Breakfast, I decided, would be had at the Whole Foods in the strip mall. It would be expensive, but I'd be paying for quality. Besides, I was going to be a small lavender horse in... "Hey, Magic Voice. What kind of timeframe am I looking at?"
About two or three days.
Right. I had less than three days where I'd be in a shape from which people would accept money. Under the circumstances, frugality took a backseat to pragmatism.
It was early enough that there were few other shoppers in the supermarket, but I still put in a Bluetooth headset. I planned on a running dialogue with Discord, and while the wireless transmitter made me look a little like a Borg drone, it still offered a hands-free means of feigning sanity. Um, I was still sane, of course, but they didn't know that.
As I grabbed a plate at the hot bar, I took advantage of my plausible deniability. "So, what's the deal with meat?"
Dead animal flesh. Some species eat it raw, others prefer to cook it first. I believe humans generally lean towards the latter. For all that the voice was bypassing my ears and going straight to my brain, I could still hear the amusement behind the demon's deadpan delivery.
I rolled my eyes and clarified. "What's the deal with meat and my digestive system?"
Oh, that. Well, I'd recommend going whole hog on the pork products while you still can, let's put it that way.
I nodded. "I see. I thought as much, but, well, chaos. Couldn't say for sure."
Now you're getting it!
"Your approval fills me with shame." I couldn't keep a smile off my face as I said that.
I've missed our little chats.
"What little chats? For what little time I existed in your presence, I just stared at you with thoughtless worship." In retrospect, I guess the Bluetooth didn't remove all suspicion regarding my sanity.
Oh, you're hardly the first such entity I've created, nor even the first to have your degree of autonomy. I like to think there's a degree of continuity between you and your sisters before you.
"Huh." I fitted a lid over my breakfast. Scrambled eggs, potatoes, and what I hoped was enough bacon and sausage to be a proper sendoff for my days of carnivory, with maple syrup lovingly drizzled over the entire plate.
What? Maple syrup goes with everything. That kid in To Kill a Mockingbird knew what he was doing.
I paid and moved outside. It was a lovely day; there was no sense in not enjoying it. And anything that made sense was starting to feel like a little rebellion.
So, what's your plan?
"Plan?" I asked between syrupy bites. "Chaos plans?"
Certainly. I got where I am today by way of a plan that took years to come to fruition.
I chewed this over with a sausage link. "Well, what did you have in mind?"
After your morning repast, I would recommend beginning your study of chaos magic. Attempting to use it without knowing what you're doing can be incredibly dangerous, and I don't want to have to conjure up a replacement for you.
"Hmm..." I moved magic study to the bottom of my to-do list. Anything that dear old Dad suggested was immediately suspicious in my mind. He probably knew I felt that way—
I do. You wound your poor old father, my child.
I rolled my eyes. "Well, what's the last thing you want me to do?"
Discorporate yourself while feeling the satisfaction of a job well done. Or did you mean what I least wanted you to do? I'm obviously not going to tell you that.
I shrugged as I moved one last chunk of potato about the plate, sopping up as much syrup as it would hold. "Eh, worth a try." I popped the morsel in my mouth, and a thought occurred. "Say, are there any ponies nearby?"
I can't say.
"Can't, not won't?"
Indeed. I had neither the time nor the inclination to keep watch over every single creature I banished to that quaint little world you're sitting on, only those who posed the biggest threat if they ever found a way to return. Twilight Sparkle and company, Princess Cadenza, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.
The names meant nothing to me. I needed to fix that. "And I take it none of them are nearby?"
Well, it all depends on the scale you have in mind. From a cosmological perspective, you're practically on top of them. From a subatomic one, you yourself span a truly mind-boggling distance, much less the length between you and the nearest banishee I know of.
I grumbled a bit as I took my tray to the trash cans. As I sorted my meal's detritus, I asked, "Do you just decide whether you're going to be helpful with a given question at random?"
In my mind, there was the distinct ringing of a coin being flicked into the air, then the meaty slap of currency against palm. Perhaps.
"Now you're just messing with me."
Perhaps. Have you decided on a course of action for the morning?
"Perhaps." I stifled a snicker.
Discord didn't. Ah, well played.
"Know thy enemy," it is said. With the most important meal of the day taken care of, I figured the best way I could spend my time would be doing just that. To the Internet!
The Friendship is Magic wiki was still lovingly tended, despite the half-decade since any new source material had come down the pipe. Finding which episodes featured Discord was a simple matter. Watching them was... less so.
Oh, don't get me wrong. Finding them was nearly effortless. I even watched the two-part series premiere to get a sense of the show. (I give it a solid seven out of ten. Not bad, would keep watching series, would not necessarily watch those episodes again.)
