Flitter Hope: or How I learned to Live

by Masters-of-the-Elements

First published

I wasn't all to surprise when I turned into a pony, but after an event with my stepsister, I hit the road. But I'm not going to New York. instead, I going to find others like me and help if I can. Wish me luck

It has been a few weeks, or sub-weeks as I had gone to calling them, since the whole world went crazy. But I wasn't scared when I found myself a pony, mainly because my stepsister had changed before me. I tried to perpare myself for the change, but even when it happened, I wasn't as readied as I thought I would be.

Still, after a few events involving my sister, I left with a problem...what do I do now? Do I go to New York, and see what this person-turned-pony can do? Or do I go against the grain and see what I can do for the other ponyfolk out there?

Whatever I decided, I know this...my small live is not going to be to be the Same.

A Not So Awkward Morning

View Online

Flittering Hope:
Or How I learn to Live
Chapter 1:
A Not so awkward Morning


Before the change that seems to affecting everyone around the world, I wasn’t anyone to talk home about. I was a 29 going on thirty-year-old living with my mother, stepfather, and stepsister due to my mother’s health issue, my step-dad’s job, and other things I don‘t feel like talking about right now. I work a simple, eight-to-five job, and make enough for simple things like a car, and a low grade smart-phone. I sometime even help out around my town, but I’m not a big social bug, nor am I anti-social either. I just don’t like big crowds that much.

But I think I’m starting to get a little off point here. Let start from where my life went from normal to semi-normal, and then totally crazy in short order. It was a normal day; I don’t know what day as I had stopped counting when a single week gained the length of a year. All I knew it was been three weeks, or sub-weeks as people and ponies of my small town call them, since the creator of “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic” and the lead actress of show found themselves as the show’s princesses respectively.

I was shocked when my sister showed me that little video link, but I quickly used my little calming method and began to see this from a different angle. It figures that the show’s creator and it lead voicing talent would change into the princesses, it just seem natural for them to end up in those forms. After all, they were the creators and the pillar of that world, right? So, if we were looking at it from an angle, two things stick into my front of my mind. First; the change was happening at random, and second; the change was more organized and whatever was changing people was turning them into ponies best suit for them, or base on some sort of inner trait that no one else is aware of.

But since this probably Discord’s handy working, I believe the first one is the correct one.

Oh, I’m rambling again, aren’t I? Sorry about this, but that’s just how I am. When I see something I had to pick it apart, and look it over. I once even post a thread on a FIM form that Discord could have easily defeated the Mane Six if he had sent one of them to the farthest corner of the world that Equestria’s on. Or he could had taken the elements of Harmony and sent them farthest corners of the world, that way it would take mouths if not years for Twilight and her friends to find them. And I know it a cartoon, and needed a happy ending, but still if one thinks about it, he could have easily won if one uses one of those two mentioned methods.

Oh, I’m doing it again…bad Mike Anderson, bad. Don’t make me get the newspaper and spank myself. I know, I know, it sounds wrong no matter how you hear at it, but it’s the only way I knew of how to get my head on straight when I begin to ramble.

So, let try this a third time. I remember waking up to the buzzing of my alarm clock, and looked up at the nightstand were the item makes its home. Oh, and I forget to mention that I was in a sleeping bag. No, my bed wasn’t broken; I was just sleeping on my floor due to my own paranoid habits. Since the problems with my sister, I figure I would change sooner or later, and decided sleep on me floor. After all, I didn’t want to have the problem of getting out of bed when or if I change, now did I?

‘NEWSPAPER,’ a voice suddenly screamed back in my head.

I gave my head a quick shake and looked up. I frown when I noticed that my nightstand was higher then it should have been. Well, it happened, just like I figure it might, and to my own discredit, I did feel some fear swell up in me. I couldn’t push it down either as I looked where my hands are supposed to be and saw a grayish blue stump had replaced it. I couldn’t stop my fears as I struggle to get out of my sleeping bag, and get a better looked at my body. My fears only get worse when I finally pulled myself from my bag and get a good look at my new body. It has the same color coat as my stumps or hooves, and I see the three dragonflies on my ramp or flank, as the case would be, and frown. I also noticed the wings, meaning I was a Pegasus now. So what kind of pegasus pony has that kind of Cutie Mark?

