//------------------------------// // Act 1 | A Trip in the Library // Story: To Cure Deception // by LegionPothIX //------------------------------// The door to Sugarcube Corner closed behind Lacus and with it what was certain to be a ten minute rant was locked away, safely out of earshot. A rant that was sure to end in either Cake or Pie breaking down into tears. A sigh of relief slipped past his lips as they carved a wicked smile into his face. He rhetorically wondered, What could be more satisfying than a job well done? Though he felt bad for sticking Mrs. Cake with Pinkie, he also knew it bought him some time to be himself; whomever that was. He stepped into the alleyway for a moment to think. He found it so strange that he couldn't remember the personal details of his life, but there were hints at deeper connections that were locked away by petals of blue. He began to question why this affliction was the outcome of his exposure, and if it worked that way for everypony. “Poison Joke huh…” he muttered to himself. The name implied that something about it was supposed to be funny. Perhaps some subtle irony he was failing to see. The more he thought about it the more his smile turned grim, until it faded entirely, and left only his fangs exposed. He just couldn't see the humor in being personally attacked to the extent of having his personality stripped away; by a plant none the less. He was left with almost nothing. He briefly entertained the idea of finding this Zecora right away but not for the "almost" qualifier. He knew he had something that he couldn't remember finishing; a fact that ate at him too much to put off any longer. The note he was found with identified two things, one he suspected was a pony, perhaps a handler or contact, but the other he was unsure about. The fact that was all he had on him when found was an important one he couldn't overlook. Since he was presumably on assignment to Ponyville, it was reasonable to assume that the Ponyville library may have more information about this mysterious HoH&HD. No sooner did he choose his destination, then he heard the noise that Pinkie Pie imitated with surprising aptitude—the one that she called the box noise—coming from the next alley over. Lacus was quickly reminded of which face he was wearing when a familiar voice trailed out into the street. “Well how was I supposed to know that they–” And, as quickly as it began so too it ended with an interruption. “Oh hello, Doctor! We’re glad we ran into you again. Aren't we Lyra?” Bon Bon said with moderate hesitation. Lacus heart skipped a beat as he tried to imagine the original's face, which he was also wearing, twisting in confusion of the situation. The instant familiarity these two mares were addressing the real article about a situation played out by a duplicate defines paradox for a changeling. To be and be forgotten is the nature of infiltration, and Lacus felt some small irony on that note. His instinct told him that for an original to be confronted for an event it had no part would breed suspicion– especially so soon after the event. He could barely hear The Doctor over the sound of his own violently pumping pulse. The short pause ended with the confusion, that Lacus had imagined would be present, audibly clinging to the words as the Doctor said: “Hello, Sweetie Drops, is it?” Lucas knew it was time to save face, since the real one was only a few paces away, and if someone spotted the two together there would be big trouble. Lacus shifted forms in the pause between the obvious lead in and the minty mare’s response. He could only think to shift back into the form he was committed to the hospital in. Though this time he cleared up the particulars. With a flash of green light a cutiemark now adorned the hyper-tense flank of the dirt-brown changeling with the grass-green mane. It was only then that Lacus could be free to leave the alleyway whilst trying to seem as casual as possible. As he turned toward the library an audio queue from Lyra suggested that Bon Bon may have nodded as Lyra reluctantly added: “Yeah, you were right…” Her tone was filled with remorse as she followed up, “We’re sorry for how we treated you.” The bashful apology concluded with hooves scraping against the gravel. The urge for Lacus to stop and watch was almost irresistible. Though, as he passed by he knew that doing so would only be flirting with disaster. Just another pony, the phrase tumbled over and over again in his mind, just stay in the background. As he trotted past he saw the real Doctor standing next to that big blue box of his. The Doctor who—without missing a beat—cheerfully responded: “Okay then! As long as you've learned your lesson, all is forgiven!” The line was delivered with a big cheesy smile that hinted at his uncertainty in the situation, though the mares then made their graceful exits by trotting in the other direction. “What was that about?” a third feminine voice questioned. A question that was accompanied by the rickety squeak of closing the box’s door. Lacus was nearly out of earshot when the puzzled voice of The Doctor addressed her unanswerable question with a chuckle. “I have no idea—maybe it hasn't happened yet!” *** As he approached the library, Lacus was still wrestling with the conundrum at Sugarcube