A Clockwork Foal

Quantum physics.

It’s the only explanation.

Yesterday I was home, playing some Portal 2 and now, I wake up in the middle of fucking nowhere - DC.

“Mas como caralhos isso aconteceu??? Onde eu estou???” (I am Brazilian, portuguese is my mother language.)

My voice is kind of high pitched, happens sometimes in the morning. I rub my head, why can’t I feel my fingers? My hand hits a lump on my forehead and I open my eyes.

“Okay, deve ter sido uma pancada- SWEET JESUS!!!”

A horn.

A fucking horn.

And my fingers are gone.

As a mentally adjusted human being, I stopped and started to go over what might have happened.

Just kidding, I screamed like a little girl.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHH. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH !! SANTO PAI DE INSISSO TENDE PIEDADE DE NOSSAS ALMAS, MAS QUE PORRA!!!”

Okay. Calm down.

“Deep breaths... Deeeeep breeeeaths. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

Can you blame me? I bet you would probably faint if this happened to you.

I am going to spare you of the accurate description of the several minutes I stood there, panicking and screaming. Eventually, I calmed down.

I am in the middle of an apple orchard. Probably Sweet Apple Acres (if I am where I think I am).

“Okay. I am a unicorn. What the fuck. Be logical, man, be logical. How and why?”

Let’s take a look at my memories. What happened last night? Let’s see…

Nothing. My memories say that I went to bed last night and just that. No deals with the Devil/Discord/John de Lancie , no scientific experiments gone wrong anywhere, no drugs, no nuclear war, nothing. Maybe it is a hallucination. Test time!

I take my “hoof” to my mouth and bite down. Hard.

“Ai ! Flilho duma puta !!!” Nope, this is real.

As I said, the only explanation is quantum physics. In layman’s terms: “Shit happens. Weird shit. Get over it.” Maybe I was the victim of a naked singularity of a micro black hole. A singularity is the point of space where reality breaks down. 2+2 equals fish, manly Justin Bieber, everything and anything is possible. Normally, it would be hidden behind an event horizon (and therefore impossible to interact with unless you fell in a black hole), but physicists have theorized that if a black hole had a fast enough rotation it could cause the singularity to be exposed. The more you know.

“Okay, this is real apparently. I have to get my priorities straight here. Number 1: What do I look like?”

I look at my own hooves. They are a light shade of grayish-blue; my mane is black and short, but big enough so I can see a tip of it if I push it down, kind of like Scootaloo’s. Looking back, I see no wings, which is good, because winged unicorns are about as common as finding diamonds in chocolate, they would call a lot of unwanted attention for me. The color scheme is also good. Looks like the kind of thing you could actually see in the show, I should be able to blend in the crowd. There is also a saddlebag that I had not noticed; witch is preventing me from seeing my cutie mark.

“Hm, wonder what is inside.”  I take it of manually. In case you are wondering, I can’t use magic right now. I have to fix that latter.

There are two compartments. The left one has my cell phone (an amazing Nokia 7230, wouldn’t trade that though son of a bitch for no other phone), my laptop, my external hard drive (2 TB, God do I love it. It is almost full with music, games, e-books, documentaries and movies), the mouse, the earphones and their respective chargers. I take my laptop of.

“Let’s see if you are alright.”

It looks big. My laptop is not very strong on the portable aspect because of its 17-inch screen, but now it is almost as big as my body. Maybe ponies are smaller than we think.

The Windows 7 log in screen comes up; I enter my password using the tip of my hooves. Everything is okay, even the battery is fully charged. I connect the external drive. All okay there too. I put them back on the bag.

My Nokia is also fully charged, but I turn it off. I don’t know what level of technology they have here; better not risk a major freak out by keeping my ‘music playing box’ hidden.

The right compartment has a notebook, my inkwell pen (I love my pen, cost me 100 US$ dollars, but is it pretty), my father’s Rambo knife (that will be useful), my leather jacket (it’s fake leather, so it should keep everypony from panicking. It was also apparently altered to fit my pony body) and a cube.

I dress up with my jacket. It isn’t exactly cold, but I just can’t stay naked. My mind keeps screaming for me to put on some clothing. Now, mystery cube.

A white-grayish 4x4x4 metal cube. What the fuck.

“Wonder what this is.”

I grab it with my right hoof, only to have let it slip and back to the bag. It is heavy as fuck. I say at least 1 kilo, maybe a kilo and a half (imperial measuring system is for boys, metric is for man). I pick it up again, a little more carefully this time. It is beautiful; it almost screams ‘bow before me’. What is it made of anyway? The only metal I know of that would look and weight this much is…

“Platinum…”

Okay. I have a cube of platinum. What the fuck. Seriously, there is no way this is some kind of weird accident involving singularities. Someone or something wants me here, and they want me with money. BIG money. Do you have any idea of how much platinum costs? 47 dollars the GRAM! This cube must cost at least 47 thousand dollars back on earth. Here, I have no idea, but I bet it is expensive as well, or else Princess Platinum wouldn’t have that name.

