"...hook this to that, leave space for a sleeping bag... HA! Finished!"
I stepped back to examine my workmanship. A blanket was wrapped around the bungie cords, which formed a spider web network around and through the handles of the suitpack, backsack, and satchel. It was no Carousel Boutique line, but this set of bags had been masterfully transformed into a glorious, monstrous parody of saddlebags.
"Adam Savage would be proud."
Now, toiletries. Packing a toothbrush and toothpaste was easy enough, my room had its own wet bar, but I had to go to the restroom to gather some soap and shampoo. When I turned around, I saw my sister staring at me.
"...Hi!"
"Um... hey. Reid?"
"Yeah. How'd you guess?"
"Reid's the only one who wears that coat," she replied matter of factly. "Also, I heard about this thing happening from a friend."
"Yeah, I should pay more attention to the news. If you'll excuse me, I need to keep packing."
She nodded, stepping aside. Good little sis, the most grounded of any of us... except my brother, who moved away. Why is it I'm the oldest and he moved away? Eh, I had free room and board, can't really complain. I just missed him.
Well, anyway...
Having put my toiletries, Pinkie's PJs and, after a moment's thought, the only pony shirt I owned into the suitpack (It's a silhouette of Rainbow's face with "20 percent cooler" printed under it), I maneuvered the whole assemblage onto my back. It was still a little unbalanced, but shoving my pads and iPad into the sackback helped a bit and I was planning on taking a sleeping bag anyway. On a whim, I grabbed my Figment puppet/plushie--you know, Figment from that old Disney ride about imagination? Purple dragon, yellow t-shirt? Gads I'm old-- and plunked him on top of the sackback.
"Wow... glad I'm an earth pony, or this would be reeeeeeally heavy!" I glanced back at the puppet/plushie. "Not that you're fat or anything."
So arranged, I headed down the stairs. Yes, the new weight on my back was kinda ruining my maneuvering, but by keeping pressed against the wall again I managed not to lose my balance. Once I was downstairs again, I headed into the garage. "Sleeping bag, sleeping bag. Should be... HERE!" I gripped the thing with my teeth and tugged it out of its friction-held slot on the shelving. Then I hung it off a spare bungee hook under the suitpack. Now all I needed was food! And my iPad charger, I belatedly realized. And a map. And a plan.
These epic adventures are a lot easier in the books.
With a shrug, I went to collect whatever I could shove into my suitpack for snacks. By this point, my other brother was in the kitchen, getting milk for his cereal. He didn't notice me trot into the pantry and shove all the cliff bars and granola bars into my haphazard saddlebags; he didn't look up when I trotted out to raid the fridge for the baby carrot packages. I was just stuffing the last cheesestick into my bag when he finally realized I was there.
"...What the heck?"
"Hey there."
"No seriously, what the heck?" He stared at me. "Who the heck are you?"
I shut the fridge door, having gathered my snackfood for the trip, and gave him a flat look. "Oh I don't know, internet phenomena, one of the main characters on the new pop culture hit, fourth wall breaker, mistress of mania, party pony, swallower of cakes, exalt of laughter.... I have a lot of titles, I get them confused."
"...Okay, so you're a pony." He snorted. "Why are you raiding the fridge?"
"I am about to embark on an epic quest full of mayham and mishaps to the strange and terrible city of New York in order to meet with the transmogrified Fausticorn and thereby prevent the apocalypse." I shrugged. "So I need some noms."
"Does my mom know about this?"
"Yes," Mom said, walking onto the scene. "I've called your brother, he'll be here in twenty minutes."
"Thanks Mom!"
My other brother blinked. "...Wait a minute. Are you Reid?"
"Mmmmyep."
"Why didn't you just say so?" he asked in annoyance.
"Because that was not what you were asking," I replied flippantly. "You were asking who I am, not who I was, and I know you were referring to my physical identity and not my mental one."
After a moment, he just snorted and returned to his cereal. With his hands. This was a major problem for me, finger envy, but I kept myself contained.
"Anyway," Mom added, pulling out her iPhone, "I have a route for you when your brother gets here. I'm e-mailing it to him now. You need anything before you go?"
"Yeah, can't find my charger. Oh, but I raided the fridge and the pantry, so on the food field we're in the clear."
"Oh... well, I'll, um, transfer money into your account."
I looked at her for a moment or two. She still seems a bit off... "Hey Mom? Could you come here?"
"Sure." She walked up to me. "What do you need?"
"...no, hold on, I don't think I can reach up there yet. Could you kneel down please?"
"O... kay..."
As soon as she was in range, I wrapped my forelimbs around her shoulders. "Thank you. Thank you for helping me whenever I needed it and putting up with me for more then two decades. I promise, I'll come back. Okay? Just, please, don't worry about me. You already have a lot on your plate, and knowing that you're back home worrying is not going to do me any favors."
She didn't exactly cry, but it was obvious she was holding back tears. "I'm sorry. It's just, this is sudden and you're my son and--"
"And I get it. Really. Thank you."
"...You're welcome."
It was... well, a moment between mother and son. A moment when we both realized how much we actually meant to each other, how much we had helped the other stand up to the world's challenges. I... had to leave this woman, who meant so much during all my life... I'm sorry, there's no real way to describe it.
After a minute, I broke off the hug. "Right, so! I'm going to go look for my charger."
"Yes. That..." Mom nodded, standing up. "That sounds like a good thing to do. And headphones."
"Oh yeah, can't forget those." I trotted toward the stairs. "Actually, am I even going to need them? I mean I might just burst out into a musical number at any random moment, you know, being Pinkie and all. It's what she does." I paused in my ascent, to give Mom a final look and a smile. "Hey, if I make up any new songs, I'll e-mail you the lyrics, okay?"
"I'd love to read them." She smiled back. "Or hear them."
"Oh, well in that case, I Pinkie promise to only sing in the presence of internet-connected recording devices. And send you the inevitable youtube links. Not the remixes, though." Giving a mock salute, I trotted back up the stairs to gather my collection of traveling wires.