Darkside of the Moon

by Mothykins

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Human, Sad
Length: 12905

As humans know, the darkside of the moon is always there, even if you can't see it.

When someone forces a job upon you, it's usually a bad thing. When that job comes with a new body that's almost helpless on its own, it's a terrible thing.

When your body is the stuff of bad dreams and lets you possess others, you are pretty sure you've been screwed.

Add that up with the fact that your employer is apparently a dead god that everyone was sure was out of the running, who wants you to remind the world that she is, in fact, very much alive?

Well boy, I hope you enjoy being a Grim-Dark Nightmare.

A very late player to the Chess Game of the Gods.

—-AN—-
Please note - While I love the idea, I plan on focusing on Duet as well - when writers block strikes one, off to the other I will go.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-05-16 19:52:47 UTC

Brain Damage/Eclipse

I never was one for picking up hitchhikers.

For one, they where usually just plain crazy, or smelt bad, or where just as likely to stab you and make off with everything you have then actually, you know, hitch-hike. For another, I generally never stop when going from one point to another.

That’s why I have no right idea why I picked her up.

She was built like a knife – razor thin, tall, the dark tan of heat-treating gracing her skin, hair so dark of a blue it was nearly black (wonderful colour, I always figured,) and was wearing a well fitting black and silver jacket, a small crescent over the breast pocket. I had slowed, for whatever, reason, and caught her icy blue eyes. Perhaps that's why I stopped and backed up for her – they where the type of eyes that bored their way right through a man.

She had smiled, the expression not quite hitting her eyes, as I popped the passenger door open, the old steel complaining as the 34 year old "Hippie-Bus" reminded me that it was a dozen years older then I (even with a full rebuild it complained. Old fart…) Without a word, she slid into the brown bucket seat, and snapped the seat-belt around her tiny waist.

I raised my eyebrow, a pointless gesture as it was hidden by my tuque, the olive drab hat resting against the top edge of my glasses.

She smirked as she glanced at me, eyes tracing the buttons pinned to the brim. She flashed me a smile full of teeth, sharp canines and all, before making a simple statement, followed by a short laugh. "Muffins and Bubbles."

I just rolled my eyes as she slammed the door shut.

We sat there for a moment, stereo playing some cheerful dance song that I was hardly paying attention to (I think it was an Archie mix) as my mind slowly processed the sudden impulsive actions I had taken. Shaking my head (this wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last stupid thing I had done, not by far,) I simply asked the question that needed to be asked; "Where’re you headed?"

"Oh, here and there, maybe a little north of a dark forest," She waved her hand, steel painted nails catching the suns dying rays.

I once again raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so out past Hope?" It was generally the direction I was headed, so I figured it was worth a shot to get some clarity.

She grinned again, all fangs, and cackled. "Precisely."

With that familiar rumble behind it, the old orange and cream vehicle slowly picked up some speed as we cruised down the highway. As we made time towards the small town between the Fraser and Coquihalla rivers, she glanced about the worn interior of the bus.

I knew it was a bit of a mess, two guitar filled cases and an amp thrown in the back, as well as the un-made bed in the back (not that it was really ever used. This was a Bus, not a Westy-camper, and never let confusion enter your mind.)

The tall and dark lady hmmm'd softly to herself, tap-taping on the dash before hitting skip on the CD player. Ignoring the song change, I kept my eyes on the road.

"I think," She started, slowly bouncing her head to the song, "That I have a job for you."

I glanced over at her, taking my eyes from the road for a moment before snapping them back, raising a hand to push a stray curl of hair from my face. "Oh?"

She chuckled, icy blue eyes reflecting off the front window as if they where glowing in the twilight. "I want you to go with me and tell my dear sister something."

I rolled my eyes again. Clearly she was on a headset or something.

"No, I mean you, you daft tuque wearing gluestick."

My head snapped about, and I stared at her slack jawed for a moment. How did she...?

Suddenly, the stereo was screaming at me, the volume nearly unbearable;

The lunatic is in my head.