Corner. It was difficult, if not impossible, for him to believe that a stallion could chalk up a continuity error in his reality as precognition, or… possibly post-cognition? He couldn't put his hoof on it because it was more reasonable for the stallion just to reject the notion entirely, and to think the girls were mistaking him for some other pony because they actually were. Lacus hung his head at the paradox; unbeknownst to him there was an object in its path. A thud resonated through his skull and the through door to the Library itself. He cupped his face with his hooves he rubbed his eyes. It really hurt, and he thought about how he had better start paying more attention to the environment as it changed around him. His eyes were still a bit hazy as a purple blob opened the door and addressed him. Though the address was drowned out by the ringing in his ears. As it came into focus a baby dragon echoed the sentiment; seemingly repeating himself. “Twilight’s not here,” Spike said. Lacus looked down to Spike, who was wearing an apron and holding a feather duster, then past him to a large stack of books, then overhead to the sign outside that read “Golden Oak Library”, before finally returning his gaze to the dragon. “This is Ponyville’s public library, isn't it?” Lacus asked in a confused tone that he hoped didn't sound too forced, knowing full well that it was, and that he did. “Are you the librarian?” Lacus continued, looking to the minion of Magic with a raised eyebrow. Spike folded his arms in annoyance while responding: “No, I’m not a librarian, I’m a dragon, and like I said Twilight isn't here right now.” Lacus motioned to the stack of books behind Spike, and then conspicuously eyed the odd attire before begging the question in the most pleasant tone he could muster: “You’re not the librarian? You just clean and organize the place, make sure all the books get back where they belong, and ensure every word is accounted for?” After a momentary pause he smiled warmly, and added: “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit, Mr…?” The sentence was an invitation for the dragon to introduce himself to this persona that he probably hadn't met yet as well as do a bit of boasting to put his mind at ease. A look of recognition filled Spike’s eyes as he put forth his claw at the shameless flattery he was receiving. This gesture in turn caused Lacus to wonder how accurate his statements had actually been. “My name’s Spike!” the dragon proudly proclaimed as they shook on it, “And you’re right.” Continuing on in a boastful tone, he added: “I do run this place.” Spike turned to walk back inside while eyeing an empty bird-stand. Lacus followed him in while offering a greeting of his own, “Pleasure to meet you Spike. My name is Lucas Greymane." Spike turned to Lacus with narrowed scrutiny. “Your mane is green,” he noted as Lacus brushed past him. Turning to offer a retort, Lacus patted Spike on the head. “These are fins.” He made his way to the nearest shelf while Spike closed the door. Sitting before it he scanned the titles, hoping that something would jog his memory, when Spike spoke up. “Hey, you’re that new pony in town who got poison joke.” Spike couldn't help but end the sentence in a snicker. Lacus frowned but didn't acknowledge it any further until Spike persisted, “Don’tcha know that stuff is bad news? What were you doing with it anyway?” Both were valid questions, which he didn't know the answer to either of, so he responded the only way he could, “Can’t really know something you've never experienced...” The statement was so painfully vague, grey even, that Lacus was curious if it changed the color of his mane or tongue when he uttered it. Thankfully it was also a statement sufficiently pseudo-intellectual that a baby dragon might just believe it to be profound enough not to question it. “Speaking of…” Lacus began by craning his neck to address Spike directly, “ I am looking for a text on H and HD.” Lacus worked in a more subtle pseudo-intellectual tone: “You see, our library didn't have it.” The explanation was as purposefully vacant as the stare that accompanied it. The library grew silent, but not in a reverent way, as Spike fidgeted with a response that he clearly didn't want to deliver. “Hearts and Hooves Day?” he uncomfortably questioned, “Why would you want to read that dusty old book?” Why indeed? Lacus thought as he turned back to the book case. He would be furious with his time being wasted on this ridiculous pony celebration if he wasn't soaking in the sheer audacity that comes with successfully stealing one’s own pants. For a reminder, he glanced down at his cover cutiemark to be sure he wasn't about to say something outlandish. Observing the speech bubble with two interlocked gears caused him to sigh internally. Great. That could mean anything, the words railed quickly through his head a he looked back to Spike. “Well you see, Spike,” he began shortly before pausing to indicate his flank, “I’m something of an analyst and our past is is as much a part of who we are as our present. It is the past, after all, that decides the future.” It was beginning to dawn on him how multipurpose the sentiment he found himself echoing for the second time today was. Lacus was pretty sure that wasn't what the mark was