//------------------------------// // Rainbow Dash: Fashionista and Part-Time Racer // Story: Becoming Rainbow Dash: A Tale of Two Worlds // by Freescript the Bard //------------------------------// <> Day 8 <> "Hey, Markus, check out this neat…" Whatever excitement Airheart had about the Rainbow Dash bandana she had found disappeared as she left the rows of clothing, perplexed at what she saw. Facing the design space, mouth slightly ajar, was a cyan pegasus mare with a ragged rainbow mane. Across the room, a cyan earth pony mare with a curled rainbow mane and a matching expression looked back. Between them, off to one side, was a girl dressed in all black clothing, and straight, blue-dyed hair that swung back and forth as she looked between the two light-blue ponies, a look of studious interest crossing her features. Casually, Airheart trotted over to the only human in the room, sitting back on her haunches. "Hey, Taylor. Long time, no see!" she said cheerily, as if oblivious to the staring contest between myself and the other Rainbow Dash. Taylor looked down at the pink mare. "Chloe?" she snickered. "Wow, you too, huh? I told you that pony stuff was trouble." "Just call me Airheart. Markus doesn't really like my name," she replied, looking at the two gaping ponies. "How long have they been like that?" "'Bout five minutes, now." Taylor looked over at me. "So the other pony is Markus, huh? Why does he not like your name?" "Shipping reasons," I said, breaking eye contact with the other 'me' in the room. "Trust me, it would be awkward." The shock from meeting my wingless G3 clone hadn't passed fully, but Dash had given me enough of a mental kick to snap me out of it. That kinda hurt by the way… 'Meh, you deserve it for being a slack-jawed egghead.' "So…" I began, looking back to the other Rainbow Dash. What I saw made part of me cringe. "Seriously, I can't get over the fact that she looks like me… er, Rainbow Dash… with a styled mane and no wings. Who are you, anyway?" The wingless Rainbow Dash harrumphed. "Darling, you got the better half of the cake," she said with a sort of country-poshness accent. "What I wouldn't do for such absolutely extravagant plumage like yours!" Suddenly, the earth pony had all but disappeared from the elevated platform. Something brushed against my feathers, causing me to jump. "Gah! What the…?! How did you…?! What?!" While my pegasus brain was in full-on awkward-mode at somepony touching my sensitive appendages, my human mind was reeling at the speed of the other pony. "Oh don't look so surprised, darling. I was the premier earth pony racer back in Fillydelphia," she clarified, still examining my body, which was becoming very uncomfortable. "Oh, but where are my manners! I'm Gloria, Taylor's assistant and her model for all the pony-shaped clothing you see here." Gloria continued to stare at me, and it must have shown on my face, if the heat in my cheeks was any indication. "You don't have to appear so flustered, my dear Rainbow Dash. I'm simply taking your measurements!" "Um… okay…" I tried to stay still as Gloria eyed me. Across the room, Taylor and Airheart were snickering their heads off. Abruptly, within the confines of my subconscious, there was a light… fluttering, as if part of me was enjoying this. Dash, are you serious?! 'What? You gotta admit she's kinda hot.' This threw my entire thought process– and balance –for a loop, and I pitched forward onto my face. "Er… darling? Are you alright?" "Yeah, I'm fine. I like face-planting. It's fun," I said with the utmost deadpan. Airheart and Taylor had no regrets apparently, and were laughing their respective posteriors off. "If only a certain pegasus in my head could learn to keep her personal thoughts to herself." Dash, we are in the middle of an existential crisis, Discord is on the loose, there are people that want to KILL us, and all you can think about is the flanks of the first decent-looking mare you come across?! 'So you agree that she's hot?' Throwing a spear of frustration at Dash hard enough to knock her thoughts back into dormancy, I got to my hooves and shook out my mane. Gloria smiled at me. "I was finished anyway," she reported, then turned to Taylor. "Taylor darling, you will be glad to know that you cut the slits for pegasus wings just right." The seamstress wiped her brow, somewhat comically. "Good. I had to guess on that." My inner ordeal settled, I decided to take a closer look at the disorganized racks of pony clothing. Neither Rainbow Dash nor myself was ever concerned about fashion, but it couldn't hurt to take a look. Sweatshirts, a few dresses, heavy coats… nothing I would need or– wait, what's that? You don't have to know what you're looking for to find what you want. My eye fell across a coat hanger loaded with hooded sweaters and collared