Unfortunately, the fear was causing my usually calm and rational mind to lock up, and I couldn’t think straight. I took several deep breaths to try and calm myself, and decided it was time to get up. So, I rolled over to my stomach, and slowly put my hooves under me. I then slowly began to push myself up.

I would like to take this time to say some things; when it happened to stepsister, I decided to try and walk on all four, just incase it happened to me. And I can tell you this, a waste of two hours of my day!

First, even as human walking on all fours, the center of gravity on my human body was on the lower half. So to find your body with a center of gravity actually located at the center makes all the difference. Second, when you’re an adult male walking on your hands and knees, you’re still sub-consciously putting weight onto your legs to support your upper body. So, yeah, spending two hours walking on my hands and knees was a complete waste of a good three days.

‘NEWSPAPER,’ screamed the little voice in back of my head.

Well…I will spare you the detail of my failure at learning how to walk again, if you don’t count the numerous face plants and once nose dove into a large box of Magic: The Gathering cards and you got my morning. Finally, after creating a method, ironically, base on DDR, I was able to walk around clumsily. After ten minutes of walking, and getting the basics, I was confident enough to walk up to an full body mirror I had set up three days in advance, just in case.

I frown as I looked at my new mane, noticing how straight it was and how it went down side of my left eye, and hang in the air. The mane’s coloring was a lighter from of blue, maybe lilac, but I can’t be certain for a sure; I never have been good with colors. I looked at my new tail and noticed it was in the same style as my mane. I looked back at my reflection, and tried to put where I seen this pony’s face before.

My new deep grayish blue eyes widen even-so-slightly as I finally put a name with the face I was seeing. Flitter...that was the name that went with this pony’s body I was now in. She was a background pony whom appeared in the middle of the second season, with her friend, Cloudchaser. About the only thing that was missing was the pink bowtie that she wears.

“Now this is just too weird, even if I was expecting it,” I would admit, hearing my voice, and it not being my own was a little unsettling.

I would probably continuing poundering my new voice, if a suddenly noise didn’t reached my ears, causing them to moved in that direction. Yeah…I’m now thinking that those last three days of preparing myself was really a waste of time. I just couldn’t get use to this body and its functions. Still, the noise I just heard was in the front of my mind, and I could think of one person who could have caused it.

So, with a light sigh I looked away from the mirror and was about to leave. Oh, almost forget about that universal annoyance called an alarm clock. So, with another light sigh, I changed my direction and went over to my night stand. Instead of trying to get to the annoying device itself, I instead walked over to the expose right side of my stand, and with my right hoof, opened a little catch. I proudly watched as a clever design of my own invention went to work, and if I done it right, a small stump should hit the snooze button, until I could shut off the device myself.

And…I felt a number of things hit my flank. I looked behind to see small things, like my TV remote, and my phone had fallen off. Oh, and there was the clock, hanging over the edge, and still ringing. I frown curiously as I thought over my design. Clearly I did something wrong, if things fell off instead of a button being hit, like how I wanted it. Oh well, I’m a writer, not a gadget guy.

With a light shrug, or what passes for shrug in this body, I gently tip the snooze button with my left hoof, and was about to leave my room, thankful that I left the door open. I was about to leave, when I spotted something on the floor. I looked down, and to my surprise, it was a pink bowtie, just like the one that the pony I have becomes wears. I frown in thought, as I tried to remember what else was on my nightstand that could have probably changed into that. It didn’t take much thought, and I realized that the bowtie must have change from a black bandana I take great pride in.

It was the only thing that made sense, when I thought it. That bandana was gift from my late father, and I pretty much consider it a part of myself. And no, I don’t wear it because I have or had a thinning hairline. Nope, that’s not the reason at al…nope, nope, nope, nope, nope…

‘…NEWSPAPER,’ my scolding voice said in the back of my head.

Oh…right, noise and all. I almost left, but something in the back of my mind told me to do something with that bowtie. I eyed it lazily, knowing full well that I could never get into my hair, or mane without hands. And that left me with only one course of action, now matter how disgusting it was. I gulped as I lean down, taking note how flexible my neck had become, and took the item into my teeth.

