Chapter 2 V2 - You Lean On Me...

I forced myself to calm and slow down, both to give my friends a chance to catch up and to make sure I didn't push my luck again.

I absently scratched at my chest as I waited, leaning towards the wall of the corridor of the small house that served as HQ for Laughing Thunder Studios.

”Hey, Morgan...” Speak of the devil I guess, here comes the boss. ”...How'd it go?”

I waved back at the short man walking towards me. Alexander Smith was as pleasant a friend as I never wanted to be on opposite sides on him in a business deal. As soon as money was on the line, it was as if he lost any and all limits on how far he would go…

Now granted, I had never even heard rumors of him doing anything illegal... But more from a practical and reputation praxis of practicality, rather than any moral hindrance…

I felt a bit amused as I looked over the man that was wearing a crisp white shirt and jeans. His smile shining nearly as badly as his shaved head.

This and that he barely reached me to my shoulders, made him look completely harmless. Something I had no doubt he took just as complete advantage of.

“Not too shabby,...” I began with a nod. “...but we pattered of a bit towards the end. This episode is going to need a bit more work and editing.”

“Oh?”

I fidgeted a bit, before continuing. “...Remember Trixie?”

Alexander blinked. “Oh.”

It was... a bit ironic, given my current fears... but Trixie was not only how I met Alexander, but also the reason he hired me when he and his wife founded this little venture. Think two for one deal, and you're not far off.

I nodded thoughtfully. “...It's just... Recent events... The subject came up...” I pattered off. Not sure how to phrase it.

“...You're worried that little card shark is more than a personal indulgence?”

I gave him a nod, my mouth dry.

And Trixie was intently silent again. Waiting.

Alexander started me out of my thoughts, by placing a friendly hand on my shoulder. He looked me in the eye. “...You've talked with Edith about this? I don't think she'd mind sharing her perspective. Especially considering how you guys helped her when it started.”

I nodded again, as he let his hand drop to his side again. “I thought I should ask her if I can ask her, when my friends and I drop off the memory-cards...”

He raised an eyebrow at me. Clearly puzzled at my phrasing.

“...And if she says yes, to have that discussion at the poker table. Just in case I'm the only one that's worried and dares ask.”

His face lit up in understanding. “...Good idea.”

He looked around, his face thoughtful, but a bit hesitant.

I hazarded a guess. “...You're worried as well?”

He twitched, as if caught with his hand in the cookie jar, before giving me a sheepish grin.

“...How Gwen and the twins would react?” I asked in a soft voice.

He paled a bit, before giving me a sharp nod.

...Now, I am not a man that tends to indulge in the feeling of jealousy... But the thing Gwen and Alexander have? Gives me a pang of it, I'm not too proud to admit.

The two apparently met at a party, age fifteen... and love at first sight. I didn't know much more details than that, but they had apparently been standing at the altar, more or less the minute both of them had turned eighteen.

A year later, Gwen had twins.

And seven years later... Still together, still madly in love and they even had this nice little business going.

The mere thought that something as minor as species change would come between the two... was so ludicrous to me that I couldn't help but snort and smile at the suggestion. “Come on, as if that would do anything but make the riding crops you think we don't know about, a bit more ironic...”

Seeing your boss blush red like a fire truck? Oh boy, now there's a sight and a half!

“Pervert sense, tingling...” I heard Abraham's voice behind me, soon joined by Tim snickering.

As Alexander started leaning closer and closer to beet red, I decided to show a bit of mercy by taking the thing seriously. “...Come now. I don't know all the details, but Edith took a couple of days, right?”

My mind drifted back, as Alexander nodded in thought. Nearly a week ago... May eight, I believe? Anyway…

A week ago. Company dining room. Lunch.

“...and that is why I'm not allowed to cook black-pudding, anymore.”

Me and Tim looked at each other for a bit, before just shaking our head at Abraham.

Seriously, who the fuck is stupid enough to put marzipan in that dish?

“Hey!” Abraham shouted. Deep red from embarrassment. “I was five. It sounded delicious. Give me a break.”

“...Well, sure.. To your mutated taste-buds, ma-” Tim began.

But movement caught my eye.

I hushed my companions. They looked puzzled at me, but I just raised a shaking finger, pointing at what I was seeing.

Robert, the companies sysadmin. A man of average height... and twice as wide. Nice dude, even if I've had little except brief and professional contact with him.

And Robert was not only growing hair, but turning blond as we watched. Not only that, but he a, didn't seem to notice and b, it was bloody cascading down his back as well. More and more strands snaking their way down all the way towards his posterior, even as we watched.

Robert finally noticed that the rough dozen of others in the room was staring at him, and asked like nothing was wrong: “...What? Do I have something on my back?”

I scraped my mouth of the floor. The first that managed to do so. “...Yes, go look in a mirror.”

The large man turned to me... Making me notice something else that was off about him.

“...Robert, why are your eyes orange?”

He blinked them in confusion. Was it just me, or where they just a bit too large as well? “Orange? What are you talking about? I have green eyes.”

I just... shook my head at the man. The serious expression on my face must have done it, because he dashed out of the room.

...A bit too quickly, for his bulk, I noticed. The speed he held would have made most sprinters proud.

I rose, my food forgotten. “...Guys... Remember the rumors on Equestria daily?”

Now, thanks to the show having been canceled after... the ratings bomb of a last episode, the site was hardly daily anymore... But it was still a pillar in the slowly dying Brony community...