You raise the blade, you make the change,

You re-arrange me 'til I'm sane.

You lock the door

And throw away the key;

There's someone in my head but it's not me.

And if the cloud bursts, thunder in your ear

You shout and no one seems to hear.

And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes;

"I'll see you on the dark side of the moon." Her voice pierced the rest of the song, her icy vocals driving through my brain.

Suddenly, I realized that I wasn't watching the road.

That ceased to matter as in a split second there was no sight, no sound - The world just went black, except two cold draconian eyes and even those faded.

I awoke to the sun pouring into the front window of the bus.

Well, partially to that, mostly to the fact that something was scratching on the metal door. My initial reaction was to swear and bolt upright - something that immediately earned me a shocked yelp as someone fell backwards from the door.

Scowling, memory of last night entering my mind, I went to push the door open to survey the damage and give who ever was scratching my paint up shit, I encountered two problems.

First off, I couldn't pull the door handle open - It was like it was super-glued shut, impossible to move.

The second came as I glanced down to see why I was having problems.

I found a third as I screamed - Or tried to.

There was nothing to scream with.

For the other problem was that I was composed of a misty, slightly glimmering mass of stuff. The fact that I had actually managed to grasp onto something with a rounded appendage made of what looked like an angry cloud was secondary. My eyes went wide as I panicked and grabbed at the door handle again, a soft blue glow covering it, slamming it open and leaving me absolutely exhausted as I tumbled out onto the dead, dry grass beside my prized bus.

And right in front of the hooves of something I had never thought I would see. I stared up, wide eyed and panicking slightly at an impossible sight, mouth wordlessly moving.

Standing before me was a stallion, seemingly towering over me, wide grey eyes staring at me with as much surprise as I at him. Green coat and a brown mane, cut short and jagged. Not at all a face I knew, but it was a pony. A thrice-damned pony. I was someplace I had no right to be at all. There was no damn way this was happening - My mind just shut down and I wordlessly and soundlessly babbled at his hooves, eyes wide as saucers.

"Uuuuuhh," his voice was full of uncertainty as he looked me over, apparently taking me to not be an immediate threat. "You okay?"

I shook my head frantically, attempting to shout my distress, before throwing my arms into the air in defeat for a moment before crashing down dramatically, throwing a tantrum like I had never before.

"You can't talk, I guess?"

My response was to nod frantically, silently screaming how much it sucked.

He sighed. "Guess that makes asking you what the heck this is and why the heck you where in it pointless, huh?"

I gave him a look, mouthing 'no shit.'

"Well, here, lets get you off the ground at the very least." He reached out with a hoof, offering assistance.

I reached out and touched him.

The effect was as immediate as it was disorientating - My world seemed to be funneled through a straw, and I heard a yelp as I was suddenly upright and facing my vehicle, mind swimming.

I took in the unharmed vehicle with an internal breath of relief, eyes tracing the half open door, looking at the word 'Harmony' written in bold lettering across its lower section before having my heart stop as I found myself focusing on what was atop the Bus.

The massive pegasus glowered from the roof, bright amber eyes narrowed even as she brushed her messy charcoal mane from her face, Blue coat nearly blending into the sky. I am not joking when I say she towered over everything. "What the heck did that freaky pony do to ya?"

My mouth moved without my input, startling me. "Dunno. It's just... gone."

'Ah fuck no.' I began panicking.

My eyes blinked, looking about for a moment.  "Do you hear...?" My mind blanked.

"Hear what?"

My-his head shook. "Never mind. Let's just go - Doesn't matter what's in there, it's not worth the trouble of dragging this thing back into town," With that he turned us away.

For some reason all I could think was 'No! At least take the keys and lock it!' Even as I was swimming in another creatures head, being technically kidnapped at this point, my prized possession was at the forefront of my mind.

My body's legs locked up, the stallion's head swinging about frantically. "Who?"

The winged pony cocked her head, looking at me/him/us like we just went crazy. "You okay there dude?"