I place everything back on the bag. Time for a physical evaluation.

“Number two: Learn to use my body.”

I have never walked in all fours before. Actually, I have, but I don’t remember being a baby, so it doesn’t count. Shouldn’t be too hard.

“Front left hoof, right back hoof. Right front hoof, left back hoof.”

I am trying to imitate what I see the ponies doing in the show. It is actually very easy. I was expecting to hit the ground; instead, I am trotting like a boss.

It actually feels very good. Kind of like dancing, it is much more pleasurable and easy to walk as a pony than as a human. I walk around for a few minutes, getting used to the movement of my legs and hooves.

“Now: Magic.”

This is going to be harder.

How am I even supposed to do this? In the show, they close their eyes and focus. Let’s try that.

I close my eyes, focus on the horn. Feel the horn…

“Wow.”

It…

It is…

It’s like…

I can’t explain.

Sorry. But it is so weird. Explaining it would be like trying to explain color to a person who is blind. It kind of feels good in a way too.

“Now, doing it with my eyes open.”

It is a little harder; closing eyes really helps in concentration and makes it much easier. That explains why Twilight closes her eyes when casting spells. My horn is glowing with a faint sepia color, probably my eyes are brown. Let’s see what I can do.

I focus my mind in a small rock right next to me. It’s funny; I can feel its weight, its texture. All of it is kind of like having a ghost hand. I levitate it a few times. It is not very tiring, but this requires concentration. Maybe with time I will be able to use telekinesis without having to pay so much attention.

“Number three: What am I going to do?”

I need some control; I need objectives. I take my notebook and pen. Try the pen a couple of times; write down a few test words. My “hornwriting” is much better than my handwriting, go figure.

After a few minutes, I finally finish my list.

Objectives

1: Acquire currency

2: Find shelter

3: Find a job

4: Meet main 6 (0/6)

5: Meet support cast

Talking about jobs, what am I good at? I look back at the now saddlebag-free flank.

A book with an infinity symbol on it. That is nice. Not very flashy of a cutie mark, but looks common. As I said, I don’t much attention for myself. Having a human or a computer for cutie mark would be a beacon of weirdness.

Yeah, that looks about right. Ponyville is there in the horizon; I should be able to get there in no time and- Is the sun setting?

“Well, shit. How long have I been sleeping?”

God knows. But I don’t think the jewelry will still be open by the time I get to Ponyville, so I can’t trade the Platinum for bits. Where am I going to sleep?

Maybe I can find the clubhouse, should do for a night. I am in the middle of Sweet apple acres after all.

                                             ________________________________________

“But of all the world's great heroes, there’s none that can compare. With a tow, row, row, row, row, row, to the British Grenadier!”

Fact: The British Grenadiers march is the catchiest military march ever written. It is physically impossible to not whistle/hum the rhythm after hearing it for the first time.

I’ve been walking for a good 20 minutes now; I really hope I am getting close to that damn house.

“And speaking of the devil…”

There it is. Strange, looks bigger than in the show. I climb up; it is very cozy, there is also what appears to be a battery powered light bulb that I immediately turn on.

Everything looks bigger than it should, like if I am the same size as the crusaders. Wait a second…

High pitch in voice, everything looks big, difficulty on dealing with magic…

I wasn’t just transformed into a unicorn.

I have been transformed into a unicorn FOAL!!!!

“But I am 15!” I scream for God and heaven to hear.

Obviously, I panicked. Again. I admit I should not have, but I did anyway. A few minutes later I calm down.

This is bad, very bad. Horribly bad. A 15 year old mind trapped in the body of a 9 year old (or something close to that, I don’t know their correct age) is not a good combination. I have knowledge, sense of humor, morality, tastes, desires and view of the word completely incompatible with this age.

This also makes my whole hiding plan a thousand times harder. Ponies are going to notice a new foal walking around, not attending to school and with no visible parents. The jewelry shopkeeper will probably think I stole the platinum cube and not give me any money. I won’t be able to get a job.

“Well, shit.”

I am tired. I was going to tell you more about me, but I don’t feel like it right now. Apparently, being transformed into a pony takes a lot of energy and this cold shower of bad news doesn’t help. Don’t worry, tomorrow I will do it.

I place my saddlebags on the ta ble and lay on the wood floor. The knife right beside me, only to be sure. I am, after all, in a farm close to the Everfree forest. Wouldn’t want a timber wolf or some other beast to come devour me while I sleep.

“*yawn* I will come up with something. Tomorrow…”