Darkside of the Moon

Let's just describe something for you here. Imagine that your body is working like it always has - you can feel it just like normal and all that. Except that it's not under your control; You can try to move it all you want, you'll feel just the little edge of movement, but it won't work for you.

At the same time, you're day-dreaming, everything is slightly off and you can see yourself and another standing somewhere. It never really settles on where, it's like a shifting mass of memories; the only near constant is them and you. It's almost impossible to relate.

That's what this was; a day-dream where I was the one being dreamed up.

Plus everything looked like a cartoon. That didn't at all lend any sanity to the situation.

A growling voice brought me back to reality. "What in the seven hubs of hell did you just do, ya thrice-damned idiotic gluestick?!"

Thorn looked over at Stormwall, and I could feel him grin. He had been expecting it this time, and he was the one in control - If anything this was risky for me, because I was just along for the ride, like some kid strapped into a shopping cart. "Oh, just having a chat with our new pal, nothin' much," He waved dismissively, and, by the feel of it was grinning in a disarming way.

The pegasus scowled, clearly less than pleased. "I swear you've got mud for brains."

'Is she always this pleasant?' I mentally scowled back at the blue beast, the expression only 'seen' by my green host.

He snorted, beginning to walk around the bus. I found myself paying attention to how he moved even as he thought back a response. 'Only if you're alive.'

We slowly walked about the orange vehicle, eyes taking it in. I smiled to myself as we looped it dull-coated metal, remembering days long past spent in a similar bus, sky blue, with an old man who had an infectious view on life.

'Her name is Harmony,' I stated it matter-of-factly, gesturing in that ghostly way towards the writing on the door.

The earth pony squinted, eyes running over the text. "That's what it says? Huh. Weird."

Stormwall had taken back her perch atop the bus, head lazily resting atop her hooves - or at least, lazily upon a cursory glance. The way her eyes followed Thorn, and by extension, myself told a different story; she was ready to move, and if she did, I was sure I would find myself thrown about the landscape.

'How's that the weird thing?' I mentally glanced at him. Surely I should be the weird thing. I was weird, right? Right?

"Well," he started, looking down and tracing designs into the dusty ground before us, "This is how you spell Harmony."

I looked at the completely alien runes on the ground - besides being somewhat hieroglyphic, they where beyond my comprehension. Oh joy. A learning experience.

Stormwall looked down on us, expression between amused and suspicious. "Is it really that dumb?"

We both looked up in annoyance at the pegasus, for a moment operating on the same wave length. "Well, by the looks of things, he's not exactly from around here," Thorn paused for a second, internally glancing my way before thinking a question my way. 'Where the heck did you come from actually?'

I opted for telling the truth. 'I'm from west of Hope. Off on the rain-coast.'

He relayed my message, a touch confused. Stormwall snorted, clearly not buying it.

There was a series of questions pulled from there, mostly as to where I was from or where I got my possessions, usually just Torn asking, the pegasus opting to remain distant. I was purposefully vague, using just enough to make it sound plausible, but never giving a clear answer.

Jacket? Gift from a friend. The Bus? I bought it off a dude on the borderlands. The guitars and amp, surprisingly, didn't cause much for questions - It seemed that amplified musical equipment was fairly common. When I thought about it, I remembered microphones, DJ turn-tables, fridge sized speaker cabinets and many other little quirks; ponies had a very odd tech-tree it seemed.

Questions as to what exactly I was where navigated with honest confusion; I was at almost as much of a loss as they - I wasn't a wendigo, I wasn't a pony, nor was I a changeling. I had a small nagging suspicion at the back of my mind, but I kept it to myself, fear of what would become of me if I was right chilling me, even if I was just a mirage in a pony's skull.

Finally though, the inevitable question.

'Ugh, I can't believe I was this rude. The name's Thorn,' He mentally raised a hoof, our surrounding dreamscape flooded with warm pastel colours. 'Your's?'

I paused. I knew I didn't want to use my real name - For starters, no one back home had ever gotten it right on the first try, and some never had it down at all. I dug at my mind, looking for a wicked sounding name, and didn't really find one. In a typical 'me' fashion, I just mumbled out the first string of words that whispered through my head.

"Dream Tide," I rubbed at the back of my head awkwardly. Well, that was certainly an uninspired name. Urg.

I knew why though - I still felt like I was in a reverie, floating outside of existence, and I was from the coast; the thought of the tide sweeping in and out of the harbor back home was comforting, and I suppose bringing that along with me was a calming thought.