Suddenly, I tasted strawberries, and my first thought was to spit out the bowtie. I was terribly allergic to strawberries, and I didn’t to suffer some sort of reaction, when I wasn’t in my own body. I immediately relax when that thought hit me. I wasn’t in my own body anymore, and thereby probably didn’t have my allergies either. Plus, this thing just tasted like the accursed fruit, which meant it probably just some sort of artificial favoring, not the real thing.

So with a light sigh around the item, I finally left my room. Thankfully, we live in a single story house. That would save me the embarrassment of having to figure out how to get down stairs, or worse, learning how to use these new wings. I did, however, stopped at a door not to far from my own. I took a seat in front of the door and carefully put the bowtie to my right and frown slightly as I looked at the door.

“Sara…? It’s Mike,” I said after a moment of hesitation.

I lean in closer, trying to hear anything, and I was answered with a soft, barely above a whisper whimper. My frown grew as I pulled my head away.

“Listen, I know I sound different, but it’s really me,” I said, trying to sound helpful. “I just wanted to let you know that you’re not in this alone anymore, and if there’s another you need, you can ask your big sister.”

I had added the big sister part as humor, hoping it would ease the stress my stepsister was feeling. Unfortunately all I got from her was a whimper, even softer then the last time. I would have missed it if it wasn’t for my pony ears keeping it up. I decided to leave my stepsister alone for the time being, and want to investigate the other sound.

I picked up the bowtie and continue down the hall, stopping over to give the door a final gaze. No one, rather they’re people, ponies, or people-turned-into-ponies should have to go through what my stepsister went through. I just hope that she will recover soon.

With a light sigh, muted through the bowtie, I faced forward and began to walk again. Even though my house is a single-story, doesn’t mean it small, and with my small body is felt even larger then before. It odd, when I think about it…yesterday I was just a normal adult, tempororily living with his family while my mother recovers, and now it was like I’m a stranger in the place I grew up in. It was both exciting and chilling at the same time, and one thought I didn’t want to think about.’

Finally, after a near two minute walk, I reached the kitchen, and was feeling really proud of myself. I was feeling far more comfortable in this pony body and was considering going for a short run later. I might even try flying to, if the weather was good enough. My mood was instantly ruined when I saw the one person in the kitchen that I didn’t want to see. I let out a deep angry sigh and caused the bowtie fell to the ground.

“MOM!! What do you think you’re doing?” I asked in a bit of angry/slight worry.

chapter two: My Mother, The injured joker

View Online

Flittering Hope:
OR how I learn to Live
Chapter 2:
My Mother, the Injured Joker



To her credit, Karen Gale wasn’t surprise when she saw me. In fact, all she did was size me up slightly, and then went back to buttering the whole wheat bread she was holding. I huff a puff of air in anger, and walked up to her. I gave the metal cane resting against the counter a side-way glance and looked at my mother, glaring at her.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” I asked in a stern voice.

She looked down at me, and I notice a mischievous glee sparkling in her eyes but her face was stoic. I can admit this, even if it’s only to myself but I fear my mother to a certain level. She was one of five people I would never want to meet when she’s in a bad mood. I wouldn’t want to deal with her even when she could barely walk.

“I was thinking of some toast for breakfast and maybe some green tea,” my mother replied casually. “You’re Michael, right.”

It wasn’t a question, more like a statement, really. I didn’t care at the moment. I took a seat and put my front hooves on my hips, if ponies had hips, that is. I tried to put my trademark scowl on my new pony face, and I saw the sparkle in my mother’s eyes grew. Oh, I did forget to mention that my mother’s somewhat of a joker. I always believed that this was a sorta mechanism that my mother’s uses when she’s worried about something. And with everything that happened to her, her funny bone had gone into overdrive.

Still…I wasn’t about to let her off the hook just because she was feeling adventurous.

“I don’t care if you’re feeling like walking to France,” I said, my voice dropping in pitch. “You know full well that you’re not supposed to be on the leg for long periods! So, I have to ask again…what do you think you’re doing?”