jackets. One in particular caught my attention. On the top of the pile was an olive green, military-aviator style jacket, with two slits in the back to accommodate a pegasus' wings. A tear sprang to my eye as I was reminded of a similar jacket I had worn as a human. It's beautiful… ~+~+~+~ Rainbow Dash huffed in frustration. Of course, she didn't actually make a noise in reality, as being a mental construct in another's mind didn't allow her the privilege. But she still felt the rush of air from her nostrils, even if it was hallucinated. She was set on her goal, speeding through the ever-changing realm of Markus' mind, every imaginary flap of her wings propelling her deeper into the chaos. While Rainbow Dash still felt and sensed everything Markus did, she was persistent in her seeking, trying not to let reality or the trial of maintaining her own individuality skew her focus. Her quest was one that evaded her from the very beginning. Why did Discord call Markus the Chronicler of Chaos? I mean, sure he was the first pony besides Princess Luna and Princess Celestia, and I'm the Element of Loyalty, but why him? What makes him so special? One night, while Markus was sleeping dreamlessly, she made use of the writer's thoughts to figure out how to discover Discord's plan for him. In a moment of brilliance, she realized that the draconequues must have left some kind if influence in Markus' mind, similar to the one used to corrupt the Elements of Harmony, but much more harmless. Which, unfortunately, made it very hard to locate. Something flickered in the corner of Dash's proverbial eye. What the…? Taking immediate interest, she turned toward the point of golden light, which persisted far longer than anything else in the mindscape. Deeper into Markus' mind than she had ever dared venture before, Rainbow Dash began to wonder what she might find. What she didn't expect was a royal blue pegasus stallion, his golden eyes emitting the glow she saw. "You want to know why Discord chose Markus." It was a statement, not a question, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Rainbow Dash looked at the stallion with confusion, eyeing his quill and moon cutie mark. "Who the hay are you?" "Markus calls me Skyblaze, the name of his OC. I am the embodiment of creativity. The one that whispers in his ear," the pegasus, Skyblaze, introduced himself. "The only answer I can give you is that everything Discord does doesn't have to make sense. Or maybe the reason he chose Markus is that Discord likes him. They both appreciate chaos, and have more in common than either would care to admit." Dash nodded, understanding. An upside of the merge between her and Markus, she had found, was the writer's vocabulary was at her command. "I guess that makes sense…" "Just remember, Rainbow Dash," Skyblaze concluded. "When it matters most, a united mind is better than one divided." ~+~+~+~ Hours ago, an airfield in Ukraine… Silas Nemitas was a fearsome figure. Granted, standing at five-foot-eleven, many of his underlings (or enemies, given certain situations) could tower over him. Height, however, was an insignificant factor in his eye; Joseph Stalin and Napoleon being prime examples. No, Silas was not tall, but he still held a threatening appearance. He owed most of his satanic appearance to his monstrous albino father. Most took one look at Silas' pale face and deadly crimson eyes and walked the other way. A long overcoat of black wool was often draped over his broad shoulders. He walked in long, powerful strides, almost as if he were a one-man army. Especially now, with a scowl on his face and a black metal briefcase, he looked as if he were trying to intimidate Death himself. He strode quickly down the runway, heading for his small single-engine Piper Cub, painted black and red. With the hand that wasn't holding the briefcase, he pulled out his smart phone and pressed a number on speed-dial. The other end of the call rang twice before the phone was picked up. "Thank you for calling Primatech Paper," a cheery American female voice greeted, sounding almost too happy to work for a paper company. "How can we help you today?" Silas ignored the greeting. "I will be arriving at the Illinois location in a few hours. I expect the landing strip to be cleared for my arrival," he said bluntly. "I also expect there to be a helicopter. Fully stocked and competently manned." "Of course, Mr. Silence." The woman on the other end had dropped the false cheer, and now spoke with a cold seriousness. "Will there be anything else you need done?" "Yes…" Silas entered the Cub, preparing the plane for takeoff. "Upon arrival, I would very much like a hot cup of herbal tea. Unsweetened. And a steak would be lovely. Medium rare." He could tell the woman had to resist sighing. "If course, sir. It will be done."