Act I:
"Origins"
Chapter Three:
"Metamorphosis"
It hadn't taken long for Pip's confidence in his well being to take a nose dive.
What at first was a mild burning sensation around the area of the bite had quickly blossomed all over his body, and he had quickly staggered home.
He felt as if the world was spinning. He blinked, desperately trying to clear his field of vision, but everything remained strangely blurry. He curled up on the bed, closing his eyes tightly and rubbing his temple. He felt like his head was in some sort of torture machine, slowly and steadily crushing it while inserting a pair of screwdrivers between his eyes.
“Help,” Pip groaned weakly, pawing at his comforter in a vain attempt to pull it over his body. His whole body felt as if it had been dunked in a bucket of liquid nitrogen, thrown into a freezer for a few weeks, and then dragged through a bucket of bowling balls, rocks and broken glass. And that was just the outside. On the inside, he felt as if his internal organs were tied to some sort of taffy machine, pulling and yanking and stretching them over and over again.
He had to get out of bed. If he stayed there, he’d soon be rendered immobile, his muscles atrophying away and his skin getting horrific bed sores and then fleas and ticks an--
It was possible that his thoughts were wandering a bit. He shook his head as best he could, clearing away the (most likely unfounded) thoughts of doom and instead focusing on getting out of bed. He shifted his weight with a groan, but his legs refused to move. He tried again, this time managing to disrupt his center of gravity enough to send him rolling off the bed like an elephant seal into the ocean.
He landed with a rather underwhelming thump, hitting the carpeted floor and rolling onto his back. He waited for a moment, hoping against hope that someone heard the thump and come rushing upstairs. His blinks came slower and slower, as exhaustion slowly started to creep through his body. It felt now as if he had somehow managed to drink six gallons of alcohol and was now dumping himself into a scaldingly hot tub. He let out a moan, his sweat starting to lather up on his body as he rolled to his side. That must have done something to him, as he felt an explosion of pain shoot up from his wrists, causing him to let out a cry of pain. His hooves, which now felt numb, darted towards his wrists, clutching them tightly as he weakly rocked on the floor, seized up in what felt like some sort of seaizer. He wasn’t conscious for that long, however, as within a few seconds, he passed out, his body deflating like a punctured balloon.
///////////////////////////////
Dr. Cheerilee limped along rather introspectively, the sound of her plastic prosthetic hollowly clopping on the ground with her normal hooves, towards the brownstone she called home. There were still a dozen and a half signs of the repair workers having recently been by the area, either by buckets of half-solidified concrete or the stacks of bright orange traffic cones that stood about idly, surrounded by strips of bright yellow warning tape. She looked up, observing the scaffolding that was still in place on the various buildings surrounding her own. It had been almost a year since the Flutterhulk episode, and her neighborhood was still a very long way from being back to the way it once was.
She was still somewhat glad she still had a place to call home, since, unlike many of her neighbors on the block, her home had been lucky enough to only have the top most floor destroyed and not the whole building. Of course, that top-most floor was her home laboratory, and contained dozens, if not hundreds of irreplaceable experiments and research.
Cheerilee let out a sigh, reaching into her lab coat pocket and finishing out the keys to her front door. She turned the key, the sound of locks tumbling reaching her ears, and tried to open the door, only to have it jam with less than a quarter inch of space.
Stupid door, she grumbled, giving the door a sharp slam as she pushed herself into it, causing it to pop open rather sharply. She stumbled forwards slightly, her plastic hoof scuffing on the floor sharply before she came to a halt. Once she regained her balance, she stomped the concrete dust from outside off her remaining hooves on the welcome mat, stepping inside.
She then closed the door as she entered, letting her briefcase slide off her back and onto a nearby chair. She moved into the kitchen, spotting the message light on her answering machine blinking. She let out a sigh. I’ll check them later, she thought, turning back to the living room and slouching down onto the loveseat as she let her sore legs rest.
