The definition of tolerance is simple, so what happens when the world is flipped upside down?
The definition of tolerance is simple: A fair, objective, and permissive attitude towards those whom are different than those around them. So what happens when a portion of the world's populace is changed by a strange anomaly once thought to be benign and harmless? Can the world tolerate more differences, with the mess it already has?
A/N: I know the rating says "Everyone", but it leans more towards Teen for vague sexual references and mild language. Oh, and with the ideas I currently have in story, that is definitely going to change. Probably to Mature.
What is sleep? According to the beloved dictionary, sleep is to take the rest afforded by a suspension of voluntary bodily functions and the natural suspension, complete or partial, of consciousness; cease being awake. It is a function that is required for all, or more specifically animals with a large enough brain, in order to perform in their daily lives. Humans need it, raccoons need it, birds need it; hell, many believe that even sharks need it. Something about they rest “half” their brain at a time since their oxygen intake requires them to be in constant motion. It is quasi-essential for all of us.
So what about dreams?
Again, the dictionary defines dreams simply as a recurrence of images that run across the brain whilst asleep. Some take a different theory. That dreams are a gateway to other worlds and universes, seeing into the stars in ways currently incomprehensible to us humans. Some believe that dreams can be precursors to things that will happen; like a form of fortune telling or predicting the future – makes for great sci-fi. In conjunction with those possibilities, some writers think that maybe when we write, we are actually subconsciously connecting with a real universe; on a sort of “tour” that we feel with our words as they are recorded. Because this connection is completely incapable of being “felt”, it is chalked up to the mystical powers of imagination (insert Spongebob rainbow here).
Anyways, I know I didn't completely believe in that sort of stuff. At least... until I awoke one morning, not feeling quite myself.
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
Damp.
...and damn cold.
That was the first inklings of feeling that permeated my flesh as I stared up, exhaustion seeped into my being, at the unadorned staccato ceiling of my studio apartment. The dampness under the sheets told me I had been sweating in bed again. Happens every so often when warmer nights hit. Yet, at the same time it felt different somehow, like it stuck to me; I was reminded of a brief stay in Florida, their extremely hot and sticky humidity. Tucson was hot, yes, but the humidity only existed closer to Mount Lemon. Not down here where my humble apartment complex sat in the middle of the city, a short distance from the air force base where I worked.
For the moment, I ignored the pasty feeling in my mouth and the not unfamiliar coldness. Something else didn't seem right, and I couldn't put my finger on it. The ceiling above me was in stark focus, every obtrusive spat of stucco on the roof that was my neighbor's floor sprang out in detail, like a vertigo that seemed utterly alien to me for so very long. My eye sight had been poor since late elementary school, and I was required to wear glasses.
My sore neck protested as I twisted my head towards the area designated as the kitchen. Sure, I could have looked at the alarm clock right next to the bed/couch (it was one of those hybrid couches that could fold down into a bed if needed), only a scant foot away, but my suspicions needed a farther away target: the digital clock on the opposite side of the domicile.
5:42 A.M.
I mouthed the time, not even having to squint at the clarity of the small numbers. Nearly six in the morning. How. The. Hell. I groaned, and wanted to smother myself in the wet, salty pillow, no matter how gross it was.
I've never gotten up this early; especially not on my day off. And especially, especially, on a planned leave day. I had taken several days off from my job at work for a game launch that was important to me. Co-workers and managers didn't understand, but I didn't really care; after all, they did the same thing for golf tournaments, which were the same thing in my book.
I closed my eyes, and promised only five more minutes. A lie I had told myself many times in my life as a twenty-one year old guy. Five minutes always turned into ten, then twenty, then evolved into hours. Truth be told, I hadn't gone to bed at anything close to a godly hour; it was close to two in the morning when I decided to finally hit the hay. Which meant I would be running on a little over three hours of sleep if I decided to get up, and stay up, for the rest of the day.
Unlikely to happen.
I waited.
And waited...
And waited some more.
Despite the burning under my eyelids and the rising concern at the discovery that my eyesight had changed, (which hadn't quite clicked because of the groggy fog in my brain) sleep would not come to plunge me into oblivion. Damn it.
I groaned loudly, and the tone seemed strange to me. I always had a gruff, deep voice like my dad had. As such, I was often mis-identified as him if my voice wasn't connected to my appearance. Like on the answering machine, or shouting around a corner. I blinked a few times, and again stared at the ceiling, annoyed that I would have to get up.
Pivoting on my hips, I sat up... and paused.
Everything felt... wrong. My arms felt weird, as though I had slept with a long thin sweater on. My legs felt twisted, but there was no pain that was associated with the word. Mentally, I felt my back itch in a very odd way. It had that tingling, pin-pricking sensation that happens when a leg or arm falls asleep from circulation loss. But even the strange sensation was, well, odd. It felt on my back, but at the same time, detached and foreign like a leech that clung to my flesh. Also, I have never had an experience where an entire side of my body fell asleep.
Suddenly a horn blared just outside the window, as an unseen car flew by the apartment.
I felt my ear turn to the sound as it passed. Well, I cocked an eyebrow (at least the brow seemed normal), that's... different. I could always move my ears a little bit, but this was almost like ten fold more; like a full twist. My eyes blinked a few times in response, before I decided to dismiss the occurrence as my imagination.
I stared across the room at my entertainment system. Nothing special, forty-two inch HDTV with an xbox 360, several open DVD and game cases littered the open glass shelves. A marble stone coffee table that was almost too large for the studio dominated the central space in between. I had insisted on it, given that I already had some matching end tables. The prominent decoration being my trusty laptop, with a hookah in the center. No, I didn't smoke, but it still made a nice center piece. My eyes darted from the various objects in the apartment.
Everything was bigger, and I frowned at the suspicious thought.
My height was a five foot, eleven inches. Unless I'm mistaken, that was slightly above average with a moderate muscular build thanks to my job in the grocery store I currently worked at. Normally when I sit up from the couch-bed hybrid, the top of the coffee table came up to my knees when I half squatted. This caught my attention because the bed was a little low. But now it felt like the bed had risen, somehow, an extra foot and now I sat perfectly straight. I winced at this realization.
Did I shrink or something?
No, that's just crazy talk, I told myself. Shaking the disturbing thought from my head.
Still, I thought maybe I should take a look at myself in the mirror, it might solve a few questions and put my mind at ease.
My mind had the motion in process, having had done this a billion times before, muscle memory should have kicked in at an instant to balance my shifting weight as I attempted to stand. Suddenly the world tilted, and the carpet (and coffee table) shot up to greet my head. The stone showed no mercy as a sharp pain racked my right temple, then the thump followed from landing on the much softer (but not that soft) carpet. I lay there, reeling from the completely unexpected fall, baffled.
I had had moments where I got up too quick, feelings of vertigo and nausea assaulting. But I knew what that was like, and had the reflexes to compensate. Or so I thought. No vertigo, no nausea, no nothing. Just... boom, table. I tasted copper in my mouth, and cursed as I bit my tongue from the fall, and felt a cooling sticky sensation along my right temple.
“Ouch,” I said to no one in particular, groaning as I tried to stand once more.
Blinking, I used my forearms to push myself to my knees, and felt a small sense of pride as I lifted off the carpeted floor. Then immediately grimaced at the tiny blood stain. Great.
Using the damnable table and the bed as leverage, I lifted myself up until I was back on my feet. At that point, my hips felt like they might cramp up -- like what people always said would happen if one went swimming directly after eating, and I feared for my balance. Cautiously, arms spread wide ready to catch on something, I made my way to one of the two segregated rooms in my studio, eager to make sure the gash in my head wasn't as bad as it felt. My head throbbed like hell. It took a lot longer than I would have liked, each ponderous step was suspiciously difficult, and I couldn't recall whether or not I had drunk any strong alcohol last night, but eventually I was in the bathroom.
Immediately I looked up at the gash and sighed in relief. It wasn't nearly as bad as... it... felt...
Orange.
I was confronted by what appeared to be a small orange creature with large eyes and perky, pointed ears. Flowing brown hair that had two tones of the same color in it – eerily familiar. Wide steel blue eyes stared at me from an alternate universe. Slowly, the creature's maw opened in what appeared to be shock. Its arms, also coated in short orange fuzz, braced against the reflected counter top just below it. I looked down, there was a long frizzy tail just inside the mirror's reflective surface that matched the patch on the creature's impossibly large head.
The creature reminded me of an equine – just much more pastel and completely... weird. I had seen them before, but just where I had spotted them eluded me. The answer drifted out of sight in the back of my mind as I tried to reach for it. As before, the bathroom seemed much larger, like that of the main room before. If memory served, and this creature was the size I suspected, I should be towering over it by at least two feet; but instead we were eye level. Staring.
For a while, as I stared at the creature, I entertained the thought that this was some kind of dream. Surely that's what it must have been... right? Certainly this was some very, very weird, alcohol or maybe drug induced dream. Maybe last night's meal wasn't fully cooked, and it was giving me nightmares now. It has certainly happened before. For a moment, I couldn't recall the name of the room I was in, and then I remembered:
Bathroom.
Bathrooms have mirrors.
Mirrors reflect whatever stands... in... front of... them...
An unmanly squeek escaped my mouth as the thoughts avalanched, slapping me in the face. The mirror mocking my every move and my appearance. Not some random as hell creature!
The breath of surprised air that escaped my mouth startled me. I jerked my arms up to my mouth and the mirror mimicked. Instead of fingers I felt hard stubs, and winced as I slammed my lips harder than I meant to. At that moment the strange illusion vanished from view as a new falling vertigo overtook me, and the world disappeared in a thud of blackness.
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
“Ouch,” I said for the second time, and rubbed the latest bump on my head. The throbbing pain made it difficult to think.
Okay, something is wrong. I know that much. I just need to figure out what. I took several deep breaths, and sat up sluggishly on the cold bathroom tile that had slowly warmed to the touch of my flesh. I examined the... things... that had replaced my legs and feet, and recognized the latter as hooves; the name of the joint structure eluded me at the moment. I forced myself to continue, and held up my arms.
They, too, ended in hard stubby hooves. Oddly enough, they were indistinguishably blended to my body as a whole, covered by the short orange hair of a coat of fur.
So maybe that explains the sweat, I thought, and recalled one night I had made the mistake of sleeping under the comforter with a full compliment of clothing on, including shoes and a leather jacket. I was too drunk, and too tired, to care though; paid for it in the morning of course.
One of the two articles of clothing I had worn the night before now were mysteriously missing. My chest was still bound in the plain white t-shirt, now three sizes too large. An irrational sense of embarrassment washed over me, and I felt the blushing burn on my cheeks as I realized my green boxers were gone. My gaze shifted to the only window in the studio, and my heart rate declined in gratitude that I had the forethought to close it before I went to sleep. Of course, I somehow think seeing a pony (that was the word!) would be weirder than seeing a half naked white guy.
I felt something swish along my leg.
I watched as the long, scruffy tail with two different shades of brown curled around my midsection, attempting to hide my underwearless shame. The softness seemed somehow calming, and I thought maybe it was a subconscious thing. Most likely it was, and recalled the feeling of my ear twisting to the car horn from earlier.
After a few more moments of dumb-foundedness on the floor, I decided to try standing again. Strange as it sounds, it was far more difficult balancing on four legs than on two. Every hard-wired instinct to stand on just two legs screamed at me. Falling didn't reoccur, but the fear of it got my adrenaline going. Banging your head hurts. After a moment I reared up and postured in front of the mirror again, steeling myself.
The creature... I... stared back at me. All the same as before.
The first thing I noticed as I leaned a bit closer was that the expression of confusion was far more... pronounced. This almost cartoon-ish face seemed to be far more expressive than an ordinary human face. I shuddered at the thought of not being human. Clearly I was not human right now, yet my mind seemed unchanged as far as I could tell.
My train of thought was interrupted by the aggravated itching underneath my shirt. The same scratching torture that had assaulted me in bed. The mirror obliviously reflected the magnified look of annoyance on my face. Damn it! This shirt needs to go!
Getting it off, where to start?
Normally I'd grab the waist and just pull upwards until the article of clothing would pass over my head, but without fingers how the hell would this work? I tested the movement articulation of my new head and neck – surprisingly flexible. I think I could easily twist back and grasp the shirt with my mouth, and maybe pull it off.
I was about to commence, and had the rim of the white cloth between my teeth – and paused. I was still leaning against the bathroom counter. Knowing my luck, I would somehow get stuck and panic, and bonk myself on the head once again.
“Not this time,” I muttered to myself, almost wincing at the squeaky voice that had replaced my deep throat. One problem at a time; this itch needs to go! I walked, (trotted?) clumsily, back into the main room, and I tried to put as much distance as my home would allow from objects that could potentially hurt.
I grasped the white cloth in my mouth (yuck) again, and gently pulled forward. First snag, and I felt pressure at my shoulder. I groaned, it's never that easy. After a moment of consideration, I lowered my front half to the ground, and when the tension released, the shirt glided forward almost effortlessly. New problem: the shirt was now stuck on my head.
Arrugh! I really missed my fingers right about now.
This dilemma took a bit longer to figure out. But after several minutes and colorful curses later, I finally dislodged the damnable shirt. It was immediately forgotten as the itch utterly disappeared. That wasn't all that happened however as I felt a massive twitch, and movement on my back for just a moment before it settled down peacefully.
I blinked several times, then craned my neck to observe my back (shenanigans I say at the thought).
Feathers. A wing with feathers adorned the length of my left side. A quick shake of my head confirmed a matching appendage on my opposite side. My jaw dropped to the floor, and I could practically feel my irises as they shrank in some comical, overly-expressive way.
A pegasus!? How did I know that?
I've not only awoken to find that I am a cartoon-ish equine, but a pegasus cartoon-ish equine.
Mind. Blown.
An involuntary smirk crossed my face when my jaw decided to lift itself. Flying was something of a personal dream of mine; although not quite like this. This was better. Jets and propeller driven craft and other means of flying in the great blue sky, watching as the ground disappeared, soaring above the clouds. I tried and failed to suppress another unmanly sound that came close to squee.
I tried to open my wing gifts, to see what my wingspan might be; a mental guess said around three feet, but the hell did I know? I was a creature straight out of myth now. When they didn't respond, I prodded them with a hoof.
And winced.
Ouch! I felt like I had been stung by an angry spider. A familiar needling sensation washed over me where I had touched. Were the feathery wings numb? Quite possible, I reasoned, in all likelihood I had slept on top of them for hours. Under ideal circumstances, arms and/or legs can go numb even quicker. On the other hand (Hoof? This was weird.) maybe my human brain couldn't handle using the pegasus wings yet; after all walking had been, and still is, a tremendous challenge.
Even with the comforting thought that flight was still very palpable, it still sucked. If for no other reason than I couldn't leap out the window and fly right now. Another sensation at the back of my skull, and I felt my ears press against the back of my head.
Odd, I thought at the strange notion, mentally I imagined what that must have looked like. The familiarity nagged at me, where had I seen that before...?
I glanced passively at the clock, only about an hour had passed by. With the knowledge that I didn't have work to attend to, and could recall no social plans, I felt relieved. The time would be better spent getting used to this new body, the way it feels, the way it reacts, and most importantly, how to 'convert' everyday things back into routine. This sort of upheaval on the magnitude of moving to a whole new country with a language and culture that's never been heard of before. My chest impacted at the notion.
I sighed.
It was going to be a long weekend...
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
Practice makes perfect.
But no one takes into account how much practice makes perfect.
My thoughts exactly as I recounted how many times I face planted while trying to trot around the limited space of the apartment. The most taken-for-granted action had taken hours to even mildly get used to. Walking on four limbs, fighting the urge to rear up on the new 'hind' legs instead, while my still human brain protested the unnatural motions. I managed to help the space issue by leaning the coffee table against the window wall next to the front door. Pushing things was as simple as bracing against them and, well, pushing forward – which was good news for when I would eventually have to go back to work.
Back to work...
That was one of many encounters I was dreading. I only had minor doubts about the ability to do my job; which entailed moving boxes of shipped product all day, sometimes involved in driving a forklift, and in general breaking down the daily loads. That would simply require a change of tact. But the biggest, and some say most important, aspect of the job would be customer service. Interacting with the public.
As in people. As in, possibly, not pony people.
Was it just me or was it everyone? I listened to the front door and took a quick peek outside the window. Unfortunately I didn't see another living soul that wasn't behind the wheel of a car, and therefore couldn't make out whether or not they were human or equine. But it must not have been the entire population of the planet; I assumed that if that was the case there would be panic in the streets, fires, disasters, etcetera. A similar reaction to science fiction movies when aliens showed up... right before they started blasting. I cursed my imagination, surely that wouldn't be the case right, since this is the real world and not some movie or book... right?
The window may not have given me a sufficient answer, but maybe the news would. I searched around for the TV remote, and after several curse lined minutes, finally found it on the floor halfway underneath the couch.
Now how to pick it up without fingers...
I could try to pick it up by using my fore hooves as a pair of pincers, but my previous experiences with crane machines said that would be a bad idea, and only lead to shouting more expletives. That left my mouth. No, literally, I would have to grasp the controller in my mouth. Yuck.
I sighed, then bent over to chew the hard plastic. Surprisingly, and gratefully, there was no god-awful taste waiting for my tongue – not that I was trying to taste it, nor curious as to what plastic tasted like. Quickly though, I sat the device on the bed, nudging it with my nose to point towards the inactive television.
Grimacing, I realized now I need to figure out how to push the damned button. A scene from Spongebob flashed in my mind, where Squidward was having a “grip” problem because he couldn't win at a crane game. He used his eyeball to press the changer's button. I winced at thinking about his reaction of pain. Not gonna happen. Besides that was still physically impossible – right?
I leaned over the plethora of buttons, trying to position my pointed nose over the red power on/off circle. I felt genuinely stupid for having to do this. There was really no reason why I felt that way, I just did. After a couple tries the TV finally flickered to life. I sat down on the carpet, ready to receive.
Luckily for me, the channel was already on CNN, and if this was bigger than I suspected, the story would at least be subtitled scrolling across the screen. The familiar visage of the anchor man appeared on the fancy wooden desk, the fake picture of the city plastered behind him as he gave the morning news. It took me a moment to notice his co-anchor was missing. I listened as he gave an update on an old story.
“In other news the extra terrestrial phenomenon is still inactive and passive after first appearing just outside lunar orbit almost one year ago next week.” the anchor continued. “Military and intelligence agencies the world over are still actively monitoring the phenomenon for any and all changes, insisting that there is no danger as of yet.”
I recalled when the strange energy occurrence had first arrived. It looked, to me at least, like a lightning bolt shaped tear in space. I glanced out the window. There it was, floating ominously over the mountains in the same place as always. Like a child had taken a giant lightning-colored crayon and drew a crude picture. When it first showed up, naturally, there was panic in the streets. After several days, everything calmed down when it became apparent that there was no invasion, no doomsday armageddon, no supernatural occurrences, etcetera. Still, that didn't stop every major earth military force from fully mobilizing and nearly starting world war three. After the first few months, the military backed down partially, in favor of passive monitoring with reaction forces on standby.
“... many woke up this morning feeling strange.” My ears shot up, bending their way towards the source. “Reports of thousands of people being “changed” when they woke up this fine morning to find that they were no longer themselves.” The screen flashed to some pictures in a hospital. The scene in the hospital was chaos as nurses and doctors wheeled patients about. They were a mix of normal humans while the other portions were more of the equine ponies. I made a mental guess that many of the newly transformed tried to drive to work without knowing, or they did know, and tried to seek help. Only to figure out the hard way that driving would be very difficult.
“Thousands of car accidents occurred within just an hour,” the anchor confirmed my suspicion. “as many of these new creatures attempted to drive cars and trucks. Believing the vehicles to be stolen, the police departments of various cities have begun making arrests of those not critically injured.”
That I did not expect. They're arresting them? Unless the anchor was exaggerating the numbers, surely there was enough evidence to say that those ponies are the people transformed? I found myself referring to one of my favorite cynical phrases: people are stupid.
I felt a minor sense of relief. At least it wasn't only me this had happened to. Although I regretted that many seemed to have been hurt or maybe killed. I still maintain that this was overkill: arresting the new “species” seemed very... fascist, somehow.
The anchorman paused in his news report, glancing at an unseen commotion off screen. It sounded like someone was trying to block someone else from coming on the set, a deep voice protesting. Another voice, this one a bit more familiar, insisted that (it sounded feminine) she be allowed to pass as it was her job... or something like that. After a few seconds, a new figure stepped into the screen – a pony mare.
Other than the dark shaded pink coat, everything else about her seemed very familiar. From the long blond hair (mane... arrugh!), and her deep blue eyes. It was the anchorman's female counterpart of the daily news, apparently another victim of this transformation phenomenon. I blinked a few times as I noticed she was indeed wearing clothing, a small business suit that looked like it was made for a child, and yet appropriate for this kind of job. My thought stirred and I frowned. How did she get such a suit in such a short amount of time?
The mare glared off screen at the security guard, or at least I assumed security personnel, while shuffling through some papers. After a moment her warm smile returned and began giving a few minor news announcements. Just like nothing had happened. Part of me admired the fact that she so boldly showed up for work and acted so very professional despite what clearly had happened. Although the other part couldn't blame the rude way the anchorman was staring at her, or the security guard; after all, no one knew what was going on yet... right? She finished her announcements and turned to look at her cohort, whom was still staring at her. After a few tense seconds, she coughed loudly and snapped him out of his reverie. I couldn't help but chuckle.
A sudden musical beat filled the air, making my heart thump out of my chest.
My eyes darted around, trying to pick up the source, and long ears turned this way and that. I was confused enough that I couldn't pick up where the random beat had come from and decided to forget about it. After a few moments of quiet, it announced again. This time I focused.
Indeed recognizing the familiar tone, I trotted into the kitchen and dug out the small cellular device from underneath a kitchen rag. The small, smart, touch screen phone had been plugged into the only outlet in my pathetic excuse for a kitchen. I grabbed the phone in my mouth, putting my left hoof on the cord to prevent it from being pulled from the socket, and pulled. The phone came free without mishap.
Setting the phone on the small cramped counter, I stared at it.
How the hell was I supposed to use this thing now?
For several minutes longer, I formulated and discarded what must have been a dozen plans. After a while, and muttering several expletives of frustration, I just went with the simplest. Turning the device long ways, I grasped it with my hooves and “held” it steady; then used my nose to slide the screen up, revealing the keyboard, garnering a sneeze for my efforts. This activated the screen and showed I had two new text messages. Again using my nose (a bit more gently this time, to avoid sneezes) to select them. They were both from one of my closest friends.
Marcus: Hey bud, what's going on?
I blinked. Was that a literal statement or just saying hello? Having no idea, I continued to the next message.
Marcus: Want to see a movie or something? I sent a text to Ash, but she hasn't texted me back yet.
I typed out a response, very slowly, since I had to use my damned nose.
Me: Um, I dunno bro. I struggled for some kind of excuse, then opted out as lack of funds. I'm kind of broke right now.
A minute goes by, and the obnoxious music repeats again.
Marcus: It's no prob. I'll spot ya. See if u can get a hold of Ash.
Damn it. For once I cursed his generous nature. Truth was I was nowhere near broke, in fact I had a decent savings built up. I was no penny pincher, I just didn't have many things I wanted to buy. Only the occasional game, like the release coming up soon, would garner the attention of the numbered plastic debit card in my wallet. I'll have to try another excuse to weasel my way out of this, but first I needed to text Ashley.
My heart fluttered a little bit at the thought of Ashley. Her, Marcus and I had been school mates since the fourth grade. We hung out, watched out for each other and played regularly as time allowed. Over time I... well... developed a crush on her. Unfortunately she didn't have the same interest in me. In fact she... well... had different interests as far as those kind of relationships went. Was it possible for your heart to burst multiple times in one lifetime? If so, then her telling me she was, my mind flared at the word, lesbian was one such event when I tried one time to express my crush in the hopes it would become more than just friendship. She saw I was so forlorn, and added that she still wanted to be friends with me. Right.
I felt my ears plaster against my head as a frown tugged my jaw muscles. Funny how they always want to be friends even after they rip your heart out...
I banished the thought from my head. No, that wasn't (completely) fair. I knew she didn't mean to hurt me, even though it did; greatly so. Though damaged, our friendship did continue to thrive. We still went out to movies, concerts, game launches (yes, she was a gamer too), etcetera. It would have been a great match, which made it none the easier. Eventually I got over it... mostly. What could have been and all that crap.
After a few moments I managed to get the new text message screen up.
Me: Hey Ash, how r u? Marcus wants to no if u want to c a movie.
I waited a few minutes. When no reply came, I briefly considered writing another message to her, but instead opted to send one back to Marcus.
Me: No answer yet. Maybe her phone broke? Probably nothing srs...
I tried to diffuse the worry that was likely concerning Marcus. He was a year older than Ash and I, and sometimes acted like an older brother of sorts, worrying about this and that. He was by no means a “worry wart”, he just cared.
Marcus: Hm. Maybe we should go over, c if everything is all right. Case in point.
Panic washed over me. He can't come over and see me like this! He can't! But if I knew him as well as I thought I did (and I did) then he would come over regardless. Come on, think. Think!
Me: I'm sure everything is fine. No need to bother her. The message was a lie in almost every aspect.
I caught myself chewing my hoof, eyes glued to the little bright screen, waiting for his response as the seconds ticked by painfully slow. Dread hanging heavy, palpable, in the air.
Marcus: Eh, maybe ur right. Phew.
Another message popped up.
Ashley: Um, I can't go see a movie. Sick, real sick. Cannot go.
Another relief. Ashley, aside from announcing she had some cold or flu or something, was at least well enough to text. I relayed the news to Marcus, and he replied that he had gotten the same text.
Marcus: Well, we should definitely go see her Sam. God damn the sun to hell in a hand basket!
Arrugh! Damn it. He was likely going to come over now. How the hell was I going to explain this? I looked over my equine body, reminded by the newscaster mare that I was essentially naked ever since I removed the white tee shirt to alleviate the itchiness of my... wings. My eye twitched, this was still very weird.
Marcus: I'll be over in about an hour. Gonna stop by wal-greens and get medicine for ash. What is she sick with? Ffffffffff!
Double damn! I was screwed now. I repeated that phrase and the popular question of “what was I going to do!?” over and over in my head, pacing the room continuously. Ignoring the phone completely, I tried to formulate some kind of plan, something to keep Marcus from coming. I was reminded of Ashley's mysterious illness. Maybe I can use that too? Worth a shot.
Me: I dunno, it might be highly contagious. Best leave her be.
Heart thumping, I waited for his response. Annoyed at finding my damned hoof creeping up to my mouth again.
Marcus: Eh, we'll be careful. Besides, sick means vacation, lol.
Damn him! He was using my favorite excuse against me. I always joked and made cracks that I wanted to get sick just to get out of work, or school back when that applied. I head butted the phone, sending it sliding across the counter and onto the nearby bed. One hour. I had sixty minutes (approximately) until this came crashing down.
I looked around the small studio, looking for anything I could possibly do to avert the inevitable. There was truly no place to hide in a studio apartment, everything was compact and small. Even though the bathroom and closet were separate rooms, they were still far too small to adequately hide in. Simply not answering the door wasn't an option. Most of us lived on our own, and we all had extra keys made in case any of us got locked out somehow or lost our own set. Which meant that Marcus could just let himself in; if I did hide, and he managed not to find me somehow, he might call the cops thinking something bad had happened. And I did not need that kind of attention.
Well, truth be told I didn't need any attention... at all. But that wasn't an option anymore. The more I thought about it, the more I realized this was inevitable. Whether it was revealing it to my friends, family, or co-workers, this had to happen. Eventually, irrevocably, inevitably happen. Closing my eyes and wishing it all away wasn't going to do shit. That and I knew now I wasn't the only person exposed to whatever this was. The news broadcast had proven that in more ways than one.
I took a deep breath, and concentrated. I knew what I needed to do, the only question now was what approach to take. With that thought in mind, I began straightening up the apartment like I always did before expecting company.
Author's Note:
Would like to apologize to those waiting for the next chapter for my other story. Massive writer's block, but I do have stuff for it written... partially. Anyways, I started this to help with the block, and someone else convinced me I should try and post it. So, in the mean time.
“Ahhh,” I sighed slowly, the steaming hot water pouring over me.
What was it about hot showers that felt so rejuvenating? And for some odd reason, I was enjoying it far more as a pony creature. My muscles had been greatly tensed from the stressing events beforehand (Hoof? Arrugh!), and greatly needed some relief. I even felt my wings loosen and managed to stretch them just a bit, albeit quite limited, within the confines of the shower. It fitted this smaller body a lot better than my significantly larger human body. Frowning as I remembered numerous baths that could have been so much more relaxing if the damn tub was just a bit bigger. Indeed I was pleased knowing it was very true, although shrinking wasn't the way I thought the idea would be proven.
After a few minutes longer, I finally decided that I needed to exit the shower. Moving a bit closer to the single faucet that controlled the water, I sat down in front of it, then used my stubby forearms to turn the nob clockwise. A few turns later, the flow dwindled from a firm, continuous stream to barely a dribble, and that didn't last long either. I felt my sobbing wet tail sticking messily to my backside, and could partially see my hair, or mane rather (horse terminology wasn't completely unknown to me), clinging around my lower face. I felt heavy, even; makes sense since a fur coat would hold onto water, as opposed to 'waterproof' skin, where the water mostly glides off. Briefly I recalled a friend's birthday pool party where I refused to swim because I didn't have a bathing suit present. Although that didn't stop Marcus and Ashley from encouraging everyone to toss me in anyways. The weight of my clothing felt like it had tripled, like I was wearing a suit made of lead instead.
Soaking wet, a smile crept across my face – at the thought of something I had, for some reason, always wanted to do. Tensing, I shook my body back and forth like a dog after crawling out of a pool. Shaking only helped to minimally dry me, and it knocked my hair completely in my face, making sight difficult as everything turned brown. But it wasn't any less fun! Thankfully, the curtain remained closed and the water stayed in the shower.
Without hands, I didn't even bother trying to draw the shower curtain open, so I simply meandered through the far opening, being extra careful about my steps, not quite sure about four legs yet. On the bathroom floor below me, two large blue towels had been spread out across the floor, with two more neatly folded on the small counter. Normally I'd only need the one drying cloth, but now it would require much more.
I had partially planned out how I would dry myself before even stepping into the shower. Every mundane move that had been done a certain way now had to be thrown out the window, and repeatedly returned to the proverbial drawing board; eliciting a concentrated frown from me.
Sitting down on one of the towels, I grasped one of the folded up towels in my mouth and tossed it in the air, watching it, and adjusting the position of my target head. Streaks of brown vision turned almost black as the cloth landed over my face – perfect. Stretching my forearms out from under the towel, I began trying to rub all around my face and neck. Attempting to squeeze the majority of the water from my coat in those areas. It took much longer than expected as I rubbed, and re-rubbed, and rubbed again; the damned fur just didn't want to let go of the water! The towel feeling heavy was the only indication I had that it was taking at least some of the water, still being surrounded by pitch blackness.
After I was reasonably sure my top half was dry I shrugged off the towel, and began work on my lower half. That proved a little bit more difficult, since normally, I would use my fingers to better curve the towel around me. Blunt hooves made that exceptionally impossible. Grasping another drying cloth from the counter (I swear I could taste lint now), I twisted around and delicately separated my tail, which still clung to my hind legs (jeese this was weird!), it took far longer than I thought, and I felt myself getting a headache at trying to accomplish the impossible task. After several attempts at trying to do the same for my mane, as well as a few choice curses, I gave up; instead electing to try and brush it. Grumbling, I cursed the loss of my fingers (again), trying and failing several times to pincer-move the brush. Stupidly, I thought about using my mouth, only to realize that I can't brush my hair with my mouth because both were attached to my head. I snorted at myself, mentally berated.
Eventually I hit the 'sweet spot' and got a decent hold of the thin, plastic handle. Standing on two legs, so I could garner the necessary height to gaze into the mirror, I braced my now mostly dry chest on the cold countertop's edge. A death grip on the brush, desperate not to drop it, I started stroking; slow and deliberate. Wincing as new knots were yanked out with each stroke. Before I had shorter hair and didn't even have knots to worry about. Come to think of it, my hair was short enough that brushing wasn't even required. It wasn't a military cut, I just preferred it short. With that thought in mind, another interesting one occurred to me: when was the last time I used this thing?
The thought caused me to drop the brush, and I cursed aloud. Looking at me in the mirror, I decided that was enough of that. I wasn't going to spend another minute trying to get a grip on that thing again.
Frustrated, I stepped down from the counter, and pondered; what about the wings? Should I just let them air dry, or attempt to do it myself? I recalled how sensitive they were when I first touched them. Truthfully though, that may have just been numbness from sleeping on them. Maybe they were fine now?
Only one way to find out, I thought, slinging one hoof over to the opposite side. Gently I prodded the same area I had before. I smiled, there was indeed more sensation than expected, but nothing like the angry insect bite I had associated it with earlier. Now I closed my eyes to concentrate a bit more.
I focused on my back, all thought bent on feeling the appendages. In the shower I had managed a small spanning, but now I wanted them to extend full and proud. That itching sensation returned as I triggered new and unfamiliar muscle groups with nerve endings. Suddenly, I felt what felt like hard wood, and on the other side a plastic cloth that gave way at my touch. Two objects came to mind, the bathroom door and the shower curtain – both of which were on the opposite ends of the small room for hygiene.
I opened my eyes, already knowing. From end to end the feathery limbs touched tip to tip from exactly where I imagined. They were glorious! I quickly thought about the size of my bathroom, calculating. Six and a half, maybe seven feet wingspan.
Six and a half, maybe seven feet wingspan. Hot damn!
If my knowledge of wingspan for real planes and jets applied, then that was as optimum as it could get. I sucked in a breath, feeling the relief from holding it unknowingly.
“Yes!” I shouted in glee, jumping up in the air.
Smiling from ear to ear, I folded the wings down from their glory, examining them closer and testing their articulation. They were surprisingly flexible, their range of motion only increased my excitement. The muscles felt a bit stiff, flight would likely take time and much. Much practice; but now I knew. I couldn't help but squee. The concern for making unmanly sounds forgotten.
My ear twitched and turned towards the wall. The sound of a door closing catching my attention. I wasn't concerned, however. I already knew Marcus was in the apartment, probably raiding my pantry like usual. Hey, after all, I did have to unlatch the security chains for him to get in. I frowned, recalling how difficult that had been.
Marcus had arrived on time like he'd always done. Knocking politely as though nothing was different. I had just sat down after finishing the last of the cleaning, and had great difficulty unlatching the damned door. My friend grew concerned at how long the simple task was taking, and began asking if everything was okay. At the time I did not answer, knowing the disconnected, very different voice would garner unwanted conclusions. Eventually the door was opened, and I scrambled to the far side of the room as he walked in. To say the moment was awkward would be a huge understatement.
He walked in and froze. I couldn't see his eyes through the 100% tinted sunglasses that he wore, a piece of fashion formed partially emulating his favorite movie character: Morpheus from the Matrix series. But I think it was safe to say they were as big as dinner plates. I know mine were, as I awaited his first response.
He said my name questioningly, and I nodded.
He asked what had happened, and I shrugged, frowning.
Silence. For the longest time, silence.
He took off his sunglasses, clear concern on his face. I winced, a little too noticeably, briefly forgetting that the new face expressed profusely.
He smiled warmly and simply dismissed the issue, changing the subject to Ashley and asked if I was ready to go.
I hesitated to speak, but eventually did. Inquiring that I had not showered yet. He paused at how my voice had changed, caught off guard – which rarely happened. He sat on the chair, casually.
After a few more moments, he cocked an eyebrow and looked at the shower, smiling. I blinked, and then hurried off to clean up.
I checked myself in the mirror, satisfied that I looked presentable despite it being the first time drying off in such a manner. Expecting my mane to look like a severe case of bed-head, I was very surprised that it looked almost exactly as it had before I stepped into the shower. The same could be said for my tail as well after shrugging off the towel wrapped around it.
I opened the door and walked out slowly, trying to keep my expression neutral.
A milk chocolate skinned man with short cropped black hair sat in the arm chair. He wore ordinary blue jeans, a red colored, collared shirt with a white undershirt beneath that. In his hands was a plastic zip-lock container full of steaming rice, leftovers from a meal a few nights ago.
“Hope ya don't mind,” he said with a mouthful of the chicken fried rice, amazingly he didn't spout any of it. “skipped breakfast.”
“Nah,” I smiled back. This was routine for him, and I truly didn't mind. This time he didn't pause or react to the sound of my new voice.
“Great!” he answered back, digging back into his (my) food with gusto. “I swear, no one cooks better than you Sam.”
I appreciated the compliment, but it was nothing special. Just white rice and roast chicken with a few vegetables like carrots and such. I could smell the food, and for some odd reason I was not enticed by the savory scent. In fact, I almost seemed repulsed by it. Odd, very odd. Chalk another up on the board of 'weird shit' today. That list was getting rather long.
Marcus pounded his chest a couple times, apparently eating a little too fast. He set the bowl aside for a moment and turned his gaze to me. “So,” he said. “you just woke up like this?”
“E'yup.” I answered simply, my expression going back to neutral. I still wasn't sure how he was taking this, but it seemed pretty well considering this was freakishly new.
He glanced at the TV, which was still tuned to the CNN news, watching the human and pony newscasters telling other stories or reiterating older news. He pointed his thumb at the screen and said, “Seems you're not the only one...”
Despite the circumstances, I could not help but roll my eyes as Marcus stated the obvious. “It seems so.” I kept my higher pitched voice even.
Finishing the last few bites of the rice, he set the bowl down for the final time. “A pegasus pony huh?” he rhetorically asked, “That's pretty wild. How does it feel?”
I considered his question, many words came to mind, “Short,” was one of the foremost, so that's what I said.
He snickered at my answer. Before now I was always a good head taller than Marcus, and occasionally I gave him shit for it, now he was two heads taller than me. Oh karma, how ye taunt me so.
“Must be hard adjusting.” He cautiously asked when the snickering died.
“It's been,” I paused, thinking. It hadn't been that difficult; at least not yet. Call me an optimist, but the first day seems to have gone very well. I was more worried about the future. Especially when it came to being around others that weren't friends or family. “Well... it's too early to tell.” I answered lamely.
Marcus simply nodded, understanding.
I pondered a question of my own, “It seems like just my body has changed. My mind, thoughts and memories, are still the same. I'm still me.” I explained, building up to the question itself. “Only thing I can't figure out is why my voice is so... different. Shouldn't it be the same as before?”
Briefly I caught my friend's eyes widen for just a moment, before he quashed the sudden expression. I cocked an eyebrow at him, and asked tentatively. “What?” He didn't answer, he seemed to be avoiding my gaze, and that did not sit well under the circumstances.
I narrowed my gaze a bit, asking a bit more forcefully, “What...”
“Er, uh...” Marcus stared and stammered, but still kept his thoughts to himself. Now was not the time to keep secrets. If he knew something about this, I needed to know.
“What!” I raised my voice a bit more, standing up from my seated position. My eyes narrowed further.
“It's nothing.” He held his palms up defensively, clearly lying through his teeth.
I growled (Really? Growled?) at him. “Tell me, tell me, tell me!” I shouted, emphasizing each word as the phrase repeated. As the last words left my lips I waved my forehooves in the air, stomping them back down. I meant business.
“Okay, okay!” Marcus took a deep breath, looking at me partly sullen. “You're not going to like it.” He warned, trying one last time to avoid the matter. It failed as I glared more intensely at him.
“This is going to sound incredibly random, and very weird,” he started explaining, I felt a stone form in my gut. I wasn't going to like this was I? “but I need you to spread your... hind?... legs.”
What. What? WHAT!?
My menacing glare turned to utter shock. My jaw dropped to the floor, and I felt a burning blush forming on my face. Was he serious? Spread. My. Legs?
Honestly though, I was technically naked in front of him, I slowly realized. But I had, unconsciously, kept my forearms tightly together, blocking any view to my lower regions when I wasn't standing upright. A familiar tickling sensation appeared, my tail reflexively weaving it's way over the... area, as if protecting it.
“You want me to what?” I said, aghast.
He nodded, and then evenly added, “It's the only way to confirm my suspicions.”
My eye twitched. What suspicions? What the hell was he...oh. Oh.
I felt a great chill rush up my spine, coming to terms with my guess as to what Marcus's 'suspicions' might be. I was not going to spread for him, but this was something I could likely determine myself as well. I swiveled away, turning my back to him, and spread as wide as I could. Bending my head down low, staring down into the inner thighs.
I froze, then bolted upright.
I swiveled halfway back to him, feeling more subconscious than ever, the blush returning with a vengeance. I could feel my eyes shrink as I stared at Marcus. He managed a very weak smile, with a pitying look in his eyes. No, it wasn't pity, just a sort of knowing.
“I'm,” my voice croaked, my mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. “I'm... a...” the word I scavenged my head for refused to reveal itself. I couldn't use the other word, it wouldn't apply under these circumstances. Instead I repeated like a broken, and breaking down, record. “I'm... a...” suddenly my throat felt very sore, my nose stuffing up.
“A mare.” Marcus answered. A what? “a female pony.” He clarified.
A female pony.
The words rung loudly in my head. My eyes felt like they were going to bug out of my cartoon-ish head if they got much wider. How was this possible? How?The world began to fade, the ceiling spun and a familiar blackness overtook me. The last sound I heard was a male voice shouting my name.
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
I breathed rapidly into the brown paper bag that Marcus was holding in front of my face. He told me that I'd passed out, bonking my head on the coffee table. What was with my head getting so friendly with that damned table today. Breaking the revelation to me a separate time, I began hyperventilating rapidly. Hence the paper bag. This went on for some time until I finally insisted I was okay, waving a hoof to dismiss the brown bag.
“A mare,” I repeated once more. Frazzled, but calm more or less. My stare felt like it stretched on for eternity, like my blank gaze could see through time itself.
“A mare,” Marcus confirmed. “Honestly, it's not that bad.” He said, trying to downplay the issue.
I shot him a venomous glare, feeling my eyes mist over slightly. It must have been quite intense, as the half African American recoiled from it. How could he possibly have any idea what was going through my mind right now? He didn't! Therefore he couldn't possibly make such a statement! It infuriated me to the core. It was like chopping off someone's arm and saying get over it, it's only a flesh wound.'!
“I'm sorry,” he said after a moment under the gaze. “I didn't mean...” drifting off, not sure what to say.
It may have explained a few things. I hadn't noticed until now, but I did seem more... I don't know, emotional? I cringed at the stereotype, things I did not like to perpetuate. Come to think of it, why hadn't I caught on to that before? The voice was the biggest, and until I took a peek at myself, and only clue of the other change. Marcus had apparently picked up on it from the first word out of my mouth, so why didn't I? Apparently transforming into a pegasus pony... mare... didn't make me any smarter. A small smile crept on my lips thinking about the intelligence stereotype, and that I may have broken it.
“So,” Marcus was still standing... no, towering... over me. That was going to take some getting used to, as I craned my head to look up at him. “do I need to hang on to this?”
I wanted to say 'of course not', but something told me I may need it again... maybe several times if the day held more surprises like that in store. “Probably.” I replied simply.
“Okay,” he folded the baggy and stuffed it into his back pocket. “should we get going then? You had your shower...”
I thought for a moment. Was I ready to step into the world like this yet? Marcus had been understanding in more ways than one, but what about the other tenants? What about the employees that ran the office? My chest heaved faster as I contemplated the questions buzzing my brain. I tried to slow down my breathing when I heard the rumpling of brown paper bag, waving a hoof to signal I was okay. Not convinced, Marcus kept the bag ready.
“Uh,” I started, heart still pounding but slowing down steadily. “I don't think I'm ready for the public public.” I frowned and looked up at him (okay, gonna get neck cramps soon).
Marcus moved away from me and sat back down, hard, on the lounge chair. He sat there staring at me for several moments while I tried to guess what went through his mind. After a moment, I sat back on my rump. After several more minutes, I lowered my front with some confused difficulty, and sat like a dog usually does; my hind legs contracted beneath me, and my forelegs partially outstretched. He made some comment about me being so good at that already, and I stared blankly at him. Not caring that it was, maybe, a snide remark.
Suddenly, a smile creased its way across his lips. He glanced at me, then at the bed, and then at something a short distance behind me. Grinning brightly, he put the dark sunglasses back over his brown eyes.
I knew that look. He was having some kind of 'ingenious' idea. I frowned nervously, knowing this probably wasn't going to be good for me.
“I know the perfect way to get you through unseen,” he said through his shit-eating grin. That grin disappeared fairly quick. “too bad you showered already though...”
My eyes opened wide, simultaneously my ears shot up too. Huh?
I stared silently into his face as he moved near me, heart racing. Okay, I'm really not going to like this am I?
I groaned as I was jostled around unceremoniously, cramped between dozens and dozens of different sized clothes and articles of dirty laundry. Barely any light squeezed through the perforated laundry sack Marcus had stuffed me in. It was a brilliant idea, really it was, I just wished it didn't involve wallowing in the accumulated stink of a week's worth of dirty dirtiness!
I fought back my gag reflex. I need to use stronger detergent, I thought, trying to block the wretched stink from my nose. Hooves made that attempt all but futile.
Oof!
I growled a little, annoying stinkiness forgotten.
When I get out of here I am going to punch you so hard! Threatening silently. I knew he was having his jollies with me in the sack. Hitting every bump, jumping off every stair step, the occasional 'accidental' bump into a wall! I even suspected he was taking the long way through the apartment complex.
“When I get out of here you're gonna get it Marcus!” I fumed, reiterating my threat aloud, just above a whisper. All I received for it was what felt like an elbow that jabbed into my flank. I winced, not enjoying the irony of a pony getting a charlie horse.
Okay, now I'm mad. I was just about to kick in the direction I suspected his back was, but then stopped as figures passed by through the little holes. That, and I heard a soft shushing noise once they were some distance away, if the footsteps were any indication. Despite being cramped in the tiny bag, I crossed by forehooves, feeling the unfairness of not getting revenge right there and then. Damn it.
Despite all this, the plan was working. Through what little gaps in the bag that weren't too obscured to see through, I made out the silhouettes of other people passing by as we made our way through the apartment complex. Not giving a second thought to the dark skinned man carrying what they assumed was his laundry. Eventually I heard the faint honk of a car alarm as Marcus unlocked the door to his SUV. Light disappeared and for a moment, I thought the bag was being stuffed into a trash compactor, the soft smelly walls closing in on me. Breathing became a little bit more difficult, the edge of a claustrophobic panic coming on.
The top of the bag opened up and I poked my head through, breathing deep, desperate for the light!
I noticed Marcus was preoccupied, checking the surroundings for passersby. When he turned his head back in my direction, and came within range, I clopped him on the forehead with a hoof. Not hard enough to cause injury, but hard enough to show this pony was not amused. He reeled back, more in surprise than in pain.
He looked at me in confusion while I stared back in irritation and annoyance. Before saying a word, he looked around once more. The coast must have been clear as he said what I was expecting, “What was that for?”
“For the wall corner, stumbling down the steps, and elbowing me in my ass!” I half-shouted at him, checking off my mental list of his shenanigans. “And I owe you more...” I chuckled, a sardonic smile on my face. “Much more.”
He smirked devilishly, “You mad bro?” I could just imagine the popular pixelated troll-face.
I blew him off, trying to squirm my way out of the crushing laundry bag stuffed down at the foot of the passenger seat, feeling like I was struggling against the maw of a predator plant or something. Failing to dislodge myself, I stared back up at him in defeat. “A little help?” I was not going to ride to Ashley's in a damned laundry bag as cargo! I huffed, “Please?”
I blushed as he reached under my arms and lifted me from the bag, feeling very much like a stuffed animal. Half reflexively, I crossed my hind legs in front of my naked self. He noticed this and rolled his eyes. When I was finally set down on the leather seat, it took a moment to find a comfortable sitting position. Marcus waited patiently and buckled me in. Scrunching my mouth in annoyance and in embarrassment, feeling like I was an errant child being buckled in for the family car trip.
Seconds went by, and Marcus reappeared in the driver's seat. He buckled himself in, but the car didn't start right away. I turned in his direction and met his gaze looking at me above the rim of the dark sunglasses, one eyebrow cocked. In my peripheral vision, two more tenants passed by, but that didn't matter since the vehicle windows were just as tinted as the glasses.
“What?” I asked, a hint of apprehension.
“Are you okay?” Marcus asked genuinely, that big brotherly like voice returning.
I had to think about that for a long minute. In less than a day, I had turned into an equine, discovered I had wings, and even more, I wasn't even the same gender any more. Uh oh, fast breathing again. The bag appeared in front of my face, and I scrunched it to my muzzle, deafened by the rapid crunch of the baggy as it grew and shrank, grew and shrank. A moment later, and the spell was gone, returning to normal. I handed the bag back to him, but did not give an answer; putting on my best ask me that later face.
He paused for a moment longer, concern apparent in his face. Before I could say anything more, the engine roared to life and we pulled out of the parking lot, on our way to Ashley's place.
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
The first five minutes of the car trip went by in silence with neither of us having much to say. Eventually Marcus broke the ice, in such a way I wasn't completely comfortable with, by quizzing me on what was different being a pony. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I started naming off the obvious stuff first. Height difference, walking on four legs, having a tail, etcetera. He seemed interested when I started to explain how I was picking things up with hooves or my mouth. Both of us got excited when the subject of my wings came up.
“I wonder just how fast you'll be able to go,” Marcus said enthusiastically.
“Yeah!” I replied with a huge grin, watching cars go by us as we drove down the six lane city street. Well, barely. My head only just crested the top of the dash, and therefore the street was cut off from the tops of the cars. Arrugh! Hate being short...
He noticed my downtrodden expression as I tried to peek more over the dash. “Oh, quit being such a miss grumpy pants.” I cringed, at both the reference to my lack of clothing and at being referred to as a 'miss'.
“Watch it mister,” I said, menacingly through a smile. “or you're gonna get bucked so hard.”
At first Marcus took the threat for genuine, after all I did bonk him hard on the head, until he saw my smile. Rolling his eyes, he returned his attention to the road. The way I figured it, this wasn't going to get better real soon, so instead of being a 'miss grumpy pants' as Marcus put it, I'd just try and have some fun with it. After all it could have been worse right?... Right?
And now it got worse.
I thumped up and down in my seat, trying to get a better look over the car's dash at the blue and red strobing lights. We were in a neighborhood with large housing, a detour that was often taken to avoid some rush-hour traffic. The road was partially blocked off by two police cruisers and an ambulance, their warning lights flashing but absent the loud sirens. A trio of men in police uniforms stood guard over the area, looking at the SUV as we approached; Marcus stopped and paused, interested in what was going on. To be honest I was too.
At the moment the guards didn't mind that we were loitering some distance away... at least not yet. The fourth officer, seemingly a higher rank, was consoling a woman sobbing her eyes out. Marcus and I shared a look of concern, briefly considering whether or not we should go out and see if there was anything we could do. And I say 'briefly' when my fluttering wings reminded me I was something else now. I sighed and watched on, Marcus looking at me with... what, pity? I hoped not. Too much pity was a bad thing... and was starting to annoy me.
One man in a paramedic uniform exited the door to a nearby house – presumably belonging to the sobbing woman – dragging a wheeled stretcher with a second man in similar uniform following. The body in the cart was strapped down and had many splotches of red all over it. I squinted, trying to get more details, and my eyes went wide as I found what I was only partially expecting.
The body belonged to a pony.
I could only assume he was a normal pony, as I didn't see any indication of wings or anything else out of the ordinary. I nearly slammed my hoof into my face at the thought of 'normal'. It was easy to tell he was a male, because nearly all of his coat was shaved off, and certain... parts... were clearly visible when he occasionally shook in the stretcher's straps. A crazed look in his big eyes said it all: something, likely the sudden transformation, seemed to have driven him mad; or at least that was my guess. The cuts, while they didn't look life-threatening, were bleeding significantly.
That and I recognized them. Whenever I forgot, or neglected, to shave for a few days and the stubble built up, I usually cut myself a few times on accident with the razor, and was rewarded with that and razor bumps. The small angry red bumps accompanying the crimson slices.
A chill ran up my spine as I formulated what had happened. The used-to-be man woke up late in the day to discover he was a pony creature, and for some reason, being covered in a coat triggered him to frantically shave it off. I assumed the crying, hysterical woman was either a relative or maybe his spouse? There was no way to tell, at least for me anyways.
“Whoa,” Marcus peered over his shades at the sight, clearly taken aback. “Guess not everyone is handling this thing well.” He glanced at me, and I stared back, unaware that my jaw was agape.
“And here I was concerned about being gender-swapped,” I said slowly, realizing that my own problems paled in comparison. At least I wasn't driven crazy. Right? Yet? Scary thought. Thinking something else now!
At that moment one of the officers decided enough was enough. He held out his palm in a commanding 'stop' motion as he headed towards us, one of his companions in blue deciding to follow.
“Uh oh,” Marcus tensed, looking at incredible unease.
“What are you...” I trailed off, my eyes widening in alarm as the last puzzle piece fell into place. “Marcus. Don't. That's the last thing we need. I need.” I pleaded, trying to calm him down. “We haven't done anything wrong.”
For a moment I thought he would ignore me and barrel through the officers and trigger an epic car chase. Seeing the emotions play across his eyes was somewhat... unsettling. Finally, he looked at me, and took his hands off the wheel. I released a breath I didn't know I was holding, greatly relieved.
The officer twirled his hand in a vertical circle, motioning to roll down the windows, his other hand resting on the nine millimeter at his waist. That seemed odd to me, but then I remembered his SUV had fully tinted windows, so their suspicious caution was understandable. Still unnerved me though, the thought of getting shot at, or even shot, was very unpleasant. Were hospital doctors at all familiar with equine anatomy, or would I have to go to a veterinarian? Another complication for another day.
As the officer approached us, the windows rolled down with a faint mechanical purr. He looked like he was about to deliver the classic 'license and registration please' as he poked his head down to the window... and then he saw me. Clearly he was very suspicious and wary of the orange winged pony-thing as his eyes narrowed in my direction. Looking at the other officer, his reaction was very different, gazing at me in shock. If the situation wasn't so tense, I'd make a snide remark like 'what, you never seen a pony before?', or maybe just an irritated 'what?!'. Instead I smiled nervously at him, and he took an involuntary step back, his hand tightening on the nine millimeter.
“Uh huh,” huffed the first officer. “what are you doing with that thing?”
I reeled around and stared at him as though I'd been slapped across the face, and was angry instead of shocked. What was that supposed to mean!? My thoughts bristled. “Excuse me?” My tone said it all. I was not a pleased pony.
He didn't reply to me, and turned his attention back to Marcus, waiting for an answer.
“My friend and I are going to visit another friend,” Marcus wasn't happy with the rude comment either and added, “sir.” stating the truth in all honesty.
The rude cop cocked an eyebrow, and stared at me while I glared daggers back. His gaze drifted down to the laundry bag, looking suspiciously at me again. What was this, stare rudely at innocent bystanders day? Arrugh!
“Step out of the car please,” he stated in his authoritative tone.
Marcus got out, but I hesitated since the SUV was very high set. It was only maybe four feet, but I was no longer a six foot human. I gulped and jumped, landing on all four hooves successfully. I felt the second officer's hands on my back. I jerked away from him, but he looked at me apologetically. I guessed he was trying to steady, or catch, me if I started to fall over. We stared at each other a moment, awkwardness thick.
“Uh,” I said tentatively. “thanks?”
The young officer smiled slightly, “Uh, anytime?” and he backed away a few more steps.
At least one of them has some manners. I thought condescendingly at the other, older cop.
I was partially grateful that it wasn't me, human, and driving as I heard the first cop give Marcus the third degree. Trotting around the side of the car, I watched, extremely annoyed as my friend was subjected to various DUI tests. Like walking the line straight and touching his nose. The second cop had dutifully followed me, and looked on in confusion as his partner ordered Marcus to do this or do that.
“Sir,” the younger officer spoke up finally. “I don't think that that's necessary. I watched them pull up, his driving was fine.” I smiled at him as he came to my friend's defense.
The older cop glared at him, then at me (I glared spears back), ignoring common sense and ordered the, apparently lesser ranked, cop to search the vehicle. He tried once to argue, but the other made it abundantly clear that it was an order.
“Jackass,” I muttered under my breath, through clenched teeth. Marcus smirked at my comment as the cop patted him down.
Uh oh, what if he decided to pat me down? Don't think I could handle that! I tried to hide the growing blush. Well, where the hell could I possibly hide anything? No pants, no shirt, no problem right? My fears materialized for real as he finished with Marcus and gestured for me to brace against the car's body.
Eyes widened, but I didn't let down my glare. I stood my ground, and he gestured with more force, tapping his black polished shoe against the tarmac. My sneer only increased, but decided to cooperate. The sooner this jackass was done the better, but damn it this felt wrong! Rearing up facing the black SUV, I propped myself up. I saw the younger man's face through the open window as he searched the interior, he looked like he wanted to protest, but thought better of it. Quickly I gave him a weak smile before refocusing my glare at his partner.
He started on each foreleg, from hoof to armpit. Then on the hind legs. Despite my best efforts I couldn't ward off the shakes, this was so embarrassing! Worse, I wasn't even completely sure why! Finally, he finished with all my legs and moved on to my torso. There was a long pause. I glanced back at him and he seemed puzzled. Only one guess why: the wings. I could have spread them for him, made it quicker and easier, but he needed to pay for that comment earlier. He looked to me expectantly, and I shrugged.
