In the previous chapter, I referred to the fact that the world was starting to seem vaguely familiar to me. I now feel the need to dedicate a passage to explain myself. If this is to become a proper guide for another reincarnated individual such as myself to follow, regardless of how unlikely such a thing is to occur, then they must be made fully aware of all the tools at their disposal. I am of the firm belief that knowledge is power and that it is my sworn duty to share as much of it as I can, regardless of how much of it I hoard for myself. Maybe my form is appropriate...
That having been said though, I don’t believe I’m the most qualified individual to be discussing scientific theory like I’m about to. The science fiction genre was more my husband’s fancy, not mine. For a tailor, he was surprisingly well versed in a variety of both fictional and non-fictional scientific concepts and ideas. We would casually chat about them now and then, to pass the time while one of us worked. We watched films about it together with our children as well, in our humble little home in the suburban of Minnesota where the Lake was always sparkling and the snow always came early and where we were a happy family together always smiling even during the dark times and of God oh God oh God you sick bastard bring them back to me bring them back BRING THEM BACK BRING THEM BACK BRI-
I’m sorry for the illegible second half of the page you were just forced to skip over; full of scribbles, lines, enough ink to make a squid blush, and soiling watermarks. I spilled my inkwell over by mistake and accidentally spat my drink out in surprise. I assure you, there… There was nothing important written there. Nothing lost; just the ramblings of an old yet youthful, paradoxical woman. Please ignore them…
... Returning to the subject at hand hoof, I will now be attempting to explain a scientific concept that may or may not be fictional. Considering what I will be explaining afterward, this seems like a reasonable thing to do.
First of all, let me cover what a multiverse is.
I’m assuming you know what a universe is; the collection of everything that ever is and ever was in our shared reality? Well, the multiverse is what lies beyond everything that ever is and ever was in our shared reality. This plane of existence is just one of many in a multiverse, while my homeworld and the universe it resides in are another plane entirely. I know for a fact that it doesn’t lie in this universe simply for the fact that magic does not exist there, at least not in the same capacity as it does here.
Now then, with that explained, I will now cover a subject that's a bit more advanced than the last, again thought up by my husband. If the universe contains everything we know, and the multiverse contains that and everything else, then one has to wonder where we “stack up” in relation to our universal neighbors, correct? Where we reside in the grand scheme of things; who came first and who last? In the case of there being two Equestrias, which is the "real" one? Here is my take on the subject; what I’ve come up with using the evidence I’ve gathered throughout my twin lives.
I’ve dubbed it: The Stacked Multiverse Theory.
Here is the theory in essence; our universe is bumped up against numerous others. We have neighbors above us, to the sides, and below us. The ones next to us can be described as mirror dimensions; worlds and lands that resemble our own uncannily, but contain little details that set it apart from the Equestria we know and love. Maybe Prince Solaris was sent to the moon a thousand years ago and Nightterror Nebula ruled over us ever since instead. Maybe your loved one was never born, or your elder sibling was instead your younger. Maybe everypony is a filly where here they are a colt, or perhaps the whole dimension is simply three minutes ahead of our own. The possibilities are endless, but it is still our Equestria in a sense.
Our neighbors below us are a different story though, literally.
If you're still reading this at this point then it is safe to assume that you've accepted the fact that what I’ve been writing is true, no matter how ridiculous it might seem at times. Keeping this in mind, it is with a straight face that I now tell you that the beloved foal book character, Harriet Trotter, is real. Dashing Dare is real as well. That silly colt comic book team, the Power Ponies, is also real. Every fictional character you’ve ever read, ever written, or ever thought up in your entire life is real. Every, single, one. Their dimensions, their worlds, their lives all exist below our own, constantly being watched by us without either party being fully aware of the fact. Down there we exist as outside gods; beings of immense power that hold dominion over their entire existence. With the single swipe of my quill, I could transform every one of them into a completely new character. Harriet to Harry, Dashing to Daring, colts to fillies; the possibilities are again endless.
Just like our mirrored neighbors beside us.
Have I painted an appropriate picture for you, reader? Did I succeed in showing you the parallels? Dashing Dare is a storybook character we read about in this world while below us he is his own pony, living his own life. Beside him is Daring Do, his mirrored sister, living her own life as well. Even though she is a pony I’ve only just introduced to your mind, she has already lived her own life on her own long before her inception. She might even be an old mare by now, watching her grandfoals embark on adventures of their own. All this is true in a multiverse; all events that can happen will happen all, at, once.
