I settle into my seat on the plane, waiting for take off. Sure, it’s a waste of time for me, but it wouldn’t be for Selene De Lune, and since I am her, I do need to keep a paper trail of my life. In a few minutes, this hunk of aluminum and electronics will lift off the ground and from there, a nice couple of hours flight down south to John Wayne International, just a hop skip and a jump from my home.
Still, it was fun being in Seattle this past week, even if I was by myself for a change. It’s not that I wanted to go alone, but North had to attend the Mobile World Congress in Barcelona – lucky him! – for Technon, and I was asked by Assault Gear – “Our Gaming Gear is Made for War!” – to see if I’d be interested in endorsing their Assassin II line of peripherals. I admit, the paycheck’s nice, and with some birthdays coming up, I think I could use the coin to get some stuff for people, though I’m going to have to ask North for some help on Carrie’s gift; she’s a bit of a cypher still.
Anyways, while I was chatting with some of the Assault Gear execs – they do make a nice controller based on the PS4’s layout – I also got to meet the team captain of the Gunbunnies, a team that specializes in shooters. Frankie Estevez, or to use her SN, Fr4tGrrl, tried to immediately recruit me, but I told her I was happy where I was, given that the Vixens could use a bit more seasoning before any of us “old guard” retire. We also discussed how more and more teams are specializing, instead of being all-around generalists like I am; while I’d like to keep the Vixens as a generalist team, I know that won’t stay that way. She agreed with me on that, and it’s always nice to be told, even in a roundabout way, that you’re at the top of your game.
I’m almost going to hate beating her when Pacific War starts.
During our chat, though, she did comment that she was surprised at my age. Still can’t believe that at twenty-five (or what I’m supposed to be), I’m considered an aging player, which is weird when I still see that the men’s and mixed brackets have guys that are in their thirties and forties still competing. I realize that the time of a cyberathlete isn’t a long one, but personally I’m planning to stick around for as long as I can.
Still, I guess that’s just the norm for society as it sees it, and that’s just human nature. But I have to admit, ponies aren’t much better at that, I’m guessing: while I recall my era in Equestria venerating the old and wise, I kinda get the feeling that wasn’t the case during my very brief second stay.
Regardless, even with some interesting meetings with the Assault Gear folks and spending some time chatting with Frankie, it’s been a boring few days here otherwise and I miss my boyfriend, so I’m glad I’m on the way home. If I remember correctly, he’ll be in Europe for a couple more days, so that’ll give me more than enough time to come up with a few sweet things for my guy.
A few hours later, and I’m happily pulling up to the home…
…Except there’s a very gaudy magenta Camaro sitting in the driveway, parked in the exact middle, as though it owns the place. I pull up to the sidewalk, and I notice by the front door, there are several of my things. What the fuck?
I get out of the car, and walk into my home, and what I see I don’t like. Someone has broken in, but…well, I’ve watched more than enough movies and TV during my time here on Earth and I have yet to figure of any thief who lays down plastic matting on couches, or leaves small jars of what looks like chocolate and other jams….
Wait...chocolate and other stuff?
I pick up one of them, looking at the label: Karma Sutra’s Edible Raspberry Chocolate Body Paint. The back cheerfully informs that it gives off a tingling sensation when applied and doubles as it’s licked off.
Who wou…Oh, no.
And sure enough, a second later, coming out of my bedroom is her. Goddamn, North was right; she does look like a streetwalker. She’s got a body that I’d be mildly jealous about if I had been born human, slightly tan skin, green eyes, and blonde hair done in a style that’s over the side of the head and frizzed. She reminds me of an anime character I once saw while watching a marathon over at Pumpkin’s place, but that girl was a cop and this girl is clearly a living sperm container.
She’s holding a pair of my jeans, still not noticing that I’m here and mutters, “That man of mine – seriously! This is just ugly! And I’m not fat!”