Just as she’d expected, the formula wasn’t going well at all. After Mr. Rich’s announcement, she’d moved to the lab, nose to the grindstone in an attempt to hopefully make a breakthrough of some kind. Several chemical modifications and several dozen dead lab rats later, they’d reached an impasse. She let out a grumbling sigh, rubbing her hoof across her face. At least she was home now. Someplace quiet and private, where she could hopefully take a break, have some dinner, and clear her mind before turning back to the Rubik's cube that was the formula.
The sound of the phone ringing again greeted her ears, and she peered towards the phone with lowered eyebrows. The ringing continued for a few more seconds, before being cut off by a beep.
“Hello! You’ve reached the home/laboratory of Dr. Cheerilee! If you have a message, leave it after the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible! Thanks!” her answering machine chimed, before another beep.
“Hey, Cheerilee. It’s me, Berry Punch. I’m about to drop off Ruby, an--”
Cheerilee’s eyes widened, her gaze darting towards the calendar, where, in bright red ink, were the words ‘Ruby coming to stay’ on today’s date. She let out a long series of expletives as she stood up from the chair, galloping over to the phone as best she could to pick it up before Berry hung up.
“Yes, Berry! I’m here,” she said, coming to a stop and leaning against the wall slightly. "Sorry, I didn't hear the phone at first," she apologized quickly. Berry could be heard laughing slightly on the other end.
“No problem, cos, you’re a busy mare," she replied, the sound of a car horn blaring over the phone, followed by Berry's rather coarse response. Cheerilee imagined the mare was most likely stuck in the notoriously difficult Manehattan traffic.
“Are you-uh, are you in traffic?” Cheerilee asked, glancing around her house to realize it wasn’t exactly up to her normal standards of upkeep. For one thing, the dishes were piling up something fierce, and the kitchen floor needed mopping. Can’t have guests if the house is such a dump, she thought, nibbling her lip.
“Oh no I’m not in traffic--ground traffic that is. We’re on one of those air taxis the pegasi run. You know, the blue ones that cost like, a billion bits? I was just shouting at some jerk who wasn’t paying attention. Nearly thwacked us.”
“Oh dear,” Cheerilee answered absent mindedly, leaning her head to the side to keep the phone on her shoulder while she tried to stretch her way across the kitchen to at least try to wipe the counter down with her good foreleg, causing her to wobble precariously. “Why did you take those? I mean, aren’t they expensive?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t want to get stuck in the ground traffic, since I have to be in Gravity Falls by the day after tomorrow. Business and all. You still live on Maple Street right? By where that big monster was?"
Cheerilee glanced upwards at the ceiling, which still showed signs of damage from the unwanted guest from a year or so ago. “Uh… yeah… yeah, I do. But Berry, the house is a mess, I mean, I’ve been really horribly--”
“No worries, cos. I don’t judge. Celestia knows that my house is usually a mess…" she trailed off, apparently distracted by something. “Ah! I see your place. Wow, that green freak really did a number on it, didn’t she?”
Cheerilee glanced at the ceiling again. “Yeah...you betcha.”
“Well, we’re coming in for a landing,” came Berry’s response, before her voice seemed to move away from the phone. “Hey Ruby, make sure you’ve got your stuff…”
Cheerilee’s eyes darted towards the kitchen window, catching sight of the blue pegasus driven cart landing outside. She bit her lip slightly.
“So, I’m gonna hang up and talk to you once I get inside, ‘kay cous?" Berry said, catching Cheerilee’s attention again. Cheerilee nodded slightly.
“Yeah, okay…” she was greeted by the click of the phone hanging up on the other end, and she moved to put her own phone back, quickly turning and heading towards the door. She opened it, grumbling slightly as it once again got stuck on its hinges. With a sharp pull, the door popped open with an over-dramatic creak. By the time she stepped out onto the front steps, the air taxi was already in the air, and Berry waved towards her, seemingly completely okay with the steamer-trunk sized suitcase she had on her back.
