> Original Complication
>  by Seeking Dusk
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Original Changes
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up because it was getting too bright with that flash of light. Well, that and the sudden awareness that something had forcibly knocked me off the bed. Well, the other way around. Concurrently, actually. One moment I was having a pleasant dream about… something, when a bright flash and a solid blow startled me from dreamland and most of the way into reality. I could feel myself rolling off the bed, and without thinking further on it I tossed aside my blankets and did my best to turn the fall into a tumble.

There were two solid thumps as something else got knocked off the bed by my frantic and largely ineffective flailing, but I managed to hit the carpeted floor in a mostly deliberate fashion; on a leg, a knee and a hand, the other thrashing wildly in the air in a likely ineffective and equally likely quite comical fashion in a futile display of self defense. 

“Wazzahuhmuma- I’m awake!” I exclaimed at the person who knocked me out of bed. My world span for a moment, a side effect of my hasty rise, and I staggered slightly, a bit woozy and still on the cusp of sleep and wakefulness. I shook my head in an attempt to clear it, a bad idea since that momentarily caused my head and ears to pound, and blinked owlishly as I try to get my bleary vision to clear.

Just my room; nothing to see, nothing to remark about, and most definitely nothing out of the ordinary. I had expected Brandon, my roommate, to be around, grinning at his lame prank. Damn. I woke up for nothing. And I was having such a good dream. Stupid flash of light chased the memories of it away at that. 

Lips smacking and digging the crust out of my eyes, I contemplated the value of trying to get back to sleep. My room didn’t have a clock, but it was far from short of timepieces. The closest one was the laptop, resting on the bedside table, and it woke to its lock screen a few seconds after I flipped it open. Great; ten minutes before my alarm was set to go off. That was six minutes more sleep if I went back now. 

“I wish,” I mumbled to no one in particular, smothering a yawn and stumbling my way to the bathroom.  My actions were mechanical and born of long habit, as it wasn’t until the spray of cold water hit me that I fully woke up, spluttering and fumbling to hit the valve that had been left on shower rather than spout. Not the greatest way to start the morning. 

I spend a bit more time than normal under the water, set to a much warmer temperature, to chase the chills the unwanted cold shower caused before toweling off and getting ready to face the day like a man. Of course, since it was my day off… 

“Frig it’s my day off, I could have stayed in bed,” I cursed at myself, scowling at my reflection. Hold up; something was wrong with that image. It took me a moment to realize what it was. Dark skin tone, scar on my nose bridge from that time when I was four too adventurous around a fence and it’s spiked top, low cut hair. All to be expected. Expect for the eyes.

My eyes. 

I leaned closer to the mirror, pulling a lower lid down as I stared at it, baffled as I looked into the gold pupils that sat where dark brown ones should have. Vivid, should-be-impossible-as-a-natural-pigment, gold, looking somewhat larger than they had right to be. The wheels in my head decided they needed a few seconds to churn as it took in that unexpected change and my jaw slacked when realization finally cleared processing. I swore and recoiled as they expanded to unnatural proportions in response to my shock, almost swallowing the whites in their entirety. 

The mat under my feet slipped, sending me flailing comically for the second time in less than half an hour. My efforts at regaining balance were far from successful and I landed in the tub behind me, pulling down the curtain with a clatter of strained hooks and ripping sound as the plastic lining gave, bashing my head on the tiled wall. I lay there dazed for a while, back of my head pounding, cold damp acrylic under me. 

I lay there naked for a while, trying to make sense of everything, my thoughts racing a thousand kilometers a minute. What the hell? Like what the hell? Did I get some sort of weird sickness? Was this some wacked out prank Brandon was pulling? No, no… Brandon left for work already; he wouldn’t pull this sort of thing without sticking around to see the response. Then disease? What kind? Was it fatal? I already needed glasses, was I going to go blind now? Actually, where were my glasses? Actually, how was I seeing so clearly without them?

I whacked my head against the tile again, this time deliberately. Another lance of pain surged from the spot and I knew for a fact I was going to be getting a lump, but it did help disrupt the rampant speculation. The shower spout was dripping, and I clung to the rhythmic pattern and used it to calm down. In time, I was thinking clearly again.

“The hell is going on?” I grumbled. The curtain rod, along with the wash rag and towel that I had tossed over it, had joined my fall, and proved a minor complication as I got to my feet again. The damp rag I employed to soothe the ache a bit as I looked at my eyes again. “Seriously… what the heck?”

I turned to google for answers as I got dressed, looking for anything on spontaneous eye colour changes. I couldn’t find anything useful, only things that reinforced the fact that spontaneous eye colour changes were impossible. The fact that my vision was better than it should be without my spectacles on didn’t help, nor that I also knew the iris wasn’t supposed to be that mobile. It was almost cartoon like, like what you saw in Looney Toones and My Little Pony. “Stuff needs to start making sense now. Because it’s too early to be dealing with this sort of thing…”

The idea of having some bizarre disease took back burner for a while as I went to get breakfast. You might think it callous and dismissive, but going hungry and panicking wasn’t not going to help me. Better I get some food while continuing to research and mildly panic. I’m not sure it if was a good or bad thing that my roommate had already headed out to work for the day. 

I kept breakfast simple, as a concession to my little issue; some toast and hot dogs, munched on them while standing, laptop resting on a box repurposed as a stand on the counter. I rapped my fingers idly as I tried different variations on the search terms, hoping for something more viable then what I’d found so far. “There’s got to be something somewhere useful…”

“Hey! Trevor!” a familiar voice yelled in time with a pounding on my door. “Trevor, you home?”

“Gimmie a minute!” I called out, setting breakfast aside. I shuffled to the door, kicking a few stray shoes out of the hallway and into their corner before opening the door for my visitor. 

“What I can do for you this early in the morning, Roy?” I asked sweetly. Roy was pretty much my best friend. Couple years my senior, though he did journalism to my geography. Both of us found that our fields were rather sparse in terms of openings, and we met sharing mutual woes one night in a game shop. Finding out we shared more than a handful of fandoms was icing on the cake. 

Also; I’m aware that nine and ten o’clock is far from the wee hours, but we both worked later shifts in the day, and he tended to be out until around eleven or twelve. I raised an eyebrow at the headgear he was wearing. “A toque? Not really the time for it.”

“Um… can I come in?” Roy asked nervously. Nervously and hesitantly, as if he were still internally debating his current actions. In fact, he was in sleepwear. Yes, he lived two houses down, but still, sweat bottoms and flannel shirt?

I raised the other eyebrow at his behaviour, but shrugged and stepped aside, waving my hand in the manner of a butler. My response was dispassionate in comparison to the somewhat grandiose motions. “Yeah, sure; whatever.”

“Thanks Trev,” he said, slipping past me.

“I’m not feeding you though,” I added, closing the door behind him. “If you forgot to get groceries again; you’re on your own. I’ve got my own issues to deal with today.”

“You think you have issues?” Roy snorted. He pulled off his toque and pointed to his head. Ears. Resting near the top of his skull was a pair of ears. Not just any ears, either. These were animal-like, dark grey and tuffed, looking like the little bit beasty art you would find on the net, kemonomimi. Yellow, they were splayed back in agitation, or perhaps fear? My animal behaviour course was a few years back, and it didn’t go into details like that anyway.

Those creaky wheels upstairs called for some processing time again and I slowly brought a hand up to my jaw and chewed on my index knuckle thoughtfully until my brain decided to free up enough resources for me to speak. “Are… those… animal ears?”

“Yes!” Roy said, getting that confused and nervous look again. He exhaled, teeth chattering slightly. “Look, am I going crazy or do they look like…”

“Pony ears?” I ventured. “Bat pony in particular?”

“Oh god, I was right,” Roy said. He started pacing. “I got up early because I had to call and make an appointment for next week and I was checking The Blizzard Launcher when I saw this bright flash like lightning…”

He was still talking, but I zoned out. To be honest, I wanted to pace with him, but the brain co-opted more resources to deal with this new information and devise a new hypothesis. Okay… pony ears on Roy. Cartoon eyes on myself. Let’s discard the disease issue for the moment. There had to be a common…. Cartoon + pony = MLP. We were both Bronies; the only two in our immediate circle of relations. Roy had ears that matched the ones the huMane6 had in Equestria Girls. I had the overly expressive and oddly coloured eyes.

“Trevor!” Roy’s yell snapped me back to reality. 

“Huh, what?” I asked. He was glaring at me. “Sorry, wasn’t listening.”

“I could tell,” he said, sighing with exasperation and resignation. “I was asking if you had any idea what was going on. You are the one who did biology. You shou…” his voice trailed off as he noticed something. I bet I knew what. “What happened to your eyes?”

“Same thing that happened to your ears, I wager,” I commented somewhat blandly. Another bet I was pretty sure I would win. I headed back into the kitchen, not caring about the pan in the sink. Roy didn’t hesitate to follow.

“Shouldn’t you be a little more concerned about all this?” Roy asked as I started up a new search on google. The real question was how to look this up. I tried real life ponification.

“I’m very concerned, but since I already hit my head twice over this, I’m not freaking out anymore. Mostly,” I amended after a moment’s thought. “I can believe three impossible things before breakfast.” 

“Wasn’t that the red queen?” Roy said, screwing up his expression a little, his new ears twitching in an adorable manner. Oh lovely… I just thought my best friend was adorable. Not privy to my thoughts, Roy continued, pointing at my plate. “And you already ate.”

“Even more reasons I can believe impossible things,” I pointed out with a grin. The first search didn’t bring up anything much more than a bunch of fanfics. I tapped on one of the keys impatiently, thinking of a new term to use, waving at the phone with my free hand. “Just watch, that phone will ring bearing more impossible news in three… two… one…”

We both looked expectably at the phone, but nothing happened. I blinked at it, disappointed. “Darn.”

“You’re full of it, sometimes,” Roy laughed. He looked over my shoulder and made a suggestion. “Try ‘I got pony ears’.”

I did, but still nothing useful. I was really hoping this wasn’t a lost cause. Maybe people just hadn’t posted anything. Maybe they were like me and were just watching for posts and not making any. I hit Hasbro’s youtube channel and posted a comment there asking if anyone got pony ears.

“Not mentioning the eyes?” Roy asked, reading over my shoulder.

“Putting you under the bus,” I replied with a grin. “Cheaper than paying for an actual ticket.”

“Thanks for that, Trevor,” he deadpanned. Ah, my pupil in sarcasm was growing well!

The phone rang just after I posted the comment. Ah; if only it had rang thirty seconds ago. I snatched it up quickly. “Hi! You’ve reached the residence of Trevor Shaw and Brandon Richards.”

“Trevor! Man I’m glad I got you. I called Roy but his phone just ran off the hook.” I recognized the voice; Jason Doyle, the third, technically first, Brony in our group of friends. I should probably explain things a bit. Roy and I met at one of the local game shops a few years before. At the time, general interests, dungeons and dragons, pokemon, scifi, and so on sparked our friendship. Eventually, we got into online role playing. No, not the kinky stuff, but text based D20 games.

In time, we had a group of friends over the net going. Jason was already a video gaming buddy of Roy, and got drawn into the group as well. From there, we set up something of a fandom swap. I got Roy into Stargate, Roy got Jason, myself and two others into Doctor Who, and Jason got Roy and I into My Little Pony. Admittedly, it took him some effort to get us past the whole ‘Cartoon Ponies’ thing. We never judged him on it, just never had much interest. Roy caved first and fell in love with Luna. I sampled it a few weeks later and burned through all the seasons in three days. 

The rest was history. 

Anyway, while Roy and I lived in the same town, and within walking distance of each other, Jason was across the border in Washington DC. Our fourth brony ally, Sam, lived in Milwaukee, even further than Jason. He was the only one we never got to visit in person. But enough with the retrospect.

“Jace…” I said slowly, trying to gauge his tone.  “Don’t tell me… white flash, punch, weird change?”

“It happened to you too?” Jason asked, sounding somewhat morose. 

“Wait, it happened to him too?” Roy asked, his eyes widening. “What did he get?”

“Shush,” I said, waving a hand at him. “Me and Roy both. And… crap… a ton of people.” I hit refresh on the youtube page, and already there were over a dozen comments, most affirming. “Roy got pony ears. I got pony eyes. What about you?”

“Well…” Jason started.

“What? What did he say?” Roy questioned, looking like he wanted to rip the phone away from me.

“He hasn’t said it yet!” I said, waving him off with sharp dismissive motions. “And I can’t find out if you keep bugging me!”

“Then put it on speaker!” Roy insisted. I paused before taking a moment to facepalm at my lapse in judgment before following his advice. Of all the simple things to overlook…

“Sorry about, Jace,” I muttered. “You were saying?”

“Hi, Jason!” Roy called.

“Mah? Um, hey Roy,” Jason said, thrown off subject. He sounded slightly scratchy over the speaker.

“Greetings later,” I said with more calm than I was feeling. “Response now. Ears. Eyes. And?”

“Holes,” Jason responded.

“… Holes?” I echoed, not quite sure I heard him right.

“Holes,” Jason confirmed slowly.

“Holes!?” Roy demanded.

“Yes, holes!” Jason snapped. “Three holes through my left hand and one through my right leg! They aren’t very big yet, I can’t fit my finger in them, but they go all the way through.”

“Huh…” was all I could muster in response as Jason’s heavy breathing was translated across the line. And I thought my cartoon eyes were bad. “Do they… hurt?”

“No. They are just really freaky,” Jason replied, a slight quaver to his tone.