A pillar that had had some very weird scribbles on it, for a couple of days now.

Most in the room just looked confused at my words, but Tim and Abraham just nodded.

And apparently Alexander, at least, know what we were talking about because the normally so stoic man paled a bit.

“Could just be a tasteless prank, boss. “ I reassured the man. “Why don't you deal with these confused stares, while me and the rest of the Three Caballeros go check on Robert?”

Abraham groaned as Alexander gave me a nod, he did not like that nickname for our little group...

“Come on, Donald. Time's a wastin!”

Or perhaps it was the role he'd been dealt? Oh, well…

He bristled a bit, but he got up and followed my lead. “...Where blue and white freaking once...” He muttered under his breath.

I grinned. It started as a bad joke when we had our first try at a show together. Without thinking about it or planning, he had come wearing a white shirt with blue jeans…

I had been wearing red, with a few yellow trimmings and Tim was his usual color-blind self and had green pants, a yellow jacket and a black suit tie.

I made a bad joke that we looked dressed like we were trying a bad cosplay of my favorite Disney movie series. Two confused dudes, a YouTube link to the song, a few groans from Donald and the rest, was history. The fans loved it. We even licensed a instrumental of the song as our theme.

“Come on, Donald. Your just jealous I got to be the handsome rogue Panchito Romero Miguel Junipero Francisco Quintero González III!” I stated, with a dramatic flourish of my arms.

‘José Carioca’ cleared his throat. “As nifty as it is that you managed to memorize that damn name... now's not the time, dude.”

I made a grimace, and let my arms drop. “Right, right...”

Alexander nodded again, before clearing his throat. “Right people! Shows over!”

There was a bit of mutterings and interested looks, but nobody stopped us as we jogged to the bath-rooms.

Judging from how Robert was standing stock-still in the doorway to one of them, staring into the mirror over the sink with wide eyes and hand still on the handle? Yeah, clearly this had been news to him.

I barely got out the hey in “Hey, Robert...” before he unfroze and darted inside. Looking positively terrified.

I looked at my companions... But both of them were just making sweeping motions towards the door and me.

Sometimes it sucks being a people person.

I sighed, before walking up to the door and knocked. “Robert? You alright?”

A weak laugh, that went on a bit too long was my reply. Oh boy…

I sat down on the side of the door. This seemed like it could take awhile.

“It's Morgan. Me and the other Caballeros are here... You want to talk about this?”

The two made noises in agreement, to show that they really were there, before following my example off settling down and letting me talk with the sys-admin.

“...Nothing's wrong. Go away.”

I sighed. There are lies, there are blatant lies, there are statistics and then there was that. “Robert, the whole company saw you. Your growing ass-long, platinum blond hair and your eyes have changed color. Please, let us help.”

“...How?”

Now that, was the million dollar question... But even if the ‘Morgan-cave’ leaves much in genetic testing and manipulation tech to desire, there were still more baser things within my and my friends power to help.

“Just letting you know you have ears you can trust. I know we aren't exactly bosom-buddies, but I'm not letting somebody go through something like that alone, if I can help it...”

Tim and Abraham murmured vaguely positive sounds, echoing my sentiment.

“...Oh.” A disappointed voice came through the door. From the sound of it, he had had a small, if irrational hope, that we somehow had a silver bullet so to speak.

A long period of silence followed, before he spoke again. “...You know anything about this stuff?”

...He had to ask. That meant non-brony. Or a ex one, no longer keeping up with the community. I thought how to best tell a grown man, that there was wild rumors flying about Kafkaesque metamorphoses... but into pastel ponies from an old animated TV show instead of into vermin.

And that he for-fills some of the rumored symptoms.

I winced silently.

...Yeah, this will be a barrel of laughs.

I flipped open my smart-phone, doing a quick search on Equestria Daily.

“...Do you have your phone on you?” I said.

“...Why?”

.”...There’s... wild rumors circulating. About... a new condition. I thought I should show you a link. Might make it easier to swallow...”

“...What kind?” He sounded both worried and incredulous.

I let out a sigh. But he just sounded so lost as well. “...I'm not sure you'll believe me. But... changes, like that? It fits the rumors...”

I heard him start sobbing softly.

I decided to try another angle of attack. “...Slightest chance it would help, if I told you it looks good on you?”

He chuckled weakly, but at least the sobbing stopped. “...Sorry, I'm taken and your not my type.”

My ears began to burn as my friends snickered. “Just a friendly compliment...”

Another long silence followed. When next he spoke, some of the life had returned to his voice. Small favors. “Just tell me.”

Ugh, if he knew what he was asking. “...I'm warning you, its weird.”

That actually got a weak chuckle from the man. “I've spontaneously turned blond. I think I can take it...”

Well, he did ask for it... “...Any chance you just got a tattoo from nowhere a day or two ago? That's supposedly one of the first signs.”

And one of the few things people seemed to be in agreement on at the moment. Thanks to rumors, people that thought it was only a role-playing trend and outright lies and misinformation from bastards.

Strange, I could actually hear the shocked silence from within the bathroom. It was as if a tiny part of the room, started sucking all sound towards it. “...Yes.”

I was already surfing the MPL:FIM wiki, looking for that eye and hair color combo. I just knew I had seen it, but where? “Care to describe it to me? You saying it first, might make it easier to believe that I'm not bluffing about this.”

“...That bad?”