Thorn took an askew glance at me as he informed Stormwall. 'Sounds like a unicorn name.'

I shrugged, even as the pegasus snorted indifferently in response to my name. 'Weird parents,' This was true, actually.

Now though, it was my turn to ask a question, having been observing our surroundings through the corners of Thorns eyes. If you wanna know, that's actually really friggin' hard to do. 'Where are we, exactly?'

"The Great Equestrian Frontier," He swept his eyes over the landscape. It looked dusty and mostly barren to the west, a mountain range visible off to the east , leaving north and south revealing a whole lot of nothing as far as the eye could see, save a few objects barely visible against the skys backdrop to the south-west. Creosote plants dotted the country-side, the greenery telling me it was the relatively wet season. Deserts ain't always dead, but this was still hot and dry.

Stormwall snorted. "The dustbowl," She had flipped onto her back, gazing up at the cloudless sky. "Nothin' to do out here other then pray, farm, steal or salvage."

Thorn nodded in agreement. "We're a salvage crew, saw your - what did you call it again? Oh, right - Bus and decided to take a look. We're usually only out early morning and evenin's."

'Makes sense. Out before the heat gets bad, right?'

The green pony shrugged. "Not so bad now, gettin' on towards winter and all," he looked over towards the mountain range. "With any luck the Everfree will manage to push a rainstorm this way soon. Weather team only got so much to work with out here..."

"I hope there's another thunder storm first," Stormwall was hanging her head over the edge of the bus, wings spread across the cream coloured top. She reminded me more of a cat soaking up sun than a pegasus. "I need to get sum'more, used the last pod against that moron in Dodge."

Thorn grunted, though I wasn't sure what the inflection was - whatever magic let us share a body was doing its best to keep our minds apart, and it took effort to communicate; It was more like walkie-talkies in the brain.

'So, uh,' I fidgeted inside the earth ponies head. 'Seeing I'm kinda lost, could you maybe tow me to your place?'

His response was to grin widely. 'Always up to lending a hoof!' Externally, he turned to Stormwall. "We're haulin' this thing back to town after all!"

"Friggin' really now?" The Pegasus flipped off the vehicle, landing heavily on all fours, kicking up a small dust-storm. "Why the heck? Thing's ugly and smells bad."

Thorn raised an eyebrow questioningly, seemingly confused that she had to ask even as I internally bristled and spluttered incoherently. "'Cause it's the right thing to do?"

"Right thing to - Oh friggin' hey. This is going to be another disaster, I can friggin' feel it," The blue behemoth jabbed a hoof at Thorns chest, exasperated. "I friggin' swear to Luna and her moony ways that this is gonna go wildly out of control into the thrice damned whoop-de-doo's like every other friggin' time you stopped to help 'because it's right.'"

We rolled our eyes. "What could go wrong?"

Stormwall glared.

In open defiance of the normally jinxed phrase, and a little direction from me, Thorn managed to find the tow points and the tow-rope and we soon had the Bus rolling merrily away across the bad-lands towards the shapes I had spotted on the horizon.

Thorn and Stormwall made it look so easy to haul the aging hulk about (Mind you, a bus is like a giant tin-can on wheels, so perhaps it was.) and it rolled at a fair speed along the dusty ground.

I took the time to study how Thorn moved. I could feel each and every step he took, how he compensated for terrain, everything. My mind was running double time, one half taking in the movements, the other wondering at how exactly I wasn't freaking right the fuck out.

While I felt awkward on my own, everything seemed normal while I was in Thorn's body - even the tail and ears didn't phase me. The thought that it should feel wrong echoed through my head, but I decided to just ignore that little remaining doubt. Even the movements I was taking in and committing to memory seemed to flow perfectly - I had a sneaking suspicion that I wouldn't even stumble if I was in control.

The landscape was a seemingly uniform array of bland, and I honestly was having a difficult time telling the worn wagon trail from the surrounding landscape, though that was somewhat hampered by Thorn either looking towards town or at Stormwall, the two ponies idly chatting, occasionally broken by the green pony asking me some question.

'So, what are you going to do now, ghosty?' At some point the earth pony had decided that referring to me as a ghost was possibly the easiest thing for now (I didn't point out the perfectly valid point that I had mass and could touch things - I was a bit beyond ghostly.)