“Do you need help with that?” she quickly asked, galloping over to help Berry with the bags. Berry shrugged.
“No, no, I can handle it.” Berry replied rather dismissively, as if the steamer trunk were just a box of chocolates. Behind her, peeking out shyly, was a rather short filly who shared Berry’s reddish purple color-scheme.
“Well, if you say so…” Cheerilee answered, already looking down, giving the filly a kind smile.
“Why, hello there Ruby. How are you doing?” she asked, and the filly shied back slightly. Berry simply rolled her eyes slightly, giving Ruby a slight nudge.
“Come on now, Ruby, it’s just Auntie Cheerilee. You can relax.”
Ruby glanced up at Berry tentatively, before giving Cheerilee a barely noticeable nod. “Hello, Auntie Cheerilee… I-I’m do-doing okay.”
Cheerilee gave Ruby a supportive smile. “That’s great Ruby! You know you’ll be staying here while your mother’s out of town, right?”
Ruby nodded mutely, once more retreating behind her mother. Cheerilee, seeing that further conversation would likely just make Ruby feel all the more awkward, focused her attention on Berry, motioning for the pair to follow her.
“I know the place still looks rather decrepit, but I suppose I’m still one of the lucky ones…” she said, motioning towards the large gaps between scaffold covered buildings. Berry looked around, sliding her sunglasses down her muzzle slightly.
“I’ll say. I’m still shocked your place managed so well… all things considered.”
Cheerilee simply nodded, fighting the door open and giving Berry first entrance. The trio stepped inside, Ruby staying as close to Berry as was physically possible, as Cheerilee closed the door behind them. As soon as the door was closed, Berry set the large steamer trunk down on the floor with a loud thump.
“Oh, look Ruby! Auntie Cheerilee has a TV. How abouts you go and watch something while I bring Auntie up to speed?” Berry said, motioning towards Cheerilee’s rather humble looking television. Ruby nodded mutely, quietly trotting towards the television and taking a seat in front of it, flicking it on and turning to some random channel.
Once Ruby was visibly distracted, Berry’s upbeat expression lowered somewhat, and she beckoned for Cheerilee to walk over towards a hallway. Cheerilee followed, standing next to her cousin in the hallway.
“Well,” Berry started, letting out a slight sigh. “Sorry to have to leave her here, but you know how my job is.”
“Yeah. Hill over dale and all,” Cheerilee answered. Berry simply nodded. Cheerilee glanced towards Ruby for a moment. “She doing well? Like... with the…” she trailed off, giving Berry a questioning look. Berry nodded.
“With her sickness? Oh yes, she’s doing great. I found a medication that really works for her. Nice, no real side-effects.”
“Um, what kind of side effects?” Cheerilee asked, her curiosity piqued. “I mean, I am a biochemist. Maybe once I get some more funding I can help-”
“Nah, it’s fine,” Berry said quickly, waving her hoof to silence Cheerilee. “No need to really get you working anymore then you probably are already,” she rubbed her nose slightly out of reflex. “If you don’t mind me asking, how goes your work?”
Cheerilee shrugged. “Oh... it’s just the usual stuff Filth-I mean, Mr. Rich makes me work on. I signed a confidentiality agreement though, so that’s all I can really tell you.”
There was an awkward pause between the two, the only sound being the television running in the background. Cheerilee shifted her jaw slightly. “Do you know how long you’ll be gone?”
“About a week, give or take a few days. They have some nice real estate up there they want me to see, to check its value and such. Should be a real slice and dice operation.”
“Certainly sounds better than being stuck in a lab with a control freak breathing down your neck all the time,” Cheerilee muttered, at which Berry gave a small chuckle.
“Believe me, it’s nowhere near as fun as you think it is.” There was a pause before Berry frowned. “Hey, is something wrong?”