“Changeling,” Roy said with some certainty. “That's gotta be it.”

“And here I was thinking it was Swiss cheese,” I muttered. Roy was right though; in light of everything, the My Little Pony factor was pretty much verified. What other thing had holes through their limbs? 

“You able to Skype?” Jason asked, ignoring my comment. The signature ring started up before I had a chance to respond.

“What would you have done if I was no?” I asked, rolling my eyes and accepting the call. The video window popped up and loaded from a few seconds before Jason appeared. His brown hair was clearly suffering from a case of bed head and he looks over all frazzled and disheveled. As a counter point to his appearance, his room behind him was pretty neat and tidy.

“Hello, Jason,” Roy called.

“Then it would have just run,” Jason said, hanging up the landline. He peered curiously at the screen. “Morning, Roy.”

“Ears,” I motioned for Roy to come closer so I could point to his head. I leaned slower to my laptop’s camera and opened my eyes wide so he could get a look at them, shuddering slightly when I realized they really were bigger than they should be. “And eyes.”

Jason looked on with silent awe and a trace bit of fear. I snapped my fingers to break his trance. “Holes?”

“Um, yeah,” he said, lifting his hand for Roy and I to see. The smallest one was just between the bones of his middle and ring fingers, somewhat hard to notice if you weren’t looking for it. The largest one was in the middle of his lower arm, about the width of sharpie, the last one just below his wrist and close to the inside edge. You could actually catch glimpses through the largest one.

“Okay… that is decidedly freaky,” I commented, making a slight face. “And I thought the eyes were bad.”

“Wow… I… wow…” Roy murmured. 

“Are those batpony ears?” Jason asked, pointing to Roy’s ears, at least from the perspective of his screen, now that he could see the appendages in question. 

“We think so,” Roy said. I took the opportunity to move the handset back to its cradle and mused some more. So, three people now. All bronies. I needed to get in touch with Sam and check if anything happened to him. Jason had shattered any hopes of it being local. He lived almost six hundred kilometers away, for goodness sake. Youtube had gotten a lot of affirming responses, so it really was happening all over the place, but I didn’t want to check that any more, since the trolls would likely have taken over the comment train by this point. Give them an inch? This was giving them two and a half miles.

Roy and Jason were still tossing ideas back and forth, though I only gave them half an ear’s worth of attention. At least until Jason asked another question. “Didn’t you make a batpony OC for Trevor’s most recent ponyfinder game?”

“Star Sword? Yeah, what about him?” Roy asked.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I groaned slapping me hand against my forehead. “It can’t be that…”

“Changeling holes say yes,” Jason said. “I made a Changeling for Hallow Night and Roy made a batpony.”

Roy had been pestering me about the ponyfinder source books recently, so I caved and agreed to run a short game based on it. It took some fiddling, but I made stats for the non-standard races and shifted things to be a bit more show accurate, but we got a party of ponies made and prepped for the game that was supposed to start that Thursday. Star Shadow the batpony was Roy’s character. Jason made Chitter; a changeling that left the hive and I made a Silver Stroke; lunar touched unicorn. 

“You’re telling me we’re becoming our characters? That makes no sense at all,” I grumbled. 

“It’s better than the idea you had,” Roy pointed out, jabbing a finger at me. I noticed with a trace of misplaced fascination that his new ears were flicking and moving to his emotions.

“I didn’t have an idea,” I countered, pushing aside that observation for now. Jason was staying out of it.

“Exactly,” Roy said with a smug look. 

He stole that spiel for me. “You think you’re ready to challenge your master of snark and sarcasm?”

“There comes a time when the student must surpass the master,” Roy said, narrowing his eyes and going into cliché quotes.

“Ah, little one, true as that may be, that day is still in the distant future,” I gathered my impressive powers of razor wit and cutting tongues, prepared to put the unruly pup in his place. Or would that be foal? That last thought opened my eyes and I laughed weakly. “Ah, this might not be the time and place for this.”

“You too finished bickering like an old married couple?” Jason asked. The speakers faintly picked up the sound of him typing away at the keyboard.

“Pretty much, I guess,” I shrugged, though I was smirking slightly. “We need to get in touch with Sam. He made a merpony for that game. If the same thing is happening to him, he’s in for some weird times. Really weird.”

“Huh… I bet he wouldn’t complain if he got a tail. He was always into mermaids,” Roy commented.

“Don’t start again,” Jason called out. “Look, I found something interesting. I’m sending you the link.”

He dropped a link in the chatbox for us to follow. It was to one of the MLP forums, a new and somewhat word heavy post. I quickly skimmed the lines and swore softly when I got the jist of it. “Fine, Jason wins this one.”

“Um… am I reading this right that two guys caused this? By accident?” Roy was really just looking for external verification.

“Sounds unbelievable, doesn’t it?” Jason commented.

“I’m wondering what the range on this thing problem is. Some sort of unstable radiation or ripple that’s causing… changes in bronies?” I didn’t want to go as far as saying transformation. Though ‘yet’ might be the key word in that situation. “What qualifies you to be a brony, anyway? I scored Moderate Creative. Jace is hipster…”

“Mah?” Jason exclaimed slightly.

“Pretty sure Roy was Moderate,” I continued, ignoring Jace. “But none of us have been to conventions or anything like that. Or bought a lot of swag, except for Sam…”

“Boop,” Roy interjected, pressing his hand over my nose out of nowhere.

“Oi!” I said, jerking back. 

“Good, you stopped. Other more important things,” Roy said, pointing to the screen. “They said they are going to Chicago.”

I tched and reread the post again. “You just found this, Jace?”

“It’s on a couple other sites too,” Jason affirmed. He put a few more links in the chat box for us. “I think this guy is really trying to get this out there before things…”

“Go horribly and irrevocably wrong for all those affected?” I finished the line for him in a completely deadpan voice. Roy booped me again.

“Pretty much my thoughts. But less grimdark and dramatic,” Jason said. “And I’m a moderate. Roy is the hipster.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” Roy asked. 

“That you’re the hipster. Congratulations. I’ll get you a trophy later. So, are you going to Chicago, Jace?” I asked him. I had my own thoughts on the matter. Namely; I would be stupid not to. The hard part would be getting the time off work to actually go. And actually getting there. 

“I… I’m not sure,” Jason admitted.

“I’m going,” I said firmly. Yep, saying it out loud made it final. “Probably driving, since it would work out cheaper, most likely. International flights suffer from impressive price hikes. One of these days they will let these things happen in Toronto.” The only problem was that I hated driving for over an hour at a time. “I’m taking Roy with me.”

“What?” Roy said, started at being voluntold.

“Toronto is an hour and a half from here. Detroit is five hours. Chicago is about twice that,” I said, explaining my logic. “I need another driver.”

“Who said I was going?” Roy said, giving me the stink eye.

“I know you. You wouldn’t want to pass this up,” I said.

“Yeah, I’m with Trev on that one,” Jason commented. 

“And splitting gas bills is cheaper than paying air fare or bus and train tickets,” I said, making Roy’s plans for him. “What about you Jace? Are we going to meet you part way?”

“I… don’t know,” Jason said, swallowing nervously. 

“You want to be stuck there if they have a cure or something in Chicago?” Roy asked. Jason chewed his lip, then got up and walked out of camera range. “Jason? Jace? Hey!”

“Give him time to think,” I told Roy, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Some people don’t just impulsively follow all the suggestions their friends make.”

“I guess,” Roy sighed. “Hold up, are you calling me weak willed?”

“Moi? Why, I never!” I protested with mock indignation. Roy laughed. It did much to lighten the mood. “So… see if we can reach Sam?”

“Yeah,” Roy agreed. “Let me run back to my place and get my laptop. I… might have left my door open actually.”

“Sure, go on,” I said, waving at Roy and moving to wash the dishes. “Take your time. Jason’s gonna need a fe-”

“I’m in,” Jason said suddenly, causing me to jump a little.

“Wha?” I managed.

“I’m going too. I’ll check prices for flights, but maybe we could meet up in Detroit?” Jason said, giving us a weak smile.

I sighed, but smiled back, one that quickly turned into a grin. “Sure. Detroit it is. I’ve got GPS on my phone and can find directions online anyway.”

“What about Sam?” Roy asked. 

“We’re should still get in touch with him, but he’s in Milwaukee,” Jason said. “He’s north of Chicago and closer than any of us. He might reach there before we do.”

“Alright then,” I said, exchanging a look with Roy. “First Detroit, then Chicago!”








Of the two, it was the elder that still held a place in the hearts of most ponies. She was the one they called to for strength and wisdom, her calm smile what they looked to for comfort. She was like the sun, nay; she was the sun, radiating warmth and comfort. Yet, like the sun and the clear sky it stood in, its beauty was enduring and almost infallible, the face shown to her subjects the same; warm yet with a cold distance most did not notice existed. After all; one felt the sun’s wrath when it bore down on you, rather than beheld the storms that might rage within and upon its seemingly enduring visage.

The younger, in spite of her domain and service to her ponies being in one of the most intimate of settings, their very dreams, or perhaps because of it, still remained across a gulf for many of her subjects. And yet, for all that isolation, she was the more emotive and expressive of the two rulers, for unlike the sun, the moon freely changed and showed a variety of faces, and the night sky was but a canvas that held a constantly shifting mural. She interacted with them the same, sensitive to their moods, her own, despite her reserved personality and bearing, returned and honest.

As such, it was the younger whose reaction was more noteworthy. Elegantly shoed hooves pounded through the hallways of the castle as the Princess of the Night galloped to her destination. Guards and castle workers reacted to her passage with confusion, for one did not always see royalty racing headlong down corridors, but it wasn’t their place to tell them not to, either. 

She ignored them, continuing to pass them as a blue furred blur. Her charge only slowed when she found her sister, the gallop becoming a worried trot, her expression grave and concerned. 

“Sister,” Princess Luna called out as she approached, the pressing nature of her worries making her too impatient to wait until she was at her sibling’s side. “Did you feel it?”

Princess Celestia’s bearing was grave, and the terse nature of her response enforced it with a single word. “Yes.”

As sourceless as it was, Luna could only gaze at nothing as she reflected on the matter. At the other end of the hall, the same direction from which she came, a small group of guards were gathering, concerned with their ruler’s plight. Luna looked at them for a moment, her thoughts wandering, the question central to it all murmured out loud. “What does this mean..?”

Rhetorical or not, Celestia had a response, one that would only add to the turmoil of thoughts and ideas that ran across their minds. “Our world is going to change. For better or worse… I don’t know yet.”





It was minute, a difference that would have easily gone overlooked to anypony else. But she wasn’t just anypony else. She was the one who crafted this impressive array of crystals, stones, metals and minerals. She was the one who searched out old, ancient and forgotten principles and knowledge to devise the intricate structure that filled the stone walled room. This project was one born from her sweat and blood, from months of labour and effort in the face of criticism and rejection. No, anypony else would have missed the small mote of magic rebounding and glittering slightly within the small crystal tucked away in a remote corner of the artistic design.

But not her. This was her baby, and it caught her eye within moments. For a long while, she just stared at it, her turquoise eyes glittering. She had endured it, ponies calling her work silly fiction, her efforts a fool’s errand. But this was proof, that little crystal and the tiny spark within it was proof. A smile tugged at the edge of her mouth and a soft declaration escaped her as she extended a hoof towards the small crystal that was now invaluable to her with almost motherly tenderness.

“I was right.”

> Original Reactions
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

As… pressing as the current situation was, we couldn’t just up and leave the country on a five minute notice. There were a lot of arrangements to be made. Work, packing, funds, route planning. All the minute details that never seemed to bother any of the heroes in stories when these sort of things happened to them. I lingered around the mirror in my bedroom, clothes strewn across the bed, my backpack half packed and hanging open as the phone rang, sighing with apprehension as I waited for someone to pick up at the other end. 

“Hello son, nice of you to call,” a soft female voice said after the line clicked.

“Mom?” I asked uncertainly, watching my reactions in the mirror. Yeesh, how was I seeing anything out of those? Actually, I suppose it explained the minor narrowing of my field of vision.

“You only have one of those, as far as I know,” she sassed back. Yes, it was hereditary. I was better at it than she was though. “It’s not like you to call this time of the day. Did something happen?”

“Did it ever,” I mumbled, wondering just how to break this one to her. 

I avoided generally avoided this sort of thing. There were some times you didn’t just up and tell parents. At least, not until you sorted it all out. I mean, I was a grown and independent young adult. Working, earning my own money, paying my own rent and the works. We talked about casual things. This… I felt like a kid running to his parents because he broke his toy or something. Admittedly, that was a horrible analogy, but the premise was there. I almost hadn’t wanted her to answer.

“I’m going to Chicago for a few days,” I continued.

The line was silent for a while. I nervously chewed on my lip while waiting for her response. “Why?”

“Um… would you believe ‘a pair of over achieving students’ two high tech science projects got crossed with My Little Pony and somehow affected fans worldwide’?” I asked tentatively and quickly. That ‘two’ was a bit redundant, but I was just glad to get it all out without stumbling over the words. Because, be honest, it sounded completely ridiculous when you said it out loud.

“What?” she asked.

“A pair of over achieving students somehow managed to get their science projects crossed with My Little Pony, Mom,” I said, closing my eyes and leaning against the mirror, forehead resting on the cool glass. 

“That… cartoon? The one with the horses-”

“Ponies,” I correctly reflexively. 