"I swear I just heard somepony tell me to lock it and take the keys."

'I must be crazy,' I thought, mind clearly not working at all right. I was in this pony's head!

His head swung around, scanning the area again, a feeling of bewilderment in the back of my mind. "Who's there?"

My next thought was simple as he flailed his head about, frantically searching. 'He's going to make me dizzy with all this head swinging,' I tried to stop it, and even though I could feel his body (and boy, did it feel strange - not to mention naked) I could do nothing to stop the frantic searching. Groaning internally, all I could do was go on for the ride. 'How in the hell are you not getting sick?'

'That sounded like...'

I wanted to jump as I heard his voice echo through my mind. 'As if having someone talk with my body wasn't freaky enough.'

I felt my eyes widen.

"Stormwall?" Our head turned to look at the winged pony.

"Yuh?"

"I know where he went," Fear was running from his mind to mine. "He's in my head."

'Gee, thanks, now she's going to be really pissed at me.'

Stormwall opened her muzzle to speak, only for this stallion I was currently riding along with to cut her off in response to me. "It's not like you made a great impression!"

Mentally, I rolled my eyes. 'I honestly have no fucking clue what is going on.'

With a snort, he physically rolled his own. "Right."

"Dude, you are freaking me right out." Stormwall's gritty voice broke our argument.

"Sorry," I thought it, he said it.

'Look, I have no Idea what the heck is going on. I was driving my bus,' I somehow gestured to the orange and cream vehicle behind us as I thought/spoke to the pony, 'And then some crazy lady went all wacko on me and bam. Here. As a thing.' I conveniently left out exactly who I figured the crazy lady was.

He was less than convinced. "Yeah, 'kay..."

'Look, it's not like I'm hurting you dumbass,' I was a bit frustrated at this point. 'I can't even talk!' He opened his mouth again, only for me cut him off mentally. 'And think it, don't say it, you're freaking her out!'

A backwards glance showed the pegasus was indeed looking a bit worried as she looked over us, hopping down off the bus and moving over towards us.

'Sorry.'

Internally sighing and to bummed out to panic, I glumly let myself think. 'I can't do anything. Useless as always.'

'Well, don't let me stop you,' I snorted, it sounded like something I would say as he took a step forwards. 'Do whatever you want, just-' He stopped.

I blinked. Someone gasped.

I blinked again. Slowly, disbelievingly, I turned our head and raised a hoof to touch our muzzle. The feel of an unshod hoof on ones face is something odd, for sure.

'What the hell?' His voice was screaming in the back of my mind. 'Why can't I do anything?!'

Following on the course, I blinked once more. "I don't know? Maybe-" I stopped again. The voice was wrong, I noticed, strangely not panicking, an icy calm running through me. That's about when I noticed the screaming outside of my head.

I turned to look at the gigantic female pegasus, her eyes full of rage as she screamed at me, my mind taking a moment to register exactly what.

"-in Celestia's name did that thing do! Answer me Thorn!"

I found myself ignoring the pony in my head as I focused on the other one, confused as all hell as to what exactly was going on as I looked up at a very upset pegasus - a very upset pegasus that stood a full head taller then I did. This gained me more shouting.

All I could do was stare. "Holy crap..." in the back of my mind, the other pony was shouting back.

I found myself closing my eyes, in a situation of the sorts I have never liked, two people (ponies, whatever) screaming at me as we all attempted to figure out exactly what the hell had gone wrong.

Finally I had enough. "Shut the hell up!" I roared the command at the two of them, gaining silence.

Fuming, I planted my hooves and glared up at the pegasus. It was far too damn early in the day to deal with this. A simple thing to learn about me; I am not a morning person, I prefer to sleep in and run late through the night than to get up early. This was not a welcome morning routine.

"You!" I snarled it out, voice a touch cold sounding for my tastes. "Without the yelling this time, tell me what the hell is going on!?"