“N-no, I’m fine.” Cheerilee replied, but Berry did not seem convinced.
“You’re not mad at me, are you? I know I kind of warned you last minute about all this-”
“No, it’s not that,” Cheerilee shook her head. “I’m... I’m just stressed, that’s all. Things have just been piling up on me over the last few days.”
“Oh.” There was another pause before Berry spoke. “You know you can always call me if things get really bad.”
“Yeah, I know.” Cheerilee gave a limp nod as Berry pulled out a small bottle.
“I’ve got to get going soon, so we’ll have to continue this when I get back,” Berry said before passing the bottle to Cheerilee. “Here’s Ruby’s meds. Make sure she takes two before bed every night. I even packed a few extra, just in case.”
“Thanks.” Cheerilee inspected the bottle for a moment before looking back up at Berry. “Mind telling me what this is? It doesn’t have a proper label.”
Berry shifted her weight, visibly evasive. She bit her lip slightly.
“Just so I’m on the same page as you and Ruby… in case something happens.” Cheerilee added apologetically.
“Well, it’s from a flower. Her doctor recommended it. Made from verbena he said.”
“Verbena?” Cheerilee furrowed her brow slightly. “Really?”
Berry gave an exaggerated shrug, beginning to move out of the hallway. “That’s what he said. I’m no doctor, that’s for sure.” She let out a laugh, but Cheerilee could sense it was rather stiff. She quickly moved towards Ruby, leaning over and whispering something in her ear, and giving her a gentle motherly kiss before moving towards the door. Cheerilee hesitated, glancing down at the bottle in her hoof, before quietly putting it in her pocket.
“Um, good luck, Berry,” she called out, and Berry smiled, hand already on the doorknob.
“Sure thing. Stay safe you two. Ruby, listen to Auntie, okay?”
“Yes mother,” Ruby answered quietly, giving her mother a sad wave goodbye. Berry blew her a kiss, before opening the door and stepping out, leaving Cheerilee and Ruby alone.
///////////////////////////////
Pip’s eyes shot open, the bright sunlight hitting him square in the retinas. He blinked a few times, smacking his lips as he felt the world around him quickly filtering into his brain through his eyes and ears. Unlike most mornings however, the information organized itself rather quickly, with all assorted sights, smells and sounds clicking into place and neatly organizing themselves in only a few seconds. Usually, that process took what felt like eons, with Pip having to force himself out of bed and shuffle along like some sort of half-rotted zombie.
Now? Now everything was seemingly enhanced and clear, and he felt as if he’d just been injected with a syringe full of energy. He looked around the room, his eyebrows lowering at how his vision was still strangely fuzzy and blurred.
Wha…. he moved his hand towards his face, his hoof wrapping around the frames of his glasses. I must have forgotten to take ‘em off… he thought, pulling the glasses from his face and blinking as his eyes adjusted. The first thing that came to his mind was how everything now seemed ten times clearer, with the room around him leaping into sharp focus. He looked down at his glasses, cocking an eyebrow and inspecting them. The lenses seemed as clean as possible given the fact that he’d slept with them on, and he gave them a quick wipe down to clear away some dust that had managed to cling to them.
He then moved them back to his face, peering through them. Everything went fuzzy again.
How did that ‘appen? He thought, giving his glasses a suspicious look before setting them on the nightstand and looking around the room. For as long as he could remember, he’d needed glasses like a fish needed water. Now it seemed they only seemed to make his vision worse. He rubbed the back of his neck in thought, sitting up in bed. He let out a perplexed huff, taking the hoof that had been bitten and inspecting it.
Asides from a barely visible bite mark, it seemed as if the swelling had decreased significantly, and the previous burning sensation was now gone.
As he continued to ponder his next move, he left his room, walking along the hallway and into the bathroom, going through the steps of his morning routine on autopilot. Like, maybe this is only short term? I mean, I’m not dead right? That’s a good sign. Anyways, can’t exactly report this if I don’t know what kind of spider bit me.