supposed to mean and, though Spike did not seem entirely convinced, he was apparently less hesitant. A single moment turned to a long pause that Lacus made as uncomfortable as possible with his posture alone. He was trying not to intimidate—only to unnerve—Spike; who eventually blurted out: “Oh. Okay I guess… but you gotta promise me you won’t try to make that love poison.” Lacus was beside himself. There was a love potion? Did he know about it before his amnesia? He tried to set aside his disbelief for a moment to inquire about it. “There’s a love poison?” he asked Spike. The baby dragon nodded cautiously while responding: “Yeah, and some fillies thought it was a love potion, and tried to play matchmaker… Poor Rarity…” “What?” Lacus didn't so much speak the word as much as he became it. “Yeah, Carousel Boutique was a complete mess after Cheerilee and Big Mac left!” Spike said with a child-like empathy for Generosity that quickly turned to misty eyed fantasy. Lacus hung his head in his hoof and rubbed the bridge of his muzzle while Spike daydreamed of what was so obviously Rarity by his quiet mutterings. Before interrupting what he was certain to be fantasies no more erotic than marshmallow eskimo-kisses, Lacus cleared his throat while indicating his blue spots. “I've had quite enough poison to last me a good long while so, trust me, that potion wasn't even on my mind when I asked,” a technical truth delivered with a misleading qualifier. For some reason he just couldn't bring himself to flat out lie to the baby dragon who already seemed so dangerously deluded. After a moment of visibly shaking the fantasy from his mind Spike replied with a dismissive, “Fine, whatever, I've got to get back to work anyway.” The statement ended with the production of a manual pulled seemingly at random from the main pile of books. Seeing that “Greymane” had neither horn nor saddlebags to carry the book, Spike secured it to the stallion with a short length of rope; so that its pages would not be filled with saliva. Lacus smiled again and as he did so he found each passing smile got easier than the last. He voiced an exuberant “Thank you!” before guessing that it was probably customary to complement a dragon on their horde upon leaving it with a treasure. Though it might seem odd that he would even do so, it cost him nothing, and Lacus could see the little guy could really use the encouragement. “May your horde overflow evermore with a bounty of knowledge!” The words came in a voice that Lacus had intended to be charming as he made his way to the door. Spike seemed confused at first but began musing about the manuscripts being treasures in his horde. Lacus glanced over his shoulder to see Spike thoughtfully returning the books to their proper shelves when he walked shoulder first into trouble. Twilight had returned, and not only that he had bumped right into her. It would seem that he was as unexpected to her, as she was to him, at least such was the tone of her voice. “What are you doing in my house!?” Twilight excitedly exclaimed with ruffled feathers. “Spike, who is this!?” she hastily shouted past Lacus to the resident dragon. Before Spike could make the introductions, Lacus stepped around her defensively explaining: “I was checking out a book from Ponyville’s public library.” He raised his knee to signify checking an imaginary watch. “Oh, would you just look at the time. I mean Poison Joke. I’d better go see Zecora!” he added sardonically. From behind him Spike piped up, “Ah, Twilight relax, you worry too much. That’s just Lucas and he’s a historian or something.” Lacus offered a slight bow before the princess which, in conjunction to Spikes word’s, caused her to blush a little; though it was over before she could protest. On his way back up, however, something caught his eye that made the whole world stand still and the heart of the swarm pulsed through his very being. The magnitude of the discovery was enough to draw him into the moment where something clicked inside of him. It was business time. “Princess, what a lovely necklace! May I inquire where you got it?” Lacus asked while channeling all of his genuine sincerity and also peppering in a bit of a flirtatious tone as to not sound too eager about the item itself. Twilight responded with raised hoof to fidget with the perfectly cut crystalline cardioid. “Why, thank you!” Her response was one filled with ever present self-consciousness of a nerd who has become popular overnight. “It was a gift from Princess Cadence...” she finished by letting her voice trail off in insecurity, and in the instant her zeal returned as she had been distracted more than enough today. "Spike! Grab your things, we're off to the Crystal Empire to find out what makes a royal pony tick!" "Well, don't let me get in your way," Lacus laughed with a nod. He he could feel the amulet pull at him, and he had to get away before he exposed himself. “I just wanted to say it is quite fetching,” the complement was offered as he struggled to tear himself away, “and I hope it treats you well,” he concluded with a knowing nod to her body language meant to signify that he was aware any more attention would make her even more uncomfortable. He was now on course to the Everfree Forest with one thought: This changed everything.