Okay, that’s enough insults for one day, strumpet. “I’m not fat either,” I tell her.
She turns and looks at me for a second in shock, but that’s soon gone. “Who are you and what the fuck are you doing in my house?” she asks.
“No, this is my house,” I tell her, “and you have five seconds to tell me what the hell you’re doing here!”
“I told you,” she snarls at me. “This is my house – well, technically my boyfriend’s house – and you have no business here!”
“Oh, really?” I ask, crossing my arms. Part of me just wants to go ‘horn and wings’ and scare the hell out of her, but I promised North that if we ever got into this situation that I’d let human authorities handle this. “Then who are you and who is your boyfriend?”
She throws my clothing on the floor – does she know how much I paid for those? – and crows, “This is the home of my boyfriend, North Shores! And my name is Destiny Ranson! And your name is ‘Get the fuck out of my house now, or else’!”
Too bad for her I’m not stupid. Instead, I calmly walk over to her; she takes a step back as if she’s expecting something. I then bend down and look at the bottom of the breakfast bar by the kitchen, pull away the fake panel and expose the safe. Punching in the digital code, I open it and produce the house title.
“Read,” I tell her and add, “then after that, you’re going to pick up all my clothes, put them in the laundry bin, and then you have four seconds to get out of my house before I call the cops.”
She looks it over, especially the part where the house is co-owned by North Shores and Selene De Lune. “This…this is clearly fake!” she tells me.
“Yes, because I just happened to know where North and I stored our safe, and just happened to know what the code that I punched in was, and just happened to have the title printed up by the title company when we bought the house,” I droll, giving her the stupid treatment. What did she study in college, underwater basketweaving? And “Destiny Ranson”? That sounds like a stripper name, for crying out loud!
“SHUT UP!” she roars at me, the look in her eyes growing enraged. “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE AND OUT OF MY BOYFRIEND’S LIFE, YOU CUNT!”
A second later, a very awkward cavalry arrives: Carrie rushes into the house, calling out, “Moon! Moon, I…oh, shit.” She looks at Destiny and says, “You’re not supposed to be here; how did y—”
Destiny looks at Carrie as though she’s a lifeline. “Carrie! Please, help me get this wannabe homewrecker out of mine and your brother’s house!”
Carrie, however, stood firm. “Destiny…how did you find out about this place? And I told you, North doesn’t want to see you anymore. He’s been dating Moon for about a year now, and they’re…well, look, it didn’t work out between you and my brother, but that doesn’t mea—”
There was something about the look in that girl’s eyes that changed right at that moment, and I didn’t like it. Putting myself between Carrie and Destiny, I said, “Look, out of respect for…whatever…you and my boyfriend had—”
“Which was one date and nothing else,” I hear Carrie whisper behind me.
“—then so long as you leave peacefully, I won’t press charges,” I tell her. “But if you make things difficult, so help me, I’ll—”
“I’m not going to sit here and listen to a fat pig like you!” Destiny snarls. “Not when North wants – and deserves – a girl with real looks!” She then turned her rage on to Carrie. “And you! How could you betray your brother with…with – this slut?”
Carrie looked at her angrily; I suppose I should be glad that she has that much confidence in me since I’ve started dating her brother, especially since we don’t know each other that well. “Shut up! You only went on one date with him, and North told me how creepy he thought you were! Frankly, I’m embarrassed that I even fixed you two up, given that had I known what kind of a freakball you are, I would never have done that to him!” She then pointed at me and added, “Moon here, she’s a normal member of the human race, something you’re not!”
That last statement I’d probably find incredibly ironic and laughable were the situation not so tense.
Destiny then did what any normal psychopath would do in this situation: she ran over to the kitchen and grabbed one of the knives from the butcher block. Normally this would be the part where I would go alicorn and introduce this little twit to lunar regolith, but I’ve got Carrie behind me to protect and a big secret to keep that way, so….