“X-files or The Twilight-zone, mixed with just a dash of Peevee's Playhouse or Sesame street… So yes, that bad.”

He started laughing, but the sound died quickly when we didn’t join in. “Oh, god... You're not joking.”

“Wish I where.”

“...Is this a prank?” My friends and I winced at the question. “If so, please stop, it isn't funny...”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it, if it is.”

“...You sure?”

I failed to hold in a sigh of annoyance. “Robert, yesterday you were a clean-shaved redhead. A hairgrowt compound capable of also effecting hair and eye color like that might be worth billions. If I had a chemical capable of doing that I most certainly wouldn't be using it on pranks.”

I ding from my phone told me I had a chat invitation. “...A apple-pie.”

Oh god. Immediately on hearing that it finally clicked...

I shared a disturbed look with Tim and Abraham, telling me instantly that they as well had come to the same conclusion.

‘Granny’ Edith Smith. Closest bloody thing the biggest family of movers and shakers in Equestria had to a matron.

And old enough to have seen Ponyville founded.

This could be bad.

But I steeled myself, and once I knew who I was looking for... I had a link within moments, sent it and only a few more later I heard a ding from behind the door.

“...Anything that looks familiar?”

The silence was horrible. One of those that seemed to go on for ever. Things just getting more tense, as it did.

The only sound, his finger scrolling.

It was several minutes after even that sound stopped, before he said anything.
“...This is crazy.” He sounded... flat. Not a shred of emotion.

I grunted in affirmation. That was certainly a fair summation. “...Yeah, want a link to a news-site that's been cowering this a little?”

“...Please.”

I complied. Passing time by twiddling my thumbs while he read.

“...I've never heard of this stuff before.”

I hummed in acknowledgment.

“...So why the fuck does so much of it give me Déjà vu?!”

I winced at the volume so close to my ears. At least he seemed to have regained his emotions, for good or ill…

“I don't know...” I stated honestly. “You saw the state of ED, right? The whole thing is in chaos. Every theory crazier than the last.”

“...You a fan?”

I nodded absentmindedly, before realizing that he couldn't actually see me. “Yeah. All three of us.”

“What's your crazy theory?”

“...Before seeing it with my own eyes? I honestly thought it was just a stupid bit of viral marketing for a reboot, or something. Or crazy fans having lost it. Something like that.”

“...What do I do?”

I made damn sure my voice was as soft as possible, before continuing. “If I were you? Get in contact with your friends and family. Show them pictures of the... process, as proof. Maybe find somebody of them that lives a bit from the city, just in case.”

“...Oh god...” He said, before starting to sob again.

“...Look, open the bloody door. You clearly need a shoulder and a hug.”

The sobbing stopped instantly... but I didn't hear a sound of him approaching the door.

I think I can see the problem... “If it's a pathogen, the whole building is probably already infected and I can imagine worse fates than getting turned into a small, cute horse with magic. Just come out.”

He was silent for another extended pause, but I did note some hope in his voice when it stopped. “...Magic?”

I mentally cursed for letting my mouth run and giving him what might almost certainly be a false hope. “..Well, on the show, at least. I haven't exactly held a long series of interviews with any afflicted, or anything.”

“...Tell me.”

Oh boy, I thought, as I tensed with a grimace. I couldn't have had this conversation with a future ruler of the sky and storms or a wielder of the forces of wonder and ruin, oh no, that would have been far, far too easy…

I fought back an urge to grit my teeth.

Fuck you too, multiverse.

“Er, earth-ponies have prehensile hair...” I began hesitatingly.

“What.”

I hushed my snickering friends with a withering glare, before continuing. Trying my best to make my voice sound like a bastion of certainty and order. The poor dude needed it. “I'm starting with the least impressive thing and working my way up, alright?”

“...OK...” He said, voice barely a whisper.

“Hey, it means that... even if this goes all the way, you'll still have some means of fine manipulation. That's good news, right?”

“...Sure.”

“...It was never given a good explanation on the show, but they hinted quite severely about deep connection with nature... Green thumbs, an easier time understanding animals, the whole rock-farming thing...”

“...Rock farming?”

“Think... magic replicators. But instead of a alcove in a wall and energy, it uses useless rocks, a dusty field, a ‘seedling’ of the material you want and somehow the magic of a earth-pony allows the stuff to spread and grow...”

“...Like tiberium?”

“Minus it being unstoppable, deadly and not effecting living things, sure...”

“...Does it work on gold?”

I just had to laugh at that. The others, even Robert himself, joined in.

...Strangely no Trixie I noted absently. She'd just been dead quiet since the rumors began...
I suppressed the shiver that snaked down my spine. One pony ‘problem’ at a time.

Besides... “You still online and have the wiki loaded?”

“...Sure.”

“Search for bit. B-I-T.”

He hesitated for a moment, before I heard the blip-bloop of virtual buttons once more.
A low whistle a few moments later told me he had found the right page.

“Just a friendly warning. The show hinted repeatedly that the process makes watching paint dry seem like the very exemplar of excitement and it requires that you keep moving the rocks around, for some reason...”

“Thanks...” He hesitated for a moment. “...But why do this for me?”

I felt a bit hurt by the question, to be honest... “What? A cynic isn't allowed to indulge in a bit of altruism?”

“You know what I mean. This... thisness, could be spreading for all I know... Why... stop and help a dude you're only a work acquaintance with?”

I started thinking it over...