I said that we held dominion over it all but in reality we do not. All we do is simply create these worlds. Life takes its course all by itself after that, recycling lord knows how many souls to accomplish the task. Simply attempting to imagine it all renders me breathless, as if I'm suddenly staring into the maw of a chasm whose bottom I can never hope to see. It’s a staggering prospect; anything and everything is no longer impossible or possible, all at the same time.
Chaos.
That’s the only way to describe it.
Pure, unfiltered, chaos.
From this chaos, I would like to now share with you a single story.
A simple story about harmony, family bonds, growing up, life in general, and, most importantly, friendship.
This is the story of My Little Pony, Friendship is Magic.
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Knock knock knock…
“Eep!” I gasp, having been taken by surprise. Blinking blankly, it takes me a moment longer than it should have to realize that someone was knocking at the door. Hastily blowing on my journal lightly just enough to dry the ink, and just enough to not accidentally set it on fire, and then quickly close the tome and stash it inside of a drawer on the desk. “C-come in!” I speak in a rush, as I quickly place a new book upon the desk and opening it to a random page.
A tired-looking Dusk Shine soon enters the room, his eyes heavy and his movements sluggish.
“Barb?” he asks in between yawns. “What are you still doing up?”
I make a show of shrugging passively and returning my attention to the book before me. “I assume the same reason as you; reading.”
“Oh…” the stallion says with another yawn, shuffling his way towards his bed beside me. “Guess that’s reasonable,” he replies with all the grace of a sloth, crashing muzzle first into his pillow. With now muffled words he tries to retort with a “Baby dragons need their sleep though, young...” another yawn. “Lady…”
“I’ll retire to my basket once my piqued curiosity is satisfied,” I answer with some of the advanced Ponish I recently picked up.
“When will that be?” Dusk questions, his face still being smothered by the fluffy purple pillow.
“When either the stallion colts up and admits his feelings or the mare starts looking elsewhere,” I reply with a wave a claw over the romance novel I had apparently been reading all night long.
“Oh,” he responds through the pillow once more. “So, never then...?”
I nod my head, and answer with a noncommittal “Probably.”
Dusk nods his own purple head as well, burying it deeper into his pillow. “I see… zzzzzzzz…”
The sound of the stallion's snoring is all I need to hear to confirm that my friend would no longer be an issue tonight. Quietly I set the book aside (as in, into my sleeping basket. I might actually want to read this one later, after all…) and pull my journal back out; the coffee in my system allowing me to stay awake longer than normal. ‘Twas a glorious day when I was at last able to build back up my old tolerance for the stuff.
As I open the tome up again and move my writing instruments back to where they once were, I spare Dusk’s sleeping form a glance. A giggle escapes me as I soon notice that the silly pony accidentally left his saddlebags on in his sleep-deprived haste to return to bed. Just a quietly as how I had pulled my journal back out, I jump out of my chair and approach the stallion's side. Carefully I remove his bags and set the heavy things down with a soft thump against the floor. “An assistant's work is never done, I suppose,” I sigh tiredly to myself.
It takes me a solid five minutes to return every book to where they belong on the shelves. Magic theory in the magic wing, alchemy in the alchemy, history in history, etc. Having done such daily for quite a long time, I know these shelves like the back of my han-, er, claw.
I made sure to leave the new book in the bag though, the one I had snuck in there this morning. It took me awhile to save up the bits to afford it, my allowance being about what I used to give my son and his sister before him (Karma, perhaps? Somedays I wonder…), but I eventually managed to get it for him and slip it in with the rest of the books... It appears that he hasn’t touched it yet though. He must have had a different subject on his mind today… oh well. I suppose that’s just fine.
Distracting him with it was just half of my intention for buying it, after all.
Pop pop
The sound my joints make as I pop them rings out in my fin-shaped ears as I prepare to return to writing. Crawling back up into my seat, after of course covering the pony with a blanket, I look over at Dusk Shine one last time as he slept…
“Zzzzzzz…”
... found myself only able to smile warmly…
… and then I peacefully return to my secret journal.
I wonder what that book is... tune in next time?
What's in the book?
One of the more interesting multiverse theories. Good to see some present slice of life stuff mixed in with journal writing, it gives it more life.
Hm... I wonder. As much as Barb is an adult woman trapped in a child's body... the fact that she hasn't been able to cope with the loss of her family after years, and that when she was younger she would react exactly like an infant would...
Is she... still influenced by the emotions and reactions of being a child? Even with the experience/memories she is remembering?
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I don't feel the need to put a spoiler tag on this; yeah, she is. As much as her memories have shaped her into, well, herself, she still has the physical mind and body of a child. She's only currently worried about the body though, as cited last chapter with her assumption that her second time through puberty will be unpleasant. Her infantile behavior earlier on, her momentary lapses as seen here, her youthful antics portrayed later; these are all clues that it has also been affecting her mind...
but Barb herself hasn't noticed, or she's simply choosing to ignore the facts.