Moving as fast as I can – that is, as fast as a girl like me should – I reach into the safe and pull out one of North’s pistols. I’ve never used a gun in real life, but you’d be amazed what you can do as a gamer, especially one backed up with earth pony strength. I hope I won’t have to fire this, but if I do, I know I can reasonably shoot to wound the lunatic with the santoku.
“Put down the knife and get out,” I order her. Part of me is tempted to use the Royal Everfree Voice, but then there’s all that glass that would need to be replaced, and who knows what damage it would do to Carrie’s hearing, being so close. Hell, I don’t even know if the gun is loaded, and if not, given the situation, that would give Destiny just enough of an advantage until I had to expose my secret to protect Carrie.
She takes a step.
I aim the gun.
She pauses.
I pause.
She sets down the knife and glares at me. “I don’t know what blackmail you’ve got against Carrie that would turn her against me, but let’s get something clear, bitch – don’t sleep easy at night. This is far from over.”
I follow her path with the gun as she storms out, and it’s not until we hear the squeal of tires that Carrie and I collapse in a puddle of relief: Her, because the danger’s over, and me, because my secret is safe. We hold each other while Carrie shudders from adrenaline shock and I try comforting her.
As I try soothing her, I reach out with my mind to North to tell him what’s going on, but either I’m emotionally drained right now or it’s too far – the latter shouldn’t really be possible, but anything’s a given right now. Besides, I know someone who I can reach at the moment. «Katie, I could use a little help here!»
«Moon? Where are you?» Her “voice” is reverbing, which means she’s speaking as well as thinking. Well, she isn’t really used to the full range of changeling magic she has, so….
«Mental telepathy,» I explain.
«Wow, you can do that? Cool!»
«Well, so can you – you should have enough power to.»
«Moon, in case you forgot, I didn’t become a full-fledged queen until you decided I was one and pissed off HIVE. Even if there was a book on how to use anything other than shapeshifting and emotion vampirism, they sure as hell aren’t going to let me have a copy.»
«Fine, I’ll train you when I get a chance. That’s not important right now anyway. The point is, when can you get to my place?»
«With current traffic, about thirty minutes or so, why?» I quickly explain to her what happened, and I can practically feel the panic in her mind. «If that’s the problem, you’d better get a hold of our resident gun nut. You contact her and I’ll swing by and pick her up.»
«Good idea, thanks. See you in a few.» With that settled, I reach out for Pumpkin.
An hour, one police visit, and arrivals by Katie and Pumpkin later, and things are relatively back to normal. Relatively.
“Pumpkin? Would you please put that down? You’re scaring me.” Even though the guns don’t bother me, hearing Carrie tell that to Pumpkin…well, she does have a point: I was expecting Pumpkin to just bring over her pistol and call it that. I had no idea she had an actual AK-12 – and where she got one? I probably don’t want to know.
Pumpkin looks at Carrie and tells her, “Relax. It might look like an AK-12 – state-of-the-art Russian army weapon – but it’s just a gift from a Russian fan who was watching a tournament I was in a couple years ago. It’s a prop gun; believe me, I’ve had to prove it more than once.”
“So if it’s just a prop, why’d you bring it?” Katie asks her.
“Well, if you saw how Carrie reacted to it, how’s Destiny going to react?” Pumpkin said with a smile. “Believe me, she’ll lose her shit. Besides, I have a real pistol or two just in case, and North’s is still in his safe, right?”
“Actually,” I tell her, “I’m wearing it underneath this shirt, right where I can reach it.”
“Don’t you think you two are overdoing it?” Carrie asks both me and Pumpkin. “Sitting around with guns is something that I expect from my brother and his friends, not…well, not you and your friends, Moon.”
“Would you believe it’s more fun this way?” I ask her.
“No.”