“...You still there?”

He actually sounded a bit scared... “Just thinking my answer over.” I instantly got a relieved sigh from the man.

The real answer was that I had long ago given up on my body doing anything but slowly collapsing inward... But for some reason and I can't imagine why, people tend to get depressed when I say stuff like that... so I try not to.

Turning into a pastel pony? Well, I had a hard time imagining my health getting worse from the ordeal.

Bloody hell. On some of the really bad days? I was sometimes genuinely surprised how often I managed to drag myself out of the bed.

...Even if I fully expected my luck on that front, to dry up sooner or later.

...But then again, sometimes it is simply a matter of presentation.

“...You know that I'm a transhumanist?”

Robert and my friends groaned. I may have been a wee bit to enthusiastic during LPs featuring the subject.... and Robert also served as our editor.

“...Fine, fine. I know I can be a bit too into it...” I grumbled.

“Are you saying... you think this is a good thing?” He sounded confused... and a little angry.

“...You familiar with the concept of a mixed blessing?” I quickly clarified.

“...Sure.”

“Think of it like this... What is the core of my philosophy?”

“...Finding ways to improve yourself?”

“Exactly... And I wasn't done listing the thing earth-ponies are capable off...”

“...They're called what?”

“I know, I know... I guess it is in some ways better than... I don't know, the blargians, the xonianz or something... But they really should have thought of a better name...”

Now, I'm no wizard... or even more than a amateur when it comes to occultism whatsoever, really... But names do have power, just not in the ‘make your heart explode’ way…

To my knowledge. Trixie has refused to comment.

But think about it. If offered two meals, which would you take? Mountain oysters… or cocked sheep testicles? Even small things, like that. Whoever picked the name earth-ponies, a name that begins with a synonym for dirt and common, really dropped the damn ball.

For fictional characters.... Unfortunate, but not that important... But now that the whole pony business seemed to be real? I mean, come on. And compared to unicorns and pegasi, with all those names implied in tales and legends? It was just begging to be the cause of many major minority complexes.

Another reason to boost the poor bastards self-esteem... If not, a reason I intended to tell him either. Drawing his attention to it would be counterproductive.

“Anyway,...” I continued. “...only one more, but its a doozy.”

I paused for dramatic effect, noting with glee that I even heard him hold his breath.
“Supernatural toughness.”

“...Really?” For more or less the first time during the discussion he actually sounded hopeful.

I did my best to press the advantage.

“Oh yes. Strength, stamina, constitution and dexterity. The whole package, multiplied by pony.”

“...How strong?”

I chuckled a bit internally. Total munchkin, as usual. Perhaps we should switch games from poker at the game-nights a bit more often…

And I knew of the perfect example.

“Do a search for Hearts warming's eve.”

“...What?”

“In-show solstice festival, based on an old legend. The important part? A three way historical brawl between the pegasi, that had complete air-superiority and weather-control, the unicorns with wizards and magic... and the earth-ponies held their own against both. Think about those implications.”

Tim decided to speak up. “Hell, the whole near complete control of food production? The earth-ponies would have probably won if it wasn't for the windigos. Scorched earth tactics, anyone?”

I blinked, and Robert gave off a small, but impressed murmur. I must admit, I hadn't even thought about that angle.

The clicking of the lock, took us by surprise. I quickly scooted over to Tim and Abraham, both to get clear of the door and give Robert some space.

Robert stood in the doorway, looking a bit sheepish. He had cleaned up, but it was still clear from the redness around his eyes that he'd lost if for a little bit…

And there wasn't a single red strand on his head left.

“...Damn,” I said, feeling suave and well-spoken like a boss... “...scientific curiosity, do the curtains match the drapes?”

Or not. Being the people person of a group is somewhat relative…

Robert just stared at me, before facepalming.

I put a hand to my face and coughed embarrassed, as I heard the soft ‘pats’ as my two friends followed Robert's example. “...Sorry dude, it just slipped.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “...What if they do?” He said, lifting his foot and shaking his pants-leg.

I shivered as a horrible mental vision came to me, of the man in front of me with prehensile pubic braids reaching his ankles.

…Brain-bleach! My kingdom for brain-bleach!

Trixie made a retching sound at the back of my mind. “Trixie concurs.” She projected towards me.

A slow, terrible smile spread over Robert's face. “Did you know I know how to juggle?”

My horrified expression – And of my friends that looked just as shocked. - must have been just what Robert was hoping for, because he just started to laugh himself silly. Tim and Abraham soon started themselves. Even Trixie joined in.

I didn't, but I did smile. Good that he seems to be on the right track…

To shorten the rest, all three of us gave him our phone-numbers, he went home for ‘health reasons...’

And guess what the crazy bastard did five days later? She went back to work.

No fanfare. No phone-call to any of us. Just walking in wearing a modified bathrobe and back to work.

...And the same day, I am sad to say, five other people sent in their letters of recognition. Most for ‘health’ or ‘family’ reasons…

Bastards. Like such a gesture would actually accomplish anything by then, other then hurt somebody that is already having a hard time.

I don't think a single person in the building fell for it. Especially not with the rumor mill being what it is... Hell, even most of our viewers have put one and one together, despite Robert/Edith being a presence mostly behind the cameras.

Still, glad that she trust us enough to risk something like that.

To be honest, I'm not sure I would have had the balls. Metaphorically speaking…

“You alright, Morgan? You looking a bit distracted...”