“Fine, the ponies that you say you watch for the interaction between the cast and the societal structure presented?” She finished. I’m not ashamed to say I actually wrote a short paper on the potential influence an immortal or unaging ruler would have on a society for an elective I took in my last year, citing a few episodes of the show in it. I was bored in that class and couldn’t think of a better topic. It was that or ‘Anime and the Influence of Japanse Culture in the West’. She had been the one to proof read it for me and she admitted it was an interesting topic. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“This is a very awkward conversation,” I muttered, bumping my head against the glass a few more times. “What would you do if I said I was turning into a pony?”

“A… pony?” Mom echoed.

Aren't you the one that usually wants to keep these kinds of things a secret? In like... every single modern game we do ever? I could hear Roy’s comment as if he was in the room with me. In all my time DMing games, this was the sort of thing I avoided. Telling relations was a tricky situation. I wasn’t even sure how to proceed really.

It would be so much easier to just come up with a story to tell her. Spinning her a tale would be hardly any trouble at all. I could just tell her it was a convention I got tickets for and leave it there. I let a strained breath hiss through my clenched teeth. 

“Like the ones from the show. Unicorn, pegasus, earth pony. Those ponies,” I expounded a bit.

“Well…” she was silent for a while. “Let me think about this a little…”

‘Wha… Oh damn… She thinks it’s one of my theoretical scenario ideas,’ I realised, resisting the urge to groan. I wasn’t sure how to take the revelation. I bounced game ideas off her sometimes, so she wasn’t unaccustomed to random impossible things being run past her out of the blue, or strange questions being sent to her with no warning, or even relevant to the topic of a conversation.

“In real life? I would probably… It’s hard to think of this one. I would probably panic and try to deny that it was possible,” she mused. I winced. “Maybe not believe you until I had some proof.” I winced again. “But I’d like to think I’d try to be a supportive parent.”

“Okay Mom,” Yet another strained hiss of air escaped between my teeth, tensed in worry. It would be so easy to spin a story for her; a convention in Chicago I had tickets for, out for a few days.  It would be so much easier. “Okay, okay… Please don’t freak out, but I promise you I’m not lying. I’m.. turning into a pony.”

I quickly continued into the stunned, well, I assumed it was stunned, silence, words spilling off my tongue at an ever increasing pace as half formed plans started coming together as they were voiced. “Two guys got their science projects crossed with an episode of My Little Pony and now people all over are turning into ponies. They are trying to organize a convention in Chicago to try and deal with it. Me, Roy and Jason plan to go. I’ve going to cash in some of my emergency days at work. Don’t want to waste too much time since I don’t know how fast these changes are progressing. Going to have to dip into my saving to get a place… maybe a motel or something to save money-”

“Trevor, this in one of your jokes, isn’t it?” my mom’s weak, somewhat shaking voice. 

“No, mom, it isn’t. My eyes changed colour this morning. Roy has pony ears.” I decided not to mention Jason’s changes. They creeped me out, much less her. “I… I can send you some pictures, if you want prove. But it’s really happening.”

“Mom?” I asked as a soft sound came over the line that I couldn’t place. It happened again. It sounds like… no… I listened. “Mom… are you… crying?”

Another gasping sniff translated across the line. Oh God, I made my mother cry. “Your father said it was a strange obsession, that it was a waste of time for you to watch that show, that it wasn’t right for a grown man to spend so much time on it.”

“Mom…” I said weakly, closing my eyes as she continued.

“But… but I said it was a harmless like,” she continued. “The worse that could happen was people thinking it was weird. But now… ”

“MOM!” I said, managing to break through her words. This was why I thought selective explanations of facts were best. Full disclosure only made everyone more confused. ‘Why the hell didn’t I just come up with a story or some lie to give her?

“You’re freaking out, Mom!” I chastised her. Her panic was starting to infiltrate my own state of mind. “You said you wouldn’t freak out!”

“How do you expect me to react to something like this!” she demanded. On one hand; she seemed to have moved past denial and gone into acceptance. On the other; she was still freaking out.

“You said you would be supportive! I get that it’s something to freak over, but can you do that after I hang up and just pretend in the mean while?” I said. Well, demanded. Tad on the disrespectful side, but I wasn’t exactly caring about that at the moment. “I can’t spend the entire time on the line. It takes a couple hours well to get to Chicago and I don’t know what’s going one much more than what I told you. If you can’t deal with that, then I’m sorry.”

“Trevor Oren Shaw. I will not have you taking that tone with me. I don’t care how old you are, I am your mother and you will not use that kind of attitude with me.” Her parental nature swelled up and put everything else aside for the moment. 

“Sorry mom,” I said, a bit ashamed of, but not regretting, my outburst. Still; three named. Not that it ever really worked on me. “But I’m serious. I love you and all, but if all you’re going to do is panic, I don’t want to spend time on that. I can’t spend time on that…”

“It’s… just a lot to take in at once,” mom admitted. I heard her take a few breaths. “So… how are you doing?”

“I’m… scared,” I admitted to her, dropping unto my bed. “I’m scared mom. And confused. Somewhat excited. Really scared and confused though. It’s why I’m going to Chicago. Roy’s coming with me, and we’re gonna be meeting Jace in Detroit.”

“Roy? Roy is a part of this too?” Mom asked.

“He is mom. We’re working on it, like I said. He’s got the ears. Sorta cute on him,” I hesitated, not sure where that thought came from again. Seriously. He was my best friend, and had been for years. Since when did I start finding his ears cute?

“I don’t know what I can do…” Mom said weakly. “I… I promised I’d try to be supportive, I did. I’ll talk to your father about this later… but… in the very least we can send you some funds if you need it.”

“My father?” I said.

“Of course. Did you think I wasn’t going to let him know about this?” She asked sharply.

“No, no, of course not,” I said, shaking my head. For a moment, I drew a blank when she mentioned father. It must have been the panic getting to me. I mean, we mentioned him before. “Sorry, mom, but I have… packing to finish. I… I’ll call you back later, okay?”

“Wait, you can’t just-”

“Mom, I really have to go,” I said, fibbing a little. 

She was quiet for a few moments. “Okay. Let me know what you find out. And for the love of God, be safe.”

“I will,” I promised.

“And Trevor… no matter what, I love you.”

“I know mom,” I said softly before hanging up. I flopped back unto my bed. “That… was awkward… hopefully the others are having a better go at it.”





“Get out of my house…” she said softly.

Sam looked at his mother in panic. His little sister Eden hung off to the side, looking from her brother and mother with a worried expression on her face, but trying not to get in the line of conflict. Sam took another moment, trying to get a read on his mother’s emotions. “What do you mean, mum?”

Her expression twisted into one of fury and a trace of disgust. “Get out! Get out! Get out!” At her last repetition she actually grabbed one of the candle sticks that sat on the table and hurled it in his direction. The heavy glass ornament fortunately missed him, striking the wall, fragmenting into large chunks after knocking a divot in the drywall. 

“Holy shit, MUM!” he swore. Eden shrieked and ducked back into the kitchen,

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” she yelled again, reaching for the second ornament. 

Sam ran, pausing only to grab his day pack from where he had dropped it by the door when he came in for what had turned out to be that disastrous encounter. His mother’s strangled yell and the solid thwack of the second candle stick hitting the wall chased him from the house and unto the street, and he kept going for another two blocks, the rush of adrenaline keeping his thoughts focused only on getting away from his furious parent. Sock less feet chaffed slightly in his moist trainers, damp locks from his morning swim flying, and the gills that mysteriously formed on his neck, the ones that his mother reacted so negatively to, fluttered in the air.

He was forced to stop when he started to feel slightly light headed and woozy, and finally began taking in his surroundings. He had to chuckle to himself when he realized where he was. It was the small park near his home; a set of swing hanging close to a small wooden playset, see-saws behind them, woodchip around them, the sand confined to the sandpit off to the side. All empty at the moment, but his mind could easily supply the sounds of happy children.

He had mixed memories of the place. Some good; his older sister Andromeda taking him here when she was watching him, his own turns at being the responsible elder sibling when he took Eden there. Some bad; like sulking on the swings whenever life’s turns were too harsh, when his girlfriend left him, when he and his parents got into a stupid spat or another.

The swing was the same as he remembered, from the creak of the leather to the squeal of the chains. He leaned back and closed his eyes, rocking himself with a leg.

“Hell. Shit. Fuck. Fucking shit on this hell,” he murmured softly to himself. The gills itched, but he resisted scratching them. He noticed them when they first started itching before he found a mirror. Two patches of turquoise, one on either side of his neck, fur around scaled slits, with pink gills inside. 

His mother lost her shit when she saw them. No other way to explain it. She had become quieter as he explained his attraction to mermaids and ponies, then she exploded. Now he was kicked out of the house with only a set of damp underwear, swim trunks, towel and socks crammed in his bag. At least he had his wallet. Maybe he would spend the night at Andromeda’s place and try and talk to his parents again in the morning. If not… He was eighteen. 

“Sam?” He snapped out of his reverie when a soft voice called out. He didn’t expect to see Eden there, hair in her pigtails, boots on her feet and her coat on. Especially not with her Princess and the Frog bag on her back and her Little Mermaid one on the ground beside her. He didn’t realize how long he had just sat there.

“Hey, Ede,” he said with a smile. He was still glad to see her. She had been the only one to know about him being a brony, and his love of mermaids, and though she didn’t like the show all that much, which he found funny, she hadn’t told their parents. “What are you doing here?”

“Mum’s being a big meanie! So I’m running away with you until she lets you come home,” Eden declared loudly with an adorable pout. Her defiant expression lasted a few moments before a tremor of fear of the unknown shook it. “Or until Daddy comes home.”

Sam got off the caught her up in a hug, squeezing her tight, his eyes watering. “Thanks…” 

“For what?” she asked, even as she giggled. 

“For doing this,” Sam said before letting her go and putting his hands on her shoulders. “But you can’t run away.”

“Why not?” she said, stomping her foot. “Mum was yelling mean things after you left, and when I told her she was mean to you, she told me to go to my room. So I put some stuff in my bag and snuck to your room and put some stuff in my Princess Ariel bag cause you like mermaids and I got you a bottle of water and a scarf cause Miss Ramses said our class fish Simsim can’t breathe air since he has gills and needs water. But you can’t put water around neck, so I got the scarf so you could wrap it around your neck and pour water on it so you can stay outside of water.”

“You did that?” Sam asked, looking at his little sister in disbelief. Aside from the guts that took, to think it out that much.

“Uhuh. It’s my turn to take care of Simsim so I learned lots.”

“Thanks, Ede, but you got to go back home,” Sam said. 

“But why? Mum’s mean right now…” She whined. “I wanna go with you.”

“You’re too little,” Sam said. “And I don’t have anywhere to go, anyway.”

“But-”

“No, Ede, you have to go home,” Sam said softly. As much as he loved his little sister, he really couldn’t do anything aside from send her back home. Eden sniffled and started crying. It took another five minutes for him to calm her down enough to take her back home. On the way, he checked some of the things Eden had packed for him. 

It was a mix of thought out and childish. A bottle of water and candy. Two shirts and a pants, but no underwear. A picture of the two of them taken last Halloween; he dressed as Aquaman and she dressed as Dora the Explorer. His Fluttershy plush. His phone. His search was put off in favour of checking his notifications as he led her the four blocks back home. By the time he had reached home, he had a new purpose thanks to the mail messages from not only Trevor, but Jason and Roy as well. It gave him something to think about, that was for sure. 

“Why are you back?” To be honest, Sam hadn’t expected the warmest response from his mother when he returned, but her blunt emotionless tone was still something of a surprise.

Still bitter about her rashness at chasing him out of the house, with a reaction that would count as physical abuse or assault if it had landed, his own retort was less than civil. “You chased Eden out too with your yelling.” If looks could kill. Or ignite. As it was, he could swear the temperature rose a few degrees under her glare.

“I only came to bring Ede back home and to get some of my stuff without you throwing things at me,” he went on, looking away from her, but unable to snap back. He managed to get out of the front room, leading his still sullen sister to her room before he headed to his own, all before she could manage to find anything more to say. There was evidence there of Ede’s earlier work, and he moved quickly to pack a more appropriate bag.

He was getting proper socks and shoes on when his mother appeared in the doorway with more words for him. “I don’t want you back in this house until whatever unnatural thing you have is gone. And that includes your obsessions!”

“You think I wanted this to happen?” Sam said, snapping back, stuffing more clothes in a rucksack. 

“Mermaids and Ponies? I would expect Eden to like that show! Not an eighteen year old! Get out and don’t come back until you’re less of a disappointment!”

Sam ground his teeth. Was it too much to expect caring parents who didn’t go apeshit over something stupid like this? Angry tears spilled from his eyes. “Fuck it. I’m leaving. Call me when you’re ready to not be stupid about this.”

“How dare you!” His mother started.

He tuned her out and pushed past her. She recoiled with a strangled yelp, as if afraid to touch him. She was still yelling after him as he walked out and slammed the door behind him. At least he had friends who would be willing to help, and a vague goal in the form of Chicago. He wrapped the scarf around his head. Getting a bus wouldn’t be too hard. Anything to get away from her. 

He looked back once and regretted it. Eden’s face was pressed against the window. She was crying again.





It was expensive, but Jason managed to get a flight for that afternoon. And by expensive, he meant a decent chunk from his computer funds. And still it was far cheaper than flying directly to Chicago on such short notice. He’d have to catch the train to Baltimore, before picking up a flight to Philadelphia. After an hour layover, he’d get the flight to Detroit from there.