She blinked those yellow eyes as I glared at her, mind most likely running through a couple hundred questions of her own. My tail lashed in agitation, my mind double taking for a moment as it registered that sensation.

Lets get one thing straight. I was coming to terms with that fact I had just stolen this poor dudes body. I was coming to terms that quite a few things happened on a semi-autopilot while in said body. I was not at all used to said things and the feelings that accompanied them, nor with the fact my mind just refused to panic. A tail is a new thing. While it happening didn't bother me at all, an icy wall stopping me from freaking out, the fact that it didn't bother me did. This was easily shown by me shivering.

In any case, the wonderful beast of a pegasus known as Stormwall responded with a question of her own, eyes narrowing. "What did you do to him?"

"I don't know? I'm asking you for god's sake." My reply was cross, eyes narrowing in kind as I ignored the pony in my head.

She snorted, pawing at the ground, wings slowly spreading in an aggressive stance. Holy shit they where huge. Remember Gilda's wings? Yeah, here was a pegasus that stood almost as tall with wings just as large, and an attitude to match. "Like you don't know, demon."

My response was to honest to god facehoof at her line. And that's when I found out another fun fact.

'That is not my hoof,' Thorns comment was very much a deadpan.

'It very much is,' I shot back internally as I inspected the now nearly pitch black appendage with curiosity. I hmmmed softly. "Now isn't that interesting..."

Being the superbly intelligent man I am, I failed to notice a very angry lady decide that the time for discussion was over and proceed to slam me backwards. There was that disorientating feeling once more before I found myself laying a good distance from a groaning pony known as Thorn, a very angry pegasus hovering over him protectively.

I did what any brave man would do In my situation.

I curled into a ball and did my best to whimper.

Exposition

"Dude, I think you killed him."

Thorn and Stormwall hovered over where I cowered on the ground, the earth pony sounding upset as he said this.

The pegasus snorted. "I didn't hit that hard."

If that wasn't a hard hit, I really didn't want to find out what it felt like when she actually tried. The impact had left me groggy, sore all over (I faintly realized I wasn't breathing - I suppose I didn't need to anymore, though I sure felt winded.) In any case, no use delaying the inevitable, right?

I slowly opened my eyes, blinking a few times from the suns glare. This earned a snort from the big blue behemoth of a pegasus.

"Told ya."

Thorn sighed. "Come off it Stormy. Poor dudes already freakin' out as it is." That was possibly the understatement of the year. I shook as I twisted my neck to take a look at them, Stormwall glaring down and Thorn looking worried. Apparently the green pony was something of a softie, as his next comment took me off guard. "Come on, get yer rump up and lets take a look at you. Dunno how we're gonna tell if you're hurt or not without..." He gestured vaguely. "Ya know."

No. No I did not know. Regardless, I awkwardly struggled onto four appendages.

And promptly fell over again, expressing pain voicelessly.

"Well, if anything he's less intimidating then the friggin' dig-dog you gave directions to."

Thorn snorted, stooping down to peer at me. "That dog was a big wussy puppy for Celestia's sake," He stopped, looking a bit distracted. "And now we have a scary looking wussy colt. Weird stuff."

I was glancing back and forth between them as they talked - one can't input much when you're confused and mute, and I would rather just let them ramble then become a kickball for the pegasus.

Stormwall, however, was proving to be less then amiable. "I swear you're a walking, talking gluestick sometimes dude. Always taking things at face-value," She gestured at me with a wing. "I think we should leave it here and scram before I need to friggin' bail your sorry rump outta trouble. Again."

I finally managed to stagger to my hooves (I was fairly comfortable saying, while odd looking, they where in fact hooves) and shook my head no, eyes wide. Hell no. I did not want to be left out here alone. I didn't even know where here was!

"You know, I'm pretty sure the dude has a name. Calm the heck down Storm, he seemed pretty confused," He glanced back towards me. "Plus he seems to be pretty sure he doesn't wanna get ditched out here."