I blinked at my boss that was watching me with a worried look. Oops. “Sorry, boss. Just got a bit distracted. Last couple of weeks have been weird and... Well, you know. Made my mind wander.”

Abraham snorted. “You and your trains of thought...”

I snorted right back. “Said the guy that spends day after day in his basement, tinkering...”

“Hey! As soon as I get or figure out a power-source that isn't complete shit...”

“You've been tinkering with that homemade exoskeleton for almost a decade now. Why don't you just swallow your pride and buy one of the civilian models?”

Alexander nodded. “We have one of the old HAL 5's at home. Not the best or latest, but really practical when you need to do something straining...”

Abraham made a grimace of disgust. “They're for lifting grandma's in and out of bed! Moving furniture! Boring stuff like that! Do you have any idea how bulky, slow and noisy most of them are?”

“...Why not a second hand military one, then?” Tim hesitatingly offered.

“Come on,” I plainly stated. “jokes aside, obviously would-be Mr. Tony Stark here has greater dreams then being able to clean under his fridge easier. Let the man dream.”

Abraham beamed a smile at me.

“...As long as he doesn't try a home-brewed direct man/machine interface, or adding death-rays to it, of course...” I continued, smirking.

Abraham gave me a glare... but it was quickly replaced with a frown. “...Why would you have a problem with that first one?”

I pointed at him. “Hey, you can do whatever you want with or too your body...” He raised an eyebrow at me, clearly expecting a but. “I just don't want to lose one of my best friends to something as stupid as a botched amateur surgery.”

Abraham gave me a thoughtful nod, accepting my answer.

I did notice however, that a smile had flickered over Tim's face at the ‘one of’ part. I pretended not to notice. He didn't need to know that I knew about his spells of doubt, just because me and Abraham went back as far as we do.

...Honestly, it was cute at the start, but I’ve know him for almost a decade now. He really shouldn't be feeling like that.

I scratched my chin thoughtfully as Alexander and Abraham started talking shop. Huh, no idea the boss was a fan of the stuff, interesting…

Anyway, perhaps I should talk with Abraham about doing something each for or with Tim? It was awhile ago he and I did something on our lonesome... Granted, the same for me and Abraham, but it was clearly getting to Tim more. Perhaps…

A playful punch on the arm from the man in question, broke my concentration. “Come on. Didn't we have a horse to see about a girl?”

Me and the rest groaned. “Dude, that joke was bad... and a bit specist... I think.”

Abraham paled a bit and started swinging his arms back and forth in-front of himself defensively. “What? No-no-no-no-no! I didn-”

I held my own hands up in a calming gesture. “Relax. We know it was just a joke...”

Alexander nodded... but he looked quite serious. “...But you shouldn't joke about that. She is taking it well from what I can tell. But, well... She.”

Abraham rubbed the back of his head, clearly embarrassed. “...Yeah. Just... trying to lighten the mood, you know?”

Alexander nodded at him. “Admirable, just use another subject for jokes next time.”

Abraham gave us a sheepish grin, still scratching his head.

I pulled out my cell... and cursed at the time I saw. “Guys, we need to get moving. It's almost closing time.”

“You two coming to tonight’s game? Poker this time, I believe.” The boss asked my companions, before giving my a world weary look. “I don't think I even have to ask you...”

I stuck my tongue out at him. God, I just love working at a place with that kind of camaraderie. “Come on, Mr. You and the others love the challenge, and don't you pretend otherwise.”

My tiny boss shook his head. “How in all the hells have you not been banned from any casinos yet?”

“Simply, you very carefully lose every once in awhile.” I stated matter of factually. “Preferably big. Do it big enough and visit them seldom enough, and they don't even suspect a thing. No matter your profit margin.”

All three gave me a blank look. “...Dear lord, you didn't even hesitate.” Alexander said, slightly horrified.

I shrugged. “The house almost always wins. Why should I show the cynical twits any mercy? Besides, I haven't exactly made a career of it...”

They still looked incredulous at me.

“Look, the one way of adding a bit of tactics and strategy into the mix. Making the damn games interesting... and they flip their shit if they find out. Let them be boring if they want. I will not.”

A smile tugged at my lips, as a proud laugh form Trixie flooded my mind's ear. “That's my boy!”

Abraham recovered first from my flexible morals. Honestly, he really shouldn't be surprised by now... “...Anyway, shall we?”

I nodded, before walking off. Trying to figure out just what I wanted to ask Edith and how to phrase it...

As my tall, lanky friend walked off from me, the boss and Tim... I just had to shake my head. That such a nice dude could be so damn underhanded... He didn't show that side often and it always managed to blindside me.

He stopped and turned his raven crowned head. “You coming?”

A bit over two meters, thin enough to hide behind a lamp-post, one of those so sure of themselves they really stride everywhere....

And as always, those blazing eyes of his. Near glowing with will and intelligence.
No wonder he got all the attention from the dames…

“Just a moment.” I said. “You go ahead.”

He nodded once, then turned his head and stalked off. Barely making a sound, despite the stone-floor.

(...I felt a pang of jealousy at that. I wouldn't want his health for it, but I've always been fascinated with how he manages such precise and refined movement, even for such small things like that. Makes me feel like a bull elephant in a china-shop, sometimes...)

My eyes darted over his hands. His sunken cheeks. How when you looked closer, how his clothes hung on him.

Yeah, the dames loved him, all right...