He wasn’t quite sure if the universe was having a quiet chuckle at his misfortune. Baltimare, Fillydelphia and Detrot. He shook his head slowly and gave his credit card a work out purchasing plane and train tickets. When all that was done, he didn’t have much time to do anything aside from get a day bag put together, fire off an email to Trevor with his itinerary and quickly but a vague ‘I’ll be out of town’ note for his roommate before heading out.

A long sleeved shirt and a pair of light gloves kept the slowly growing holes in is hand out of sight. It might have been early in the season for gloves, but he would rather the stares for odd fashion over odd anatomy any day. He checked that he had all the information he needed in regards to his travel plans on last time and headed for the door.

It opened before he reached it, admitting the second resident of the flat, Alexander McIntyre. It was clear from the grocery bags hanging from the crock of one arm, the partially eaten danish in his mouth, the notebooks in the other hand and the bag on his back that getting the door open had been an endeavor in itself. Still, he grinned around his danish and gave Jason a half smile. 

“Alex! You’re home. Early,” Jason said, looking at the clock.

“Got my assessment don’t early,” Alex nodded, freeing his mouth from the danish to properly converse. He noted Jason’s pack. “You going on a trip?” 

“Er…” Jason said with a slight cough. What should he tell him? “A bit of an emergency, actually. I’m going leaving for a while to see if I can get it taken care of.”

“Seriously, dude?” Alex said, moving to the kitchen to put his groceries away.

“Yeah. I’m hoping to get everything worked out in no time,” Jason went on, pulling on his sneakers. “You can split the stuff on my shelf between you and Dana if it drags on for more than a few days.”

“How you plan to get there? You don’t drive.”

“Plane part of the way and then hitching a ride with a buddy.” Jason glanced at his cell phone to check the time a bit impatiently.

“I don’t get it. Is it serious or not?” Alex asked, a box of mac and cheese halfway to its place in the cupboard. “It can’t be cheap to fly. Even if it’s not all the way.”

“Not serious now, might be later,” Jason said quickly. He would have said more, but he had to clear his throat a bit. “Better safe than sorry, nip it at the bud. Look, I have a train to catch, so…”

“I get it. Go if you’re going, don’t let me keep you up,” Alex said as he waved a hand dismissively. “Hope you get over it soon.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jason sighed before closing the door and jogging off to the transit stop.





Trevor was working on the logistics of the trip and his call to his mother. Jason was purchasing plane and train tickets. Sam was dealing with the fall out of his mother’s less than ideal reaction. Everyone had something to occupy their minds from the fact that they were experiencing a physical transformation that they had no control over. 

Almost everyone, that is.

Roy huddled on his bed, wallowing in the confusion and uncertainty of everything that was happening. He had drawn his blinds and closed his door, leaving his room in darkness, then huddled under his blanket and tried to will the world away. 

It’s going to be okay. It’s nothing to worry about. We’re gonna find a solution. It’s why we are going to Chicago. It’s awesome anyway; I get to be Star Defender! Wings and a child of the night! But that’s a bad thing… this is reality, not fiction. Pony in real life? But innate magic. And enough of them that the people in charge would have to look up and say yes!

His thoughts followed that stumbling and drunken pattern, swaying back and forth from the negatives to the positives of all that was happening, teetering on, but never addressing, the issue directly. It was surprising how quickly one lost track of the time when stuck in your thoughts like that. Roy’s first clue to the passage of time was a female voice singing loudly from some other part of the house.

His new pony ears tried to flick and home in on the sound reflexively, though the toque he never got around to removing since he got home reduced the flick to a twitch, and the layers of covers and the action distance muffled the voice. He pulled the covers aside and listened.

“And guess what? I’m having more fun. And now that we’re done, I’m gonna show you tonight!”

Confused, Roy dug himself out of his little pit and slunk out to see what was going on. The singer was still going strong, but he recognized the voice by that point. He stared in bemusement at the sight of his roommate Brenda rocking out to the song playing over her headphones as she made a sandwich in the kitchen, her hair making a somewhat dissonant accompaniment as the beads literally threaded on the too-many-to-count braids rattled.

“So what? I am a rock star. I got my rock moves, and I don’t need youuuu-ooooOH MY GOD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!”

“Um… I live here too?” Roy said, still confused and his ears ringing slightly. It didn’t help that she was only in a sport bra and tight work-out shorts, her dark skin still somewhat sweaty from her jog. They had tried dating once, it didn’t work out and they fell back into being friends, but there were still times when circumstances lead to a ‘You Could Have Had All This’ moment. 

‘No, don’t focus on her body. You had your chance and it didn’t work out. Besides, she said she might ask your best friend out…’ Of course, his just because personalities didn’t match up didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate her body. She was a long distance runner, and in the middle of training for a charity marathon. 

“Jeeze, Roy. I hollered when I got in and you didn’t say anything. I even knocked on your door. I thought for sure you were at work,” she said before taking a bite of her meal, giving him an appraising look. “You look like crap. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Roy said, looking away.

“You can’t lie to save your life and you have a tell,” Brenda said, pointing. Roy looked down to wear she was pointing, realizing he was scratching at his right elbow. “What’s up?”

“It’s nothing,” Roy insisted. Since he was up anyway, he headed for the fridge to grab a pop.

“Mr. Kirkpatrick, don’t make me force an answer from you,” she said in a jokingly threatening fashion.

“You don’t want to know,” Roy said, cracking the can of pepsi open.

“Just tell me,” Brenda said, leaning back on the counter without a care in the world.

“Fine, well you see…” Jason and Trevor were right about Roy having something of a weak will. But it stemmed from his dislike of keeping anything from his friends. He told Brenda the story, the whole story and everything it entailed. She was quiet, her eyes darting up to his ears as he spoke, said ears twitching nervously whenever he noticed her staring at them. It wasn’t a long story, to be honest, and he had everything out in the open in less than five minutes.

“That’s….” Brenda started. Roy cringed in preparation. “Pretty awesome, actually.”

“Wait… it is?”

“Bat-ponies are cool,” Brenda grinned. She wasn’t a big fan of MLP, but she watched a few episodes, most because Roy happened to be watching them when she got in. She did like Luna Eclipsed though. “You get to be a blood sucker.”

“Bat ponies don’t suck blood,” Roy snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Says you. At least you get to find out,” she said, reaching over to tug on his new lobes. 

“Hey! Quiddit!” he protested, slapping her hands away. Weirdly enough, the failed dating attempts actually strengthened their friendship, and even though firmly friend zoned (yes, it existed. Don’t let any female tell you otherwise), they were also surrogate sibling zoned. 

“Try and make me, beansprout! You’d need to hit the gym for a few months before you’re good enough,” she taunted, pinning his hands with one of her own and tweaking his ears again.

“Mah, get off!” Roy laughed. She was trying to cheer him up. And it was working. He grinned as he managed to squirm and get one hand free. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t all that bad.
> Dreams and Travel
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sleep was hard in coming. But I decided it was the best course of action, even if it was still day. I wanted to get to Chicago before circumstances trapped us all, and was just preparing for the worse case scenarios. But based on the times Jason emailed me, I still had a few hours to burn before we would need to leave to make it to Detroit in time to meet up with him. But that was still a long drive, longer than I would normally subject myself to, and I did not want to be falling asleep on the road. Worry still lingered at the corners of my thoughts, especially for Sam. 

With an air of frustration, I rolled over, pulling the covers tight over my head to block out all traces of light, considering, not for the first time, the validity of taking a bit of sleeping aid. 

Kicked out of his house. Legitimately kicked out. What if we didn’t make it to Chicago before this thing progressed too far? Oh Hell... every brony and fan on the continent would be heading there! Just the ones in Chicago alone would, no, I already booked a room near the center they said they got. Roy and Jason better pay me back for some of the cash I’m- no damn it Trevor, that’s callous. No, not callous, selfish. Actually, both. Worry about the money if we get this all sorted out. When. Not if. Optimism. The GPS is ready to go, Mordecai is gassed up, you’ve got a bag packed, your alarm set. Should I be referring to myself in second person or first person? Not important, just sleep already!

Yelling at myself didn’t instantly push me into slumberland, but it at least started squashing out the thoughts that were running rampant. And in time I did drift off into a half dozing state. 

----------

The grass and leaves crunched slightly under my bare feet. True to its name, the Shade Forest didn’t have much in terms of open canopy that would let the moonlight trickle through, but I’d trekked this path enough times that it was almost muscle memory to weave past the tangling roots of that one tree and to hop over the depression a thick mat of grass and leaves always concealed.  The soft glow of the fungus and mushrooms clinging to the trunks in a few places added to the ambient light too, even if it was slightly spooky.

The air had enough of a nip to it that I had to pull my jacket close, muttering at the foolishness of choosing to take a walk through the Shade Forest this time of year without boots or a scarf. It’s not like I had anypony to prove anything to. Aside from the idiots back at the academy, and I’d already proved better than them with…

What the hay was I thinking about? I shook my head slowly as the dream slipped into semi-lucid territory, enough that I realized I was dreaming, but not enough to either take control or even know what was going on. I just kept on walking down the familiar path, ducking under the hanging branches of a thorn bush and scrabbling up a less traveled path complaining to myself some more until I reached a secluded retreat.

It wasn’t very big, a small clearing where the trees finally surrounded, mostly because the soil layer was too shallow to afford them much anchorage after the Wild Weather from a few decades before carved the slice out. The moss that claimed the imperfection on the hillside made it a perfect spot for laying back and relaxing. So that’s exactly what I did; collapsing to the soft loaming earth and closing my eyes, letting the moonlight trickling through the cloud cover work it’s soothing magic. 

At least until he showed up. He didn’t make any efforts to hide his approach, and might actually have been going out of his way to make his approach known. The least I could do was acknowledge somepony, or something, trying that hard. With a reluctant sigh, I rolled over to see who it was. This place was supposed to be somewhat unknown. I could count the number of ponies that knew about it on one….

What?

I hated dreams sometimes. So apparently somepo- someone was coming and wow, glowing eyes? No kidding. A pair of yellow eyes glowed in the treeline, steadily approaching with a crush of plant life and snapping of branches. Slowly, a vague outline formed at it neared the light, a quadruped shape resolving itself. The grey unicorn stepped into the clearing, looking slightly peeved, snorting as he examined me as he approached.

Twenty steps out. Nineteen. Eighteen… I pushed myself to a sitting pushing, casually crossing my legs beneath me, a degree of flexibility I normally didn’t have. Dreams. That aside, I eyed the unicorn, and mutual recognition spark in our eyes. Now, I don’t know how or where he would know me from, but I knew him intimately. The scar that ran down his jaw line and to part of his neck. The golden eyes, the reflective glow faded now that he was in the light, but slitted like a felines or bat ponies, something that had set him apart when he was young. The streak of the same in his silver mane and tail. The silver feather, the tip like a quill, one side resembling a sharpened blade, over a spiral that rested on his flank.

Of course I knew him. I created him, after all. 

Twelve steps. Eleven. Ten… I could tell he was studying me in return, his expression unreadable as his eyes darted from one thing to another. Soon, we were in arms reach or each other; the pony and the human, the creation and his creator. The tension was thick. 

“So…” I drawled.

“Yep,” he responded.

I rolled my eyes. Fine then. “Nice night for a stroll.”

“I suppose,” he said with a slight shrug.

“Silver Edged Stroke,” I mused. I motioned at the scar. “Timberwolves?”

“First deployment in the Everfree. Phantasms don’t work so well on them and I thought it would be clever to save magic by not using a shadow,” my creation commented without much attachment to the topic. He tilted his head back slightly, giving me a slight sneer that let one of his fang peek out slightly. “Long time ago. But I suppose you already know that.”

“I suppose I do,” I said, trying to be nonchalant. Fangs on a pony really were disconcerting. And it made me think of the carnivorous feral unicorns from the Half-Blood Chronicles. That they were called alicorns only confused matters. 

“Got to say… never expected to meet you. Much less in a place like this,” Silver commented.

“Yeah… It could use a few things…. Chairs… maybe a table…” I said, waving a hand around the spartan natural setting. “Nice view though.”

He snorted with a little laugh and sat on his haunches. “Not exactly what I expected, you are.”

“Oh?” I was curious about what somepony I made thought of me. “Not dashing enough for you?”

“Oh, I knew you would have to be some kind of a flankhole,” Silver said, snorting again. “With what you did.”

“Oh the bluntness… it hurts,” I muttered. 

“You didn’t have to go through it. Your mother didn’t either,” Silver said, a hint of a snarl in his voice. Suddenly, I recalled the fact that I was beside a trained unicorn, one whom seemed to be harbouring a bit of a dislike for me. He snorted and waved his hoof to encompass the area. “But to do this?”

“Um… do what? Because aside from meeting you in what I’m pretty sure is the secret retreat you and Star found, I don’t really have much of an idea what’s going on. Honestly, I’m a surprised I’m not freaking out right about now,” I admitted. I would often envision one on one sessions with my characters which building them, but this? This was a totally different continent from those. 

“The light? The void? This pseudospace?” Silver demanded, getting irate, leaping to his hooves and turning on me. 

“Hold up,” I backed away, waving my hands. “Pseudospace? Void?”

“You… don’t...?” Silver faltered. “Dear Luna… this is priceless!” he swore angrily.

“I just fell asleep and ended up walking in the forest,” I shrugged. “Barefooted, I might add.”

“Well this is just perfect,” Silver cursed. He reared up and turned away from me before launching a bolt of magic into the tree line. “Horseapples!”