I mulled over Thorns question. What was I going to do, exactly? I had vague instructions from when I was sent here, but I wasn't exactly sure if I should follow them - the source was possibly just a wee bit unhinged. On the other hand, or hoof, as it may now be, I would be going to the highest of high-ups around here by doing so.

'I think I should go and see the Princess,' I looked over at him, the dreamscape we shared a touch on the indecisive side, refusing to settle on anything, colours at odds with each other. 'If anyone can find a solution, it's her.'

'Yeah, I could see how you'd want to get the whole 'I'm a ghost' thing sorted out...'

And find a way home, but I didn't share that thought.

As we pulled up into town, I took note of the rough construction - everything was made from planks, buildings huddling together, a raised boardwalk reaching out under the patios that sprouted below the false fronts of most buildings. It looked thrown together hastily, more like an outpost then a proper town - There was a distinct and almost troubling lack of colour, and just as much of a lack of ponies. In fact, there was not a soul to be seen in town as we trekked through. Even under a creaking sign, a faded image of a beer mug overflowing with more of that text adorning it, a building that should, by all rights, be a fine drinking establishment, there was nothing. No sounds reached me to betray the possibility of all of them just being inside; other then our own hooves and the soft road noise of the Bus, I couldn't hear much of anything.

The bleached wood of housing slowly gave way to a wall of similar building methodology, the pale slats that formed its massive hulk leaning slightly in and out of line as they had warped in the harsh sun.

Stormwall paused to unlock the gate, before swinging it wide open, the creak of aged steel inviting us into the walled off portion of town.

There where Wagons and Carriages and carts in various states of repair around the large yard, and I swore I spotted an airship gondola in one corner, as well as a few air balloon baskets (Though it was hard to tell when you couldn't control where your eyes focused.) Near the back, there was a building with large doors, more than large enough to haul a wagon or two into, the actual building itself fairly sizable, flat roofed and followed the same construction as every other structure so far had. It was maybe two stories tall from the looks of it, and lacked the false fronts many of the buildings in town has sported.

"Welcome to one of our little homes - Yard 17, Steelville."

Stormwall grumbled something under her breath, undoing her harness and trotting over to the large double doors, fiddling with a lock before throwing them open wide.

If the collection outside was anything, the one inside was amazing - It was like a hoarders paradise. Stacks of vinyls, a few nicer carriages, some furniture, a few nicknacks, I even spotted a pair of cannons and what looked like a...

'Is that a Royal-guard Helmet?'

Thorn's eyes focused on the piece of armour in question. 'Yeah, it's a Guard helm. Why?'

The once golden hued helm was battered and had seen better days, sitting atop a wagons seat. A particularly jagged cut ran over the one side, looking like  something a videogame hero would have taken in a brutal cut-scene. 'No reason. Just cool to see one for real.'

With a shrug, we passed it, which was far from terrible numerous other nicknacks and miscellanea stacked about to catch our eyes. A few instrument cases sat in one corner, gathering dust - Nothing that looked like something I could play, but still interesting. I swear I spotted a digery-doo when Thorn glanced one way.

"Anyways," The green pony continued aloud, making me wince as he talked to himself for all purposes, "We salvage what we can from the dust bowel, and hold onto it for a half year. If they don't claim it, we own it," He frowned momentarily. "Stormwall doesn't like to sell it off to fast though, so we have crap everywhere."

The pony in front grunted as she threw another door open, leading us into a kitchen. "And I told you, dust for brains, iffin we flood the market with wagons, they ain't worth shit."

That infectious smile covered the ponies face again. "Not worth shit sitting about collectin' dust neither."

Stormwall made an indifferent noise, tossing an old looking, metal fronted fridge open - One could see the icebox was unkept, almost solid with frost, as she stuck her head in, rifling about.

Something had been bothering me though. Mentally turning to my host, I raised the question less than tactfully. 'Why was the town so deserted?'

'Nightmare Night was last night - there was - '

The sound of ceramic hitting the floor and exploding interrupted us, followed rapidfire by Stormwall. "Celestia's friggin' tit! I dropped my quiche!" Blinking, we looked over at the disaster of custard and shattered plate that graced the floor.

Shaking his head and grinning, Thorn returned to talking-thinking-conversing with me. 'Big party, end of the main harvest season elsewhere, so there's more supplies on the way. Everypony's pretty happy about it.' We began making our way across the room, heading for a door.