I'm still tinkering around for ways to convey all this through the journal's writings; my current weapon of choice being the use of
slashed wordsslashed words. Although I have the story structured out and the ending settled, the fun part of this particular fic of mine is the challenge I find in trying to convey the thoughts and feelings of a character who doesn't acknowledge her own flaws! It's a nice distraction from my other current, almost complete projects.Happy holidays, btw
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The latest volume of The Lusty Argonian Maid; just in time for Hearth's Warming!
... Nah; it's a mystery that won't be solved right away. Maybe they'll be hints in the chapters to come... if not in the ones currently here, hmmm?
Hope you'll stick around to find out, and hope you'll have a happy holidays
wonderful chapter, great that we are starting to interact with the world in the story. Would love to see how the world changed Barbara into Barb. Great on Brab and Dusk interact. Great to see more from you and happy holidays from where I am from (still Christmas from where I am right now).
Having read this far, I must ask why have the gender flipped versions? Isn't this likely to be confusing enough without that particular aspect of it? (Seriously, is it a preference or does it serve a purpose later on?)
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Both. Preference in the sense that this is the type of character I wanted to write about. Said character better fits my head-cannon of a genderbent Spike than Spike himself, thus is why I decided to go all out with a genterbent world. And it will serve a purpose much later on. Until then, as Barb's actions start to closely fit Spike's own, I will leave readers to speculate on whether this means that the Spike we know is experiencing something similar to Barb or not.
You stop making the poor woman unhappy!
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... *Looks over at Big Mac from "If you ain't...", OC in A Cog in the Machine, and then Twilight in And then Twilight Exploed* ... Er... I... I-I actually don't know if I can
"piqued" not "peaked"
That's an even worse name than Nightmare Moon. Sorry, had to be said.
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True, but it seems to be the preferred name created by the fandom for him. I don't use the "Nebula" part often, instead opting to refer to him as just "The Nightterror", but the double t thing still gets me. Maybe something like "The NightTerror?" Still really goofy though, hehe.
Seamstresses are female. He's a seamster, or maybe a tailor.
The fact Barb's husband previously is a seamster.....
well I don't do spoilers.
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This is so obvious... How did I miss that ironical detail...
All of a sudden I was hit by Deja Vu, when Barb tucked Dusk in. This fic isn't marked as read, and I did read stuff on the site for maybe a year before making an account...
Or maybe the passage was just eerily similar to another story. For some reason it is making me think of a bad end, but it's all vague.
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Oh interesting; it's been so long since I wrote this passage I wonder if I was influenced by something at the time?
Also, as a side note after re-reading this chapter... WOW I used to write Barb so much differently five years ago 0_0 Her writing has stayed mostly the same over the years, but her vocabulary shrunk considerably once she and Dusk moved to Ponyville at the start of the sequel. That's fascinating to me, as it was probably around this point when I made the conscious decision to expand her story as I did.
A remnant of what was once a one off tale, I suppose
said that we held dominion over it all but in reality we do not. All we do is simply create these worlds; life takes its course all by itself after that, recycling Solaris knows how many souls to accomplish the task. Simply attempting to imagine it renders me breathless, as if I am suddenly staring into the maw of a chasm whose bottom I can never hope to see. It’s a staggering prospect; anything and everything is no longer impossible or possible, all at the same time. Chaos; that’s the only way to describe it. Pure, unfiltered, chaos.
Holy moly! You actually tried to express the sublime in this story. Look at me, thinking I was special and deep, when you did it just as well years ago! Sheesh
Duuuude, that part where Barb touched up on her own multiverse theory is awesome as all hells!
And I also love how the language between her journal entries and the real world narration differs. It creates a good contrast between the fabricated confident language of literary english and the whimsier and candid "real world" narration.
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I see what you did there
Glad you're enjoying the story so far! I'm still quite proud with the interpretation of the multiverse I shared here, as it's really helpful to keep in mind while exploring all the wild nonsense that happens later in The Poisoned series.
I hope you'll stick around for more
If you play this through the auto reader on your phone, the auto reader makes a sound. Like it's taking a quick breath. This startled and intrigued me so that I had to share it with any who might find it interesting. The quote is at the very end of the chapter so it's easy to find!
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Huh, neat!
When I was first writing this story years ago, I wasn't editing it as intensely as I do nowadays where I run the whole chapter through a text-to-speech program first before finalizing. Bet if I did I would have caught it.
Thanks for pointing this out