“Well, you got me. The fact is, this girl’s a full-on whackjob that thinks she’s dating – has always dated – your brother and when we tried to correct her, the first thing that came to mind was killing us. Granted, I’m just a helpless young woman—” I’m so glad that Carrie didn’t see Katie and Pumpkin’s perfectly synchronized eye-rolling right at that moment, “—and my man isn’t expected to be home for another few days, so I have to do what I need to do to protect my chastity and my fidelity.”
I hear Katie giggle. “This from the woman who we went shopping with in Frederick’s of Hollywood just before you left for Seattle,” she cackles, and though I’m not looking in her direction, I wouldn’t be surprised if Pumpkin’s nodding in step. Ah, my friends – what would I do without them?
Well, aside from not being embarrassed in front of my boyfriend’s sister, that is….
The girls offer to stay the night, and for that I’m grateful. I get to bond with Carrie over Monopoly and she admits to me that I’m much better for North than Destiny ever was, and that she knows I’ll never replace Rachel, but that North loves me intensely. I tell her in turn that I never want to interfere with the feelings he has for his late wife; indeed, I wish I’d had the chance to get to know her. Katie interjects that I would have likely made great friends with Rachel and it makes me wonder about that. What would a woman, long since gone, think about me dating her husband? Sure, I don’t doubt that Rachel would have wanted North to be happy and find love with another woman...but if we have to get technical, I’m merely a female, a mare, not really a woman.
I guess Katie picked up on it, because after everyone fell asleep, she told me that what little she remembered of Rachel, she was very much in the same vein as I am, and that I shouldn’t worry about it. I was going to ask her how she knew, given that I already figured it out, but she said that I radiated enough worry that she said even a normal person would’ve picked up on it, and from what she could feel, she knew that Carrie and Pumpkin did. I promised to talk to them in the morning about my concerns, but Katie commented that they’ll likely come to me separately sometime this weekend.
Too bad that didn’t really happen, as we had some serious issues the following morning: When Pumpkin offered to go out and grab some groceries for me, we found out that the tires on her car had been slashed. A second check showed that Katie’s had been slashed as well, as were Carrie’s. But my car had fared the worst: the tires had been slashed, the car itself had been keyed, and the gas tank cover was open, meaning that something had likely been poured into it. But the worst of all was what was smeared all over the windows and door handles, and by the stench of it, it was fairly fresh, only a couple of hours old, at most.
Apparently I must have hinted at something unintentionally, because Pumpkin pulled me aside and insisted that I let the police look into it rather than, as she put it, “go horns and hooves and hit her hard enough to send her relatives back to the Stone Age.” While I chuckled at that, it was a compelling idea. Still, I don’t think I have enough power to exile her to the Moon, much less the distant past, and besides, if Luna – meaning the satellite above – is anything like the one I spent a millennium on, I wouldn’t want to sully it, thankyouverymuch.
A quick call to the police, and given what happened the day before, they responded pretty quickly. We explained everything, and they said they’d look into it. Meanwhile, I had my friends’ cars towed to the local auto shop while I paid for new tires for them – they all protested, but I insisted – and afterwards they went with me to the car rental place while I plopped down some money on a rental, since my wheels were going to be in the shop for at least a couple of weeks. What worried me was that they pointed out that whoever did it poured water into the gasoline tank instead of sand or sugar; while the latter two might gunk up a car, the former definitely would and that meant the perpetrator meant business.
Oh, and then to add insult to injury, a detective called me and reported that Destiny had an alibi...and oh did she have an alibi. Turns out my earlier comment that she’s practically stripperific? Well, surprise surprise, guess what she does for a living! I was advised that I should stay away from Sweet Sighs Gentlemen’s Club in Alhambra while they look into it.
I try not to remember that name, but I know it’s going to stick in my head. I also try not to remember that Sweet Sighs sounds like the name of a mare of the night back where I come from, but at least I can ignore that, because that’ll be harder to explain.
Fortunately, I do have a way of getting my point to leave me the fuck alone across….