Have I mentioned its hard to get your bearings when you lack all control? I'd attempt to describe it or something, but when you can't turn your head there isn't much you can do. There was a plain, wooden table, the white fronted, slightly rusty fridge, and what looked like a wood burning stove. Something was lighting the room, though I couldn't really tell what. It was frustrating because here I was, in Equestria, and It was like I was on a shitty tour where you can't actually do anything.

The chocolate treat of Equestria had been waved in front of my face, and then moved so I could only see it out of the corner of my eye it seemed.

Frowning, I attempted to will myself out of Thorns head.

I mentally exhausted myself (possibly looking like an Idiot, because Thorn stopped and blinked at me for a few seconds) before giving up, changing my aim to willing myself into control of the poor pony I was sharing a head with. Upon that failure, I found myself pouting in a corner of the earth ponies head. Just not fair, life.

"What's wrong?" We had stopped outside a door, one hoof on the knob. Stormwall grumbled something off behind us, possibly thinking we where talking to her.

'It's... Real annoying not being in control,' I confessed, frowning. 'It's like getting strapped to a cart and wheeled around, and you don't get a say in the matter really.'

"Well, what did it last time then?"

I pondered over that. 'I'm not sure,' My reply was slow as I thought it out. 'But I didn't even try to do it, it just happened...'

He hummed softly, opening the door carefully. "Maybe we should get Storm to knock my head off again."

My attempt to keep a straight face failed. 'Pffft. Hah! She'd send both of us through a wall, and your head is still sore from the first time.'

I wasn't  exaggerating; I could feel the ache of his sore neck and skull. Even filtered through whatever barrier was keeping our minds separate, it still throbbed; Just enough that it seemed like a bad headache for me. 'We'll figure it out dude.'

The staircase behind the door was a narrow affair, leading us upwards to the second story. When we hit the landing, Thorn surveyed the room, a proud smirk gracing his face. "Welcome to one of our many homes."

It was a huge, open concept affair, a large desk in one corner, a dark wood coffee table in the center, pillows strewn about haphazardly with two beds gracing opposite ends of the massive space. A trio of windows where on the north face of the room, shuttered against the light, most likely to stop the heat. The stove pipe entered the place  near the back wall, a mesh cage around the black pipe to keep things from getting close enough to start a fire. There was a mirror on the wall across from us, and something in it caught my eye.

'Hey, Thorn,' I was looking out of the corner of his eye at the mirror, not sure if I was seeing things right for it. 'Go over to the mirror, would you?'

With a puzzled look, he walked over, not quite standing square to it. His scars where less noticeable in the low light, but that's not what got me. I could see little wisps of cloudy blue-grey coming off him in the reflection - just a little haze, but I could see it.

Apparently Thorn could as well, because he blinked, and then looked back over himself. Nothing. Back to the mirror; there was that haze. "What in the name of..."

I shrugged. 'Something to do with me I guess. Not much we can do about it...'

He let out a low whistle. "That's some wicked magic dude, if it's throwing off energy like that," He paused, hoof to his chin as he peered into the mirror. "Wonder why it's only showing up in the mirror though..."

My mind flashed back, way back to an animated series pilot, and a dark reflection on an hourglass. It grinned.

Suddenly, just for a second, there was a different face in the mirror - blue eyes stared, cold pools still as death.

I shivered internally, staring back into our reflection. Thorns grey eyes carefully peered into the glass surface, trying in vain to find the cause for my reaction.

Clearly I was going insane; the mirror showed only us, Thorn in body, and the cloudy aura of me. Regardless, be it reality or fever dreams, my stomach was turning. Or was it Thorns? Sharing a body is confusing.

Thorns voice broke me out of my thoughts. "You okay?" The green pony's eyes brimmed with concern. the cloud coloured orbs focused on themselves even as he internally looked me in the face.

'...Yeah.'

It was a feeble lie, half-hearted at best, but apparently enough for the earth pony, who proceeded to show me about the place; not that there was terribly much to see.

"We're usually further into the dustbowl, we don't come here much," He was rubbing the back of his head as he glanced over the furnishings; they where old, worn, but the whole place looked like it had only recently started seeing use - When Thorn moved across the floor, he was kicking up dust, more than I'd expect even in the desert. "But, ah, after a bit of a run-in with a rather odd bunch, we're steering clear of a bunch o' towns..." He paused, glancing back down the stairs, annoyance playing across his features. I raised a phantom eyebrow, and in return the pony grimaced. "Lets not get inta it, please..."

I let it slide, much like my host had let my obvious lie slip past undetected.

Still a touch shaken from the mirror, I asked the obvious question. 'So, what now..?'