He huffed as his gaze intensified, and knelt down behind me. I felt a small triumph that my smaller body made things more uncomfortable for h – oh HELLO!
Lightning shot up from my left side as the officer stretched out the appendage, accompanied by a fierce burning blush on my face. My body grew stiffer than petrified wood as muscles felt like they'd seized up. I could only imagine the startled look on my face, the only indication was that it scared the crap out of the younger officer and he bonked his head on the SUV's roof.
I felt... I felt violated somehow.
Before I could rationally calm down, my brain made that connection with furious response, and I lashed out with a rear hoof and struck the officer in the gut out of pure reflex. After that kick, I jumped several feet away, crouched in a wide stance, my head hung dangerously low. An oncoming breeze told me my wings were outstretched and on display, the furious blush remained as I breathed hard in and out, and a tickling sensation on my belly told me my tail had curled underneath. Maintaining that glare at the doubled over cop.
His partner rushed to his side, apparently not hurt after having hard contact with the SUV ceiling. What just happened? He didn't touch me where I thought he did, so what the hell was that? My gaze softened from furious outrage to confused frustration. I glanced at Marcus, who just stood partially in shock. He seemed to guess at my question and simply shrugged. Slowly I backed out of what must have looked like a combat stance and stood as neutral as I could. I didn't glare this time, instead I looked worried. Yes, very very worried.
The older man coughed and wheezed, the wind clearly knocked out of him. I would have smiled and said 'serves you right! What are you doing with that thing indeed!' but at the moment I was too scared at what was likely to happen. The gravity of what happened hitting me: I'd just assaulted an officer of the law!
Slowly the older cop stood up with the assistance of the younger officer. He looked at me while clutching his gut, confusion and anger apparent. I froze as I saw his hand tighten on the handle of his sidearm, only to be stopped by a second hand belonging to his deputy. Sternly, the younger one whispered something into his ear, and a moment later the hand fell away from the pistol. I released breath that I was holding, and caught my legs.
“I... I'm sorry,” I apologized for my assault on him, despite his bastardness. “I didn't mean to hit...” pausing a moment, reconsidering the action I'd taken. “...kick you. I didn't mean to.” My voice tone seemed to confuse him, he must have made the connection about my gender. Sure, I'd spoken to him before, but likely the older cop just ignored me because he was focusing on Marcus back in the car.
The sneer softened ever so slightly, hand still rubbing gut. I soon started to worry whether I'd damaged something, but he seemed fine. The least he'd get would be a (horseshoe?) shaped bruise on his stomach. Inwardly I smiled, outwardly I kept my 'I'm sorry' face. I glanced towards the ambulance and the third officer. He was looking in our direction, hand also on pistol, trying to work out what was happening and whether or not to investigate. I wondered which side of the fence he leaned on; being a jackass like the man I'd just kicked, or being like the more polite younger officer. I could live without finding out.
“Right,” the older man responded, steely gazed instead of scowling. “just keep those to yourself.” he warned.
I smiled weakly, maybe he wasn't that bad?
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
“Or he could be the most evil soul in all of the police force!” I shouted angrily as the two of us continued down the road.
Back at the neighborhood, before leaving us to our own business, the police officer I'd accidentally bucked in the stomach had given Marcus a speeding ticket. A speeding ticket! How the hell does he get away with that!? How can any decent person justify abusing their position as a means of vengeance? Oh, that's exactly what it was! That snidely, contemptuous, dare I say racist, bastard wanted revenge for me kicking him! Arrugh! I only regretted not having the presence of mind to aim lower.
I sat there, with my forehooves crossing my chest, fuming my cartoonish head off.
Marcus chuckled, and said evenly. “It's no big deal Sam.”
Did I hear that right? No big deal?
“It's a very big deal!” I spat back, emphasizing the last three words, “The bastard refers to me as a that thing. Subjects you, then me, to an unnecessary pat down. Gets what he deserves, and then has the gall to abuse his authority by giving you a damned speeding ticket!” finishing my rant with a frustrated huff, pouting in my seat.
Marcus's lips curled in a frown. He knew I was right, but he was too mild mannered to do anything about it. Sighing, he concentrated on the road.
“Well,” I started. “I'm not letting you pay that ticket.”
I felt the gaze on me, and without meeting it I replied. “I'll pay for it.”
“You can't,” Marcus said half matter-of-factly and a tinge of worry. “that ticket is three hundred dollars!” Noting the twinge in his voice, apparently he didn't want to pay it either. “That's way outside your budget Sam.” he finished with a concrete, “No.”
“You only got that ticket because of me,” pointing a hoof at him. “and because of whatever that reaction was! I'm not letting you pay... literally... for my mistake!” I finalized.
Relief and disappointment washed over me as Marcus seemed to let the subject drop a little too easily. Damn, I really wanted to argue some more to vent. He was right, and at the same time wrong, when he said I couldn't afford it. Right, because most of my paycheck went towards rent, bills, and what was left for gas and food. Wrong, because I did have some savings, a few thousand dollars, but that was it; which was meant for rainy day stuff, like if the tires needed replacing, or a medical bill or something. A three hundred dollar ticket wouldn't bankrupt me, but it would ensure Raman noodle soup as three squares for a month or two.
If I knew him, he'd pay it off as soon as it'd come in the mail, and I would likely forget. Not if a post-it note on my fridge had anything to do about it! I was gonna give him that money, even if I had to hide it in his microwave.
Devious plans aside, Marcus coughed to catch my attention.
I looked at him as he seemed to struggle with something.
A moment later he asked, “Just what was that reaction back there? That didn't look like a forceful hit or painful jab...” he trailed off and waited for an answer, light apprehension in his voice.
I pondered that question for a good while. What was that indeed? Marcus was right. Recalling the events, the older officer had merely examined the feathery wings. Mentally I felt him stretch out one wing to about half its span, and then that feeling came.
It felt a little like an electric shock, yet, not an electric shock. The feeling was definitely not like when I first jabbed the wing with my hoof, that was certainly the equivalent of a limb falling asleep from partially cut off circulation. That I was familiar with, having significant experience. Not recalling an impact, and not having a bruise, I was fairly certain he didn't assault me with a baton or something. When it happened, embarrassment, exploding anger, and mounting fear had washed in succession through my body; hence the kick that was likely of self-defense.
The only word that came to mind was arousal. My eye twitched.
“You know what?” I said finally. “I really don't know.” Then voicing some of my own suspicions and describing what I'd felt. Marcus didn't interrupt, save for the occasional nod or a deceptively bored sounding “Uh, huh.”
As I finished, and we got stopped by a red light, Marcus scrunched his face in concentrated thought. After a few moments, the light still red, his eyes briefly widened and looked at me again.
I knew that look, and groaned. “What now?”
“I think the wings may be...” he paused, again looking for careful words. “more than just wings.”
I blinked, not understanding.
Marcus sighed heavily, suddenly fascinated by the glowing crimson traffic signal, and muttered more to himself than to the pony staring quizzically at him. “How to explain?”
I sat and waited... really, what else could I do as passenger? Suddenly reminded why I hated road trips. The SUV lurched forward as the light changed colors, feeling that momentum once more.
“Well,” again with the word struggling. “the wings likely have strong, complex muscle groups that have tight knit clusters of nerves. These nerves, being in a part of the body that is relatively thin, could be more sensitive to outside stimuli. And, well...” he paused, worrying me more.
“Go on,” I urged. Although I was starting to get bored with the anatomy lesson, I knew this was important, and strained to pay attention.
“Other parts of the body have many groups of nerve endings that cause physical reactions beyond just feeling mildly.” He glanced at me a moment, trying to gauge if I had understood that part. And was rewarded with a sigh, realizing he'd have to explain further. “Certain parts that are considered private.”
Oh... Oh! Okay, that made sense. Kind of.
“So then,” I asked. “why was it so very intense then?”
“If I had to guess, I'd say it's because of the gender change,” go figure. “the female private parts have twice as many nerve endings than the male's.” He explained in doctor's monologue. There'd be no snickering in this medical lecture. “And perhaps that anatomy applies to pegasus wings too.” He theorized. Guess his courses in medicine were paying off.
“So, in a way...”
Marcus suddenly turned into a half scowl, “Don't say it...”
“My wings spread out in that way was a...” I paused, enjoying that half scowl evolve into a full one. “...a wingboner?”
Marcus groaned, probably would have face palmed if he wasn't driving.
“Ha!” I elated. Me: one, Marcus: zero.
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
Finally we had arrived.
The two story house in the semi-ritsy neighborhood belonged to Ashley's parents, and was her current residence. She had finished college, and now had to contend with paying off student loans; her parents being generous, offered up their home while the debts were paid. It made perfect sense, but wouldn't have worked for me, I liked being on my own too much.
I looked over at Marcus, unbuckling his seatbelt and then mine, a partial look of worry on my face. His own concern reflecting mine; even he wasn't sure what was going on with Ash, or how she'd react to me.
Opening and closing his mouth a couple times, trying to find words of encouragement. Finally, he just shrugged. I couldn't help but smile weakly at the attempt; even though he had come up with nothing, it was the thought that counted. Together we made our way to the white-washed door, black rubber shoes next to twice that number in bare orange hooves.
I tried to shy away to the side, halfway hiding in the bush as Marcus rung the chiming doorbell. A major part of me did not want my, albeit failed and hopeless, crush to see me like this. What would she think? What would she do? Would she scream and shout 'monster' at me? All these and worse thoughts swam through my brain, each trying to bubble up to the surface over one another. Beads of sweat developed on my forehead, turning my coat a slightly darker shade of orange for a few moments. Breathing became a little more difficult and a good bit more rapid.
Instead of shoving the crinkled up bag to my face, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him, he had to kneel to avoid slumping over in an awkward position, he had an 'everything will be fine' look on his face. I smiled despite myself, more at him having to kneel than anything for some odd reason. The gesture worked somewhat, heart rate decreasing and breathing became less stressed, as I exited my rear half from the nearby bush.
Glancing to my left, towards the drive way, I was relieved to see that the red sports car, and the black pick up truck that usually accompanied it, were gone. At least Ashley's parents weren't around to complicate matters.
Pointed orange ear twisted back towards the door, dragging my attention away from the empty drive way. There was a kind of clumsy scratching coming from the other side of the door, the metallic pitter of a dead bolt clacking against wood, followed by faint mutters and curses. A voice that, for the most part, resembled Ashley's own – except different in a way I couldn't quite pin. My head swiveled in time to see the door open...
...and for my eyes to pop and jaw to drop.
Oh my...
Before me stood another equine face that was very different from the one that appeared in the bathroom mirror. This one's coat was a very light gray, almost the light shade of blue. The mane was a decent bit longer than my own, and was for the most part black; the exception being two stripes of green, one a minty green, and the other a dark green that wouldn't be out of place on army camouflage. The mane and tail matched to a tee as far as color, and were very straight, the former partially obscuring the deep, sharp brown eyes of the equine's worried face.
That wasn't what made my jaw punch a hole through the ground though. It was the spiraling, slender, cone-shaped... what, appendage?... that protruded from the head between the eyes. I stared at it, all manners forgotten.
Why were my wings extending?
Marcus seemed to be the first to recover. “A-Ashley?” Marcus stuttered, probably in as much shock as I.
She didn't bother responding to the large human, and eyes danced over the pegasus mare staring at her – more than once the wide brown eyes lingered on the outstretched wings. Her face screwed up slightly in annoyance, like she was trying to think of something, lips moving like they wanted to make words.
Then, the equine's eyes widened as it hit her, jaws dropping in tandem, “S-Sam!?”
I nodded dumbly.
I already knew what fainting felt like, and now I know what it looks like as the equine's eyes rolled up slightly before closing and the limp legs became gravity's play thing.
That's what I felt as I took in the spacious kitchen inside Ashley's house. It was at least three times larger than the small cooking space that my apartment offered. Glorious, plentiful counter space with regular sized oven and stove top (the dinky, electric one I had was painfully tiny), and the part that made me pea-green with envy was the island counter top that dominated the central space. I liked to cook, and my small studio made that challengingly difficult. Oh, if I had this kitchen at my disposal...
A snicker caught my attention.
Marcus was sitting in the living room, watching me as I gushed over the fabulous kitchen, a grin covering his face. It happened every time we came to visit Ashley here; I would always gawk over the kitchen, daydreaming of what I would do with it. Ashley would roll her eyes and Marcus would snicker at me – just like he was doing now.
Normally I would playfully flick him the bird, but instead I just blushed. Feeling the heat on my face.
Momentarily I stared at my hooves, reminded of yet another function I'd lost from lack of fingers – not that I flipped people off on a regular basis (with maybe the exception of traffic). Then a chill ran down my spine as I looked around the admittedly awesome kitchen.
How would I cook the same way again without those digits?
Now that's a depressing thought, frowning intensely.
Cooking wasn't a talent that I planned to exploit for a career, but it was damned fun. Making and preparing your own food, eating things that were fresh. I could make soups that would blow the pants off of Campbells. I could make Chinese food that would put restaurants of the same genre to shame. I could accurately guess the recipe of anything by hearing the first hoof full of ingredients – plus the main ingredient of course. There was such satisfaction in it as well, completing that meal after putting forth the effort, and devouring the results! That was the best part.
And as I slumped against the island counter top, the unmistakable pit in my stomach said that I might never be able to do things like that ever again.
“Damn it,” I muttered, wiping away the single tear.
I glanced over at Marcus in the adjacent living room. He was sitting on a white leather couch with the equinized, still unconscious, body of Ashley, prone on the next seat over. It had nearly been half an hour since she fainted at the front door. We were both worried, yet relieved.
I thought back to the male pony at the police scene. The way he had injured himself shaving off his coat. As I trotted into the living room, I stared at the long, stiff appendage that stuck out of Ashley's forehead. There was a word for it, but, like several things today, it eluded me. Morbid fantasies of my friend freaking out played across my mind's eye. Ashley using a hammer and chisel, a very scary manic look on her equine face, getting ready to break the spike off. Another of her using a blowtorch to cut it off. Needless to say, all of them ended horribly.
“I guess, maybe, we were lucky?” I asked, still staring at Ashley.
“Yeah,” Marcus replied slowly. He had one of his dark skinned hands on one of Ashley's gray hooves, holding it comfortingly. I knew he was thinking along the same lines I was. That Ash may have completely lost it and tried to remove the thing.
Briefly, I wondered if I would have went crazy and tried to saw my wings off if I didn't love the idea of flying. Soaring through the sky, high above the ground and the hundreds of objects affected by gravity, laughing my tail off. Staring at the horn (that's the word!), I wondered what it could do? Was it just for show? I doubted that Ash would know.
“How are you holding up?” Marcus's question shook me from my thoughts, and I had to ask him to repeat as the question just bounced off my inattentive head.
“Uh, fine. I guess.” glancing at Ashley and back to him. “I'm just worried about her.” gesturing with a hoof. Honestly, I was more than worried. Despite her revealing the sexual orientation that sent me spiraling to the dumps, the feelings I had did not go away. They only receded, becoming a distant, painful reminder.
I tried to recall Ashley's face, her real face, and not the cartoon-ish equine that had replaced it. The image wouldn't come. I furrowed my brow in frustration, concentrating. Nope, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember. Then I tried to see my old face, and that drew a blank as well. My eye twitched. It felt like a very different kind of violation. Like a piece of me had been plucked away and thrown in the garbage. I started hyperventilating again, and graciously took the old paper bag, breathing rapidly. One of my eyes twitching every several breaths.
Now I was wondering if I had come out of this sane.
“What's wrong?” Marcus asked in alarm. I had been breathing into the bag for several minutes, repeating that disturbing revelation in my head.
I can't remember! My brain screamed at me. Her face, mine! I... I... The world blurred a little bit as my eyes misted over.
Then my vision snapped to a different part of the house, accompanied by a sharp, stinging pain in my left cheek. Reflexively, I caught myself before I was knocked completely over. The thoughts were jarred from my head, and I immediately snapped my head back to where it had been, just in time to catch Marcus putting his arm back on his lap. I blinked several times, processing what just happened.
“Thanks,” I said, flushing slightly. “I needed that.”
Marcus smirked, “Oh anytime. It was fun.”
I glared and smiled at him at the same time.
A small groan drew both of our attentions.
“She's waking up!” I stated the obvious gleefully.
“Sam, you should hide.”
Huh?
“B-but why?” I asked sullenly. I wanted to talk to Ash, comfort her if she needed it. She would need to see a... well maybe not familiar face, but a friendly one at least.
“Because,” he said, gesturing to Ash as she stirred slightly. “I don't think she's ready to deal with seeing another pony yet. I mean, she fainted when she saw you. She needs to deal with her own thoughts first.” Marcus explained pointedly.
Grudgingly, I knew he was right. Ashley's previous reaction was less than reassuring.
I looked sadly at my good friend, feeling my wings flutter a bit, and bowed my head in resignation before trotting behind another couch on the other side of the room. Safely out of sight.
I didn't like this, I hated it. I wanted to be there when she woke up, I wanted to be the one holding her hoof with my own. Instead I was lying down like a dog again, hiding behind a couch! For a moment I felt a pang of jealousy directed at Marcus, since I knew he would be holding Ashley's hoof in his hands. Arrugh! The thought of palms with digits attached just made me all the more angry. I rested my head against the back of the comfortable furniture, waiting impatiently.
Calmed down a bit, I recalled my previous thoughts now, somewhat surprised.
That wasn't fair of me. Marcus didn't feel that way about Ashley – I did, and I was pretty sure she didn't feel that way about any man; if for no other reason than because she wasn't into men. I sighed quietly, feeling those ears manipulate against my skull.
“M-Marcus...?” the pointed ears perked up as the conversation began.
“Yeah, I'm here Ash.” I'm here too damn it!
“I... I thought I heard...” I could almost see Ashley looking around.
“Don't worry about it,” What!? “just concentrate on pulling yourself together.” I bristled at his previous statement. Oh you're getting such a clopping!
“I had the weirdest dream,” Ash began telling her story. “I woke up completely... wrong. The doorbell rang and... it was you and this weird pony... creature... thing,” I blushed, hard, and shrunk at being referred to as a thing; nearly reminded about that ignoramus cop from before. “with wings.”
“Yeah,” Marcus kept his tone even, not making any of his usual cracks or quips.
“It was terrifying,” Ashley continued, her sweet voice trembling. “I'm glad it was only a dream.” I winced at that statement. Oh Ash... “I can't imagine being one of those... things. The one I saw was... orange. Can you imagine?” I thumped my head in my hooves. Okay, maybe not the most stellar color, but I didn't exactly get to choose!!
“Better than gray...” I whispered sullenly to myself.
“What was that?” Ashley's voice spoke up and I froze, listening intently.
“Nothing Ash,” Marcus reassured her. I would have grumbled, but didn't dare make another sound... yet.
“Um, okay...” she replied, not sounding fully convinced. “say, have you gotten taller? You seem... a lot taller for some strange reason.”
“Uh...Ashley?” I heard a ruffling sound that suggested Marcus shifting in his seat. “It... wasn't a dream. Something's happened, and it's not just you.” his tone was full of worry and uncertainty. Ashley remained silent, confusion had gotten the better of her.
Marcus soundly gulped. “That orange equine you saw earlier was...” he paused. What was this, dramatic effect day? “real...” his last word carried a heavy weight.
“I... I don't understand.” it sounded more like she simply didn't want to understand.
Marcus sighed heavily and called out, “You can come out now.”
I stood up slowly, not really sure I wanted to do this again, and thought of that comforting hand on my shoulder. Everything will work out, one way or another. If that was true, why did I feel so strongly otherwise?
I trotted around the corner with a small smile, trying to keep the rising tension to a minimum.
The gray coated, black maned mare stared blankly at me, and slowly over a period of a few seconds, her eyes widened and pupils shrunk to pinpricks. I tried to move closer, but Marcus discreetly waved at me to stay back. Damn it I wanted to run up and tell her everything was fine. I watched apprehensively, and with quite the heavy heart, as her small petite body started to shake visibly. The beginnings of a breakdown becoming apparent.
“AHHHHHH!” she shrieked, and I covered my ears as quickly as I could.
I wanted to lock myself away, throw the key in a hole, and build an apartment complex over top of it. It was pretty much the reaction I feared; she was screaming in horror at the sight of me. My heart plummeted, on its way to China for sure.
Marcus, one ear clutched by his hand, motioned me back behind the couch. I quickly obeyed, and not long after I did, the shrieking died down to gasps and small screeches between breaths.
“Wha... wh... what!?” Ashley stammered between panicked breaths.
“That was Sam,” Marcus said plainly.
“Huh-what!?”
Marcus didn't reply, but I imagined he nodded glumly.
“I – but,... that...” she paused for long, painful seconds. “Oh I'm so sorry!”
Taking that as some sort of cue, I peaked around the couch at her. She had the cutest look of apology on her equinized face, ears dropped back and forehooves up to her mouth. Just like before, I trotted out from behind the couch slowly.
I was at a loss for words. Here it was, calm confrontation, and I had nothing to say. The scream was condemnation enough, even though she apologized earnestly. My heart was still on a one way to China as far as I was concerned.
“Oh I'm so sorry Sam,” Ashley apologized again, holding her hooves out to me. “I- I didn't realize... I...” she stammered pathetically, there was probably a thousand things she wanted to say, but the words simply wouldn't come.
I sighed heavily, bowing my head a bit. “It's okay.” No it wasn't, but I'd comfort her anyway. I put on my best fake sincerity face, hopefully the super expressive pony face would work to my advantage. It did, Ashley relaxed visibly, but it was apparent that it still bothered her greatly. Nothing got by Marcus though, as he stared at me, I got the feeling he knew I was hurting from it. No matter, as long as Ashley was okay, I would live... even with a heavy heart. A new habit seemed to have developed, as now my wings liked to flutter when I was nervous or uncomfortable.
Ashley gasped, and immediately looked like she regretted it.
I blinked, at first not realizing why she was gasping.
“Sam is also a pegasus,” Marcus said casually, then gestured with a hand.
A smile crept across my face, and I showed off the one thing about this ordeal I was actually excited for. As though I was putting on a spectacular show, I slowly spread my wings wide and high, allowing them both to bask in their glory. Marcus had seen them partially before, but even so, his face was priceless as his eyebrows arched and he lowered his sunglasses onto his nose. Ashley's jaw was gaping, blinking several times in disbelief as she stared at the splayed wings.
Six and a half, maybe seven foot wingspan.
Blushing, I fought the urge to close them. Damn I'm doing that a lot lately. What is your problem face!?
“Hot damn,” Marcus snickered again, “and Sam still likes to show off...”
I gave him a look that definitely supported that statement, seeming to say You-know-it!.
Once Ashley manually closed her jaw with a hoof, I decided enough was enough and folded down my glorious wings. The motion was fluid, even smooth, and didn't cause the least bit of discomfort or felt awkward like before. It was a little startling how quickly I had gotten used to this foreign body. What I thought would take, at least, days of diligent practice, was quickly squishing down to less than several hours of time.
“So,” Ashley tried to break the ice. “have you flown yet?”
“Nope,” I replied, grinning again. “but I will try to soon. Oh, very soon.” I couldn't hide my excitement.
“Oh I would like to see that when you do,” Ash said, her own enthusiasm building slightly as a weak smile made itself known. I had a feeling she was still trying to make amends for freaking out at my appearance. I hoped this wouldn't become a regular thing, but it seems it might.
Marcus seemed nervous, so I asked, “What's wrong with you?”
“Er-” seems I caught him off guard, he jerked out of his thoughts and nearly dropped the dark shades perched on his nose. “Might want to wait on that. We still don't know how the public will react to... flying pegasus pony mares.”
My eye twitched at the word 'mare', reminded yet again that I was gender swapped.
“Mare?” Ashley scrunched her face in confusion, at first looking at something distant in thought. “Mare...?” she looked at me, looking for an answer I was reluctant to give. I nodded very slightly, eyes in another direction towards the tiled floor. “Mare!?” I imagined she was gaping at Marcus now.
I dragged my vision away from the creamy tiled floor to look at them.
The gray, black maned mare that once, and still does, held my heart had that look again. The one that suggested another panic attack. Muzzle open and eyes pinpricked. Marcus just looked awkward. I could imagine the gears grinding in her head, and I recognized that sound: fast breathing associated with hyperventilation, and my still human friend handed the other mare the crumpled brown bag.
Almost five minutes had elapsed by the time she got a hold of her breathing and calmed down.
Since Ashley was in a little bit of denial, we each explained. I told her how I woke up this morning like this, and then Marcus explained our 'discovering' I was no longer male – and he added that the male pony would be called a 'stallion'. After a moment, she blushed for some reason, turned away from us and her head lowered. I thought I heard her sigh in relief before she turned back. Then, impossibly, she blushed more.
Before either of us could stop her, Ashley darted away towards her room shouting, “Be-right-back-see-ya-later-bye!”
Marcus and I exchanged looks, and shrugged.
Mares. Was I going to be this crazy and dramatic too? Ugh.
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
We'd been waiting patiently in the living room.
As much time had passed since we had arrived at Ashley's house, I occupied the spot she had vacated next to Marcus. Lounging with my hooves curled underneath me, while the human slouched. I don't handle boredom very well, and I was struggling to stay awake. I tried to occupy my thoughts with why Ashley was acting the way she was, like that weird (yet somehow adorably cute), intense blush from earlier. But more importantly; what was she doing in there!?
His Sam-is-thinking-again senses tingling, Marcus distracted me with chit-chat about the upcoming video game launch. I knew he was dodging the question of whether or not I was actually going to the midnight event, so he asked questions about the game itself. If I thought it was going to be fun or not, had the developers listened to the community or not, and shared speculations on what the campaign would hold based on the trailers and leaked information. It was a long time before the subject matter began to whither and dry up. In a way, I was more excited for the release now, not the least bit disappointed that I likely wouldn't go to the launch the way I was now; but who knows, maybe that'll change.
I sat up on my forehooves and stretched. I glanced at the nearby cuckoo clock on the wall and gawked. “It's been almost an hour!” Staring at Marcus, who wore his indifferent casual look. “What the hell is she doing!?” Borderline outrage.
“Well, whatever it is we should just leave her to it.” Marcus suggested, ever the patient pseudo-older sibling. Ugh, sometimes he's too saintly and patient.
“Well,” I mocked. “I'm going to find out what the deal is...” and with that leaped off the couch-
-and promptly fell on my face, feeling a straining sensation in my rear.
I looked back behind me, Marcus grasping my two-toned brown tail in his hand to prevent me from disturbing Ashley. I broke out in indignation that would make a convicted felon balk, glaring the same daggers at him that I used against that arrogant cop earlier.
“How-how dare you!” I said dangerously, fighting a blush at the fact my naked rear was in the air.
“Just leave her be,” he more sternly suggested as I jerked my tail from his grip.
“Marcus,” I tried to reason, temporarily forgetting his little stunt as I dusted myself off and stood before him. “what if she's breaking down in there? What if she needs our help? Has that occurred to you?”
“Yes,” he replied, scooting the glasses up his nose, then crossed his arms. “and unless we hear a crash, a scream, or crying, we should not disturb her.”
I felt more annoyed now than ever. By the time we heard a crash, a scream or crying, it might be too damned late! I relayed this thought to my friend, but he held his ground firmly. I paced quickly back and forth in front of him, glancing occasionally.
I was plotting. I was smaller and faster and had more legs to carry me, and could likely get to the door and, maybe, open it before he caught me. But on the other hoof, his two legs were longer, and even though I felt confident in my ability to ru- gallop, Marcus still had the body he was born with and therefore had the experience and muscle memory etcetera. And fingers, I bitterly remembered, thinking about his grasping my tail. The scenario played in my pony head.
I would say or do something to make him relax. Then, when he was sufficiently off guard, I would dash off to Ashley's room. I would then open the door as quickly as possible; with any luck, I'd garner enough of a head start to get the necessary time to wrestle with the round door knob, and hopefully have enough time to slam and lock the door. I fought the smile creeping along my muzzle as I imagined him beating on the door, and me doing/saying everything to rub it in; including but not limited to chanting 'You mad bro?'.
Turns out I didn't have to fight that smile for long.
Marcus casually sat forward in his seat, now perched on the very edge, elbows resting on his knees. Casual as hell, he looked at me through those shades and shrugged, as if suggesting he changed positions to get more comfortable. I knew better. That was a preemptive strike pose. Somehow, someway, he knew what I was plotting and countered. I cursed inwardly.
Damn it! Trying to keep an even face. Why must you be so perceptive!?
Awkwardly, we stared at each other, daring the other to make the first move. Marcus lifted a hand to his glasses, lowering them to his nose again to look me in the eyes.
Oh ho ho, I thought. It. Is. On!
My brain conspired and my mouth moved, “So... thirsty?” tensing.
“No.” Marcus deadpanned.
“Are you sure?” I cooed. “Pretty hot outside...”
“I'm good.” Damn it! He didn't even blink.
I thought for a moment, desperate for an excuse that would succeed in letting me get out of arms reach. Oh, that might work...
I stretched briefly, “Well fine, I give.” I said. Marcus arched an eyebrow, not buying a single word.
“I may not be able to trick you into wanting a drink,” I continued, slowly turning towards the kitchen. My opponent didn't move a muscle, but I imagined he was mentally preparing. “but I actually want some water or something.” sincerely.
I walked slow as could be in the direction of the kitchen. Marcus got up to follow. Instead of following directly in my hoofsteps, he went the opposite direction – placing himself between the kitchen and the most direct route to Ashley's room. Clever girl.
Well, guess it was now or never to try this. I braced up against the counter top with my forehooves, still watching Marcus and he observed me, and used my dexterous wings to open the cabinet containing the glasses. Smartly, I chose one of the re-usable plastic cups – wouldn't want to break an expensive glass one.
I was almost distracted from my plan at how the wingtips seemed almost as manipulatable as fingers, and had a decent grip. I frowned at the cup.
“Huh,” I said evenly. “I wonder if Ash has any soda in the garage?” saying it more to myself to keep the ruse. I watched Marcus shrug through my peripheral vision, trotting to the other exit in the kitchen, leading to the garage. This time he followed behind me, through the cooking room.
Momentarily I was around the corner and out of sight. The way to the garage was to the left, I went right, into the dining room – which had carpet that silenced my hoofsteps. I smirked, unable to control it anymore, and broke into a maddening gallop through the dining room and back into the living room. Once the carpet gave way to the tiled floor though, my hard hooves echoed off the surface. Passing the first entrance, I glanced at Marcus and stuck a tongue out at him as I ran by. Ha!
My assumption seemed to be correct. I was the faster and Marcus was lumbering trying to catch up, still recovering from my deception.
I rounded the corner and started to go up the stairs-
-and face planted, again, just a few steps up.
No! I mentally screamed in frustration, looking back at Marcus as he held my tail for a second time. I was partially relieved that he wasn't standing there like he had caught up without effort. In fact, he didn't; the thing that held my tail wasn't even his hand! It was a long, metal stick with a rubber clamp at the end. And Marcus himself was sprawled on the floor, holding onto the device with a death grip.
“Gotcha!” he stated in triumph. “Really, though, nice try. I give it a...” Marcus feigned like he was giving his next words careful thought. “Eight point five.” finishing with a cocky smirk.
I bristled with fury! I was so close I could practically feel the door knob in my hooves! Arrugh!!
“And. Where. Did. You. Get. That.” I said between breaths, glaring at him.
By then Marcus picked himself up off the floor, grip still firm on the handle and thus my tail. I wasn't going anywhere. “I snagged it right outside the kitchen,” he didn't try to hide the gloating smile. “Figured you'd still try something despite your 'honest' words...”
Damn his perceptiveness!
He drew closer and grasped my brown tail with his free hand, and then released the clamp; setting it aside. I tried one last time to break free, lashing out at his arm – and completely missed. The world turned upside down and I felt gravity reverse. Marcus now held me aloft by my tail.
Oh the indignity! I crossed my forehooves and pouted at him as if to say: Really, did you really just do that? Curse this tiny, small, short, useless pony body! Arrugh! I'm pretty sure steam was escaping my muzzle as I snorted at his smirk.
“I hate you,” I spat evenly.
“I know,” smug, devilish smirk apparent. That troll face appeared in my head again... with shades.
“Did I miss something?” we both turned to see a rather distressed looking Ashley-pony staring down at Marcus, still holding me upside down by my tail. “Never mind, I don't want to know.” dismissing our strange shenanigans with a hoof. I blushed again, struggling against Marcus's grasp.
“Put me down already!” I yelled at him, flailing.
“Awe, do I have to?” he asked innocently, like a child wanting to keep a lost kitten. “You're so cute when you're mad... and embarrassed.”
I froze, feeling that twitch in my eye. “All those times I thought you were my friend,” I began. “that was before I learned you were evil.”
He snickered, I glowered.
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
“Really?” I asked in disbelief. The three of us had returned to the living room. “That's what you're so concerned about?” Marcus sat next to me on the very same couch while Ashley paced in front of us.
“What do you mean 'really'?” Ashley reeled, seemingly appalled. “It's nothing short of the worst. Possible. Thing!” I rolled my eyes at the over-dramatization. Apparently, the reason she had scurried off to her room was because she was embarrassed about being without clothes; spending the last hour trying to squeeze into old clothing. Since she was still naked, I assumed that she had no success.
A thought occurred to me. How necessary was clothing to ponies anyway? Privates weren't as readily visible on equines as long as they didn't rear and spread too often. What may be visible was concealed pretty effectively by the fur coat. Although, despite this, I wasn't too keen on the idea of trotting the streets naked, or going to work nude. Even so, this seemed a minor problem at best; far less than the crisis Ashley was making of it. Maybe the mare/female brain hadn't fully kicked in yet.
I recalled not minutes ago when Marcus was holding me upside down by my tail. I didn't try to shield myself, far too frustrated by my failed escape attempt. I was certain he wasn't looking or anything; or at least be better not be! Glancing at Marcus with concealed suspicion.
Ash was blushing slightly, “I can't believe how... how comfortable you are with this!” she fumed. “Are you sure you're a wo- ahem a mare?”
“Yes,” I muttered, feeling my ears droop. “I'm sure...” dropping my head after finishing the simple answer. She must have been referring to how not-subconscious I was being.
This time Ashley didn't look apologetic. For some reason, I felt like everyone was out to get me today. It sucked.
Marcus sat passively when Ashley looked to him for support. I saw him freeze, and then he held his palms up in indifference. Naturally this didn't matter for him, he was clothed and human still. Ashley and I gave him flat looks.
“Hey,” he said. “not my fault you two got turned into ponies. And it's not my fault that whoever, or whatever, did it didn't transform your wardrobes... ladies.” That twitch again.
“Arrugh!” I growled at Marcus as he grinned. “You're enjoying this way too much.”
“I know,” the human replied. Then added more seriously. “but for real, this isn't that major of a problem.”
Pricelessly, Ashley's jaw dropped as she now believed she was outnumbered on the issue. I stared at him, eyebrow cocked, waiting for him to continue.
“Sam, isn't your mom a practiced seamstress?” Marcus questioned.
Why didn't I think of that? “Yes she is!” I said, smile growing. “Maybe she can convert some of our old clothes for us, Ash!”
The idea didn't go as well as I had thought. Ashley seemed more unsure now than ever. “But, that would require ruining several outfits...” she bemoaned while nibbling on her hoof tip.
I groaned loudly, “It's either that, or stay naked.” another blush broke out across my face at that last statement, and Ashley shot me a look. I flailed my hooves defensively, “Not what I meant!!” trying to defuse that land mine.
“I am not sure I want to know what you meant,” she said, eyeballing me. Damn it, the blush grew more! I swear if my eye twitches anymore it's going to pop out of its socket! I knelt on the couch and buried my head in my hooves, feeling very doomed.
Marcus came to my rescue for once. “Sam's right. It's not like the local department store is going to have pony-sized shirts and jeans.” ever the voice of reason. Not to mention mine would require special additions due to certain feathery limbs.
I sighed, not wanting to think about visiting family this soon after the... what would this be called? It wasn't an accident, or at least I don't think it was.
“Yo-you mean go outside?” Ashley asked timidly. “Like, outside outside? I can't go in public like... like...” she gestured at her equine body, and I couldn't help but take advantage of the moment to look my crush over. Even as a pony she was so very cute.
Marcus stroked his chin in thought. Then, he gave a wicked smile. Oh boy...
“I know that look...” I said warily.
“Then you'll like this even more,” he looked at me and gestured at Ashley.
Her beautiful brown eyes narrowed in suspicion, “What?”
A sudden realization swept over me as I realized what he was thinking, and couldn't help but smirk. I turned to gaze at Ash, “Hope you haven't showered yet...”
Her eyes widened instantly at our manic grins. No Ash, you're not going to like it.
“Ugh!” Ashley groaned in the back seat of the car next to me. “That has to be the most vile means of transportation ever!” the gray mare whined, my ears protesting against the constant banter. “How in the world did you put up with that?” she asked, and then sniffed at me, trying to detect whether I as atrocious or not.
We had left the house shortly after. I had walked next to Marcus while he toted a second bag of laundry over his shoulder, with Ashley tucked away inside. The human didn't do anything funny with her bag like he did when carrying me, perturbing me slightly; I let him know by bucking his shin a bit. To which he just smiled that troublemaker smile of his. I could see why it was funny though, and couldn't help but snicker when Ashley started voicing threats of death, doom, and promises of vengeance.
I cocked an annoyed eyebrow at her. “Well whining about it isn't going to help...”
“Whining?” Uh oh. “I am not whining. I am complaining. Do you want to hear whining?”
“No!” Marcus spoke up as he drove his SUV, on our way to my parent's house. “Oh God please no.” his silent smirk disappeared at the promise of whining examples. I cringed along with him, once Ashley started going it would be worse than nails on chalkboards! Ugh, I was getting a headache at the mere thought of it.
“No, no! That's okay.” I smiled nervously, waving my hooves to dismiss the dreaded demonstrations.
“Hmph,” Ashley turned her nose up, very ladylike. “Well maybe you shouldn't be so rude then.”
Well, I couldn't help but think she was kind of right. I knew from experience that riding in a bag of dirty laundry was no fun; my nose burned at the thought and I sneezed.
“I wonder if I could convince your mother to add in some designs,” Ashley pondered, eyes to the roof and a thoughtful hoof to her chin.
She went on to name countless little details and ideas about fashion that did little more than attempt to tranquilize my brain. Although, the thought of being 'rude' to the person I had affections for, felt like it would be a bad idea, so I focused intensely. I guessed pony ears must be more sensitive than a humans' own, as I didn't have much difficulty hearing her drone on about fashion this or that. It was listening that was difficult.
To assure her that I was paying attention, I nodded when it felt appropriate; the feint of a smile across my muzzle. Every now and then, through sheer instinct and much practice, I threw in a deceptively interested “Uh huh,” mixed with an “Oh...”
“That sounds like an excellent idea,” I added when she went on describing something for a pair of something else. “maybe we should wait until we get there?” I suggested, trying to steer the conversation away to a possibly more interesting subject.
“Oh very well,” Ashley looked downtrodden, and I almost regretted doing that to her. “perhaps you're right. I'll write them down in case she isn't home at the moment...” she paused and looked at her hooves in confusion. She huffed, “Dumb hooves. How am I supposed to write without fingers!?”
I honestly had no idea. Even texting was difficult without the bemoaned digits, recalling how long it took to just type one message on the phone with my nose. Damn it, I felt another sneeze coming on. Hope I'm not sick.
Achoo! Ugh.
My energy felt utterly drained from the sneeze, and I slumped in my car seat, feeling my eyes droop. The adrenaline from recent events must have sapped me more than I thought. Resigning to watch the traffic pass by with the occasional multi-story building swoosh on in the opposing direction. I'm reminded again of why I hated car trips.
Mercifully soon, though, the journey came to an end and I graciously stretched once Marcus's SUV came to a stop on the slanted driveway of my parent's home. The house wasn't as grand as Ashley's, for one it was just one story instead of two, and had less of a front yard. But it was far from a slum. Thanks to a 'housing association' every owner was held responsible for the upkeep of their home, and therefore the neighborhood as a whole always looked nice. Mom and Dad always liked it. Me? I liked the strip mall that was located, literally, around the corner.
The three of us proceeded up the concrete walkway, Ashley praising mother's gardening. The front yard always looked different every few months as my mother always changed the plant scheme when the older vegetation inevitably died. She wasn't a bad gardener, quite the opposite, but the weather here was just that harsh on plants. The gravel yard decorated with a collage of reds, blues, and purples this time from what appeared to be selections of flowers selected with care.
I glanced at the driveway, nearly forgetting to check. The only vehicle that occupied it was Marcus's. My parents must still be at their respective jobs, or maybe just out; hard to tell.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Oh it's –” Ashley started to say, and then sighed in frustration at her bare hoof. “half past hoof...” Marcus and I snickered.
“It's eleven thirty,” the human replied, pushing the shades on his nose up further with a finger.
Hmm, they're probably still in school then, I thought to myself. All the better, I don't need any of his shit right now...
Before leaving my apartment to head to Ashley's, I had Marcus take my set of keys, anticipating that we might come here – since he didn't have a set of his own to get us into their house. He opened the door and playfully bowed. Ash took it in stride and trotted in with her snout held high, feigning snootiness a little too well, me rolling my eyes as I followed; muttering 'smart ass' at him as I passed.
I yelped as the door suddenly clamped down on my rump.
I sat on the floor, rubbing my flanks with my hooves. “Why you...” I growled at him when he shut the door behind him.
He didn't bother to hide his smirk, but shrugged like he didn't do anything at all.
“You're despicable,” I said as I collected myself from the tiled floor. “you know that right.”
“Why, Marcus,” Ashley said a little too sympathetically. “that's no way to treat a lady.” I facehooved. And here I was, about to believe she was going to come to my rescue... stupid, stupid me.
“Oh, you're terribly right,” Marcus feigned shock, bringing his hands up to his mouth, and I glared at him. “where are my manners!”
“I hate you both,” glowering as both of my good friends roared with laughter. My mind thought of gruesome ways to absolutely murder them right now.
“Oh, lighten up ma'am,” Marcus continued the assault once he could breath again, wiping away a tear of amusement.
“Okay, let's give Samantha a break,” Ashley chimed in, gesturing at me with a hoof.
I bristled and blushed, eye threatening to break its socket once again, and I wondered if my wings would take flight of their own accord. The room felt suddenly hot as my fury spread from my face to the rest of my pony body. How dare they make fun of me, after all this bullshit happening right now, how can they make jokes about this!? They didn't care how I felt, as long as they could get a good laugh out of it! Clenching my teeth and eyes simultaneously, I felt my wings open with a whoosh.
“At least I don't have a freaky horn on my head!” I shouted through misty eyes, well beyond upset. The chuckling immediately died, and they both stared at me, surprised as hell at my outburst; but I wasn't quite done. “Don't ever call me Samantha! My name is Sam, God damn it!”
Finishing my rant, still breathing heavily, I stared at Ashley angrily as she stared back in shock. Soon after, the shock faded away and she touched the horn on her head with a hoof, growing more upset by the second at the reminder of her own situation. I glanced at Marcus, who wore a somber expression as he removed his dark sunglasses.
“Sam...” he said low.
“Don't Sam me,” I cut him off. “how can you just make jokes like that! I'm having a hard enough time as it is!” things have gone from bad to worse throughout the day. Surprise after shocking surprise and I was breaking down from it. In the back of my mind I knew their teasing was just light hearted fun, trying to make the best of a bad situation. But honestly, enough was enough.
Marcus pointed a finger in Ashley's direction, and I turned to look.
My anger and fury cooled faster than fresh forged metal in cold water. The girl I loved was crying, her eyes clenched shut as she whimpered loudly. Immediately I felt like a jerk. Whether it was justified or not was irrelevant now. I had upset my friend, my heart on its way to Australia now.
With conscious effort, I folded my wings back down and tried to think of something to say. Marcus strode up to her and knelt, placing his hand on Ash's small shoulder. Despite not requiring my glasses anymore, I felt blind. They were also just trying to deal with this crap too, and I took it too far. The teasing was just trying to alleviate tension. With a cool head, I recalled exactly what was said, and none of it elicited my behavior.
“Ash?” I said quietly, moving a bit closer. Scooting, she turned away from me. I got a look from Marcus. He didn't look angry. Hell, he never looked truly angry; he just looked... annoyed. I felt the sudden urge to lock myself in my room and be denied dinner. “Ash, look...” talking calmly. “I... I didn't mean it. I'm sorry.
“It's just...” I sighed, why couldn't this be easy? “everything that's going on. Waking up, finding all this out... wayyy too quickly, I just got a little stressed, okay? I'm sorry.” I reiterated my apology sincerely.
Ashley slowly turned her heartbreakingly sad gaze back to me. Wow, what I said really was that bad. For her sake and my own, I smiled weakly. It was only seconds, but it felt like an eternity as my heart was encased in ice, waiting for her response; any response. Wouldn't be surprised if she never wanted to speak to me again. Although I desperately hoped that wouldn't be the case, the mere thought chilling to the bone.
“I'm sorry too,” hubazzuwah!? “I shouldn't have pushed you like that. We've both been turned into these...” she gestured at herself and then at me. “things. I have a horn and you have wings. But...” Ashley paused, as though considering her next words. “you've been... changed in a way that I can scarcely imagine.” she was referring to me going from guy, to mare. My ears drooping at the reminder, shoulders slumping.
Marcus sighed and nodded in agreement. “Same here.” I nearly fell over, he practically never apologized for his shenanigans. “I took the goofing around a little too far. I thought that maybe I could help with this by fooling around.” now he looked downtrodden. Suddenly I thought this was confessions anonymous or something.
“Are you sorry for the laundry bag?” I shot him a wry smile.
He caught on quickly. “Let me think about that one...” he smirked, acting as thought it was a tough decision. “Mmmmm, nope.” Rolling my eyes, unable to keep from smiling. I glanced at Ashley, she was stifling her own laugh, drying the tears, and I admired her beautiful face. Her wonderful smile melted the ice around my heart.
Silently I vowed to watch my attitude. I wasn't going to let this break me apart from my friends. Truth be told, they may be all I have left, the future of everything else being dismally uncertain. Come hell or high water, I would support them; and my heart warmed further as I realized they would do the same for me.
“PONY!”
I half jumped out of my coat at the shrill voice that came from the kitchen. I turned towards the source and was tackled by a yellow blur, the wind knocked from my lungs, forcing a loud oomph as the brunt of the impact was weathered by nearby, soft furniture.
I saw stars, and oddly, small cyan pegasi with multicolored manes circling my vision, before blacking out. The last thing I recall was a finger poking me, and a familiar male voice stating, “I think he's dead...”
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
“Ohmygosh,” a young, squeaky voice chanted a little too loudly for my aching head. “ohmygosh, ohmygosh! Are you okay big brother? I'm so sorry!” a small, blond headed girl, hair tied in a ponytail and drooping over her shoulder, stood in my blurry vision, apologizing profusely.
I groaned. “Someone get the number of that linebacker...?” Honestly, I felt more like I was hit by a semi, even though it was a nine year old girl. Damn small pony body!
“I'm sorry!” the little blond schoolgirl, whom was my younger sister, Shelby, reiterated her apology once more. “Please don't be mad!” begging with her puppy eyes – my one weakness when it came to her. How could I stay mad at that face?
“Hello to you too, squirt.” I said, smiling at her as I sat up on my make-shift hospital bed (the couch). Disturbingly quickly, the sad face disappeared and was replaced by a crazy huge smile. She jumped in the air and pumped a fist as though to shout yes!.
“This is so awesome!” Shelby squeed, palms to her small cheeks. “My big brother is a pony!” and she laughed that cute little girl laugh. Well, glad to see someone is happy about this... kind of. Marcus sat on the opposing couch with his legs crossed, Ashley next to him, hooves curled underneath; both of them smiling warmly.
“So, you don't seem very surprised Shelby,” I cocked an eyebrow at her, still maintaining my grin. “how was school?” trying to change the subject for now.
“Oh, it was okay,” smiling widely still. “lots of kids were out sick today though. At least a third of my teacher's class. Dunno about the rest of the school. Even Terry wasn't there.” three guesses why Terry, one of Shelby's friends, and the rest of them weren't there. “I hope he isn't sick.” I momentarily gazed at Ashley, and she grimaced. If my suspicion was right, then kids were affected too. Oh boy...yay for another kettle of fish...
Although it wouldn't be that bad for Terry at least. Shelby and him were best friends; or at least the last time I checked, recalling a lengthy description of a sleepover not more than a month ago. And therefore he would have the support if needed.
I then asked her why she was home in the first place, as school should not have been dismissed for another three hours. The girl explained that that day was a half-day for school -- something about preparing some project.
“Big brother?” Shelby asked, knocking me from my thoughts about Terry and their elementary school.
“What's up?” I replied, and gave her my full attention.
Shelby seemed to be struggling with whatever was on her mind, scuffing her shoes on the floor, hazel eyes shifting. I smiled and placed a hoof on her shoulder, instantly that uncertainly seemed to lift. “Are you...” she paused, searching for the words. “are you still my brother, or are you my sister now?”
I fell over on the side of the couch, mentally reeling from the question. Honestly, it was a good question. Mentally, I still thought of myself as a guy; but physically I was the opposite. Matter of fact, how the hell could Shelby even tell the difference anyways?
I asked her how she even knew the difference, and Shelby looked at me, surprised and annoyed.
Huh?
“How can you not know?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow at me and frowned.
I didn't answer, sitting there dumbly staring at her. She sighed in annoyance, and made her way to the entertainment system. A few buttons and the screen jumped to life, displaying the main menu to one of the gaming consoles. Deftly, she rummaged through the menus and selected an icon I was quite familiar with: Netflix.
Using the controller, my little sister sorted through the lists upon lists of online stream capable movie titles. Until she found what she was looking for.
“A-ha!” she said smiling, and looked at me. Taking that as cue, I tuned my attention to the TV as one of the selections began to play.
A cheerful, musical beat filled the room as the cartoon picture of a very pink blimp soared above the clouds. I squinted, trying to make out the purple and green creatures moving around inside the balloon's basket. Before I could though, a rainbow smear suddenly drew the camera away. Replacing it was a very colorful, pastel town.
Two things crossed my mind. First, the creature in the blimp, and the others that now pranced and trotted across the screen were ponies. Colorful, pastel, cartoon ponies. Stallions, mares, fillies (how did I know that term?); the whole nine yards.
Second, I've seen this show before; a long time ago, likely before it was even available on Netflix. I didn't actually watch it. My sister had been into cartoons like this for a while, and always begged me to see the new episodes with her on weekends. Again, I cannot say no to those puppy eyes. Ashley smiled at me, probably thinking about how cute it was, thinking I watched shows like that. I glanced at Marcus, and... was that the hint of a smirk on his face? Just over the top of his shades I could barely see his eyes, and they were looking at the playing show, not me or Shelby.
Odd, I thought, momentarily ignoring the TV.
Finally the song ended and the title was visible. The title and six ponies, all with very different hair and color schemes, stood smiling underneath the title, like they were posing for a group photo. I guessed they were the main characters or something.
Shelby paused the screen right there, freezing the main title, looking at me expectantly.
“Oh,” I said, not wanting to keep her waiting. “I remember now.” Well, kind of.
“Oh!” Shelby started again. “Oh, oh! Get off the couch and stand up a minute!”
I looked at her quizzically, and asked what for.
“Ugh, I just need to see something.” she said impatiently.
“See wha – ack!” before I could finish my question, Shelby flung her arms around my neck and started pulling me off the couch. I don't remember her being this strong!? In three seconds flat, due to the success of the 'surprise' part of the surprise attack, I was already on the tiled floor, flailing in partial panic.
“Hold still already, I can't get a good look...” my little sister pinned me to the floor. How was this possible!? A blush rose from my face, and I looked to my friends for help. Ashley was frozen in shock, but even so, a smile slowly crept on her face, stating the situation as comical (and it kind of was). Marcus looked calm as ever, a neutral expression on his face. Actually, he looked... annoyed? The hell? Like he knew what Shelby was doing and wanted to tell me to 'get it over with'.
Get what over with!?
I felt a hand on my wing.
The blush intensified ten fold as a new fear washed over me, shooting my head around in shock. With a great deal of effort, I froze my pegasus body; terrified I might hurt Shelby, remembering the lightning and that bastard of a cop from earlier. The last thing I wanted to do was injure her.
Okay! I thought, desperately trying to keep control. She probably doesn't know what that area is! She doesn't, she doesn't! Damn it, keep calm! Sweat broke out across my brow. Keep the fuck calm! I held my breath, focusing on something else, anything else.
“Awe,” Shelby sighed, and I tentatively looked at her. Still frozen stiff, still holding breath. Her still clutching my wing (gently, I noted). “you're a blank flank.”
Huh?
At the moment I didn't care about what the ignorant girl called me, saying between gasps. “Can. You. Please. Let go. Of my. Wing?” It took her a few moments to realize she was causing me a considerable amount of discomfort before releasing the appendage. As soon as her hand let go, I snapped the wing down tight at my side, and allowed my breath to calm.
I wanted to yell. I wanted to scream at her to never touch me there again. Fighting to hold my tongue, I shakily got to my hooves, standing before everyone. Feeling a strange sensation on my back, the kind when you grip something too hard and the knuckles go white, I forcibly released the mental hold I had on my wings; briefly fluttering them to better help feeling return.
I kept my muzzle shut, but let my expression tell the tale I wasn't happy.
Innocent Shelby just looked plain confused... and very worried. I was giving her the feeling that she was in deep trouble. She needed to know, but I couldn't be the one to tell her. I might say something wrong or set the inappropriate tone and make things worse. I motioned for Marcus.
I explained, in whispers, what I wanted him to do and he agreed. Gently, Marcus got Shelby to follow him to the other side of the room, kneeling to be closer to her eye level. Ashley had gotten off the couch and trotted up to me. She wore a mask of intense concern. I must have looked pretty frazzled.
“Blank what now?” she asked. A little surprised that she didn't ask about the wings and the reaction.
“Flank,” I said evenly. “Blank flank.” I had no idea what that was supposed to mean. Through my still racing thoughts, I twisted my head to look at my rump, lifting the wing to get a better view. There was nothing there on the orange coat that covered me.
Okay, flank was another word of saying 'thigh', or 'backside', I suspected. And blank was, well... blank. So, putting two and two together, Shelby was looking for something that wasn't there to be found. I looked up at the frozen show title ponies, searching their own flanks (something that caused the blush to re-emerge. Arrugh!). Each of them sported a small picture. One, a cyan pegasus, had what looked like a white cloud with a multi-colored lightning bolt. Another with a trio of blue and yellow party balloons. So on and so forth.
What were they? Tattoos? Somehow I doubted it. Putting tattoos in a show for children seemed... wrong somehow. Like it would be very suggestive or something. Yet, the evidence was right there. Recalling several girls back in high school that dressed poorly, many of them had tattoos just above their butts. Definitely suggestive, and I was beginning to suspect the seemingly innocent show.
Was Ash blank as well?
I tore my gaze from the TV and craned my head to look at Ashley's flank.
“Uh,” she said apprehensively. “what are you doing?”
Impossibly, I completely forgot that that was considered a breach in privacy. Or was it? No clothes and all. Hurriedly I explained that I was looking to see if she had anything on her flank. For once, Ashley's eye twitched, but stood there anyways, looking indignant.
Hmm, okay, nothing there eith – ow!
My forehead burned as Ashley brought her hoof back down to the floor. Apparently I must have been staring too long, as she had clopped me on the head. I didn't bother asking, since I already knew, and rubbed my head with a hoof; smiling sheepishly. Caught in the act, but it was worth it.
I glanced over in Shelby's direction. Marcus must have been taking the long and boring approach, taking his time explaining. He must have only recently gotten to the part about the wings being a 'bad place' to touch, as Shelby's cute hazel eyes went wide and she brought her palms up to her mouth. Then proceeded to stare at me in apology. Softening my own gaze, to assure her I wasn't mad.
It was understandable. Shelby and I often playfully wrastled and rough housed. I was glad she wasn't a girly girl, it made her that much more fun. Considering the recent tussle, I'd probably have to get used to not always winning. Come to think of it... was it my imagination or was she just a bit taller than me now...? Yay...
I snorted at the thought, eliciting a cocked eyebrow from Ashley.
Yep, definitely taller than me, I thought as Shelby approached. Damn it.
This felt so wrong! I was the older sibling and she was taller than me! Arrugh! Dumb pony body.
“Sorry,” Shelby muttered darkly, her eyes on the floor.
I felt like a jerk again. Here I was effing about being short (again), and poor Shelby was beating herself up over what was an innocent accident. Somehow I needed to make it up to her; I didn't want her to be upset over something that really didn't matter. I put my hoof on her shoulder.
“Hey,” I said. Balancing on my hind legs (wow, that feels awkward!), I used my other forehoof to lift her chin. “It's okay squirt. I'm not mad.” giving her my best grin, and added a peace offering. “How about later I buy you an ice cream?”
That made her happy! Shelby waved off my hooves and began choking the life out of me with a bear hug (carefully avoiding my wings, I noted). It made my heart melt. “Okay, okay!” I coughed and sputtered, chuckling at the same time. Marcus and Ash smiled next to us.
“That's so cute...” Ashley squeed. If that sound had come from anyone else I would have rolled my eyes in disgust, but from her it was somehow adorable. Another blush forming on my face.
“Wow,” my little sister said, finally allowing me to breath again. “you're turning red a lot more big brother.” and here I was hoping they wouldn't notice. And confound me, it grew!
Marcus snickered. “I think we're embarrassing her.”
Thud.
“Indeed,” Ashley chimed in and Shelby laughed at me as I collapsed on the floor.