...Until they got close enough to see that his thinness wasn't a sign of good health.

I suppressed a shiver. And that was while he was awake... I'd seen him sleep a couple of times, during trips and similar…

As soon as you didn't see that fire in his apple-green eyes…

My best friend... and the closest damn thing I'd seen to a real-life walking corpse.

I bit down a frustrated sigh. Damn it, I don't want to think like that. And yet, I can't stop myself from it.

“...So, Abraham, Tim,...” Alexander, our patron and boss, asked hesitatingly. “...What's your opinions?”

“He really shouldn't tempt fate like that,...” I said. “...the casinos aren't things you should trifle with.”

“...Well, that too,” The short man said. “but I was thinking more about his worries about... Well, Trixie.”

I grunted and nodded. Tim following my example.

I fidgeted a little, while I thought my answer over. In front of a camera was OK, but I had never been a extrovert and face to face conversations where something I preferred to stay in the background for.

“...She's been around for as long as I can remember.” I started hesitatingly. “She's disturbingly independent for a voice in my friends head, but I have a hard time imagining her being a part of the stuff going on right now...”

Alexander nodded, but Tim's face scrunched up in concentration.

“What?” I asked.

“...Didn't you two meet in kindergarten?”

What did that have anything to do with it? “Yeah, so?”

He didn't answer directly, but instead fished for his cell and after quickly doing something with it, handed it to me. “Bloody knew it. See something weird?”

I looked at it. He had gone in on the Wikipedia page for My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic... Odd choice. For most stuff, the fan wiki's is more detailed. Why point me at this one?

I raised an eyebrow at him, but he only made a ‘go on’ gesture... Hmm…

I decided to cut to the chase. “Look, I'm fairly certain I can figure it out eventually... but we are in a bit of a hurry. Any hints?”

“Look at the air-dates.”

I re-raised my eyebrow, but did as he instructed... What the?

“...First aired tenth October 2010? But... can that really be right?”

Alexander sucked in a breath. Tim just nodded, looking thoughtful.

My (somewhat neglected, sure, but still there) researcher’s instincts kicked in. There had to be a rational explanation for this... even if, to be fair, the world had turned into a weird place lately.

“...Might just be a coincidence...” I started. Even in my ears, it was clear it was more for playing devils advocate, then something I believed in. “A simpler explanation is that he made a imaginary friend that happened to be a blue unicorn... And when the show came and he became a fan of it, he latched on and re-imagined her a bit.”

“...Is Bellatrix or Trixie, a common name in Sweden?” Tim countered after a short contemplation.

I tried to remember if I had ever heard him call her anything else... But it was too long-ago. My memories of that time was fuzzy…

Except when we first met. A tall, gangly boy walking up to me with a stuffed unicorn on his shoulder…

Blue, with white hair and purple button eyes.

Even the fucking cape and hat.

And she asked me what I was reading, before he introduced them both to me... and explaining the concept of speaking in third person. That is the kind of thing that sticks with you.

“.... “You seem far more intelligent than the rest of this rabble of foolish foals. Trixie is curious what you're reading. Would you mind telling Trixie?””

I shrugged, as the jaws of the two dropped. “That was how she introduced herself to me.. Translated from Swedish, but still. Morgan's face was beet-red, as he apologized for her...”

Tim found himself first. “...Well, that is certainly... in character.”

I scratched the back of my head. “...Yeah. Somewhat beyond what I would call a reasonable set of coincidences...”

Alexander looked a bit dumbstruck. “...And you became best friends after that?”

I chuckled softly. “What can I say? They were weird and interesting. That goes along way when you're that age...” I added a shrug. “And they were actually willing to talk about more than cooties, crayons and eating glue. Like books and stuff.”

The two shook their heads. “You two are weird...” Both said, in near perfect unison.

I shook my head. If reading at age six is wrong... Then fuck normality. I let out a sigh and focused on the important bit, though. “...Should we do anything?”

Tim tilted his head. “...So, hypothetically... If Trixie is more then a voice in our friends head... What is happening right now, when he is holding her in?”

Alexander froze, but I just shook my head. “They've done this before. When Morgan has gotten grief over her presence. She's usually back within a week, grumpy but OK.”

Tim still looked troubled. “...It's been... What? Six months?”

I grunted. “...I've gotten the impression Miss Ah!-Oh-No,-A-Horse!-Ahhhh! Gave him some-manner of ultimatum... They had a big fight, roughly when the doll went into the closet this time...”

The duo winces.

“Come on, you've seen how his eyes cross. And you heard what he said about ‘A voice from nowhere would be weird.’ He's obviously still talking to her, just not...” I stumbled, looking for the right words.

“Letting her out?” Tim said softly, before drawing a breath and continuing. “...I have a very hard time imagining Trixie standing down from being on a scene willingly...”

Now it was my turn to wince. Yeah, same for me. Still... my oldest... pair of friends, if this turned out to be what all signs pointed at…

They both deserved the benefit of the doubt.

“...How about this? He intends to have a chat with Edith later, right?” I offered.

They both nodded at me.

“Let's see where it goes. For now.”

Tim tilted his head again, doing his weird little habit of not looking at the person he was talking to, but rather everything and everybody else. “I don't remember Edith ever even hinting at hearing or talking with... Well, Edith.” He finished awkwardly, ending with a shrug.

Alexander bit his lip, deep in thought. “...Nobody here actually think she's just a... I don't know, a split personality, or something... Do they?”