Still deep in thought, he absentmindedly reached for one of the knobs on the sink. It just so happened to be the one that always jammed. He let out a grunt, rolling his eyes and looking down at the handle. He gave it another tug, this time with some more muscle put into it. There was a sharp crack and an explosion of freezing cold water spewed up into his face. Pip let out a yelp, his hooves flying to grab one of the towels hanging from the shower curtain. That lead to him losing his balance and spiraling into a flurry of wild movements, which somehow ended with him spun around, balancing on the side of the tub, towel in hoof and shower curtain rod balancing on one of his hind legs.
Okay… that happened… he thought, looking around warily, only to be greeted by the sink water spraying in his face again. Oh yeah, sink.
He climbed down from the tub rim, making sure to put the curtain rod down carefully, before crawling under the sink. Using considerably more care than before, he turned the water off and then took a step back. Nothing seemed primed to explode, so he grabbed another towel and did his best to dry the floor.
After going back to his room to pack his backpack, Pip started towards the stairs, coming to a halt when his nose caught a scent that was usually one that was very unappreciated on any morning.
Wheat cakes. Pip cringed involuntarily. Pip always wondered what possessed Aunt Mayflower to craft those disc shaped abominations. They were like eating wet crackers, all grain but no flavor. He wanted to eat something grainy, he’d eat pretzels. With the dreaded wheat cakes on his mind, Pip hopped on the banister, sliding down and landing smoothly. He started to stalk towards the door, moving as quietly as his hooves would allow.
“Oh Pip!” Came Mayflower’s voice, causing Pip to halt mid step, whipping his head around to face her. “I made your favorite- wheat cakes!” Mayflower beamed, motioning towards a plate full of them sitting on the table. Across from a rather crestfallen Uncle Copper, who had obviously been caught in the web of wheat as well. Pip gave Copper a sympathetic glance, which the older stallion returned before raising an eyebrow.
“You look like you’re feeling better,” he said, beckoning for Pip to sit down. “I take it you slept off wha’ever bug you got?”
“Bug?” Pip arched an eyebrow slightly.
Mayflower nodded. “Oh yes, don’t you remember? You came home the day before yesterday sick as a dog. Went straight up to your room. Missed your birthday party and everything.” As she spoke, she flopped down several wheat cakes onto Pip’s plate. “Now, eat up. Celestia knows you need the energy.”
Pip stammered slightly. “Oh, well, uh-I’m feelin’ much better Auntie. Really I am,” he nudged his plate away as much as he could without her noticing and glanced up at the clock. “In fact, I’d better be ‘eadin’ off to school. I missed a day after all, an’ I gots Featherweight’s ‘omework I promised to help him with so…” he slid up out of the chair, already heading towards the staircase. “I’ll just be fetchin’ me backpack and be on my way. No worries.” He gave her a big smile and a quick peck on the cheek before spinning on his heels and striding out the door, only to trip on the door frame and go sprawling. However, he was somehow able to twist his body around mid-fall, and just ended up rolling along the ground and ending up back on his hooves.
Both Mayflower and Copper gave him surprised expressions, which he replied with a self-conscious smile. “Uh… post-sickness reflexes?” he muttered, before waving goodbye awkwardly and scampering away.
Back in the kitchen, Mayflower’s expression was quizzical. “What do you suppose that was all about pumpkin?” she asked, giving Copper a quizzical look. Copper merely shrugged, sliding his chair back and standing up.
“Beats me, honey bun,” he replied, stretching in an intentionally over the top manner. “But I’d better be heading to work too, the bo--”
“Oh no you don’t,” Mayflower chided, gently nudging Copper back into his seat. “You’re not going to be skipping breakfast that easily. Now, eat up, you look a little thin.” She emphasized her words by dropping a few wheat cakes onto his plate, which clattered in an acrimonious manner. Copper let out the slightest of whimpers, looking down at the clay-like discs of cooked wheat in horror.