I sighed deeply and muttered, “I swear you're all evil. Evil I say!”
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
After all the drama, I decided maybe this kid's show could offer some more information. For one, the characters were so very eerily similar in shape, size, and color schemes to Ashley and I. I paid special attention whenever it showed scenes where pegasi were flying, and my eyes were practically glued to the one pegasus known as 'Rainbow Dash'. Inwardly I squeed, thinking, hoping I would be able to perform half the stuff she did.
And she seemed pretty damned cute. Twitch. Okay, it's one thing to check out Ashley, and another thing to gawk at a fictional cartoon character! Ugh... that had better be the pony brain talking. I must be crazy. That's the only explanation! (I hoped, the alternative was a bit scary).
And second, Shelby insisted we watch the show for reasons I suspected that she just wanted to watch it – which was fine. We came here seeking help from my mother and her sewing skills, and she wasn't here right now. So anything that passed the time was welcome.
“So,” Ashley asked after another episode ended, the lyrical credits scrolling. “A cutie mark represents a 'special talent'?”
Shelby nodded, her attention focused on braiding my mane into a ponytail. What? It was a harmless enough request (from her). Besides, she used them puppy eyes on me again when I initially said no. I swear it was a form of cheating powers or something.
Oddly, Marcus stayed quiet as well. I almost expected some kind of input from him, but he just kept his silent attention on the cartoon. Did I want to ask? Did I want to know?
“And this...” my crush now asked, gesturing at the horn on her head. “can perform magic?” she seemed very skeptical.
Marcus chuckled now, “After what happened, are you honestly going to discount anything? Right now, I wouldn't be surprised if it started raining chocolate milk from cotton candy clouds.” Shelby snickered at Marcus's comment. I got the feeling that was an obscure reference to something I was missing, and found myself very confused; my ears drooped and I stared at the ceiling. Would chocolate milk rain cause roof damage? The hell did that thought come from?
Ashley just nodded, dismissing the weird comment. I smiled when she tried to stare at her horn, causing her big brown eyes to cross.
Damn it, why was that so cute and irresistible!?
I fluttered my wings, deep in thought. If half of the stuff was possible in real life as in the show, being a pegasus was going to be so awesome. Walking on clouds, moving them, making thunder and lightning by bucking them. And all that on top of being able to fly, period. (And fly potentially very fast). I doubted the truth behind the 'Sonic Rainboom', and doubted I could perform such a stunt, but it would definitely be something I would try at some point.
I hopped down off the couch and started towards the kitchen. Marcus asked where I was going and I answered, “Yeah, I haven't eaten since I woke up this morning.” Kind of weird that I didn't get hungry until just now. I'm usually ravenous in the morning.
I opened the fridge door by curling my hoof around it (the handle was very wide), and began poking my muzzle among the contents, looking for a suitable snack. I had suspicions that Marcus still wanted to go to the movies, and we would likely eat at the food court, but I wanted to make it there alive first! There was a decent amount of leftovers in the fridge, but nothing I was interested in at this time. Feeling an odd craving sensation, I opened the bottom drawer which held the vegetables. My eyes locked on some fresh carrots, snatching a couple immediately.
I closed the door, the carrot tips in my mouth, and froze.
Hidden at first by the open door, I was now face to face with another human. He stood only a head and a half taller than me and wore black, all black. Not like a burglar in a cat suit or anything like that, but regular clothing black (jeans, shirt, etcetera). His shoulder length hair and goatee matched his outfit, and on his back was a backpack, a brand name energy drink clutched in his hand as he looked at me, surprised.
We stared at each other for a while, until. “The fuck!?”
I winced, not because of the reaction to my appearance, but because he was cursing with Shelby in the next room. And she did not need to hear that sort of language!
“Mpatch mphor mouph!” I scowled, speaking around the carrots in my mouth.
The man recoiled, and his mouth opened a bit, eyes narrowing at me. I could feel the gears turning in his head. Aside from mom and dad, I was the only one that told him to watch his language around Shelby. He mouthed my words, putting the numbers together.
“Sam?” my teenage brother, Dan, replied.
I rolled my eyes and nodded. The energy drink clattered to the floor.
Author's Notes:Kudos to anyone who gets the "I think he's dead..." reference!
I stared at Dan and he stared back. Me on one couch with Marcus, Ashley and Shelby while he sat on the opposite, likely trying to be as far away as humanly possible while remaining in the house. Judging by the scowl on his face (which he almost always wore, he was what some parents might describe as one of them), I could tell that whatever Dan was thinking wasn't good.
I found myself thinking about our relationship as younger and older brother. Things were fine for a while, maybe even good, some several years ago; the three of us played and laughed, and shared a bond akin to what my friends and I had now. But as he aged and started into his teenage years, Dan simply became... unbearable. His cynicism grew, as did his obsession with darkness and angst, wallowing in a self-imposed depression. Why? I couldn't comprehend it. Often I pondered whether he thought it made him feel 'cool' or something; like he was too good for the world or maybe even the opposite. Everything he was, and liked, now reflected in everything Dan possessed. Music, clothing, art, just... everything reflected the most undesirable traits in a person.
Dan's lips curled into a half-sneering smile, “This is too rich...” my own frown deepening. “Sam watches girlie ass shows, and becomes one of the stupid characters. Amazing, truly.” Twitch.
I glanced at Shelby, sitting next to Marcus next to me. Her bright smile had disappeared and she stared at the tiled floor, twiddling her thumbs. Even though I didn't have to worry about her repeating our rude and thoughtless brother's language, I still deeply disapproved. But what could I do? I mean really do? I was older than him, yes, but I wasn't mom or dad; since Dan never listened to me before, he definitely wouldn't now. Before, whenever he got really out of hand (before I moved out), I could somewhat intimidate my younger brother into calming down with my size and muscular build. But now...
“It's not like I chose this Dan,” I deadpanned, keeping my gaze steady.
“Oh, I know that.” he replied, the insipid smile deepening. “It is just too funny that you're a freak now.” Dan explained as though he were demonstrating basic math to a retard.
On guard, I braced myself. I wasn't going to play his little game. Dan wanted a rise from me, to get me upset, angry, whatever. Unfortunately, that's how he got his kicks, making others feel like shit. Mentally I looked at Ashley and Marcus, thinking whether or not Dan had any friends at the high school he attended, with conflicting results. It made me feel sad, despite myself, that he likely didn't have any; or if Dan did, they'd be just as messed up as him.
Strength in numbers, I sighed aloud, letting the world disappear from my gaze for several moments. I felt Marcus' hand on my shoulder. Bless him. Then felt a warm shudder as Ashley's hoof joined it. I thanked them both with a smile. Opening my eyes I looked at each of them. The gray mare to my right wore an apologetic smile, like she wanted to say sorry for every cruel word that dripped from Dan's mouth. Marcus looked stern, grimacing at my little brother; if Marcus was a violent person, I'd think he would have wanted to deck Dan. Honestly, I kind of wanted to... just a little. Instead the man in shades appeared disappointed.
A contemptuous chuckle drew my attention, and gaze, back to the predominately black dressed teenager. “Oh that's so cute.” Dan spat, mocking a cute voice. “You even let her braid your hair. Adorable.” he noticed my mane, the majority that flowed off the back of my head braided into a ponytail.
I heard a sniff a short ways to my left, and my ear twisted towards it, followed by my head as a whole not too long after.
A shadow fell over my eyes as Shelby sniffled softly. Ever since I moved out she's had to deal with Dan. As he got worse and worse, the teasing grew and grew. Whenever I could, I would force him to stop. I'm ashamed to admit that I couldn't prevent a lot of Shelby's tears, instigated by Dan's cruelty. It was impossible to keep an eye on them twenty-four-seven, but I felt that was just a horribly lame excuse.
“I don't care how you talk to me, Dan,” I said, feeling my gaze turn more irritated. “but leave little Shelby alone.”
“And what are you gonna do about it?” Dan immediately replied, challenging me. The mirth that was in his voice disappeared. “What can you do about it?” that almost sounded like a threat, and I bristled.
“I can imagine that hooves hurt more than fists,” my rebuttal, eyes narrowing dangerously. Ashley's hoof applied a little bit more pressure to my right shoulder; but I hardly noticed. I wasn't going to let Dan intimidate me, or let him torture Shelby anymore.
“Oh that's a riot.” Dan pretended to be shocked, raising a pale palm to his forehead. “Would that mean you hit like a girl too?” Huh?
I cocked an eyebrow at him, something not quite clicking.
“If that's your failed girlfriend whats-her-name there,” Dan pointed at Ashley next to me. “you look similar enough for me to guess.” a shiver ran up my spine, he'd figured it out like Shelby had (well, sort of). I drew up a few mental images of the equinized Ash and me; come to think of it, our figures were very similar. “You're not even a guy anymore are you.” it wasn't a question.
I bristled from multiple wounds. The oldest one, Ashley rejecting me, being the more painful by far. I knew I thought I was over it, but was I really? Still, reminded every time we did anything together, anytime I saw her, every time we were together, those feelings would resurface; and the knowledge that they wouldn't be a reality. That old stone came to say hello from my stomach.
“Now see here,” Ashley finally joined the conversation. “that is quite enough.”
“You haven't changed one bit,” Marcus added sourly.
Dan seemed to waver, now that he was outnumbered.
I sighed, but still felt that support from my friends. “Yes, that much is true. I'm no longer a guy.” I finished, closing my eyes again. Perhaps this was a good thing. If I wasn't at terms with this yet, then it needed to happen sooner or later; and for this, sooner was better.
The uneasy frown became an annoyed grimace as mocking laughter reached my eardrums. Honestly, it was no surprise, but it brought that blush back to my face as my anger slowly grew. At some point my eyes had opened and I glowered intensely at my other family member. I found myself no longer caring how or why Dan turned out this way, and now all I wanted to do was buck his teeth in for it. Understanding why the misfortunes of others brought him such joy was beyond me; however that wasn't on my mind as I leaped off the couch and hovered just in front of him.
When it donned on Dan that I was now very close to clobbering him from above, the laughter stopped and he stared up at me, sinking a bit into the couch's cushions.
“Nothing to say now smart-mouth? Huh?” I loomed over him, using as threatening a voice as I could. Truth be told though, that was easy. I waited a few moments, and when it became clear that Dan really didn't have anything to say, I added, “Didn't think so...”
A few seconds more and I let myself drop onto the tiled floor with a loud clop.
The first apparent thing was the burning between my shoulder blades, feeling like someone was holding a red hot fireplace poker there, twisting it into me with malice; accompanied by those giant ant things in the fourth Indiana Jones movie. I'd once burned half my hand with hot grease, it hurt like hell, but this was far worse. So much so that it nearly brought tears to my eyes. And I felt immensely tired.
At some point Dan must have thought up something to say, probably misinterpreting my grimacing in physical pain as emotional, and said some snide remark. In truth I didn't hear specifically what he said, but subconsciously it must have been clearer than bells. Recalling the other's faces was the only clue I had to go on. Subconsciously it registered in my head and I reacted. I lashed out with a rear hoof, and connected. This time I was in enough control to intentionally aim low; and Dan's slouching posture gave me a clear target.
I turned back to see the effect.
Dan had closed his legs tight, palms squished between his thighs, clutching the assaulted jewels. His face squinted in a pained grimace, letting it be obvious that he was in intense anguish. With his limbs drawn taught, it didn't take long for him to lean over, and then fall, onto his side on the couch in a fetal position. He groaned softly, a sweat breaking across his brow.
Serves you right punk, I thought as I stared, pitiless at him.
That should be the last time he insults a pony when he's standing, or rather sitting, right behind them. I'd been hit in the balls before, and it's no fun. My anger clearing, I almost felt sorry for him, emphasis on almost. Even so, I never balked into a fetal position like he did now. Either he was a virgin to the experience, or hooves really did hurt that much more. It occurred to me only now that I might have injured him more than intended, but that thought quickly expelled; he was already recovering and I took what time was left to quickly trot to the other side of the room, rejoining Marcus and the others.
Over the next sixty seconds or so, Dan had regained his composure enough to sit almost upright. Occasionally, if indignantly, rubbing his crotch. The whole time since he was able to open his eyes, he glared at me and I glared back. Probably should be glad mind-reading wasn't one of the freaky additions of the ponification, because I likely would have been horrified at whatever Dan was thinking right now.
“I hope I'm not interrupting anything...” an older female voice drew a twist from my ear, as well as everyone's attention.
In the kitchen doorway that lead to the garage stood an older woman clad in standard black and gray gym clothing, decent in shape, said clothes drenched in sweat. Pink ear buds of an mp3 player in her ears. Long brown hair, matching mine, drawn up in a ponytail, eerily similar steel blue eyes gazing back at us. She surveyed the array of people, contemplating.
Shelby jumped off the couch, rushing by me so quickly that I nearly tipped over, and hugged the woman's legs.
“Mommy!” she shouted, that gleeful smile that I love returning to her face (at least I noticed it when the dizziness wore off). Mom had finally arrived.
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
She was finally home.
Introductions went by quickly. She recognized Marcus of course, but we had to explain that the gray and orange equines were Ashley and myself. Mom seemed not to believe it at first, Marcus and I tensed, ready to catch her if she started to faint. Luckily that didn't happen. Instead she went into generous host mode and offered everyone drinks while Marcus and I explained everything, starting with me waking up in the morning. Much to my relief, Dan stayed quiet the whole time, sinking into his own little world; even when we got to the part where he came home, omitting the argument that ensued only five minutes ago.
“Quite the interesting tale,” Mom sipped on some fresh coffee, digesting everything she'd been told. “well, it could be worse.” she finished, then her eyes widened as some thought occurred to her. “You didn't try to drive did you?”
“No!” I answered quickly, waving my forehooves. “No, of course not! I can't even see over the dash, much less work the pedals at the same time!”
“Oh, thank the lord,” she sighed with relief. “I heard on the radio that there was a lot of car accidents happening around the whole city, and I worried that you may have been in one of them.” she downed the last of her coffee as though it were hard liquor, then headed into the living room. I hadn't moved from the floor since she entered the house, and craned my neck to look up at my mother as she stood right in front of me.
She knelt, coming almost to eye level with me.
Mom wore that grimacing worry that crossed her visage every time she thought something bad might happen. I stared into her eyes as they switched back and forth, peering into my own, searching. Was this it? Was this some sort of judgment or conclusion? My heart thumped faster at the thought, scared more now than I had been the whole day. More scared than when Marcus and I were dealing with those police officers. It's funny how parents can have that effect. It was only a few seconds, but it felt like it had dragged on for hours.
Then her gaze softened and became warm. I'd almost missed it when her bare arms wrapped around my neck and the breath I was holding was pushed from my lungs, her hug thrusting me to her chest. Inexplicably I felt my lower lip quivering, and I rested my head on her shoulder, staring down at the white tile with my ears plastered on my head. After a moment longer, I tentatively brought my forehooves around my mother – and winced. They were too short to wrap completely around like they used to be. Instead of being irritated at my shortness, like I had been the rest of the day, I just felt sad. So much had changed.
She pulled away from me, and I immediately felt a sense of abandonment. Until it dawned on me that Mom was still holding me by the shoulders. I sniffled – wait, when did I start crying? I hurriedly tried to wipe the tears away, but she beat me to it, feeling her slender hands on my cheeks. I lacked the strength to look back into her eyes. I was too afraid of what I'd see. Would it be fear of what had happened to her son? Would it be judgment of the fact I wasn't even her son anymore? As odd as it sounded, would she be angry about what happened? I just didn't know – not sure if I even wanted to know. I feared that if I did find out, that it would destroy me. After all, if one couldn't find solace in the love and comfort of their parents, then what was the point of even going on?
Involuntarily I shivered, thinking about the potential of that dark path of thought.
Against my will, a warm hand gently forced my muzzle up from the floor, drawing my eyes. I thought about clenching my eyes shut, not feeling ready for this at all, afraid of what I would see. Curiosity got the better of me, keeping the eyes open. I stared back at Mom's face.
All uncertainty and fear washed away like so much dirt down the shower drain. Mom's kind eyes showed no hint of apprehension, anger, or resentment. In fact, they looked... unchanged; still holding that soul warming kindness that had quieted a crying Shelby so often, years ago. Her smile eased my heart in such a way that only one other had ever done. A hand ran through my mane, eyes still glued to hers, and then Mom spoke.
“This doesn't change anything Samuel,” her voice soothing. And then I caught the subtle word play on my name (I swear, was everyone able to pick out the gender change!?). Mom used the male connotation, and that reinforced everything, making all the difference in the world to me. “you're still my son, and I still love you,” my heart melted, and she finished with. “and I always will.”
I smiled, having the forewarning of tears, “Thanks,” I choked. “I love you too.”
Mom smiled a little more, and then pulled away for good this time. “Now,” she said, standing up, still staring at me. “do I want to know what Dan said to deserve a kick in the you-know-where?”
Thud.
Nothing gets by her. I hate mother radar.
___---***::: <o> :::***---__
A few minutes later Ashley and I were in the spacious master bedroom that mom and dad both shared. Both of us laid down, side by side with our hooves curled underneath, on the California King sized bed. The room was fairly standard. A pair of dressers, one for each of them, with vanity mirrors propped against the far wall opposite the bed. All along the walls were painted leaves and grape vines; an online purchased decoration that Mom was keen on decorating the house with. The only room that didn't have similar decor was my old room, although I bet that's changed since I moved out some ten months ago. Oak end tables flanked massive bed. An executive desk junked up with a computer and office papers, folders and paper clips sat in the corner. The only thing that really felt out of place was the pair of locked and secured filing cabinets in a corner; holding things related to dad's work. For a little bit, I found my eyes holding over the metal cabinets... and the high tech electronic locks and number pads on them, curious as to what was contained within – and wondering if any of it was relevant to what was happening.
“Ooohh!” a distressed moan dragged my thoughts back to my frantic mother, running this way and that in the master bath and walk in closet. “What did I do with it!?” I almost asked what she was looking for, but stopped myself when I realized I likely wouldn't know where it was... whatever it was.
She paused in the doorway, staring at Ashley and I on the bed, and proclaimed for maybe the tenth time, “You two are so adorable!” Ash smiled and nodded with her eyes closed, I blushed and looked at something in the corner – oh look, a dust bunny. As Mom hurriedly continued to scurry this way and that, gathering the materials she needed.
After 'explaining' about the argument between Dan and I, we added in the original reason why we even came here: to see if mother could use her sewing skills to modify the clothing that Marcus used to smuggle us both to the car the first time. She eagerly agreed, and ushered us both to her room. Initially, as I was being shoved through the door, I looked back at Marcus as though to say 'help me!', this was going to be a fashion bore-fest. He just smiled and wave, mouthing the words 'have fun' at me. Curse him. Dan retreated to his 'lair' as we referred to his room.
“A-ha!” Mom exclaimed, coming back with a large, plastic box with latches and handles opening it on the floor. She pulled out a small notepad and tape measure.
Then she asked Ashley and I to stand side by side on the floor, we obliged. Staring hard, her fingers to her chin in thought, Mom began muttering seamstress lingo to herself as her mind processed what needed to be done; likely adding possibility this or idea that. I glanced over at Ashley, and she seemed to be waiting for an opening to express her own ideas. Inwardly I sighed, was it possible to die of boredom? I was certain that would be the case here, as I didn't even like sitting still for haircuts at the barber shop. Ugh.
Minutes went by as mother ran the tape measure over almost every square inch of our equine bodies; she even took measure around my wings and Ashley's horn, sparking conversation that would blessedly pass the time.
“Well I'd say that officer was definitely out of line,” Mom agreed as I flexed my left wing back and forth slowly for her. She mentioned something about it being important for the vests and... blouses? Please tell me I heard that wrong. Mother went on to mutter about flexible material for stretching, pushing her reading glasses on her nose, jotting down notes.
“Yes he was,” I deadpanned, grimacing at the wall.
“And magic!” at some point she'd made her way to Ashley, briefly staring at the horn on her gray head. “I can hardly believe it.”
“I am still not sure I do,” Ashley said, again making her eyes go cross from trying to stare at the bony appendage. I struggled and failed to stifle a laugh – then winced as mother thwacked my forehead. Now Ash laughed. No fair!
“Hold still you,” was her excuse as she stretched out my foreleg, taking measurements.
Another few minutes and dozens of measurements and notes later, Mom appeared to finally be done as she stood back up to her full height. Tapping the pencil against her lip, she then began scribbling who-knows-what, again muttering fashioner nonsense to herself.
“Well that ought to do it ladies...” mom paused and looked at me apologetically. “sorry...”
I just rolled my eyes and shrugged, giving her a wan smile. Which she returned warmly.
“All right then,” she continued as though it didn't even happen. “I have your measurements, and at least a little bit of both of your clothing. I'm certain I can create something smashing; or at the very least convert the old rags in a few days.”
A few days!? Wow, that would be great! I voiced as much and she smiled. I turned to leave, satisfied. “Thank you so much!” I reared and hugged her as high as my tiny body allowed. Stupid short shortness!
“I also have many ideas for some new outfits for you...” she said with a mirthful grin. Should I be worried? I think I should, since I can't read minds.
Ashley now chimed in, “Oh, I have some too! We must discuss!” I playfully gagged and they both practically shoved me out of the room.
“Well,” I said, faking indignity as the door slammed behind me. “I never.” It was a good laugh, I could hear them both snickering through the door, and totally worth it.
I trotted my way back over to Marcus, whom had been busy braiding Shelby's hair into a ponytail matching mine. I cocked an eyebrow at him, mildly surprised; he just shrugged, made what I guess was supposed to be a puppy dog face, and rolled his eyes. Oh, I see, works on you too huh. Must be cheating little sister powers, it has to be.
My ear twisted towards the other end of the house to the steady beats of rock. Dan was playing his music loud again. I certainly didn't miss that little detail when I moved out. It was always annoying, and I had no doubt he would get hearing damage; I liked mine loud too, but not that loud, and with headphones so as to respect other people's tranquility. Unfortunately not everyone has the same taste in music. I briefly thought about jumping on him about it, then working my way towards an apology for that low blow. However, something in my head said that would be a bad idea. Likely he was still fuming over it, and only seemed calm because mother was now home and he'd have to watch himself. It's a shame that it took the presence of one of our two parents to make him do that, instead of doing it automatically himself.
Even the rambunctious little sister was more mature than the emotional teenager. It was still a ways off, but I hoped that Shelby wouldn't turn into another Dan. I doubt anyone could take two of them. With that thought, my gaze turned back to the little blond headed girl. She smiled and waved playfully at me, which I returned.
“Aaaand, done,” Marcus proclaimed, finishing that last braid of the ponytail.
“Thank you!” Shelby squealed, already playing with it. She ran away, launching herself into dad's big easy chair that was way too over sized for her, and continued watching the cartoon show.
“Hey Marcus,” I whispered, turning towards the human now. “got a sec?”
“What's up bud?” he leaned down in his seat, coming close to me, peering over the rim of his shades giving his full attention.
“You still want to go to the movies, right?” I asked.
He blinked a couple times, considering the suggestion he had made before learning either of his friends were transformed into ponies. Marcus scrunched his lips and brow into a frown, mulling this over before asking, “Are you sure you and Ash would want to?”
I nodded. Really, I couldn't just go hide under a rock. Sure, the immediate introductions were done. Friends know I'm a pony? Check. Family knows I'm a pony? Partial check (dad still doesn't know). And work would come soon enough. After those few days were up, everyone would already know about the, apparently worldwide, event. Who knows, maybe a number of my co-workers were transformed too. Besides, those carrots were starting to wear off and I owed Shelby an ice cream; the last thing I wanted to do was incur her wrath, remembering that tackle from earlier!
“I'm sure I want to,” I emphasized. “I'll ask Ashley when she gets done. But what I wanted to ask you...” I paused, and stared over at Shelby as she kicked her feet, watching the cartoon obliviously. “... is if we can take Shelby with us.”
Marcus cocked an eyebrow, unsure what to think of this. He asked simply, “Why?”
“Because,” I explained. “she needs some time away from Dan. Did you see how she got all quiet when he came home? And how she was upset? Also I'm worried that when we leave, he'll take out that crotch shot on her.” giving him my concerned face, glancing over my shoulder again at Shelby. “It wouldn't be the first time...” I added darkly.
It didn't take long for Marcus to deliberate, as he almost immediately said, “Sure. But I guess that means we can't see that R-rated movie you've been waiting for...”
R-rated what? What was he... oh.
That blush returned and felt like it extended down to my wings! That, and I'm sure my pupils shrank. “S-Shut up!” glowering at my trouble maker friend. There was no R-rated movie I was interested in, he was pulling my leg.
I know of I've said this before, but I swear he is evil.
___---***::: <o> :::***---__
It took longer than expected, but Ashley finally got everything sorted out with mother on the ideas she would like to see done. Mom must have been happy about it too, since she looked eager to get started as the four of us departed in Marcus's SUV, heading for the mall and the movies. Despite feeling rather confident, I still had some apprehension about going into public. If Ashley hadn't been equinized like me, I probably would have said outright no, too terrified to set hoof out the door. But since that wasn't the case, everything felt pretty good.
Getting there was quite the challenge though. Just like Mom had mentioned earlier, there was practically a car crash at every intersection. Detours here, detour there, reroute here and everywhere! It was starting to wear on Marcus, the frustration building by granules in the usually calm African American. Fairly soon, we were a little lost, all three of us trying to figure out where the hell we were and which direction we needed to go. I nearly facehooved when I remembered that my smart phone had GPS, so we pulled over and I handed (would that be hoofed?) over the phone to him, describing where the program was.
With the automated voice of the GPS guiding us back to the light, everything calmed down significantly. The constantly updating traffic watch kept us clear of all the crash sites. I counted them as we passed. Before too long the number jumped into the double digits, quickly becoming dozens and scores. Most were just minor fender benders, unlikely to so much as break a nail; but others looked exceedingly bad. Cars so indented that they looked like some monster had taken a massive chomp out of the side, other cars were squished almost in half by the forces at play, and there was even one multi-car pile up. I grimaced at the possible number of dead and/or injured. And this was all over the country? Or even better, the world? Needless to say, I stopped counting.
I decided we needed more information, and switched on the radio. There was no way this wasn't going to be top line news for days at least.
“... and now for some updates!” the radio broadcaster announced. Good, if I heard him say 'music' I probably would have screamed. “It seems like these freaky pony things have popped up everywhere. From Las Angeles to New York, Seattle to Tallahassee, they are everywhere.” I didn't like this guy's tone on how he was presenting the situation. He was making it out like it was our fault. “Initial estimates place the transformed at twelve percent... minimum. Some sources claim that it's as high as twenty five, but honestly I find that hard to believe.
“And if that's not food for thought, what about the economy?” that was a good point. I perked my ears to listen, and Ashley poked her head between the seats to listen further. “Many of the ponified, yes that's right, they're ponies, like from that little girl's show...” facehoof. “... have been let go from their jobs as they are unable to perform. As a result, everything everywhere is understaffed. Many are protesting the actions, feeling like they weren't even given a chance to try and keep their jobs, calling it 'discriminatory' and other such nonsense...” I bristled, how is that 'nonsense'? I really didn't like this guy. For a moment I wondered if CNN had forced that pony anchor – mare – to quit. Somehow I doubted they would fire her. Being transformed like that didn't seem to impair her ability to speak, and that's all broadcasters do is talk, occasionally shuffling papers.
“Although I cannot imagine why,” the radioman continued. “there are some employers whom are giving the freaks a chance.” okay, so some people aren't being completely heartless. That's good. Now if only this guy would stop being such a prick. I contemplated retrieving my phone and calling the station, demanding to know how this guy could be so negative about this, but decided to ultimately let it drop. He wasn't worth the effort.
“And most aren't even normal ponies, as if that were a plus,” that tone was eating at me, I could feel it. “there seems to be three, even four, different kinds. Some of them have wings, called 'pegasi', and others have, get this, horns on their heads.” Ashley shied away from the radio, sitting back in her seat. “They're called 'unicorns'. Good luck fitting in freaks.” I could have sworn smoke was exiting my ears as I willed the radio to explode in his face.
“That's it!” I fumed, punching the power on/off button a little harder than I should have. “There's got to be a regulation or law or something against talking like that over national radio!” my chest heaved, snorting through my nostrils.
“That guy is just a big meanie pants,” Shelby added in, pouting in her seat. “he shouldn't be so mean.” I smiled at her, completely agreeing.
I glanced over at Ashley, whom was just staring absent-mindedly outside the car window. I thought about saying something to try and comfort her, but what could I say that would help? The damned radio had just announced to the world that she was a freak! Literally! Actually, me too matter of fact, but right now I was too mad to care. But poor Ash looked like she might break down in tears.
Marcus focused on driving, trying his best to keep us out of the casualty listing, but even so his face for an intense grimace. Hopefully, the radioman's words wouldn't poison people's minds too much. The world had enough racism and problems before this, it didn't need anymore.
Of course, the hell did I know? People flock to idiots like him on the radio, as though they were allowing themselves to get poisoned. I gritted my teeth, thinking about the future while staring at the anomalous lightning-bolt shaped thing in the sky. Things couldn't possibly get worse, right? But even as I thought that thought, I must have contracted some of Dan's cynicism. For as I sat in my seat, still fuming over the recent announcements, I thought: people are stupid.
Arrugh! Suddenly I felt like I needed a drink.
The car trip didn't last much longer, but it went on in silence. We got lucky and managed to get a parking spot near the front entrance to the food court. Already I could smell the plethora of food coming from the doors and the nearby pub restaurant. And now my stomach decided to speak up, demanding sustenance. Marcus helped Ashley and Shelby out of the SUV, while I had a little practice and confidence at just jumping out; again successfully landing on all four hooves, even if it was a little jarring. I bet I could use my wings as a form of parachute to soften the landing. Have to remember that for next time.
We were maybe in the parking lot for possibly two minutes before we saw another soul in the sea of cars parked in the sun, their owners clustered somewhere inside the mall doing who knows what. A couple of teenagers looked in our direction, and just stared. They were too far away to pick out the features specifically, but I had a feeling it wasn't anything good.
Great, I thought, rolling my eyes. Here for less than five minutes, and already garnering stares. Absolutely wonderful.
The mall that my friends and I frequented was practically empty. Sure, there were still dozens upon dozens of people around, bustling around the stores and stalls, going about their business. The huge cavern of a room that encompassed the food court, and the front door to the movie theater, made those crowds seem small and sparse. Which was pretty odd, considering it was mid-November, and everyone should be shopping for the holidays. Truthfully, I was glad that there weren't hordes of people; it would mean less stares.
I was kind of hoping that there'd be more ponified people here. If for nothing else than to make the situation less... awkward. As it was, it seemed Ashley and I were the only ones... immediately visible anyways. Perhaps there were more further inside.
I was also glad that the chaos of what was happening hadn't affected the restaurants being open. At least some of the employees showed up for work.
Yay!
I liked this mall. It had lots of stores, a theater, etcetera; but the best part was the food court. It had so many dang choices! Sub sandwiches, fries and burgers, to Mexican and Chinese dishes. Just about anything for everything for every possible taste bud. And that made it a certain percentage cooler for it. The plethora of smells crossed my muzzle...
...and oddly, some of it made me sick.
Not literally, but the wave of nausea that followed was confoundedly horrible; and very confusing. I've been here dozens of times, probably hundreds, and never had this kind of problem. In fact, I had eaten at every single one of these fast food joints at least a couple of times; even the oriental place, despite my not being crazy about Chinese food. That, and I felt this sensation earlier when Marcus had raided my fridge for food, a tub of chicken fried rice.
I glanced over at Ashley, and noted the slight green that permeated her gray face. She must have been feeling the same nausea I was. Marcus looked unchanged, and hadn't yet noticed our queasiness; and Shelby was looking this way and that at the stores, even eying a nearby toy shop (three guesses why). If not for my loudly protesting stomach, I would have suggested skipping lunch.
“You two okay?” Aaand now he did.
“Ugh,” I said, groaning and lowering my head, as if doing so would put my nose underneath the stench. “I don't know...”
“I feel it too...” Ashley chimed in, covering her nose with a hoof. A method I already knew to be futile. “It's odd though,” she continued. “the place doesn't smell any different... yet... I get the feeling like I'm sniffing a garbage can. Ugh!” the unicorn groaned, rearing her head in disgust.
I had the same sentiment, “Well, let's try to at least find something to eat.” Surely there must be something here that was edible.
The three of us spread out in different directions, with Shelby tagging along with the remaining human, but not before getting our money from Marcus; whom was in charge of my wallet and Ashley's purse, since we couldn't really carry or sift through the contents. I asked for a ten, not really planning on stuffing my face with much more than that, holding the folded bill in a wingtip. Again the appendage's flexibility and dexterity surprised me. Clasping the tiny paper almost, but not quite, like fingers. For one, the feathers (while articulate) didn't have any sensation of feeling like digits did. My eye twitched, and I couldn't help but think my wings were pretty weird now.
To avoid drawing attention, I folded the wing back down, swallowing the ten from sight.
Trotting from restaurant to restaurant, I weighed my options while trying to pin down the reason behind the mysterious sickening. I walked by one of the Chinese places, the smell of orange chicken, steaming rice and fried beef assaulting me. I gagged, quickly walking away before chunks started flying. Catching what breath I could, I headed for another option. A popular fast food joint that was found as commonplace as Starbucks; MacDonald's.
Again I was nearly knocked out of my socks by the horrid, fetid stench. Oh wait, not wearing any... derp, followed by a hoof to the face. That place was never my favorite, but there wasn't anything on the menu that could make me sick. So why was this happening? Standing as straight as I could, I glanced over the counter and observed the kitchen, trying to be as stealthy as can be. As far as I could tell, there was nothing abnormal or weird going on; the two employees both working. One was manning the register, attending to a customer while the other was flipping patties on a flat top.
My eyes locked on the sizzling brown discs, and my vision doubled. Suddenly their odor wafted up my snout like a fly on a mission in an outhouse. I nearly fell as my legs went rubbery, barely catching myself. The scent even felt like it was burning my nostrils!
Ugh...
Again, recoiling, I backed away from the scene. Okay. Roasted chicken, fried beef, and hamburger patties all gave me a case of the green face. But was it meat or processed stuff? Fried or baked? It could have been a dozen different things, and I had to learn more. This time I visited a restaurant of very different caliber: Subway. In fast food terms, it was as organic as it could get. They put exactly what you wanted on it, and did it right in front of you. As far as I could tell, there wasn't any time or room for shenanigans; not like with frozen patties or chicken.
My hunger redoubled when I approached, and... was it just me or did the lettuce, tomatoes and other sliced, fresh vegetables look... exceptionally good? I blinked, not sure what to make of this sudden interest... no, obsession... with the eye-poppingly vivid greens. I trotted a bit closer, and while the smell was slightly overpowered by the other restaurants, it was still clearly palpable. No nausea appeared, my stomach didn't lurch (in fact it growled), and there was simply no sign of any illness whatsoever. Basically, I felt now how I should have been feeling the whole time.
Although the sliced meats garnered a form of nausea, it was magnitudes smaller, since they were cold cuts and not actively cooking. Thus easily ignorable.
I blinked again, frowning and cocking an eyebrow. Weird didn't begin to explain it. Having one more suspicion, I trotted away towards the restaurant I frequented the most. It was an off-brand Italian place that served mainly pizza and pasta, but also had meat dishes, like lasagna, and chicken parmesan. The scent of melted cheese and baked bread wafted up my nose, with only a slight hint of meat. In truth, the herbs and seasonings pretty much dominated the scape of the smells in the vicinity.
Hmm, okay. I reared up on the glass and took a closer peak at the buffet of food. Eying each dish, I examined my body's reactions to each. The salad trays, as suspected, garnered the same hungry reaction from Subway. The pizzas with vegetable or no toppings had the same result, as well as pastas and sauces. The lasagna and spaghetti was another matter, making my stomach lurch once more.
So then, I though to myself. It's meat? Meat makes me react like that? I huffed, not liking this train of thought. So unfair...
As I was lamenting the fact that I may have to become vegetarian (groan), a cough caught my attention. I looked up, and a round service woman wearing a black employee apron, with the restaurant's logo stenciled on the chest, staring at me. She blinked several times as she stood there, frozen.
I gazed back, and so did she. The woman, probably in her mid-twenties, was someone I was partially acquainted to, because I was a frequent customer. Still didn't know her name, but we recognized each other; when I was human anyways. The stare down must have gone on for a few minutes, as I caught a small crowd of people joining in to look at the orange pegasus pony at the pizza place in my peripheral vision. Well, best break the ice... I still had a stomach to satiate!
“Uh,” I said, and she almost jumped when I spoke. “I'd like a slice of cheese pizza and a soda...” I gave my order, and added, “please?” trying to smile, but not awkwardly so. Probably failed hard at that.
After a moment, she snapped out of her trance and placed one cardboard thin slice of cheesy heaven into the oven to reheat. I moved down to the register while she readied the soda, unfolding my left wing to get the ten ready. My ear tingled, and I took a glance around while waiting for my order.
More people, a lot more, had gathered in the proximity of the restaurant I was getting food from. I blushed, feeling my pointed ears mash against my skull. Even my tail pressed on my behind a bit. I felt like those dozens of pairs of eyes pressing in on me, an ease of claustrophobia encroaching on my mind, and a sweat broke across my brow. Damn it body! Stop it!
“What?” The cashier woman spoke up, speaking loudly enough for the crowd to hear. “Never seen anyone order plain cheese before?” she challenged, and I snapped out of my stage fright to look at her. She seemed annoyed, not liking what was going on at all. I furtively glanced back at the crowd, and the people began to disperse, slowly but surely. Still, many others stared at me, heedless of the service woman's words. Eventually though, they too went back to their business, occasionally returning that gaze to me.
“Some people...” the cashier said, shaking her head ruefully. “will that be all ma'am?” Twitch. How does everyone keep doing that!?
“Er, yeah...” I said. “thanks for um... that...” I gestured a hoof towards the area where the crowd once occupied. I unfolded my wing when she announced the total. She hesitated on taking the money when she realized it was a feathery wing 'handing' the bill to her, but quickly recovered.
Working the buttons, she said plainly, “Eh, no problem...” then she looked at me kind of strange. “you seem oddly... familiar.”
“Uh...” I said, glancing around the room a bit nervously. “I, er, came here numerous times before. I always ordered the same thing...” I shrugged.
“Oh!” She smacked a palm on her forehead. “Plain cheese and a soda, sometimes gets baked ziti and marinara, duh!” she laughed. “Now I recognize you.”
I smiled at that. It was nice to know that some people were not behaving all weird and rude at the sight of me. That initial shock doesn't really count, but what does is how people act after that same shock had worn off. And, I squinted at the name tag, Tina it read, had passed with flying colors.
“Wait a minute...” she squinted at me, processing something within her brain. “If you are, who I think you are, why does your voice... sound... like...” slowly she trailed off, and her eyes widened again.
She blushed, the facts donning on her. I blushed, and turned my eyes another direction. “Yeah, let's let that drop. Right there.” I said flatly, embarrassment thick. She stared for a moment longer, then it must have occurred to Tina that she was being just as rude as the crowd she had scolded earlier, then found a task to occupy her attention. Okay, so maybe not flying colors, but she made a good effort.
“So, am I the first you've seen?” I asked as she busied herself with a fresh pizza, desiring conversation to distract my thoughts.
“Eh, yeah actually.” Tina responded, acting as though the previous discussion never happened. Not surprising, my guess being that most ponified people were likely staying home or were somewhere else seeking help or something. “So, what are you?”
I balked, feeling like I was a little insulted... and actually was.
My expression must have been obvious (because I let it), as her eyes widened a bit, and she quickly amended, “No, what I mean is, you're not a regular horse.” and she gestured at my wings.
“Pegasus,” I stated simply, relieved that she didn't mean what I thought she meant. That would have been... bad.
“Makes sense,” Tina shrugged. “and so that one is a...” she paused, wrinkling her nose. I followed her eyes, and saw Ashley a little ways down. She was looking back and forth between the Subway and another restaurant whose sign was obscured from me.
“Unicorn,” I said. “see the horn?” gesturing with a hoof.
She paused visibly, then a small smile creased her lips, “Neat.”
Another few seconds and Tina pulled the pizza slice from the oven, delicious steam now pouring from the top; my mouth watered at the sight. She handed me the bill change, and I gave her back half as a tip and a thank you for helping with that crowd. Initially she tried to downplay that kind act and hand me the money, but I insisted.
Tina presented me with the tray, setting it on the counter.
I stared at the red plastic, not sure how to approach my latest conundrum. I could try and use my wings, just like how I 'grasped' the cup at Ashley's, but were they strong enough to handle the weight? I wasn't sure, and didn't want to make a mess. Tina cocked an eyebrow at me, I guessed I had been staring at the tray for some time, and she asked if everything was okay. I nodded, explaining that I was just trying to figure out how to pick up the rectangle that held my food.
“Why don't you use your mouth?” Tina suggested.
Wow, that was... actually a pretty good idea. I smiled and she nudged the tray slightly over the edge. “Thanks, hehe.” I chomped down on the slightly curved edge, nearly toppling the half that held the soda, evening it out before the beverage could tilt too much.
Phew.
Slowly I pivoted around, my jaw was already locking up due to the unaccustomed weight, eager to search for a seat. There was certainly no shortage of choices. Booths, tables with chairs and hybrids in between (tables that had one side with a couch like bench and the other side chairs). I saw one empty four seat booth that looked inviting, and started (carefully) trotting towards it...
...when it was snagged by some teenager wearing a decent amount of black denim attire.
Oh, well okay then, I thought, thinking nothing of it. There's plenty of other seats.
Looking around the court once more, I headed for one of the couch/chair hybrids. Once I sat down I would wave over Ash and Marcus...
My thoughts were interrupted when another young person, this one lacking a jacket, but looked very similar to the previous teen in black. I nearly lost balance when he rushed by and snatched up the seat. By some miracle the soda stayed perched on the tray, and I waited for my heart rate to decline from the surprise.
I righted myself and turned my attention to the punk that nearly shoved me to the ground to grab the table. He wore a contemptuous smirk on his face and tried to look at me out of the corners of his eyes, half-trying not to be noticed. I glanced back at the first guy, whom I paid no attention to at first, and he wore a similar expression; watching me 'discreetly'.
Oookie dokie then... I thought, cocking an eyebrow in his direction, not sure what was going on. Yet, I had an idea and I did not like it one bit.
Something fishy is going on here. There were plenty of seats to choose from, but that seemed to be beside the point. I doubted that it was coincidence that both of them were going for the same sitting spots I was. Especially since they were dressed similarly, like they thought they were in a gang or something. Most likely they were just some punks that thought it was cool. For a moment I wondered if they were associated with my younger brother. It would make a crazy kind of sense.
The fiery ache in my jaw steered my attention back to the matter at ha – hoof (still not used to this); I needed to find a seat and set this heavy tray down!
Maybe it was time for a test. This time I headed for a relatively remote table, switching my eyes between the two thieves from before. Just as I suspected, they followed me with their gaze, now no longer attempting to hide the contemptuous smirks on their faces. Uh huh, they were screwing with me, and apparently didn't like a pony being in, probably what they perceived as, their mall.
A third figure, similar in clothing but perhaps a head shorter, darted around a corner and snagged the seat I was heading for as I got close. I huffed around the plastic tray in my mouth and bristled, feeling my feathers ruffle. This was ridiculous! What's the point in doing that? I wanted to believe that they simply played that little prank on everyone, that it was just a bit of fun, and that I wasn't a 'special circumstance', but something just nagged otherwise at me as the anger built in my face.
Ugh, I thought, utterly annoyed; which was quickly building to outrage. I really, really, hoped this was just a passing thing and not something that was going to be permanent and on a daily basis. No amount of awesomeness garnered by flying would alleviate dealing with this kind of stuff constantly...
Still having some patience, I decided to try one last time for a table. After that... well I didn't really know what.
This table was another of the bench and chair hybrids, and seemed to be the closest to me while having a decent bit of distance from the trio of troublemakers. I knew I could beat those punks to the table, if I didn't have a tray of food to balance in my mouth. After all, I had four legs and they only had two (legs I was quickly becoming adept at using). This time I kept my ears at attention, listening for the tell tale sounds of movement, and was rewarded by hearing the sound of a chair screech as it was scooted back in a hurry. The first punk was making his way quickly to the bench/chair table, and I was about to pick up my pace. Even so he arrived well before I did...
When Marcus slid into the bench right as the punk was about to sit down, causing him to stagger.
“Sorry,” he said half-apologetically. I imagined that he had been observing the whole shenanigan. “seat's taken bro.” he added casually with a smirk. After that he waved me over, and Ashley trotted up with a blue tray in her mouth, followed by Shelby.
I tried to smile around the tray, which proved difficult, trotting over to the table and finally setting down the heavy thing. My jaw sighed in relief. I had never before appreciated just how much a large soda weighed before now! That and just how much I missed my fingers.
I climbed into the chair as Shelby joined next to me, Marcus and Ashley sat on the bench half across from us. It took me a moment to realize the punk was still standing there, dumbstruck by the foiling of their little game. Luckily his comrades had, for whatever reason, decided not to join in – yet.
“Wait, you're hanging out with these freaks?” he waved a jacketed hand at the two ponies sitting with the pair of humans. Ashley and I glared at him, but he paid us no mind, focusing on the African American. Marcus paused, just inches from taking the first bite of a triple decker burger.
“Problem?” Marcus smiled, and added with a slight tone of annoyance. “Bro?”
“No, but there's going to be.” the punk threatened, and I saw his friends exit their seats. As they drew closer, the punk spat out an insult that made my ears burn and my jaw drop. A certain insult that pertained to Marcus and only Marcus. How dare he!? Instinctively I turned towards Shelby and ordered her to cover her ears. Thankfully the little girl obeyed without question, realizing the tension of the situation.
I knew that cupping her ears would do little, but I'll be damned if I let her innocence be ruined at the mall by a group of punks. Sure, innocence didn't last forever. Not in this world, but again, I'm going to make sure Shelby kept it as long as time allowed.
Now I was about to put this jerk in his place – when my chair suddenly lurched half an inch. I whipped around to stare at Marcus, and he was still smiling. How can he be okay with this!?
By now the other two had closed the distance and stood with their asshole of a friend. By the way they were standing, I assumed he was the defacto leader. Marcus had that look on his face; the one in his eyes that said 'I am not amused'... but with a smile on it. It confused the hell out of me. How could he be okay with what this guy was calling him? From what I was taught, that word was one of the worst things you could call someone like Marcus.
“Well, if there is a problem,” Marcus started, speaking slowly but evenly. “you can take it up with my complaint department. Here's what you do. Write it on a napkin, take it to the bathroom and leave it in one of the porcelain bowls.” he smirked, and added finally, “And I'll get to it when I give a crap.”
Oh, you just got told! I portrayed a sly smile. Marcus caught my stare, and winked at me. For some odd reason that made me blush. Ashley snickered, but at what I couldn't tell. I hoped it was the man's snarky comment and not the unreasonable emotions I was displaying.
I glanced back at the punk, and oh he was blistering. I guessed he never had anyone bold enough to tell him off before, as he seethed with barely controlled rage. He looked down at me with murder in his eyes. Inwardly I balked a bit, but kept up a steely glare on the outside. Yes I was intimidated, but I sure as hell wasn't going to let him know that.
“Is there a problem here?” A new, deep and gruff voice stated with authority. All of us turned to see a large, balding man with a mustache and a long sleeved white shirt that bore the golden badge of a police officer – no, wait, not a policeman, but a mall security guard. He had his massive arms crossed as his iron gaze switched from person to person – and pony – with his stare lingering on Ashley and I. However, as those eyes landed on the equines, they didn't change; after a moment he entered into a stare down with leader punk.
“No sir,” Marcus replied cheerily.
“No,” the punk huffed.
“Uh huh,” the mall cop sounded unconvinced with both of them. Then cocked an eyebrow at the kid, “I heard the whole exchange,” he revealed. Really? How? I could barely hear anything over the background noise throughout the food court. Maybe working in this area day in and day out made him immune. “and I saw what you were doing.”
Punk's eyes widened and my grin grew. He'd actually seen their little shenanigans with the tables! Yes! I take back everything I've ever said about cops being lazy and never being there when they were needed!
“I... that was... we were just...” he stammered, trying to come up with some excuse. Mall cop huffed and held up a meaty palm to stop him, not taking any of his crap.
“You were disrupting patrons of this mall,” he said flatly, yet with a surprising amount authority as he listed off their crimes. “causing a scene, and picking a fight. I'm going to have to ask you and your friends to exit the mall.” he finished.
At that moment a couple more figures in similar uniforms approached, younger and slimmer officers who looked ready for a confrontation. It donned on me that maybe the bigger cop had called for back up. Smart. Obviously he was a veteran of dealing with stuff just like this.
Punk and his friends looked mad, but they shrank under the array of authority that now faced them. They gave a last look at the four of us, still seated at the table, and slowly departed. None of us spoke as we watched the three walk away and exit through the doors. Super size mall cop sighed, and dismissed his fellow officers, whom resumed their previous duties, and then turned to us with a hint of a smile.
“Apologies for that folks,” he said, placing his hands on his wide hips.
“Not a problem officer.” Marcus replied nonchalantly.
He glanced over us, even the ponies, with expression unchanged. “You lot frequent here?” he asked.
Marcus and I nodded in response.
Mall cop nodded a few times and took out a notepad and pen. He jotted something down and handed it to my friend, explaining. “I work morning to late afternoon shift. That, is my cell number. If you all ever have problems again – especially with those three – give me a call or text, and I'll come running.” he finished with his generous offer, and added, “Name's Paul Blonk, Mall Cop.”
That name rang a strange bell with me, and I had to ask. “I feel like I know you.”
He stared at me again, “Oh? That right?” he paused, and I got the feeling like he wanted to say the same, but... yeah.
“I come here often for midnight launches.”
“Oh I see,” he said after a moment. “one of the gamers eh? Which one, if ya don't mind me asking? I'm familiar with most of the regulars since usually I volunteer, or get volunteered, for those shifts.”
“Sam,” I replied.
Paul mulled that around in his head a moment, then smiled. “Ah, I see.” then his face scrunched in confusion. “Wait a minute... I thought Sam was a...” he trailed off when I stared flatly at him, my ears pasted back.
“Oh, uh...” he coughed awkwardly. “well, you folks enjoy your meal, and have fun...” and with that he quickly walked away to patrol the halls.
Ugh, I groaned, the other snickered at my expense. It just gets better and better...
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
The four of us sat, enjoying our meal. That seemed to be a chore in and of itself. Sipping the soda was made easy thanks to the straw, but the slice of pizza was another story. They didn't call it finger food for nothing. That, and I didn't really want to handle the food with what was essentially my feet. I'm no neat freak or germaphobe, but even I knew that would have been unsanitary.
I was okay with touching the paper plate with my hooves, manipulating it to point the edge of the slice towards one side, and using my muzzle to nudge the slice over a bit. Once the tip was sufficiently exposed, I bent down and bit off the end, chewing the cheesy goodness. The process was fairly slow, every couple of bites I would have to stop and maneuver again until the slice got wider to allow more chomps.
Unfortunately for Ashley, she wasn't able to mimic these movements, and stared at the six inch sub sandwich and plastic bowl containing a salad. Attempting to copy my moves had limited success with the sandwich, but the salad still defied her. She stared at it, frustrated, probably wishing for the return of her fingers as I had been doing all damned day.
“You can use telekinesis,” Marcus suggested after downing the latest chomp of his burger. I groaned silently. How can he eat that!? I paused as I realized that that was the vegetarian pony speaking, recalling that I too once enjoyed the same food. Arrugh!
“Hey, yeah!” Shelby chimed in, grinning widely. She seemed excited at the prospect of finally seeing some true blue magic. I was still skeptical though.
Ashley jerked out of her trance to stare at Marcus, “I don't know if I can...”
“Just try,” I encouraged. While I still had doubts, I had to admit that I was curious as well. “surely it can't be that hard can it?” I smiled, gesturing with a hoof.
Marcus and Shelby seemed unsure. I asked why, trying to make a point that that one unicorn in the show was able to perform all kinds of tricks, like teleporting and levitating items many times her weight and/or size.
“Uh yeah,” Shelby said uneasily. “Twilight went to a school to learn that stuff. And before that she studied magic in books... a lot.” Oh, that made sense. “And she was Celestia's student...” Celestia who? I didn't pay that much attention to the show. What little I did was focused on the pegasi and not... whoever Celestia was. I asked who that was, and both Shelby and Marcus face palmed.
Okay, I expected that from Shelby, but Marcus? Again, was this something I wanted to know?
“She's the ruler of Equestria,” Shelby intervened. When I stared blankly at her, she huffed and added. “the land where they all live? Duh.” rolling her eyes.
“Okay, well, anyways,” Marcus turned his attention to Ashley as Shelby started to give me a lesson in girl cartoon history – help! I could feel the anesthesia in my brain. “focus on feeling the horn on your head.”
Ashley nodded and squinted her eyes shut to better concentrate.
“Now, imagine the fork,” the man said, and I got the impression that he was giving an art lesson. “every point, every curve. Imagine what it feels like, what it weighs. Picture it in your mind as though you were looking at it with your own eyes.”
The unicorn grimaced, concentrating on developing the image. Once or twice she peaked at the plastic utensil, garnering more details from it.
“Okay,” Marcus continued his Zen-like instructions as I chomped down on the pizza some more, interest growing. “now imagine that you are 'wrapping' the fork in a napkin.”
With that, Ashley's forehead broke out into a sweat. She held a breath, cheeks puffing out, and her brows furrowed further and – was that a spark!? Suddenly nothing else mattered and I stared intensely at the horn's tip, determined to catch that detail a second time should it re-appear.
There it was again! A small spark, not much larger than a crumb, that fizzled out from the very tip, lasting for only a split second. And was it just me, or did it seem slightly... glittery? Okay.
“Hmmm,” Marcus pondered the next step, and I pondered how he knew to provide such instruction. “maybe imagine that you are holding it in your hand.”
“I'm...” Ashley winced, her voice straining. “trying...”
The unicorn's face began to change colors from the effort, her teeth grit and small gray body trembling. It appeared that nothing was happening, as the fork still sat serenely on the plastic tray. Then I glanced up from the still fork, and I thought something in my pizza was undercooked, as I caught the slightest yellow glow surrounding Ashley's horn.
My jaw dropped when the small light also enveloped the fork. Everything in my mind screamed at me that this was impossible, yet it was undoubtedly happening right in front of me! I glanced at Shelby, and her reaction couldn't have been more opposite of mine. She was beaming, staring in awe at the display as though she were observing a talented magician – which in a way she was.
“Good!” Marcus spoke up. “Now, imagine that you are picking it up... slowly, carefully.”
I gawked as the small plastic utensil lifted slightly off the table. It was only a few centimeters, but it had definitely left the tray, defying gravity and every rule of physics that I only partially paid attention to in high school. This was beyond amazing, beyond belief! She was doing it! First time ever and she was levitating a fork! Never before had I ever been so interested in a ubiquitous utensil than right now.
In mid air, the fork began to tremble.
“Agh!” Ashley panted, the strain evidently becoming too much. Around her horn there was an explosion followed by a hissing pop. The yellow glow around her forehead, and the fork, dissipated immediately; the plastic utensil clattering down on the tray – falling a mere distance of two inches.
Thud.
I tore my gaze away from the now not-interesting fork. Ashley had collapsed her head onto the tray, breathing rapidly like she'd just galloped ten miles. Her tongue even lulled out as her eyes appeared glazed over. From her horn there was the slightest trail of something that looked like steam, or cigarette smoke.
“Ashley?” I said, rearing up with my hooves on the table. “Ashley!” I shouted again, leaning closer to her face. She didn't respond. My blood ran cold and my ears pointed back, nervous sweat accumulated on my own brow. Oh my god, was she hurt!? I knew she wasn't dead, her body still heaved from her breathing. Worry etched across my face and permeated every corner of my mind, numerous possibilities raced in my thoughts at what had potentially happened; I thought maybe she had gone comatose or something. I repeated her name once more...
...and was rewarded by her eyes squinting shut, acknowledging my attention. “Do... you mind... keeping your... voice down?” Ashley said between pants. I sighed with relief, collapsing back down into my chair. She'd be okay, or at least as far as I could tell.
“That was – ” Shelby shouted, then when Ashley winced, she adjusted that to a whisper. “That was so awesome! You almost had it!”
“Indeed,” Marcus said smugly, crossing his arms. “just need to practice is all. Develop your... magic muscles.” he quoted with his fingers.
“Magic feels like a hangover...” Ashley deadpanned, I imagined her head must have been throbbing intensely. Her breathing had slowed significantly, but didn't appear to have the strength to lift her head up yet. She adjusted her head and stared longingly at the salad, and then I heard the loudest stomach growl ever, which made me jump. Apparently magic was also greatly exhausting.
Frowning, I tried to think of something to do to help. Anything for her...
I reached over to Ashley's tray and snatched up the fork with a wingtip. I poked at the salad, impaling a bites worth, and floated it to her muzzle. She stared at it, and then at me, and smiled warmly. “Thank you,” and bit down on the green food.
“Anytime,” I smiled back, my heart fluttering. Damn me if that blush appears!
Thankfully it didn't rear its ugly head... on my head. Ugh.
The male human and I exchanged seats, so I could better finish feeding Ashley her salad, Marcus cutting up the sub sandwich into smaller, bite-sized portions. Even Shelby helped, standing by with the straw of the unicorn's drink, directing the tube to the tired mare's mouth when requested.
“Oh,” Ashley distressed. “I feel like an infant...”
I stared at her and cocked an eyebrow, Marcus doing the same.