I shrugged. “The way Hollywood portrays it, you mean?” I hesitated. “...Dissociative personality disorder is rare... But...”

Tim nodded. “Rare and non-existent are different things, after all...”

I shook my head. The idea sounded... wrong to me, somehow. I tilted my head. Weird. I usually don't have much in the way of intuition, but this felt damn close to certainty…

Tim was looking funny at me. It made my thought train derail. “What?”

“...You know something weird I've noticed about the blogs, the news and similar?”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“...No duplicates. None.”

I blinked. “...Go on.”

Alexander blinked, before crossing his arms and whistling low. “...Damn, that has some... implications.”

Tim nodded. “Yeah... There should be, especially of the popular ones.”

I just had to snort at the mental image of Earth near drowning in freshly converted ‘lookalikes’ of the Mane Six, the Princesses, Lyra…

Then I blinked.

And Trixie.

Now, the ensemble dark-horse among a whole bloody slew of them?

If this was a contagion, a nanovirus or... something rational, something even unintentionally let loose, there should be legions of Trixies.

(I fought down a shudder at that thought. I liked the mare, and I still thought one was more than enough...)

And there wasn't one. None I could think off that I had seen or even heard of, at least.

...Except the one I had personally known since I was six.

My mind near buckled at the implications... My eyes widened, and my mouth felt dry. “...Just what
are you saying?”

Tim hesitated. “...I'm not sure to be honest... But it is a damn peculiar pattern.”

I shook my head, trying to clear it. It felt like it was filled with cobwebs. “...To little date. Where building this hypothesis on a single verifiable data-point, one more that might be related and a whole slew of rumors and half-truths. We need to wait and see.”

Tim nodded, as he accepted his phone back. “Yeah... But we need to talk with them.”

I nodded in turn to my un-well dressed friend, as I started walking. “Sure. But after the game. Let's see what questions he asks Edith first.”

They nodded at me and we started walking.

The three of us made good time to the ‘computer’ room, although given the nature of the company it was more a gadget room. Piles of cable, old consoles and computers needing repair, controllers that would probably never work again... stuff like that. A small smile tugged at my lips.

My kind of place.

Morgan was standing in the doorway, leaning on the frame. He turned slightly and hushed us as we came closer. I raised an eyebrow at the man.

I twitched his head towards the room and whispered: “She's working, let her concentrate. This is just fascinating.”

My other eyebrow joined its brethren in a frown. Computer repair? Fascinating? What's so fascinating about that? I'd taken apart my first computer at age five!

...Granted, I put together my first computer when I was eight, but details.

...Same one, even. Mom had... issues, with my little pet project. She thought I should finish what I started.

...Damn thing was utterly useless when I finally got it together again. Totally outdated.

I grunted, both to my friend and at the memory of a lesson well learned, as I stuck my head through the doorway…

And had to stop myself from whistling.

Now, the room hadn't been... Pony adapted? Sure, let's go with that. Pony adapted yet, and Edith had dragged a couple of old sofa-cushions from somewhere, as replacement for the too tall and small chairs and tables. She sat on one of them, leaning over a computer tower resting on the floor. She was currently giving it a dusting, face scrunched up in such concentration that she hadn't even noticed us.

The nifty part? Our resident tech-expert was playing Doctor Octopus... Bayonetta style! She must have figured out the hair trick.

Her braid was undone and she had formed these tiny hair-tentacles that were rummaging around inside the dusty chassis. The majority of the hair was still hanging off her back, (And was, to my amusement, still holding the ribbon. And I do mean holding it. It almost looked like a knot, but knots don’t twitch every-once in awhile.) but the six ‘limbs’ she had formed seemed quite suited for the task at ‘hoof.’

They were... a centimeter or two, no thicker, but seemed to have a surprising amount of strength in them. As I watched, she even used a can of air without sending the strand more than one-two centimeters backwards.

...Wonder just what kind of strength earth-pony hair has? Both in the breaking point and lift capacity sense? I hummed softly and scratched my shin. That might be an interesting side-project, actually... If I could get her cooperation, that is. Might just be worth the shot...

She seemed to be almost finished, as she slid the side onto the tower... and tightened all the screws simultaneously. Nice.

...And then I had to bite back another whistle as I got my demonstration. Her hair just flowed forward and near enveloped the desktop, lifting it with no more trouble then when she had used her hands for the same task…

The angle on her neck looked more than a bit uncomfortable, though. I guess that is one downside to the technique. She sat the computer down next to a outlet, plugged it in... and gave a satisfied grunt, as the boot-up test proved successful.

I was just about to give a clap, when her hair split into three strands... and started braiding itself. It only took a few seconds, and at the end she even tied the ribbon only using the small tuft at the end.

She didn't even have a speck of dust on or in it.

The four of us started clapping... and then laugh, as Edith nearly jumped out of her skin.

She glared at us a little, but it was quickly replaced with a smile. “So, liked what you saw, huh?” Then she wiggled her eyebrows.

I started blushing. Now, I'm no... pony-sexual, or whatever stupid name that fetish will get once the mainstream latches on to it…

But a twenty-five year old Edith? Oh my, almost made me wish I was.

Morgan had confined in my that he had been worried, that we needed to keep a lookout for gray hairs and similar... so that the poor girl/guy would get some warning, at least…

Turns out, that wasn't needed. Whatever this is, seems to have no effect on age, at least.