Stormwall groaned. Sure, I could see her angle on this; I was weird, and had already done something bizarre, so I could be dangerous. She looked down at me again. "I am going to regret this, but fine, whatever," She jabbed him in the chest with a hoof, not looking away from me. "But don't say I didn't warn ya."

Thorn rolled his eyes, turning to me. "I guess you can come with us then."

That sounded fine to me. I cracked a smile, turning towards my bus - Perhaps this wouldn't be so ba-

All thoughts where put on hold as I crashed down. With my first step came my first trip as I toppled over, unused to my new body. Thorn exclaimed something as Stormwall laughed. Gritting my teeth, I tried again, made it a few steps and proceeded to eat dust. Not exactly tasty.

A third attempt left me cross. I didn't need to move, I decided; I was just fine and dandy exactly where I was. I would have blown my hair (which looked just as cloudy and ethereal as the rest of me, small glimmering specks faintly visable in it) out of my face if I could actually breathe anymore, the purple tinged grey mass of stuff having fallen over one eye during my last marvelous attempt.

"Can't even walk?" Thorn looked down at me again, confused, but clearly making an attempt to avoid contact; not that I could blame him. Stormwall guffawed. I grimaced from my position on the ground. Well, now I had to try again.

With a silent groan, I shoved myself back to my hooves, shot the blue jerkass a glare and slowly made my way towards my bus. Sure, I stumbled and teetered, but I managed to get to the door. Pausing, I looked in the side mirror, curiosity getting the better of me.

The first things I noticed where my eyes. Still hazel, brilliant green currently pushing the dark brown off towards the outer edges of my iris - with me, that usually meant I was either stressed or sick; my family had often joked that I had mood rings for eyes. Very familiar slitted pupils graced their centers though - a chill ran down my spine as my own eyes darted back and forth, legs stumbling me back a step, letting more of me show in the tiny mirror.

Was I freaking out? Fuck yes. I never was very good with change - I either froze up or started babbling in a pseudo-excitement as I tried to rationalize.

In this case I locked up. A small breeze kicked up, blowing my mane about my muzzle. My body had felt almost normal until I got a good look at it - Then all the unfamiliar feelings flooded in.

I was built from some sort of cloudy mass - turbulent grey and purple, almost black towards the hooves, mane shades lighter, making my eyes stand out like a sore thumb. I was thin - It almost looked like someone had crafted a pony out of wire and covered it in mist. My unworldly body occasionally glimmered, as if there was something shining right under the surface, though I had no Idea what that could be. I now knew for a fact my mane and tail flowed like the clouds they where in the wind.

I silently whimpered, turning and stumbling around the door to the drivers seat. My tuque sat to the side, apparently having fallen off, my olive-drab jacket over the back of the other seat still. My other clothes where missing, I noticed - my glasses, for starters, though It seemed I could see fairly well without, but a glance into the back of the bus told me that a suitcase full of clothes and a messenger bag where gone as well, possibly a few other things following suit. Sighing despite not being physically able, I went to grab the tuque.

It must have weighed half a ton.

Well, not really, but I couldn't lift it. Grabbing it with a hoof produced that strange glow (magic, I supposed) and a load of resistance, and attempting to grab it with my teeth just resulted in a hurt face. I was usually by no means a strong man, but this was just ridiculous.

Silently grumbling over yet another defeat, I crawled up over the seat and into the back, surveying what I had. I was missing the aforementioned messenger bag, and with it a tablet and a large chunk of books that would probably have been of no use anyways, plus a suitcase with possibly useless pills and changes of definitely useless clothes.

I did, however, have two guitars in cases, an amp, the power inverter, the bus itself and a pair of headphones attached to a Musical Programme Type-3 player (Which it seemed the charger was still in the dash.) All of which I couldn't even move. Continuing my mute mumbling, I turned in the confined space.

What I saw wasn't supposed to be there.

