A Liar, A Cheat: Exploiting An Arrival

by Governor-BOA

Chapter 1: Paying Attention, Not For Hours

A Liar, A Cheat: Exploiting An Arrival

By Governor BOA

Note: MLP:FIM is owned by Hasbro

Chapter 1: Paying Attention, Not For Hours

For someone who was never born with much musical skill and had only a passable voice, to have improved as well as I did was no easy feat. I had a couple hundred fans who had been able to help me live as a musician and song producer for myself. Through the internet and it's patronage sites, I owed my entire full career to it.

The day was the 10th of March and the year was 2018, I had been making a couple of remixes to several different artists. The songs were to be the music to hold over until I was able to have my microphone repaired: maybe even get a new one if I brought in enough.

Everything had been done on a laptop I paid for with the inheritance money my grandparents had left, a laptop and several hard drives. The only other thing I could have bought after was a decent quality flight case, of which I spent an extra few months saving up for to add any further reinforcement to. The OS I was using had been a variant of Linux and only due to the fact it had been faster than anything Microsoft was providing and didn't tie me down like Apple would have.

All the software I used would have been too much for most to understand, but for me it was for the comfort of knowing I had something somewhere what might work for a song, remix or equipment test.

The album I had planned did have some of my own songs on it, granted I could not include vocals, but it only meant I had to put more time into working on better instrumentals. For someone who tried to go big or starve in the process, it had led to a near ten minute piece in which I had tried to make a classical inspired rock instrument piece. Let it be known I had made five versions of this and each had so far not been what I envisioned.

Now was the day I had made it seven minutes through my piece and found nothing which I hated in it; it was also the day in which I would be playing a small local gig in my neighbourhood pub. I had agreed to DJ at the place after the last person pulled out and because my family had finally bought the building and not just owned the license. I was also getting a couple hundred and free drinks for the remainder of that week, there would be no complaints with me: a pint is a pint and money can be hard to come by.

The day went well, around two in the morning we were finally able to power down and say our farewells. My mom and the second person I had called my stepdad both recommended that I stay in one of the spare rooms above the pub, this was around three and I may have had more to drink than I kept track of. I lived a few streets, a main road and a few streets more away, for sober me it would take fifteen...at most twenty minutes to get home.

I objected and had myself, with the flight case, wandering down the roads I had so many times been down. The local councils were never that good with maintaining the street lights so I saw some going an orange-red colour so common with their deaths, and occasionally I passed under some which maintained their warmer brighter colour.

I was enjoying the peaceful stroll through a residential housing block three streets from my house. It was relatively peaceful and offered time to reflect on my life, something alcohol commo--

Two twig thin addicts from number eight, of course they were out at this time. Of course they would be right on my side of the road and heading towards me. And of course one would gesture me to stop. The two must have been on a hybrid drug since the last time I saw them, how their faces looked now gave the Fallout ghoul race a run for it's money as disturbing.

"Hassan, Matt, everything alright?"

The first of the men, the Pakistani looking Hassan, didn't share my merry tone, instead coming as more threatening, "Look! We need whatever is in that case of yours and we need it now!"

"You want a laptop that has a part value of twenty quid at best, and a case that is actually obsolete."

"Nice try, we need that case and now," came the midlands sounding Matt, with a more naturally threatening voice.

I then continued my bluff, but this time more reasoned, "Some idiot smashed it with a pool cue, and the same idiot spilled my pint on it, I'd be lucky to get anything off that thing. You really think I would walk around with something worth a tonne, at this time of night, unless it was trashed.

"Now if you don't mind, I have to worry about how I'll pay my bills, especially with my job gone in a trashed computer."

I tried to leave and cross the street, but no. And this time they looked to get physical. So, being the one who had to get the first blow, I swung the case at Matt's head. Whatever I had done gave me the time to run off. Before turning onto another street I did look back. Hassan had ran off and Matt was in the street and bleeding from his head. I checked around, houses were quiet and no cameras lined the streets. Rub off the case, the corner held nothing that could be seen.

With that I bolted off with more awareness than what some had sober. I only slowed down on my own street when I stopped to rest against a tree on the side of the road. I think everything had finally hit me as I blacked out. I was five doors from my house and I blacked out, clutching my case and it's precious contents with all of my might.

I did come around, as expected it was no longer night or the evening. It seemed to be midmorning or late lunch. My head was being strangled of cognition from whatever I had put into myself that night before. I must have had alcohol injected into my brain and my H2O in my blood swapped with it also. Nothing to blame for me blacking out, from how it felt, I could have done something to my liver and it would make absolute sense.