///////////////////////////////
Featherweight looked around the classroom, tapping his foot impatiently. For the years he’d known Pipsqueak, the pinto colored pony had only missed school twice. One time had been when he’d managed to catch a particularly nasty strain of flu, and was on sick leave, and the other was when his parents had died.
Come on, where are you? he grumbled, now starting to tap his pencil rapidly on the desk as he glared down at the quiz in front of him. Of course. One day you don’t come to school, and it’s got to be the day my homework is due. Perf-
“Mr. Rich, is there something you need help with?” Came a deep, smokey, commanding voice from a few feet away. Featherweight looked towards the source of the voice, finding his teacher, Mrs. Barometer, peering down at him with raised eyebrows. Featherweight gave her a thin, brittle smile.
“Uhh-aahh-” He stammered, moving to lean on his wrist awkwardly, rubbing his hoof in his mane. Mrs. Barometer’s gaze only grew more critical.
“I asked you a question, Mr. Rich,” she peered down at his quiz sheet, which was by now covered in a hopeless collage of doodles, random words and smeared graphite. Her eyes narrowed. “Never mind. I’ve seen enough.” her tone so savagely bitter that it felt as if she had just left behind a large, intimidating ‘F’ branded onto his forehead.
“You and I will trade words after class. Is that understood?”
“Bu-I-err-”
“No buts. Failure is not an option in my class. Now, I suggest you get back to work and study properly.” With that, she turned around, striding away in a manner more akin to some sort of movie vampire then an actual, living breathing pony. Featherweight let out a grumble, letting his head smack down onto his desk.
I’m screwed.
///////////////////////////////
Pipsqueak worriedly looked around the gaggle of students who were now heading to their lockers to prepare for the next class. Featherweight was nowhere to be seen, and a quick glance at his watch showed that Pip had managed to miss the first class of the day, Mrs. Barometer’s. Which, knowing Mrs. Barometer, was probably more positive than negative…
‘Cept for Feather… he’s probably getting chewed out for my mistake. Pip thought, shoulders sagging slightly as he opened his locker. He let out a small groan when his hoof stuck to the combination lock. Did somepony find it amusing to put glue on it… again? He tugged at the lock in frustration, only to have it stubbornly cling to his hoof. He gritted his teeth, tugging on the lock with more force.
Come… on… you.. silly… thing… get… loo-- His train of thought derailed as he gave the lock a tremendous tug, the sharp cracking sound filling the air for a fraction of a second before he felt himself tumbling backwards into the nest of fellow students. The feeling of something buzzing in the back of his head caught his attention, and he spun and stumbled about, somehow narrowly avoiding collisions with the passing ponies, and ending up standing on the opposite end of the hallway, lock still in hoof, the locker door hanging onto it stubbornly.
“Wha…?” he blinked awkwardly at the lock in his hoof, before flicking his wrist slightly, causing it to finally detach and plop to the floor with a clack. He looked around, wondering if anyone had noticed the fact that he’d just tore the door off of his locker. He discreetly walked back to his locker, the door awkwardly clacking on the floor as he did so, and he gave the student next to him a sheepish grin.
“Uh… guess I don’t know my own strength,” he said, only to be greeted by the other student blinking at him with wide eyes before they closed their locker and walked away, muttering something about Pip being a ‘weirdo’.
Pip let out a huff, looking over his locker to see if there was some way he could reattach the door.
“There you are!” barked a voice, causing Pip to jolt and spin around. He found Featherweight standing in front of him, arms crossed and eyes glaring at him from under his mane. “What the heck kept you, Pip?!” Feather barked, not even giving Pip a chance to properly form a response.
“Well?” Feather pressed, now tapping his hoof aggressively. “I got into trouble with Miss Barometer because of you being late! She gave me a lecture and everything! Why were you late?”