It’s three in the morning and I’m sure all the others are asleep when I get into a yoga position. Granted, I can do magic in any form, but for some reason, it just feels natural for me to use this position to dreamwalk while I’m in my human form. Obviously I can’t do it in my native form, but then I really don’t need to. So, just as I’m focusing, I hear a gentle knock on my door and before I can even say anything I see Katie come in. “Thought you could use some company,” was all she said.
“You knew, didn’t you?” I ask her; in turn, she nods.
“You’re radiating magic strong enough for it to wake me up; when that happened, I felt your anger – believe me, that’s giving me a stomach ache right now – and thought you could use a friend.” She sat down on the bed and said, “So, please, calm down, unless you want me throwing up.”
My lips curled naturally into a smirk, though it wasn’t meant in ill-temper. “I’m sorry, Katie,” I tell her. “I didn’t mean to make you sick.”
“I know. Most of the time I can ignore stuff like that, but your feelings are exceptionally strong this time around, and that means that your situation is more important than my discomfort.” She reached over and took my hand in hers. “You know, Luna, sometimes I really hate you.”
That confused me. “But I’m not—”
“Yes, you are. You’re probably the other side of her coin, Moon. Who says that you’re not the one that’s whole, and back in Equestria that moon princess is just wondering what she is and how she fits in that world. You, on the other hand, have adjusted to this world in the year and a half you’ve been here. I know this sounds silly, but if you ask me, you’re much more deserving of the title of princess than that other Luna will ever be.”
I can’t help but blush. “Thanks,” I tell her.
“There, stomach ache done,” she said with a wink. “And now with that done, you want to talk?”
“I was just about to reach into Destiny’s mind and shake it a few times. I figure that should get the point across.”
“But isn’t that what Nightmare Moon would do?” Katie asked. “You’ve said dozens of times that you’ve given up that part of yourself, and I think I speak for everyone when I say that we wouldn’t want to see it back. I wouldn’t want to see you do that to yourself just over this idiot – she’s not worth it, Moon. She’s not worth being the person you were.”
I think about it. I gave up being Nightmare Moon, because in the end, it wasn’t me. I just wanted to be Moon. I look at my hands and imagine my ebon-colored hooves; I shudder at the fact that Luna/she/we/I put blood on them once, taking millions of lives; it also happened before, with Katie’s ancestors. I close my eyes and turn away. My hooves were bloodstained once; I can never let my hands become that way as well.
Katie senses a reaction in me, and smiles. “Feel better now?”
“Not really, but I get your point. I love North too much to have him see me go down that path again – that way lies...well, I’m sure that white-winged bitch is there.” I give her a smile and add, “Thanks, Katie. Really.”
“Good; my job is done,” she replies to me. “By the way, you owe me breakfast.”
I give her a hug, sending all my appreciation and love into it, hoping that’ll suffice. “Better?”
“Yeah, but...I meant real breakfast. There’s this nice place that just opened at Shoreline Village in Long Beach.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Deal.”
The moment his plane landed at LAX, I could feel his presence and I admit, I practically melted in relief. I had to restrain myself from teleporting to the airport, mainly because the house needed cleaning – I am soooo glad nobody found any of my feathers; that would’ve been hell to explain – and I needed to look over some paperwork that arrived this morning from Assault Gear via FedEx. That lasted all of two seconds. Then I did the laundry; using the machines, that took another hour. At this point I was going to go outside and start working on the gardening when I heard his car pull up, and it took me just about every bit of focus in my body to sit myself on the sofa. I could feel my tail wagging like it’s having its own seizure, but I am only pony, after all.
I wait long enough for him to get into the house before I jump into his arms and kiss him, my lips against his, muzzle mashing into his nose. “You know I missed you,” I tell him.