“There's no shame in accepting help when you need it,” Marcus said comfortingly. Shelby and I simultaneously nodded in agreement. Despite this, it didn't appear to make her feel much better, as she stared at the tray beneath. I couldn't help but think the same way. Losing one's independence is, well, it sucks. I don't know what'd I would do if I lost the apartment and had to move back in with the folks... especially now. Of course this was no where near the same thing, but the principle was similar enough.
Random and only semi-related thoughts aside, the food seemed to be rapidly recovering Ashley's strength. With effort, she managed to sit up straight, staring at the now used fork.
“I know it must only weigh an ounce or two,” she stated, staring at the small utensil. “but I swear it felt like it weighed as much as a boxcar.”
“Don't worry about it,” I spoke up. “like Marcus said, you just need to practice.” I was still very impressed with what little she was able to do. The possibilities with just telekinesis alone were mind boggling. In a way, she now has something that could potentially surpass fingers by a long shot. Again, if half the stuff from that kid show was true, Ashley might be able to pull off absolutely incredible things! If I didn't have these wings, I would have felt extremely jealous. Okay, maybe I still felt jealous... just a little.
We all sat there for several minutes longer to give Ashley more time to recover. When she felt confident enough to walk without collapsing on the floor, we headed off towards the movie theater. The whole time Ashley and I garnered stares from people as we made our way to the counter, but at this point I started to not care. Well, that wasn't completely true, and not for the reason I was a pony.
Even with the promise of rapid clothing delivery, it was still a few days away... at least. And of course here and now is what mattered, and here and now I was essentially naked. I sighed, and decided to just try not thinking about it. It proved more difficult than it sounded, every breeze by my fur coat gave me a little bit of the shivers. In the desert we don't have much of a winter, and the mall had the air condition going. Hmm, that may be one advantage, would be easier to stay warm... or I could die during the summer months... ugh. Not looking forward to that.
“So,” Marcus spoke up as we stood just outside the queuing line. “what shall we see?”
The movie board held several dozen titles on it, showing off up to five different show times for each entry. I gazed at the selection, and honestly, didn't see anything I was crazy to watch. For whatever reason this holiday season just didn't have anything good out this year. So I voiced that I didn't really care what we saw. We would have to see something kid appropriate, since Shelby would be with us, but there didn't seem to be much of anything rated above PG-13 (true Shelby wasn't thirteen yet, but usually such movies had something of an overblown rating anyways). The MPAA, in my opinion, was too sensitive when it came to age ratings.
“What about 'The Hobbit'?” Shelby suggested, still finishing up her soda.
That kind of surprised me. Mom and Dad let her watch Lord of the Rings? Undoubtedly puppy eyes must have been involved when she initially asked. But then again, I'd seen Lord of the Rings and they didn't have anything beyond some gore and fantasy violence, so I could (maybe) see them allowing my little sister to see it. I chuckled as I thought about how many times I had snuck out, defying the parental laws. Living close to a movie rental store allowed me to easily smuggle less-than-age-appropriate titles when I was younger.
I listened, and no one seemed to have any other suggestions or objections.
So with that we purchased our tickets and made our way upstairs.
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
Stairs. Right.
Why the hell didn't this mall have escalators? That would have been so much easier than trying to navigate up the individual steps with barely familiar four legs. Arrugh!
Marcus, out of kindness, had offered to carry us up the several flights. Ashley politely declined, while I stared at the human like he was crazy; I still had my dignity (despite walking around in public essentially naked).
I sighed as I looked at the first flight of maybe a dozen or so steps. Okay, I thought, trying to get my hooves to stop trembling. You can do this... you can do this, it's only stairs. Stepping up on the first step, then reached up with the opposite forehoof, landing on the one above it. And now it gets awkward. I examined my hoofing, trying to figure out which rear hoof to elevate next. Right or left? I chose left, and brought that hoof up to its left side cousin. It felt intensely awkward, like my body wasn't meant to do that or something.
Raising my left forehoof again, and placed it another step up; aaand now I was unceremoniously stretched on the flight. Why was this so hard! I groaned, realizing I forgot all about the fourth leg, which was still perched on the ground level. Yeah, it would help to move that one too. After maybe a moment, I tentatively got the pattern down.
Chancing a look around, I saw Marcus and my little sister waiting (semi) patiently at the top of the first flight of three. Turning, I went to see how Ashley was fairing, and expected her to be at the bottom still – but was surprised when she trotted right past me! Apparently, for some cheating reason, this was a lot easier for her as she ascended each step at a reasonable pace. Even though it was a moderate climb, my friend left me in the dust.
Damn it! I clenched my teeth. It felt like a challenge. And I didn't like to lose! Of course it wasn't a race, but even so...
Wait a minute... I paused, the sudden thought occurring to my brain. Why don't I just fly up? I don't have these wings for just show after all. That manic grin reappearing on my muzzle.
First of all, I checked the clearance between the floor and the ceiling – the last thing I wanted was to kamikaze right into the roof. Second, I scanned the top of the stairs; since the mall, and by default the theater as well, wasn't busy, there weren't very many patrons exiting at the moment. Again, I wanted to avoid crashing right into some poor chump that was just trying to leave for the day. That would be bad news bears right there. Briefly I recalled Shelby's linebacker tackle back at the parent's home. Although I doubted that my small pegasus body would have much of an impact on a full grown human, unlike the nine year old girl versus pony.
Unfolding the wings, I evened myself out on the stairs best I could, straightening for take off. Okay, now to flap. I conjured up every mental image of birds I could from my mind, as well as the brief show time of the pegasi from the kid's show. Slowly, I worked the wings several times, just to work out the motions. The first time I did this, it was in a fit of rage at Dan for... whatever he'd said back home, but I still remembered the way it felt.
Once more I closed my eyes to better concentrate on the task at hoof, but not before checking one last time that the coast was clear. Satisfied, I blinded myself to the world.
Tensing, the wings moved up and down. Letting them curl upwards into the air, before going taught as they thrust back down towards the ground, gaining speed and momentum; the tips of the feathers were felt brushing the standardized carpet of the stairs. No altitude was gained yet, and I intensified my flapping. An artificial wind was blowing weakly across my coat, and pressure began to subside from my hooves. The slight noise associated with flapping was now softly playing in my eardrums, escalated with my efforts. Yet, I still hadn't left the ground.
With each rapid cycle of the wings, that same burning sensation from before started to seep into my shoulder blades. I grit my teeth, certain that sweat must have been accumulating on my brow, not about to give up. Not yet. I still wasn't completely sure this would work; that first flight had been under impulse, rage and reflex. Would I have to repeat those same circumstances for this to work? I hoped not. Against my better judgment, which was telling me to quit now, I turned up the power some more.
This time I was rewarded with a weightless vertigo as I felt the world disappear beneath me, and gravity become nullified. Reflexively, my hooves tried to gain purchase on the ground that was no longer there. I opened my eyes to witness. Just as suspected, I now hovered just a foot above the staircase, no longer connected to the ground as everything else was.
Yes! Yes! YES!
“Haha!” I laughed out loud in my changed voice (wow, that laugh), grinning from ear to ear. I likely drew more stares from what few people that were around, but I didn't care in the slightest; I was flying!
Well, hovering technically, but that still counted in my book! I hadn't felt this kind of joy in forever. A dream had come true from something that was a freaky accident. All the depressing and confused feelings were thrown out the window at this wonderful discovery. Oh I was so glad right now to be a pegasus! Ashley can keep her horn and fancy magic shenanigans, I'll take these wings any day! Oh the possibilities. I might not even require a car anymore; especially since I couldn't see over the damned dash anyways.
While I was caught up in my reverie, some subconscious instinct took over and the wings kept me aloft while I was distracted. It took a moment for my intense panting and the growing sweat on my brow to register. Flying was still very new, and like Ashley, I would need to develop those muscles which are completely foreign and new. Which meant I would have to hurry before what strength I had left disappeared completely.
Okay, now how to go forward?
I metaphorically sat there and hovered mid air while I tried to dig up thoughts on how to proceed. Helicopters gained their forward momentum by tilting their rotors, thereby changing the direction of air flow, thrusting the vehicle forward. Perhaps the same applied to angling a pegasi's body? To confirm, I conjured up a few images from the show, and if memory served, those winged ponies used the same idea. In theory this should totally work. If not, well, then I'll have to slowly brave the mountains of stairs.
Okay, I stared forward and lowered my head, thrusting my rear up slightly, shifting my center of balance...
… and started moving forward slowly, picking up bits of speed as the seconds passed by. It was working! The higher staircases loomed up ahead, but I was somewhat ready for this problem, and further increased my flapping. As expected, my altitude grew, and colliding with the flights of stairs was no longer a problem. Within no time I was already at the top of the stairs...
… and going a lot faster than I was prepared for! I neglected to consider the brakes! Eep!
Panicking at the sudden influx of speed and height, I flailed my hooves at the wall decorated with large signs advertising various feature films yet to be released, and collided with the massive, flat form of a man wearing red armor with a gold trim, holding out a hand with a glowing circle in the center.
Oof! I grunted as I smacked the hard wall. For just a moment my body hung their, flattened against the surface in a comical manner. Slowly I felt myself peel off as gravity resumed control, and again that weightless vertigo ensnared me, except this time it was free fall. I was already feeling the exhaustion from flying up here, and didn't have the energy to try and right myself.
I expected to land hard on the carpeted floor, but instead impacted something far softer that gave way to my tiny falling body. My muscles, especially those that resided between the shoulders, ached furiously. Alight with a burning fire that could probably put an expensive grill to shame, with more of those ant-like tingling sensations spreading across the feather wings.
“Ohhhh,” I groan weakly, still splayed out on the... whatever I landed on. I opened my suddenly tired eyes, and stared. My torso and hooves were unceremoniously splayed and elevated on a dark, cloth-like form of one of the bean bag chairs that served as lobby furniture. The poster I had crashed into was advertising one of the Iron Man sequels – ironic, since Tony crashed at least once in when he first flew the suits. And here I was, flying for the first time and crashing almost immediately after.
I chuckled despite the aching pain, “Woohoo...” I said meekly. A few seconds later, two humans and a gray unicorn entered my dizzy vision.
“You okay?” the larger one with dark skin asked.
“That was so cool!” the youngest one gleefully shouted, and I cringed. My head hurt.
“Not so loud...” I whispered, feeling my brain complain. “please?”
The unicorn, sensing I was okay, just rolled her brown eyes.
“Maybe a little less crashing next time,” the unicorn suggested, smirking at me. “eh dare devil?”
I held up a hoof, intending to 'thumbs up' the pony, oblivious at the fact that I lacked thumbs. “Will do...” I groaned again and tried to sit up, pegasus body refusing. I made it up maybe an inch before collapsing back down into the beanie chair.
“I think...” I say through strained breaths. “maybe I'll take that... 'carry me' offer now...” Truth be told, I doubted I could walk right now. And besides, who needs dignity...
Shelby eagerly volunteered, waving her arms up and down enthusiastically. Marcus and Ashley chuckled as Shelby lugged me onto her shoulders. Once more I felt like a stuffed animal, and couldn't help but blush. Oh well... at least now I wouldn't be stumbling down the hallway like a derp-eyed fool, and soon enough we'd be sitting down to a nice, long movie.
Just a little longer, I told myself as I rolled my eyes. Marcus was buying snacks for himself and Shelby, while Ashley and I waited just outside the hallway that led to the theater auditoriums. I sat down on the floor, still feeling exhausted from that face-first meeting with the movie poster. The fiery burn in my shoulders had dulled down to a throbbing ache. Resting my head on my forehooves, I watched the human as he grabbed this and that.
Jeese, I thought, blinking. How can he still bethis hungry!? What's he trying to do? Buy all the food in the place? Ugh. Apparently a triple decker burger was nothing more than a snack to the dark skinned man; my stomach still lurched at the thought of the meat patties. That part sucked more than anything right now.
I really hated that realization: no more meat, no more chicken, or beef, pepperoni, everything. While I didn't really have anything against fruits and/or vegetables, there was just a void left at the thought of only being able to eat the plant food, and not the other stuff. I thought about what ifs like, maybe I could just eat the stuff anyways and maybe get accustomed to the smell making me nauseous; but there's always the other side of that coin. What if that nauseating feeling was a mere prelude to what would happen if that kind of food was ingested? For all I knew, doing so could make me sick for a whole week, wrenching my guts out every few hours or minutes for days on end; or worse, it might even be fatal.
I scoffed at that last thought, surely that was over dramatization right there on my part. Surely a pony's digestive system wasn't that different from our own. It was probable that they could eat meat, yet just never did. But even as I thought about that, I remembered one important detail. Ponies we were, sure, but not ponies from our world. Earth as we knew it did not have unicorns or pegasi. Ponies, while they were smaller than full grown horses, were not this small (that shortness again, arrugh!). And I recalled no instances if ponies eating meat in the cartoon show. Or even being mentioned, matter of fact.
I came to the conclusion that it'd be best not to even try.
Trying to distract myself from that train of thought, I glanced around the theater. My eyes landed on the myriad of signs that announced what wasn't allowed inside the theater. Typical stuff like no smoking, no outside food or drink (most likely so customers would be forced to buy their overpriced garbage), and other such signs. One such poster held my gaze, one that had a black silhouette of a dog being crossed out. An interesting thought occurred as my mind toyed with the idea of the 'no pets allowed' ad.
I imagined the manager or some theater employee waltzing up all cocky and arrogant, informing Marcus that pets were not allowed in the theater while he pointed at Ashley and myself. My eye twitched, thinking about that indignity of being referred to as a pet; it felt far more insulting than being talked about like a 'thing'. That pit formed in my stomach at the thought, hoping that that scenario never came to reality. But then again, less-likely events have happened today...
My ear twisted to a melodious voice next to me, Ashley had asked me something while I was in a trance of my own thoughts. Lifting my tired head, I looked at her with my equally droopy eyes, ceremoniously answering, “Huh?”
Ashley huffed, apparently slightly miffed that I wasn't paying attention, and repeated, “Are you okay?” that annoyed expression turned to one akin to worry. Huh, maybe I was receding into the dumps a little too far at the thoughts beforehand.
I smiled weakly, admiring Ashley's beautiful big eyes. “Yeah, I'm okay. Just... thinking.”
Ashley puffed at me, “Should not do that. You know what thinking does to you...” she teased, attempting to joke with me as she smiled – even through that grin her concern was palpable. Not very surprising, considering my proximity to a mental breakdown back at the house before Shelby came home from school. Actually, I had multiple near-insanity attacks today – all of them cut short by either Marcus, Ashley, or my little sister.
I chuckled softly, taking the prod in stride. “Heh, guess so.” I tried and failed to come up with some witty comeback, my brain just deciding to fart instead.
I rose up to a sitting position, wincing as my sore pegasus body protested. That damn wall did more than a number on me. For a moment, I wondered if the orange fur might have been concealing bruises underneath. The firm wall certainly showed no mercy.
Ashley stared into my eyes and I stared back, just holding that gaze for the longest time. Again I couldn't help but admire how cute she was even as this new unicorn thing. For some reason I especially liked those two green stripes running through her long, flowing mane. They just caught my eye like nothing else. Even though the color gray was pretty bland, it, for some reason, looked beautiful on her. The only thing that didn't really change were the way her brown eyes could just swallow me. If only...
My heart began to ache, and I fought back a sigh.
That stare was held for a while longer before Ashley's own smile waned. I was a little too distracted to realize my staring was making her uncomfortable.
“Is there a reason you're staring at me?” She asked, turning her face away from mine a little bit, but kept those eyes locked on mine.
The question snapped me out of my reverie, “Huh? What?” I blinked several times. When it dawned on me what I'd been doing, my face began to burn, ears pasting against my head again.
“Well, is everypony ready?” Marcus suddenly said from behind a sizable mound of sweets and treats in his arms; that mountain seemed bigger than it actually was since I was far shorter than him. Phew, saved by the 'bell', I thought as I stared up at him. It took me a moment to register that he said 'everypony', instead of everyone...
“Bit much,” Ashley gestured with a hoof, my gawking awkwardly at her completely forgotten (or so it seemed). “don't you think?” I couldn't help but agree as I cocked an eyebrow at him. I mean really, how much could the human eat!? That was probably enough food for several people!
“Well, you know me,” Marcus said with a sly grin. “my stomach is a black hole.”
I rolled my eyes, and was about to start suggesting he store that junk for later, when he continued, “You were so hungry after using your magic, and Sam just flew for the first time, I thought you two would need more food...” he shrugged, then added. “some calorie dense stuff will help recover your energy faster anyways.” To confirm, Shelby, a popsicle ice cream in her hand, nodded in agreement.
Just then my stomach growled with a vengeance, my ear twisted to a similar noise to my left. I facehooved, thinking about my reaction to what was just Marcus being generous – as he usually was. Of course he wouldn't buy all of that for just himself. That's another thing I'd have to repay to him later; theater snacks were not cheap.
“Hehe,” Ashley chuckled next to me. “seems so...”
With that, we headed off into the hallway that lead to the multiple auditoriums, searching for the one with our number and showing. Even though I had several minutes to rest while Marcus was at the concession stand, I still felt extremely tired. That dull ache a constant companion as I began to lag behind the others.
Even though I tried to ignore it, those stares from what few patrons that were around, were still very noticeable. The same reactions as those from the food court. A few stood out from the rest, looking at me with not fear or apprehension, but something that seemed more akin to disdain or even hatred. That deeply concerned me; why was I getting such hateful stares from complete strangers? It simply didn't make any sense.
Whether it was comprehensible or not, I still balked. As per usual, my ears plastered back and my head lowered closer to the ground. At the same time, my tail pressed against my rear again, and the feathery wings fluttered slightly on my back, my nervousness thick. Putting the situation as 'uncomfortable' wouldn't have done the feeling justice. I briefly recalled an old childhood memory of me throwing up in a public restaurant – I had the remnants of a flu that week, and the spicy food wasn't agreeing with me that day. The stares I garnered now were virtually the same; no one at that restaurant cared that I was miserable and suffering. All they were concerned about was how gross the event was.
What's going on inside their heads? I asked myself as I tentatively glanced at each face.
I almost immediately regretted that thought as all kinds of hurtful, loathing names scrolled their way across my mind. Each one worse than the last. I felt myself blushing, but not from embarrassment. I didn't have to actually hear those names; they didn't have to say them out loud. It was apparent on each of their faces what they wanted to say to me as they stared. What the hell! What right did they have to treat me like that!? They didn't know me, and right now, I didn't care to know any of them! The pot was boiling over.
I stopped suddenly in the middle of the hallway, stomping a forehoof hard on the ground, “And what the hell are you all staring at!?” I shouted at the top of my lungs as I glared at each of the people that had been looking at me so rudely. I had my hooves spread wide, a stance not unlike the one I took after kicking the police office, wings spread high and wide.
The ones closest to me jumped at my outburst, while the humans that were slightly farther away just continued to gaze at me. One or two even backed away, perhaps even in fear.
My eyes started to mist over. This weird ponification thing happens and everything just felt like it was falling apart. The damned police officer came to mind, his unique choice of words calling me a thing with contempt in his voice. The three teenage punks from earlier with their bullshit, immature game. Even my own family member hated me for something that was completely beyond my control. The love of my life even screamed at the mere sight of me.
I've had enough! I clenched my eyes and grit my teeth as the tears flowed down my cheeks, staining the orange fur on my face. I didn't want this, I just wanted everything to return to normal; the way they used to be. Naked in public, shorter than even a nine-year-old child, being switched in perhaps the most violating way possible! It was simply too much, my head started to throb intensely.
All kinds of different, made up voices laughed and repeated those names my evil imagination conjured up. Embedded in all that misery was a profound sense of confusion; why was this bothering me so much? I couldn't recall any time before when I had reacted in such a way. Normally I didn't care what other people thought of me, especially complete and utter strangers. As far as I was concerned, they could take their opinions and shove them where the sun doesn't shine. So why now? Why was this happening? Why did this feel so vindictive, and personal?
Why am I crying on the ground, trying to hide my head in my hooves?
It made utterly no sense as I sat there with my eyes clenched, wishing the world away.
As my mind raced and raved, time seemed to slow down significantly. For a moment, I began to believe I had been abandoned there to weep endlessly. Like some used and discarded paper cup from a restaurant, infinite crowds of people walking by, going about their business like I wasn't even there. It was a combination of feeling utterly pathetic, and a desperation to want to be invisible – to be completely away from it all.
It was the same kind of stage fright that any young child got whenever the teacher called on them to stand in front of the class. It was those stares that got to me; that, and the uncomfortable, unimaginable events that unfolded in an extremely short amount of time. I couldn't handle it. The shock was too much, the anxiety ate at me in chomps. Ashley had had that breakdown almost right away, even though it was magnitudes smaller, but mine built up and simmered until the seal broke. Again I questioned whether I'd came out of this sane or not.
I barely took notice as a small girl knelt to my left, followed by a smaller, gray equine to my right, and finally, a large, dark skinned man whom sat in front of me. Only when they made physical contact with me did I finally acknowledge their presence.
When that first hand (a small hand, I might add) gently caressed my shoulder, followed by a short arm wrapped around my neck; I jumped noticeably, not expecting it. Whatever it was didn't flinch at my reaction to their contact. Shortly after that, I felt a pair of hard... I don't know – my brain couldn't think right now – softly squeezing my right foreleg. Lastly, another, larger hand held that opposite, unoccupied hoof, rubbing it softly.
The last hand pulled away after a final, last squeeze, and before I could do or say anything in response, a familiar voice spoke up, “Okay people, come on, that's enough!” For the first time in... well, ever, if I recalled correctly, Marcus sounded very annoyed; maybe even slightly angry. My brain was too frazzled and foregone to fully comprehend what was going on right at that second, but somewhere in my subconscious I knew he was trying to disperse the nightmarish crowd.
“Yeah, that's not very nice,” a softer, younger voice chimed in from my left. “if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.” I recognized that lynch-pin in teaching patience and tolerance to others. I'd been so distracted in my own head that I hadn't heard any of the names or words spoken by the random people around me; I wasn't sure if any words had been said at all, but I could still see the voice's point. With that last word, the two arms around my neck tightened lightly.
At that point I opened my blurry eyes, the tears hadn't stopped yet, as I still felt new ones making their escape down the sides of my fur-covered face. God, I must look like a mess. Since my head was hung low, I saw one of the arms clad in a long sleeve shirt wrapped around my neck in the bottom of my vision. In my peripheral, I made out the gray things holding my foreleg – which my brain now remembered that they were hooves.
“Honestly,” the last voice to my right added. That voice was slightly deeper, but still had a very similar softness to the second. She also sounded quite annoyed as she continued, “don't you people have anything better to do than stare rudely at random people?” It was less of a question and more of an accusation, but that's not what made me look in the voice's direction. She had said people, still acknowledging me as a person. The image of that abandoned trash cup was swept away in a whirlwind.
Slowly I looked at the source of that third voice, eager to connect it to that face. There was a brief moment of disappointment when I wasn't met with Ashley's old face – that memory, of her face and mine, was still gone. Like it's been utterly erased – but her equinized visage with the gray fur, elongated snout and large brown eyes. Her smile and sad eyes bore into me, and I couldn't help but smile despite the pitch black cloud that hung over my mind, controlling my current emotional state.
I glanced, now, to the second voice. Shelby sat with her legs underneath her, similar to how I was sitting on the carpeted ground. Sensing that I had moved, she turned her head in my direction. My little sister held nothing but love in her eyes as she smiled brightly. Just like when I stared into Mom's eyes, there was no judgment, no contempt, no negative emotions of any kind. Just her brightly grinning face full of love. Despite having a brother that didn't care for family at all, I felt incredibly lucky to still have Shelby. I had stayed by her side through numerous dark times, and now she was repaying that without hesitation or pause when I was having mine right now. I smiled back at her, and that dark cloud seemed to lift.
As indicated when his hand left my hoof, Marcus had gotten up from in front of me, and began waving the crowds away like an officer directing traffic. Most people seemed to get the hint when the trio had spoken, but those that didn't were getting motioned away by the darker skinned human. He waved away a pair of other guys, whom left with little protest, and glanced in my direction. Our eyes met and held that gaze for a few seconds, Marcus seemed fairly grim. After a moment of that, he smiled small and gave me a slight nod; saying without words that he was there for me.
I nodded back, deciding to sit and wait until the crowds had gone back to whatever their previous business had been. That didn't take long, especially with officer Marcus hurrying them along. Shelby and Ashley still sat with me the entire time. I imagined their looks had given several others pause, warning them not to say anything. It took a little bit of time, maybe a minute or two, before I felt good enough to compose myself.
I motioned to stand, the pair at my side giving the space I needed to do so, and stood up on all four legs. I then used a foreleg and wiped my face; I doubted that it did any good, but the effort needed to be made.
This time I walked with Ashley and Shelby on either side of me, an attempt to hide newcomers whom didn't know about the pegasus pony having an emotional outburst just moments ago. Calmed down quite a bit, I reflected on that strange scene that just unfolded. Again, normally I didn't care about other's opinions, yet now I did... and greatly so it seemed. Never before had I cried in public, but mere minutes ago I bawled like a small child on the floor, with dozens around to see.
And now my face began to burn – this time I took a few mental steps back and 'observed'.
Okay, irrational emotional episode, I examined. Followed by a face full of embarrassment.
I saw from the show that some of the ponies tended to act very emotionally – a certain white unicorn came to mind, name escaping me – but even so, this felt different than that somehow. I had little examples to fall on; so far I saw only Ashley and myself as equines, and couldn't determine whether it was the ponification or the... other major change.
I recalled a thought I had before I left the apartment earlier this same day:
...but I did seem more... I don't know, emotional?...
That stereotype again. Was that why I did that, the gender change? It seemed to make sense. I huffed, and that drew the gaze from Shelby and the rest. Oh, guess I should watch what I do for the time being; I smiled to signal I was okay. They didn't seem too reassured, but we all kept walking nonetheless.
I was actually grateful that the two blocked my view from the hallways. While my mind had calmed, I could still feel that anxiety, mixed in with adrenaline, pumping through my body. There was little doubt that more stares would cause a similar reaction and maybe even another emotional outburst. And I didn't need that!
Today, when I woke up to this pleasant surprise, I thought my biggest challenge would be adjusting to a four-legged, furry, winged body. But it seems that life had other plans. Not only would I have to deal with all of that, but emotional changes as well. I glanced down at my hooves as I marched; walking was easier now, and took less mental strain than several hours prior. Keeping those emotions in check would be difficult, trying to control mood swings as well. Briefly I wondered if this was a regular thing that females had to deal with on a constant basis...
Great, I thought bitterly. I am going to be that crazy and dramatic... wonderful.
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
Shortly thereafter, the four of us found our theater. I made a huge effort to avoid anyone and everyone's face as we traveled, ducking my head and hiding behind stuff. Shelby and Ashley had still volunteered to shield my sight from seeing others. When we passed through the door and the short hallway opened up into the auditorium, the lights were dimmed, the movie had started already.
I inwardly cursed, and wanted to kick myself.
Damn it, I berated. Because of me, we already missed some five minutes or so of the movie...
Suddenly, something small and soft thwacked me behind my right ear, eliciting a surprised yelp from me. I turned my head and looked up at Marcus, whom was giving me a stern look. At first I thought he was annoyed at me because the movie had started and I made us late; I blushed and opened my muzzle to apologize.
“Don't do that,” Marcus said quietly. To my surprise, it didn't seem to be about the movie. “that's not your fault.” He held that stern look a moment longer, then smiled warmly. I wasn't sure if he meant my outburst out in the main hallway, or missing the movie's beginning; but I suspected it was the former.
I glanced at Ashley and Shelby. Neither of them seemed to care that the movie started without us. Regardless, it made me feel like crap knowing that I was the cause, as ears folded back and my eyes were drawn to the floor. All this because I couldn't control myself. I sniffled softly once...
Ow!
I got another thwack on the same ear.
This time I gave Marcus a flat look. That thwacking was starting to annoy me. What was with him getting so violent today? He's tossed and turned me in a laundry sack, slapped me across the face, held me upside down by my tail, and now he's flipping my ears. What's next? A drop kick, punch in the gut maybe? I toyed with the thought of him giving me another Charlie horse. Ugh. I continued to stare at him, and he just stared back.
“Could we sit down maybe?” Ashley interrupted the staring contest.
That made me blink, “Uh, yeah... sure.”
The theater was barely crowded – which was a little surprising since this movie was a prequel to the much-loved Lord of the Rings films, and if I had my dates right, it hadn't been out too long. There were maybe a dozen people sitting scattered about in the rows upon rows of seats. Thankfully, due to the darkness of the room and the fact that the movie had started already, no one paid any attention to the two equines that entered.
“Um,” I spoke up tentatively. “could we sit in the back?” I asked. Even though the place was scarcely populated, I didn't want any more people staring at me. I imagined those few eyes boring into my orange head, staring at my large ears. “Er, if that's okay with you guys...”
I blushed when Marcus stifled a chuckle. Shelby smirked at me. Again I got the feeling there was some kind of inside joke at work here. The only one that didn't appear to know (aside from myself) was Ashley, as she cocked an eyebrow at the two's reaction to my request.
Anyways, they all obliged as we headed up the stairs to the top row of seats; devoid of all life. Marcus took the end seat, desiring the extra leg room awarded by the lack of chairs in front of him. I sat between Shelby and Ashley. The unicorn and myself had a little trouble trying to climb into the folding seat; I was a might distracted by the fact that my bare limbs were in unshielded contact with the unbelievably dirty theater floor. I almost hurled when the sound of stickiness was accompanied by my hoofsteps. Freaking gross! Did they ever mop in here!?
Ickyness and poor climbing skills aside, we both managed to mount our seats. Ashley sat in the same manner in the chair as we did on the floor. I, however, was trying to lounge back in the seat. Forearms placed on the arm rests, back partially hunched between the seat, with my rear hooves partially draped over the cushion's edge. Just like with the stairs in the lobby, this position felt very awkward; again, it was like my body wasn't meant to do that or something. Just another quirk to this ponification.
Another snicker rendered a twist from my ear, and I turned my head to see what was so funny.
Marcus and Shelby were staring at me with the biggest grins on their faces. I blinked once, then twice before I whispered, “What?”
“Lyra would be so proud,” Marcus muttered back.
Huh? Who the hell is Lyra? I cocked an eyebrow, wishing that the human would elaborate, but it seemed he was more content with leaving me in the dark. I rolled my eyes and huffed, stashing the thought in the back of my mind for now. Eventually I'm going to get answers from him.
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
I had a difficult time focusing on the movie.
Some time ago I abandoned that first sitting position which seemed to be so hilarious for whatever reason, and spent several minutes trying out different poses. Eventually I settled on the same form as Ashley, since she was still in that same position when we initially sat down.
The Hobbit seemed to start off exactly the same as the first Lord of the Rings. An awesome, action packed and exciting opening intro that was the premise for the whole movie (and of course the goal for the whole trilogy), with a lot of talking and exposition almost directly afterwards. Talking was anesthesia on my brain, as I started to lose interest in watching this movie. I was certain that it'd pick up fairly soon, fantasy movies always did. But for right now it was boring.
With that I turned my thoughts back to Ashley. I could tell by the look on her face that she wasn't too into the movie either; fantasy and action movies weren't her thing. At the same time though, dramas and romances were just as boring to her as well as to me. Ashley was unique in that she liked mysteries and science fiction stuff. I liked those kinds of movies too, but I'd take massive medieval armies clashing over a detective solving an elaborate murder conspiracy any day.
At that moment Marcus offered each of us some of the candy he'd bought, even being so generous as to open and set it up. I took a chocolate bar with almonds in it, while Ashley asked for a bag of peanuts, also coated in the dark brown sweetness. It seemed that some of the junk Marcus bought wasn't actually junk at all. Thinking ahead, he had asked for some empty cups and shallow bowls – for the purpose of making it easier on Ashley and I – that made the pile seem larger than it truly was.
It felt slightly degrading, bending my head down into a bowl and nabbing one of the rectangular bits. Even so it worked, and the chocolaty goodness started melting in my mouth. Come to think of it, we liked the same treats; any form of nut or fruit coated in chocolate... hmm.
A bright flash of light caught my attention. Despite the chair still being large enough to encapsulate my body, I could see said light through the crack between the seats in front of me. There was only one thing it could be; someone was doing something on their cell phone.
Ugh, I groaned. It never fails. Every movie I ever go to. It was one of my biggest pet peeves. Did people not realize how annoying that was? Pfft, more than likely they didn't care. I rolled my eyes and continued glaring at the source. At this point I really wished I had fingers so I could chuck something small and hard at that person's head. It worked before.
For some reason I found that annoying jerk's cell phone more interesting than the movie. They were playing some game – I could pick out the tell-tale rapid movement of colored pixels. Even though my eyesight was sharp enough to recognize that it was a game, I couldn't specify which.
That also made me think of Ashley. Our taste in movies was slightly opposite, but games were pretty much spot on. She like first person shooters, so did I. Role-playing games? We liked those too... we even had the same dislike of fighting and sports games. Hate them.
I turned my head ever so slightly, looking at Ashley from the corner of my eye. A good portion of her face was obscured by her long, green striped black mane. The world partially slipped away into blackness, everything gone except for Ashley. For just a moment, I thought her human face appeared in my mind's eye, and smiled at me. Conflicting emotions of sadness and joy washed over me.
It's too bad she isn't into...
Wait!
Wait a minute. I'm no longer a guy; could that possibly... was there even a chance that, maybe now, me and her? Again I was conflicted. The thought of possibly being with the girl I loved in a solid, romantic way was absolutely intoxicating. Like one of those impossible dreams becoming a reality that's actually tangible.
And yet...
I wasn't wired like that. I was straight, not gay or even bi-sexual; lesbian didn't apply because I was male. So what about now? Was I supposed to like men – er, stallions – now? Could I simply ignore the years of what society programmed into my brain of what was acceptable? Should I care about that now that my heart's desire was, possibly, within reach? After all, wasn't anything worth sacrificing for happiness? Especially of it was something so... seemingly superficial? Briefly I recalled all the protests, flame wars, and the religious/political blargon spawned from the controversy. On that issue I had always rode the fence, indifferent to whether or not homos could wed or not – naturally that decision stemmed, at least partially, from Ashley informing me of her own choice.
I furrowed my brow as I contemplated this.
Perhaps it was time to pick a side on that issue, I thought to myself.
I would have to tread carefully though. Everyone who has seen me thus far, with the exception of strangers and a certain emo teenager, has been very accepting of me becoming a pony. Honestly, what could they do? What could I do? It just happened; no warning, no indication, no nothing. But this thing, it would be a choice... a potentially very hairy choice.
There was no way to know what anyone's reaction would be to this decision – hell, not even mine, if that made any sense. Although I wasn't even certain that I should make one yet...
The feeling of something pressing my left forearm drew my attention, snapping me out of my thoughts. I blinked, and the relative darkness of the movie theater winked back into existence. I then realized I had been staring intensely at the sticky, cola stained, grimy floor. Ew...
I looked up towards the source: Ashley's worried, yet beautiful, gaze looking back at me – directly into my eyes.
Then she smiled. Not just that ordinary, warm smile, but one that sent butterflies maniacal in my stomach. I was grateful for the theater's darkness, as I could feel my face burning intensely. Was... could that have been something more? Perhaps I should have been cursing the darkness instead; I could barely make out more than that smile.
Despite that, I could see her eyes, and my heart warmed as a result. We held that gaze for – I have no idea how long, but it was a while. Every second was better than the last, perhaps better than the sweet chocolate we were snacking on.
What was she thinking? Even though it was an incredibly, unlikely, nigh-impossible shot, could Ashley have been thinking the same thing I was? I simply had no idea.
A sudden roar forced my down-turned ears up to full attention, and snagged my head back to the screen; heart thumping even more rapidly in my chest. Apparently at some point, huge monsters made of rock started to stammer and fight across the screen with the group of heroes caught in the crossfire. My jaw dropped.
Wow! I tried to pick up on what was happening – and was completely lost. We must have been very far in the movie for that to happen.
Well, I may have bigger problems to worry about, I tried to relax, pushing those concerning thoughts out of my mind, but for now, I'll just enjoy the moment. I glanced back at Ashley, again from the corner of my eye, and felt something I haven't felt for quite a while.
Hope.
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
As expected from a Lord of the Rings movie, The Hobbit was long. So long in fact, that my rump had gone numb. Nothing unusual, as that happened whenever I went to any movie that had a duration of more than two hours. At least it wasn't as intense as my wings were that morning.
The credits were rolling, and the majority of the scarce crowds filed quietly through the seats, converging in the hallway to exit. We waited until most of the people had departed until we made our move. I looked down at the icky floor and grimaced. I didn't want to step on that crap again.
With that in mind, I motioned for Shelby and Marcus to go ahead and get up first. The larger human waited for a moment, before he shrugged, and descended a few steps down before pausing with my little sister.
I glanced over at the now empty seats. Instead of trotting over that filth, I decided to try and navigate over the seats instead. Hopefully I can do it without landing flat on my face.
I stood up on all fours on top of the cushioned seat. Cautiously, I braced my forehooves on the arm rest. After a moment's calculation, my rear hooves joined, and before my balance could be lost, I stretched across the breadth of the next seat to land on the opposing arm rest. I was now stretched over the seat, but not so much so that I couldn't caterpillar myself across. I chuckled softly at my success. At least with this way, I was most likely to land on the soft theater seats rather than the floor; and there were no blood thirsty coffee tables around.
I reached the last seat without incident, and jumped down to join my friends. Ashley followed suit, probably beating my time by at least a few seconds. When it came to obstacles like that, she definitely had some kind of edge over me; I remembered her passing me by on the main staircase, just before I turned into a kamikaze poster bomb. The Japanese must have been proud.
Together we left the theater and re-entered that same hallway.
Oh, I stopped in my tracks. “Hold on a sec,” I said, and they all halted. “be right back!”
I started trotting away quickly, but I thought I heard Marcus yell something about waiting downstairs in the food court. I didn't slow down as I trotted down the hallway, twisting my head this way and that, searching for what I was looking for. If memory served, it was almost completely down the hallway, near the last pair of theater auditoriums. I grew annoyed, for not the first time, at the fact that they put it way the hell back here. Although, I couldn't help but feel grateful for it this day, simply because of events from earlier.
About a minute later, I could see my query at the end of the hall: the bathroom.
I smiled and picked up my pace, the pressure in my loins urging me along.
As I approached my smile waned and disappeared. There were two doors, not one. I knew there was a restroom down here, but I thought it was a small unisex one, not two designated, separate bathrooms! Damn it! As typical, they were each marked with a blue and white sign, one for men and one for women.
Which one was I supposed to use...?
Oh damn the moon straight to hell! I was hoping to avoid this particular problem by using a not-so-used bathroom, and a single occupant one so I could lock the door. Normally I just waited to use the restroom in the food court, since it was on the way out; this time I wanted privacy because of... well, yeah. I glanced around the deserted hallway; not a soul in sight. Everyone was either gone or inside one of the two or three theaters nearby, but that wouldn't last forever.
Ugh, I needed to hurry! I looked back and forth between each of the doors, and bit my lower lip. Using the female restroom seemed to make the most sense, but that hardwired society customs in my brain made me mentally recoil from the thought. It felt so unholy, that a semi-hilarious image of a priest sprinkling holy water on the idea, and repeatedly chanted 'the power of Christ compels you!' invaded my thoughts. There was no way, it was impossible, I was not going to...
My loins started to burn, and as a result my rear legs quivered and I half-crouched down from the uncomfortable pressure. Argh!!
Okay! I thought, prancing back and forth on my hooves comically. Just frigging pick one! There's no one around! Just. Pick. One!!
“Oohhh!” I moaned aloud, still looking back and forth between the two intimidating, and for some reason I thought miss-labeled, doors. Inexplicably, another blush burned its way across my face. I felt my wings peel away from my body, not quite like a flutter, but probably from the discomfort.
“Damn it!” Enough of this! I charged for the doors, closing my eyes when I got close, and picked a random direction. When the distance felt right, I made my move, and turned left. The door gave way and I headed straight for one of the empty stalls.
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
“Ahh,” I sighed as I exited the bathroom, the oddest, droopy-eyed smile on my face.
It was always so relaxing to relie – why am I thinking about this!? Changing thoughts now!
I hope I wasn't in there figuring stuff out for too long, Marcus and the others might start worrying. With that in mind I picked up my pace. Before trotting around the corner, I paused and checked the coast, and it was mostly clear. There was maybe one person, asleep on a nearby bench. As much as I liked this mall, I had had enough people for one day. I tip-hoofed past the sleeping man, and made my way into the lobby.
I came to the same staircase I had flown up earlier. I could, maybe, simply trot down the steps, but where's the fun in that? I flapped my wings, knowing just how much power to use now, lifting myself off the ground by about a yard. Funny, the effort which left me breathless earlier now felt utterly easy. Guess those muscles were developing faster than I thought. That was good news for when I would employ full-fledged flight outside.
I angled my body downward, and held the wings stiff; using them to gently glide down the stairs. I couldn't help but grin again, enjoying the success of this recent attempt.
Although, I wasn't prepared for the number of people, as a quiet eep escaped my lips at the sight of only a few dozen standing in line, waiting to purchase tickets. My ears folded back in apprehension, but luckily no one appeared to notice me yet. As quickly, yet quietly, I trotted towards the exit, more than eager to leave... when something caught my eye.
It was three individuals standing in line at the ticket booth. They wore dark sunglasses and baseball caps, but that wasn't what was odd about them. They didn't wear regular clothes like everyone else; they seemed to be wearing bleached-white robes with a light gray trim.
I blinked, there was something eerily familiar about those robes, but I couldn't put my hoof on it. Briefly I slowed to get a better look. Who would dress like that in a public place like the mall? I mentally questioned; maybe that's why no one was staring at me. They probably had those three in mind.
One of the robed figures, leaning against a wall, noticed me and frowned intensely. He gestured with a hand, and the other two followed suit, imitating that same grimace.
I balked, and quickly turned my head away, focusing on my own trotting. I hated this awkward shyness feeling, but I hated those stares more. Once more I felt my head reel, and my mind wound down that spiraling path that led to my first breakdown.
Don't think about it! I repeated desperately in my head. Focus! Find Marcus and the others, get out of here. I thought about how horse blinders, while incredibly degrading, would have been immensely useful right now. And honestly, I hated that thought too right now.
I caught that hatred, and used it to focus. I let it simmer and sharpen inside my mind. I suddenly felt indifferent about everything, and it felt good not to care so much right now as I partially grit my teeth behind my mouth. Somehow, in a twisted Dan-ish sort of way, everything felt easier. It seemed like I could do whatever I wanted and not be concerned by it.
I stopped in the middle of the food court, checking myself mentally. No, I couldn't let a train of thought like that manifest itself too much; I recalled that outburst just before Shelby came home -- how I unfairly and unjustly screamed at Ashley and Marcus.
I took a deep breath and sighed, "Not again." I muttered to myself. Then a familiar voice caught my attention, Shelby was waving frantically at me, sitting at a table with the rest. I smiled back and trotted in their direction, eager to sit down.
Perhaps we don't have to leave right away, I pondered as I began to relax. Just sitting around to talk would be good right now. Who knows, maybe something interesting will happen for once...
That's what I felt as we finally left the 'best mall ever' behind. Just like when we had driven to the mall in the first place, the ride was uneventful. I was having enough trouble with previous events, and therefore didn't dare turn on the radio; the last thing I needed was to blow a fuse listening to that radio guy again. Truthfully I was still irritated by his comments the first time.
As I sat in the car, I rested my head on the arm rest connected to the door, eager to sleep. I knew it would throw off my schedule, but right now I didn't give a damn. My head throbbed and ached in every which way I was familiar with. For some reason I felt various conflicting emotions, and began to wonder if this was another gender switch problem, or just too much excitement.
I couldn't really pin it down. I felt agitated at the way the day had gone, but nothing specific really came to mind. Anger could be felt simmering in my mind, but again the acute source just eluded me. There did appear to be some good points, as relief and even joy occasionally permeated the dark fog; but even so, the details just wouldn't come to light. It was frustrating, confusing, and oddly, comforting all at the same time – like a puzzle that had yet to be solved.
I hate puzzles.
Well, whatever it was, I hoped it wasn't permanent – like many things today.
I began to drift off to sleep, the steady motions of the black SUV eased my uneasy mind into oblivion.
Slowly my tensed body relaxed, and I was fully supported by the car seat, arm rest and the door itself. Ashley and Shelby, both in the back seat, were having some conversation, but the topic zoned out as my ears tuned out the sounds of existence.
Even so I wasn't allowed much of a respite. Due to being half asleep, I didn't take notice when the vehicle had come to a stop at my apartment complex.
“Hey,” a deep voice that had to be Marcus said from my left, and I felt my ear twist. “wake up sleepy.”
I jerked awake with a snort, “Who, wha –?” and blinked several times while swiveling my head back and forth. My vision was still blurry, so I tried to rub the sleep from my eyes with my wri – did I even still have a wrist? After that was done, I stared at my hoof and pouted. Ugh...
“No time for bed yet sleepy,” Marcus said, and only now did I catch that the dark human was changing his voice to match Sméagol's; which was something that he often did after we had seen a movie.
I was a tad too tired to laugh, and wasn't really in the mood either, so I just half smiled. He was still trying to cheer me up, and even though I appreciated the attempt, I just wanted solitude right now. The day was taxing despite.
Marcus seemed to catch the hint, whether I was giving one or not (I wasn't really trying to, I was just that tired), and dropped the act. After a moment, he removed his dark shades and peered listlessly at me, before asking, “I know this has to be the most redundant question today, buuut,” he smirked a little, before it quickly waned, “are you going to be okay?”
I blinked slowly, my brain's processing power diminished.
Was I going to be okay? I honestly didn't know. The day held more than I bargained for – both good and bad. The people closest to me, with maybe a couple exceptions, now knew about what had happened to me; and appeared to take the situation, mostly, in stride. Coworkers and strangers? Meh. They can either accept it or not, because simply there was no way to change it (that I knew of anyways). Part of that decision was made extremely easy, thanks to the revelation that Ashley was transformed, as well as a not-insignificant portion of the world. My species being changed, as unimaginable as it was, was simply mind boggling enough.
Suddenly I felt immensely grateful that Marcus had shown up and dragged me out of the apartment. God, I couldn't imagine dealing with this and thinking that I was the only one this had happened to. How can anyone deal with that kind of stress and not knowing? I shuddered at the thought.
Then there was that other change to consider.
That I had no idea how to handle becoming female was a huge understatement. Even mundane problems like going to the bathroom, hell, even choosing which bathroom to go to was confusing as hell. I knew I wasn't acting like myself. The mood swings, possibly due to my brain producing different chemicals now, were bad enough as it was. Sanity now seemed like a much more front and center issue than before. I didn't know the first thing about being female; let alone a mare.
Even more disturbing was the fact that my new equine body shockingly resembled those of the characters from that cartoon show that Shelby, and apparently Marcus too, loved. As impossible or unlikely as it sounded, surely the show wasn't involved in whatever happened. That would be ludicrous... right? And if so, who, or what, might benefit from changing a portion of the population into ponies?
And if those mystery enigmas weren't enough to consider, what about other groups that would react to this? I've already seen some of the bad parts: the teenagers at the mall, my younger brother Dan, that older cop, and even more disturbing were those last three individuals with the odd robes whom I still couldn't pin down. Even though that identification eluded me, I got that feeling it wasn't something good – and that wasn't simply because they had glared at me.
Well, despite all of this, not everything was bad. My thoughts turned to Ashley, and the fact that a real relationship might be possible. Long have I wanted to be with her in a romantic way. And even though it may have been my imagination, I could have sworn that that look in the theater was some kind of clue. It was impossible to tell, but it...
I stopped those thoughts in their tracks, and felt my face burn slightly. While I was excited for that prospect, I still had some... issues to deal with before making my decision on how to pursue this. Maybe I can...
My thoughts were interrupted when the interior of the car started to shake.
“Ah-ahk!” I panicked, and used my forehooves to throw off whatever was violently jerking me. Unfortunately, my surprise mixed with my flailing caused me to fall into the foot of the passenger seat... on my head.
For the second... no, third, time that day I was upside down, and sprawled out in a compromising position. My body was smaller, sure, but I was still cramped up in the small space meant for feet, and not a pony's body.
“Agh! Marcus!” I grunted angrily while trying to right myself to no avail. I simply had no room to move! Arrugh! Dumb pony body. I pouted at my uncomfortable predicament.
For once he didn't wear that trolling smirk on his face, and he reached over to drag me out from the floor, while apologizing mildly. Although when he plopped me back on the chair, I still had to maneuver to sit back down. It took maybe a minute, and it didn't help that the onlookers in the backseat were snickering at me. I turned to glare at him, but stopped cold when I saw his worried grimace.
“What is it?” I asked, perhaps a little more tersely than intended.
“You spaced out there for a moment,” he replied.
To confirm, I glanced back at Ashley and Shelby; they both nodded in response, and shared that same look of concern.
For the next few seconds I switched my gaze between the three of them. They were simply worried for me. Was it that noticeable how much this was affecting me? Was I really zoning out like a zombie? That's never happened to me before. Come to think of it, it has happened more than just once today; like back in the movie theater and...
I think it's happening again right now...
That was confirmed when I saw Marcus' hand edge towards me again, and I blocked it with a hoof. “I'm okay you guys,” I said with a smile, and chuckled to add a little emphasis. “really, I am. I'll be okay...”
“Are you sure big brother?” Shelby leaned forward in her seat, resting her hands on the middle arm rest.
My grin grew, and I put a hoof on my little sister's hand for assurance, “I'm sure squirt.” Outwardly I kept up my 'happy' demeanor, but inwardly I was frustrated that I couldn't actually 'grasp' her hand with my own. The blunt hooves made that impossible, and I had to fight back an exasperated groan. If for nothing else than to keep up the facade.
Shelby smiled wide, beaming at me, before sitting back in the car seat; she was apparently satisfied with my answer. I glanced over at Ashley, and she seemed worse for wear. Her large brown eyes were drawn to the floor, and an intense frown tugged the corners of her mouth downwards. I blinked, and thought maybe it should have been us asking Ashley if she was all right.
What's eating her? I wondered, my eyes switched back and forth between her own, and my wings fluttered again on my back. She looked like she wanted to be alone, much like how I felt right now, the look of some forlorn sadness deep within. The unicorn probably wanted nothing more than solitude at this moment, no one pestering her with conversation...
So, I decided to ask anyways, “Are you going to be okay?” For some reason the simple question felt like an intrusion, but I had to know. I was more concerned for her than myself.
Ashley didn't answer, but her ears pasted back on her head; I wasn't sure if that meant she hadn't heard me, or if she did and my words, somehow, made things worse. Now I partially knew why she was miffed when I had done the same thing outside the concession stand.
I rolled my eyes and stated a bit more loudly, “Earth to Ashley! Hello? Anyone home?”
The unicorn blinked rapidly, and turned her eyes to me. As predicted she questioned, “Huh?”
I smirked at the irony, and repeated my question. The annoyance at being ignored initially evaporated, and was replaced by relief that Ashley wasn't a basket case... yet. Oh God I hoped that didn't happen. And truthfully, I was beginning to wonder if either of us would need a therapist by the week's end. Unpleasant thought! Ack!
Physically I shook the thought away with my eyes closed, and then refocused on Ashley – whom had an eyebrow cocked at me. In my peripheral vision, Marcus and Shelby wore similar looks. Probably wondering what I was doing, and why. They all appeared to let it slide though, as none of them bothered to inquire further.
“Uh,” Ashley spoke up, and she seemed to struggle with the words as her ears were still glued down. “I'll be... fine... Sam, don't worry about me. I just need some... rest... I guess.”
I stared at her a while longer with a semi-flat look. It was perhaps the most unconvincing statement I'd ever heard – I've gotten more convincing arguments from my idiot friends on Live, and at least one of them was a compulsive liar...
Still, it felt wrong to press the subject, so I kept my orange muzzle shut. Without turning, I looked at Marcus, and he didn't believe a single word either; likewise though, he stayed quiet. If Ashley wanted to talk, or if it was direly important, then she would; I had no doubt about that. But even so I wanted to help, wanted to make her feel better, and part of me felt horrible for not doing so right then and there.
I huffed lightly, and let the subject drop.
Assuming that the silence was cue to leave, I started hoofing at the little metal lever that would release the door. The recessed cavity and narrow handle was simply too small, but I was convinced that, with the tips of my hooves, I could get it. I just needed a little more grip... or catch or whatever! A couple times I almost had the damned thing, when it slipped from my hooves and clacked back in place with a thump.
“Arrugh!” I groaned in heated frustration.
“Want me to –?” Marcus asked.
“NO!” I nearly shouted, anger building in my face as I whirled to face him. “No! I can get it!”
He shrugged and propped his head on the steering wheel, enjoying the show with a small smirk. I blushed lightly and he cocked an eyebrow at me. Jackass.
A couple more attempts go by before I finally gave up on using my hooves. Damn it this was harder than I thought! I moved on by trying to use one of my dexterous wings; they were able to pick up a paper cup, and were small and thin like fingers. Maybe they could open the blasted door when hooves failed.
I wrapped the first few feathers on the tip of my right wing around the metal handle, and pulled. The lever came halfway out before it just wouldn't budge any further. I could feel it in the way the mechanism was catching; another half an inch and the door would have opened. The feathery wings lacked the strength to overpower the latch; that, and what felt like a muscle cramp was forming in my right shoulder. Arrugh! Dumb door!
The wing slipped and I jerked back into the car seat, knocked slightly for a loop. When I recovered I growled in frustration, and glared daggers at the door handle that kept me prisoner.
Damn it! I fumed. Hooves were too thick, but had the strength needed to pull the thing out all the way. Wingtips were small enough to wrap around the handle, but weren't strong enough to open the door. It was like one of those maddening conundrums, that no matter what you did there was no way to win without the other piece, with the condition that you had to win to get that final piece! Arrugh!
I stomped my hoof on the leather cushion, ready to give up...
Oh! A little light bulb flashed in my brain as a stroke of inspiration hit me. I grinned maniacally, then gave the door latch a mischievous glare. That should work...
I wrapped my wingtip around the handle – just like before – and pulled until the thing caught – just like before. This time I didn't try to overpower the thing, and simply held it out. Now I lifted up my hoof, and placed that tip under the handle; there was just enough room to get just enough hoof to keep the thing from snapping back in place.
I pulled with that hoof, and just like that the door clicked open.
“Hah!” I elated. Victory was mine! Eat that, damned door!
I glanced back at the others, and wore a confident, even cocky, smirk.
Marcus rolled his eyes and had his palm to his forehead, while Ashley smiled and shook her head. Both of them were amused at my glee of success for what was essentially a mundane and trivial task. Meh, I didn't care, I was proud of myself and was going to enjoy it! In response, I stuck my tongue out at them, while sticking my nose in the air with my eyes closed. Take that!
We all chuckled at the light-hearted fun. Marcus handed me my things – key ring, cell phone and wallet. It wasn't a big deal really, I already knew that the wings, when folded down, could hold on to a few things. I held the wing open almost like a pocket, and he placed them inside when I gestured at him. Marcus seemed unsure about the technique, but I assured him it would work out.
With that, I said my goodbyes and jumped out of the car, then pushed the door closed – I imagined that they were eager to get home too. Marcus still had to run Shelby and Ashley home before he could finally relax after this taxing day.
I watched the black SUV as it pulled out into the traffic, and continued watching until it disappeared from sight. It almost pained me to see them go, but there would be a next time, and probably soon; I still had two more days off, plus the rest of today – er, tonight. The sun was close to setting, as the cloudy sky was painted a breath-taking collage of oranges, reds, and purples all smeared together like a water-color painting. Just over the mountains, the fiery orb that breathed life into our planet hung halfway behind the behemoths. For lack of a better word, the scene was beautiful. Perhaps the only thing that marred the perfect sight was that strange anomaly that ominously floated in the air.
I wonder how many sunsets I'll see while I'm like this...
Strangely, as that thought crossed my mind, I felt indifferent about the whole situation. The mood was completely unlike me, or was it more like me? It was getting more difficult to recall what had been me, and what was me now, and... damn it that doesn't make sense!
“Arrugh!” I groaned aloud, then stared flatly at the sky. “Friggin' mood swings, I swear!” Those were going to get me in a lot of trouble someday if I didn't get control of them soon... egh, another problem for tomorrow I guess... sleep now...
“Guess I'd better get this over with...” I muttered to myself, my gaze fixed on the glass and wood double doors that led to the leasing office. From here, it was the only entrance into the apartment complex, and there was always at least one worker inside, plus one of the numerous managers. They were all usually really nice, and in the ten months or so that I've been a tenant, there weren't any problems with the apartment. The only times we really interacted was when I needed to pick up a package that was too large for the small, assigned mailbox.
I took a deep breath, and made my way across the tarmac and to the door. I placed a hoof on the wood paneling... and paused. Maybe I didn't have to go through this after all. I could just trot over to the east side gate and bypass as much as possible to my domicile, avoiding as much human contact as I could.
The very idea was tantalizing, and I wanted it badly; the longing removed my hoof from the door by a few inches... then it joined the other three on the concrete. The door became smaller as I backpedaled away slowly. Yeah, I'll just... I'll visit tomorrow... yeah... I'll do that.
Oh come on! My mind exasperated at me. You can't keep avoiding this! Stop being a damned baby and get it over with! Similar words I'd just spoken to myself echoed in my brain.
