville because I’d lost my travel visa,’ continued Lyra. Bon-Bon looked at her quizzically for a while. ‘Well, why didn’t you get a new one? I’m sure that it would be perfectly fine with the Princess if you went to court and asked for one,’ she said at last. ‘What, and wait six months for an audience?’ replied Lyra, her voice full of incredulosity, as if that was the single craziest thing she’d ever heard in her life. ‘Well, why not?’ asked Bon-Bon. ‘Why not? Why not? Well if we’re doing that, we might as well wait six months for a publishing license, go six months without eating, or even go six months without drinking water! Nothing’s worth waiting six months for. Ever!’ Lyra cried passionately, throwing her hooves up, ‘It’s in the Map.’ ‘What map?’ ‘Just let me finish my story, Bon-Bon. I’ve been working on it the whole morning.’ ‘Well, alright then.’ ‘Now, as I was saying, I lost my travel visa sometime during my adventures in Equestria. I had to explore everywhere, you see, otherwise my entry on Equestrians wouldn’t be quite good enough for The Map- ‘You keep talking about this map. I’m starting to think it doesn’t mean what I think it means.’ ‘The Prodigal Explorer’s Map! It’s an encyclopedia with an entry on everything, and I mean everything, in existence. I write things for it. It’s why I came to Equestria in the first place.’ Bon-Bon nodded awkwardly, attempting, and failing, to pretend as if she understood whatever it was that Lyra just said. ‘Um. Sure. That. Maps are actually encyclopedias. Sure. Gotcha.’ ‘Anyways, I found my old satchel in Sugarcube Corner. Wonder what that was doing there? So I looked inside and found this!’ Lyra pulled a dirty brown satchel off her neck, and poured out all of its contents. ‘I’m probably going to leave Equestria in the next five minutes, to be honest.’