• Published 2nd Nov 2013
  • 8,413 Views, 346 Comments

Alienation - Longtooth



I am not Twilight Sparkle. We share one body, one past, but not our souls. I do not know why I am here, or why I have done these terrible things. This is my story.

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Rainbow Junction

The club was called the Rainbow Junction. It had a theme to match its name, the walls painted with swirling arcs of color and the lights switching filters to create a constantly shifting array of prismatic hues. The effect actually deadened some of the differences in the coat colors of the ponies present, reducing the pastel wonderland of gathered Equestrians to a muted, undifferentiated herd. Music pumped out of large speakers that surrounded the dance floor, a heavy bassline almost visibly thrumming through the ponies swaying on the multicolored tiles.

Honestly? I kind of liked it.

Getting in had been a matter of waiting in line for half an hour and then being passingly pretty. I knew in some vague, distant sense that some places required a little something extra to get through the door, whether it be bits or connections, but this wasn’t nearly so exclusive a place. I had brought a good bit of money with me, I had the vague notion that I was going to get drunk and dance, so even if there had been a cover charge I don’t think I would have had a problem.

I waded through the crowd of ponies milling about, skirting the dance floor and heading to a bar that glowed in a half-dozen neon shades. I slid onto a stool and waited for the bartender to get to me, scanning the crowd and trying to get the lay of the land. The Rainbow Junction wasn’t packed to the gills, but it was crowded enough to make differentiating groups of friends difficult.

I don’t know what I was looking for. I know what I would be looking for now, but I didn’t have any reason for it then. Still, remembering it now I can pick out a few things that should have been obvious. As an example, the door to the washrooms that sometimes ponies entered and left one at a time, and sometimes in hushed groups. I noted the behaviour, but didn’t have a context for it.

Oh, I knew about drugs and all the illegal activities that could be going on in a place like this. Twilight wasn’t completely naive. But she’d never experienced it. Never seen it in action, and thus neither had I. Heather ran a clean bar, alcohol only, and Ponyville didn’t exactly have a thriving drug culture anyways, so there had been no opportunities in my forays there. Here? In the heart of Equestrian civilization? It was rampant. Far more than Twilight could have ever imagined.

I think that the wide variety of recreational drug use isn’t actually a problem. Yes, I know how this contradicts a lot of what I’m doing, but you don’t know everything yet. At least, I don’t think you do. In any case, that’s a later part of the story. For now, I’ll make my opinion clear: I don’t mind the ‘soft’ drugs that get passed around frequently. As it turns out, a little psychedelia is good for the soul. It’s the hard stuff that pisses me off. Especially the black crystal.

I’m getting ahead of myself again. What you need to know now is that black crystal is bad news, and it’s definitely what led to my later actions.

I hadn’t been at the bar for more than a minute when I’m approached by this white unicorn mare with a wild blue mane and purple sunglasses. She sat down next to me, a smile on her face. “Wow, I never expected you of all ponies to show up at a place like this!” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the music. This was Vinyl Scratch.

Twilight knew her. Not personally, mind you, but she occasionally did shows in Ponyville, which meant Twilight had seen her around and knew of her talents. She’d also been the DJ at Shining Armor and Cadance’s wedding, now that I think about it. Definitely a friend of Pinkie Pie’s, but then again who isn’t?

The point is that Twilight knew who she was, so I knew who she was. I cursed silently at this, I was hoping to remain completely anonymous. Still, since she wasn’t a close friend of Twilight’s I felt I could relax my pretense and be more natural… whatever that turned out to be.

“Trying something new,” I told her.

“That’s cool,” she said with a knowing grin. It was kind of annoying, not being able to see her eyes. I couldn’t tell if her expression was genuine or if she was being sarcastic. Worse yet, she didn’t seem to want to say anything beyond that, leaving the conversation infuriatingly hanging.

“We haven’t been formally introduced,” I said, searching for something to work with.

“Right. Name’s Vinyl, but out here and on stage I’m DJ-PON3,” she said, pronouncing the stage name with the number. “Everypony knows who you are, Twilight Sparkle.”

I snorted. “Everypony? I doubt it.” I hoped not.

She laughed. “Sure, some of these kids might not recognize you right away, but you get your face in the paper often enough and you’re gonna get noticed. You saved the frickin’ world, gal. I’m kinda shocked you haven’t got a drink yet.”

She’s was kind of right, actually. Twilight and her friends lived relatively quiet lives in Ponyville, well as quiet as lives in that disaster-pit could be, but they had been instrumental in a great deal of Equestria-saving. They were a kind of celebrity, the kind that wasn’t in the news every other week, but were every time something major happened. Ponyville, again, didn’t much care as a whole, but the rest of the world? Oh, we were known. More so than Rarity ever let on from her forays into high society. Had Twilight been told, I would have factored it into my plans, done the disguise thing a lot earlier. As it was? I hadn’t expected to be noticed by anypony.

I kind of sat there with my mouth open for a bit, unable to say anything. Vinyl laughed again, slapping me on the back in a gesture of camaraderie that she hadn’t earned. “You really didn’t know? Wow, man, I’m completely spaced by that. What made you come out here?”

I shrugged. “Needed a change of scenery,” I said. “Thought this one sounded, uh, cool.”

“Yeah, this place is chill,” she said. “Got a great sound system. Can’t put the levels too high because of some structural crap, but the acoustics make up for it. Good for dancing and wicked trips, but the drinks are way overpriced.”

“Really? Huh.”

“Yeah, super jacked-up. Here, I’ll get first round, alright?”

“If you want to,” I said. She had a kind of energy to her. A frenetic charm that I associated with Pinkie, but without the psychotic obliviousness. I could actually feel myself getting caught up in it, letting my guard down. “This is kind of my first time in a club like this.” I admitted.

“No shit?” She didn’t seem too surprised, but again those damn sunglasses made reading her true mood difficult. I had the distinct impression she was being sarcastic again. She probably was. “Just a change of scenery, huh?”

“Maybe a bit more than just that,” I said. “I’m kind of on unfamiliar ground here.”

She let her hidden eyes linger on me for a long moment. The rest of her face had gone into a neutral stillness that told me nothing. “Well, okay then. Tell you what. Stick with me, Twilight, and I’ll make sure you know the territory. And I guarantee you a night like you’ve never had before.”

“I…” I paused, thinking it over. It seemed as if my streak of finding accommodating ponies to help me with my journey was continuing. Yet, my first instinct was to turn her down. I examined where that feeling came from, and it stemmed from my overall uncomfortableness with the whole situation. I’m not just talking about the club, though that was a big part of it. I’m talking about the fight with Twilight’s parents, the days of cooping myself up and drinking to stupor every night. I wasn’t going to turn her down because I didn’t think she would be a good pony to give me the ins and outs of clubbing, but because Twilight’s memories and remembered emotions said that I should be leaving. Getting out of a situation with so many new ponies and secluding myself in a library. It’s what she would have done. She would have found it all confusing and tiring. Small, intimate parties she could get. A packed, impersonal, bass-thumping dance club like this? She wouldn’t have seen the point, and it would make her uncomfortable and awkward. I was remembering that discomfort and echoing it. It wasn’t mine.

The moment I came to that conclusion, of course, was the moment I couldn’t stand to give in to it. “I’d love that,” I told Vinyl. And so my night began.

Author's Note:

True word count: 21,369. Days 1-14 covered.