I was in some bed, it was not a hospital, that was clear. Hospital beds have a certain unique feel that you only understand if you've had to sleep in one. I also deduced it was not a cell as the feel did not fit from what I understood cells provided. Oh great. I now owed a neighbour a favour again, should have just sta...

The laptop! My head was given more pressure to it as I shot up to see if it was near. It was, it was just by the door in the casing. The room I was in, now I understood something else, it looked like a typical hotel room. Typical in the sense it was a slightly more expensive typical room. It had the bland decor, the view into what musthave been a kitchen, living and dining room hybrid. It also looked as though the door had been left open as for someone to che...

Hold on.

My town has no hotels, my town borders a hell that everyone tries to flee from. The only things around are in the nearest cities. How...

I must have forgotten everything and gone on a deep night party spree, headed into a nearby city and got a hotel with someone. Maybe I was so drunk I actually got the confidence or ignorance to be able to talk someone into a one-night stand in a hotel room. The only thing that made it worse was thinking, how much has this cut into my bank account, how much saving will I have to do now.

I'll wait until this hangover ends before I try anything, and I slid myself under the two pillows the bed came with. The last thing I thought, which I soon brushed off was, did I at least leave my clothes at the side of the bed.

Sound awoke me this time, but my eyes had been put under orders to not cause me any more suffering until my brain said it was alright to open. The noise I heard was a question from someone who held a voice so British that I felt as though I was a foreigner.

"How do you feel?"

"If you came in earlier and asked that, I'd say that case, several times around the head. Then the case twice to my stomach and liver. Take two hits away and from each and you have my answer."

"You don't sound like you come from around here, am I right?"

"Depends on how far I've gone. I shouldn't be more than a couple train stops away, unless I really did go far last night."

"You have no idea of where you are?" the concerned voice asked.

"It would be the second time this happened in the past few years, last time I blacked out and ended so far North that I had to wait for snow to be cleared from the train tracks to get back. From what it sounds, if I sound odd, I think I've gone further South than I ever have."

I then asked the woman speaking to me, "How much do I need to take out, I'm certain I never had enough to pay for a room here, let alone this room."

"You shouldn't worry about that, my friend covered it for us."

"That's not the point, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for a few mistakes and you're down on money."

"The two of us are rather well off; a cellist and a DJ are not exactly low paying careers around here. If it were about money, it's not exactly like either would lose out in any way."

"Okay, I'll give in if it's not going to do more harm than good. After last night, I am in no condition to argue with you on that."

The upper class woman gave a response as something confirming that it was really no bother.

It was only then that she decided to say, "I will say that you were hard to separate from that case of yours, but I am glad to say you only had marks from how it dug into you."

"What I have in there is exactly why I wouldn't let go, especially given how much I put into it. If you want an idea of how much I spent then my analogy is this, 'it in itself was beyond my reach outside of a decent sized inheritance.' It was worth a decent percentage of my house before the market in my area went up."

That elicited an 'oh' of surprise before I was then told something of the two being asked if I wanted anything. I replied with water and jokingly said something in regards to some tablets for my ever painful hangover. Whilst not paying attention much to what I said, I did catch a small moment of chuckling from one of my current saviours.

I soon awoke again, this time it was in the evening, the sky said it all. An almost completely drunk glass of water laid on the bedside table and an opened pack of what looked like head pain medication. Another welcome surprise was my head was in a resoundingly better state and offered me the opportunity to see without screaming at me.

This room was much nicer than lesser me had considered, there were detailed walls with upper class wallpaper, albeit in a light colour so the earlier sun had offered to hide it from me. I must have been such a fun guest, sleeping the entire day and sleeping through those two friends money. I don't care whether they were fine with this or could afford it, if they got me in somewhere like this they were being too generous.

Now, if I were correct, the time out may be around half six to half seven. The train is normally arriving at half eight. If I leave now I could find the local train to the midlands and still make it home in time to go to the pub and have at least two drinks: maybe I could even record some instrumentals or get the ten minute one over with. At least getting back had to happen, I would no longer be bothering that nice woman and her friend.

Before I did anything, just to make sure my eyes were working, I went to clear any possible obstructions of filth from my eyes. I didn't take the subtle differences in my arms, I'd been wasted before and I always found my limbs wanted to hibernate the alcohol overconsumption, and brushed it off as me still paying for my idiotic episode.