“Hey, hey! Calm down!” I said, reaching out to him. He recoiled from my touch and I sighed. “Don’t get so worked up. We can… figure this out?” Now I was blowing air out of my flank.

He glared at me, but scowled, the glow of his horn dying. “Fine.”

I slumped back down and gazed up at the cloud covered sky. “Now that that’s over…”

“You know… there was something I said I’d do if I ever met the guy pulling the strings,” Silver remarked.

“Oh? What’s that-” I started, turning to look at him, just in time for him to deck me in the face with a left hook.

----------

“THE BUCK?” I swore, jolting awake. My hand shot to my face, searching for a broken jaw, but finding nothing, thankfully. “Okay… that was all a dream… good… good…” I kept touching my face, seeing if anywhere was sore or stiff. There was a faint phantom pain, but nothing serious.

It didn’t stop me from breathing heavily though. That was a seriously weird dream. Of course, with everything that was happening, what was I to expect? Sunshine and roses? An all you could eat fried chicken buffet? Someone was pounding on my door, so I needed to get up anyway. With a grumble, I shuffled to the edge of the bed and swung my legs down, hooves landing on the carpet. 

My eyes widened, probably literally, considering the previous change, as I looked down. There weren’t feet at the ends of my legs. Rather; a pair of matching grey shapes, the lower segment hard and firm, above it covered with grey fur that vanished into my jeans. Carefully, my breaths coming heavily, I tapped the left one on the floor. The sound was muffled, but it was that of two solid forms impacting, and the sensation was distinctly muted. I tapped the left one with the right, and was rewarded with a sharper clop of hardened keratin against keratin. 

I had hooves for feet. “To tartarus with waiting. We’re leaving now.”

----------

Anatomy be damned, this made no sense. I tried to wiggle my toes, but that only served to twitch the hooves. I tried to roll my ankle, which moved a good portion of my lower leg. This was happening too quickly. It was only about six hours since this all started. I did some mental projections. Crossing the border would be the biggest issue. I could get there in under five hours, hopefully before things got too noticeable and caused issues. It would mean being a bit heavy footed on the pedal, but it was doable.

Could I even drive with these? No time to waste on that. Muttering curses to myself, I carefully planted my new hooves on the floor and pushed myself upright. Walking on hooves was a challenge. Imagine walking on the tips of your toes with your ankle being far higher than it had any business being, without the feeling of strained joints or muscles behind it. I teetered uncertainly; trying to find my new center of balance. It took three attempts before I stopped falling back on my rump. 

“Having a tail might make this balance thing better,” I hissed, trying for my first step, trusting my bodies’ warnings and guidance. “Then again, a tail might be a sign of things going too far…”

I laughed at myself. As if hooves weren’t.

“TREVOR! Open up!” It was Roy’s voice. 

“Give me a minute!” I yelled back. One step, two step… Like a toddler I made my way over to my dresser. From there, I depended on the wall for support as I tried to fall into the rhythm of walking. “If the horn grew in and these were cloven, I’d be one interesting looking demon… Or a satyr.”

“Trevor! Where are you?” Roy called again. He rang the doorbell and knocked a few more times.

“Keep it up and I leave you out there!” I threatened. I was getting the hang of it by the time I made it to the door, hooves clacking on the linoleum all the way, an arm extended to the wall for support anyway. Hopefully I wasn’t damaging anything. 

Roy burst in as soon as the door opened harried in expression and bearing, a large fall coat on. Brenda was behind him, following at a more sedate pace, though looking concerned. I glared at them both, inwardly panicking. Why the hay is Brenda here? It’s been a couple hours. You’re telling me Roy couldn’t keep his mouth shut for a couple hours? She doesn’t seem to have anything going on with her, so she’s not affected. How’m I supposed to keep her from noticing the hooves?

“Explain,” I said simply, holding out a hand to Brenda. “And hello.”

“Hey Trev,” Brenda smirked. “Roy told me what’s going on…”

“Of course he did,” I deadpanned. 

“Trevor! Something else happened!” Roy cut in. He struggled with his coat for a while before managing to get it off, and spread his large leathery wings. 

“I… well then…” I managed as words failed me. I shook my head to clear it. “Yep. Totally time to get moving. Let me get my bag.”

“What happened to your legs?” Roy yelped when the cloppitty clack of my hooves finally drew attention to them. Brenda let out a mostly restrained scream. “Same thing as my wings, right?”

I didn’t bother to respond, ducking back into my room. I did another quick check of my bag to make sure I had everything I needed. Passport, wallet, hotel (well, motel) reservations, sunglasses (which I had thought would be all I needed to keep a good cover), GPS and more. He got back to find Brenda and Roy having a back and further, the wings on the latter flaring slightly.

“You can’t tell me not to,” Brenda said with the tone of one who knows they have the upper hand. 

“I just did!” Roy said, tossing his hands out, his wings mimicking and hitting the wall, making him wince before he recovered. “Besides, you don’t have anything!”

“Why did you think I have my gym bag? Passport and clothes and the works. Face it, Roy-boy; I’m coming,” Brenda stated.

“Coming where?” I asked, though it was too easy to infer the answer.

“Chicago with you guys,” Brenda said. “And don’t think I’m taking no for an answer.”

“Two questions first,” I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “Why?”

“Friends of mine in trouble. Serious and unnatural trouble, the kind you need help with and I’d regret not helping out later. You’re taking me with you.” Brenda jabbed a finger in my chest in tune with the words of her last sentence. Sounded passionate to me, and not in the ‘I can sell them for profit later!’ way. So I was tad paranoia, sue me. She still had fire in her eyes as she folded her arms. “What’s the second question?”

I grinned at her. “Your driver’s licence still valid?”

----------

The tone of Mordecai’s engine shifted as my hoof pressed heavier on the pedal, my hand tightening on the wheel, the odometer inching past the one hundred and twenty kilometers per hour zone as the mazda hurdled down the 401. Brenda glanced over at me, though I missed her look, my perception focused on road ahead of me, my mind focused on the other two.

I couldn’t get a hold of Jason. Logic said it was likely just because his phone was off and he was about to get on the plane, but I couldn’t help but worry. Turning into a pony was one thing. They were fuzzy and cute. Changelings on the other hand were gross. Okay, maybe not gross, and they could be pretty cute too, but they were rather bug like, and that wasn’t even considering the creepy factor the holes in their legs added. If that started happening on the plane…

I got voicemail when I called Sam. I got yelled at when I called his home phone and told never to call back since she didn’t have a son. I might have yelled back a bit. A little. Okay, a lot. It turned out that some of the vocabulary from the dream still stuck around in my head. And I- Silver Stroke could be rather creative with my insults. The odometer inched past one thirty and cars I pasted shrank rapidly in the rear view. 

“Trevor, don’t you think you’re going a little too fast?” Roy asked. He had called shot gun. I kicked him to the back after his wings wacked me in the face as he was trying to buckle in. So he was holed up in the middle of the bench, shifting his wings awkwardly ever so often as he tried to find a good position for them. “Maybe driving with hooves wasn’t such a good idea.”

“I’ve got this,” I said, glancing in the mirror before darting into the passing lane with more sharpness than needed, Brenda grabbing the hand rest beside me. Okay, what was the brony population like? Maybe they wouldn’t be the only ones changing, so they wouldn’t get too much flak where ever they were. Okay… at worse Jason would be put in quarantine… they were getting a bit more jittery with the ebola thing spreading… I had no clue were Sam would be. Last I heard he said he’d be making plans to get to Chicago. He never told me what they were. Why the buck didn’t he tell me? The odometer crept past one forty.

I inhaled slowly. He didn’t need to tell me, that’s why. Just that he was going. Crap. Okay, just because I didn’t know where he was didn’t mean anything. There were probably hundreds of others changing too, so it didn’t mean he was in trouble. Would voice actors and animators of the show be affected? Would de Lancie turn into Discord? Now there was a thought… 

“Trevor, let me drive,” Brenda’s voice cut into my thoughts.

“No, I’m cool,” I said. Okay, Silver Stroke hit me in the face (hard, I swear my jaw is still sore) when I met him, saying something about me messing with his life, and a flash dragging him into whatever that dreamscape was. As if turning into a pony wasn’t complicated enough. My hoof pressed a little harder and the needle jumped. “Maybe later.”

“No, pull over and let’s switch,” Brenda said slowly.

I grunted and shot her a quick glare. “Brenda, I said I’m cool.”

“Cool?” Brenda yelped as I jumped into the slow lane to weave around a honda that was crawling in the passing lane for some retarded reason. “This is not cool!”

“Would you two stop backseat driving!” I yelled, turning up the radio. Brenda turned it back down.

“Seriously, Trev, you need to calm down!” Brenda said. “You’re probably going to kill people if you drive like this!”

“What the hay are you talking about? I am calm!” I shot back in what was obviously not a calm manner.

“No you aren’t,” Roy said from the backseat. “You’re pushing one sixty right now! Slow down!”

“What? No I’m-” I voice trailed off as I finally looked at the odometer and its speeding ticket bait figures. I immediately eased off the gas and let Mordecai coast down to more sane speeds. I hadn’t even realized. Which was somewhat… distressing. 

“I don’t think trying to get yourself a ticket is going to help you,” Brenda commented, surprisingly calm considering the speeds I was hitting. 

“Um… Brenda, I’ve got a lot on my mind. You mind driving for a while?” Okay, that was a lesson in paying attention when driving. 

“Please and thank you,” Brenda said, shaking her head slowly.

We switched drivers. Brenda kept Mordecai going at a much more sensible one hundred and twenty one with the cruise. Fast enough that we were still booking it, but not so fast that we would attract unwanted attention from the highway police. On the other hoof, I’d chewed through a good number of kilometers before they finally convinced me to turn over the wheel.

In the front passenger seat now, I called Sam again. 

“Hello? Trevor?”

“SAM!” I yelled. “Where are you? Are you okay? Did anything else happen? I’ve was trying to reach you!”

“You got Sam?” Roy asked.

“Don’t yell in my ears like that, shit,” Sam complained.

“Sam that other guy you mentioned, right?” Brenda inquired. Roy confirmed it for her and I mostly tuned them out.

“Look, did you get any further changes?” I asked him again.

“Um… my hair turned blue,” he said softly after a moment. “So I have gills and a blue mane, with scales on my neck and I think some on legs.”

I closed my eyes and sighed with relief. Okay, just hair. Easy enough to handle. “Okay, that’s good.”

“Good? Something happened to you?” Sam asked. 

“Put him on speaker,” Roy insisted.

“Shush, not this time,” I said, waving Roy away. 

“Come on, Trevor!” Roy insisted.

“Why you telling me to shush?” Sam asked. “I can ask you questions if I want.”

“Sorry, that wasn’t at you,” I said to him. “Roy got his wings and I got myself a pair of hooved feet.”

“Aw man, that’s awesome! All I got was the stupid hair colour,” Sam complained. 

“Sure… awesome,” I mumbled. I considered asking him if it was awesome like his mom kicking him out to put things into perspective, but I wasn’t that low. I put him on speaker. “Look, we’re still a quarter day or so out from Chicago. Where are you?”

“Union station,” Sam replied promptly.

“Where’s that?” I asked, combing my memory.

“What’s union station?” Roy asked.

“That’s Chicago,” Brenda answered for me. I snapped my fingers as my memory supplied the rest. It was the huge and iconic train terminal in the city. 

“You’re in Chicago already?” I was surprised. I know he wasn’t far from the city, but still, I hadn’t expected him to literally jump on the next train.

“I… didn’t have any reason to hang around Milwaukee at the time,” he said slowly. “Slept part of the way down. Dreamed about Sea Bubble, actually, so it calmed me down a little.”

“Okay, I get you.” Now I really didn’t want to push about his mom being a flankhole. One the other hand, he had a dream about his OC too? I glanced back at Roy and wondered if he had one. “How ‘bout I give you the reservation details for the place I booked, Sam? You can check in for us and let them know the rest of the group is coming in a few hours.”

“You made reservations?” Brenda mused. “Efficient.”

“In a hotel? Cool,” Sam cooed. “I don’t have to pay, do I?”

“Hay if I know,” I shrugged, though he wouldn’t see it. 

“Shit... Cool anyway,” Sam sighed. “Text or email me the stuff. I’ll let you know when I get it. How long till you reach?”

“Around ten or eleven,” I responded, checking the GPS’s projections. My speed stint had shaved off some of the time from the journey. “Well, assuming we don’t have any issues picking up Jace.”

“Okay, that sounds good,” Sam said after a moment.

“If anything, we’ll call, so keep your phone close,” I warned.

“No problem. Talk to you later,” he said before the call disconnected.

I sighed and put my phone aside, leaning my head on the window. Roy poked me in the shoulder. “What’s union station?”

This was going to be a long drive.  
> Ending a Day
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“And the purpose of your visit to the United States?” the Border Officer asked, her eyes roving across the passports they handed her , flicking from the documents to the three in the car.

“Heading to a convention in Chicago,” I said promptly. If there was one thing I was fearful of doing, it was lying to a Border Officer. They literally had all the power when it came to letting something through, and we needed to get across. We had made good time, even with the traffic in the Toronto area, and Celestia hadn’t lo- the sun was just still dipping past the horizon, so the shades I on weren’t too much of an eye raising factor.

My eyes had grown in size and a tail had joined my collection of aberrant pony anatomical features, now awkwardly wedged beneath my rump. Its appearance also marked the point were pretty much my entire lower body had shifted over to the equine than human. Thankfully, the steering wheel hid the hooves for me. Fur itched a bit though, under my pants.