“I’m sorry, Feather, I really am. But I missed the bus and had to take the tube, ‘kay?” Pip responded apologetically, reaching into his backpack and rummaging around for a second before pulling out Featherweight’s homework. “Look, here it is. Again, sorry, but I got sick yesterday--”
“What do you mean, ‘got sick’?” Feather asked, his anger fading slightly as he took the homework from Pip, stuffing it into his own backpack. Pip let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Well…” he looked around. He wasn’t quite sure if he should let Featherweight in on everything that had happened over the past forty-eight hours… but then again, his antics had managed to get Featherweight into trouble for something that was obstinately his own fault.
“Well what?” Feather pressed, leaning forwards slightly with a raised eyebrow. He seemed less angry now, and generally more concerned. Pip rubbed his neck again, flexing the hoof that had been bitten involuntarily.
“Okay… remember yesterday’s field trip to your dad’s place?” Pip began, shifting his weight on his hooves slightly while continuing to look around awkwardly.
Featherweight simply nodded, seemingly pressing Pip to continue.
“Well, do you remem’er those spiders an’ stuff? I think one managed to escape an’…”
“You got bitten by one of my dad’s spiders?! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THAT?! Something could be going horrifically wrong! What if this is just the first step of some horrific Ponyberg-ish transformation or something? Like, next thing you know, you’ve got hair sprouting from your kneecaps and you’re vomiting acid and your skin’s flaking off and then--”
Pip stammered, spooked by the sudden physical contact and shaking he was now undergoing. “Don’t get your tail in a knot, Feather, I’m fine, see?” he held up the hoof that had been bitten, only for Feather to grab it and give it a close inspection. “All I got was a bit of a swell and that was it. Slept it off, and now I’m fine, I swear.”
“You sure? You’re not gonna sprout extra arms or anything?” Featherweight asked, and Pip shook his head.
“Uh, no, I don’t think I will…” he gently yanked his hand out of Featherweight’s grip. “But apparently I can open my locker without my lock now,” he added with a slight chuckle, motioning towards the broken door that was now stuffed sideways into his locker.
Featherweight’s eyes widened slightly. “You did that?”
Pip merely nodded and scratched the back of his neck. “Weird thing is that it just kinda stuck to my hand. Like somepony put glue on it or somethin’--”
“Hold on, hold on,” Featherweight interrupted, holding up a finger. “So basically, what you said is that you got your hand stuck on the door of your locker, and you managed to rip it off? You? Pipsqueak Trottingshire? Skinniest colt in school?”
“Look buddy, if it makes you feel better, I had a nurse check it as soon as we got back. She didn’t see anything wrong. So no need to get worked up, right? I’m sure everything will be fine.” Pip gave Feather his best confident smile, even though deep down, he was terrified. Now that Feather had mentioned it, he really did have no clue what was happening to him. Maybe Featherweight was right, maybe it would turn him into some unholy abomination or something. Of course, he knew that if he flew into a panic, he’d just make things worse.
Featherweight meanwhile, just frowned.
“Yeah, I probably should have called you to say I was sick. Hindsight is twenty-twenty after all…” Pip added, trying his best to smooth over the obvious wrinkle in their friendship that had just developed.
Featherweight just let out a grumble. “Whatever, man. Let’s just get back to class before the bell. Last thing I need is be late for another class okay?” He then turned and walked away, leaving Pip to stand alone by his damaged locker.
Really screwed up that one, huh Pip? Pip thought, sighing and plopped his bag inside his locker. It seemed his hooves weren’t randomly sticking to things, which was good, since the last thing he needed was to accidentally destroy his backpack by tearing it open or something. Feather's probably going to be a funk all day then now. Guess it’s justified though. He was depending on me for that quiz. He sighed. At least there's nothing else-
“Hey Pip!” Pip turned to the sound of the voice and was greeted by the sight of Dinky walking up to him, a surprised look on her face.