He holds me tight and I practically want to purr! “You’ve no idea how much I missed you, love,” he tells me, and I want to glow. “It’s been a rough week, both on the reporting part and the personal part. There was this girl from New Zealand, a reporter, who spent all week trying to put the moves on me. I swear, I told her I was in a relationship, but she just wasn’t listening. By Wednesday I actually had to move hotels, would you believe?”
I snicker. “Well, too bad for her – I’m keeping you.” I levitate his bags, and say, “C’mon, we have some catching up to do.” With that I prance – yes, I admit it, I pranced – right into the bedroom. “You coming?” I ask, flicking my tail up. Yes, I am a tease.
“Shouldn’t I lock the car, or...wait, where is your car?” he asks.
I pout at him. “North, I strongly suggest you come screw your marefriend before she gets angry and then you have to deal with angry sex.” Okay, I admit it. I like my beau – what’s wrong with that?
“The things I do for you,” he says with a smile and follows me into the bedroom.
Hours later, we’re both sitting at the table having dinner. I had to magic up a veggie lasagna because I’m feeling comfortable in my normal form at the moment and we were a little too busy doing other things to have time to cook or whatever. However, over dinner I tell him about everything, both the good and the bad.
He looks at me with concern, holding his fork as if it’s a trident of protection. “I can’t say that I’m entirely surprised, but if the cops said she has a good alibi, then maybe she does. Did they suggest any other options?”
“Not really, but Katie said she’ll ask the HIVE if they’ll look into it. I’m sure they’ll want to stay on my good side, so I get my own army of private investigators, for free.”
“Well, if it gets any worse, we’ll file a restraining order. Hope it won’t come to that, but we’ll see,” he tells me and again I want to just melt into his arms. Have I mentioned how lucky a mare I am that I have him?
The next few days go by smoothly. The auto shop gets my car fixed far faster than they estimated, so I pick it up. North gets his articles in on time and he and Cherry start talking about a European subsidiary; that’s still a ways away, though. I take the girls out to breakfast – along with Tae; can’t let her feel left out, either – as thanks for helping me to deal with the issue with Destiny. As for that bitch, it seems like she got the message and the police tell me that from what they can tell, she’s either playing the long game or she’s given up. The latter I can deal with; the former I will deal with.
As for now, I’m just relaxing, having breakfast with my friends, when my phone rings. “Yes, this is Selene De Lune,” I answer.
“Ah, pleasant morning t’ ye, yer highness,” I hear in an Irish brogue, and I fight the instincts to reach through the phone and strangle its owner. I have to remind myself that Dr. Molloy and I made an agreement ensuring Katie’s safety and right to be who she is. But Katie just asked for a favor for me and while ponies are always glad to lend a hoof, with humans – and changelings – there’s occasionally a string attached. And knowing Paddy Molloy, there’s definitely one.
“Oh, hello, Dr. Molloy,” I calmly say into my phone. Pumpkin and Katie look up briefly, but so as to not rock the boat, flash each other a brief glance and go back to their meals. “This is an unexpected call.”
“Aye, yes, that’d it be, your highness. But I had a request from one of our...how shall we say? Clients? Yes, that should work as a term. Anyway, I had a request from one of our clients that we look into a problem for ye, Princess. But if you don’t mind, I’d like you t’ come by the office this afternoon to discuss it.”
“Sorry, too busy today,” I tell him. “But if you can free your schedule for tomorrow I’m available all day. In fact, why don’t we meet over breakfast?”
“That’d be too kind, Princess. Would nine in the morning suffice? There’s this lovely pub down by our office that serves the best full Irish in America. Would that work?”
“That’s fine, Doctor. See you tomorrow.” We say our goodbyes, and then I spin to Carrie and Tae something about a request by the Hampstead Institute for me to give some lectures in some local schools why STEM classes are important for alternative careers like videogame pros and the like. But for every word that comes out of my mouth, every bit of the lie, I’m hating myself for telling people who are my boyfriend’s family. At least my friends know I’m lying through my teeth, not that it’s any better.
There are times when I really hate being me.