And suddenly I was increasingly annoyed with myself as a frown splayed across my face, and my brow furrowed; was I really that afraid of interacting with the people in the office? It felt so utterly ridiculous that, again today, I wanted to kick myself. I just didn't know what this was supposed to be; fear, anxiety... what? Maybe I thought their reaction would be the same as that hallway back in the theater, and would result in a mental breakdown like before.
Before I could think on it any further, I took a deep breath and forced myself through the door.
__---***:::<o>:::***---__
The sun had nearly disappeared completely below the horizon as I trotted my way to the east side gate, my flat look still plastered on my face. I stopped in place to rub my aching jaw and neck again with my hoof, the muscles still sore and throbbing.
When I tried to go through the main office door, I failed to notice the 'Sorry, we are closed' sign right in the middle of the glass. Determined to show my furry face to the office employees, I smacked myself right in the jaw, and promptly collapsed on the ground, and reeled in surprise. I had sat in front of the door for almost five minutes, working my brain to figure out what was wrong.
I grumbled after I trotted into the dimly lit parking lot.
The space was pretty typical; two lanes of parking spaces, most occupied by a myriad species of automobiles, with maybe the scarce empty slot here and there. To my left was the various, evenly spaced, multi-floored buildings that were the 'units' of apartments, along with the well-kept grassy grounds. To my right was the 'assigned' parking, basically just covered parking that tenants could get for an extra twenty dollars a month, and after that was a two and a half meter high cinder block wall. Ahead of me the identical stretch of road loomed on in the darkness, bathed in random blotches of light that emanated from various porch lights.
My apartment was towards the back end of the complex, quite a walk away. It may have been slightly shorter to go through the grounds itself, but the parking lot was always pretty secluded at this time of early evening. Aaand I may as well milk my 'misfortune' of not being able to reveal myself to others from here.
The night was calm; eerie, but completely calm. Perhaps the only sound that occasionally cut through the silence was the rare chirp of a cricket. The gentle kiss of the night time breeze brushed passed the fur that covered me from head to toe – hoof; or would that be tail now...?
I pressed on, knowing that I had some distance to cover. Even though I was tired, and wanted my bed, I trotted slowly more or less. The cool night time air was relaxing, therapeutic even, and put my mind at ease. Taking a walk outside was one of the occasional things I did. I let my mind blank while I slowed to a ponderous walk, unfocused and not thinking of anything in particular. After a minute or two of walking, it dawned on me that it became effortless now to use four legs. For some reason I thought the triumph was anti-climactic; like it should have been far more difficult than it actually was.
“Meh,” I muttered aloud passively.
I weaved my way between a couple cars, which was surprisingly easy, given my new size, and found the sidewalk that connected. The grounds themselves were always well kept, and made for pleasant scenery. The buildings that made up the apartments circled a more open area with a smartly laid out path of concrete sidewalks and seemingly randomly spaced trees surrounded by grass, and trimmed bushes. Every several yards there was a light source that made everything easier to see – and that made the area a little more safe.
Even though it didn't look like it, I was surrounded by people – they were just in their homes watching television, eating dinner, asleep, or whatever else people did at home. A few doors were open and illuminated with light, their occupants occasionally visible as they moved about. Just as with the lot, it was mostly quiet; in fact, the clip-clop of my hooves on the concrete was perhaps the most dominant sound that invaded my ears... any chance of stealth was somewhat shot.
Clip, clop. Clip, clop...
I still wasn't used to the sound of my own hooves – it sounded like those spiked high heels when they clunked down a hard surfaced hallway. I stopped and stared down at my hoof, slightly irritated by the sound.
A moment later I began walking again, proceeding down the path.
Clip, clop. Clip, clop...
Over the pace of a few seconds, my blank look turned into a frown. I know the clip-clopping hoof noises are... new and weird, but they sounded even more odd than I thought they should have. The hell... it was like I had twice the hooves as 'normal'.
I halted again, and the noise immediately stopped – as it should have. I sat back on my haunches and stared at my forehooves. Why the hell did they sound so weird now? I cocked my head to the side, trying to figure this crap out. When nothing appeared to be out of place, I sighed, then got back to my hooves and repeated my slow walk...
Clip, clop. Clip, clop.
Almost immediately the weirdness resumed, and I growled in annoyance, “Dumb hooves! I swear this is going to get old real qui –” I started to quietly berate myself, then my ears twisted to some other noise behind me.
“Gyah!” I screamed, utterly startled by the noise. I was completely certain that I had been 'alone' out here on the sidewalk, and the sudden sound directly behind me scared me half to death!
It was a soft sound, but anything you're not expecting may as well be as loud as a gunshot. My four legs went as stiff as sticks, the muscle spasm sent me straight up into the air; those few inches were enough to make me lose balance completely and fall onto the, now I realized wet, grass. During that, my wings had gone erect and dropped my three belongings as well.
As I lay there on the grass, the sound that practically made me pee myself continued on; and I recognized it. It was laughter. Well, not really laughter, just stifled giggling – and I guessed it was at my expense now that I was collapsed on the grass. I lifted my half-wet head to stare...
… and was met with another equine.
The pony laughing at me with a hoof to her mouth was a dark teal-ish color – or a dark green, it was hard to tell in this light. The mane and tail were two-toned, like my own, except they were shades of unnatural hair colors: a blueberry blue and a cool scarlet, almost plum purple color. Wow; what crazy super natural force determined these colors anyways? I'm orange, and this one is teal. Seriously!?
Eventually she quit her giggling, and walked over to me with a big grin, “Sorry, I couldn't resist.” the mystery mare offered a hoof along with her apology... then took it back when it dawned on her that that gesture wouldn't work out the way it should have. With that she just grinned sheepishly.
I picked myself up off the ground, and grimaced a little; my entire left side was soaked in the dew of the freshly watered grass, turning half my coat a significantly dark orange. Honestly, I couldn't make up my mind whether I should have been thrilled, or annoyed. Being scared half to death wasn't really any fun for me, I simply didn't like it. On the other hoof, I was finally meeting more of the ponified populace, and it put my mind at ease to actually see that I wasn't alone.
“It's fine,” I said flatly while looking her over.
I stared at her, and she stared back – with that grin still on her face. I got the feeling that she was overly happy to see me... and that made it all the more creepy; I had no idea who this was! When I glanced at her hooves, though, she had on white colored weight bands; the kind that people wore when they went running and wanted an extra challenge, along with a matching sweatband on her forehead. That meant that she must have been out for a late evening jog – which also meant she probably lived in the same complex.
“So,” she broke the ice, which knocked me from my thoughts. “you live here too?” she gestured at me with a teal hoof.
“Yeah,” I replied. “just got home from an...” I paused, and wondered if I should even continue. Although it would seem rude not to, I let out a breath through my nose, “... interesting day.” and decided to leave it at that.
“Oh,” she said simply, even so her smile stayed present. “well that's good. Interesting days are always the best,” I mentally facehooved as she continued, “today was definitely a doozy.” she stared at her hoof, whilst still smiling, and simply turned it this way and that.
Well, this is surreal. Throughout this short day, I never imagined that I'd meet someone that seemed so... indifferent about this. The mare before me didn't seem stressed, or confused, or frightened at all by the transformation that suddenly befell the world. If anything, she was excited about it. That practically confounded me, and I had to fight to keep balance again. There was something wrong with her, I could just feel it.
“Anyways,” she had finished some rant while I was zoned out. Arrugh! It happened again! I need to stop that. “my name's Chloe. What's yours?”
Chloe leaned forward towards me, and I couldn't help but recoil back a little; my wings partially lifted away from my back. Seems she didn't have much of a prospect for personal space.
“I'm Sam.”
“Ooh!” Chloe guffawed excitedly. “As in Samantha? I always liked that name, I want to give it to my first child if it's a girl...” she brought a thoughtful hoof to her chin as I stood there, waiting for my twitching eye to stop. Chloe suddenly stopped talking, frowned, and scrunched her forehead as though deep in thought. “Or would that be 'foal' or 'filly' now? Oh well, doesn't make that much difference I guess.”
While Chloe continued to chatter about the differences between the two terms, I found my stuff resting on the grass, speckled with tiny droplets of water. I wasn't concerned about any of it getting ruined. A short dry would fix everything, and even the cell phone shouldn't be too damaged.
I just deposited the cell phone back into my left wing, and made to pick up the wallet – when I noticed it was gone. Briefly my mind panicked at the missing billfold, until Chloe appeared next to me with the item in question in her mouth. With a smile, she dropped the thing in to join the phone.
“Uh, thanks.”
Chloe stared at my side for several moments. Just when I started to feel uncomfortable, she gasped; her grin went wide and she again leaned very close, invading my personal space. “Oh my gosh! You have wings! That's so cool; I wish I had wings!”
I blushed at her guffawing at my wings, and my gaze was drawn to the ground with a nervous smile. “Uh, hehe, thanks I guess...” Jeez, when did I get so apprehensive?
“Want to join me for a walk?”
It seemed harmless enough, so I said yes.
During that conversation, we'd started walking on the sidewalk path again. Chloe asked, no, interrogated, me on everything to do with the wings. Actually, I didn't get a chance to say too much, as every time I answered a question she'd go on a rant that started off relevant, then moved on to completely random tangents. I maybe got out that I was called a 'pegasus', that I'd already flew (and crashed) once, and a couple other things. In a way I found it kind of cute...
Gyah! I blushed and twitched at the thought. No, no, no, no! Stop it brain!
“So?” Chloe asked while looking at me with her big blue eyes while we trotted.
“Huh?” I said in return. She cocked an eyebrow at me, and I apologized, “Sorry, I spaced. What did you say?”
At my comment her smile waned, and she looked at the ground. Oh boy, what did I say now?
“What's wrong?”
“Oh, it's nothing,” Chloe said, none too convincingly.
“Come on,” I nudged her with my elbow. “you can tell me.” I smiled back at her, and it seemed to lift her spirit.
“I'll be okay,” Chloe insisted.
“Well, if you wanna talk about it...” I made my genuine offer.
She simply nodded, and we walked on in silence for a few minutes. I pondered just what Chloe had been about to say, and wondered if it was truly 'nothing'.
“Did you just wake up like this too?” I asked, and was curious if Chloe had had anything like the crazy day I had.
“Yeah, I think just about everyone that was turned just 'woke up' like this.” Chloe stated. “I dunno, I think it's kind of interesting maybe? Waking up in a new body; it's almost like a new toy at Christmas!” Chloe added jubilantly. Her attitude at the whole thing was surprising; and maybe a little refreshing. The reactions of Ashley and myself were less than optimistic... or at least at first.
Then I noticed that she was only wearing the exercise weights and head band. In fact, Chloe didn't have a horn or wings. Even though I didn't really want to, I recalled the radioman's words:
'And most aren't even normal ponies, as if that were a plus'...
I guessed that since Chloe wasn't a unicorn or pegasus, then that meant she was one of the 'normal' ponies. The show had a name for them, but it eluded me. Just like with many things, I should have paid closer attention.
It may have been a bit intrusive, but I had to ask, “So you're... comfortable... walking around without clothes?” For once, what would have normally been an awkward question, asking it didn't make me blush. Thank god.
Chloe stared blankly at me for a moment, and I was about to apologize again before her hoof could make hard contact with my face, when she chuckled. Wait, what?
“No, silly!” she actually called me silly, and I blinked in confusion. “Ponies don't need clothes. And besides, nothing right now would fit anyways! These weights and sweatband are the only things I have that can still be worn without a hassle! And I'm already wearing a fur coat! Hah!” Chloe laughed at her own joke, and I couldn't help but chuckle.
We chatted it up on some basic information then. Family, friends, etcetera. We both lived on out own, and did not yet have a specific goal in mind as far as careers went. Stories about how we woke up this morning were eerily similar; struggling to walk, first realizing what had happened via mirror (although reactions were opposite), as well as initial hesitation to go outside.
We exchanged ages; she was twenty while I was a year older. I found out that Chloe was in the block right next to mine. That lead to her inquiring about me; that she knew, or at least knew of, everyone in the immediate vicinity, and didn't recall a 'Samantha' occupying any of the nearby apartments.
That killed my mood faster than a work boot landing on a cockroach.
“Uh, yeah,” I replied, hanging my head a little with my ears pasted back. “let's just say that more changed than just being a pony... and leave it at that?” I tried to drop the subject.
Again she cocked an eyebrow at me, and I got the feeling Chloe didn't know what I was referring to, as she looked deep in thought. After a few seconds her eyes widened, and I assumed the dawning realization must have struck her – I was seeing that look a lot today, and it was starting to bug me.
“Oh!” She finally said, and I waited for the inevitable. “Oh, you don't like being orange?”
Thud.
Okay! Not what I was expecting!
“No!” I groaned, and got back on my hooves. “I... I've been...” I struggled with the words. Should I even bother telling her? Honestly, she was the first one today that didn't automatically pick up on it. I stared intently at the ground and muttered under my breath...
“I'm sorry, I didn't catch that?” Chloe leaned a little closer, perking her pointed ears up.
I sat back on my haunches, ears practically disappearing into my skull, and mumbled again.
“Huh?” Chloe stuck a hoof tip in her pointed ear, and made like she was trying to clear her canal. “One more time?”
My frustration was building, and I stared back at her with a bemused look, my cheeks burning. Even with the billboard's worth of facial signs I was giving Chloe, she didn't appear to notice as she waited obliviously for me to repeat myself. My God, was she really this dense!?
“My name's not Samantha,” I said, being mindful of my volume, and got a blank stare in return. “my name is Sam... as in Samuel.”
It took a few seconds to click for Chloe, but she held that same inquisitive look. “Oh, well why didn't you just say so?”
“I didn't really want to in the first place...” I replied a little bitterly, and hung my head again.
Before I knew it, Chloe was beside me, and choking me with a bear hug. “Don't worry, it's not that bad!” Chloe said cheerfully as I struggled to breathe.
“Okay... great...” I wheezed, and tried to pull away. “can you let go, please?”
“Oops!” Chloe released me, and I sucked in the air greedily. When I looked back to her, she had the cutest, sheepish grin, and I couldn't help but smile back. We held that stare on one another for... I honestly had no idea, but after a while, it dawned on me that it must have been pretty late. Chloe and I had spent a long time just talking while trotting laps around the complex.
“Well,” I blinked, breaking the contest and the ice. “I think I should get going...” with that I stood up and stretched – rather awkwardly. It was kind of crazy just how different that sensation felt just because of the foreign body. The new joints most of all; one thing that didn't appear to change was the joints cracking when I stretched. Ahhh... it felt good...
“Okay,” Chloe's eyes portrayed that she was sad to see me go, but understood why. The mare turned away to trot on, and took a few steps before stopping again. “Hey.” she called out.
I gave her my full attention, my ears stood straight up.
Chloe paused, staring back at me with her friendly smile. That hesitation lasted several moments, and I was about to reply when she spoke a single word. “Goodnight.”
My grin grew slightly, and I waved my goodbyes to her.
I think I was in a better mood now than I had been the entire day. My concerns and trepidations were pushed away into the back of my mind, forgotten for the moment. I trotted happily towards my end of the complex, a smile on my face. Chloe was right; things wouldn't be so bad. And truthfully, even if they start out bad, they can only get better over time.
Splat.
I jumped – even though I had already been startled today – when something wet smacked my nose. I wrinkled it, the irritation unaccustomed, and looked up at the sky. It was completely dark; that meant it had somehow gotten extremely cloudy in the time since I was up at the office.
Splat.
Another droplet landed right on my forehead, and made me flinch. Oh ya, it's going to rain – and I'm still outside! Crap!
I galloped off in the direction of my apartment as more drops began to darken the gray of the concrete, determined not to get a second shower today.
__---***:::<o>:::***---__
Having things stuck to you sucks.
I didn't make it inside the hallway for my unit, and got drenched as a result. Pretty much the same when I got in the shower; I felt immensely heavy, as though I were wearing a lead jacket, with my tail clinging to my hind legs. Once or twice I stopped and tried to separate the troublesome tail, mostly to minimize the chance of tripping. Likewise the two-toned brown mane hung just over my eyes, distorting my vision severely. After those initial attempts – and failures – I gave up in frustration and decided to just make the best of it. Seriously, how did people even deal with long hair!? This was ridiculous! I felt ridiculous!
For the most part, my door was straight down; no twists or turns or (thank God) stairs to climb. And at this time of night, traffic would be minimal at most. Every door that bore an apartment number graciously stayed closed. Oddly enough, I found myself more concerned with being seen soaking wet than someone observing me as a pony.
Just keep thinking positive Sam, I moaned in my head, and nodded my skull back and forth with each word. I felt cold and miserable and it simply didn't help much. Things can't get much wor –
Ack! Don't think that! Do not think that!
The last time those words crossed my mind, bad stuff friggin' happened! Namely that police officer and everything that foreshadowed as a result. Oh, that reminds me: I owe Marcus a sneaky check. Yes, I still planned on paying him back. The only reason he got that ticket was because of me, I was sure of it, and wasn't going to let him weasel his way out of it.
I mean honestly, the whole thing was my fault. I knew it, he knew it, and therefore I had to make amends. Living with that mistake wasn't something I wanted to do. It was just one of those things that would eat, and eat, and eat away at my conscience...
I stopped dead in my tracks, right in the hallway.
Before me was the glass door that led out into the rainy night – somehow I had distracted myself and walked from one end of the unit to the other, right past my studio.
I half chuckled at the thought, and said to myself, “Distracted pony is distracted, hehe...” while looking around to make sure I was indeed alone. What's crazier after all; an orange pegasus pony walking down the hall, or an orange pegasus pony walking down the hall and talking to herself? Heh, wouldn't have enjoyed trying to explain that.
And I'm finally referring to myself as female, I realized, and groaned again. Still not used to this shit.
Before another self-conversation could be sparked, I turned around and made my way back down the hall, focusing more on the numbers on the doors as they passed. I could find my apartment in my sleep, thanks to traveling back and forth from there to various other places, but for whatever reason I had gotten very distracted this time.
Found it! I thought cheerfully, and a grin formed on my mouth.
I stared at the keyhole that would unlock the deadbolt; I'd already formulated how I would do this, now I only hoped that it would go according to plan. I partially parted my left wing, which contained my stuff, and withdrew the key ring with my right wing. Finding which key I needed was easy enough; they were all distinguished, and there was only the, what, five keys? Meh.
I laid down the cell phone and wallet on the floor so I could manipulate the key with both wings. The feather wrapped around the small piece of metal in the middle, and I let the rest of the key ring dangle. Now I braced my forehooves on the door to reach the lock, and inserted the teethed key. As expected, it slid in without a problem. I bit down on the key, my head crooked parallel to the floor; then twisted, the key turned, which slid the deadbolt to the side.
Since the handle was, well, a handle, opening the door was made easy. I scooped up the phone along with the wallet, and deposited them on one of the end tables – like I always did, before shutting and locking the door.
Sanctuary. I was now alone in the apartment. Alone; what a nice word.
I thought about, maybe, trying to make something to eat, but it just felt too late and I was too tired; all I really wanted was to go to sleep. Only now that the excitement of the day was over and done with, did the three hours of sleep finally catch up with me.
I trotted into the bathroom, and nosed the light switch when I braced against the same counter top where I'd discovered my 'new self' that morning.
Yeesh, I looked tired. My eyes were nearly bloodshot; probably a combination of lack of sleep, as well as all the damned crying I did today. Mentally I tallied the number; it was small, but more than I would have liked. Despite being alone, I felt embarrassed at how many tears had rolled down my cheeks this day.
After I was done looking at me in the mirror, I retrieved a couple of the towels I'd used to dry off earlier, and repeated those same motions after I took my morning shower. This time I succeeded in wrapping my mane up by using my wings, along with hooves, to manipulate the towel. Again I was surprised at how easy this was after just several hours of 'practice' in the new body.
I walked back into the living room, wrapped in two towels, and nosed another light switch. The two lamps that sat on the pair of end tables flicked to life, bathing the dark studio in soft illumination. The immediate thing that drew my attention was the blood stain on the floor. The tiny red speck was even smaller than a dime, but still quite noticeable against the light brown carpet.
Well, I'll have to get some rug machine to get that up probably. Egh, another problem for another day...
I shrugged off the thought, and stuffed it to the back of my mind to bother me later. I hoofed the T.V remote, and the screen again flickered to life. The night time news was playing now, and there were two human male anchors delivering reiterations on the mystery transformation. I frowned a little, as I was kind of hoping that the anchor mare would still be on the air; at least once today, I wondered whether she had been fired or let go or whatever. It didn't really matter to me, but I was curious nonetheless.
Anyways, I'd had enough news today, since most of it was bad.
Hoofing the controller again, I changed the T.V's input, and activated the console. In ten seconds flat, the device started up and brought up the main menu. I laid a hoof on the right joystick, which manipulated the screen towards what I wanted. During that process I had received a couple game invites from friends...
Sorry guys, I thought with a woeful smile. Not tonight – I'm not even sure if I can anymore.
Since typing out an apologetic decline would have taken forever, I decided to just ignore them. Marcus was one of the people online, I saw when I checked the friends' list, but he didn't invite me to anything yet. He probably would want to chat, maybe, later.
Just as when Shelby had done so at the house, I found Netflix and started it up. The application took its sweet time running, so I took the moment to unwrap and discard the towels on my mane and tail. They were mostly dry, perhaps slightly on the moist side... good enough.
The movie menu finally loaded, and I started perusing the selection. I didn't really want to watch something new right now, and picked some old titles that I liked. Right now I basically just wanted some distraction to break the silence. In the past, on rough or stressful days, I would leave the T.V on when I went to sleep; somehow having the background noise and light helped to lull me to sleep.
And with that I climbed my way onto the couch/bed hybrid and laid down on my side, both sets of hooves partially visible in my vision, with my cartoony head resting on the pillow.
I must have been exhausted, as my body just went limp on the couch; I thought about moving, but my limbs just protested at the very thought, let alone actual effort. I focused on the screen, watching as armored troopers fought off robots with futuristic weaponry and vehicles. I recognized the movie as an action sci-fi war film, but at the same time, my brain was simply too fried to recall the title.
Once more I felt that anesthetic on my brain, and my eyes drooped and finally closed, the only light I saw through my lids came from the T.V; and even that was very faint. I felt my ears fold back, and sound became more muffled.
As my head began to turn off, the only real sensation I noted was the steady rising and falling of my fur-covered chest. After maybe another couple minutes, oblivion took me.
__---***:::<o>:::***---__
Knock, knock, knock...
I stirred in my sleep and whined aloud. Something was trying to rouse me from slumber, and I did not like it Sam I am! I rolled over and buried my face in the pillow. Silence pervaded the darkness again.
Knock, knock, knock...
Despite not wanting to, my ears perked up and twitched with each rhythmic knock. Damn pony ears. That full-on movement was so much more noticeable than their human counterparts.
“Mpfiff mpmoor mphinits...” I mumbled complaining as I snuggled back down to sleep.
Seems life hates me today, as...
Knock, knock, knock., KNOCK!
Arrugh! Whoever was at the fucking door better have a good reason. The knocks were getting louder and more insistent – they were not going to give up.
I cracked my still burning eyes open, and twisted myself upside down, then glanced at the time: 1:25 A.M.
Seriously!? Who is at the door at one-thirty in the damned morning! The fuck!
Oh I was pissed. This was beyond rude and annoying; if that was a salesman at the door, so help me God, I was going to buck his damn teeth in and shove whatever he was selling straight up his ass!
Mentally I tried to kick start my sleep-insistent body, and as I did so I tasted something odd. There was hair in my mouth – like, a lot of it. There was enough light from the T.V for me to see (the movie, a long one, was still playing). I looked down at my mouth, causing my eyes to go cross. In my sleep, my two-toned fuzzy tail was being hugged by my four limbs not unlike a stuffed animal, with the tip lodged in my muzzle.
I blinked a couple times. Well, this was a new take on 'sucking your thumb' in your sleep...
Knock, knock, knock.
I grumbled, my face going flat as I forgot the tail-sucking entirely.
Slowly, begrudgingly, and more than a little angrily, I moved off of the couch and made my way to the door. Unlocking was as easy as turning the deadbolt handle – I didn't bother with the security chains last night. I opened the door at the same time as my mouth, about to spew a litany of curses and promises of gruesome, gruesome violence...
… when the door revealed a familiar, and very wet, gray unicorn.
My words caught dead in my throat (thank God!), as I stared at Ashley in the hallway. Just like how I was earlier, she was soaked to the brim from horn to hoof – it must have still been a downpour outside. That black and green striped mane covered, literally, half of her face with just one brown eye showing; her tail likewise stuck messily to her dark gray fur. For the longest time we just stared at each other, and didn't say a single word.
Eventually, I used a hoof to manually close my jaw, and cleared my throat to speak, “Ashley? Wha-what are you doing here?” I asked in astonishment, my anger and irritation utterly gone.
She didn't answer with words, and instead her gaze drifted down to the hallway floor.
Uh oh. Whatever, it didn't matter; I shuffled aside and ushered her in with a hoof, and spoke somewhat urgently, “Come in before you get sick!”
Ashley's head bent low and she walked slowly into my apartment. Out of curiosity and suspicion, I checked the hallway – it was still empty. After that I closed and locked the door before turning my attention back to Ashley.
How did she get here? My God, she didn't walk here did she, surely not in this weather!?
My thoughts raced and repeated that likely notion. Ashley was about the same size as me, and therefore there was no way she could have driven her car here. The gray equine seemed in a trance when I looked at her face that wasn't covered by her mane – Ash just stared listlessly at the floor.
And she was visibly shivering...
I snapped myself out of my ponderous thoughts. Okay, answers later, warmth and dryness first!
I retrieved a couple fresh towels, and spread one onto the couch bed, “Climb up here Ash,” I said worriedly. The words were also meant to not be a suggestion. After a moment's hesitation, she wordlessly climbed up the couch and onto the towel, resting her head on her outstretched forehooves.
I went to cover her with the second towel, when she shook her head once. At that I gave her a bemused, flat look; she relented, and didn't argue again when I covered her small body with the towel.
Okay, she would get dry soon, now I needed to work on the warmth part. I went to the pantry door, and grappled with the round knob. It took me a while, but finally my pincer-hoof grip managed to turn the damned thing and pull the door open. Inside was my rather limited pantry of canned foods and various cooking ingredients. Even though I preferred to make home-cooked meals, sometimes time constraints or just pure laziness would prevail; therefore I kept some quicker options on hand at all times.
“Would you like some soup?” I offered. Although, my tone suggested that it wouldn't be an option. If Ash didn't warm up soon, she might catch some cold or something.
She just laid there on the couch, in a sort of daze, and didn't seem to acknowledge my not-so questionable question.
I stared back at her, just momentarily unsure how to proceed. I was more than worried; Ashley hasn't acted like this in... well, as far as I could currently recall, ever. What's wrong with her? Did something happen? Why was Ashley acting like this? What could have caused her to brave this monsoon to come to me? All this and more swam in my head, and my heartbeat skyrocketed. I wanted to ask, right then and there, pry the truth out of her just to put my own mind at ease.
But I didn't; no matter how much I hated it, first thing's first. Instead I looked over the selection of canned soups, and picked one that I knew she would at least like a little: tomato. I bit the can's lip, and set it on the counter next to my dinky electric stove top. Fumbling underneath the cabinet, I grabbed the handle of a small saucepan in my mouth, then reared on the oven door to place it on an eye.
I stared at the can of condensed soup again. How the hell was I supposed to open this? It was a newer can, and had that easy-open tab, which gratefully eliminated the need to use my can opener. I guess I'd just have to use my teeth – again. I bent down to chomp on the little metal handle, bracing the tin cylinder with my forehooves.
My frustration grew each and every time as my teeth simply slipped off the damned tab. Then I realized that I didn't have the same teeth either. The sharper front teeth were replaced by flat, not-sharp ones. Damn it, if I had my old teeth I could have used them to get under the tab and wedge it up.
Wait... wedge... leverage. Another small flash of brilliance hit me.
I opened the small silverware drawer, and retrieved a butter knife with a wingtip. Just as what I attempted to do with my mouth, I wedged the knife's edge under the tab, and pressed the handle with my hoof.
Success! The tab popped up and broke the seal on the can. I bent down again after discarding the knife, and bit the metal handle and pulled. The rest of the lid snapped off without protest, and I threw the thing in the trash. My wing picked up the now-open can, and I leaned against the stove, then emptied the contents into the small pot.
I added a can's worth of tap water, and turned on the electric eye.
During that whole, arduous process, my right ear kept turning back in Ashley's direction. She hadn't made so much as a peep while I prepared the soup. This only increased my worry as I slowly walked up next to her, and tried to hide my concern behind a fake smile.
“Hey Ash,” I tried to get her attention.
Once more, she didn't respond to my words.
Oh dear. The utterly false smile disappeared. It must be bad.
I just sat there and watched her. Only her left eye was visible to me; the right was obscured by her green-striped black mane, and her lower face was buried underneath her forehooves. The one-eyed gaze was fixated on the fabric of the couch, as though each individual strand of fuzz was her world. Ashley looked so... miserable. Why? What could have happened that made her behave like that?
Cou-could it have been something I did or said...?
No, no it couldn't be, I scavenged my brain for every word I'd said and scrutinized every action I made. Even though I might not have been able to remember everything, I was able to recall the events of today in stark detail. And I didn't see anything that really stood out; or at least nothing that warranted this. That, and it didn't make sense; if she was mad or upset at me, then why would she come here, of all places?
Yet, I still felt this unjustified guilt; that Ashley feeling this way was somehow my fault. It simply broke my heart to see her like this. I had to do something.
I checked on the soup. It was nowhere near ready, and I knew it – the distraction was more to mentally prepare myself for what I wanted to do.
Next I walked back to the unchanged sight of the depressed Ashley, still laying down on my couch. I sat down on the floor, and waited for maybe a minute. When my impatience got the better of me, I lifted a hoof and placed it on hers, along with as bright a smile as I could muster.
It worked! Ashley's one visible eye turned in my direction; it must not have been enough visibility for her, as she slightly readjusted her head to look at me. My grin grew a bit more, and I added a little bit more pressure to her hoof.
I could have said it out loud, but I think my face got across the point that I wanted to help with whatever was bugging her. So desperately I wanted to help that it was almost all I could do to not blurt out and whine: 'Tell me!' The tension built in my head, and for some reason, some heat started to gather in my face – although it wasn't a blush for once.
Ashley decided to make some more significant movement, and fully lifted her head. Using the one hoof I wasn't 'holding', she wiped her mane out of her face; and now stared at me directly into my eyes with her own. Telltale movement showed me that her gaze shifted back and forth between my eyes.
Ashley let out a heavy sigh, and then wore a wan smile, “Breathe Sam...”
My vision blurred slightly as it dawned on me that I was holding my breath; I gasped, sucking in the air like a vacuum. Now I did blush after that little embarrassment, “Whoops!” I smiled shyly. Ashley chuckled softly at my expense – seems my 'plan' to loosen the tension worked.
“Is your soup ready...?” she asked.
“I'll check,” I squeezed her hoof gently, and went into the small kitchen.
The tomato soup was nice and warm, any longer and it would come to a boil and be too scaldingly hot to drink. I set the electric eye from 'high' to 'low', to prevent further heat build up. Using the dexterous wings again, I retrieved a pair of glasses from the dishes cupboard, along with a matching number of straws. Thankfully, the small pot, even though it was full of soup, wasn't much heavier than the food tray at the mall. I had little difficulty when I picked up the hand with my mouth and poured the soup. A little bit spilled when I tried to aim initially, but it wasn't more than a few drops.
One at a time, I carried the two full glasses over to the coffee table. I gave Ashley hers, which she gripped it between her hooves, while I let mine stay on the table, and just leaned over to sip the straw. As expected, the soup was perfectly warm when the crimson liquid slid down my throat. Better luck next time cold, hah!
For the next few minutes, we simply enjoyed our food. I wanted to continue the conversation right away, but felt it was more important that Ashley get warm first. Ugh, damn me and my concern! Since I was getting anxious, I finished my soup first, and waited (im)patiently for the gray unicorn.
One eternally, impossibly long minute later, Ashley slurped down the very last of her soup with a satisfied smile. She looked at me, and I waited.
And I waited...
And waited...
And I still waited...
My eye started to twitch, and just when I thought I would explode from my anticipation, Ashley cocked an eyebrow at me, and portrayed a sly smile. Oh damn it! She was egging me on! I swear she picked up more evilness from Marcus today. My friends suck.
I stared at her expectantly, keeping my face as straight as I could. Harder said than done when I knew she was trolling me.
Ashley's little smile disappeared, and she proceeded to stare at the cup while fiddling with it.
“Sam...” I perked my ears up, intent on catching every single word. “I...” Ash's words caught in her throat, and she frowned.
“It's okay,” I encouraged. “take your time...”
She thanked me with a small smile, and continued, “I...” although my encouragement did little. Over the next ten seconds, her lower lip quivered, and her eyes began to water. When she realized that tears were building, Ashley shut her eyes tight; added with that, her ears pasted back into her skull.
“Come on Ash,” I gently pressed her hoof again, and added my other hoof for even more emphasis. “It can't be that bad can it?”
Through squinted eyes, Ashley shot me a death glare. Oh, that was the wrong thing to say. At that moment, I wanted to add a second blood stain on my carpet by repeatedly slamming my head on the coffee table. Stupid!
“Sorry,” I apologized weakly.
That glare softened slightly, and turned that less-intense stare to the couch. Right now Ashley looked more angry than sad, but that depressing despair was still there with tears on the brink of falling.
I decided maybe I needed to be more direct, “Was it something I said earlier today?”
Ashley shook her head slowly.
“Was it what was said on the radio?”
Again, she swept her head back and forth. But her expression foretold that I was getting a little warmer.
“Was it about the clothes, or was it something mom said?”
That last statement seemed the most unlikely, but Ashley surprised me when her eyes narrowed venomously. M-my mother? But what could have been said? Ashley and her always got along whenever they were together. I felt a slight anger building in my chest at the thought.
“What did she say to you Ash.” I asked flatly, no longer being subtle.
Ashley muttered something, and I asked her to repeat. She didn't.
“Come on, you can tell me. Whatever Mom said couldn't have been justi – ”
I was cut off when Ashley pushed her face towards mine, “She didn't say anything okay!” the tears began in earnest as she stared me down. “It's not your mom, it's mine. My parents kicked me out Sam! They took one look at me and practically chased the 'monster-that-couldn't-possibly-be-their-daughter' right out the fucking door!” Halfway through the rant, she squinted her eyes closed and the tears flowed freely, and Ashley began to choke up. As her voice cracked, the bitterness, the despair, the anger was very evident in her tone.
This is what was tearing her apart.
I was in shock. Th-they really chased her away like that? I... I couldn't believe it. My jaw dropped as my brain tried to comprehend what my ears were reporting. This couldn't be real, this couldn't be right. Sure, her parents were a little on the snobbish and 'high-class' side, but this... I just could not believe it.
...After all, if one couldn't find solace in the love and comfort of their parents...
Speechlessly I recalled that worrying thought when my mother met her new equine 'son'. My fears, instead of coming to pass for me, materialized for Ashley instead. Her reaction had (partially) kept me together. Yeah, I did break down in tears, but not this way; not from despair.
I watched as Ashley broke down in open sobs, crying freely in her woes.
A few tears flew down my own cheeks, but I stayed silent.
Just like with the radio, when that broadcaster had indirectly called Ashley a freak, I didn't know what to say. Again, what could I say? The love of my life was denied the continuing, supposedly ever-lasting love and support of her parents – the people that are supposed to be closest in her life. There were simply no words that could even begin to heal such a grievous wound.
… then what was the point of even going on?...
I did the only thing I could. Softly, and as gently as I could, I wrapped my forehooves around her neck and shoulders. Almost immediately she embraced me in turn, and sobbed into my back. My body jerked as she repeatedly wailed. I caught snippets of words from her choked throat; all of it the same question of why didn't they love her anymore, cursing this ponification, or whatever it was, and finally with desperate wishes for things to go back to normal.
I felt so inadequate for this. I felt like there was nothing I could do for her, and it broke my heart.
Despite my blinds being closed, light penetrated through the slightly swaying slats that separated my one room studio from the rest of the world. And thanks to where I chose to sleep last night, those rays shot right towards my eyes.
Ugh, I groaned, and cracked my sleepy eyes open a bit, and used a forehoof to stem the intrusion. After a moment I stared at the hoof, realizing that it still was a hoof.
Well, I frowned. So much for hoping to be transformed back to normal in the morning.
I released another silent yawn and glanced at the clock – it read: 6:24 A.M.
Again, I groaned and rolled my eyes. Did becoming a weird pony creature also make me a morning pers – er, pony? This must have been a world record as far as I was concerned; waking up, twice in a row, before nine o'clock in the morning. Wow, just... wow.
I snuggled back down into the folded comforter that made my improvised bed, intent on wasting a few more hours on sleep.
Last night, after Ashley had surprised me by showing up at my door at half past one, and revealed that shocking revelation, I stayed by her side. I held that initial hug, which was my only response at the time, until Ashley had worn herself out. The emotional turmoil combined with the physical walk over here must have exhausted her completely; she fell asleep in my arms, and occasionally sobbed as I gently laid her to rest on my couch-bed hybrid.
When I had removed myself from her grasp, she had whimpered in her sleep, “No... don't leave me... please...” she was definitely asleep, but must have sensed that I wasn't immediately by her side anymore.
I toyed with the idea of sleeping up there with her, the unicorn's head resting on my back with me being an improvised security pillow. But the thought of the awkwardness – and knowing that I would have had to wake her up unintentionally – kept me from seriously pursuing the idea. I didn't want her to think it was some kind of intrusive advance or something; I mean, I doubted that she would see it that way, but in my mind the risk was too great. I had a real chance here now, or at least I thought I did, and I didn't want to ruin it before it could get started.
It pained me to do so, but it had to be done. I had made my improvised bed by folding up an old comforter into a square in the kitchen, but not before I retrieved a family quilt for Ashley. The towels had helped to dry her significantly, but tonight was a cold night, and she would need that warmth.
I lay on my side, trying to ease myself back into oblivion...
But, damn it, just like yesterday sleep wouldn't come. I must have laid there, my hooves curled underneath me, and my head resting on the soft comforter, for maybe five minutes.
I took a deep breath and a sighed, then slowly removed myself from the impromptu bed. Standing upright, I stretched similarly to how a cat would; lowing my front down to the ground while thrusting my rear in the opposite. Then reversed that position, my joints cracked a few times in the process. Of their own will, my wings also unfolded and reached for the ceiling. The muscle tension felt so good as they pulled and went taught, and I repeated that process once more.
No wonder cats do that so often, I thought rather cheerfully in my splendor. It feels so good.
Aware that Ashley was still asleep, I tip-hoofed as silently as I could to the bathroom when I was done stretching like a feline.
I postured in front of that mirror again, and stared at myself. My pony self. My two toned brown mane was still in a ponytail braid, and I smirked at the irony of a ponytail. Not completely sure why, I just did. I caressed the braid with a forehoof; it felt so different having long hair. All my life I had hair no longer than about half an inch, and literally overnight I'd gained as much as... what?... several inches approximately... at least; maybe even as much as a foot.
When I was done with the mane, I ran my hoof along my cheeks, as well as underneath my 'chin'. The fur was soft... very soft. Too damn soft. I rubbed my cheek even harder, until it became slightly uncomfortable, while I pondered this revelation. The only thing my brain connected such softness to was marshmallows...
I froze, and stared wide-eyed at myself in the mirror. What the hell was I thinking!?
I blinked, “Marshmallows...” I said, then half chuckled. I recalled something goofy that Marcus said yesterday...
“Right now, I wouldn't be surprised if it started raining chocolate milk from cotton candy clouds.”
I smirked and shook my head, the mirror mimicked my every motion. He's such a goof, but Marcus is also such a nice guy. He does a great deal for Ashley and I, and I couldn't help but admire that. There were so few people in the world like him, and I'm just so lucky to have hi –
Whoa!
I froze those thoughts as a huge blush incinerated my face.
Whoa, whoa, WHOA! Hold it right there buster! My eye twitched uncontrollably, ears folded back and... there was this disturbingly hilarious look of disgust and shock that stared back at me in the mirror. I held that gaze for maybe a second before my psyche cracked, and I started chuckling at myself. Oh God! That face! My face!
A few moments of fits of poorly muffled laughter later, and I again went to staring at myself, a mild grin replaced my old grimace. Once more I took a mental step back and examined myself. It was still new, but could that have been a random mood swing? I couldn't really tell. At the moment I couldn't recall having instances where my thoughts cascaded like that.
I sighed, and closed my eyes to take several deep breaths, my focus on the expansion and recession of my fur covered chest. Focus. Focus is what I need. For that I needed routine. What did I do in the mornings, or rather, whenever I decided to get my lazy butt out of bed, usually?
It dawned on me that I hadn't brushed my teeth since yesterday – blegh; that explains the rancid, pasty feeling in my mouth, which I somehow missed until just now. I licked my lips in response, and made what I thought looked like an icky face; and had to control another grin that tried to escape.
Plan formulation time! Yay.
I reached over the counter top and bit the head of my tooth brush, then deposited the tiny piece of plastic and nylon on the counter. The medicine cabinet was directly above me, I reached up with my left hoof and opened the mirrored storage space – and grimaced. Why did I keep the toothpaste on the top shelf? Oh, that's right, I used to be a six-foot tall human being.
I snorted at myself before trotting back into the kitchen. Underneath the table, I had some four-legged, rectangular stools that acted as extra seating for company and such. I hooked my hoof around one of the stool's legs, and began dragging the thing towards the bathroom. Thankfully the thing didn't make any obnoxious noise, which allowed a sleeping-like-a-rock Ashley to continue to snooze away. This became evident as the pony ears twitched and twisted at the subtle snoring noises she was making (I failed to suppress a d'aw).
Somehow it didn't cross my mind that I was creepily staring at Ashley again. Watching her sleep on her side like that, gray, fur covered hooves partially draped over the side of the bed. The way her eyes looked, closed tight with none of the tell-tale subtle movement of consciousness. I smiled, and thought about how peaceful she looked; that was a great thing in and of itself because it meant Ashley was either having some mildly pleasant dreams, or none at all. I was worried that she'd have some form of nightmare or night terror because of what had happened.
In that pause, I noticed that the blanket had been partially shrugged off. I moved over to her side quietly, and took the hem in my mouth. With a gentle tug, I stretched the quilt up to the base of her chin. As a reward, her cracked open maw closed, and transformed into a contented smile; adorably, she snuggled down under the quilt, and moaned softly.
Awww...
I could have just stood there and watched her sleep all day, buuut that would have been very creepy, and hard to explain. So, I went back and finished scooting the stool into the bathroom.
Climbing the damned thing was extremely difficult. I ran back into my rut the previous day of falling over and over. Every time when I thought I had a good hold, my hoof would slip, and thanks to lack of any way to grasp, I would immediately plummet into the bathroom floor.
“Arrugh!” I growled when I landed on my back for the umpteenth time. In a momentary fit of rage, I flailed all four legs angrily in the air while shouting a litany of just about every curse I knew. This was utterly ridiculous! How the fucking hell am I supposed to adapt to this!? The answer was just beyond me.
Frustration burning away at my face, I unfurled my wings and propelled myself upwards, trying to land on the stool like a helicopter pad. In my haste, I nearly toppled the whole thing over when I folded my wings back down and fell.
“Whoaa –!!” the stool and I wobbled precariously, tumbling back and forth for several seconds. None of the tilting leans went so far as to topple – but damn that was close!
I heaved a sigh of relief, glad that I didn't fall over. I reached up with my wing, and deftly grasped the tube of toothpaste – at least that was easy. After hopping off the stool and scooting the thing back into the kitchen I grasped the tube lightly in my hooves, and bit the cap. I rolled my jaw with the cap in my teeth, trying to be as gentle as I possibly could. That last thing I needed was squirting myself in my overly large cartoon pony eyes with toothpaste!
Fortunately the thing came off without incident, and I replaced the now cap-less tube on counter, nudging it closer to the tooth brush with my nose. The position looked right, and I steadied the tiny plastic handle with my left hoof.
“Okay,” I tried to assert some confidence in this crazy new task. “just a little pressure should do it...” I pressed lightly on the container... nothing came out. Applying a little more pressure yielded no result either. What is this, toothpaste or concrete? Urgh. I frowned at what seemed like some kind of cruel cosmic joke.
All right, to hell with subtlety... I rose my hoof high, and brought it down with force. Surely the paste was just being a little stubborn.
Well, the stuff came out all right... it even landed right on the brush head.... and handle... and the counter top... and my hoof as well.
Damn it...
I groaned, and hung my head on the counter, swimming in my thoughts. Honestly, adapting to being a pony must be the hardest thing ever! Hooves instead of hands. So short that I can barely see over the dash of a car. And of course the fact I currently have no clothes! Strength cut in half, at least. Hell, not even a guy anymore. I think the only thing that didn't change was my age.
I sighed again... and finally felt the sticky goo on my forehead.
Oh, don't tell me...
I looked up at the mirror, and stared bemusedly at myself.
I did...
My forehead was covered in the minty green goop, and the bangs of my mane were infested as well.
Wonderful, I thought. Just... wonderful.
It's gonna be another one of those days...
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
I walked out of the steamy bathroom after washing, towel wrapped in my mane and tail. Wings definitely made the job easier manipulating the towels. And managed to clean up that mess after a few attempts.
“That's much better!” I said aloud, glad to be rid of that pasty feeling my mouth as well as having a clean forehead.
“What is?”
“Gyah!” I nearly jumped out of my fur when Ashley answered my statement as she stared at me. “Oh, you're awake... uh... sleep well?” I asked awkwardly, and suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment as my face heated. Damn it face!
She cocked an eye brow at me, but she chose not to ask, instead replying with, “Yes, just fine...”
Ashley didn't look so sure in her statement though, I could see it in her eyes as they stared at the floor downcast, along with her folded back ears. Instantly I recalled the events of the night before, how Ashley informed me that her parents had chased her away. My own head reacted; my ears mostly, bending back like Ashley's were right now.
“Are you...” I coughed and cleared my throat. Was this the right time to even ask this? Guess I'll find out. “Are you... doing okay?”
Her sad gaze melted away and she stared at me flatly. Wow, what's with me and saying the wrong thing at the wrong time? I cringed back and hastily apologized. For the longest time I just stood there and she just continued to stare at me. Finally Ashley decided to break the silence.
“Would you mind if I used the shower?”
“No, of course not. All yours.” I stepped aside for emphasis.
She stopped right next to me, our eyes locked on one another. Ashley smiled warmly, and hugged a hoof around my neck, “Thanks Sam...”
“Er, I, uh... no problem?” I stammered pathetically as my face burned... again. And was it just me, or was my voice slightly squeakier than usual? I thought about that a moment, and mentally facehooved. Usual; I honestly thought the new voice was usual. Urgh. Everything I did, I said, or I thought was a constant reminder.
Ashley trotted into the bathroom and closed, and locked, the door. A few minutes later, I heard the water start, and went to lay down on my couch. Once more I nosed down on the changer, and turned on the T.V.
I smiled as I saw the same news mare from before. Seems like they weren't going to fire or let her go because of what happened. Although the anchor man still seemed slightly... what? I wasn't sure what his thoughts were, but they were not 'I am okay with this'. He seemed unsure, and that was putting it lightly. It kind of annoyed me really; I mean yeah, this is weird and new and stuff, but she's still the same person.
The news was really mostly the same as yesterday. Reports and statistics on the car crashes, the injured and death numbers – which I tried hard to ignore. I really, really didn't want that on my mind today. That was the worst part of it, but all of the news was still just sad and bad. All of it was minor stuff, but even so it was like days where one thing after another happens, and they simply build up.
I flipped the channel, practically desperate for something else to watch that wouldn't dampen my mood so damn much. Flipping was slow, as I couldn't watch the screen and press the button at the same time anymore. I nosed the button for what felt like the hundredth time – and paused as a familiar musical tone made my fuzzy ears twitch, my attention drawn like piece of metal to a magnet.
It was that show Marcus and Shelby liked so much. The ones with the ponies that I so eerily resembled. My eye twitched as the girlie music played and the smiling characters trotted around the screen. I blinked as I tried to comprehend the appeal the show had for someone like Marcus. It made sense that my little sister loved it, she was young and a girl, but Marcus? I just don't know, and once more, I'm not sure I wanted to know.
But...
It was a pretty cheery show. It was better than watching the depressing news right now. I settled back against the couch and relaxed to watch their crazy antics. I had no idea who the characters were, but I saw the orange one with the stetson hat working herself to death on some farm. Laughed when she catapulted the rainbow one clear across town, and cringed as she misheard all the ingredients the pink one with the crazy hairdo said as they made cupcakes – and made half the town sick as a result. Wow, it was... pretty entertaining...
I blinked, and my smile waned.
Did I... did I just admit to...?
A knock came to the door, and it jarred my brain from its current train of thought. Thank god.
I shrugged off the towels and hopped off the bed. No longer did I bother with the security chains – they were a pain in a butt to undo now. The door swung open and I was greeted by Marcus standing there with his usual grin.
“Wassup Sam,” he greeted.
“Not much,” I casually said as I craned my neck to look up at him.
My friend entered as I stepped aside. I busied myself closing the door again as Marcus sat down on the chair.
He eyed the screen then looked at me, “I thought you didn't like this show?”
Well, that caught me off guard, “Um,” I stammered needlessly. “I don't, there was just nothing else on.” That was only partially true; there was plenty on, but the music just caught my attention, and I wanted something happy to distract from the negative news.
Nonetheless he cocked an eyebrow at me and smirked coyly, “Oh you don't huh?” Marcus teased as he crossed his arms and sat back.
I stared flatly at him, but didn't respond.
Marcus blinked, and stared at the bathroom, then back to me with a quizzical expression on his face. I blankly stared back, and had no idea what he was getting at. Call me dense, but whatever was puzzling him was just lost on me. He jerked a thumb at the bathroom, and my ear twitched at the still running water.
Oh...
“Ashley's here,” I plainly stated.
Marcus blinked, then mouthed the words.
I nodded to confirm, and repeated, “Ashley is here.”
“I... didn't see her car? How did she get here? And when?” he asked, his eyes locked on my face for answers.
“She showed up last night at around one thirty in the morning,” I started the story, and went on to describe what transpired. That I think she must have walked or galloped to get here – which was confirmed by him not seeing her car. How she told me that her parents shooed her away. During that part of the conversation, Marcus's face turned grim, and he clasped his hands in front of his face as he contemplated this.
At the conclusion my own eyes drifted to watch the floor in silence.
“I see,” Marcus said simply, then groaned. “I can't believe they would do that to her! I mean, she's still their daughter! Where's she supposed to go!?” Marcus raised his voice and he looked outraged by the very idea. It drew my own gaze from the floor as he continued, “Come on! This pony thing doesn't change that! What is wrong with those people!?” he concluded his rant by smacking his palm into his face.
I completely agreed, but his outburst surprised me. Marcus never got that upset at anything, so seeing him act out like that was just... weird. He was always so calm and collected, but obviously Ashley's treatment got to him in a big way.
It caught me so off guard, that I nearly fell over; I had been leaning away from him so much that my balance was nearly gone. Marcus must have realized my shock, because when he glanced my way he visibly tried to calm himself.
He sighed, then exasperatedly apologized, “Sorry, but this kind of stuff just boils my blood...” he shrugged nonchalantly.
I blinked and re-steadied myself on my hooves, “Same here, but I don't think getting pissed off about it is going to do anything. And besides, she won't end up on the streets. So long as I have a roof over my head, Ashley, and you, have somewhere to go.” I hardened my gaze slightly as I smiled, “I won't let my friends go on the streets.”
I almost regretted that statement when that thought came to my head. Would I still have a roof over my head? The fact of whether I could do my job or not still hung in my mind. Sure, I thought that maybe it wouldn't be a problem earlier, but the fact was that I just didn't know. I'd have to wait until I actually showed up to work and tried.
With that dark shadow over my head, I tried to change the subject, desperate for a different topic, “So, what brings you here?”
“Oh,” Marcus had been staring at me intently, my question jarred him from some thought. “Well I was hoping to take you out somewhere...” he trailed off as I stared flatly at him – and my damned face blushed again! Wa-was he asking out on a... what the fuck!
“What!?” I nearly screeched in disgust.
“No!” he waved his hands defensively while shaking his head vehemently. “No, no, no! Not that kind of out! I meant getting you things to make life a little easier!” He rolled his eyes.
Oh, that made a lot more sense. That would have been extremely weird.
“Not that it'd be something I wouldn't mind doing...” he said with a smirk as he looked at me.
A pillow suddenly soared through the air and smacked him upside the face, and he recoiled backwards into the chair, laughing the whole time.
Jackass...
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
Marcus and I cruised down the city streets in his black SUV, the world scooting by at a rapid pace. Or at least it would have appeared that way, if I could see anything but just the cloudy sky. Car trips are now extra boring now that I was too short to look through the window. Damn it.
“So,” I decided to break the silence. “where are we going again?” I looked over at the sunglasses wearing man.
“It's a secret,” he hummed the last word demurely, taunting me with hidden knowledge.
I huffed in my seat and crossed my forelegs as my suspicion grew. I've already had enough secrets kept to last me a damned lifetime. Why couldn't he just tell me? Surely it was just going to some generic store or something; why did it have to be a secret?
“I'm a little surprised Ashley didn't want to come...” Marcus said with a frown, his voice laced with disappointment.
We had waited patiently for the unicorn to get herself out of the bathroom. I guessed that it was her first time drying off in the awkward manner, and I was right; she exited with herself still mostly wet and draped in towels. Marcus had generously offered to help dry her. Ashley initially refused, but gave up when she couldn't quite get it herself.
Once that was done, he proposed another day out, with some kind of plan in mind. My crush had politely declined, which made me kind of want to say no as well; I wanted to stay with her and make sure she was okay and wouldn't try something stupid. She had guessed at my thoughts, and simply said she'd be okay. I still argued and wanted to remain, but Marcus got impatient. He had scooped me up in his arms and carried me out the door. My shock only wore off when fresh air came in to contact with my furry face, and I almost didn't register Ashley's laughter, but he didn't set me down until we were at the car.
“Yeah, I guess...” I pouted, still upset at him for carrying me like some medium sized dog or something. The action poked at my dignity, and I felt my temper rise again. “I can walk on my own thank you...” I side glanced bemusedly at the driver, and growled slightly.
“Well, Sam,” he said flatly as he concentrated on the road. “as much as you may not like it, things have changed. The sooner this transition is done, the better things will get.” Marcus gave me a concerned look before placing his attention back on the road. “This thing might possibly be permanent...” he trailed off.
His words sunk into my stomach like a sack of stones. What if this was permanent? I stared at my forehooves again, and wondered if I'd ever see palms in their place. I didn't want to stay like this forever! I wanted my old self back! Life as a small, techni-colored pegasus... mare... from some little girl's show was not appealing! My head grew heavy as my ears folded back at the depressing thoughts.
I felt a massive hand engulf my left shoulder, and glanced at it. He was doing it again, trying to keep me from spiraling down a never ending abyss. A small smile tugged at my muzzle as I continued to gaze sadly at the floor. Totally didn't want to imagine dealing with this alone, and I again felt lucky to have him and Ashley.
“Thanks...” I muttered, more or less better.
“Any time,” Marcus answered, and the car lurched as it came to a stop and the engine died. “well, we're here!”
I poked at the seat-belt's button and the leather strap rose past my head, then I reared up on the dash on my hind legs to look out the window.
We were in a parking lot, maybe half the size of the one at the mall. It was a strip mall, a large, single story complex that had multiple segregated stores and restaurants. They contained all the usual, a grocery store, some book and game outlets, shoe store... but there was one that held my gaze and made my eye twitch.
A PetSmart.
He brought me to a pet store.
I twisted my head to give him an incredulous look, “A pet store?” I all but spat the words, then growled through my teeth, “Marcus, I am not a pet!” I glared at him as he still sat in the driver's seat.
“Yeah, and,” he said coolly as he removed his glasses. “it has things that will make your life easier.... as I just got through explaining. Now stop being such a foal and let's go.”
I glared at his back as he exited the car, and sighed exasperatedly as I manipulated the car handle in the same manner as yesterday. Jumping out and bracing the door shut, I followed him into what I considered to be a most degrading venture.
We entered the store, the sliding glass doors parting as a blast of cool air condition made my long hair dance, and immediately I was assaulted by the stench of a pet store. Or anywhere that sells pet related stuff, whether it was PetSmart that sold only pet related junk, or the dedicated section in a more generic store. There were some patrons around, with their pets as well; mostly cats and dogs from the little rat chihuahuas and other medium sized pets, there was one golden retriever that was just a bit larger than me! I almost cringed behind Marcus at the sight. Some dogs didn't like me, and I did not want to become a chew toy!
I nearly eeped when the mutt growled at me. His owner apologized profusely, and we just rubbed it off as no harm, no foul. Although I started keeping a wary eye and a large berth on every animal that was half my size or larger.
We moved about the store as Marcus looked this way and that; I just followed, since I didn't want to be here in the first place. He picked up a plastic bottle, and I had to ask.
“What's that stuff?”
“A shampoo that's supposed to keep ticks and flees away,” Marcus replied while he read something on the back of the bottle.
My eyes briefly widened. I craned my neck to stare at my orange hide; flees and ticks would suck, no, they'd be unbearable. Constantly biting and scratching and itching... ugh! That was a very good idea. With that in mind I didn't care that it was meant for dogs...
Well... almost didn't mind; the thought of using dog stuff was still a little degrading.