Pip’s eyes widened slightly. The date! You forgot the date!
“Oh, ‘ello Dinky,” he said, blushing slightly and waving awkwardly. She was probably furious.
“What happened to you, Pip? Why did you miss our date?” Dinky asked, tilting her head slightly. “I waited and waited but you didn’t come.”
“Uh... food poisoning.” Pip replied, causing Dinky to raise an eyebrow. “Yeah, I ate something a few days ago and got pretty sick,” he continued, trying his best to look as honest as possible. Sure it was a bold faced lie, but at least it was a better excuse than ‘bitten by mutated spider’. “I was stuck in bed all day,” he added, looking down at the ground.
There was a lingering silence as Dinky’s expression grew sympathetic. “Oh really? That’s awful. I’m so sorry. You’re feeling better now, though, right?”
“Oh, sure, most definitely.” Pip replied, and another awkward pause formed between them. “If it’s, um, okay with you though, I’d really like to make it up to you somehow. Maybe we can try again?”
Dinky bit her lip. “Well,” she said, dragging out the last syllable a bit “I have a pretty busy weekend… maybe we can try again next Sunday?”
“Oh sure!” Pip said, a little too loudly. “Great. That’s… that’s great.” He smiled awkwardly. Dinky smiled back. The two ended up just looking into each other’s eyes, both obviously trying to say something. Fortunately, the silence was broken by the sound of the school bell alerting them to be ready for the next class.
Pip was first to speak, with a large blush covering his face. “Well! Hate to run, but I’ve got to get to class!”
Dinky nodded rapidly, a blush matching Pip’s on her face. “Ya so… I’ll see ya later!”
Both turned and fled to their respective classes.
///////////////////////////////
Pip walked along next to the traffic packed street, lost in thought. Today had been a weird day. Sometimes, the world around him would feel like it was going in slow-motion, with everything exploding into perfect focus. At other times, everything would seem to explode in an overload of noise and vibrations. His hooves had also kept randomly sticking to things, and one time he’d notice a strand of what looked like silk connected to his wrists. It had taken several tries to break it, causing an awkward moment between him and the random student he’d managed to get tangled with.
The most confusing aspect of the day, however, had been the recurrent tingling at the back of his skull. It kept popping up, seemingly throwing him out of the driver’s seat and causing him to dodge or duck whatever had been thrown at him. It had been most helpful during a particularly intense game of dodgeball during gym class, much to the frustration of the opposite team.
Maybe it’s some sort of precognitive thing, he pondered.
That wasn't all that was bothering him. Now that he wasn't distracted by the feeling of his internal organs waltzing themselves to death, he was free to panic over more down to earth, less life threatening matters: his date with Dinky.
He had already missed his first chance to hang out with her, so whatever he did the second time would have to be really special.
I’ll have to ask Uncle Copper for some cash. Where should we go? Paso Fino food is nice… wait she might not like that… probably should just straight up ask her what kind of food she likes…
That’s when he felt it. The buzzing sensation that kept bugging him was back, only this time it was far louder, more intense. Whatever it was warning him about, he needed to get out of its way, now.
Now!
Pip jumped away with all his strength. Looking back, he was watched a car pass right where he had been standing. His shock only grew as the street continued to recede from view.
Flailing his legs, he managed to grab a hold of a nearby wall, barely avoiding tumbling down to the street below. He looked down, his eyes growing to the size of dinner plates. He was almost five stories above the ground, sticking to the wall like glue. He froze in place, not wanting to jeopardize himself any further. The last thing he needed was to fly into a wild panic and end up falling at least sixty feet to the street below.
I’m… sticking to the wall.
I’m actually sticking to the wall.
I’m sticking to a vertical wall after jumping five stories straight into the air.
His eyes widened again… I have super powers. His massive grin however, faded somewhat when he looked down at the ground again.
How do I get down?