But even the brief clip of my earlier counterpart had inspired an alien sense of homesickness. Words cannot adequately express the emotional turmoil that came from watching both halves of "The Return of Harmony." Half of the overwhelming reaction was an emotional roller coaster inspired by the episode, hope soaring as the serpentine spirit of chaos seemed triumphant, only to crash upon the unforgiving rocks of despair as friendship and ponies snatched victory from the jaws of defeat and a baby dragon. The other half was metacognitive horror, me watching myself watch the show, terrified by my involuntary reactions.
So, yeah. Not fun. Informative, but not fun. I'd gone through a fair amount of tissues and existential trauma by the time Twilight Sparkle channeled Luke Skywalker.
"Keep Calm and Flutter On" wasn't quite so bad. Maybe because I knew what to expect, maybe because what I was expecting never came. I didn't feel any sense of sorrow or betrayal or outrage at Discord's apparent repentance. If anything, there was a warm tickle of amusement in my gut when he solemnly thawed out Sweet Apple Acres, as though someone had snuck an inside joke into the episode.
I wasn't expecting the pity, either. "You really did care for her, didn't you?"
Who, Fluttershy? Perhaps, in the sense that one cares for a pet. Not a particularly bright pet, mind you. Something like a goldfish. Possibly an axolotl. I certainly didn't actually think of her as a... eurgh, friend. Still, dignity is a small price to pay for world domination.
I gave a noncommittal grunt as I moved to the next episode. This one was from Season 4, "Zen and the Art of Draconequus Maintenance." If "Return" had been the hardest for me to watch emotionally, this was the most difficult narratively. Almost as soon as the episode began, I had to pause it, go back to the wiki, and figure out when Twilight had grown wings. Then I watched "Magical Mystery Cure," because the synopsis was just informative enough to make me want to see it for myself. Then I went back to the episode with my creator in it, and a few minutes in, had to pause it again and look up this "Zecora" character. That led to watching "Bridle Gossip." By the time I finished "Zen," I was nearly ponied out, and I had three episodes left to go.
Fun as this jaunt down Memory Lane is, I really cannot overemphasize the importance of understanding chaos magic before your powers begin returning in earnest.
I rubbed my eyes and straightened myself out of my slouch, pulling my chair closer to my laptop. Anything Discord didn't want me to do must be a step in the right direction.
Oh. Well then. Why don't you just watch the whole series?
"Transparent reverse psychology is transparent." Yes, it's an old meme, but it was appropriate.
Next was "Spa and Disorder." There are no words. If you've seen it, you know what I'm talking about. The hot tub. The mud baths. The cucumber slices. Good God, the cucumber slices. I'd heard of getting crap past the radar, but the script for this thing must have been written in a stealth bomber in the Augean stables. I must have paused it at least half a dozen times to collect myself. Not because of involuntary surges of emotion, it was just that funny. Best episode. Eleven out of ten.
After that were the Season 5 episodes. First came "Princess for a Day." Discord's attempts to run Equestria were... interesting, certainly. "This anything like your current style of rule?"
Oh, hardly. I was playing the role of the court jester who suddenly finds himself on the throne. I'm actually quite competent without the constant threat of weaponized friendship rainbows hanging over my head.
"I can see how that would put a damper on things."
Last but decidedly not least was the series finale. The wiki article for it was locked, and the history showed the scars of an edit war of massive proportions. Once again, my heart swelled as Discord executed his crushing masterstroke. At the end, the camera zoomed out over the entire nation, from sea to shining sea. The oceans themselves began to change color, like pools of liquid rainbow, or massive oil slicks. Discord flashed into existence at this heady altitude, turned to the camera, and bowed. "And that's how Equestria was unmade!"
Cue credits, complete with cheery end theme. My spine ached from the emotional whiplash. I let them play out. For almost a minute after the video went silent, I just sat there and thought.
"Well," I finally said. "That... was a thing."
Are you beginning to understand just how bad an idea it is to try to stand against me?
"It certainly doesn't make any sense." I grinned. "But then, what fun is there in making sense?"
I seem to recall someone embracing making sense as a form of rebellion against her creator only a few hours ago.
I rose, moving my bangs out of my eyes. "Consistency is for the unimaginative."
Are you just going to stand there and throw my words back at me?
I was running through my memory for a suitable retort-quotation when the other shoe dropped. "My hair shouldn't be this long." I rushed to my bathroom and stared in the mirror.
My hair was like the rest of me, average to the point of boredom. Straight, brown, yawn. Apparently, my scalp had grown tired of the same old same old. Now I had wavy, curling tresses flouncing down to my chin, colored the sullen red of a dying star with highlights of safety-cone orange. I leaned in closer. My eyes were the same helium-fusing burgundy as my hair.
Intellectually, I knew this was part of the transformation. Viscerally, AH! AHHHH! AHHHHHHHH!!!!
I was able to keep the screaming internal, though. For the most part. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
After a few deep breaths, I noticed one more change, a more subtle one that my Betelgeusy hair had overshadowed. At first, it looked like a sunburn, but a peek under my shirt confirmed that it was totally even over my whole body.
For whatever reason, my skin was turning hot pink.