The humor in mom’s eye died a bit after my little outburst, and she sighed faintly. She grabbed her cane, and I watched as she limp slightly over to the table. She winces slightly as she eased herself into a chair. I watched as she tried to rub the tension out of her right leg.

I frown deeply as I looked at my mother. She was involved in a car accident about six months ago. No, she wasn’t in a car during the accident. She was actually walking home from a town meeting. It was a foggy night…I know, I know, cliché but that’s how it happened. Some drunken idiot was driving around, and with the fog clouding his already blurry vision, didn’t see my mother. Luck was with my mom that night, as she heard the vehicle and was tried to jump out of the way. The attempt was only partially successful, and she was able to avoid a fatal blow. Unfortunately, her leg did get clipped on the side of the vehicle, and she went sent flying. The way that my step dad describes it to me, mom was sent flying and landed on the injure leg. Thankful, mom’s tough and was able to endure the pain long enough to get her phone out and call me.

Things only got worse from there, unfortunately. The doctors told my family my mother’s right leg was broken in five different locations. They also said that she was lucky that she wasn’t going to loose the leg. This made my mom happy that she would make a full recovery. But the process would take a long time, we were told. She would need to have several operations and physical therapy over the next few months. Mom, an active woman at 59, didn’t like this one bit. It had taken my step-dad three nights and four days just to convince her to take it easy, and she still a little bitter about it.

That was four months ago, and she is making good progress. Her progress was so good that she doesn’t need to wear a cast anymore, just a heavy boot to keep her leg straight. Of course, there were still limitations. The biggest concern, for me at least, was that mom needed to keep weight off her injured leg. And of course, standing at a counter, bettering toast, wasn’t my idea of getting weight off of it.

I probably would have gotten my little ‘newspaper’ warning soon, if I light sigh hadn’t brought me back to reality. I looked at my mother and noticed the shameful look on her face. The anger mixed with concern I felt at the moment, was instantly cooled, and all that was left was concern.

“What’s wrong, mom?” I asked as I trotted up to her.

She looked at me with a sad smile and said, “I know you’re just looking out for me, but it’s driving me crazy not doing anything. After that last operation, when my cast came off, I thought I was finally going to leave this house.” Her gaze suddenly became far away, and she turned her head to the right, looking down the hall, or trying to. “Plus…I thought I heard a scream about 30 minutes ago.”

I frown lightly as I lean to my right, to look beyond mom, and down the hall myself. I didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to know that my mom was really concern about her stepdaughter. That was one of the things I share with my mother, our views on family. If any one were to insult or hurt any member of my family, blood-related or otherwise, my mother was quick to act, and more then likely that person would get a one way ticket to the ER.

Rule number one; you never mess with the Anderson/Gale family.

“I know you’re worried, mom. So am I,” I said, trying to sound comforting. “But what can we say to make this better? What can I say to ease her pain if I don’t if my words would make it worse? I know this may sound cold, but I think the best we can do now is wait, and see what happens.”

It was a truth, a cold truth, but a truth none the less. And I knew my own mother well enough that she would also see what I see, and know the right time to act, just like I hope I would know the right time to act as well.

Mom was silent for a moment she just continued to look down the hall the best she could. I first thought that she might have taken my words the wrong way, and was preparing to bolt out of here if I need too. My body tense by reflex as mom turned and look at me. She suddenly smiled a sad smile, and patted me on the head, causing my body’s tension to melt.

“You’re right. I mean not like it but you’re right, dear,” mom said in defeat.

I cast my eyes down; feeling like someone had just punched me in the stomach as they tore off my new wings. I really do want to help my stepsister, but it’s like I said…what can I say that wouldn’t make things worse? In the end, all I can do is be there for her when she’s ready, and let her knew that she wasn’t alone in this anymore.

Man, do I hate my brain works sometimes.

“You know, since you’re saying I shouldn’t get up, maybe you can get my breakfast that I left on the counter.” I looked up, and saw the sparkles had returned to my mother’s eyes.

