Deus Ex: Cosplay Revolution

Odd.

That's how I'd describe the last three days from my position, laying on the back of a bed and staring at the ceiling. Odd was the only word I could really use, and possibly that justification was keeping me from breaking down and crying in a corner.

This place was certainly real enough, the hard knock with the train told me enough about that. The cold feeling from those nanites or whatever just solidified it. No denying it, I was stuck in some Oddworld variation of the My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic universe, where the ponies looked like people.

Thankful for that, at least. Meant I hadn't gotten the pitchforks-and-torches greeting, and the "I have a condition" excuse still worked. Still felt bad, knocking that chick over the head, but that was just panicked thinking. Besides, I might be able to appeal in a court that I wasn't exactly in my right mind when I did that. No excuse for breaking into the boutique, so I was fully expecting having to explain myself if someone connected the dots.

But why wasn't I panicking? I should've been panicking. Hitting a person over the head, doing some things that are blatantly illegal, searching for a damn conspiracy in the staff of a bunch of pony-people three weeks before a wedding? Too surreal, too surreal. The riskiest thing I'd done back home was help my friend graffiti a building, and I was lucky not to get caught. Had a sick feeling in my stomach before, after, and during it, but I pushed it back down.

Here? Here, though, it must've been different. Must've been some disconnect in my mind between the appearance of actual people and these... ponies, whatever. I'd hesitate to hit a person, even lightly, but I'd gone ahead and whacked the lyre chick over the head without a second thought. Didn't feel bad, doing it, but now that I think about it, it's making me feel a little sick.

And why did I take that job from "I" or whatever his name was? For all I know he was some evil overlord intent on taking over the world with a shadow government. All I know about them is that he's got augmentation canisters, agents, and some knowledge of me from the first day here, and my name. A scary thought, but what if he deemed that I'd "served my purpose" and killed me if I didn't find this conspiracy?

Hell, couldn't go back now. This wasn't a video game, all choices were final. Best to keep on going forward, try not to think too hard on some things.

That must've been it. The little disconnect you get from being in a surreal situation, that you don't think about what you've done until after the fact. That had to be it.

Fuck, I needed to stop thinking. Needed to get my head in the game. Needed to get an audience with this "I" guy, see if he could get me to these Spearmints of Marmalade or whatever they were called, and find a way to use them to get back home. Soon as I found this conspiracy, soon as I did that, I could do the rest of that.

I stood up, looked at the clock, and started taking stock of my options.

Could talk with the staff, see what was going on with them. Think they'd listen, considering I was a guest and the staff had to listen. Of course, a nameless bum going around asking questions was gonna raise suspicion. I didn't want that, no, not at all.

Could turn on the Run Silent thing and sneak out after dark. More than likely there'd be someone doing dirty deeds, and if I caught them and brought the fucker to the police, then I could quick and easy get the conspiracy ousted. But then I'd be questioned as to why I was out late at night.

Could pull an Edward Snowden, leak to the authorities that the conspiracy happened as an anonymous tip. Would be a different way out, but I don't think the "I" guy would like it. If he had nanotech, and "agents", then chances were they had experience "silencing" people. Would be risky, but if I did it anonymously... fuck, too many choices!

My stomach rumbled. I'd gotten here past lunch time, and the only thing that counted for my breakfast was a pretty-good sub from a street vendor. Needed to get dinner, that's what. Think it happened at seven o'clock, dinnertime.

With a sigh, I threw the turtleneck on, put on the shades, and combed my hair. Hopefully I'd be able to pass myself off as a bum, but if that didn't work... I'd not like to think about it.

Was 6:30, last I checked. Might as well get moving.

The line going to the cafeteria in the mess hall wasn't too long. I'd gotten there pretty early, right before it was supposed to start, with a couple others. Most of them looked to be ponies on the lower-class side of the scale. Workers, struggling artists, all those kinds. None of them paid any mind to me, in my turtleneck and dusty slacks, which was good. Swear I saw some looking real long and hard at my nose, but a quick stink-eye got them to back off.

"Order 30, D. Mays, ready for pickup!" I heard. Soon as I got there a chef handed me a tray with some vegetable soup and garlic bread on it. "What'd you like to drink, sir?"

"Water, please."

She nodded her head. "Alright, coming right up," she said, cheery as could be.

Then a glass of water landed on my tray, and soon as that happened I walked to an empty table, sat down, and started eating. Was actually pretty good, but it'd not come anywhere close to my mother's cooking. Devoured it anyway, considering it was free food.

Halfway through the bowl of soup, a pony sat down in front of me. Nice looking, for a member of a different species. Silver-white main, blue-coat, purple eyes, unicorn horn, all on a slim frame. Wore a star-spangled coat and magician's hat.

"Mind if I sit here?" she asked, almost sad-like.

I nodded, taking another spoonful of soup. She had the same meal as I, vegetable soup and garlic bread. Probably a stage performer who hit hard times, didn't have enough money to support herself.

"What's your story?" I questioned. "Ran out of town after a performance gone wrong?"

She nodded. "It was months ago. Still can't find work."

"Tough. I got in the country just a couple days ago, and they won't hire me cause of my face." I lied.

"You got a condition?"

Didn't even bother nodding. She sighed, returned to her soup.

Soon as I got to the bottom of my bowl, I handed her an uneaten piece of garlic bread. She looked confused, but when she saw the bits I was counting out that confusion became readily more apparent. "Why are you giving Trixie money?"

"Hate to see a sad face," I grinned. Then I dropped the caps on her tray, stood up, and walked out. Trixie didn't follow, thankfully. Hope to god she found a job soon, and hopefully those twenty-five bits would get her jumpstarted on that.

Now, just needed to figure out what I was going to do to expose this conspiracy...