We walked around for a little bit, Marcus gazing up at various other things, but he didn't appear to make any more solid decisions. I was a mite busy watching the other pets pass by with wary eyes. One lady commented on Marcus having an unusual dog – and I scowled at her while he laughed. A store clerk came up to us shortly thereafter and asked why I wasn't on a leash...
Okay! That was it!
“I'm not on a leash,” I started off calm and cool, with a friendly smile, and then rapidly raised my voice and let the grin give way to an annoyed grimace. “because I'm not his fucking pet!” I glared up at the store clerk, and he hurriedly walked away.
I snorted at his departure, and stared flatly back up at Marcus, asking without words: Can we please leave now?
He seemed to read my mind – or my obvious facial expression – and said, “Hang on, I wanna check out a couple more things...” I let him walk off to another part of the store, as I decided to look around myself since I couldn't do much else.
I trotted around the store, feeling pretty indifferent now about all this pet stuff, just trying to distract myself from the fact that I was essentially an animal in said pet store. I maneuvered down the general care aisle, and did a double take, then backpedaled a few steps. In my vision was a flat fur brush with a wide handle and a strap. Recalling the old hair comb, and how difficult it was to use the damned thing, I sat in front of its display. With a hoof and a wing, I put the brush on my wrist; it fit comfortably, and with a few shakes I confirmed that it wouldn't slide off easily or move around.
I stood back up, still staring at the brush, and read from the box. It was supposed to be suited for both long hair and short fur. Supposed to easily and painlessly remove tangles, loose hairs, etcetera from your pet's coat, while relaxing and massaging them. I hummed, and looked from the printed box to the demo on my hoof. Was it really that good?
That awkwardness washed over me, and I looked back and forth down the aisle – I was alone, no humans or pets or ponies staring at me – for now. This felt wrong somehow, that I was about to use something meant for a dog or cat on myself. Yes, my body was a weirdo pony creature now, but still...
I frowned as I thought about Marcus calling me a foal again, and sat back down to stroke my other foreleg.
And the strangest sensation trickled from my limb as the brush traveled from shoulder to wrist, and I involuntarily gasped delightfully. Wow, it really did feel good. It was soft, soothing, and my arm practically melted in its embrace. Why aren't human brushes this good!? Pets are spoiled, no doubt about it.
Another test was needed. I raised the brush to my mane, and began stroking slow and smooth.
For lack of a better word, I was blown away. The sensation on my scalp was almost heavenly as the beyond soft, but still firm, bristles gently tugged out knots and straightened my mane. My ears folded back, and I nearly purred – but I hardly noticed. The thing that did catch my attention and made me stop – but not until after several brushes – was the repeated clopping of my rear hoof on the linoleum floor, and my wings unfurling.
Um, okay, I was enjoying this way too much. I hurriedly checked the aisle again as a fierce blush broke out on my face. There was a dog staring at me, his head cocked to the side with a floppy ear perked up.
I stared back with my unnatural, yet natural, eyes, and muttered weakly, “Well, it does feel good...” I had to admit. I glanced back at the dog with a weak smile.
The dog did a strange motion, his shoulders moving up in a shrug, and he nodded twice.
My eyes pinpricked as I stared at him again in shock. Di-did he just understand me?
I pointed a hoof at him, “Can you,” then pointed that hoof at me, “understand me?” I finished and waited, giving my utmost attention to the canine.
He cocked an eyebrow, and nodded again.
Thud.
Oh my God! I can understand animals! And they understand me!
Every previous concept of reality and how it was supposed to work, what little left there was, just got flushed down the toilet with that. What, did life take cues from Dr. Dolittle now too!? Ugh, I need a drink...
Frazzled by... I can't even think about it right now... I grabbed a box of the brush and hurried my way down the aisle, eager to find Marcus and leave before the Nutty Professor or Ace Ventura showed up. I glanced nervously at the occasional pet around the store and... some of them gave me what looked like quizzical looks. Gyah! I'm starting to feel like Alice in friggin' wonderland here! Now I'm sure of it; I am crazy!
I chuckled out loud as I felt a bead of sweat drip down my temple, “It's all in your head Sam,” I chanted, trying to hold on to sanity, “It is all in your head!” a crooked smile played on my face. Right, and the fact that you’re a pony, with wings... and the opposite sex... over night... out of the blue...
I suddenly felt very tired as my eyelids grew heavy, the stress and anxiety sapping me of my strength. I'd managed to trance myself so much that I was in a completely different part of the store. Things for larger animals, such as travel cages and those padded tower things that cats use, decorated an open area where things too bulky for the shelf were displayed. And there were several basket beds that I recognized from the houses of relatives that had larger dogs. I wonder...
I trotted onto a small expanse with fake green grass, and paused. The phony greenery felt so weird, even foreign, and it brought an involuntary frown to my face. I really didn't like this stuff, for some reason, and suddenly craved to have the real thing under my hooves. My wings gave an irritated flap before I continued up to the bed as I tried my damnedest to ignore that annoyance.
As suspected, it was a large woven basket with a very comfy and puffy looking red and blue checkered pillow lining; a poke with my hoof confirmed it – the bed was very soft as the material readily gave way, but offered slight resistance. I thought back to last night and how I'd slept on the folded comforter; it was not a very good substitute for my couch bed. And if memory serves, the hybrid itself wasn't that great either... and if my suspicion was right, Ashley would be with me for a while. Maybe I should...?
I scoffed and snorted at the thought as my head straightened. My gaze turned to the brush held in my wing. It was bad enough I was getting the, admittedly awesome, brush, but the bed? It again felt so wrong to be thinking this way! I was about to walk away when it dawned on me that I was being ridiculous again. It wasn't a made decision yet, and it wouldn't hurt to just try it. Right?
I smiled wanly, and set the comb next to the basket, “Nah, it won't hurt.”
Easily I stepped my way into the basket. Already there was the plus of not having to leap like an athlete just to get into bed. Again I prodded with a hoof, testing the cushion's softness, and it felt almost like a stiff cotton candy – which would still be really soft. The oval shape meant I would have to adjust my position, and I circled inside a couple times, trying to judge where would be best before I plopped myself down. When I did, the wave of comfort was immediate, and I sighed in relief as my eyes closed, a warm smile on my face. Damn, pets really are spoiled; how come nothing humans make for themselves feel this good? Or at the very least, nothing cheap. I took a peak at the price tag, and this thing was a mere thirty dollars.
Pondering this while I laid there, a plethora of thoughts crossed my mind. If this really was a permanent thing, then buying the pet versions of things might be significantly cheaper. This bed was the perfect example. My hybrid/couch cost over three hundred – I think – while this thing was a tenth of that cost. I didn't pay attention to the price of that shampoo Marcus was undoubtedly still toting around, but in all likelihood the hair and fur care product would be bought for a song by comparison. I didn't know anything about fancy salon brushes, or the least little thing about what the professional stylists used, but the comb that was lying at the base of the basket was undoubtedly less expensive.
Alarmingly quickly my thoughts began to fog as my body relaxed, and practically melted, into the bed, and I drifted off to sleep. The last motion I felt was my tail as it curled up to my left side. And like the last nail in a coffin, I crossed the threshold.
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
I grumbled unhappily as something attempted to steal my sleep away. My body was moving, and I felt the soft jostling as I rocked in the bed.
Damn it, I thought with irritation, and as a result my closed eyes squinted shut. Five more minutes...
There was another slight jar, and the movement utterly halted. My ear twitched as, seconds later, the sound of the creak of wood from added weight resounded from behind me... and then nothing else. I waited intently while I debated whether to just go back to sleep. Eventually though, I came to the conclusion I should get up...
Wow, how very unlike me. I hate getting up...
Displeased as can be, I cracked my eyes open, and was greeted with an almost familiar sight.
The fake grass was still there, as were the rows of metal shelving that displayed the store's product for sale, but it was farther away and smaller slightly. I frowned as my eyes opened fully, with several blinks to come to complete focus. My muzzle yawned as I brought my head up, and then I rubbed my foreleg over my eyes. That was a good nap.
I sensed eyes on me, and turned my head to the left. Marcus was sitting on the bench with me and the bed, staring at me with a cocked eye brow and a smirk. Our eyes connected, and I realized what he had caught me doing. Well, it wasn't 'caught' as in I did something wrong, but just a 'well, this is embarrassing' kind of caught. So, in response, I blushed.
“Getting comfy are we?” his smirk widened.
“Uh, I, er...” I stammered pathetically as my ears pasted, and I looked around for some kind of excuse or distraction. Naturally there was nothing I could call on to divert attention from the fact that I was sleeping in a dog's bed. Urgh...
I sighed in resignation, “Okay, fine, you caught me,” I held my hooves up, like I was ready for the cuffs, “This bed is very comfortable.” I eyed the bed somewhat affectionately.
He tilted his head a little, “Do you want it?”
Again, I am conflicted. I do want it, but it's a pet thing! The shampoo was kind of understandable, what with the fur coat, and flees; my spine shivered at the thought of the tiny, annoying insects biting me all over. And in a way, the shampoo was a need, not a want like the bed and the comb. That, and it'd be another step as accepting this thing as permanent; and that was the last thing I wanted. I needed to go back to being the old Sam, not staying this new pony pegasus thing.
“Well...” I was still debating, and my voice reflected that uncertainty as my forehooves slowly rubbed circles on the fabric, and my eyes looked distantly at nothing.
Doing what he did best, Marcus seemed to read my very thoughts, “We'll keep the receipt. The return policy is good for, like, ninety days or something like that. Besides, if you change back after that time, then you're only out thirty bucks...” he gestured nonchalantly with his hand. “but, as I said before, we need to keep in mind that this may be permanent.”
I sighed deeply as he finished that sentence. The 'p' word again...
Knowing that he was right, and that I really wanted it, I nodded my head without a word.
He motioned that he was ready to go, and I hopped off the basket bed. Marcus picked up one that was still in the box, while I retrieved the comb. He saw me grab it, and smiled approvingly while I shied away a bit. I mentally checked myself, and wondered why I was being so uptight about this. I groaned, and decided not to think about it. Marcus walked off towards the registers while I lagged behind a bit, just considering my thoughts...
… when a strange beeping noise caught my attention.
My ear swiveled and twitched as I walked, as though it was confused. It sounded close, but at the same time several yards away. What the hell?
I turned my head in the direction I thought it was coming from, “Hey, Marcus, do you hear a weird beepi – ?”
I was cut off as an electric surge burst into my body from my neck, and I yelped in mild pain as my body seized and fell to the floor, twitching slightly. Augh! What the fuck!?
I glanced around with my eyes close to tears – what the hell just assaulted me!? One second I'm walking, minding my own business, and then I get a damned electric shock! I looked around frantically, not sure whether or not whatever it was would come back and attack again – when a faint red light caught my attention. It was planted on the very corner of the fake grass, and it looked kind of like one of those solar powered outdoor lamp things.
I squinted at the thing as it beeped, “What the...?”
The rhythmic beep went solid, and I yelped out as another electric shock advanced down from my neck. “Ack!” I scrambled away towards the bench, and eyed the thing in fear and confusion. The red light winked out and went solid blue.
Then it dawned on me what the thing was. The little tower thing was a motion detector, and it made some kind of perimeter. That was confirmed when I looked at the other three corners, and found identical sentinels – all of them with a solid blue light on. It was one of those high tech fencing systems to keep pets in a contained area.
My brows furrowed. But, those things only work if the pet wears a...
My eyes widened and I rose a forehoof to my neck – and felt the nylon weaving of a Velcro collar and a small metal control box.
I blinked as my jaw dropped. What the fuck...?
Snickering caught my ear's attention, and I turned to find Marcus stifling laughter with his free hand. Oh, I should have known! He must have snuck the damned thing on my neck before moving me on to the bench! Oh I'm going to kill him dead!
“Marcus!” I yelled out as my face went red and my eyes screamed murder.
He laughed out loud and covered his forehead with a hand, “I'm sorry! It was just, oh man, I couldn't resist!”
I clenched my teeth in righteous anger, “Get. This. Off of me!”
Still laughing, he strode over and set down the purchases we were going to make, and promptly removed the collar from my neck. As I glared at him, it took every ounce of self control not to buck his teeth in right then and there, while he was within easy reach. Marcus knew he was in danger, and quickly put some distance between me and him.
“Not too mad,” he asked with his shit-eating grin. “are ya?”
I answered his question by narrowing my eyes dangerously. Yes, I am mad!
He rubbed the back of his head, while still grinning, “Okay, maybe that was a bit much...”
“Ya think!?” I nearly bellowed as I got to my hooves, and my wings twitched on my back.
“Eh, I regret nothing...” he chuckled, and once more made his way to the registers. “I'll make it up by buying this stuff for you.”
I followed along as my anger and annoyance dulled. As we traveled, murderous thoughts crossed my mind as I considered bucking him as hard as I could in the back, or using my flight speed and momentum to body slam him. In the end my fury just cooled too quick. I did not consider it funny at all, but I guess that that kind of retribution would have been a little excessive. Maybe I'll overdose his food some time with hot sauce or something. Kicking him in the back might cause severe injury, and the collar, while it hurt like a bitch, it did not cause me real harm other than a bruised ego... and maybe a slight decline in dignity.
I'll get him back.... count on it!
There was a small line at checkout, and the cashier went on break right as we came up. Moments later, an extremely unexpected replacement came up.
Another pony stepped up with a PetSmart vest that was a size too large. Red coat with a two toned orange mane; just behind the counter I could make out a matching, frizzy tail swishing back and forth. She smiled wanly as she climbed up what I assumed was a wooden stool behind the count, and she had vibrant emerald green eyes.
“Welcome to PetSmart!” She greeted warmly, and asked us if we found everything okay. I was blown away by her professionalism. 'Yep, I'm a pony, what of it?' basically. Then again I suppose that working a job dealing with customers all the time, it wasn't that hard to do. I'd have to do the same when I went back to work.
Marcus said hello, and held up the large, bulky bed for her to scan. A feathery appendage picked up the scan gun wired to the checkout computer... and I gawked. Another pegasus! For some reason this made me smile, and I decided to spark up conversation.
“So, have you tried to fly yet,” I asked, and caught her name tag. “Amanda?”
At first she didn't seem to know where the voice was coming from, as she twisted her red ears and head, trying to find the source. Dumb shortness. I waved up an orange forehoof, and she smiled once I caught her attention. “Oh, no, not yet, but I'm not so sure I would want to. I've always liked running... but...” she shrugged and held up her forehooves indifferently.
There was a grumble from behind us, and I turned to look. I barely caught the words as some old man with balding gray hair and glasses said something about not being checked out by a farm animal. I gave him an outraged stare.
“And what is that supposed to mean!?” I tersely announced my displeasure at his comment.
He grumbled something else about dirty animals, and began to walk away.
“Oh yeah?” I stomped my forehooves on the linoleum, and lifted my wings slightly. “How about you say that to my face, you old fart!”
He briefly paused before grumbling unintelligently, then continued towards the door. Jeez! What is with these people!?
I turned back towards Amanda, and the red mare had her eyes downcast, a frown splayed on her muzzle and her ears back. She left out a heavy sigh, and continued to wordlessly, and miserably, check us out. My ears twisted towards the old man's voice as he talked to a thin, dark skinned man with a business tie on. Oh seriously!? That old coot is complaining to the manager!? My blood began to boil.
I watched out of the corner of my eye. The old man was seething, and I inwardly smirked. The manager was calm and cool, trying to console the old bastard. Eventually he rubbed his hand on his forehead, and I heard him politely ask the old codger to leave. He grumbled and threw his hands up before gaiting out the door.
Then the manager walked over towards the cashier's counter. Oh boy, here we go...
“If you folks don't mind, can I ask what that was about?” He stood neutrally as Marcus, Amanda, and I shared our sides of the story. The manager nodded where appropriate, and eventually cupped his chin and sighed.
“I see...” he said sadly, then looked to Amanda. “don't mind people like him. Sadly, they're everywhere...” the PetSmart manager rolled his eyes. “And I apologize to you folks,” he gestured towards Marcus and I, “for the inconvenience. But next time, come find me or another manager instead of replying to people like him,” he smiled slightly. “Okay?” he gave a reassuring pat on Amanda's small shoulder, and that seemed to cheer her up. Then he went about his business.
When he was out of earshot, “Well at least your manager seems to be sticking by your side.”
Amanda sighed lightly, but kept her smile, “Yeah, Evan's a good manager. Luckily he knows where to draw the line with the whole 'the customer is always right' thing... but you didn't hear me say that...” Marcus and I chuckled as we finished and went to leave.
As we made our way back to the car, I felt somewhat relieved. I thought for sure the manager was coming to make trouble for the pony cashier, but it was quite the opposite. That old man was way out of line, and this Evan guy saw right through it. Somehow I doubt that I would be as lucky. My own managers repeatedly jump through hoops to please any and every customer. Still, it was refreshing to see.
We both entered the vehicle and drove off to Marcus's next destination.
Maybe there's hope for the future after all... only time will tell.
That's pretty much how the day was going thus far as the two of us cruised down the street. Well, aside from that shock collar; I'm still going to get him back for that, friggin' bastard. It didn't help that Marcus kept bringing up the 'shock on my face' when the thing zapped me. My eye kept twitching as I sat in the passenger seat, and I tried to keep my anger in control as he went on and on.
“Alright already!” I finally shouted, my cheeks burning. “It wasn't that funny, damn it!”
He snickered once more, and followed up with, “Yes it was...”
I grumbled, pouting again in my seat, and it was that much worse because I couldn't distract myself with the traffic that I knew was going by outside. Dear God, just when I thought car trips could not get more loathsomely boring... then this happens. Arrugh! I'd already studied the hell out of the fake wood and plastic of the car door, and pondered just about every different technique I could possibly use to open the handle when the time came to once again disembark. Any change in subject would be very much welcome.
My thoughts began to wander, and I found myself worrying for Ashley.
It's not every day that parents throw their kid out, and it's not every day a person turns into a colorful unicorn. Ashley never handled stress that well, and repeatedly through college she would practically rip her hair out for upcoming exams and such. Marcus and I would try and help her unwind with doing stuff, like going to a bar, or what we did yesterday with seeing a movie and such. During her college years it rarely helped, but we tried.
It didn't help that when she finally graduated, as now she had those typical tens of thousands of dollars of debt to pay off. Even having comleted college didn't make finding a job any easier. Last I heard, the only things she could find were in Fast Food... and that doesn't pay any higher than minimum wage, with the exception of becoming a manager. That was why her parents, until now, had offered up their home to Ashley – to help their daughter out...
And now they pull this shit...
The car, despite the air conditioning being on, felt like it had suddenly risen about ten degrees as I stared daggers at the dashboard. My thoughts boiled and my body reacted. Against the seat, my wings began to press on the leather, the action slightly pushed me forward, but I hardly noticed; and my folded ears barely caught the low growling that emanated from my muzzle. Honestly, I just couldn't comprehend how they could do that to Ashley. It just felt... incomprehensible.
What, did they think she'd be just as comfortable on the street? Nah, she doesn't need a bed or sheets anymore, her fur coat will keep her warm enough! She's an animal now, let her sleep on the ground like a dog. At least the food bills will be cheaper now, the garbage cans should be enough for her! After all, how much can a tiny, freakish horse eat anyway!
My anger peaked, and as those cascading thought ate at my mind, my heart grew heavy with despair, and I began to see red. Before too long my head began to ache, and I didn't even realize the SUV had come to another stop; not until Marcus's hand shook my shoulder again.
I heard his voice, but the words didn't register as I stewed in righteous anger; images of Ashley on the street, trying to survive, played their way across my mind's eye. The shaking became more persistent, just as the thought of the ultimate crossed my mind.
I reeled on the source, and screamed, “WHAT!?”
I watched through my teary eyes – they'd began watering without my knowing it – as Marcus briefly recoiled, and then fixed me with a sorrowful, but stern, gaze. He even removed his favorite shades for emphasis, a classic sign that the man was being serious.
We studied each other for several moments; him in concern, and me, for a while, in irritation. One long minute later, and it dawned on me that I was doing it again. Worrying myself to death over every little thing; despite the fact that I'd already stated, vocally or not, that as long as I had a roof, so too did Ashley.
“Sam,” Marcus began softly. He waited for me to say something, but no words came.
He sighed briefly, “Just relax okay? We will get through this, and things will turn out okay.”
I blinked at him, and just sighed while giving a nod.
I took another mental step back to observe and check myself. These hormones, or whatever, must really be doing a number on me. Several time this last day and a half, I'd been getting extremely pissed off or unnecessarily worried about this or that. Was becoming a pony pegasus... mare... that big of a deal? Yes. In fact, hell yes, but it didn't really warrant this kind of reaction at everything that's going on. What's done is done, and unless the government, or whomever, finds out what caused this sudden change, or how to cure this ponification, there was just nothing for it...
Perhaps that's what Marcus has been trying to tell me...
I furrowed my brow briefly; was I always this dense...? Also I could not recall previous times when I got that angry over stuff. I chalked it up to more mare stuff to deal with later, as I realized Marcus was waiting... and I looked over in time to see that dark skinned hand as it made its way towards me.
“I'll try and deal with this better,” I shrugged non-committal, making no promises. “just... bear with me, eh?” My question finished with a semi-warm smile when I turned my eyes on him.
He smiled in turn, and accepted my request with a solitary nod.
“Whelp...” he deactivated the SUV's idling engine. “let's get this 'date' over with...”
He exited the car quickly, leaving me there with pinpricked eyes and a blush on my face. God-damn itbody!!
“This is not a date!” I bellowed back at him, the last part of my shout cut off by the door closing. I grumbled and stared venomously at him as he circled the front of the vehicle, and 'politely' opened my door for me.
“Jackass,” I smirked at him.
“I think the words you're looking for,” Marcus grinned. “are 'thank' and 'you'... ma'am.”
Oooohh... you're asking for it now bub...
I held up my hoof, intending to flip him the bird... but again, that's hard to do without fingers, and I cursed aloud as he snickered at me, and watched the pegasus pony 'parachute' out of the tall vehicle. I was right back at the mall – I could use my wings in a way to soften the landing, my four hooves clopped on the ground relatively quietly on the tarmac.
We were once more in a parking lot, but not a strip mall like the PetSmart we'd just left. This whole lot was dedicated to one store, and one store only – Wal-Mart. Being at this place made more sense than the pet place, and felt a lot less degrading.
Marcus and I stayed close to our side of the line of parked cars, trying to stay out of the way of the frequently passing cars, people hunting predatorially for vacant parking. I paused when we got to the road that segregated parking lot from the doors that led into the store itself. There was the occasional car, and a decent amount of people that came and went, most walked inside the painted pedestrian crosswalk, but some just moved wherever the hell they wanted.
This wouldn't be a problem if I was still a human, but I'm not. I'm a pony now... a small pony. If I was gonna get hit, it was going to be here. By a car. A car, that by comparison, dwarfed me in size like a bowling ball sized up against a baseball. I winced as the image of an orange... and red... smear on the ground crossed my mind. Damn it brain!
Marcus was still at my side, looking down at me with that quizzical look, and like he could always seem to do, he guessed at my fear.
“Just cross quickly with me,” he suggested, then made another quickly thereafter. “or you can fly over the crowd.” the man suggested with a wave of his hand.
I liked the flying idea, but didn't want to draw attention to myself like that. The movie theater was still fresh in my mind, and I didn't want a repeat. It seemed that things had calmed at least a little bit now, as there were plenty of people around. A few looked in my direction with those odd stares though, probably not knowing exactly what I was or what was going on in the world right now. I couldn't blame them for their lack of knowing; I hardly ever watched the news either, and only turned it on because I was directly affected by this – hence fur, wings, tail etcetera...
“Erm,” I made that weird, uncertain sound, and backpedaled a step as a car went by unnervingly close.
I heard a slight sigh from the direction of my friend, and almost shrank; the thought that that was a sigh in annoyance crossed mt mind. Until he made another suggestion.
“Here,” he spoke as I looked up at him. He smiled, and offered a hand. “give me your, uh, wing tip, and I'll walk you across...”
The offer made me blink as I stared at his hand. Briefly I wondered if this was some kind of prank or joke – since Marcus was known to cause that (I still remembered that shock collar only hours ago). And yet this seemed different, genuine even, as I made observations of his facial features. His smile was kind – no hint of foul play or some kind of trickery in the works – and even... warm. The man's eyes showed no signs of such treachery as well. Long story short; this was an honest gesture of his friendship.
I smiled wanly back, “Thanks.” and offered my left wing.
He gently grasped about three or four of my orange feathers, and we started walking when a few other people entered the crosswalk. With that many pedestrians about, the traffic had no real choice but to stop, and therefore gave us a golden opportunity. With Marcus there, I felt safe as we crossed, and I edged a little closer to his legs. In a semi-odd kind of way, it reminded me of myself holding my parents hand when doing this exact same thing; it also felt different though, and I could not pin down why. A heat built in my chest as we went, but I hardly noticed as I kept my wary eyes on the nearby cars.
In no time flat, we reached the other side, we stopped in front of the store. The entrance was still busy, so we opted to wait for...
I blinked, and noted the pressure still on the limb attached to my back. I looked up, and saw that Marcus still held my wing in his hand.
I snickered a bit, then said plainly, “You can let go of my wing now...” I quirked an eyebrow, and for once, he blushed. The man hurriedly leg go of the feathery limb, and I gently folded it back down at my side.
We both stood there, wordlessly staring at each other. Him down at me, and I craned my neck up, ignoring the inbound cramps from doing so. My smirk wanned a bit, and his reddened cheeks receded over the course of several seconds as we continued to just gaze.
And there was something that I –
HONK!!
“Eep!” That new sound I was able to make jumped out of my muzzle, but the volume didn't have anything on the altitude as I shot up in the air, the hell scared out of me by the sudden car horn going off right freaking behind me.
I braced as I expected to hit hard concrete... when I landed, cradled, in something softer. I hesitantly opened my eyes to find I was in Marcus's arms, he was just as shocked as I was, and his body slouched as he likely had jumped, but reacted to break my fall.
Again we stared at each other a moment, and I noticed we gained some onlookers. Those stares in my peripheral vision snapped me out of whatever trance I was in, and I asked a little forcefully, “Put me down please.”
He blinked, and hesitated only a moment before he set me down on my hooves, carefully avoiding that area around the base of my outstretched wings.
“I'll get us a buggy,” he said neutrally, and then promptly made for the entrance. In his haste, he bumped into a customer's shoulder right as he was leaving, made a hasty apology, then went on. I followed shortly afterwards, the thoughts pushed to the back of my mind for now.
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
Again Marcus led the way as we made our way through the various aisles of the store. For a while we didn't say much to each other as he examined various products with what seemed like a practiced eye – like he'd shopped for a pony before. That elicited some rather curious stares from me; how did he have this much knowledge about what kind of things would be useful for a human-turned-pony? The only answer that came up was the somewhat odd obsession with that show for small girls. There had to be more to it.
“How do you know about all this, Marcus?” I asked, my neck craned up to him as he read the contents of something.
“Huh?” he asked without taking his eyes off whatever he was reading.
I repeated my query a little slower.
“Oh, well...” he placed the item – a shower gel/shampoo dispenser with large buttons – in the buggy, and then rubbed his neck with a hand. He stood there and leaned on a shelf as he contemplated something while I patiently – okay, semi-patiently – waited for him to explain.
“Well,” Marcus started by removing his shades. “it goes like this; being a gamer, and liking certain games, you know about fandoms, right?”
I nodded. I did indeed understand, as I was a part of a few; in particular to certain series.
“That show I like has a very large fan base, believe it or not, and nearly all of them are outside the target demographic.” his tone went on like he was making a simple explanation. I, however, got slightly more confused. Was what he was telling me true? There's a lot more people his age, and older, that like that show about ponies? ...Really? Again my mind was blown.
“The correct term is 'Bronies',” he explained the definition of something right as I zoned out from partial shock. Instead of interrupting, I just nodded. When I figured out how to use my laptop again, I can look up these 'brony' things. “the nickname made by the fans, short for 'bros who like ponies'.
“There's another term separate for the older women who like the show, called 'Pegasisters',” Marcus rolled his eyes as my own twitched. Pegasisters? Okay. Well if I were forced to pick one, it'd have to be the first one; the second sounds... I don't know, weird; despite being a mare, the horse equivalent of a woman, and a pegasus (hey, for once I didn't shiver... I'm making progress!). “but most prefer to just identify colloquially as 'Bronies'.” he finished that explanation.
So, there's a whole huge community dedicated to that show. That didn't surprise me so much, as everything has a fan base, ranging from colossally huge, or so small as to be practically non-existent. Marcus's enthusiasm built a bit as we moseyed down the aisles. He explained that the community has several sites dedicated to just that pony stuff, briefly went into detail about how it started on that '4chan' site, and how now the following is so huge that there's a number of conventions that happen around the world. Marcus even revealed that he was an apt contributing member to a few websites. He made pony art, wrote some short stories, and was even an administrator on some sites.
For lack of a better word, I was impressed. Now I know why Marcus would, on occasion, say he was too busy with stuff to go out and do anything – now I knew why. I did feel a bit irritated that he preferred to work on that stuff rather than hang with Ashley and I. But even so, I also knew that feeling of wanting to be alone and do things by yourself. Little sparks of being a loner when you weren't really a loner, and that made it more acceptable. Honestly, I even thought it was kind of neat that he was devoting so much to his own hobby.
“So,” Marcus continued, and fiddled with his hands a bit. “anyway, there is a lot of pony fanfiction, the same as with any fan base. And there's a whole subject of stories whom follow a similar premise of people, usually bronies, that go to Equestria.”
It took me a minute to recall what Equestria was – when my little sister's voice echoed the name, and her explanation, of what it was. I groaned slightly, “You're way too in to this, Marcus. I almost feel like I should be concerned...” There was liking something, and then there was obsessing over it. Right now, Marcus's in-depth knowledge of the subject seemed to be leaning towards the latter.
He shrugged, and brushed my slight jar aside and – ow!
I rubbed my side where he had lightly jabbed me with his knee, and growled in slight annoyance.
“So,” I decided to let the jab slide – well, not really, I chalked it up as one more thing I 'owed' him for later – to continue the conversation. “you don't really think this is some story do you?” I cocked an eyebrow at him, my face contorted in skeptical disbelief.
He was examining a home phone, one of the models with the very large buttons, “Well, you and Ash look a lot like the origi –” he suddenly froze and dropped the phone to the floor. Luckily, the show model was connected to the stand by a wire, and didn't smash against the floor. It did bang the shelf though, the sudden noise startled me as well as a raised foreleg, and drew the attention from some other shoppers.
And of course their stares went from the phone to the orange pegasus pony in two seconds flat – damn it, Marcus. I sidestepped to the other side of his legs in an attempt to hide a little. Eh, it was more so I wouldn't see their ongoing stares. I didn't need another breakdown this week.
In a desperate attempt to change my attention, I observed the stock-still frozen human I was shopping with. His hands were still up in the same position as when he held the phone. His eyes seemed distant, while his face was contorted in some form of mild worry.
Uh oh, I thought as my ears bent back against my skull. What now?
“Hey,” I poked his knee. “You okay? Earth to Marcus? Yoo-hoo?” Poke, poke.
He didn't respond.
I sighed, and sat on the ground next to him to use my forelegs. I used my hooves and pressed them against the jean material that covered his thigh, the bottoms facing each other, and the pressed them together in a pinch.
“Gyah!” He yelled out and jumped away – and nearly fell! He tried to grab the shopping cart in an attempt to steady himself. Problem was, things with wheels don't steady... they tend to roll. Fortunately all that happened as he clutched the handle was that he just slid slowly to the ground.
Marcus blinked, and after a few seconds of comprehensive crunching, he stared back at me.
I was still in the position, my forelegs raised in the pinch position while I sat on the floor. I wasn't exactly expecting a jump like that, and I didn't register for long seconds that he was looking at me. I blinked, and shrugged as I put my hooves down. “Sorry, you spaced out...” I paused, and considered something. “You spaced out like what I've been doing...” I smiled weakly.
Marcus grinned slightly, “Must have been bad then...” with a little difficulty, the larger man righted himself. A nearby store associate offered his help, but Marcus politely declined. The employee looked at me a moment, and gratefully just walked away. Over the next thirty seconds, the patrons decided we weren't of interest any more – thank God – and went about their business, leaving Marcus and I alone in the phone aisle.
When things calmed down, I asked, “What was that about?”
I noticed the wince he tried to hide, and he tried to feign like he didn't hear me, “Huh?” the man then went on like he was concentrating on something.
I narrowed my eyes a bit, despite him not looking. Nice try bub.
“You zoned out. You were about to say something... about me and Ashley.” I paused again to let those words sink in. “Something that has to do with this.” I gestured at my pegasus form, and gave my wings a light twitch for a smidgen more emphasis on what I was talking about.
He did his own pause, and stared at a DVD rack, “It's not something I can just tell you...”
My ears perked, and my frown increased. I was about to protest, and remind him of the first time he didn't speak up; back in the apartment just before we learned about me being gender swapped, when he continued, “It's something I have to show you.”
He traveled along in the store, and we stopped in the shoe department. Briefly it occurred to me that I wouldn't need to get shoes... or would I have to get fitted for metal horse shoes – wasn't that something painful? Or involved nails? The thought chilled my spine, and I forced it from my mind. Marcus took a seat and took out his own smart phone.
I climbed the small bench and sat next to him. My nervousness must have been a little thick, as my long, scruffy brown tail again weaved over my waist protectively. I was again reminded of my public nudity. I'm sure the fur coat covered me adequately, but why take chances. Despite having that extra limb, it felt very... comforting to have, and surprisingly soon I couldn't imagine not having the tail.
I watched as he activated the browser for the internet on his phone. He went to an art community site – DeviantArt – and logged in to his profile. He went to a gallery, his I assumed, and started thumbing through various pictures. His art was pretty good. Nearly all of it was pony stuff, and I recognized some of the characters from that show by appearance. I saw the orange one with the blond mane, in a flowing apple tree grove, striking a nearby tree with her hind legs. Another of Rainbow Dash soaring through the sky with an explosion of rainbow behind her, a daredevil grin on her face. I d'awed aloud at the picture of the butter yellow pegasus sitting with a dozen or so woodland forest creatures – bunnies, squirrels, raccoons, and... a bear... a rather fierce looking bear; okay...
He scrolled through the pictures for a while, and came across one with those six main character ponies, and... next to them were a pair that I was all too familiar with. Next to the diva unicorn with the stylized purple mane and tail – I still had no idea of what her name was supposed to be – was a gray unicorn with a nearly straight black mane and tail with two stripes of green in them. At a picnic, or some outdoor lounge table, I saw an orange pegasus with two toned brown hair talking enthusiastically with the pink, crazy looking pony, as well as the blond farmer again.
I just stared. My jaw remained nailed shut, and if it weren't for the physical impossibility of it, my pupils must have practically disappeared. I whispered out meekly, “What the fuck am I looking at...?”
He sighed heavily, and pointed at the gray equine talking to, Rarity, as he explained, and said, “Minty Stripe, and,” his finger drove over to the image of... me... at the table, “Sunset Gust.” he revealed their two names with a form of pride while I still stared.
“Okay,” I shied away from the phone, and raise a foreleg apprehensively. “I'm not going to lie... this is extremely weird, and very freaky Marcus.” my eyes never left the eerie art image of the brown-maned 'Sunset Gust' – me.
“I know,” he says flatly. “before you ask, no, I don't know how or why you and Ashley turned into the original characters I made of you two.” after that he briefly explained what an original character, or 'OC', was.
For lack of a better word, I was again in shock. I began to question whether or not this was coincidence or not. As absurd as it was, and even though he just stated he didn't know, I started to suspect Marcus. My mind raced; surely it wasn't the case for everyone that was transformed, surely everyone didn't have a cartoony named pony from that show. I didn't know what to think of this as the gears ground in my head. It seemed so weird, but this appeared to be concrete proof that this ponification was related to the show. For some reason, the plot line – hehe, plot – of Resident Evil popped in my brain; the evil corporation was replaced by those that made the show, with some kind of weird agenda to rule the world – via ponies.
If it wasn't for the fact that that may be true, I would have rolled on my back, laughing my ass off.
I slowly removed myself from the bench. I thought Marcus called out a little bit, but my mind had simply gone numb. I almost could not process this. This was just too much. Not only am I this weird cartoon equine alien whatever-the-hell, but it's related to what I thought was just a television show. My mind raced with question after question; what exactly was I, who or what did this, was Marcus and these 'bronies' involved in some way, and what else is out there that can happen....
My thoughts were interrupted by Marcus when he yelled, “SAM!”
I stopped and turned my head back to face him, when a familiar sound caused my ear to twist in the other direction. It sounded like wheels, four of them with one making those annoying squeak noises, accompanied by the sound of small running feet. I turned to look...
… and froze like a deer in headlights.
Careening towards me was a shopping cart speeding directly at me, controlled by a kid. I was in too much shock to screech out or try and warn him, and before I knew it, my breath was knocked from my lungs as the metal cage slammed into my side and face.
My mind went blank, troubling thoughts expelled by being run over. The kid, going as fast as he was, pushed me several feet. I stopped when my back struck a cardboard display, and that toppled over, burying me in small plastic shakers of seasonings.
I groaned under the pile, my side burned and aching. Rustling caught my attention, and the pile shifted around me – probably Marcus or someone else digging me out. I didn't get a chance to see the size of the display, but it must have been a large one, as I could barely move under the mountain of bottles. Eventually though, the pressure subsided on my head a bit, and I forced my head through.
I saw Marcus, a blond woman with the blue vest of an employee, and a rather worried looking round woman whom must have been the driving boy's mother; all three of them shifting fallen product, trying to dig me out.
Marcus sighed in relief, “You okay? I know you like herbs and spices, but wanting to bathe in them?” he snickered, teasing me, apparently glad that I seemed fine. Even so, I spotted the small tinge of worry that remained.
I checked myself a bit, and everything did indeed seem ship-shape, so I put the rest of his mind at ease, “Yeah, I'm fine.” I shook myself a bit, and more of the spice and herb bottles tumbled away, which allowed my forelegs and torso more freedom.
The large woman smiled a bit, knowing that I was okay; she then gave a baleful look towards her son, the prelude to what would probably be quite the scolding by her later. I almost said something, would have gave some reassuring excuse like, 'oh, it's not his fault, I'm kind of tiny now,' or something like that. But I recalled he was going really fast. So I just watched as she dragged him away by his arm.
Marcus and the store associate started to pick up and re-stacking the display. Without a second thought, since I wasn't severely or even mildly hurt, I started to do the same. I sat on my haunches and simply picked up bottle after bottle, and made sure they were straight and presentable – I worked in a grocery store, and building and fixing stuff like this was part of the job. Stuff sells better if it looks good.
After a short while I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I paused as I was about to stack a pair of bottles. I turned and looked at Marcus quizzically, “Hmm? What's up?” I gave him my attention.
He gaped at me, as was the store worker I noticed as my eyes shifted back and forth between the two. Several seconds went by, and I started to feel uncomfortable, my hind legs twitched a bit underneath me. “What?” I finally asked, and felt some of the anxiety attacking me because of the stares.
The associate worker pointed at me, “How are you doing that?” she asked.
I blinked, “Doing what?”
“That.” she emphasized her pointing finger with a couple pokes in the air, and I followed the finger.
I didn't see what the big deal was, I was holding a pair of spice bottles, getting ready to sta –
It hit me like a slap in the face. In my hooves, the pony hooves that lacked any way to grab things by themselves, were two of the spice bottles, one in each hoof. They just... floated there; like someone had somehow magnetized plastic to my limb ends. Slowly, my jaw dropped as I stared.
How the hell am I doing that!?
A mix of wonderment and fear washed over me at this freakish display. I know I suck at physics, but even I know this is utterly impossible. There was no way this should be happening; there was nothing holding the small bottles there – no glue, no tape, no fingers, nothing. How the hell am I –
The plastic containers chose that moment to lose whatever voodoo that was holding them to me, and clattered to the floor. The three of us watched them, eyes wide and staring, as they sat serenely in the pile with the couple dozen identical ones.
I poked one with a hoof like I was trying to tease a crab, expecting the thing to snap at me in some hostile way, or explode in my face. I shook my head and partially reared my head back up, “Okay, someone please explain what the hell just happened...?” I looked to the only person that may know; Marcus.
He looked at me, and partially shrugged. The man took a moment to ponder, a hand to his chin as he stared at the containers. After about a minute, he answered, “Pony magic.”
Ugh, I rolled my eyes. More of this magic crap...
Did he honestly believe that was more magic? I was only willing to believe that unicorns such as Ashley could perform magic, because they had those horns, but pegasi too? Could the hornless and wingless ones do that as well? And what about ghosts, do they suddenly exist? Come on Marcus.
I gave him an incredulous stare with a cocked eyebrow, “Is magic the answer for all inexplicable things or what?”
He shrugged again, “'Or what' seems pretty acceptable right now too,” he rubbed his forehead then gestured that hand at me. “you can't seriously think that it couldn't be magic, right? You've turned into a pony, you're a pegasus, you are –” he was about to say gender swapped or mare or something along those lines, when I switched that stare to a glare. “er, anyways, you saw Ashley perform magic, however small and brief it was. As I said before, I'm half expecting a forecast of cotton candy clouds and chocolate milk rain... and I'm ready with a jug.”
His goofy statement made me relax, and I chuckled, “Right, I guess it might be,” I shrugged.
The three of us continued to clean up, but I couldn't do that weird grip thing anymore. I tried over and over again, but the bottles just fell off repeatedly – like they should have all along. Marcus offered an explanation; that it worked because I wasn't thinking about it, that it was on impulse and habit that I started to pick up the bottles and that was why it was working when it did. Now that I was conscious and aware of it, the 'magic', if that's what it genuinely was, just wouldn't work. Or at least not while I was trying to make it work.
“Gee, well that sucks,” I pouted a bit as I stared at my hoof. “find out hooves can do more than clop, doesn't work unless you're not thinking about it.” I rolled my eyes as I finished that sentence, and Marcus topped off the display with the last couple of bottles. The employee thanked us for our help, gave one final stare at me, then went on to help another customer.
“Yeah, it does,” Marcus replied. “but at least that'll help you adjust better.” he crossed his arms in satisfaction. “and it means that a part of the canon is proven one-hundred-percent right! Hah!” he elated as he talked about something from that show again. I didn't want to ask, as my brain felt overtaxed as it was.
Thankfully the rest of the trip went on as normal – well, as normal as shopping with a pony could be. I looked everywhere, and I seemed to be the only ponified human here; which meant I got all the stares. I had to pause to fight hyperventilation once, and surprisingly Marcus still had that same paper baggy from the day before.
“Thanks again,” I hoofed him the bag when I was done, some four minutes later.
“Any time,” he replied as he stuffed the brown, crumpled rectangle into his back pocket.
I smiled warmly at him, again appreciating all he was doing for me. He was a real friend. And for a moment, I forgot about all the prank crap I owed him, and instead formulated ways to pay him back for his generosity.
And just like that my mind was put at ease – or at least enough that I could ignore the passersby that peeled their eyes at the sight of me. In a way, I felt almost normal despite having to crane my neck to look at anyone that wasn't a child or a midget. Finally we selected our last item, and we made our way to the checkout. That went by uneventfully, and soon we were back in the SUV, and departing down the street. At a red light, I said I wanted to call Ashley, and Marcus dialed her cell phone on his own, and switched the settings to speaker.
I watched the light as I waited for an answer.
Several rings later, and a voice called out.
“Hello?” my ears perked up, the voice seemed partially choked and a little hoarse (see what I did there?), like the person on the other line had been crying, or eating very hot salsa. My brow furrowed in irritation at the voice I heard, for it wasn't whom I was expecting. It wasn't the familiar voice of the gray unicorn I wanted to hear right now.
Damned intense anger burned across my orange face as I glared daggers at Marcus's phone. This was not the voice I wanted to hear right now – in fact, screw that, it was a voice that I didn't want to hear, period. My vision went partially red and all I could see was the loathsome phone.
“Hello...?” That voice repeated.
My muzzle twitched, “Hello,” I muttered tersely.
“Um, who is this?” she asked, and seemed partially nonplussed by my tone – problem was I did not give a shit.
“A friend of Ashley's...” I replied back, and fought to keep my tone level for the time being.
“Oh,” I heard some shuffling on the other end. “Is she... okay?” Ashley's mother asked, and I nearly missed the hesitant tone.
And that did it – I lost it as I grit my teeth and growled into the phone. “And what the hell do you think!? Did you think she'd be fine being kicked out of the house like that!? I mean seriously, how can you even ask that!” If I were a unicorn, I'm certain my magic would have destroyed the phone on impulse – hell, the only reason I hadn't stomped the phone into disjointed junk was because it belonged to Marcus.
There was a long silence on the other side, and I took the moment to see how Marcus was reacting. His face was fairly grim, but we seemed to be on the same page as far as the appropriateness of what was happening. Good, because if he tried to stop me from chewing her out, he was gonna lose teeth.
I heard what sounded like Ashley's mom and someone else having a slight conversation on the other side. Despite the speaker, it was fairly difficult to hear. Normally I try to keep my impatience in check; nope, not this time.
“Hello,” I said tersely, intentionally.
“Er,” she stuttered, not really expecting me to catch her attention again. “I-I, uh, don't recognize your voice. Who are you, again?” the woman sounded fairly confused, tinged with irritation. Most likely that was because of the perception of a stranger chewing her out for her bullshit.
“I'm Sam,” I reply back. “and before you ask, I know I sound friggin' different. I got changed into a freak too.” I added a semi-hateful venom to the word 'freak', letting her know I was not pleased, nor would I tolerate their crap.
“Oh, hello Sam,” Ashley's mom sounded like she wanted to cheer up, but couldn't. I wanted to say I couldn't blame her, except that I could... I really, really could.
I growled a little, “Just answer me this,” I paused, and took a deep breath, and unsuccessfully tried to assuage the growing burn in my chest. “why the hell did you do that to her? You're her mother. Just... why?”
A long period of silence permeated the conversation as it came to a halt. After several moments, I glanced over at Marcus. He was watching directly – and I hoped we were stopped at a red light or something. My eye twitched at him, and a quick peek over the dash confirmed – yeah, we were stopped at a traffic light, thank god.
Honk!
A car horn sounded behind us, Marcus jumped and cursed lightly before refocusing on the road. I snickered at his flustered-ness, but quickly regained my steely loathing when the phone quirked back up.
My ears strained to hear the sound, but it was pretty quiet. It wasn't words, just a kind of... was that sobbing? I couldn't really tell. My eyebrow arced incredulously, and my head tilted. No, that can't be sobbing or an emotion of sadness, no frigging way.
“S-she's sa-safe...?” a choked voice finally answers.
What...!?
I huffed in sarcasm, “Like you even care whether she's safe or not!” I bent down to the phone, and growled out through grit teeth, staring heat beams into the device intended for the voice. “Threw. Her. Out! Remember? Do you want me to describe it to you? Want me to tell you about how hurt, and lost she is!? Want me to...”
I trailed off as a pained wince escaped into the speaker.
My head reeled back up, bemusement written across my fuzzy face. No! Don't even tell me she's regretful about that shit! Despite the turning conversation, my anger only doubled.
Through a speaker a second voice, deeper and gruffer, chimed it. I couldn't hear what was said specifically, but the responses from Ashley's mother gave me the clue that it was her husband.
“Yes... dear?”
He probably just said some acknowledgement.
“Who's on the phone?”
“Um... Sam, one of,” she paused to sniff. “Ashley's friends...”
I listen intently, and can barely make out the other voice.
“Sam huh?”
“Yeah.... uh, he was changed too...” she seemed hesitant on revealing that information.
“Then get off the phone. Don't talk to any of those freaks. I don't want it to spread!”
I had no idea what the man said, but the angry tone gave me enough information to go on. Everything seemed a little clearer; Ashley's mom apparently didn't want to do that to her daughter, it was all the father doing it for whatever reason. My cheeks burned, and I continued to listen balefully.
Ashley's mother wasn't the very strong willed type. The woman was usually quiet, and she was usually pretty kind. She occasionally said the wrong thing; maybe she was kind of dense like that, but she was never outright rude. These facts dawned on me when the husband entered the conversation (kind of).
“B-but dear!” she tried to retort back, and the volume lowered slightly – I guess she must have removed the phone from the side of her head.
There was some shuffling, and it sounded like the phone was being jostled on their end.
“Hello? Hello, what the hell's going on...” I cut off when the phone screen reported that the line had been disconnected. “Hey!” I shouted angrily, and jabbed at the device with a hoof. It was futile, my hoof made a poor tool to get the thing to re-connect. The screen filled with random numbers as the too-large tip triggered two, even three, numbers at a time.
“Damn it!” I growled again, part of my fury was redirected at the phone and my damned pony body.
I rose my hoof above my head, intent on smashing the damned thing – and paused at the last second. No, I can't do that; it's still Marcus's property, and no matter how pissed I got, that didn't make it right. I sighed heavily, then lowered the hoof raised in anger back onto the chair. After that, I just let my forehooves slip out from under me, and plopped down on the cushion, and stared at the car floor. My ears pasted back, and my anger towards those two devolved into depression.
Her father sounded adamant. He wasn't going to let Ashley come back, and probably wouldn't even let her get her stuff. I wanted to believe that that would change, given some time, but my pessimism didn't really allow that false hope. For the umpteen-millionth time this week, I felt my eyes water.
The SUV came to a stop, and I felt that hand on my shoulder again. I didn't look up, intent on eying the floor in my dour mood.
He didn't really say anything, and simply rubbed my shoulder with his thumb.
It did make me feel better... somewhat. But I wasn't the one that needed comfort right now; that belonged to Ashley. How do I break this to her? That her father more than likely wasn't going to take her back while she was a techni-colored equine, and that her mother, while she appeared remorseful about the whole thing, didn't seem to have the damned spine to tell her husband off? Will she even want to go back? I know I didn't want her to. Those parents, if they can even be called that still, were unworthy in my opinion. It wasn't right.
I sigh heavily again, and drag myself up from the seat. I ask with more than a little glum in my voice, “Are we back yet...”
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
The car came to a halt in the front office parking lot. Though we didn't exit just yet, the two of us just sat there for long moments in silence, left to our thoughts.
Right now I regretted this transformation more than I ever had since I first woke up like this. It wasn't so much for me, but for Ashley. My mother and sister were A-okay with this. Well, maybe not okay, but they didn't appear super concerned or despaired about it. I'd have to wait and see how Dad reacted later, and I wondered how much of a problem it will be. Although I doubt he will react with the borderline racism that Ashley's father showed. Her mother, however, seemed somewhat... regretful about the whole thing; like she was sorry, and I almost felt bad for giving her the third degree.
Almost.
I sighed, then sat back in the seat and stared woefully at the car's roof.
Marcus fidgeted next to me, and finally turned off the SUV's rumbling engine, which had been sitting idle ever since we pulled up and parked.
“Don't worry about it too much Sam,” he said plainly, laced with sympathy and sorrow. My ears twitched in response to his tone. “People... everyone... many of them simply cannot accept change. For one reason, or another. And unfortunately, it's far more common than I want to admit...” he sighed heavily, and then mimicked my lean into his own chair.
My ears fold, “But... they're her parents...” I argued weakly, and lacked the strength to bring myself back up.
He hummed disappointedly, “I know Sam... but there's simply nothing we can do to change their minds.” A familiar gravitational stone reappeared in my gut.
I huffed sadly in response to the truth, “I'm just... thinking. How am I gonna break this to her...?” I turned my long-necked head to look at him, and he nodded with a frown.
The man turns to match my stare, and replied, “Would you rather I...?”
“No,” I lightly cut him off with a shake of my head, “no, I need to. I just... feel responsible for some reason...” I had no idea why I felt that way. I just did. Screw it, I'll figure it out later. I did not want to be the bearer of bad news... but it just felt right; like it should be me, so I could be there for her when the inevitable happened.
He quirked his eyebrow at me, apparent puzzlement on his face. Marcus opened his mouth once to protest, but then closes it a second later. His response was just a nod.
“Well, alright. Let's get going,” he announced, and clicked the door open.
“Um,” I hold up a hoof, “Uh, can we just, uh, walk around the complex for a bit? I'm not really... ready to go back in just yet...” truthfully I wasn't. I did not look forward to being the bearer of bad news.
There was a pregnant pause as he waited for me to finish.
“Just... let's walk a bit. Two laps around the complex....” I mutter out semi-quietly, ears still flat against my skull.
He smiled warmly, and nodded. Marcus exited the car and moved closer to my side while I fidgeted with the door handle again. Before I could finish, the heavy door popped open, held by my friend.
I smirk, “What's gotten in to you...” I tease, raising my eyebrow. “You've never been this nice.”
The man blinks, and his smile wanes. He looks elsewhere away from me, his cheeks tinged. The man's fingers tap rhythmically on the door frame for long seconds, then stop. Silence fills the air.
Okay, not the reaction I was expecting.
“So, how 'bout that walk...?” he asks after recovering.
I blink, my confusion thick, “Um, right... okay...”
Just like at the stores, I use my wings like a deployable parachute and glide my way down. Marcus snickered when I almost collided with the car parked next to us. Since we weren't going straight back to my apartment, we left the things we bought in his SUV for the time being.
The complex was a lot more inviting during the daytime. The green shrubbery popped in the sunlight, long comforting shade cast by the trees. Although it wasn't all summer; the ground had begun to coat in multi-colored oranges and reds from the falling leaves. A light breeze wafted by my coat as we walked, and I had to brush my bangs out of my face; it's so strange, having long hair like this all of a sudden.
There were others around and about. A man in gym clothes running along the opposite sidewalk, an MP3 in his ears. Some kids were playing in the complex pool, the parents, I assumed, nearby on lounge chairs chatting while they splashed each other. I caught a tuft of a wild hair color in the water, a teal-ish blue that I almost missed on first look. Then a blue head with magenta eyes popped out a few seconds later. I smiled, there was yet another pony in the complex, and they seemed to be getting along fine with their apparent siblings and parents.
The blue pony looked in my direction, and waved. Surprisingly, the other kids in the pool, as well as their folks, also turned and greeted me with a wave of their own. I smiled back, and rose a wing. Briefly they exchanged glances but took the new appendage in stride. Seconds after, one of the still human girls playfully tackled the pony, and they resumed their fun and games.
A pang of jealousy clinched at my chest. Not for myself, but for Ashley. That pony's parents and siblings were getting along fine it seemed. Why couldn't she have that. And I guess that pang was for me a bit. Dan and I never got along, but now it was only going to get worse with me being a small equine.
My mind felt at ease – everyone and everypony seemed to get along. Yeah, I knew it was just one so far, but still I maintain my point.
“Hi Sam!” A shrill voice called out almost directly in my ear.
“Gyaaaah~!!” I yelped in surprise and jumped halfway in the air, wings and limbs flailed up as I landed on the grass.
I lifted my head up, and was greeted by the same pony I had chatted with the night before. Chloe again had a hoof to her mouth as she made a poor attempt to stifle her giggles at my expense. Once it became apparent that I was okay, Marcus joined in.
My face a thin line of bemusement, I let my head fall back on the ground and just stared up at the sky, lightly cursing my so-called friend yet again.
My ears perked as Chloe spoke up, “Hi Sam,” she stifled a laugh. “feeling better today?”
“Until about ten seconds ago, no,” I smiled a bit and rolled onto my back on the grass to look back at her. I was actually glad that her cheery face showed up – I was getting depressed again.
She looked puzzled a moment, but then caught on to my meaning, “Oh good,” the mare chirped.
Marcus chuckled and I mock-glared at him as I stood back up, then gave my attention back to the other mare, “Chloe, this is Marcus,” I pointed a wing at the dark skinned man, “he's a good friend of mine. And Marcus, this is Chloe,” that wing now turned to her, “she lives in the same unit as me. We just met last night after you left.”
Marcus smiled, and crouched down in front of Chloe, then offered a hand, “Good to meet you,” he offered politely. She rose a hoof and they shook.
“Nice to meet you as well,” Chloe greeted warmly, and after a few more seconds she took her hoof back.
I hummed happily, glad that my new friend and old friend seem to get along just fine. Chloe joined us for our walk, and Marcus revealed his penchant for the show. We learned from him that the 'regular ones' that didn't have wings like a pegasi or unicorn horns were called Earth ponies. He went on to say that while earth ponies could not perform magic or fly, they were usually hardier and stronger than that of the other two. Chloe commented that while on her walk last night, she had noticed that she did not get anywhere near as tired as she used to; adding that while she usually just did two or three miles, the night before she went nearly eight.
The human went on to describe a few other fanfiction based theories and abilities. One particularly wild one was that earth ponies could affect plant life with their wills. That got a quirked eyebrow from me, as it sounded ridiculous but awesome at the same time. He revealed a few more different ones, but I was too busy wondering about the plant thing.
Marcus paused and asked Chloe how her own first transformation day went, and I decided that I'd had enough.
“Whelp,” I interjected softly. “I'll see you at the apartment, Marcus.”
He gave a nod as Chloe paused her story and he hands me the keys. I took the ring in my wing tip, then trotted off towards my complex.
It had simply been a while and I was starting to get tired. For some reason, going out to do anything always just sapped my energy; that, and I never really cared all that much about going out to places so often. Dunno why, I just didn't.
I started to hum semi-happily as I made my way through the complex. My mood lifted somewhat from seeing Chloe again and for inadvertently introducing Marcus to her. I had a feeling they'd get along just fine. And Chloe was right in two ways. There were indeed more ponified in the complex other than that blue one at the pool.