I looked at the table, a light scowl on my face. Now she was just making fun of me, I was sure of it. Still…I wasn’t about to let my mother risk injuring herself anymore. I puffed out my chest and trotted over to the counter. I looked up, and felt some fear swell up in me. I tried to push it back into my mind as I thought over my choices. I could try to stand up and reached for the plate, but would I even reach the counter? I could also try to use my new wings and hover up to there.

I looked at my wings, and frown when I notice something; they had folded in at some point. Weird, I remembered that they were open when I woke up, and left my room. So when did they fold up? I narrowed my brow as I began to study my wings.

Maybe and this is a big maybe, my new body had retain some sort of muscle memory. If that was the case then I might be able use said muscle memory to make my first flight as a pony much easier. I grinned as I thought about soaring high above the air, wind in my new mane, and the worries about the ground left behind. Oh, it did sound wonderful, so wonderful that I was thinking-

‘NEWSPAPER,’ my inner voice screamed to me.

Oh right, I needed to get my mom her breakfast. I wasn’t confident in my wings just yet so I stood on my back legs, and tried to balance myself. Man, talk about awkward. Every single muscle and instinct in my body was screaming for me to stand down, and I wanted nothing more then to listen to them. The muscles in my back legs, while strong enough to support me, were getting stress quickly from having so much weight on them.

How the ponies on the show does this without popping, tearing, or pulling ever single muscles in their back legs I would never now and I don’t think I want to know.

Still, I have a task to perform, and was eager to poof, to myself, that I could do it. I leaned forward, and put my front hooves into the counter side. I was glad that the counter wasn’t that high up, as my head barely reached past it. I was feeling really pleased with myself as I looked at the plate that my mother’s breakfast rested on.

Now comes the hard part. Carrying a piece of fabric in one’s mouth is easy, just as long as no one tried to take it for you. Carrying a plate made out of marble, however, is a different story. A little known fact; some herbivores had some strong jaws, not as strong as predators, mind you, but strong never-the-less. So I leaned down, and carefully took the plate into my jaw. Thankfully, it was just a small plate with two slices of toast.

Man, was that ever a bitter taste. I would take my strawberry bowtie over this taste any day of the week.

I angled my body as I lowered myself back onto all fours, and I walked carefully over to the table. My mom took the plate with a sincere smile, and began to eat. I become aware of a familiar rumble and knew what it meant without looking at the organ making the noise. Mom apparently heard it as well, as she gave me a light glance. I notice the humor in eyes had dimmed slightly, as I give her a sheepish smile.

“There’s some leftover steamed veggies in the fridge,” Mom commented seriously, and went back to her own breakfast.

I must have blinked three times as mother’s words sunk in. I do remember my stepfather making some steamed vegetables for Sera last night. She didn’t eat them, of course, and I didn’t want them to go to waste. I had wrapped them up, and put them into the fridge, incase she wanted them later.

I sigh a bit bitterly as I turned and looked at the fridge. Some part, a large part, of me was hoping she would venture out of her room, and gets the meal. I was starting to get worried about her. Sara really hadn’t eaten much since the incident at school, and that left me feeling helpless. I know I told my mother to wait and see, but every day she stays in there was more weight on my heart. It wouldn’t take much longer before my hear shatters, and I do something I might regret latter on.

I sigh again as I reached the fridge, and let my fear die. First, take care of your needs, and then worry about your stepsister, a little voice in the back of my head advice smartly. All I have to deal with now is trying to get that blasted door open. I suddenly stopped, and blinked four times when I noticed something tied around the handle.

“Wait…” I said voice barely above a whisper, “is that a rope…with a mouth guard at the end?”

My pony ear suddenly snapped to attention and swiveled to my left, where they picked up a sound no human ears could. I realized it was my mother; she was trying to giggle under her breath, and doing a good job at it, too. Of course, she hadn’t realized that my ears are more sensitive, and had picked it up.

Still, I couldn’t help but think back to all the one ups she had on me, and got a little silly thought into my head. As it stands, the score between a mother and her son-turned-daughter is this; mom…10 points, and me…negative 97. I chuckled to myself as I walked up and took the mouth guard into my own mouth.