Roy was doing his best to keep the wings out of sight, having struggled into his coat once more, counting on it to keep them down. So far, his changes had been easy to hide, compared to mine. Aside from his wings increasing in size and getting a tail of his own, and the faint traces of colour change in his hair and the ears that started it all, he was still unremarkable.

The officer spent a few more moments looking over their passports before handing them back. “Okay then. Have a good trip!”

Making the appropriate sounds, I handed them to Brenda before pulling away from the major hurdle. In the rear view, I could see Roy craning his neck as the border station was left behind. “You know, for all the fuss you were making, I expected that to be much more… challenging.”

“We could let you off and you could try on your own,” I commented. “Luna knows I could use a laugh about now.”

“Ha, ha,” Roy said, kicking the back of my chair lightly. “So, how far now?”

“Maybe half an hour with the speed Trevor’s been hitting,” Brenda commented slyly.

“Yeah, yeah, more like 40 to 45 though,” I muttered. “Jace should be landed and waiting by then. Then we can hoof it to Chicago proper.”

“You do realize you’re using ponyisms, right?” Roy asked from the back seat. “You’ve been for a while.”

“Yeah, I realized. I’ve just been focusing on other things,” I muttered. I was pretty much certain it started after the dream encounter with Silver. I still hadn’t mentioned it to them, even though we had spent a large part of the trip thus far bouncing ideas back and forth.

That was actually what really opened my eyes to it. When terms like ‘Thaumatic Impressions across sub-dimensional barriers’ popped up. Not in the typical ‘regurgitating technobabble from shows’ manner, but into the same way you would comment about a crossed wire blowing out a fuse. It was something Silver might have learned in his time in CSGU. So apparently not only was Silver in my head, he was in my head, doing stuff up there.

“Trevor, you’re speeding again,” Brenda observed.

I carefully unclenched my hands from the wheel, taking a few calming breaths. In. And out. “Sorry… I’m… just not liking this… at all…”

“You’re turning into a pony,” Brenda commented. I could feel the look she was giving me. “A little magical talking one. You’ll be adorable, but I don’t think it’s something you should really ‘like’ right out the gates like that.”

“I still don’t get why you insisted on coming,” Roy grumbled half-heartedly. Brenda didn’t say or do anything aside from give a small smile. We all fell slight, caught up in our own thoughts and motivations, the car was silent save for the music I had playing.

I don’t know what the others were thinking about, but I was trying to sort through and identify changes in my head. Considering most of what Silver was I made up, I wasn’t sure where ‘OoC’ or Creator knowledge ended and Creation knowledge started. Basically, I concluded I was stuck with picking them out when they came up. Like the Equestria flavoured swears and terms.

I realized Brenda was humming along to some of the songs playing. I glanced her way. “You know this song?” I asked, breaking the silence. “It’s one of the fandom songs.”

“I might have a stumbled across a few I liked when I first checked out the show when Roy started watching it,” Brenda admitted.

I looked back at Roy, who was dozing, sprawled somewhat uncomfortably on the bench, wings twitching in whatever dream he was having, drooling slightly. I grimaced at that. He was so cleaning that up when he woke up. Beside me, Brenda fiddled with a lock of her hair self-consciously.

“Cool, I guess,” I murmured. So Brenda liked the fandom music. I never knew that. Admittedly, we didn’t hang out that much, so most of what I knew about her hobbies was basic. “Any favourites?”

“… Lost on the Moon,” she admitted with a little smile. We talked after that. Just talked. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what we talked out entirely, everything from the allure of My Little Pony to her latest exercise plans, but we talked all the way to the airport. It was pretty nice, to be honest. And it helped pass the time and keep me from stressing too much about what was going on.

Roy woke shortly after I found a spot to park and sent off the message to Jason to let him know where I parked. He was less interested in that the fact that we reached than he was in telling us all about the dream he had had though. To be fair, I was pretty interested in it too.

----------

He was in a forest and at first was confused as to how he got there, but when he felt the odd sense of unreality, he accepted it. Sure, why not? This was how they worked. Just show up in the middle of somewhere. Still... It was incredably vivid. "Hello?" He called out experimentally, the sound echoing as though in a deep cave.

“Echo!” A higher voice called back, sounding close. “Wooooooo! I'm the ghost of Christmas!”

Roy rolled his eyes. “Past, present or future?”

The other voice was silent for a moment before replying. “Yes!”

Roy facepalmed and the other voice broke out laughing. “So, Lyra wasn't crazy... You know... You're kinda funny looking.” A twig broke behind Roy and he turned, coming face to muzzle with a fanged grin. He jumped back in fright. “Geah! Don't do that!”

“I thought you were more observant then this...? Usually it's hard for people to sneak up on ya.”

“Trevor says otherwise. As always. About everything.”

~~~~~~

“You realize that proves me right, right?” I interrupted his retelling. “Even your dreams are telling you that you aren’t very observant.”

“Who’s telling this story?” Roy said irritably.

“Fine, go on, story teller,” I puffed. “Just let the records show, even Roy’s subconscious points out that he’s unobservant.”

“Aaaaannnnnywaaay…” Roy said, scowling at me.

~~~~~~


“Meh, Trevor's a bit of a twit at times too. Or at least, Silver is and he's an extension of him. I... think. It's kinda confusing. And Twilight isn't here to help make sense of it all. Or would that just make things worse?”

“Probbaly worse. So, you're Star?”

“The one and only!” The batpony said proudly. “Most agile flier in the Night Guard at your service!”

“You're...” Roy looked down as he got up to his feet, Star in turn dropping back to all fours. “Shorter than I expected.”

“I thought you'd be closer to my size, personally. Still, I could do worse for a creator. Though I have to ask, did you really have to give me a dang concussion?”

Roy shrugged and Star pushed him over in much the same way an overeating panda/kirby hybrid often did when Roy made a smartass remark in the chatroom he and Trevor frequented. “That really hurt! Even if it DID help me to be friends with Silver.”

Roy couldn't resist and smirked. “Spoon or Stroke?” Star pushed again, sending Roy flat on his ass, his wings flailing uselessly. “Hey! Ow! Get off! No stop! I--!”

Star began mercilessly tickling Roy until he was able to push the Batpony off. Roy, still gasping for air, japed a finger at Star. “No! Off! Bad... Fanfic creation that spawned from my imagination... And there's a sentence I never thought I'd say...”

Star smiled and Roy went on. “So... Is this just a social call or...?”

~~~~~~

“Booty call?” I asked. Brenda burst out laughing and Roy kicked my chair again.

~~~~~~

 Star smiled and Roy went on. “So... Is this just a social call or...?”

“Wish I could say. Spoilers, I'm afraid. I'd tell you if I could.”

~~~~~~

“I don’t believe you.” Weird encounter with your pony OC? Sure. But said OC making Doctor Who references? Come on, give me a break.

“Just listen!” Roy said.

~~~~~~

“Any idea why this is happening?”

“Spoilers.”

“When it will stop?”

“Spoilers.”

Roy made a face. "Any useful advice at all?"

“Yes. DO NOT attempt to fly until you completely look like me. Your bones are too heavy until that happens. And the magic isn't fully developed. Also," he pulled a rather stylish pair of sunglasses out from... Somewhere and put them on. "Get yourself a pair of these babies. And earmuffs or something.”

“Thanks. So what happens now?”

“Spoilers. Though I suppose waking up would be the first step. Still, no reason not to enjoy this. Want to see the world how I see it?”

Roy smiled and looked up, wondering if he could in this dreamscape. As an experiment, he jumped up and slowly tried to flap his arms, wondering if it'd help. Surprisingly enough it did and the two began a low flight over the trees.

----------

“Well… I’d say you were delusional,” Brenda commented, “But your wings are a bit bigger… and look more… developed.”

“And I can move them better!” Roy said. He demonstrated by manipulating and waving them for our purposes. For some reason, it made me nervous and I licked my lips, chewing on the inside of my cheek at the display. Now what’s that all about? I distractedly tapped out a beat against the car door with my hoof as Roy continued. “Star warned me not to try flying yet, though.”

“Yes, because that’s what’s important here,” I said blandly.

“He has a point though,” Brenda shrugged. “It would be pretty horrible if he tried to fly and ended up falling from the sky. Fatally horrible.”

Great. Even Brenda. I scratched at my forehead wearily. “You’re taking this pretty well,” I said to her. “Normally something talking about meeting someone in a dream is met with more skepticism.”

“You turned into a satyr. Roy grew wings. The pair of you look like classic demons. I’d have to be pretty damn stubborn to be skeptical at this point,” Brenda snorted. She fished a granola bar from her handbag and tore into it. “Besides, I pretty much forced you to take me with you. Doubting you would make me more of a hassle than an aid.”

“Batponies aren't demons,” Roy protested.

“Fine, fine,” I assented. “Roy, maybe you should try and fly. I could still use a laugh.” I ducked the hand and wing that attempted to swat me.

“So, did you have a dream about Silver?” Brenda asked.

“Well, now that you mentioned it…”

----------

While Trevor, Brenda and Roy attempted to puzzle out the matter of the dreams, Jason was on the last leg of his journey, and extremely nervous about it. The plane had pulled into the terminal, but they hadn’t started the process of disembarking yet. People’s emotions ranged from excitement to irritation as they pulled their belongings together and prepared for the finally permission to get on with their lives. The older gentleman he had been sitting beside was on the irritated side, radiating it driving Jason to distraction.

The changeling emotion sensing abilities had kicked in. With it, a slow, but steadily increasing throbbing pain in the middle of his skull.

In the crowd metal tube of the airplane, with its load of passengers, the slowly building sensations from his new abilities had been fuelling a massive headache that didn’t show promise of fading any time soon. He wanted out, away from the crowds so he could begin trying to work out what it meant.

On top of that issue, his carapace had begun forming; patches of thick dark blue, almost black spreading on his limbs, starting from the holes and inching outwards. With the gloves on and his sleeves down, he hadn’t been able to truly watch it, but he had carefully checked on it through his clothing. Oh, and his wings grew. That happened back during the layover.

He looked up when a minor commotion started. People were moving.

“Finally!” the man beside him said, his frustration both heard in his tone and… smelt? Smell seemed to be the best analog. Jason couldn’t help but agree, but kept silence, his head low, eyes downcast, gathering his things and waiting his turn to join the flow of bodies.

Being a domestic flight, there wasn’t much in terms of security and customs they had to go through, so that was a small blessing. He kept his eyes on the ground and tried to walk as quickly as he could without seeming out of place, which wasn’t hard in an airport. Everyone was rushing. He was just another face in the crowd. Admittedly one wearing a pair of gloves.

“Please put your bag on the conveyer, and empty the contents of your pockets into the basket, as well as anything that would set off the alarm.” the officer said plainly enough. “Then walk through the metal detector and retrieve your items on the other end. Shoes as well.”

“S-sure,” Jason said, quickly putting his cellphone, wallet, keys and pocket lint in the blue basket provided, depositing them on the convey ever the bags. His shoes followed before he approached the metal frame.

Crap… these just detect metal, right? Not full X-Ray like the machine. So the hole wouldn’t show up. And I’m pretty sure I-

“Sir? Your gloves as well.” Jason swore inwardly. Carefully, he pulled off the gloves, revealing a bandage wrapped around his right hand, were the worst of the holes were. He gave the officer a sheepish grin, but he didn’t seem to care about the bandages.

Thank the queens that worked, Jason through to himself as he headed for the arch again. I’m so glad I bought these in the airport shop in Fillydelphia. No one really asks about bandages unless they are concerned for your health. They definitely don’t ask you to take them off.

The metal detector beeped once and the officer made a notation on his clipboard. “All good! Have a great day in Detroit,” he said cheerfully as Jason grabbed his belongings.

“You too!” Jason said, still a trace nervous. Finally the airport was behind him. He turned his phone back on as soon as he was out in the general area and quickly downloaded all his messages. There were quite a few. He grabbed the most recent one from Trevor. Directions to where he parked. There were times he loved that guy.

Thankfully, his headaches had started to recede once he got out of the flying metal death trap, and heading out to the open and mostly empty parking lot was practically therapeutic. He checked the labelling on the signs as he walked, looking for the lot Trevor said they were in, and when he found that, looking for the mazda named Mordecai.

Someone tooted their horn, and he whirled, only to break out into a grin, his wings trying to buzz with elation, but held down by his shirt. Trevor! Finally. He jogged over and headed for the door that opened, only to hesitate.

Trevor’s eyes had worsened. There was a female, Brenda he was sure, he knew even less about her, only hearing about her second and third hand. Oh, and Trevor had hooves, visible since he was stretching them, letting them hang out his open door.

“Okay… what did I miss?”





The question of ‘what did I miss’ burned through a lot of the remaining portion of the journey. Comparing notes took up a bit more time. Roy’s insistence on comparing wings was a bit odd. He only stopped after Brenda asked if it was like comparing dick lengths, which got Jason blushing so much he looked like a beetroot.

Chicago was a welcome site. I had finally caved into logic and reason and tuned to local news stations. It wasn’t a pretty picture. True, we had all known that that flash would have affecting people across the continent, or at least across a few states and provinces, but it had just been knowledge without true realization or understanding.

Ten minutes of flipping through the stations remedied that. It might have been less than a day since it all started, but it was still in the news streams. With the expected panic and confusion. Getting into the city was far more trouble that Trevor had foreseen as well, several accidents on the highways adding to traffic that he honestly hadn’t expected that time of the night.