And thank all things good and evil for that. Waking up a pony is bad enough... But as a senior, as well? Or the opposite, for that matter?

Cutie mark crusaders body snatchers! Jay!

...Now, that mental image? Cooled my confused loins down quick.

I took the opportunity to take a peek on how the others had reacted. Just for curiosities sake.
Tim... total virgin. Glassy eyes and a blush so deep it was almost a bruise.

Alexander was blushing a little, but had crossed his arms and put his hands so that you couldn't fail to notice his wedding ring. Heh.

Morgan though, nothing but a smirk. Totally shameless as usual.

In fact, he had even held up the slow clap he was doing... Even if I got the impression that the reason for it had shifted. Perhaps it was Trixie’s influence, but he had always appreciate a bit of showmanship. “Very nice. How long did it take you to figure out?” He said, as he put his hands back inside his pockets.

Edith shrugged. “A day or two. Wasn't that hard, to be honest.”

I raised an eyebrow. Hair manipulation, not that hard? “Really?”

Edith shrugged again,before starting to put away her gear. “Probably wouldn't have even passed my mind if you guys hadn't told me about it. But once I tried? I don't know, it was like it just... ‘clicked,’ you know?”

I stroked my chin thoughtfully. “...Well, it is the earth-pony version of using your hands... I guess some level of instinct for it, makes sense...”

She held up a screwdriver... somehow just sticking to her hoof. “Well, more like your fingers, but I see what you meant.”

I leaned a little closer, noting to my amusement that I was not the only one that did so. It looked... almost, but not quite, like a heat-haze around part of her hoof. But instead of rising, it clung around the tool in lazy coils…

She wasn't even holding it as such, there was a thin but clear line where I could see the room behind. As if the thing was quantum locked to her hoof.

Just utterly fascinating.

I glanced at my companions again.

Alexander had already leaned back, ‘Oh, that's neat.’ written on his face. Polite interest, nothing more.

Tim... Looked fascinated, but a bit troubled. No doubt a part of him, however small, was worried just where Edith was really drawing these powers from... Can't say I blame him, even if I worried more about the physical and mental price, rather than the spiritual.

But Morgan? There was this... fire in his eyes. A hunger, I don't think I had ever seen burn quite so bright.

I cursed internally. I'd actually forgotten that old wound of his.

You see, Morgan used to be deeply into the occult. When we were both... twelve, fourteen? Something like that. Seances, voodoo, hoodoo, curses and blessings…

For a while, he tried everything short of writing a contract in blood and sticking it into the lock of a church door.

I suppressed a shudder. To my knowledge.

Bloody hell, once he tried a old recipe for a love-potion... On the classes two worst bullies.

Björn and Anders. Kinda sad it didn't work actually... Would have rocked their little worthless worlds and they would have made a cute couple…

(I shuddered as another memory tried to resurface, one about those two and Morgan... But I fought it down. They had gotten what they deserved, that was the important bit.)

But that was the thing. None of it had worked... except to deepen his reputation as ‘That Weird Kid...’ I knew he still read on the subject... and still found it fascinating.

He had simply utterly given up hope of ever getting a use for any of it.

...And now, ponies walked the real world.

Magical ponies, with mystical magic powers.

Of magic.

Oh yeah, I would need to keep an eye on him. Stop him from acting foolish.

...Granted, he usually managed to remain on top of that amoral streak of his... But if he lost the chance at even attempting to learn magic by coming on too strong? I don't think he would ever forgive himself.

He must have realized it himself, because I saw him lean a bit more against the door-frame, forcing himself to go a bit less tense. He cleared his throat. “...What's it like?”

Such simple words... and yet there was something I never thought would come from Morgan off all people in them.

Morgan, who thought (not so secretly) that even spiritualism was a waste of time.

Morgan, that thought that even declaring yourself a agnostic atheist was a waste of time and brain power. (Took awhile before I talked to him again over that one...)

Morgan, that thought openly that the pope should be tried for crimes against humanity... (Or more directly, the children of humanity... That one I actually agreed with.)

Morgan... had just asked such a simple question in such awe, it bordered on reverence.

...Damn, you think you know somebody...

The room (and corridor) got very quiet at that. Apparently, I was not the only one taken by surprise.

Edith snatched up the screwdriver she had dropped, clearly a bit embarrassed. “...Umh... Kinda nice, I guess?”

Morgan raised an eyebrow. “Your warping... what, gravity perhaps? To hold a screwdriver, and it is ‘kinda nice?’”

I looked closer at the disturbance... Hmm, gravity may cause a lensing effect and earth-ponies are connected (allegedly) to the earth, something that implies mass and those kind of forces... But for it to be visible like that? Without turning the room into a fine paste? The forces involved were in that case utterly beyond me.

...Like magic, even.

Edith quickly trotted (with a ‘limp’ since she was still holding the tool) over to her workbench, before (almost to quickly) turning and stuttering out: “Y-y-yeah...”

Morgan stared at her for a moment... before throwing his head back and giving of a deep, merry laugh.

The damn thing was infectious, and the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes and followed my mate's example...

Oh sweet mercy, that is just utterly adorable!

Was Edith blushing like a fire-truck, rubbing her front-hooves together. The end of her braid and tail, twitching like a irritated cat's.

Author's Note

Author's comment:

For those that are confused about the ‘The Three Caballeros’ bit…

This might prove illuminating.

This as well.