I saw a unicorn and an earth pony sitting on a bench outside their unit, just talking and discussing. Saw another in an open door, a pony inside reading a book – and a grimace on their face as they tried to turn the pages with hooves. I smirked a bit, for some reason finding humor in the situation. It seemed that ponified humans were fitting in more or less; or at the very least here at the complex.
Second, Chloe was right about things looking up. It was a nice day, and nothing felt like it could go wrong! I smiled a little more, and looked forward to seeing Ashley as my pace picked up.
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
“Ow!” I spoke irritatedly as I rubbed my head.
I had entered the door to my unit when the ground beneath me suddenly bucked. It wasn't that intense of a shake, but it startled me and I lost my balance. As a result my head bonked the wall. Nowhere near as bad as the coffee table yesterday morning, but it still hurt. I probably had a bruise from the table, and it throbbed more than it should – like getting hit twice in the same spot on the shoulder.
I righted myself, and inspected the wall for any blood. It was kind of an unnecessary check, but I recalled my stained carpet.
That was fairly unusual. In Tucson we never get earthquakes; or at least not ones powerful enough to feel their effects. That was supposedly only to happen elsewhere. The city wasn't on any fault lines that I was aware of. It only lasted a second, but I'd bet money that everyone noticed it.
Perhaps there'd be something on the news later...
That thought in mind I made my way passed the last few doors to my own.
Fiddling with the keys, I muttered to myself, “Hope Ash isn't too bored...”
I'd need more practice opening the door this way – it took a good bit of effort manipulating the keys. My frustration grew by granules until the lock finally clicked, and I pushed the door open.
I hummed, closing the door behind me. I turned to the room; the television was on, and the room was mostly dark as the blinders were closed shut. I trotted over and manipulated the stick so the slits would let some light in. I turned back to the studio – and noticed the several dishes on the coffee table. Forks, spoons, knives – even some plates, bowls and glasses. I blinked, and wondered if I'd had any food at all left in my pantry and fridge. I frowned and did a double-take, something odd registering in my head.
Every single one of the utensils and dishes were still clean. Not a crumb or saucy stain on any of them.
I blinked again in surprise. What was she doing with all my dishes like this? My annoyance grew at what seemed like a pointless mess to make. I sighed when I noticed the shattered remains of a mug on the linoleum kitchen area, and I began looking around for more damage and mess.
My ears twitched at the silence, and it slowly dawned on me that the gray unicorn was nowhere to be found.
“Ashley?” I called out. I started looking around, and found no evidence of her.
My concern began to grow by leaps and bounds.
She wouldn't have left, right? She was still apprehensive about this pony thing. Although I had to admit I was more squeamish about going outside without clothes than she was. And she's been a girl her whole life... how weird is that?
I would have chuckled at the thought if I wasn't pre-occupied with worry about where Ashley might have gone or what had happened. There wasn't a break in – the door was still locked and intact, and the only sign of damage was the broken mug. The window was nest; nope, secured and unharmed as well. My chest relaxed a bit as the clear facts denied my imagination the scenario of a burglar abducting the unicorn.
So, what the hell happened then!?
I got my answer a second later when my ears twisted towards the only other room in the apartment; the bathroom. It was closed, the light glowed softly under the door crack – and I heard what was unmistakably a sniffle.
“Ashley?” I asked, and stood right outside the door. “You in there, Ash?” I rose a forehoof and knocked on the door a few times. The quiet sniffling stopped for several second.
I waited patiently, and side glanced at something on the floor. The carpet by the couch and coffee table bore more red stains, joined by the tiny droplet when I hit my skull. The first thought chilled my veins. I shook my head in response, and said quietly to myself, “It's from the tomato soup. It's from the soup...” although I was not assured by my own words.
I knocked again, a little more loudly and a bit more concerned, “Ashley, open the door please.” it was unlocked, but I wasn't about to just barge in.
“D-don't c-come in!” her voice was recognizable, but choked with sorrow. I winced.
“Ashley...” I started...
There was a thump behind the door.
My eyes widened in alarm, “Ashley!”
Without another thought, and forgetting the door was unlocked, I turned and kicked the door open with my hind legs. The weak bolt tore away from the frame, the wood splintered and damaged. The odd, first-time motion nearly made me trip as I whirled back around to...
Oh my God...
I froze in place and stared, my eyes shrunk to pinpricks. She was indeed in the bathroom, but doing things that sent the coldest chill of fear down my spine. The gray unicorn was suspended in mid-air above the shower curtain rail, a poorly crafted noose tightened around her neck. In my peripheral, I noted several things. The sound I'd heard was the fall of a stool she'd been using to balance on just moments before. The white linoleum sported more red splotches – blood – and more of it dripped off of her left forehoof.
Her gasping for breath snapped me back to what was happening.
I reacted on instinct and galloped forward. Hurriedly I braced my shoulders under her hooves, and my own forehooves on the tub's ledge, trying to prop her up. In my haste, and already tired, my legs quivered a bit under her weight.
“Sam,” she said, her voice raspy in the slightly loosened rope. “stop it!”
“What!?” I nearly shouted, and twisted my head to gaze at her.
“I need to do this!” she replied with a glare.
I shook my head vehemently, “No! You're not committing suicide!” I said it with adamance, but there was a palpable underline of pleading. This was my worst fear, the thing I'd been dreading. Ashley's depression was getting the better of her, and she saw this as the only way. She'd given up.
I'm sure as hell not about to! I grunted, her hooves digging into my shoulder.
“No you don't!” I argued back.
“Go away!” Ashley cried out, and tried to shuffle off me to her fate. I snapped my wings up, and cupped them around her legs and thighs, holding the unicorn in place.
“No, Ashley! This isn't the way!” I shot back.
She sobbed despairingly, and it would have broken my heart if not for the situation.
“They don't love me any more...” she wailed, and leaned into the rope some more. I readjusted to keep the pressure off her throat. “What do I have to live for...” she asked, her tone suggesting there was no answer to be found.
I grunted, her weight pressing on me, “Lots, Ash! You still have lots to live for! You don't need them.” I said, trying to nail the words home.
She growled angrily as her eyes leaked more tears, “Like what Sam? How can you possibly understand what I'm feeling!? Your Mother still loves you!” I felt something tug hard on my tail, and noted her horn glowing. She was trying to pull me away so she could die.
“I don't!” I replied truthfully, then added, “But I can't let you do this!” I hooked one of my forehooves on the tub's lip.
“Let go!” Ashley reaffirmed with a strong enough pull to make my rear hooves briefly leave the floor, and I yelped.
“No!” I shouted back, “I... I won't!”
“There's nothing for me here!” she sobbed as she repeated yanked my rear.
My own tears leaked, both from the pain in my rump and from the fear that clutched my chest if she were to succeed. “Don't be stupid, Ash!” Those words stung, but I knew it was just the despair talking, not the woman I loved.
“Why do you care?!” she wailed again with a reproachful glare, “I turned you down! Why don't you hate me!”
And that did it, “Because I still love you!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, never so scared in my life.
She stared at me in shock, that angry look dissipating as well as the aura around her horn and my tail. A moment later and she bowed her head away from me in shame, shoulders heaving as she sobbed.
“Ashley...” I stated softly. “this isn't the end of the world... I mean, there's still a lot to live for, yeah?”
The woman-turned-mare didn't look at me.
I felt so lame as I tried to think of what was the right thing to say. My heart was pounding. I knew if I didn't convince her now that she'd simply try again... and possibly succeed. The mere prospect had that chill come back to torment me.
“Ash...” I started off plainly. “Don't do this... I can't...” I felt myself choke up a bit, the thought of her dieing just hung in my mind like an inescapable itch. “I couldn't bear to see you kill yourself...” this time she looked back down at me. I added softly, almost pleadingly, “Please...”
She stayed silent as she studied my gaze while I examined her own, the two of us guessing at each other's thoughts. The uncertain fear clutched at my chest as I hoped my words would be enough to deter a follow-up attempt. Ashley was smart; since this attempt was thwarted, the mare would devise a careful plan that would succeed at a later date. It was her turn to convince me that she could be trusted to her own life, and if she failed, I'd make sure never to leave her alone again. I was not going to be the one to discover her cold corpse, or hear about it from Marcus or someone else. The simple fact was that I absolutely would not be able to take it.
Ashley stared at me for long moments, before she finally spoke softly, “I just... don't know if I can do this, Sam...”
I nodded. I had the same thoughts, even if they were in the back of my head. This pony thing was disturbingly new and the uncertainty was palpable. I forced a sympathetic smile, “Then instead of giving up, let's find out together...” I hummed after the question, and showed a gesture of trust by folding my wings back down.
Ashley rewarded me with a small smile and a nod, “Okay...” her horn lit up again, and the glow ensnared the noose around her neck. The ropes loosened, and with assistance from her forehooves, she slipped it over her head. I helped her down, and then we tended to her slit wrist.
“And... this...?” I gestured at the bandages, which we secured with some band aids. In the back of my mind I noted she'd gotten a good bit better at that magic thing. It clicked that that must be why there were so many dishes strewn about on my coffee table. Before the suicide attempt, she'd made use of the time to practice.
Ashley frowned, “I... wasn't sure how to deal with the pain....” she answered pathetically with no small amount of embarrassment and shame.
My response was a sigh, and after a moment I hugged her. My worry grew, the vision around my eyes blurring as water formed, “You scared me to death...” I sniffled.
I heard her sigh, then with a bit of dejection, “I'm sorry...”
Skepticism took over in my thoughts, and I wondered if she was genuinely sorry for terrifying me, or if she was sorry that the suicide attempt failed. As a result my muzzle curled in a frown and I was glad that she couldn't see it right now, her head facing over my shoulder from the embrace. I wanted to shove that thought away, scream and shout at it that it was wrong...
But was it? I had no way of knowing other than being blunt and asking. Instead of pondering it longer, I just dropped the subject entirely – perhaps the answer would be revealed in time, and I desperately hoped it would be the answer I wanted.
We held that embrace for quite a while – long enough that Marcus had entered the apartment after leaving Chloe for the day.
The first words out of his mouth was, “Had a feast without me?” he sighed in mock-disappointment. “Must've been good... the plates are spotless.” I suppressed a chuckle, and wiped my eyes before parting from Ashley. Of course he'd make some joke, oblivious to what had occurred only a short while before.
I studied the unicorn again. Part of it was judging her trustworthiness and the other part was admiring that face again. She was smiling, and it soothed some of my anxiety. I motioned Ashley to stay in the bathroom a moment while I distracted Marcus.
Man, I thought with a mental sigh. The drama meter would have busted by now... how much more of this can I take before breaking down...
With an adding thought before taking a seat, I added mentally. Again...
I curled up, and tried to hide from the invading beams of sunlight as they weaved their way through my still-open blinds. My left wing unfolded and covered my face while I grumbled malcontent at the rising sun.
Ugh, it would be morning already...
I peeked between a pair of orange feathers, I glanced at the alarm clock; it read 7:47 a.m.
That pretty much confirmed it; I am now doomed to being a morning pony. Granted, this was an hour or so later than the last two days, but still... this sucked! I readjusted in the basket bed that was set up on my couch hybrid. Marcus and I had set up the things we bought, and the first thing I did was lounge in the heavenly softness of the bed meant for pets once the rest of the stuff was put away. Even while I enjoyed the small bed, I still felt that pang of humiliation from having to sleep in something meant for a dog. But that was just an annoying backdrop to how comfortable the damn thing was.
I turned my back to the sun's warming rays, and tried to fall back to sleep.
Except my damn body just wouldn't have it. My legs – all four of them – just started twitching. I frowned and grumbled sullenly at my body's refusal to leave me alone. Something was irritating me, and I had no idea what. It was just that feeling of having to get up, like I’d been asleep for far too long and it made me restless and stir-crazy.
“Fine, damn it!” I complained out loud, then sat up. I glanced around the deserted apartment, and sighed sadly -- my irritation at myself cooled in nearly an instant. I was alone.
After I'd explained what happened to Marcus when he came in, he made the suggestion that Ashley stay over at his house. He had a number of reasons to support that opinion, such as there's more room in his place; he had an actual house rather than an apartment. I couldn't deny that I was jealous, but I couldn't afford a full blown home.
Second, he could be with Ashley and make her more comfortable to prevent her from trying suicide again. My mind darkened at that thought, and I had stared in concern at the unicorn while he spoke the night before. I knew he would be home more often than I, and I thought he had a roommate sharing one of the extra bedrooms, but I wasn't sure. Either way... I was loathe to admit... she would be more comfortable in his house than in this tiny little studio apartment. That night, with a heavy and regretful sigh, I relented to watch them go.
I sighed as I observed the mess. When I questioned Ash about it – after she'd calmed down and got more trustworthy care for that cut on her wrist – she explained exactly what I suspected. She'd been practicing that telekinesis magic trick all day while Marcus and I were out shopping.
And she stated that she had made some progress on it too. My crush told us how she could lift heavier metal forks with ease, and was working on larger items like plates and coffee mugs made of ceramic. That brought a little bit of joy back to the conversation, and served well to distract me from Ashley’s suicide attempt earlier.
A second yawn escaped my muzzle, and I lazily removed myself from the pet bed and the couch. I made my way into the small kitchen, intent of eating breakfast fir –
Crunch.
I blinked in surprise then looked down. I'd stepped on the remains of the broken mug that had been dropped. I guess that's one good thing about hooves, as it seems I'm now less likely to get broken shards of crap stabbing me in the feet.
I groaned exasperatedly, then grappled again with the small pantry doorknob. Inside I found my dust pan and hand-broom… and just stared at it as I tried to figure this latest conundrum out.
“Okay…” I quirked an eyebrow at the cleaning tools. “How do I use you now…?”
After a few moments of thought, I unfurled my wings and gazed at them. I was able to pick up a plastic cup back at Ashley’s; could I maybe use a broom and dust pan with them?
Time to find out.
I grasped at the dust pan first, my feathers wrapped around the plastic handle not meant for wings or hooves. With caution I lifted it off the floor a few inches, just to make sure it wouldn’t be too heavy. Satisfied my wing could support the weight, I drug that piece over to the shattered pieces that used to be one of my mugs, and perched the slanted ramp near the shards. Then went back for the broom itself.
The broom, on the other hoof, turned out to be just too much. The damn thing kept slipping out of my wing’s grasp, it clattered loudly with each failed attempt as I felt my face redden from frustration.
I rolled my eyes as it fell one more time, and I contemplated to just stomp the frigging thing and be done with it.
Instead I took a deep breath. “Okay Sam, just calm down…” I took one more, then folded my my wings back down; they simply could not handle this task. I bent my head down and bit the hard plastic in my teeth, my muzzle opened just enough to get the whole thing in a secure grip.
Again satisfied I went back to the site of carnage concerning my coffee mug. Like everything else, I had to plan the motions and work them over in my head for a few moments before actually attempting what I was about to do. Being four-legged, small, and lacking fingers changed absolutely everything. It sucked a lot.
I sighed as I was constantly reminded of this new handicap. Yes, that’s exactly what it was. Part of me felt like I was an old cripple, unable to do things for themselves because of age and injuries.
“Mphell, mphar mph’ain’t mphmphin mphor mphit…” I mumbled around the handle. I blinked as I realized what I just did, and my ears fold as my eyes rolled. I sighed once more.
I bent my head down and swept slowly back and forth while I used my forehooves to steady the dust pan. It worked, but it took forever. Trying to coordinate with my face nearly to the ground proved difficult while sweeping up smashed mug remains. Eventually I got it though, and dumped the broken contents into the trash can, dust pan held in my teeth.
I spat the thing back into the pantry, and kicked the broom in as well -- it clattered loudly, and I realised I kicked too hard. I winced, but didn’t look as I made my way back to the couch. Instead I glanced at my hind hooves, and wondered about that kick I gave Dan. My concern rose again that I might have caused him harm.
“Great…” I sighed yet again. “Now I need to apologize…” I slumped back in the couch.
At least sitting like a human was still feasible, as I draped my hind hooves barely over the edge. The couch now made me feel really small; like I was in a dang dollhouse that had gone through the “honey I shrunk the kids” treatment. I almost felt like I was having a reversed claustrophobia right now… the whole room was huge, felt like it had changed completely… even though I knew that wasn’t true. I was the one that changed.
My thoughts turned back to me, and I brought my eyes down to stare at my new body. The orange fur with small tufts that went in defiant other directions, my newly articulated leg joints. I held a foreleg up and stared at that hoof, and brought it close as I tried to distinguish the leg from the hoof itself. The fur acted like skin, and completely obscured the connection; my foreleg looked smooth and absolutely seamless. Lastly, I had to glance at my crotch.
I was pleasantly surprised that I couldn’t make out much -- not that I wanted to -- due to the fur that coated me. I hummed, and leaned forward to look closer despite my feelings. Even as I ‘checked myself out’ I couldn’t make out all that much. Curiosity got the better of me and I spread a bit more.
Then it hit me. My apprehension, and therefore Ashley’s too, about being naked outside were almost non-existent. If I couldn’t make out hardly anything when I was intentionally doing so, then what chance did random strangers have when they were five feet away or so?
“Well, I guess that’s a good thing…” I chuckled sourly at that statement. It somewhat dawned on me what I had been doing, and my cheeks began to burn. The scruffy brown tail weaved over my midsection again, and instead of being annoyed at it, I clutched the fuzzy thing as security. Even that felt odd to me, clutching at an extra limb that I should not have.
I sighed half depressedly, then decided I needed a distraction. I grabbed the television’s remote in my forehooves and held it while I nosed the power button. The screen flickered on and the familiar scene of the news network greeted me. The male newscaster was still there, as was his newly ponified mare counterpart.
I sat back and listened. They were, of course, still talking about this strange phenomenon of people turning into ponies. They had a rough estimate now that the absolute craziness and confusion was beginning to subside; and the percentage seemed to be about thirteen percent or so on average to a country’s population.
I blinked, then quirked an eyebrow. So, it was around thirteen percent worldwide, or was it thirteen percent according to a country’s population? Before I could ponder it any more, the mare newscaster confirmed with a more down-to-earth explanation; it was the latter.
“Oh…” I said aloud.
“Already there are reports of violence against the newcomers,” the human newscaster announced passively. My ears perked and I sat up, my eyes focused on the screen.
The pink mare gave a grim nod. “Indeed,” she began, then shuffled her papers -- wait, how the hell…? “There have been two accounts of murder in downtown Tucson reported. A middle-aged couple, both ponified, brutally murdered in their home.”
The man gave a similarly grim nod. “Police and other law enforcement are stretched thin and underpowered as of now, but reserve officers are being brought in to follow up on investigating these violent crimes. However, some seem hesitant to even call these crimes ‘homicides’ as the change in species complicates things…” I couldn’t help but notice the flat side glance that the newscaster mare had on her face; the tell-tale signs of skepticism.
I had a very different reaction.
“What the fuck!?” I practically shouted at the TV in rage. “Seriously? Not homicides!?” I barely noticed as my wings poofed out behind me. “So, what, we’re fucking animals now? No different than if a damned dog gets hit by a car? That’s how it’s gonna be?” I growled hatefully with my teeth clenched, and the room felt like it had jumped fifteen degrees in temperature as my ears folded.
I seethed with outrage as I glared at the newscaster. Somewhere in the back of my head I knew it wasn’t his fault -- it was something that the police were saying, I guessed -- and he was simply announcing it. But since I had no arrogant policeman to buck in the face, it would simply have to be enough to send imaginative daggers at him. He caught his partner’s annoyed glance, and seemed to cow a bit.
“Hey,” he started softly. “I’m just announcing it…”
She huffed, but gave a small nod. “I know…”
It was his turn to shuffle his papers, and he gave an awkward cough as he continued the news broadcast. Wisely he chose to change the subject, and gave a passive report on the anomaly in sky; the same thing that had been heard a hundred times -- that the thing was not doing anything that we could detect and that the world’s governments had no new information to release. They also did a quick coverage of some minor earthquakes that had occurred the other day.
I slowly began to calm down as the subject changed, but oh man I was still pissed off about this latest news. Sure, things started off small now… but that’s how all bad things began. The police find brutal murders, and are questioning whether they are technically homicides. I mean come on! This was a no brainer. Of course they were homicides! Those ponies were human only days ago, so why the hell does this change things!
An even darker thought entered my head after that. Could we be facing second-class citizenship soon? The people that had been turned into these pony things? I had little doubt that it would happen in some third world countries… but here? In America? It just… seemed so impossible.
But… could it…?
The troubling idea left me a little numb as the news broadcast continued and moved on, leaving me behind in my turmoiled thoughts.
I sighed heavily once more and slumped against the couch cushion. My outrage had left me, and the vacuum was immediately filled with a cold depression. I knew I was jumping to conclusions, but what if that did happen? I did not want to live as a second class citizen, be thought of as inferior or not-as-good as others. In that moment I started thinking about Martin Luther King Jr. and the African Americans’ struggle for equality.
“Ugh…” I groaned into my forehooves and eyed the ceiling. “What a way to start the day…” I muttered with heavy sarcasm in my tone.
The desire for some fresh air hit me hard, and I hopped off the couch after turning off the depressive television. I grabbed a small neck pouch that Marcus and I improvised the night before, as well as my keys, wallet and cell phone. The door’s lock clicked shut, my studio apartment secured, and I trotted my way outside of my apartment block.
I couldn’t help the small smile as I pushed the glass door open and entered the outside air. One deep lung-full, and I joined the sidewalk with the somewhat loud clip-clop of my hooves. The day was rather cloudy with several of the large puffs dominating the blue sky, and it seemed likely to rain later today or tonight if the darkening gray was any indication.
“Hiya Sam!” I heard a familiar voice to my right, and my head followed suit. Chloe was lounging on the grass with a book underneath a tree, a teal hoof waved in my direction.
My smile grew a bit more, and I made my way over without hesitation. “Hey Chloe,” I greeted. “How have you been?”
When I got closer her smile wanned a bit and she quirked an eyebrow. After a few seconds, mine faded too and I asked. “Um, is something wrong…?”
She blinked, then gestured a hoof at me. “Not with me… with you.”
“Huh?”
“You’re bothered by something,” she stated plainly, but with a tinge of concern.
This time I blinked, followed by my ears folding again. “That obvious, huh?” I said rather downcast. I knew it was obvious and decided to simply drop any act.
She simply nodded, then gestured me to take a seat. With a quiet sigh I laid down next to her. A little ways off, the sound of a kid playing caught my attention. I glanced over and saw not a human boy, but a pony colt bouncing a ball on his face with a wide grin; dark blue coat with a two toned teal and green mane.
A small giggle brought my attention back to Chloe at my side.
“Yours?” I asked, my hoof pointed subtly at the colt.
Chloe burst out laughing as though I had just stated the punchline of the world’s most hilarious joke. I recoiled in surprise, my eyebrow quirked in puzzlement. What was so funny about that?
“No, no, no…” she started with a tone that suggested I was being incredibly silly. “He’s not mine as in son. That’s my little brother; Kevin.”
Oh. “Oh,” I answered back lamely. Well, at least I was kind of close. “So, he lives with you?”
Chloe nodded. “Mhm. Now what’s bothering you, silly filly?”
Silly… filly? Urgh, I mentally face hoofed.
Well there was no harm in telling Chloe, I guess. Besides, I think I kind of needed someone to talk to. I told Chloe about my day yesterday. Shopping with Marcus, his little prank with the shock collar -- that got a generous chuckle out of her -- and what happened when we returned. She immediately grew serious and asked me if Ashley was okay. I assured Chloe that she was, but I expressed my worrisome concern.
Chloe hummed softly for a moment, then rested a hoof on top of my own; my wings fluttered in response and I looked at her. It made my heart skip a beat at her sad gaze; I mean wow, sadness was deadly with these expressive faces. “The best you can do is simply be there for her, Sam.” Chloe gave a nod with her words.
I sighed again, but gave a small smile with a nod. “Yeah, okay…”
Chloe’s bright grin reappeared after that and she stood back up. “Alright then. I have to go shopping for food soon, so I’ll see you later Sam.” The mare grabbed the book in a hoof and tossed it on her back, where it stayed. A miniature me in the back of my head starred in shock with an agape maw. H-how did she do that!?
Before I could ask, she started walking away. She called her brother over and the two of them took off for their own abode, with me left with the question in my muzzle.
Eh, I’ll ask later.
I got back up off the grass and started back towards the apartment when I noticed a familiar chocolate skinned face. I smiled and diverted my trot towards him.
“Hey Marcus, what’s up?”
My friend looked up and waved me over. “Hey, come on, we’re gonna be late.” He beckoned me on faster.
I did so, but I also quirked my eyebrow. “Late? Late for what?” I had a sinking feeling about this.
Marcus shook his head. “Nevermind that, let’s go…”
I wanted to question further, but figured that it would be best just to ask in his car while we were on the way to wherever it was he wanted to go.
Hopefully this will be a better surprise than the news...
I hated car trips. Ever since I was eight years old I hated riding in cars for anything longer than five minutes; and even then that was a stretch. I was not even sure why; maybe it was sitting in one spot and being unable to do anything but sit there and wait until we arrived at the destination. Maybe it was anxiety and anticipation, the fact that where we were going was a mystery. I had asked my driver, Marcus, where we were going and he kept his mouth shut with that annoying smirk of his.
So I tried a different tactic.
“Are we there yeeeeeet~?” I whined and prolonged the last word in my sentence with a higher pitch of my voice. This plan came to be since Marcus expressed his desire to avoid ‘whining’ just two days ago.
“Oh God,” Marcus groaned with a slump in his shoulders as he drove. “Ponies and your whining. Ugh,” he groaned a second time and clutched at his chest as he side-glanced at me. “I need a heart transplant, stat!” He chuckled and then grinned.
I laughed. “Well, I’m sorry, I don’t even have the entertainment value of watching stuff pass by.” I rolled my eyes but grinned despite the failure of my plan. The way I started to figure it, we’ll get there when we get there; I just wanted something to distract me. “I’m a damn mini-horse now…”
“Pony,” he corrected.
“Whatever,” I exasperated jokingly with a roll of my eyes. “Isn’t it the same thing?”
Marcus shrugged. “Probably, but the term ‘pony’ is more accurate.”
I guess that made sense, especially if we were going with that.
I waited a bit longer, studying the leather of the interior of his car until I couldn’t stand it any longer. I looked back at Marcus neutrally as we raced down… where ever we were going. “But really… where are we going, Marcus?”
He gave me a side-glance, that smirk still on his face. “You’ll see when we get there.”
I sighed heavily once more and rolled my eyes before glancing at the silent unicorn that sat in the back seat -- Ashley. “Stop being obnoxious, Sam,” she spoke up for the first time since we began the car trip.
I felt my expression droop along with my heart at her morose look; it seemed she was still very much depressed over what happened with herself and her parents. Along with that, I could not shake the feeling that some of that depression came about by me stopping her from a successful suicide attempt. The image of her on my bath tub’s lip with that noose around her neck flashed in my head, and it made me involuntarily wince at the notion.
“Sorry,” I said quietly, but still held my gaze on her as I felt my ears fold. All I saw was the most down person in the world. It wasn’t her face that gave it away -- her long, black and green striped mane hid all but her frowning, gray muzzle -- it was her tone of voice. The whole time I had known her, all the years of grade school, high school, et cetera, Ashley had never been this despondent. There were times when life would stress her out a bit, where she got a little tightly wound, but nothing like this.
I mean, Ashley was never so peppy that she was bouncing off the walls; not to the extreme of that one pink pony, but the Ashley I knew wouldn’t just sulk like this.
My body lurched an inch as the car come to a stop, and I briefly glanced out the windshield. Above the dashboard I could see the red of a traffic light, and decided to make my move. I hoofed at the seat belt button, and after a few pokes the latch clicked and the belt slid up; which the buckle whacked my nose as it went. A sniff and a wrinkle later, and I started climbing over to the back seat. Marcus slid his arm over to give me room, and I gave him a small nod of thanks before settling on the floor of the SUV by Ashley.
The unicorn made no sign of acknowledging that my presence had shifted in the car as she continued to stare at the floor, her one uncovered eye partially visible. Her beautiful brown orb was red; my guess was that she had kept herself up all night, unable to sleep for one reason or another. If that wasn’t enough of an indicator, from my closer vantage point I could see that her mane was a little bit of a mess; either Ashley couldn’t figure out how to brush her hair -- she can’t manipulate a brush quite yet with her magic -- or she didn’t bother. My money would be on the last one.
“Hey,” I started softly. “Talk to me? Please?” I brought my orange hoof up to her gray one, giving it a small rub.
She sniffed, but didn’t look at me. “There’s nothing to talk about…” Ashley said simple with a monotonous tone. My ears perked, and I immediately knew she was just trying to be strong about the whole thing. Her pain was clear to me though; I’m not sure exactly why, maybe it was the overly-expressive pony faces, or it could even be that stereotype that women have a better perception to emotions than men. Either way, I could tell she was hurting.
“You know you can talk to us, right?” I asked again, and chose to include Marcus in this. True, I was the one that had romantic feelings towards her, but I didn’t want to forget that he was Ashley’s friend too.
She glanced up to the car seat, where Marcus gave a quick, smiling glance back at us before turning his attention back to the road. The light must have turned green, as the car lumbered forward and my side was briefly pressed against the seat’s cushion.
This time she looked at me, her one eye -- the other still obscured by her long hair -- looking back and forth as she searched my eyes for something I could only guess at. My love’s expression was just so dour that I could feel the tears ripping into my heart; she was hurting so very much. “Can I, Sam?” she questioned, her tone nearly carried an air of accusation to it.
Huh? What is that supposed to mean?
I blinked, caught completely off guard by the statement. “I don’t understand?” I asked, my head tilted a bit to the side and I felt one of my ears follow suit.
Her one visible brow furrowed and her frown deepened. “Can I?” she continued in that same tone, and briefly her eye glanced in the direction of Marcus in the driver’s seat.
Okay, I thought bemusedly. I do not like where this is going. Instead of replying I remained silent, waiting for her to continue with her point. All the while I had a rising knot forming in my gut.
She sighed and then turned her gaze to the car door. “Your parents still love you, Sam,” Ashley began somewhat quietly, though the building strain in her voice was apparent. “Your family accepted you… despite what happened.” As she spoke, her eye drifted down to her gray hoof and she frowned.
The phone call I had with Ashley’s mother immediately came to my mind, and it replayed within my skull like it was happening now. I felt myself bristle, and the muscles in my forelegs tensed. I knew about their opinions of my friend, their daughter, all too well. The dad was black and white; as far as I could tell he wasn’t about to accept this. Her mom, though, was somewhat of a different story. Now that I think about it with a somewhat level head, it was apparent that she did not want to turn Ash away. The distraught tone, her worry and concern, the fact that the first thing she asked me was if Ashley was okay; her daughter’s safety first and foremost on her mind.
Even still, Ashley’s mother had made me just as mad. It was the fact that she didn’t stand up to her husband. It was the fact that she didn’t stop Ashley from leaving. It was the fact that she obviously let this happen that made me condemn both of them.
I could feel my face heating at the thought of those two, and I immediately took a deep breath and then took a few mental steps back in an attempt to check my temper. Now was not the time to lose my shit.
“Ash,” I began softly. “They will come around.” I managed a small smile. Did I really believe that? Not as much as I would have liked to. I would love to wholeheartedly believe that they would take her back, no questions asked and without hesitation. But I had a feeling it simply would not happen. Or at the very least, not quickly and definitely not smoothly. Still, I wanted to give Ashley some kind of hope to latch on to.
The dour unicorn brought her eye back up to mine, and as soon as she did, I knew that my words had not helped at all. She huffed as her ears folded. “That’s easy for you to say, Sam!” She jutted a hoof at me as her tone rose, and I recoiled out of surprise. “You don’t have hardly any hardship to deal with here! Your parents still love you, your sister still loves you.” Ashley rolled her eyes as her head turned away from me again, the curtain of her long mane concealing her face from me. Her shoulders heaved once in a quiet sob as her ears remained pasted to her scalp.
“Not all of my family…” I interjected a tad heatedly. “My brother hates me now more than ever. And my own dad doesn’t even know yet!” Unless mom told him. I unsuccessfully fought back a snort. “And what is that supposed to mean, huh?” I sat up a bit straighter, my wings rose up slightly on my back. “‘I don’t have any hardships,’?” My eye twitched as I started to glare. “What!?”
I heard Marcus say something, but it was lost in a blur as my temper grew. “I wasn’t born a female, damn it! You know how to deal with these hormones and mood swings and all this bullshit, but I don’t!” I yelled, my wings standing up as much as the back seat foot area allowed.
Her head dipped a little, but I kept going on my tirade. “And do you have any idea what that did to me when I saw you trying to commit suicide!?” I jutted my hoof at Ashley, in the same way she had done moments before.
“Th-that was…” she choked a little, her voice quiet. “That was my… ch-choice…”
“Choice!?” I shrieked, appalled. “So you just decided that Marcus didn’t matter any more, that everything you’ve done didn’t matter any more!?” I grit my teeth and barely stifled a scream of outrage. “That I didn’t matter any more? What about the rest of your family, huh?” I barely noted the few tear blobs that splattered on the leather seat. Ashley’s head dipped more, and now her whole body was trembling.
“Then that was a poor fucking choice!” I stomped a hoof, emphasizing my statement. My own eyes close to tears as it felt like the interior of the car had reached sun level temperatures. “You’re a selfish idiot, Ash!” I screamed out. “You matter to us! To me!
“A-And,” I still went on, the water that had been building in despair at my eyes finally flowing freely. “H-how dare you make th-that choice without so much as talking to us first!” The anguish and rage in my chest overwhelmed my ability to speak any further, and I just hung my head between the back seat cushion and the hard plastic of the front seat. I was at war inside myself as I tried to regain control, but right now I would have had better success at fighting a hurricane with a spear gun.
I heard words, yet didn’t hear them. Instead I shook my head and tried to climb my way back over the cup holder center and sit back down in my seat up front. I stumbled and tripped over my recently acquired limbs, the short amount of practice I had had with them left me stupefied. I barely felt the pair of hands gently grasp me by the shoulders and set me on the car seat.
I looked up and blinked in surprise, and saw Marcus looking at me with a mixed expression. I don’t entirely know what it was supposed to be -- in large part because my own head still throbbed from just a few moments ago. I could tell that some of what I’d said must have annoyed him, as I saw that much in his dark eyes. But for the most part he just seemed sad, his normally jovial and joking smile turned upside down.
I sighed and tore my gaze away from him, and for once I felt like I needed to shove the thoughts of Ashley out of my head. I laid down on the seat on my side, not bothering with the seatbelt again; the thing was a pain in the ass to get on the first time, and I simply did not want to deal with it right now.
I closed my eyes to think better, an attempt to stave off the incoming headache.
Maybe I didn’t understand what Ashley was going through, maybe I couldn’t fathom the loss of my parents’ love or my siblings. Truth be told, Dan wasn’t such a huge loss. When he changed, it was gradual fighting and it had continued up until I moved out. It started off as small stuff; things that should have been just brushed off of our shoulders, but the thing is that those seemingly insignificant skirmishes tend to build up and accumulate, and then the pot boils over.
Our fights became more common and their intensity grew over time until we could barely stand each other anymore. He became so defiant and rebellious that I pretty much sided with the rest of the family. In retrospect that probably just made everything worse, since that gave Dan all the evidence he needed to fully believe that the ‘world was out to get him’.
My heart ached a little at the thought of our squabbles… and it puzzled me. Back in the day I never really regretted any of our fights, simply believing that it was all him and such. I would cool my jets with distractions, and time would dull the edge and then I would just forget about it.
But now…I’m suddenly recalling every single confrontation and argument… and wondering. Could things have been different? Could they have been better? What could I have done to avoid or defuse the situation at that time? My heart tugged at me in almost the same way it does when I think about Ashley breaking the news to me that she wasn’t interested.
I let out a small sigh that subtly broke the silence of the car. Marcus and Ashley had remained deathly silent after my breakdown.
Damn, I thought dourly. I already broke my promise to not to blow up at my friends. I don’t know if it’s mare hormones or not. It doesn’t matter though, the effect is still the same.
I’m such a jerk.
__---***::: <o> :::***---__
The rest of the car ride went on in silence as we continued down the road. My mind essentially went blank, as I did not want to think about what just happened. I knew I owed Ashley an apology, but I also knew that she owed me one too.
The only question? Do I wait for her to apologize, or do I make the first move.
I continued contemplating that query, and didn’t notice that the vehicle came to a stop. All the sound was there; the slight screech of the brakes, the clack of the keys as the idling engine died off, and the clicks as the emergency brake was put into gear. Except I just wasn’t there.
My head kept replaying what had just happened only a short while ago. Ashley had been sad, depressed, and bitter. We said things; things that, perhaps, should not have been said. We both needled each other with the things that were causing us grief since the transformation had taken place.
Disappointment clenched my heart as it hit me that my own troubles simply weren’t as profound as Ashley’s… and that quickly evolved to shame. I’m supposed to love her, it’s in my heart and has always been there, and I did that to her.
Yeah, I thought to myself. Except she’s not exactly innocent in this either. Images of her in my bathroom, bloody and hanging, flashed through my mind. The distant pangs of fear and terror briefly rose up at the memory, and my limbs wanly twitched of their own accord as I had to forcibly remind myself it was only a memory.
Innocent or not, though, I shouldn’t have said that to her. I should be supporting her through this, not trying to play up what I’m going through.
My guess was that I was still dealing with this whole ‘mare’ thing. I said I was fine, I felt fine -- as far as I could tell, anyways -- and it didn’t seem like that big of a deal after that initial hyperventillating shock wore off. And yet… I’m acting like this.
I huffed a little, still lost in my own thoughts. I need to grow up.
Before I got any further, the warmth of a hand gently shook my shoulder. For long seconds I just continued to stare at the glove compartment door of Marcus’ SUV. Shortly I brought my eyes up to him. He was standing just outside my car door -- he had gotten out and walked over to my side.
“Hey,” he spoke softly. “We’re here. You good?” Marcus asked. I glance to the side and noted Ashley standing off to the side, her back to Marcus and I.
I turned back to him and gave a wordless nod, then stood up and hopped down to the concrete.
We were in a neighborhood -- a familiar house with a colorful flower arrangement I had seen before. One that I knew tended to change every few months when their gardener saw fit. I shifted as my hooves felt the slight slant of the hard concrete of a driveway that I’ve been on many, many times before.
Great, I thought dourly. She must hate me now. I looked over at the colorful flowers, and they only partially raised my spirits as we made our way to the front door.
I stood back a little ways from Ashley. Part of it was to give her space, and the other was because I felt a little ashamed of what had just happened as the previous thoughts still wormed around inside my head. The obligatory fold of my ears accompanied that turmoil.
A moment later and my mother opened the door with a wide grin. “Hello you three!” She stepped aside so we could enter. I couldn’t help but smile a little -- she never failed to act cheery.
Although as soon as that feeling came over me, I also felt a pang of guilt as I briefly glanced Ashley. Her back was to me as she trotted inside after Marcus, but she greeted Mom nonetheless. It may have been my imagination, but I thought I heard a little strain in her throat.
I winced, but tried my best to hide it. “Hi, Mom…” I followed suit inside, my hooves joined in on the soft clop noises with Ashley’s.
Mom closed the door behind us and clasped her hands together, still with her grin on. “Excellent!” Mom began as she made her way towards the kitchen. “Anyone hungry? I wasn’t sure what to make, since you two are ponies now. So…” She started rummaging in the fridge. “I got these bistro-salad kit things from your workplace, Sam.”
I entered along with everyone else to peek at what she was retrieving. I blinked as I recognized the two-part tub she was holding. It was a curved, clear plastic bowl with a sectioned lid over the top. In the bottom was a variety of greens -- along with carrot and onion shreds. The top portion had toppings that could be optionally added; the one she was holding had what looked like chopped walnuts, small croutons and a tub of crimson sauce that could be none other than dressing or vinaigrette meant to be drizzled over the salad as a whole.
My mouth was instantly moist and my stomach chose that moment to speak up excitedly. Oh man, that looks good! Just about all I could focus on was the bowl in her hand… and I swear I heard an angel choir.
My ear twitched at a quiet slurp to my right, and that was enough to break me out of my trance. I glanced over in time to see Ashley turn away in a small blush. I smirked a little, but didn’t make any comment.
“Somepony’s hungry…” Marcus interjected with a chuckle as he folded his arms.
Ah, comedy. Save the day again, I see…
Mom quirked an eyebrow and took that as some cue. She reached back in the fridge and took out a pair more of the salad bowls and set them on the counter. “In that case I’m glad I bought a whole bunch of them,” she continued as she brought up a pair of empty cardboard boxes. “You’re taking these with you; I have a couple dozen of them.”
I gawked. “B-but Mom… you didn’t--”
She cut me off with a finger wave. “No buts, young mare. I know your pantry and fridge are sparse… and Marcus told me about how meat and other such products affected you and Ashley at the mall the other day.”
I turned my head back to Marcus, and he simply shrugged with a sheepish grin. I bemusedly stared at him and he then held his palms up defensively. “Hey… she forced me to, okay?” He still held that grin -- which meant it was likely a lie.
“Thanks then,” I said as I smiled back at him.
Well, it was kind of true. I’m certain that ‘sparse’ was an over exaggeration, but I could have done with some food; and this change in species does render some of said food inhospitable. I had chicken, bologna, and some other things that I would either have to throw out or give away to someone before it went bad. There were some canned things too, like ‘spaghetti-os and meatballs’ and other things with meat that I’d also have to part with.
I sighed a little as the realization again swept over me. I still wasn’t one-hundred percent sure that it would make me sick, but if the mall was any kind of hint… that answer would be a porcelain ‘yes’.
Mother prepared the four salads in actual bowls and set them at the table -- mixed up and ready with the vinaigrette on standby for the discretion of Ashley and I. As Mom pestered Marcus about what he wanted to eat, Ash and I climbed up to the table and began to eat.
I had been practicing with my wings a little bit and gained some dexterity in manipulating small objects. In my right wing I took up the vinaigrette and sniffed it appreciatively -- raspberry, extra-virgin olive oil, generic vinegar, and a hint of fresh rosemary. I drizzled the whole thing in, but held off on the second tub. The key here was not to add too much; things can always be added, but things couldn’t be taken back out. Once the dressing went in, it would stay in; so moderation was the secret to not overpowering the salad.
That done, I took the fork in the same wing and began tossing the salad as my forelegs braced the bowl. I grunted as the fork slipped from my wing, the force of stirring the salad almost too much for my feathers to grasp. My mind wandered a little bit and I made a mental note to ask Marcus how feathers could act so much like fingers, just with diminished strength.
How was Ashley fairing?
I glanced up to see her already half way done with her salad, the bowl noticeably empty. The same yellow glow enshrouded her unicorn horn as well as the fork; she seemed to be using her telekinesis effortlessly now. Or at the very least when it came to using a utensil to eat with.
“Hey,” I spoke up with a smile. “You’re getting really good at that.”
She looked up after taking another bite and swallowed. “Oh, this? Well, yeah…” Ashley managed a small smile. “I practiced non-stop when you two left, and I kept at it when I went home with Marcus…” The fork levitated over the center of the table, and with her mind and magic she twirled it elegantly as though she still had human fingers.
“I can only do it for so long, and I still can’t lift much more than an empty mug,” she paused with a sheepish grin as her ears folded back. “And, um, I’m sorry about breaking yours, by the way…”
I waved a nonchalant hoof. “I’m not worried about it. I have, like, three more and I barely use them anyways.” That was a lie, more or less, but I didn’t want Ashley’s rising mood to deflate over something so stupid as a replaceable coffee mug that I got from the dollar store some time ago.
She smiled weakly, then went back to her salad. Marcus joined up with a microwaved T.V. dinner while Mom took the other seat with some of the leftovers I observed the other day.
It still boggled me how good greens and such tasted now as I dug back into the salad with fervored gusto; well, as fast as I could manage with this new style of eating. I had to poke and prod to get a decent amount of veggies impaled on my fork before I had a satisfactory bite. I’m not sure how I didn’t notice it before, but chewing with flat teeth felt very different than before as well.
“So,” Mom spoke up, still having that small grin. “How have you been adapting sweetie?” I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me, Ashley, or both of us. Though her eyes were watching the floating fork as Ashley neared the end of her meal.
I waited a few seconds to see if Ash would speak up first, and when she didn’t I decided to do so. “Well, it hasn’t been too bad so far.” I blinked as I tried to mentally recall the challenges. “Um, walking seems easy. I don’t have that many complaints about lacking fingers… well, not yet anyways… it’s still a bit early to tell.”
“Have you tried to fly yet?” she asked, giving more of her attention to me.
I grinned sheepishly. “Uh, yeah… at the mall I tried to fly up the steps at the theater… and, um, I crashed…” I ended with a light chuckle, then hastily added, “I’m okay though.”
Mother stifled a small grimace, then smiled again. “Oh, I see. I’m glad to hear that you’re using your, um, wings… but please be careful.”
I gave her a nod and a smile. “Of course. I can’t really say that I know what I’m doing, but, yeah… I’ll be careful.”
Even as I said that I knew that I wanted to get up there and soar. Immediately I began questioning. How high could I go? How fast? As well as questions with that show. Could I manipulate clouds? What about that sonic rainbow thingie, could I possibly do that? I could feel my grin growing at each question as I absentmindedly munched on my salad.
I paused as I felt eyes on me and looked up. Mom was smiling, but I could see the worry behind that kind look. I blinked and calmed myself down. “Hey, I mean it… I will be careful, okay?” I emphasized that point by reaching over my left forehoof and placing it on top of her hand gently.
That worry faded from her eyes a little bit and she gave me a nod.
A light chuckle made my ears twitch and I glance at Marcus. “What’s so funny?” I asked, one of my eyebrows quirked in curiosity.
He smirked and pointed at me. No, wait, he was pointing behind me. I blinked in confusion and twisted my head to look… and was met with my wings fully extended behind my back, as well as my tail as is swished back and forth out the back of my chair.
“Dangit…” I muttered sullenly as my ears pasted. I blushed hotly and groaned as I tried to lower my wings. Ugh, this was so embarrassing! Are they going to do that every time I get excited over something!? For the first time it dawned on me just how bad that’s going to be. It’s essentially the same as an erection, but it’s public and on display for everyone to see.
Ashley was smirking at me a little bit, as was Mom; my own mother! Ugh, God kill me now.
“You didn’t lose your manhood, Sam,” Marcus chimed in mirthfully. “It just moved.”
Wow… seriously?
My blush deepened to the point that I thought the heater had been turned up to full blast. “I hate you…” I muttered with my head still planted firmly on the table.
There was more chuckling from Marcus, but I didn’t respond further as I reminded myself that he was just lightly teasing. I didn’t need, nor want, to snap at him for it. Even if I had really wanted to, any desire for that would have melted away as I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up and saw that the hand belonged to my mother.
“Really, now, Marcus…” Ashley spoke up as she gave a mild scowl to Marcus. “Do you need to crack a joke like that every time at things like this?” Her tone was simply unamused, but she wasn’t outright chewing him out.
She came to my defense, I thought with a small flutter in my heart. Maybe… maybe she’s not as pissed at me after all.
Marcus shrugged a little. “I guess you’re right…”
I sensed an apology coming, so I spoke up first. “Hey, it’s alright, I guess…” I managed a smile with some ease. “I know you’re just joking.” I then turned that smile into a smirk. “And you shouldn’t apologize; it doesn’t suit the devil horns on your head…” I finished with a wink.
We all shared a laugh at the light jab and finished up our meal, then migrated to the living room to continue talking. During that time I noted two things missing. First, the muffled beats of heavy metal rock were absent, as was a pesky yet lovable blonde girl.
I looked over a Mom, still in the kitchen as she was finishing up the dishes. “Where are Shelby and Dan at?”
Mom looked up with a neutral expression. “Shelby is visiting with her friend, Terry. Dan is… out.” She finished with a roll of her eyes at the last word.
I nodded. That made perfect sense, I suppose. Dan never told any of us where he went. Any time we would ask, he’d simply respond that he was going ‘out’ -- and that was if he’d give any answer at all. I shook my head a little at the thought of his arrogant behavior. Still, I kind of wished he was here right now. I wanted to apologize to him for that kick. Warranted or not, I shouldn’t have really done that. In all likelihood he would just brush it off with either a threat or a ‘yeah, I don’t give a shit’.
I was glad to hear that Shelby was spending more time with Terry; although I wished that she had done so a little sooner. I wanted to know whether or not her friend was ponified as well. Call me nosy, but I wanted to know.
“And what about Dad?” I asked.
Mom sighed a little and eyed the ceiling. “Haven’t heard a peep from him in days. He’s still at work. My guess was that he is still dealing with a lot of backlash and chaos from all the ponification that’s been going on…” She scowled a little and huffed in annoyance. “He hasn’t even bothered to call me.” My mother crossed her arms as she said the last sentence in irritation.
I nodded once more.
That makes sense, I thought to myself. This would make Dad pretty busy.
Even so I also wished he was here. I had been feeling anxious ever since waking up in my apartment as a pegasus pony mare. In fact, with the exception of my coworkers at my job, only my family and closest friends knew about me; Dad being the only loose end.
“Does he even know?” I asked again. After a second I added with a hoof pointed at my chest. “I mean, does he know about me, yet?”
Mother quirked her eyebrow at me. “No, he doesn’t know. I just said he hasn’t so much as called me, remember?”
I facehooved. Oh yeah…
“Sorry,” I chuckled with a small grin. “Head still partially reeling from this whole thing…”
Mom nodded in response then joined us in the living room.
“Things seemed to have calmed down a little,” Mom said as she reached for the T.V. remote and flipped the screen on. Just like with my own, the channel was tuned to CNN.
We all turned towards the screen and was greeted with the same pair of newscasters; the same human male with combed back brown hair, as well as the dark pink mare with the blonde mane and tail. I smiled at the sight of her, glad that she still hasn’t been booted from her job because of what happened.
“The final death count is below what some experts expected,” the mare said with a small smile. “The initial estimation was greatly over-exaggerated. The same can be said for the number of injuries; most humans and ponified victims escaped their accidents with little more than scrapes at best, or a broken bone at worst.”
Her male anchor nodded. “Indeed. Due to the initial chaos and the short-staffed facilities all over the country, everything seemed far worse than what it was in reality. With the initial panic over, things are predicted to return to a semblance of normalcy and organization within a week.”
My smile grew a little more and I straightened up in my seat as my ears perked. That was good news! I thought the worst when Marcus and I made our way to Ashley’s that first day, thanks to all the wrecks we drove by.
“Oh thank heavens,” my Mother breathed a sigh of relief, and Ashley nodded in agreement.
Marcus crossed his arms and huffed. “Eh, they always over-exaggerate these things. There wasn’t a whole lot to worry about; most of the wrecks we saw the other day were little more than fender-benders,” he stated with a small roll of his eyes.
“Yeah, but there were some pretty bad ones,” I chimed in. “I remember at least one multi-car pile up.” Marcus simply nodded in agreement.
The news anchors continued with a few logistics and reports before moving on to another subject. “Police are still investigating the circumstances behind the ponified couples’ murder,” the now stoney-faced mare announced with a little bit of a dour undertone to her normally professional stature. “The investigation turned up very few leads.”
She nodded to her counterpart, whom continued, “That’s correct. The investigators involved are keeping tight lips over most of the details, but have released a few photos and statements regarding the crime scene. Viewer discretion is advised; these images you are about to see are not suitable for children below the age of eighteen. If anyone is hemophobic, we strongly suggest that such viewers look away.”
I blinked at the announcement and reflexively tensed. Must be bad if they’re actually warning people to look away; which made me wonder if CNN could actually show these images or not. In the end I decided to chalk it up to the usual craving for ratings. Typical.
The first picture showed up in the corner to the right of their collective heads, then zoomed in until it engulfed the screen as a whole.
Oh my God…
I felt my spine crawl as my jaw dropped. The scene was… bloody. The photo showed what could be anyone’s living room; sofa, couch, an entertainment system, et cetera. Except every surface has some splattering of red crimson. Most of it was long-since dried and darkened, but some of it was still fairly wet. On the three seat, blood-soaked sofa was a body underneath a black sheet. I squinted as I tried to make out details. The announcers already said that the victims were a pair of ponified people, but it was easy to tell that the body was equin as the sheet followed the unique curvature of the splayed hind legs and the contours of a pony’s muzzle. Just off the side of the couch was a tuft of tail, neon green with spark of purple with some matching long hairs sticking out from where the head was. Lastly, joining the partially revealed tail were some hemp ropes; whoever had killed those two had also tied them down.
As macabre as all that was, there was another detail that stood out to me -- and likewise it made my blood chill as though I’d suddenly stepped into a freezer. There was a small lump at the figure’s forehead; it wasn’t long enough to be a horn, but it was clearly there. I could only think of one possibility.
The murder had sawed off the horn of what used to be a unicorn.
I gulped as my ears folded and felt my wings twitch. Who the hell would do this, and why? What did they ever do to deserve that? An anger rose in my chest, but it was largely drowned out by the sheer horror of the scene. Even more so it seemed like the crime was made simply because those two had become ponies against their will. The memory of those white-robed individuals at the mall came to my mind. Could hey have been responsible, or someone like them?
I hesitantly glanced around the room. Mother looked pale and had her hand up to her mouth, her eyes glued to the horrible sight. Ashley likewise had paled, but like me her ears were down and she was retreating into the sofa cushions like she wanted to get as far away from the T.V. as physically possible. Marcus was the smart one and had his head turned away and his eyes closed; though there was a powerful scowl on his features that laid his opinion of the situation down clear as day.
I take it back; I’m glad Shelby isn’t here to see this right now. I had no doubt that this would have given her nightmares for weeks.
The picture disappeared and the morose visages of the newscasters reappeared in utter silence. The mare anchor looked especially disturbed, her ears bent back just like ours. She coughed a little and made to shuffle the papers in front of her. “Y-yeah….” she stuttered a little, then recomposed herself with a deep breath. “Police arrived on the scene to find the couple, bound and gagged, already dead. The, uh… victim on the couch had her… horn removed, sawn off with a hacksaw found in the kitchen sink. The other body was found in a similar state in the upstairs bedroom, with…” She paused for a few seconds and looked like she was going to be sick, but steeled herself and continued, “The second victim was found with a gaping hole in his chest, their heart missing.”
At that point she lost the will to speak and sat there quietly. She glanced a few times at her partner in a silent plea for him to continue while she tried to regain her composure again. “P-please excuse me…” She got up and left without another word.
“Alright Sylvia,” The male anchor nodded, then coughed a little as he turned back to the camera. “No further atrocities have been reported, but local police officials are staying vigilant. They ask that if anyone has any information leading to the perpetrators to please call this hotline, CNN directly, or the local police station. Any and all help will be greatly appreciated in bringing them to justice.” As he spoke a trio of phone numbers appeared at the bottom of the screen.
Alright, that’s enough of that. I trotted over and hoofed the channel button, and the T.V. promptly changed to a movie station showing a re-run of Red Dawn the remake.
I sighed and took a breath, “Well, what else are we down here for, Marcus?” I tried to change the subject -- anything was better to talk about than what we just saw.
Mom was the first to recover as she blinked several times. She nodded and stood up with her smile -- though it was a few notches lower than it had been earlier. “I have something you and Ashley might like.” She got up and moved off into the master bedroom.
I nodded as she went, and called after her, “We’ll be there in a minute.”
At that I moved over to Ashley and sat down on the floor in front of her. She was again staring at the ground, her forelegs trembling. “Hey,” I spoke up softly and put a hoof on hers. “I know it’s bad, but… we shouldn’t dwell on that, okay?” I managed a small smile and she looked up at me.
Ashley didn’t return that smile, but instead gave me a small nod.
I widened my own a little. “Okay, good…shall we?” I motioned towards the bedroom with my other hoof.
This time she did smile, and gave me a quick hug before trotting away to join my mother in the bedroom. My heart fluttered as well as my wings as a wan blush came to my face. I watched Ashley until her long tail disappeared around the corner, then turned my attention to the only other occupant.
“You alright Marcus?” I asked.
He was still brooding over the whole thing. Before I could say anything else, he suddenly stood up, his left fist balled. “I’ll be outside,” he said tersely, and I could tell his teeth were grit. Marcus strode his way out the front door, leaving me alone in the living room as I watched in partial shock.
I blinked. I’ve never seen him like that before. It was so unlike him to get so upset over, well, anything. I looked at the T.V., despite the fact that the channel was showing something different now, and couldn’t help but wonder. It was bad, there was no doubt, but did that really get under his skin that much? All evidence pointed to that being a confirmed ‘yes, it most certainly did’. This must have had something to do with him liking that show, but I couldn’t be sure.
“Well,” I said quietly to myself as my ears folded yet again. “Yay for another problem to deal with.”
I hated to see Marcus so upset, and it darkened my heart. Once he cools off I'll see if, maybe, I can cheer him up. A strong part of me wanted to go now, and I almost started off for the door to follow. My ears bent as I reminded myself that Ashley and Mother were waiting for me. Even still, I loathed having to choose like this, and it felt wrong to try and rationalize it by saying that he needed time to simmer down.
With another deep breath to relax my frayed nerves, I made my way to the bedroom to join my mother and love.
“Hey guys?” I asked to the closed door to my parents’ master bedroom. Mom and Ashley had just entered. “I’ll be there in a little bit, ‘kay?”
“Sure honey!” Mom called out from the other side of the door, her tone regaining some of her cheer from before. I also heard a happy squeal that must have come from Ashley.
My ears perked and my eyebrow rose up at the noise. And just what had her so happy? I wondered.
Oh well, I shrugged and turned away from the door. I’ll find out soon enough.