What in all that's holy!

Hooves!

I, Jack Aston, have silver-grey hooves!

Silver-grey hooves where my ha...

My eyes darted for a mirror. The right side of the bed held a dresser with a mirror from which I could see the who other side of the room.

I was a light silver-grey pon...unicorn.

Okay. Don't overreact. You still have your, near-black, brown hair. From how close the mirror actually is, it looks like you're still one of the green eye community: just more clearly a green eye person. Now that sounds like an infection or weird breed.

Okay, still slightly amused myself. That's no different. That's...

I fell back on to the bed as the next thought raced through my head. I blacked out and ended up in the alternate reality where Friendship is Magic is not a show but real life.2016 Jack certainly would be pleased if fandom overexposure was not the equivalent of radiation to the metaphorical flesh body of passions.

...

Then why a Brit--

Octavia.

Cellist and DJ. Octavia and Vinyl Scratch...

They don't know I'm a, correction to was a, human.

So...plan. How do I even survive long enough to get back home?

First thing first, all they know me as, so I know myself, is that I was a drunk pony who knows not of how I came here. Aside from that, I am as normal as any other pony at first glance.

Now back to my question.

If memory serves, they do somewhat contain the mad folk. If memory also serves, as long as I never meet the one 4chan calls hatpone then I may be able to keep this all secret. Also, if memory serves, all I need to do is find a way with magic or a portal back.

Wait...I'm a pony. That means I'm not naturally bipedal...

My entire plan rests on being like a normal pony, yet I am not even sure I can walk easily as a quadruped without digits for balance. I don't think they would buy the cripple angle, given they found me in the streets and without any sign of being one. I also think that 'I forgot how to walk' might not be in my favour. No time like the present to teach yourself the basic thing everyone learns in life if they're born normal.

I left the safe confines of the bed to the side where the mirror was. On all fours I bore witness to something shocking. I soon turned gay for myself, the gods had placed me here but at least gave me a better body than my human one. There was truly a hidden beast under those sheets earlier, one who could be human Jack's daddy any day.

I give myself a month before I begin to look like my actual equivalent again. But for now I see why some cultures would eat me, I'm a multi-course meal and probably hiding des...

Walk now, selfcest horseplay thoughts later.

The first few steps were uncomfortable.

The next few were cautious.

By the time I had arrived at my case it felt normal. Now I understand nature a bit more. Now I understand, in a way I can't explain, how easy walking comes to things at birth. But it sort of made sense in one way I reasoned it, I have a well wired body and decently operating muscles, of course signals would be able to help replicate walking so easily.

Now yes I was a unicorn, yes I had the capability for magic, but that needed to be self-taught. And...how would...magic grip. If...Rainbow...Dash...can hold a cup with a hoof, let's see how well or how long it takes me to understand this grip thing.

I reached out to grab the case. To my moderate surprise, I was able to reach AND grab the handle of it and have a relatively good grip. Now it was not the best, but it was a grip and it was serviceable.

Okay, basic understandings of life are both passes. All I need is a name. I can't use something too human, so my persona Robert is gone, Jack is definitely gone (Unless I can find a way of working it as a nickname), Will could work in some way.

You came up with a musicians alternate name, you sh...

Could Basileus work? Could the Byzantine emperor title work? I get the posh sounding Basil as nickname. If I ever had to enlist I could become this worlds Basil the Bulgar Slayer. Basileus... Come on...you did a Greek course because of your obsession with the...

I argued with my brain for metaphorical hours before I relented, retreated to the mirror and directed my eyes near where I would let myself enter. Life gave me another bout of luck as I had a...cutie mark? Was that was this was called? Anyway, it was like the logo from one of the programmes I used to make music on. It was a mixer and the digital board for the instruments. A general music mark...

Most names hold something similar to the marks. My name is somewhat Greek in origin. Maybe I should...the Greek for music... Mousiki.

My nickname might end as Mao...

Shivers from the dead of that name became my own.

How about Basileus Mousiki? Not all names have a significant part in the first, the last sort of works if the first doesn't with most ponies. Please don't betray me memory.

I took in a breath and announced, to my mind alone, "From henceforth I shall be known as Basileus Mousiki. I am Basileus Mousiki, a twenty-one year old from...somewhere North of here and of where I cannot remember. I will be someone who shall appear a man...stallion who now only seeks to start life with what little he continues to 'remember' from his past. No one will ever know until I can get home."

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