Man, another bitter taste to deal with. I tried to ignore it as I planted my back hooves into the floor, and pulled with all the strength this new body has. The door opened easily actually, and I needed to jump out of the way to avoid getting hit in my new muzzle.

Note to self…remember that your body is still alien to you, and you should be more careful until you understand it completely. I filed it into the back of my mind, as I looked for the plate of steamed goods. The plate was easy to find, it was on the bottom rack, after all. I grabbed the foil wrapped plate, trying to ignore the taste, and walked behind the door. I turned so my back was facing the front of the door, and with a simple double kick, closed the door.

With my task completed, I returned to the table. Mom was kind enough to take the plate, and set it onto the table as I struggled to push out a chair, and get up in it. It took me about five minutes, but in the end I was seated, and my breakfast was in front of me, begging to be eaten.

Mom has uncovered the plate after she grabbed it from me and now I studied the contents of the plate. It was a light selection really; just some lettuce, cauliflower, and carrots slices. I have never been much in the green scene, but I don’t have a choice here. I wasn’t an idiot who thinks he can go against his body. Yes, I would miss my hamburgers and tacos, but there was nothing I could do about it…for now.

So, I lean down and took a carrot slice into my mouth. The sensation that reached my brain was like nothing I have experience before. It was like I was a little kid again, and I had just tasted my first ice cream bar. It was just so good and tasty that I found myself diving snort first into the delicious meal. The world was dead to me at the moment, even my own mother, who was giggling like a little school girl, was lost to me as I devoured my breakfast in record time.

Once the food was gone and my stomach filled, I lean back into my chair, sighing with contentment. I rubbed my tummy, moaning from the action. Who know that the green scene could be so…filling?

“You know, that’s not exactly the best position for a young lady,” my mother said in mock scolding.

I looked at my mother, and saw that the humor had once again returned. I rolled my eyes as I righted myself into a more formal sitting position. Man, was that ever weird, and something I didn’t feel like going into at the moment.

“First of all, I’m a mare. Second, I’m a boy, no matter what body I’m in,” I said with great pride.

My mother giggle at this, and this caused me to frown slightly. I puff out my chest in, what I hoped, was male pride, and tried to look as manly as possible.

“What’s so funny?” I asked playfully, trying to make my voice lower.

This had the exact opposite affect on mom, and she giggled a little harder, almost going into full blown laughter. Soon, I caught her giggles, and soon joined her. We giggled/semi-laughed for a good three to four minutes before we both settled. The room fell into a comfortable silence as mom sipped on her tea.

Wait…was that already on the table because I don’t remember getting it for her. I thought about it for near 30 second, and then just shrug. I no doubt miss it, and I didn’t know how long my mom was out here before I came.

“So…sweetie, what’s with the bowtie?” mom asked casually.

I looked to where the item landed during my outburst shortly after discovering my mother. I couldn’t stop the light blush that appeared as I looked at mother.

“Oh, that,” I replied, trying to keep my voice even, and failing a little. “It’s an item the character I turned into, wears. I think it was once my black bandana.”

“Hmm…want me to put it on?” she asked off-handedly.

That threw me for a loop, and all I could do was gawk at the woman who is my mother. I looked at the item, and wonder why I even brought that thing out. I actually wanted to forget the thing, and focus on the important things. Unfortunately, that nagging feeling was back, and seems stronger then before. I tried to ignore it but it just wouldn’t leave me alone. Soon, and almost out-of-my-control, I found myself hopping off my chair and trotted up to discarded item. I bent at the neck, and picked it up with me teeth. I then returned to my mother, and she took it from me without a single word being exchanged.

Soon, she began to work, and I just sat there patiently. As this was happening, I couldn’t help but feel like my manhood’s points had just dropped by 5 points.

Hiatus

View Online

I have decided to put this story on hold for a number of reason. The main reason is because someone else had taken the characters that I had planned to use, and being respective person I am, have decided pull this story for submission on the PEV group.

But I haven't given up on this story. I have instead decided to turn this into a homage fic. I will use idea taken from that great group, in a way to honor those amazing writers. So, to the fans who reading this, (no matter how small it is) be paitent while I rework the script a bit.