I trotted away towards the front door where Marcus had stormed off. I knew it would have been better to let him cool off on his own, but the worry growing in my chest wouldn’t let me leave it be. I wanted to make sure he was okay and not, I don’t know, punching a wall or something. I had done so before at work and broke my hand some half a year ago, because one of my bosses was being a complete moron. Broken bones were not fun!
“Hmmm,” I glanced at my right fore hoof as I walked. Did that injury carry over? I thought, then paused to sit back on my flanks and rub my wrist experimentally. After the bone had healed it left a small knot on my hand -- the doctor said that that was natural, and nothing to worry about.
I felt around what would be my best guess as to where the knot should be… and found nothing. I hummed as my brow creased, then prodded around secondary suspects on my hoof. Several prods later and I still could not find the little healed bump. Setting my left hoof back down, I gazed curiously at my right.
Could the ponification have reset my body in some aspects? I thought to myself. I didn’t dare say or think ‘that doesn’t make sense’ or the opposite, as I still partially feared for my sanity from this whole mess. But it was kinda weird though. Now that I thought about it, I brought my hoof up to my temple and took stock of my old glasses that had not been perched on my face ever since that first morning; that and the stark, twenty-twenty clarity of the world around me.
So, in addition to a species and gender swap, it seemed some flaws and old injuries had disappeared as well. I grinned like an idiot. Totally not complaining about this.
I chuckled quietly to myself as I got back up and made my way to the door and Marcus again. The front door was little challenge since the mechanism was that of a lever and not a knob -- thank God. It gave in to my hoof powers easily and I slid the door open.
Immediately I saw Marcus just a few yards down the path, his back to the house and myself. I smiled and started trotting towards him -- then stopped as my ears perked to his voice. Only now did I notice he was on his cell phone, talking -- no, nearly yelling -- at whoever was on the other line.
Marcus never yelled, I thought curiously with a tilt of my head. His body language completely kicked my thoughts out the window; his unoccupied hand was balled in a fist at his side, and he was pacing just a few steps at a time, always turning just short of trampling on the flower beds at either side of the concrete walkway.
Okay, he wasn’t actually yelling, but his tone suggested that he was barely holding back a livid anger that I had never seen from him before.
Thanks to the traffic of the four lane next to the house, I couldn’t quite make out what he was saying -- and my twitching ears were trying, too. I took a few cautious steps, slow and steady so my hoof clopping doesn’t give me away.
“-- not be what I think it is, Alex…” Marcus said, then paused as someone else said something in the phone, too quiet for me to pick up.
He sighed exasperatedly, “Good. I saw the news and… yeah… mhm… alright, I’ll be there…” Marcus hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket, the call obviously over. He sighed heavily once more and brought his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“What were they thinking,” he muttered, crossing his arms as he did so. “I told them no, that it’s ridiculous…”
Curious. Who’s this ‘Alex’ and what were they talking about? He mentioned the news -- was he talking about those two murders? I stood there contemplating as Marcus did the same with his back to me still.
Well, no use thinking about it now, I guess, I thought as I watched him. Don’t make assumptions Sam. You don’t have the full picture.
I took a deep breath and pushed away the thoughts of the phone call I had eavesdropped on, and waited another few seconds so I could avoid suspicion -- it’d be a little too convenient to tap his shoulder right now.
Thirty seconds later, I decided it was time to check on him.
I took another breath, and then started flapping my wings until I managed a hover. That same weightless vertigo appeared in my hooves as I suppressed the urge to scrabble for purchase on the ground that was no longer under my hooves. A few seconds and feet later, and I was just about eye level with Marcus. I tilted forward ever so slightly until I was right behind him, then tapped his shoulder.
He turned around and my face was a mere inch from his. I grinned real big and shouted, “HEY BUDDY!”
“Gyah!” he yelled in surprise -- then he fell.
I watched him land on the concrete from my hover, my grin gone. “Oh jeeze! You okay?” I halted my flapping and landed with a light clop next to him.
Marcus groaned and rubbed his back as he looked at me. He rolled his eyes with a smirk, and for some reason I blushed while grinning sheepishly.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said as he got back up. “Just don’t do that, okay? You’re way too cute when you do that…”
Well he seems to be oka-- wait, what!?
Did he just call me cute? My blush deepened for some reason and I stumbled over my words.
“Huh?” I nearly squeaked. Tell me he was joking. Tell me it was a semi-snide remark.
Marcus blinked blankly for a moment, then looked away.
I felt my eyes go wide. What…?
He coughed then looked at his watch. “Hey, I need to go take care of some stuff. You and Ashley going to be okay here for a while?”
I stared at him for long moments as I still tried to process what just happened.
“Uh-huh,” I said blankly.
Marcus smiled at me… then started walking back to the car. He waved as he got in, me watching him the entire way. I didn’t stop until his car pulled out and drove away.
He called me cute. I repeated in my brain; the blush hadn’t quite gone away as a small smile tugged at my --
GYAH! No! I shook my head rapidly. No, no, no! Bad mare body!
-----------------------------------------
I waited outside for just a few minutes more so that the blush could recede in its entirety, watching the traffic go by for entertainment. I also found some enjoyment in Mom’s flower garden that lined the concrete path, the multitude of colors and scents pleasing to my eyes and nose, and I couldn’t help but lean over and sniff a few.
I’m chalking it up to more pony abilities, but I swear these smell so much better now. The fragrance was so much… more enticing.
I frowned at that train of thought, and while I wasn’t hungry, food came to mind.
“Ponies eat flowers, don’t they…” I rhetorically asked myself, still gazing at the flowers with a quirked eyebrow.
I hummed, tilting my head at the plants and wondered just what they tasted like. Surely it couldn’t taste any different than bland grass or something… surely it’d taste horrible, right? Or would it be the same kind of deal as some regular foods, where they’re kind of an ‘acquired’ taste?
I sighed a bit at my lengthy pondering that was getting me nowhere. “Here goes nothing…” I then chuckled. “Hope Mom doesn’t find out…” And with that, I bent down and snagged the head off of a blue tulip with my teeth, and started to chew thoughtfully.
Well, I was only half right. It didn’t taste horrible, but it wasn’t like I just bit into a delicious treat either. It seemed to have a mild taste as I chewed the pedals, almost like a french fry that had no salt added to it after coming out of the frier. There was a small crunch and I paused; then there was an almost berry-like sweetness flowing into my mouth.
“Whoa~” I blinked, then chewed more after my pause. I don’t really know anything about plants, but if I had to guess I’d say I just crunched the nectar bulb or something -- the same thing that bees must harvest from to make their honey.
I swallowed and licked my lips, “Wow… who’d have thought….” I quirked an eyebrow and smiled at the plants -- and wondered if the other colors had a different flavor to each one.
Ever the curious, I bit off the bulbs of one flower after another; two other colored tulips, a daisy, and a red rose, though I nearly bit too far into the thorns. And I was right. Each flower had that initial dull taste until that hard bud was popped. The tulips had essentially the same berry-like sweetness while the daisy had an almost citrus kind -- which seemed odd to me. The rose though… that one sent me for a trip! I couldn’t pin the flavor, but it made my mouth tingle a bit.
I kinda wanted to try more, but I had to stop myself. If I kept eating, Mom would undoubtedly notice… and then I’d be a dead pegasus. I chuckled nervously at the thought and backed away with my ears down. “Er, yeah…” I quickly walked back to the door and entered the house again with a sigh.
I frowned a little as I felt my heart pounding a bit, holding a hoof to my chest. My back twitched and I looked to see my wings were up again. I rolled my eyes and groaned, “Oh come on…” I thrust my hoof to my forehead and then forced the damned things back down.
“Damn wingboners…” I muttered again and made my way to the bedroom door, then knocked a tad harder than I meant to. “You two still at it?”
“Yeah,” I heard Mother’s voice again. “Where have you been honey?”
Eating your garden. “Just talking to Marcus,” I partially lied. “I think he’ll be okay. Are you guys decent? Can I come in?” I smirked a little at the absurdity. Here I am, naked, asking to come in and I’m asking them if they are ‘decent’. Irony.
The door opened a moment later, and I couldn’t help but jump a bit before entering. I looked around at the familiar bedroom. “Alright, and just what have you… been… up to….”
My words dropped off as I caught sight of a familiar gray unicorn. My eyes danced over a familiar set of clothes that she usually wore whenever we went and did stuff -- except tailored to fit perfectly on the new pony body she had.
My eyes danced over my crush. Blue jeans -- the regular kind, not the skinny ones -- hugged her hind legs and flank with her long tail sticking out of an expertly placed hole near the waist. A long sleeved, white undershirt covered her torso and fore legs, with just a few inches of her hooves exposed by both that and the jeans. Lastly she had on a purple, collared jacket whose sleeves stopped just above her elbows. It was my favorite casual outfit that she wore, and just like how it accentuated her human form, it did a lot for the pony version too.
Pomf.
I winced at the audible noise and the all-too-familiar twitch on my back, which triggered that contemptible blush to reappear on my face.
God damnit…
Ashley had a beautiful, happy smile on her face, her mane actually pulled back in a ponytail with one of her purple scrunchies. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she had forgotten everything bad that had happened in the last few days as she looked at me.
“You like, hmm?” She chuckled, then twirled around just to tease me. And by God it worked so well!
“Y-yeah,” I squeaked, my unblinking eyes glued to her.
Mother was smirking off to the side, but I hardly paid her any mind.
Ashley looked down at her old ensemble, a contented and warm look on her face that voiced her pleasure. “Thank you so much… I can’t begin to tell you how much I hated not wearing clothes,” the unicorn said gratefully, then briefly shivered before adding, “And in public too.”
Mom chuckled, then said, “You’re absolutely welcome Ashley, dear. Please, by all means, bring your whole wardrobe…” She smiled happily, then looked at me. “You too. I don’t know how long it’ll take for stores to make and sell pony-clothes, but I don’t want you two spending a fortune just to replace the old ones.”
I nodded, and eventually my trance on Ashley faded to a faint throb in my chest. “Okay, s-sure.”
“Oh!” Mom clasped her hands together and leaned off the wall she was on. “I modified some of your clothing a bit more, Sam.” She walked into the master bedroom’s closet that was in the bedroom.
I turned to follow --
“Eeep!” I squeaked again as something yanked on my rear, preventing me from advancing. I looked at my tail and noted the faint yellow glow surrounding it.
Ashley giggled as I looked at her, the horn on her head awash in the same aura color. “No peeking~” she half sing-songed.
I stared as I was held in place by her… magic, and tried to yank myself free. “Since when do you have that much strength with your magic?” I asked, baffled by this apparent fact. Back at the mall she could barely lift a fork without passing out, and before she had levitated dishes and stuff, and tugged my tail hard enough for me to yelp back when -- stopping right there.
She chuckled again with a small, adorable roll of her eyes. “Well, I’ve been obsessing over this ‘magic’ thing, truth be told.” Ash gave a nod and then let my tail sag back down, the aura faded around her horn. After that she gave a deep breath and wiped away a couple beads of sweat off her brow. “I practiced at Marcus’ too, but it’s still so tiring. I kind of want to hurry this along, you know?”
I gave a nod with a warm smile. “Yeah, I can imagine…” I said as I gazed back at my wings, reminded that I have not yet given these puppies a real flight yet. Sure, I somewhat flew at the Mall, but that didn’t really count in my opinion; it wasn’t the same as soaring in the great blue skies. Maybe that’s why I’ve been feeling so restless lately…
Mother returned right then, a bundle of fabric carried in both of her arms. She hefted the pile onto the bed with a huff, then leaned back with a breathless tone, “Okay! I changed a few things and modified some of Shelby’s old clothing for you, Sam.”
I blinked as she stated that, “Some of Shelby’s…?” I questioned. Mom nodded in response as Ashley merely grinned. Oh boy…
“However, the first thing you need to get used to is the new underwear, dear,” Mom spoke as she picked up a pair of panties, and I blushed hard as I stared at them.
“Wh-what!?” I squeaked, and took a defensive step back. P-panties!? Was she serious?!
Mother rolled her eyes at me, “Yes, Sam… panties. It’s just underwear, stop being a baby…”
Ashley giggled, “Hey, just be glad you don’t have to fool around with a bra, Sam~”
I stuttered and gasped, still in shock at the revelation. My eye twitched as I looked at each of them and the mischievous smirks they wore. My eyes must have widened impossibly as it hit me, and I sucked in more air. “Y-you’re… you two… you’re enjoying this! Aren’t you!?” I looked between them again as though I were cornered by two predators that were after me.
Mother sighed a little, then held the pink undergarment for me to see. She pointed at a hole near the hem, sewn with stretching fabric. “I adjusted them with a hole for your tail.” She tugged on it with her finger and the opening stretched. “It will comfortably let your tail through without squeezing too tightly,” she explained, but I was still fighting hyperventilation at the fact that she wanted me to wear them.
Ash nodded. “Mhm. And so far they feel pretty good.”
So she’s wearing a pair too, huh? For some reason that calmed me down a little bit. I don’t know why, but it did. But this wasn’t even an adjustment for Ashley, though… I mean, my entire life I had worn just plain boxers and now I have to wear these? It felt wrong in every which way, even though physically it was right. It was a change that I wasn’t even sure I was ready fo--
I eeped as I felt an arm slide over my back, over my wings, and then a hand on my tummy. My hind hooves were lifted a few inches off the ground. “It’s not so bad, Sammy, once you get used to it you’ll see it’s not a big deal…” Mother’s warm voice said to me as I gazed back.
While I was distracted with my confliction, she had knelt next to me and started working the underwear around my hooves and up my hind legs. My face burned in perhaps the hottest blush I’ve had since turning into a pegasus mare, and I gazed back at Ashley as my ears folded. She was smiling, but not in that ‘smirk’ that said it was a derisive enjoyment -- basically not the mocking kind that I would have expected from Marcus.
I kept my eyes on Ashley, using her calm demeanor to anchor myself into sanity as Mother worked. The garments finally hugged against my flank and waist, and my mother fed my tail through the hole and… it did feel comfortable. When Mom got back up, I turned my side around to get a better look. The panties hugged against me, snug but not tight. And now that they were closer I realized they weren’t some frilly-frilly lacy kind of thing like I initially thought -- aside from being pink, they were ordinary. They even had the same waistband logo as my old male boxers.
“Okay,” I said uncertainly as I tried to let my heart rate subside. I stepped around a little bit, trying to get a feel. “Okay… they are kinda comfy…” I admitted quietly.
My mother squeed with a clap of her hands, and Ashley smiled at me. I grinned back bashfully, then started to take them off when Mom’s hand stopped me. I looked up at her, and instantly knew why. “I need to practice it too, I mean, so I can dress myself…” I smiled up reassuringly, trying to let her know that I wasn’t doing my usual thing of only pretending to like something.
Mom blinked, then oooh’d in realization. She didn’t remove her hand yet, though. “Well, dear, wouldn’t it be better to practice with full clothing than just one piece?” she suggested.
Huh, I blinked. Yeah that makes sense.
I gave a nod and reversed my work on taking the panties off. “Okay, yeah. Makes sense, Mom.” I smiled up at her, and actually managed to relax. It slowly dawned on me that this wasn’t as big a deal as I was thinking. My mother was only trying to help me, because she loved and cared about me deeply. Ashley was showing her silent support for me, and that small smile was far better than the moping unicorn I saw earlier. That alone sent my heart aflutter and I felt my eyes moisten a little.
Almost immediately I felt a hand on my shoulder, “Honey?” the owner asked with concern.
I shook my head and wiped my eyes with a hoof. “I’m okay…” I answered with a smile. I really was. “Let’s continue, please.”
Mom nodded and gave my shoulder a final squeeze before she got back up to the bed. She removed a few other articles. “Now, just something to consider, but skirts are quite comfortable too when you want them.”
I sighed a little as she held up said skirt in front of me -- a plaid navy blue that had small curls at the bottom. In my more relaxed state, I had little reaction unlike what I had with the panties. I gave her a nod and sat back on my flank. Mother worked the skirt over my hooves and I stood back up while she worked it up my hips, then finally my waist. The skirt was a little long, but was short enough that a few inches of my hooves and tail were exposed at the bottom. I glanced back, and felt the security that clothing provided at not having my privates for the world to see, and it made me feel so much better.
Mother came back with two more articles -- a long sleeved collared shirt that was also navy blue, and a red sleeveless vest with a v-neck. “I had to adjust the flexibility for the head, since they seem to be quite a bit bigger than compared with a human’s own… and I added these slits for your wings. They should be long enough that they glide through.”
Indeed they did. As Mom put that first shirt on, my wings had no trouble finding the added holes, nor was it uncomfortable getting them through. In practically record time both shirts were on, and for the first time in days I was again fully clothed. It was a feeling that, before now, I didn’t realize how much I missed.
Mom stroked her chin as she drew to her full height, looking at me quizzically. “This ensemble needs something…”
Ashley hummed where she sat. “I agree…” Her eyes widened and she gasped after a moment. “Oh! I know!” Her horn lit up and from a clothing pile behind her, a maroon scrunchie floated out in her yellow aura. She smiled as the thing came closer to me, and I felt my mane on the back of my head being drawn out. The scrunchie went on, and I guessed that now I had a ponytail just like hers. I flicked my head a bit, and that brought the long end of the tail over my left shoulder.
Mom giggled as I blushed. “Perfect!”
“Uh,” I said, rubbing my foreleg with the other. “Thanks, I suppose… h-how do I look…?”
Ashley was the first to answer, “You look cute, Sam…”
I blinked at the soft and friendly tone she used, and looked back in the same manner. She called me cute, I thought as my heart again fluttered away to a blissful wonderland. Ashley apparently liked the way I looked, and if that pleased her, then I didn’t care that I was wearing clothes meant for a female.
In my peripheral, Mom wheeled over her stand mirror and I looked myself over. I had to admit that I liked how I looked too.
I sighed and felt my eyes moisten again. “Thanks Mom… this means so much to me…” I gazed up at her and… I couldn’t contain it. I reared up and hugged her around the waist as far as I could reach. A moment later and she hugged me back as best she could; it was a little awkward thanks to our now radical difference in height, but that warmth was there in spades. Her fingers ran through my mane, and it was comforting in such a warm way.
I blinked my eyes opened and glanced at Ash as a wave of guilt washed over me. I parted the hug as gently but as quickly as I could. But surprisingly the unicorn didn’t get a sour expression, she didn’t even have a vague sense of sadness that I could see. I was still concerned and opened my muzzle to ask --
“Mmph!” I blinked in surprise as her aura again lit up, and my muzzle was held shut.
“Don’t say it Sam,” Ashley said in a warm, but semi-stern tone. “I’m okay, and you don’t need to censor the love between you and your mother around me. I’m…” She paused to search for the words as her head tilted. She frowned now, but not in a sad manner. “I guess I’ve come more to terms with it, I suppose. Besides, I… still have you…” Ash smiled again, then blinked as it disappeared. “And Marcus, too.”
I smiled as she spoke, then nodded. She released her magical grip on my mouth, and I spoke up. “Okay, Ash. Still, I’m sorry if it does sting and…” Now or never, Sam. “I’m sorry for what I said on the way over here…” I frowned as my ears folded simultaneously, and my eyes searched my love for her reaction.
Ashley smiled as her shoulders sagged a little, “Yeah, I am too… that wasn’t right, what I said earlier. We both had rights to how we felt, but…”
“That didn’t make it right to say them to each other,” I finished for her and grinned a little. She blinked in surprise and then returned that same warm grin. We stared at each other for a few moments in silence. The old, suppressed feelings I had towards her resurfaced and my heart swelled. That’s the Ashley I knew and loved.
I took a deep breath as I felt a wave of pent-up tension leave me. I was glad that was out of the way, and that things seemed to be okay now between Ashley and I; or at the very least, as a glimpse. Heartbreak and the end of a fond friendship was too horrible to comprehend, not when I wasn’t ready to give up. I never wanted to lose Ashley, ever.
Mother looked between the two of us curiously, and crossed her arms. “Should I ask?”
I winced as I briefly forgot that Ashley and I weren’t alone in the room, and she seemed to do the same. “I, uh…” I stammered, trying to come up with a believable white lie to get us off the hook.
Ashley sighed. “We had a bit of a fight on the way here. We’ve both been stressed over things, and we got a little vocal with each other.” She smiled a little, and lowered her forelegs so she was laying down in that pony style. “But everything is fine now. We’re okay, right Sam?”
I hesitated a moment, then nodded. I’m glad that Ash stepped up to the plate on that one. I did not really want to explain to Mom about what happened back at my apartment, with finding Ashley injuring herself and then… yeah, I don’t even like to think about it.
Mom frowned, apparently she didn’t like being kept out of the loop on things right now. If I were to guess, her ‘mother instincts’ were going berzerk. For a moment her gaze bore directly into mine, and I could not help but flinch as I gulped. Oh please don’t ask… please don’t ask me what happened…
What felt like an eternity of tension later -- for me, at least -- she sighed with her eyes closed. A moment later and that concerned smile reappeared. “I won’t ask,” Phew! “But if either of you want to talk about it, my ear is always available.”
Ash and I nodded simultaneously voiced our thanks.
Mom nodded afterwards and spoke back up with a topic change, “Okay then. I have some things that would be of more practical use for you as well.” Mom again retreated to the master bedroom’s closet, and swiftly returned with more items.
She knelt on the floor and held up what looked like a wrist brace. “I altered some old wrist braces to become cell-phone holders and hoof-wallets.” Mom held the device up for us to see, and we both moved closer. It was a compilation of two velcro straps that were meant to hold it to our forelegs, and attached to that was a padded case for cell phones with a magnetic lid. The second pouch, which she opened to reveal slots for cash cards and IDs, was the wallet she mentioned -- this one used a snap button to hold things.
“I made the wallet a little bigger so it could hold things like your keys without bulging and damaging the fabric,” she added.
I smiled as I took one of the offered wrist-wallets, and managed to get it strapped around my left foreleg after a few tries. Ashley got hers on far quicker than I could since she used her telekinesis to get it into position. Man that unicorn magic is awesome, I thought with a tinge of jealousy once more.
“Awesome,” I said, toying with the new thing. “Now I’ll be able to fly without worrying about dropping my stuff.” Before now I had simply used my wings as an impromptu, improvised pocket. The problem with that, I had to keep said wings folded down to keep the stuff from falling out.
Ashley nodded in agreement with a hum. “Yeah, this will make things much easier.”
“I’m glad you two like them,” Mother happily smiled. “I also have these…”
I looked over as Mom picked up a pair of objects I was vaguely familiar with. She held up a pair of double backpacks with buckling straps. I had seen those before; or rather, the style they represented. In that T.V. show, some episodes had the ponies wearing ‘saddlebags’. Things that were like backpacks, but instead of the pouches being directly on their backs, they hung from the sides.
“Saddlebags,” I said.
Mom looked at me as she was about to speak, and Ashley quirked an eyebrow at me.
“Uh…” I blinked, then looked back and forth between them. They saw the show, right? “They’re from that cartoon that Shelby likes. Twilight Sparkle and her friends wear them when they travel to a dragon’s lair to stop him from snoring and…”
I trailed off as their looks turned to smirks. It took long moments for me to figure out why they were looking at me like that. Oh hell….
“No!” I spoke up loudly, shaking my head. “No, I do not like that show!”
Ash giggled. “Are you sure? You remember quite a bit about it… and I don’t remember watching what you just described when we came down here the first time…” She gestured a hoof at me and quirked an eyebrow.
Oh double hell… Great! I just inadvertently gave away that I was watching the show afterwards! Good job, Sam!
“Okay, fine…” I grumbled, admitting it with a fold of my ears. “I was watching it. I wanted to learn more about pegasi flying and junk…” I rolled my eyes as I blushed. That was the more believable lie I could come up with -- the truth was that I was bored, and the show was very entertaining and cute…
Mom laughed a little and put a hand on my shoulder. “There’s no shame in it, Sam,” she said kindly.
I sighed a little. “I guess, I dunno…” I laughed with a grin at the irony. “Wow… everything going on right now and I’m getting more flustered about watching a cartoon instead of this…” I gestured at my dressed up equine mare body.
We all shared a small chuckle and --
The bedroom door suddenly opened and my brother walked in. “Hey Mom, I--” Dan trailed off as he noticed it wasn’t just Mom in the room. All three of us turned to silently stare at him, and he stared back -- or, more specifically, at me.
He blinked once, then twice, then scowled. “So you’re crossdressing now?” he asked with a half-baked form of suddenly conjured contempt. If I didn’t know he was mad about that kick to the groin before, I certainly did now. Dan looked like he wanted to knot me one. He grinned a little, but in that condescending, arrogant way. “Always knew you were gay…”
“Dan!” Mom scolded, but my younger brother had already turned and left.
“Well hello to you too…” I said sarcastically after him, through my own deadpanned expression.
Mom sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering something about what she was going to do with that kid. “I apologize sweetie…” she said after a moment.
I shook my head at her. “No, don’t apologize for him.” I smiled back at her.
“Your brother is quite rude…” Ashley said rhetorically as she trotted up next to me. “I mean really… that’s going to be the honest-to-God first thing he says to you when he gets home?” she said with a small mix of disbelief and a shake of her unicorn head.
I chuckled. “Well, I’m not one to actually defend his punk-butt, however…” I looked at myself in the nearby mirror, the same ensemble still hugging me. In particular I stared at the maroon addition to my mane. “To him I must look like a crossdresser, since all of Dan’s life he’s known me as his older brother… not his older sister.” I shrugged, then added, “And a pegasus pony to boot doesn’t exactly help.” Ash nodded in mild agreement.
“No,” Mom spoke up now, her voice irritated as she stared flatly in the direction that Dan left, her arms crossed. “But that is no excuse for bad manners. You are still family, and still his brother… all things considered…”
I hummed in half-hearted agreement. “Well, anyways, I need to go apologize for that kick a few days ago,” I said, but I didn’t really sound like I wanted to. “But first I need to change clothes.” I can’t go to him in a skirt and with a scrunchie in my hair. Or at the very least, not right now.
Mom nodded, then retrieved a pair of light gray shorts for me as Ashley took out the scrunchie from my mane. “You don’t have to apologize to him, you know…” the unicorn said.
I nodded as I sat back on my haunches and removed the skirt. “No, I know I don’t… but it’s just the thing to do,” I said reproachfully. “I was worried that I’d injured him earlier. I know he appears fine, but still. That was dangerous and I didn’t realize my own strength.”
Ashley scoffed in disbelief. “A few days in a hospital would do him some good, I think.” She rolled her eyes with a scowl, then winced. “Er… sorry.” She looked at my Mother.
Mom waved a hand at her. “Oh no, I completely agree.” Wait, what? That statement caught me off guard, the skirt halfway off as I stared at her. “I think a good ass-kicking is just what Dan needs, perhaps.” She then looked at me. “Not by you though, Sam… it needs to be someone else that does it, or I doubt it would have the desired effect.”
I thought for a few moments, then nodded. “I guess that makes sense.” I sat the skirt aside, lower half covered only by the pink panties, then took the offered shorts that had been modified for my pony form.
I waved Mom off as she attempted to help me with the tail, but told her I needed to do it myself, and simply said that I had to learn. She nodded, but clearly wanted to give me a hand still.
I hummed a moment, again admiring the solid work Mom had done with altering my old clothing. Truthfully everything felt the same, almost as though I hadn’t changed at all, even though I clearly did. Even more pleasantly, I realized, panties didn’t feel physically weird at all; mentally was still another can of worms entirely, but eh.
“I’ll be back in a bit, guys,” I said as I trotted out the door and was about to make my way to Dan’s ‘lair’.
“Hey.”
My ear twisted as Ashley spoke, and I turned my head around to look. “Yeah, Ashl--oh.”
I trailed off as she hugged me with her forelegs around my neck, a little shocked at the sudden hug she was giving me. “Thanks, and be careful okay?” She pulled off and smiled at me, a bang of her mane falling out to hang in her face.
I smiled back and nodded. “Sure.”
Ashley gazed back at me a moment later, then moved back to the pile of clothes. She started to fold them along with Mom, preparing them to be transported where they needed to go. I stood there and watched for a few moments, my heart warm and fuzzy from the close contact. I sighed ever so quietly in my throat, then continued on with my original task.
My warm smile dissipated slowly as I walked, and said trot slowed down significantly as I went.
I stood outside the bedroom door that led to the lair of the beast; Dan’s bedroom. Just inside I could hear the loud and spine-chittering beats of rock music blaring. With a shake of my head I knocked on the door.
“Hey,” I rose my voice a little bit. “Dan, can we talk?”
After a short wait it became clear that there is no way he heard me over the obnoxious noise from his boom-box. I mean honestly, how can anyone listen to music that loud and still have their sanity!? Seriously!?
My muzzle curled in a frown and I rolled my eyes. I rose a hoof and knocked a good bit harder, just a few clicks shy of full-on banging on his door. “Dan, come on! We need to talk! I know you can hear me!” I nearly shouted at the door.
I waited, now with one of my hind-hooves clicking impatiently on the tile floo. No response came as I had been waiting there for nearly three minutes.
My eye twitched and I contemplated turning around and bucking the door open, then smashing his God-damned boom-box into shards of plastic rubble and shattered electronics! His attitude is just… just… unacceptable! I could nearly feel the vein throbbing in my head as I glared at the closed door.
Ugh, I closed my eyes. Stay cool, Sam, he just can’t hear you, that’s all. He’s not purposefully ignoring you.
Even as I thought that my brain’s sarcasm kicked in with a ‘Nope, he’s ignoring your orange flank’. I sighed again and wondered if I should just try the handle. For the moment I could not remember how I garnered his attention in the past when I needed it.
“Pfft…” I muttered with a roll of my eyes. “Probably because it is an orange flank.” I finished with a flat stare at the door. “Oh, fuck it…”
I reached a hoof up and used the lever of the door. It gave to my touch, and I was only halfway glad it was unlocked, and swung open to my push.
Dan’s room was a stark contrast to the clean, neat and orderly rest of the house in that it was anything but clean, neat and orderly. It almost looked like a tornado had come in and ripped away everything that was not nailed down. Stacks of random books and papers, some of which I saw were music sheets, along with Red Bull and Monster cans galore; there was even a small pyramid of the silver and black cans on his computer desk. Dirty clothes littered the floor, so much so that it became difficult to tell at a glance if his room was tiled like the rest of the house -- which it was -- or still had carpet. Dan’s things were strewn about in a chaotic and unorganized manner. His bed had no frame, just two mattresses with the sheets crumpled and wadded up like a used tissue. It was not due to financial neglect on our parents’ parts, it was how he liked his bed… for whatever reason.
My God…My eyes took in the human-made disaster of teenager living. How can he live like this? The exception of piled-to-the-ceiling junk aside, this was the kind of room that you would call the Hoarder specialists on.
Again, even as I thought that, I couldn’t help but smirk slightly. While my own room had never gotten this bad, it was far from clean. Now I remember why I never really jumped on him for it, because I was much the same way. With that in mind I weaved my way in a couple feet, trying not to step on anything that was his.
Dan sat in his computer chair, a guitar resting on his leg as the boom-box still boomed, forcing my ears back. I looked at him with a quirked eyebrow as he tuned the strings, wondering how the hell he could make any kind of attunement adjustments with all this racket in the background. Eventually he noticed me in the room and reached a hand up, turning the music down until it was barely a thrum in the room.
“What do you want?” he asked, his arms crossed and resting on the body of the wooden guitar. He stared at me flatly, probably irritated that I had come into his room myself. Whatever though, I have done so before.
I chuckled a little. “Well, I’m so sorry to disturb King Rock…” I gave an amused snort.
He rolled his eyes and resumed tuning the guitar, testing and adjusting each string semi-absently.
I paused for a little bit, remembering why I initially came here. “Dan, look,” I started off as kindly as I could muster. “About the other day-”
“What about it, freak,” Dan interrupted without looking away from his ‘important’ task.
This is gonna be like pulling teeth, ain’t it…
I sighed and fought the urge to roll my eyes. “Well, this ‘freak’ would like to apologize.” I stared flatly at him as what was supposed to be a simple apology got that much harder. “I shouldn’t have kicked you.” I got it out quickly, but hopefully not too quickly. After all, I wanted it to be at least halfway genuine for my own sake. I meant every word, but apologizing to someone like Dan was like trying to excuse Hitler of the Holocaust by saying he was ‘misunderstood’.
Dan scoffed at the very idea. “And what the hell makes you think that I fucking care?” Again he did not bother to look up, like looking at his older brother - sister, I had to remind myself - was too tall of an order.
The urge to growl grew in my throat. “Because, asshole, I could have hurt you.” Without my knowledge, my wings had unfurled high on my back and my ears folded. Though I felt anything but timid right now.
Now that I called him an actual name, Dan finally looked at me. That typical scowl of his turned into a sarcastic-as-hell grin, and he finally took his attention off of his guitar, crossing them over the instrument’s main wooden body.
“Oh, so now you care,” he said, voice dripped with condescension. That grin turned back into a scowl. “You can stop trying to act like Dad, Sam.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not trying to act like Dad, but someone has to keep you in line while he’s busy.” I made my point with a light stomp of my forehoof.
We had had this argument before. Dan did not like that I got on his case for the way he acted, and often thought that I was trying fill Dad’s shoes. Did not help that he was rarely around. I, at least, understood why; his job kept him occupied elsewhere in the country. Shelby understood too, even if to a lesser extent. She was the opposite of Dan, though, as she was just saddened by the situation.
“So what is it that you think you can do now, huh?” Dan was challenging me now, as he usually did. Problem was that I was now at a pretty extreme tactical disadvantage, and trying to intimidate him back down was impossible.
I stayed silent for the moment, considering my options.
Dan answered for me. “Not much, that’s what.” He jabbed a finger in my direction and my eyes narrowed. “You got lucky, and don’t forget it. I’m done being pushed around by you, and you’d best get used to it, missy. Now fuck off.”
-----------------------------------------
“Rotten little… Arrugh!”
I stomped the concrete for not the first or last time just outside the front yard. The ‘apology’ had gone about as well as I had expected, with me completely pissed-off and more than a little red-faced. My wings had mirrored my mood again as they stayed high, and not even a couple more sweet-tasting tulip heads from Mother’s garden could soothe my ire.
I looked at my forehooves and frowned. I was still shaking, ever since I had left Dan’s room and the house. I took more deep breaths and closed my eyes in an attempt to calm myself. The truth that I did not want to admit to myself was that I was not just angry. No, my smaller stature made me a little bit afraid, now. Dan’s words were a thinly-veiled threat, one that I had little doubt that he would act on if he felt it was appropriate… and there was a lot that Dan thought was ‘appropriate’.
I shuddered involuntarily, and summarily chastised myself for it. I hated that I felt this was about my own family, deserving asshole or not.
I growled as my damned eyes started to water. “God-damnit, body! Stop it!” I rubbed furiously at my face. These damned mare hormones are getting on my nerves. Why am I constantly fighting the need to cry now? It was like a bad freaking stereotype or something!
I sighed and just sat there, watching the traffic roll by on this mostly cloudy day.
“Well,” I started to myself. “Look on the bright side, Sam. You’re hated by him no matter what you do…” I sighed bitterly, ears pasted on my head, and said head lowered to the ground. Grappling with this bad mood was getting me nowhere as problems kept nesting themselves on my shoulders. It even felt like I had made no progress at all with this weird-ass transformation and everything.
Right then I wished that Marcus would pull up and whisk me away to have some kind of fun or something. Hell, I would take one of his dumb jokes or pranks - even the shock collar -- to get out of this funk. Ashley and Mom were still folding clothes - or were done, most likely, and were now chatting about more designs and projects. Even so I did not want to bother them. If I brought my problems to them, it would just sour the mood. Mom could handle it, but Ashley was another story and did not need any more negative news. I had to protect her the best I could, even at my own expense.
I sighed and just let my front half droop onto the ground. I groaned aloud and just wanted things to go away. Is this that typical ‘I-want-to-just-disappear’ feeling that I hear so much about?
Damnit!
“All right!” I growled, forcing myself back to my hooves and back into my sitting position. “I need to do something, or I’m gonna drive myself crazy!” I yelled the last word, and that seemed to help a little bit as I looked around for something to occupy me..
… and came up with nothing.
Shit… Just what am I supposed to do? Marcus is off God-knows-where, I don’t want to disturb Ashley and ruin her mood, and Shelby is off with her friend.
I did not revel in the irony of a loner not wanting to be alone. There had to be something! Anything! I looked around at the cars, the other houses, and the very occasional stranger that would pass by on foot.
… and then I looked up.
I glanced back to my wings, then back to the sky as it clicked.
‘... I have not yet given these puppies a real flight yet.’
My dour frown instantly became a daredevil grin. “Oh, hell yes!” Just like Ashley had been practicing with her horn, I so needed to get on my flying! I nearly forgot I was a pegasus, as hard as that sounded.
I set my sights high and stretched my wings wide. The exhilaration was already coursing my veins and I had not even left the ground yet. The mere thought of flying was… incredible.
Drawing on my limited experience, I repeated the same steps that I did at the mall. This would be one-hundred-percent different because I was outdoors with that big blue sky, my only worry would be the clouds.
I flapped, putting more strength in those initial bursts to get my hooves off the ground, and within no time I left the concrete behind. I nearly wobbled, still not completely used to this whole flying business. I imagined that that would simply come with time like everything else that I would have to get used to.
Before too long I was several feet above the ground, rising a few feet at a time every several flaps. I grinned despite myself, my heartbeat rising and the adrenaline seeping its way into my system.
My God, I’m flying! I squee’d, taking safety in the fact that no one could possibly hear the embarrassing noise even this high up.
Enough of the kid stuff, Sam! I thought to myself and turned my gaze up higher. I drew upon what I watched from My Little Pony and decided it was my best option right now. I flapped harder and tilted myself forward, pushing my forehooves and hind-hooves apart for stability.
Higher and higher I went, the world below becoming smaller and smaller. I had been on planes before, watching as the country became like small toys. But to see it happening before my eyes and by my own power, it was another sensation entirely. By now I was hundreds of feet above the ground, the streets, houses, cars and other stuff far below me seemed so small now. My excitement overpowered any sense of fear or acrophobia.
“Woohooo!” I cheered, attempting a dive and letting the wind whip at my face and blow my mane back, before angling back up.
My height gave me the safety barrier I needed to not have to worry about smashing into the ground. It was a good thing, too, as I lost my stability every now and again, falling for a few dozen yards before I could right myself. It was panic inducing and I may have screamed… once or twice… but it was worth it! I have never felt so alive in all of my life!
It was definitely a learning curve and I would have to take my time and practice, but it was doable for sure. One thing I thought would be a problem, as I flew higher and higher up almost to the point of the cloud level, was the thinness of the air. As it stood now I was closer to the clouds that dotted the sky than I was to the ground, and I thought it would get harder to breathe, but to me it seemed like it was not even an issue. My lungs fought for breath and my body ached, sure, but that was chalked up to exertion rather than lack of oxygen.
Eventually the white puffs of clouds were almost level with me. They were closer to me now than the ground was. At that moment it seemed like a good idea to rest, my muzzle open and panting as my wings ached uncomfortably. Pushing myself a little further, I went for the nearest cloud.
I always knew that clouds were like icebergs, in that they were supposed to be larger than one would think. This certainly held true as the cloud was as large as a multi-story complex, rather than a puffy fluff of white.
I hummed softly as I was now above part of the cloud. It swirled gently beneath me, like fog but only slower. “Time to see if this works,” I said to myself.
My flaps slowed and I descended gently onto the white body. A better idea seemed to glide down, so I let my wings stiffen and straighten out at my sides. At least if I was wrong, I could recover well before there would be any danger of falling.
My hooves touched down, then sunk for maybe an inch before there was resistance. Actual resistance, like I was walking on snow.
I blinked, surprised that it actually worked. My grin grew wide and idiotic. “Oh my gosh I’m walking on a freaking cloud!” I poked at it with one hoof after another, excited beyond measure that it was really true!
Clouds were made of water vapor, but strangely it did not feel wet. Perhaps it was because the cloud was largely white and did not have a lot of precipitated water in it. Whatever the reason, it meant I could sit down without worrying about getting wet. So I sat down pony style and relaxed, peering over the edge at the world far, far down below.
It was beautiful in a strange kind of way. Interesting to see the ground from so far away, but not be moving at hundreds of miles per hour. There was very little wind, but I was not the least bit cold way up here. I even felt an odd sense of peace, like this was meant to be and I was right where I should have been. Even the restless feeling I had this morning subsided.
This is what I needed. To be in the open air.
I sighed and laid my head down at the edge, watching the very vague details far down below. I did peek, albeit lazily, to see if anyone else had been flying since I could not be the only human that was turned into a pegasus. I already knew I was not, as the memory of the store cashier came to mind. What was her name…? Amanda, I think. Perhaps I need to talk to her a bit more. Like me with Chloe, she could probably use a friend during these weird times.
Mmmm, later… too comfy right now.
This cloud even surpassed the comfort of the pet bed that we bought earlier this week. All I needed was a blanket and I would be, dare I say, on cloud nine. My eyes grew heavy with the desire to sleep, and my wings laxed out to either side as I relaxed.
The world melted away. What little sound there was went with it. The slight chill was of no consequence, chalked up to my fur coat keeping me warm, helped along by my mother’s mended clothing. The vague thought of how impossible this was, the fact that the cloud was supporting my full weight without problem, casually crossed my mind. Nothing about this was right. It should not have been possible. It seemed like it could only be a dream. But there was one distinct difference about this train of thought.
I did not care.
I sighed aloud, taking in the fresh, cool air. Air that likely has not been breathed by others for quite some time, it was so fresh. I could stay up here for hours.
Too bad I can’t just stay here…
I sighed again, this time with a little bit of depression as that inconvenient fact washed over me.
A little bit longer, I told myself in that familiar way, whenever the alarm clock signaled that it was time to get up. The view alone was too good to give up.
My ear twitched and I paid it no mind the first time, lost in my thoughts over Ashley and Marcus, the events of the previous week casually playing through my mind.
Though, when my ears twitched a second time, and then stayed perk did I pay attention. There was a dull rumbling noise, and it was steadily growing louder. By granules over the next several seconds. Curious, I brought my head up and looked around.
As expected I saw nothing. Not a soul was up here with me.
Then what am I hearing? The noise was growing as I looked around again, trying to see what could not be there. It seemed that as time went by the noise got louder and louder. My anxiousness grew, something made my heart beat faster as I stood up, some instinct telling me something was off.
With both ears I tried for a direction, eventually drawn to the thick, white puff cloud next to me. My brow furrowed and I continued to watch.
My ears folded as the noise became a steady roar. Eyes narrowed as they tried to pick out the source. I saw lights. Three in a horizontal pattern.
That almost sounds like…
The coldest chill ran down my spine as the Boeing 747 passenger jet burst from the cloud wall, dispersing the vapor in only seconds. It couldn’t have been more than a hundred yards away.
And it was heading straight for me!
I was frozen where I stood, fear gripped me like a vice. I had never seen a Boeing from the outside before, only once on the inside when the family moved to Italy for a few years. All I could hear was the roar of the engines, and my impending death.
I am not even sure if I was screaming; my jaw was open, my throat hurt, but I could not hear myself. The last moments came and my eyes squinted shut, the last image I could see was he vague silhouettes of the pilots in the cockpit.
I am so dead! I knew I had to move, but I couldn’t! I was a deer in headlights and that was almost very literal!
The roar of the plane bore down on me, blocking out everything else like a megaphone directly next to my ear. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. Either I had stopped screaming when my throat gave out, or did so when I curled into a ball on instinct, a futile attempt to protect myself from the inevitable.
This is how it ends… I’m sorry, Ashley, Mom, Shelby… everyone…
Something slammed into me, and then a deafening whoosh tore at my body from above. Something else compressed me, and I felt as though I was falling. No, wait, I was accelerating? Faster than I would have been if I was falling.
Huh?
I blinked my eyes open and was met by half my vision obstructed by fur. Steel-blue fur. I blinked again and now noticed I was hugged close to another pegasus equine’s barrel, and looked up to the pony’s muzzle. A short-cut, emerald green mane whipped around in the accelerated wind with dark, daring eyes and an equally confident smile. The plane soared above me as it continued on, unaware that it was spared from having a red splat-stain named Sam on its nose.
He glanced down at me, the angular muzzle giving away his gender as well as his voice. “That wasn’t too smart, girlie,” he joked.
My cheeks flared and I grumbled at being called ‘girlie’. God-damnit…
“Okay,” I spoke up tersely. “You can set me down now.”
My mystery savior nodded and moments later he plopped me down on another nearby cloud. This one much smaller but with enough room for the two of us, yet small enough that we would easily see anything else coming, provided it wasn’t directly below.
I sat up and dusted myself off as he landed next to me.
He chuckled, amused as he tilted his head. “Should keep a better eye out when flying less than a mile from the airport, girlie. Planes tend to not be very gentle.”
I frowned and stared at him. “Yeah, I noticed. Can you not call me ‘girlie’?”
“Why not? You’re a mare, aren’t you?” He chuckled again and sat down near my side… perhaps a little too close. I had to bear it for now, though, because if I tried to scoot away I would fall off the cloud. And with my body still quite shaky, that was not a good idea. I must have had a gallon of terror-induced adrenaline running through my veins.
I rolled my eyes at the semi-obvious statement. “Yes…” I growled softly.
He merely took this in stride and chuckled. “Why so uptight…?” He leaned over and bumped his side into mine. I smiled a little bit, despite myself.
I hummed and glanced down. We were high up, sure, but not so high that we were at cruising altitude.
He saw me looking and must have guessed. “The plane was in takeoff. I was watching it go until I saw it about to hit you.”
I nodded. “Makes sense.” I then looked over at him and smiled gratefully. “Thank you, by the way.”
He smiled back while looking directly into my eyes. “You’re welcome.”
I smiled the same, then blinked. “Wait, in takeoff? But we’re on a cloud. Shouldn’t we have been much higher than that?”
He hummed at that, then nodded. “You’re right, but…” He lifted his hoof and pointed upwards.
I followed his hoof and looked. Above us was another cloud layer higher up, and various other clouds at different levels. I always thought that clouds stayed at relatively the same altitude. Was I wrong?
Somehow the prospect seemed unsettling, like the very idea was all kinds of wrong.
“Oh well,” he continued as he lay down on his forelegs. I wanted to do the same but I just could not do it.
“It’s a nice view, huh?” he then asked.
I looked out over downtown Tucson. It was no New York or Las Vegas, but it was still a sight to behold; especially so far up and not in the confines of a (deadly battering ram) airplane.
“Yeah, it is.” I relaxed some as everything seemed to brighten in the face of such a simple pleasure as enjoying a breathtaking view. Warm memories of our family trip to the Grand Canyon came to mind. Shelby ohing and awing at the rock striations and the sheer size of the famous hole in the ground. Dad had managed to snag a vacation and Mom set up the whole trip, and back when everything was perfect. It seemed like that was the last time that we were all happy with each other.
Something soft came to a rest on my back.
I blinked and glanced behind me to see a steel-blue wing stretched over my back.
Aaaaand suddenly the peaceful serenity was replaced by all kinds of red flags and warning sirens.
“Gyah!!” I jumped and scrambled to the side, then nearly fell off the cloud. With a grunt I caught myself on the cloud’s ledge and stared back at him.
He stared back, surprised at my reaction until he came to his senses and offered to help me up. I politely declined as my face burned, then used my own wings to hover back up and settle on the cloud, this time a little farther away.
Once my heart had calmed down again, “Please don't do that.”
He quirked an eyebrow at me and his ears folded back. “Sorry, I was just…”
I cut him off as lightly as I could, “No, no… It’s okay, I just…” I trailed off to reconsider. Should I even tell him? “I’m…”
He waited patiently for my response and I reflexively bit my lower lip. “I-I just…. Uh…”
Now I could not find my damn words! It was as if a cat had jumped up here, purred ‘mine!’, snatched my tongue and then ran off.
What do I say? Oh, I’m a transgendered pegasus mare that used to be a human male and I don’t swing that way. Yet, what if I am stuck like this, which may very well be the case? With this in mind, does that even matter now? I sighed deeply and stared down at the far away ground in bemusement.
“It’s complicated,” I finally answered with a whisper.
I do not believe he got the point -- at least not fully. “Well, must be bad news for a girl to tell me that,” he lightly joked, though there was still an ere respect.
I huffed only a little bit.
For a time we sat in silence, admiring the view and watching the daily activities of the ‘ants’ far below; because that is what they looked like from way up here.
After a while I noticed something. “Say…”
“Hm?” He asked softly.
“How long have you been flying? I don’t see any other pegasi up this high yet.”
“Oh.” He perked up and then sat up. I followed. “I started the very first day, when --”
“You woke up like this?” I softly interjected with a knowing smile and he nodded in turn.
“Yup.” He spread his steel-blue wings high and wide, and I noticed mine were smaller by comparison -- but not by much. “Ditched everything because I wanted to get up here. I feel a sense of freedom that I have never had before now.”
I nodded and could not help but agree, though something stood out that seemed amiss. “Wait. You ‘ditched everything’?”
He nodded again as he folded his wings back down. I waited for him to elaborate.
“Parents passed on when I was young and I went to foster care. No other siblings, and plenty of friends that weren’t really friends.” He paused with a small sigh.
Oh… My ears bent back at this news, even though he seemed at peace with his decision. “So you’re not going to go back? What if…” I paused. “What if you could change back? Would you?”
My thoughts went to Ashley as I asked and the possibility of having her again. I still was not sure what I would do if that possibility became a reality or not.
He shook his head readily. “No, I don’t think I would if given the choice. Mine was a mundane and boring life, and I’d rather have something more.” He looked back to me and smiled softly, one that I returned after a little bit.
The soft roar of another jet in take off -- this one a blessed distance away -- drew our attention.
“We probably shouldn’t stay up here for too long,” he said as he stood up on his hooves. “The thinner air we could probably get used to, but not right off the bat, girlie.” He gave another smile.
I gave a nod, knowing that he was right about that. I also made a mental note to get myself used to said thinner air. The last thing I would want is to lose consciousness mid-flight.
“That’s true,” I answered in kind and was about to leap off, when I paused. “What’s your name?”
He opened his muzzle, then closed it as he was left to his thoughts. He glanced back to his spread wings and smiled. “A new life needs a new name. Mind calling me Steelfeather?”
I chuckled. “Might want to give the name a little more work, but sure, Steelfeather.” He smiled in turn and I offered my hoof. “Mine is Sam.” I could have used ‘Samantha’, but I just was not ready yet.
Steelfeather ‘shook’ my hoof with his own and we laughed at the awkwardness. For once I did not mind the lack of fingers, as it ended with something light-hearted and fun.
“Well, I’ll see ya around, Sammy.” Steelfeather gave a short wave, then lept off of the cloud and dived back down to Tucson below.
“Bye!” I shouted after him, only slightly miffed about being called ‘Sammy’. Seems I am just going to have to get used to the female connotations of my name…
That got a sigh out of me before I took my own leave of the cloud. I’m sure Mom and Ash are wondering where I went.
I yawned widely as another day dawned in my studio apartment. For once I did not wake up feeling groggy and like I had not had any sleep at all. It was a nice feeling from the norm.
With a little more of a spring in my step, I crawled out of the doggy bed that had become my new sleeping place. Oddly enough it was definitely a more comfortable option than my couch.
Dang dogs have it better than we do, I thought with an amused smile. Even moreso because of my bemused response to that very same thought that I had the other day.
Things seemed a good bit easier today than they had been all week. Showering and drying off only took me half the time as that first day, though I was still trying to figure out how to braid my mane without hands. I liked the way Shelby did it the other day, and come to think of it, I bet that she would not mind doing so again. Still, I would need to figure out how.
Breakfast was a fruit salad bowl and a glass of milk while I played some music on my iPod. ‘The Epilogue’ by Crosses was playing and somehow it seemed absolutely appropriate to the new reality.
Done with my meal, I made a more successful - and less messy - attempt at brushing my teeth. That changed as the phone rang and I made every attempt to hurry my orange flank along.
I booped the answer button just in time, which garnered a sneeze for my haste. I was in such a hurry that I didn’t bother to see who was calling.
“Ugh, hello?” I answered while wiping my snout.
“Hey Sam,” came Marcus’s familiar voice.
My smile grew. “Hey bud, what’s up?”
“Can’t quite hear you, Sam,” Marcus asked a little louder.
“Oh! Sorry!” I scrambled away to turn off ‘Chalk Outline’. “Sorry Marcus. I was listening to some music for breakfast.”
He laughed softly. “It’s no problem. Hey, I was wondering if you were still gonna go to the launch tonight?”
I blinked. That was a good question and I had to pause to really think about it. Truthfully I had completely forgotten about the game launch in the wake of everything that had happened.
“Um, I, well…” I rubbed the back of my neck as I tried to come to some decision.
“If you don’t want to, it’s fine, Sam,” Marcus answered kindly. “No pressure.” I could practically see the smile behind his words.
I smiled in kind and gave a nod that he could not see. “Sure, I’ll go. Though I think I’m going to cancel my pre-order.”
“Understandable,” Marcus replied, then perked up as another thought seemed to occur to him. “Did you want help re-stocking your fridge?”
I chuckled. “I think I’m good for now, thanks.”
“Okay, see you soon!” He hung up.
I hummed softly to myself and went to the closet, where my mother had hung up the re-worked clothes for me. I picked my outfit the day before; a sleeved white shirt that came down to my elbows, a purple vest, and some similar stretchy grey shorts. Likewise, of course, I wore some of the same underwear as before. The heat of a blush spread across my cheeks, despite the fact that it was just me. Somehow I felt like a crossdresser in my own privacy.
And at the same time I was annoyed that this was still bothering me. “Man,” I said aloud as I slipped on the hoof-wallet. “Why can’t I just get used to this already?”
Because it’s unnatural. Because it’s weird. Because it’s not me…
I groaned and rolled my eyes. “Damn it, brain…”
It was almost like I had another voice in my head; the male Sam and the female Sam...
I shook the thoughts from my head. “Nope. Not doing this again. My mood will not be ruined by abstract and semi-relevant thoughts.” I gave a light stomp of my forehoof with a forced smile.
I’m keeping this good mood, damnit. No more theatre breakdowns for me.
My old glasses caught my attention and I picked them up. These simple frames had been an invaluable necessity in my life. It felt so weird to not have them perched on my head. I sighed softly at the loss and set them back down.
“Maybe one day…” I murmured gently, then made stage-left exit from my apartment after making sure that I had everything.
Locking the door was a little troublesome and I had a feeling it always would be from now on. Our human world just was not built to be pony-friendly. Which prompted me to think about possibilities of returning back to who I was.
Predictably enough, I had none...
I garnered a stare from one of my neighbors as we passed and I averted my gaze. I didn’t really know the guy, so I figured it best to ignore the situation, lest it escalate. The theatre was still fresh in my mind, after all.
Once outside I had a proper chance to stretch my orange wings with a pleasured groan. The bright sun and the cool breeze that swayed my wings felt good. The crisp morning air felt fresh and rejuvenating. It was early enough in the morning that the heat felt good rather than stifling. Even the deserted tranquility of the empty apartment complex gave way to the gentle chirping of morning birds. I could not remember the last time I enjoyed the outdoors so much.
Maybe being a morning person isn’t such a bad thing.
I nodded to my own thought and --
“Hi Sam!”
“GYAHAH!” I jumped high enough in the air to reach the nearest tree branch and comically held onto it with all four limbs. The shrill voice below was none other than a familiar teal mare.
“Ohp! Sorry,” Chloe said with a sheepish smile.
Whelp, there goes my tranquil morning. She’s out at night and up in the morning, too? Does she ever freaking sleep?
“Jesus, Chloe!” I pouted softly, then let myself fall and land. “You just love scaring the crap out of me, don’t you.”
Chloe giggled at me with an impish grin. “Ee’yup. Especially if your reactions stay this entertaining.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re horrible…”
“That’s what they tell me,” she rebutted happily.
I chuckled softly. Even though I should be mad at her for scaring me, I simply couldn’t find it in me to be angry with Chloe. And for once it didn’t feel like a hormone thing! Yay?
Goddamnit, brain…
“So what are you up to, today?” she said as she walked with me.
I hummed. “Well, Marcus and I are going to a midnight launch.”
“Midnight launch?”
“It’s for a video game.” I shrugged. “Sometimes if a game is popular enough, it’ll have special events at retailers. People wait outside the doors until midnight to get the game right as it releases.”
Chloe smiled and gave a happy bounce. “Oh cool! That sounds interesting.” Though her tone dropped a little bit. “But why wait at the store so early?”
I chuckled. “It’s more of a social thing. Players with the same interests gather to chat and socialize about their favorite games.”
Though, now as I thought about it, how would that go for me? As a bonus, we would be going to the same mall as before. It was highly unlikely, but I thought about whether I would see the same jerks or not. I mentally checked to make sure that I had the phone number the mall cop gave me.
A poke to my shoulder told me I had zoned out again.
“Oh, sorry, what did you say?” I asked with a sheepish smile. I really needed to watch the zoning out thing.
“I asked if I could come, silly.”
I blinked, surprised by her request. “Really?”
“Really!” she happily replied. I was about to ask about her brother. “I’d like to go, I’m bored without him. Kevin is at our mother’s.”
I winced. “And…” I was not sure how to approach this. “How are they taking it?”
Chloe sighed deeply. “Better than I had hoped, but it’s hard on all of us.” Despite her answer, Chloe gave a happy smile.
I was befuddled. “Then, how can you smile like that?”
She chuckled and looked me in the eye. “There’s no reason why not, you know?”
I shook my head. I did not know.
“Things could always be worse, Sam,” she replied in kind, a hoof on my shoulder. “They can always be worse.”