It was near twelve when Mordecai finally crawled into one of the parking spots in the hotel’s lot. By then, I wanted nothing more than to crawl into a bed and pass out. In fact, I was looking forward to it. The day had been far too much of a headache. I mumbled out a few lines of ‘This Day Aria’ to get the song out of my head. Every time the term ‘this day’ came up and was followed by a copula in my thoughts, the song popped up with it.

Not that it was a bad thing. It was an amazing song, and Britt McKillip was a singer worthy of the same.

Back on topic; the weirdness had quite literally woken me up that morning and hadn’t left since. Maybe I should consider charging it rent. Bah. If only you could charge an abstract concept rent. We’d be rich. It would end world poverty as the people with the most challenges and difficulties in life would have the most money!

… What the hay was I thinking about?

“You okay, Trevor?” Jason asked as we all got out of the car and mustered up the will power to actually go inside the building.

We weren’t the most unnoticeable bunch in this situation. Jason’s limbs might be covered by his sleeves and gloves and his delicate wings easy enough to keep under the shirt, but a good portion of my new legs were exposed at the end of my pants, hooves in addition to that. On a tangent; hooves were odd to walk on when it came to asphalt. I could see why horses had shoes. It wasn’t as bad as regular bare feet, but I could still feel the hard tarmac under them, and it was pretty noisy. 

Roy might have made a joke about clopping somewhere in there, but he held himself back.

Back on topic; Roy’s wings didn’t fold up the best against his human anatomy, needing the comparatively broader equine barrel they were made for and not the flat human back. Brenda shrugged, comfortable in her retained humanity. “You might as well just admit it when you go it. Would make it far easier than if you guys go full pony overnight.”

“And now I have that image in my head,” Roy groaned, shooting Brenda a glare.

“It’s a possibility,” Brenda said, shouldering her bag and heading towards the hotel, smothering a yawn. “Just standing out here isn’t going to help solve anything. It’s late and I stayed up the whole drive. I need to get some sleep.”

“Who died and made you queen?” I snarked, grabbing my own bag.

“Silence, knave! Thy princess desires a padded sleeping platform and she was told this humble facility hath a room prepared for her!” Brenda said in a pretty decent royal accent. “Now honour your princess and attain access to her royal bedchambers!”

“Keep it up and you’ll find yourself the target of a revolution,” I teased as Jason laughed.

“Hey, can I be your royal guard?” Roy asked.

“Your princess allows this!” Brenda said grandly. “It shall be your duty to punish my personal attendant if he fails in his duty.”
“If Trev’s the attendant, I’ll settle for court scribe,” Jason said. “So don’t mind me.”

I think I just attracted the craziest friends. Of course, I was behooved to be the craziest of the lot, so I trotted ahead of them. I had a reputation to uphold, after all.

… No, that was not a hoof pun. Not on purpose anyway.

Anyway, I trotted ahead of them and hit the handicapped buttons before clearing my throat and adopting an accent of my own as the male clerk looked up with a welcoming smile and what might either be a curious expression, or a peeved one for me using the handicapped button. “Hark, fair tender of this establishment! I have come to claim the chambers I did doth reserve this morn passed, for Princess Brenda of Reid and her entourage have arrived! I believe our footman preceded us and attained early access in anticipation of our arrival?”

The clerk blinked in confusion as Brenda strutted into the lobby, haughty as a peacock, Roy trying to look stoic and processional behind her, carrying the bags and Jason, who had pointed out it wasn’t the scribe’s job to be porter, trying not to laugh behind him. “I’m… sorry, what?”

Some people just couldn’t keep up. “Sorry. I’m Trevor Shaw. I had a reservation. A Sam Voxle was supposed to swing by earlier to get in, but we need a few more keys…”

Honestly, you’d think a night clerk could handle a few crazy people coming in. We weren’t even drunk! (Admittedly, I’m not sure that was a point in our favour.) Our room was on the third floor, and once the elevator doors closed, we all broke down laughing at the poor clerk’s expense. No, we weren’t the best of pon-people. I had to steer the conversation back to serious topics eventually though, and managed to get it there as I fiddled with the key card.

“Okay… this room only has two beds. Both double,” I explained. I was cheeconomical. I couldn’t exactly afford to get a massive room on such short notice. “Unfortunately, they don’t have any extra cots either.” That cost extra. See the proceeding cheeconomical comment.

“So either we share or somepony sleeps on the ground, huh?” Brenda sighed.

“Depending on where Sam is as well. Sorry, didn’t count on five people…” I sighed as well. The room was as I expected; average with somewhat dated decor. It was a fairly cheap place. There was a bag tossed against the wall. Sam’s, I presumed, though the teen wasn’t around.

Roy gave Jason big hug. “I wanna bunk with Jason!” He grinned at our expressions. “Changelings are adorable. Besides, do you want to be the one around if his emotion eating kicks in?”

“Um… maybe I should take the chair or the ground,” Jason said, shuddering at the thought.

“Nope! I dipsied it!” Roy insisted.

“You… dipsied it…” I repeated slowly, wondering where Sam got to. Maybe he stepped out?

“It’s a bit… strange that you’re calling dips on an actual person,” Brenda admitted. I had to agree with her on that. I headed to the bathroom to wash up a bit.

“I don’t want him to be sleeping on the ground. He’s a good friend. I can spare a bit of love,” Roy said. His choice of words made both Jason and I flinch, though likely for different reasons. I hit the light switch and stepped into the bathroom as they talked, but froze in the doorway at what I saw.

“Not in that way,” he continued, shooting glares around. “Get your minds out of the gutter, you pervs.”

“Fine. I’ll double with Trevor then,” Brenda said. “I don’t exactly want to sleep in the ground, and I’m not letting him do it when he drove most of the way and actually got the room.”

Roy gave her a coy smile. “Really? What do you think about that, Trev?” I was too busy being shell shocked. Roy frowned. “Trev?”

They all came over to see what was up. In retrospect, I probably should have slowly backed away and closed the door. But really, I never expected to see Sam, scales covering a good portion of his body, hair one of the weirder shades of blue, somewhere in the turquoise or cyan range, buck naked and sleeping in the bath tub filled with water.

“The buck..?”
> Morning in Chicago Shimmers
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I take it this happened before?” Jason commented dryly from the sideline as another thump could be clearly heard, even by them sitting that far away.

“Well, you know what happened to Silver,” Star responded somewhat sadly, a slight wince in his tone. “Okay, that one is probably going to leave a mark. Trevor’s the guy that wrote it.”

“And it doesn’t help that both of them are stubborn jerks,” Roy added. “What did you think was going to happen if they ever met? My money’s on the furry one, by the by.”

“Right, because I’ve obviously spent time thinking about what would happen if I met a great and powerful being who created me,” Chitter huffed, most likely rolling his eyes. It was an odd group. Two humans at various stages of transformation, a nocturne pegasus and a changeling sitting nonchalantly, watching a unicorn and a satyr have a grudge match.

“I didn’t think they would end up in a few holds barred brawl,” Jason said, matching his OC’s tones.

So yeah, I was a bit preoccupied while those four were having their chat. The night before ended in a swirl of activity. After a swath of exclamations of surprise and distress on the part of all parties involved, we left Sam to his watery bed, encouraged by a chair wedged firmly under the door knob. Petty? Perhaps, but I had worked hard on getting the chair placed in such a manner than it actually did prevent the door from being opened. 

Fine. Brenda convinced me to let him out since the rest of us did need to use the washroom, but still; the bathtub was his sleeping spot for the night. I would have felt a lot better if he didn’t seem so happy about it. 

So I was in something of an ill mein, trying to get some sleep with an athletic young lady on the bed beside me, two friends on the second bed, and a fifth presumably naked once more in the bathroom a few feet away. It didn’t help that I found myself in the forest again, this time with pleasant company, and one not so pleasant company. 

“Stop… resisting!” Silver grunted, straining to push past the hand I had firmly gripped around his muzzle to keep him at bay, the other intercepting the hooves that attempted to strike me, each glancing blow only bearable because proximity prevented him from getting much power behind them. “Take your beating… Like a Stallion!”

“Oh my…” Roy said, his tones and manner much like George Takai.

Considering he’d already gotten quite a few blows in, I decided that following that request was counter-productive to my well-being. Instead, I kicked him hard in the shin. Hooves, a tad dicey to balance on, but wonderful for dishing out blunt force trauma. He squawked and rolled off me, swearing and clutching at his rear leg. I staggered to my feet and whipped the trickle of blood that ran from my nose away with a grin. “Not so high and mighty now, are you, huh?”

“So… that’s 5 to 4 in Trevor’s favour,” Roy commented as I leapt unto Silver’s back and tried to pin him down. “Let’s see if he can keep the advantage this time.”

“Um… anyone else more concerned with the fact that we all seem to be sharing a dream?” Jason asked. Chitter chirped in a noncommittal fashion. “And didn’t I see Sam before Silver and Trev started duking it out?”

I managed to hook my arm around his neck and wrap my legs around his barrel, throwing myself to one side to force him off balance. I kicked at the same hind leg I hit earlier and he crumpled beneath me.

“He and Sea Bubble went off to the puddle that appeared and are playing with each other.” Roy paused as Jason facepalmed, Star struggling to hold back laughter. “Not in that way. Get your minds out of the gutters.”

“Say Uncle!” I yelled, lying on my back so I could keep Silver off the ground while I held him in a chokehold. He squirmed, his hooves flailing in the air as he tried to free himself. 

“Never!” He yelled back, slamming his head into my nose, again. Shooting pain and the moment of blurred vision caused me to lose my grip on him and he slipped away; rolling off me and quickly putting a couple feet of distance between us as I slowly got up once more.

“I’m pretty sure it’s just cathartic for them,” Chitter buzzed as Roy called out 6-6. He nudged Jason. “You can feel it, right? Their emotions? Neither one of them are really angry, they are frustrated.”

Both Silver and I paused, turned, and glared at Chitter. The bug grinned back at us. “See?”

Silver grumbled under his breath, limping slightly. I followed, tenderly pressing on my nose, making sure it wasn’t broken. “Damn, Silver, your head’s a rock.”

“My head? I think I got a concussion from hitting your’s,” Silver complained with a slight wheeze. He coughed a little and rubbed at his throat. 

“Which proves you’re both hard headed jerks,” Roy said cheerfully. 

“Ha, ha,” I said without much enthusiasm. I spat a glob of mingled blood and saliva off to the side. “Man… please tell me none of this will be around when I wake up.”

“It’s a mental construct,” Silver said in a bored tone. “At most you’ll have some trace aches here and there. Solely psychosomatic.”

“So now that Silver and Trev got their lover’s spat out of the way-,” Jason started.

“Yeah! I still hate the guy, but there are more important things right now,” Silver scowled.

“- Can we please get back to the ‘why are we in a shared dream’ question?” Jason continued as if Silver never interrupted. 

“That’s probably genius’ fault,” Silver muttered, dropping to his haunches.

“Take one unicorn with a talent for mind affecting spells and knowledge of dream magic, one changeling with emotional bonds with his companions and give those ties and abilities to two humans with no experience managing them, and you end up with a subconscious dreamscape that draws on the emotional ties,” I explained.

“Okay… sorta makes sense,” Roy nodded. “Just one thing… how the hay do you know that?”

“I made him up, which includes the gist of his magic, now I’m getting his know-how on the actual magic,” I said blandly. “And I’m clever.”

“Speaking of…” Silver said. “Chitter, anything you need to give your guy the heads up about?”

“Um… don’t try to use your more active abilities,” Chitter said after a moment’s thought. “Changeling magic doesn't regenerate like a regular pony’s magic, and we need love energy to stock up.”

“I keep telling you, I’ve got lots of love to spare!” Roy protested.

“And draining love energy drains the source, so if you don’t want to hurt those around you, don’t use up your magic. You can survive off friendship and ambient emotions no problem, but if you dig too deep you’ll start getting into trouble.

“Oh… and…” Chitter leaned in close and whispered something in Jason’s ear.

“WHAT?” Jason yelled, making them all flinch. He looked at Chitter with something akin to terror. “You’re kidding, right? Please tell me you’re kidding. I mean, it makes sense, but…” 

Chitter shook his head with a grin. “Still a guy though.”

“Changeling biology?” Roy asked. Jason sighed and nodded. 

“Good for you,” I commented. I raised my eyebrows when Silver motioned for me to move closer. Oh, brilliant. What joyous secret of lunar touched unicorns was I to learn now? As I leaned in close, he suddenly reared back and gave me a damn headbutt again. 

“OH FRIGGING WHAT THE HELL?” I swore, staggering back and falling to my ass. 

“OH BUCK A MINOTAUR SIDEWAYS UNDER THE NOONDAY SUN!” Silver swore himself. The others just stared, stunned. “Why is your head so tough!?”

“Why’s your’s? Jeeze. Did we not hit each other enough earlier?” I complained. “Seriously!”

“Look, right now you’re the central point of whatever’s happening to everyone, so I figured I could give you some ideas on how to… moderate the effects, since your horn grew in,” Silver said. “Tartarus spawn… Almost hit your horn too…”

“Wouldn’t that be your horn?” Star asked. “He got your scar too.” He pointed to the old wound that somehow formed on my jawbone, matching the one Silver had. 

“And couldn’t you simply, I don’t know, tell me!” I demanded, too irate to both worrying about Star’s points.

“It would take too long. So I gave you direct transfer of the ideas. Also, it was more satisfying.” Silver said. Really? I scowled at him as he motioned for us to follow him. “Now come on, we need to grab the puddlecolts so I can show you something.”

Roy and Star exchanged looked, but shrugged and took off after my alterego, Jason and Chitter lingered a bit. “Seriously,” Chitter asked, “What did you do to make him that upset at you? The only time I remember feeling that mix from him was when we were on the Still Echo case.”

“Still Echo?” Jason asked. We both looked at him. “Hey, I haven’t got that weird rapport you and Roy do. You know I suck at backstory. I let you guys write it for me.”

Chitter shook his head in a manner that clearly questioned his place in the world if that was the person who made him, but explained. “I’m a rogue changeling, right? Formerly part of Chrysalis’ army? Part of my agreement with the crown and nobility was that I work with the guard. Still Echo is… he’s a nocturne that lives up to all the negative stereotypes. Violent, depraved, criminal tendencies of the worst kind, a mar on Equestria’s harmony.” 

I flinched at each word. Yep. That described Still Echo. Chitter went on. “From what I hear, he’s even worse than what they say Changelings are like. Theft, kidnapping for ransom, rape, someponies even say he’s a murderer. He’s never been caught, but Silver always get’s that same mix whenever he’s mentioned.”

“And that’s why Silver hates me,” I sighed, closing my eyes slowly. 

Chitter managed to convey the ‘raised eyebrow’ look despite his lack of that feature. “He hates you because Still Echo was never caught?”

I slowly stood and started after the others. “No. He hates me because he’s his father.”

----------

“Carry me?” Sea Bubble asked, trying his best to look cute. He was pretty average for a seapony shades in the blues and blue greens, splashing his tail playfully in the water, his wet mane clinging to his skull. Unfortunately, he was surrounded by ponies in the dark shades, and his bright pastel coat only looked even more girly in contrast. 

“No,” Silver said flatly. 

“Not it,” Roy and Star said in unison.

Sea Bubble was an anomaly in the original party all the other OCs came from. Silver Stroke? Intelligence officer  in the Night Guard. Star Defender? Flier in the Night Guard’s Shadowbolts. Chitter? Renegade from the Changeling’s army and under probation in the Royal Guard, most often with the Night Guard. There was a trend there. It was the premise of the game when it was proposed. Sea Bubble? Teenage seapony exploring the surface world of Equestria. He didn’t even have a set of landlegs for Luna’s sake. 

“Carry me?” he asked as Chitter, Jason and I caught up. He gave me the same pleading look, almost close to tears, his lower lip quivering slightly, water dripping from his mane irregularly. It wasn’t foal level adorable, but you’d have to be a special kind of heartless to refuse that face.

“Ha, ha…. No.” I was a DM, a Game Master, A Lord of Dice. Being heartless was in the job description. “Sam, carry your OC. He’s your responsibility. Silver, lead on.”

“Aww, come on! I’m weak and feeble,” Sam protested. We were all doing our best not to look directly at him. As it turned out, we popped up in this dreamscape wearing whatever you had on before you fell asleep. Which was, in Sam’s case; nothing. Roy donated his shirt to the cause, but still, it had been awkward.

“Carry me?” Sea Bubble pleaded, aiming his attempt at Sam. Unfortunately for Sam, he was not a DM, and he caved easily. Soon enough, our group was off again, trudging through the forest’s underbrush, a mismatched party of ponies, transforming humans, one changeling and one seapony happily gurgling as he rode piggy back. 

Chitter’s look was mingled fear and concern, and kept darting between Silver and myself. Jason had just winced once, but moved on. I suppose that’s the difference between those to whom it’s a story, and those who live the life. 

“So…” I asked after we were walking for a while. Dreams made perspective a difficult thing to pin down. “What are we looking for?”

“Not what,” Silver said. He stopped us and moved a branch, pointing. “Who.”

Okay. Somewhat cryptic. We had reached the edge of the forest. The rest was just emptiness stretching out. Sitting at the very edge of the treeline was an earth pony mare; a peach coat with a dark pink mane braid and hanging over her shoulder, her tail well styled. I couldn’t see her cutie mark from where I was. “So… you brought us to see a mare?”

“Think,” Silver said, the ‘stupid’ implied, but not stated. “Why would there be a mare here?”

“Because you’re lonely?” Roy quipped. 

“Just go talk to her,” Silver said, pushing me out into the open.

“Dude!” I staggered forward a few steps, still not used to the hoofed feet. Of course I ended up falling flat on my face.

“Are you okay?” a female voice asked. 

“Not really,” I grumbled, pushing myself into a seated position. She had brown eyes, looking at me with concern and a slightly amused smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Hi. I’m Trevor. You are?”

“Melody Scales,” she smiled and circled me. Her cutie mark was interesting. Six coins falling, no, positioned on a diagonal staff; coins made into musical notes.

“Well, nice to meet you, Melody,” I looked over my shoulder and glared at where the others were. Silver poked out enough to make a ‘get on with it’ motion with a hoof before ducking back into cover. Really? Get on with what? I sighed. “So… mind if I ask you what you’re doing here?”

“Of course! I was… I… was…” Melody hesitated, losing some of her animation. She struggled a bit, her hoof extended hesitantly, looking from side to side. I waited, letting her think. Honestly, I don’t know what Silver had expected me to do. It was a mare. In our dreams... Okay; tad weird. But really, what was I supposed to do about it? I wasn’t a magic unicorn yet.

“Waiting,” she said finally. She sank a lot of sadness into the word. 

“Waiting for what?” I encouraged.

“For… her… to hear me, I suppose,” Melody said. She sat, staring off into the distance. “Why do you think she hasn’t come?”

“I dunno,” I said honestly, shrugging a little. I glanced back at Silver. He and Roy were smiling. At least Jason and Sam looked confused. I rolled my eyes and turned back to Melody, trying to figure out what she was… no way… “Have you tried reaching out to her?”

“I’ve…” Melody paused, and then smiled bashfully. “I don’t remember.”

“Um… what can you remember?” I asked. I heard moments behind me.

Melody considered it for a while, pawing at the ground. “… Singing.”

“So… Maybe you haven’t song the right song for her?” If I was right about this…

“The right song?” Melody said thoughtfully, falling silent again. 

I was going to push her a little more, but she started singing. Her voice was soft, and her singing slow and melancholic, but it was lovely. “Saying goes… that when you're stuck on a mountain… You try to go up, you try to go down, you turn around… To face a wall so you can face yourself… realizing you've made a mistake…” Her voice trailed off.

I recognized that song. It didn’t make sense, but I think I got an epiphany. Silver came up beside me and nodded. “You realize it now, right?”

I nodded numbly. I was starting to get numb, my legs and waist tingling slightly. “But… how? She’s not… I mean… why?”

“Melody Scales,” Silver said softly as the mare stood up with confidence. “Music.”

“So together we are all lost on the moon, We all share our home on the moon, we forever we are lost on the moon, together we pay your crime on the moon!”

Melody’s voice trailed off and I realized the dream was fading. She smiled at me again. “You think she heard me?”

Maybe it was a trick of the eyes, but I thought I saw someone standing behind her. “Yeah…” I said softly. “Pretty sure she did….”

----------

Melody’s voice was still in my head when I woke up. The others hadn’t woken up yet, if the snores and soft breathing were anything to go by. The noises of the city were muted, but a reminder that people were up and about, despite the darkness the heavy curtains imposed on in room. One high point of the pony eyes; these had good low light vision. 

Toying with the idea of going back to sleep, I reflected on the night. I really hoped that would be the last of the shared dreams. Or the weird dreams all together. I think I could survive not meeting Silver in my dreams anymore. 

I stiffened when someone moaned softly beside me and shifted on the bed. And here was the other conundrum. Melody was definitely Brenda’s OC. But as far as I knew, she wasn’t a brony. Or a pegasister. Sure, she had watched a few episodes with Roy, even one or two when I had been around, and we… had talked about a bunch of fandom music on the way…

Okay… what defined a brony? Seriously? And when would she have made an OC? Brenda rolled over in her sleep, shifting a bit closer to me. I Blinked and Swallowed nervously. Did her hair look different? Her hair was different. She sighed in her sleep, a slight smile on her face. Her breath was warm on my skin. Yep. Time to get up and get moving before… stuff.  Stuff would be bad. Very. Damn. Okay, time to get moving before stuff gets worse. On a side note; dang. Just… dang.

I yawned and rolled into a sitting position, rubbing my nose and jawline, trying to massage the psychosomatic pains away. Damn, Silver hit hard. This whole this was making less and less sense. Wait, turning into ponies didn’t make sense in the first place. I sighed and ran my hand over my face, stopping when my fingers brushed against the newly old scarred skin on my jaw. I explored higher to where my horn was.  

Lovely thing to remember him by, I thought. I got up carefully, taking my phone with me as I headed for the window as quietly as my hoofed feet would let me, not quite ready to wake the others. The city noise level rose as I got closer to the window, and I ducked behind the curtains to look out at the world. I hummed to myself as I watched vehicular and pedestrian traffic go by. Morning in Chicago shimmers... Morning in Chicago shines...

Wonder how many people out there are in our situation, I mused. There was a slight clink as my new horn, Silver’s horn, hit the glass when I leaned in too close, trying to take a peek at the lot below. I flinched reflexively before sighing and trying to catch a glimpse of my reflection in the glass. Apparently I’d gotten pony ears overnight as well. “Lovely.”

“Well… enough time wasting…” With one last yawn, I threw the curtains open. 

“Good morning Campers!” I yelled cheerfully, my voice and the bright rays of the sun doing their dastardly tasks of waking the formerly peaceful sleepers. Brenda buried herself under the covers to hide from the light. Jason looked like he was willing to wake up properly, but Roy’s stretching wing made the choice for him when it pushed him off the bed. 

“I was getting up on my own,” Jason complained in a bland tone. 

“Oh, sorry Jason,” Roy yawned. 

In the meantime, I trotted over to the bathroom door, still yawning and rapped on it. I was not meant to be up yet. “Get up, Sam! People need to use the bathroom.”

“I’m up, I’m up,” his sleepy response came. I could hear water splashing inside, so it was good enough for me.

“Hey, I’m getting fur,” Roy suddenly announced back in the main portion of the room. “I was hoping to go hooves like Trevor.”

“Good for you,” Jason sighed. “At least you have your hair.”

“Changeling crests are cool too,” Roy retorted with a laugh. 

“And here I thought I was done with military haircuts when I moved out of my parents’ house,” he said a bit dejectedly.

“What are you tw-- wow,” I said, my voice trailing off. Jace apparently lost all his hair overnight. He ran his hands over the newly bare scalp and toyed with the spines. He even had changeling ears to go with it. “Well, that’s apparently a thing…”

“You shouldn’t talk, old man,” Jason retorted. I glanced at the dresser mirror. Apparently, I’d somehow missed the fact that my hair had gone silver grey with a gold streak through it. I suppose the whole thing with the scar and the horn distracted me.

Roy was sporting fur over most of his upper body, I could only speculate about the rest, and his hair had started changing; taking on the red and light brown hues of Star’s mane. Jason… really needed to put his gloves on. My arms hurt looking at his. The show did not properly portray what holes through limbs really looked like. And he was getting that exoskeleton/fur mix changelings had and had the faintly glowing blue eyes. 

“Anyway, there’s one more thing to address…” I sighed and poked the lump under the covers. “Brenda, time to get up.”

She groaned inarticulately but pulled the blankets aside and stretched widely. Considering the other three in the room were healthy young males, I was sure I wasn’t the only one to appreciate a stretching female form in the morning, but I bravely ignored the fact that she had removed her bra to sleep.

“Brenda, may I be the first the welcome you to the herd,” I said in a stately fashion, waving her to the dresser and the mirror.

“Welcome to… what?” She yawned, looking at the mirror, and at long length of dark pink hair that now crowned her head. She squeaked. It was adorable. And another note; her eyes shrank as she squeaked. They must have been her first change.

The ensuing silence was only broken when Sam emerged from the bathroom, his mane soaked, his lower limbs scaled and upper ones tinted cyan blue.

“Brenda is a brony?” Roy asked, a bit taken aback by the turn of events.

I sat down beside her on the bed and hugged her. “Remember the mare we say in the dream? Melody Scale? Brenda’s OC.”

“How?” Brenda asked. “I mean… I… I’m not a big fan of the show or anything. I don’t hate it, but I don’t really love it or anything! I just liked some of the music that Roy found and downloaded it for myself and-”

“Don’t ask me to explain the philosophy of what makes a brony or pegasister,” I shrugged. “But Brenda made the cut. Silver said it was the music.”

“I… guess it was a good thing I decided to come with you,” Brenda said, crawling to the edge of the bed and lifting locks of her hair free with a dazed expression. “Um… do you… know..?”

“Earth Pony. Her cutie mark is a music… scale I think is the term, with coins marking the notes,” I answered, guessing at what she wanted to know. “Peach fur. Very good singer. She sang lost on the moon for you.”

“Extremely good singer,” Roy agreed. “Star was crying.”

“So was he,” Sam added. 

“I think I heard it,” Brenda said slowly. “Just before you woke me up, I dreamed I was alone in an empty place, then someone starting singing to me, and brought… people, I think. I don’t remember how it ended well, just that she had a lovely voice.”

Brenda exhaled slowly. “Okay… I can deal. What do we do next?”

“The convention,” Roy said. “It’s what we came for. We just have one more reason to go.”