I had retired the black bag ages ago, face worn with the many years of service and decorated with pins from numerous shows, carefully leaving the large emblem on it's face un-obscured. A triangular prism, stabbed through with white from the left, exploding into the spectrum of a rainbow on the right, a white corona like ring encircling the design. It sat, flap half askew, showing a black book spine within, a familiar emblem, just shades lighter then the book itself, upon it.

A shout interrupted my inspection of the out of place bag. "Hey, Stormy! Ain't this the Wonderbolt’s Emblem?"

Thorn had spotted my jacket, the patch in question sewn onto the left shoulder, one of the more subtle signs of what my interests where. The pegasus hauled the green pony out of her way before pulling herself half ways onto the drivers seat to get a look at the symbol.

There was a moment of silence as she inspected the jacket. The whole thing, sans the patches, was a sturdy cotton canvas and had a faux military cut to it, large brass snaps on the passant, pockets and sleeves (I knew there where straps inside to hold the sleeves up if they where rolled) and a large brass eyelet in each lapel.

Looking thoughtful, Stormwall tugged the jacket towards herself. I bit down on  a corner of it. Like hell I was going to let her mess with my stu-

She tugged me and the article of clothing out of the bus with no effort. From the lack of strain on the fabric, it was clear that I weighed practically nothing. Great.

With an unheard harrumph, I let go of the fabric (it weighed a thousand or so pounds to me, so I didn’t have much of a choice) and let her go over it.

Besides the Wonderbolts patch, there was a metal badge, a large red star with golden laurels wrapped under it, two very familiar crossed implements emblazoned in gold across the star, a tiny pair of swords crossed under a shield pinned beneath it. Both lapels had a pin – the right side was a shield, blue bordered with gold and white, the same red star shimmering in the morning light from it’s center, Russian looping about the inner circle's edge - a military award. The left lapel just had a simple round pin reading 'OMY<3' in bold letters. All of those had been gifts from various friends.

The last patch however, had taken a bit of asking about to get for myself. Stormwall looked a touch shocked as she flipped the jacket over, the patch sitting centered where my shoulder blades would have sit, if I was still human.

"Is that..?" She glanced at me with an odd look on her face before looking back down at the patch. A familiar griffon, wings half spread - Gilda. Wait, I was in Equestria. I should find her and get an autograph or something. After dealing with, you know, all this.

I snapped back to reality.

There was silence for a while, setting me on edge. Thorn looked as confused as I was at why this was so fascinating to the blue pegasus. Finally she looked up, shaking her head. "Heh. Reminds me a particular collection of quills I went to flight camp with back in the day," She smirked, wings spreading. "Avoided me for some reason."

She went back to inspecting the jacket, Thorn joining her, glancing over the badges and construction with curiosity. I in turn took a better look at her and her companion.

Stormwall was, in fact, actually huge If me and Thorn where anything to judge by - It wasn't that she had been looking down at me or hovering. Her muzzle was past the top of my head, and she was toned - Not a wall of muscle, but sleek and primed for flying, looking more like a predator then a pony, the amber eyes not helping in that regard. Her mane was medium length, shaggy cut, and charcoal in colour, having a tendency to fall over one eye when she looked down. Her cutie mark (oh how I thanked the gods they where both distracted - all I needed was one or the other to think I was checking them out.) was a stylized golden rising phoenix - you know the likes, wings raised up either side of the head, the entire thing within  a circle. Unlike Thorn, she had hefty looking steel horseshoes capping off her hooves.

Thorn was a bit shorter then I was, and almost as scrawny. The green earth pony had a mane and tail like a buzzsaw, brown and making him aggressive looking. His eyes told the truth though - the grey spheres looked as hard as the clouds, which going by Stormwall was where his head was. He, unlike the pegasus, carried saddlebags. His cutie mark was...

Covered by scars. I couldn't make it out, four long scars going through the image, any colours lost to me. I suddenly began noticing all the other scars along his body, most of them small. His face seemed untouched, and he seemed to smile a lot.

That smile was directed at me once more as he looked up from the clothing. "Wonder how you got that. Seem to have a lot of stuff you can't really use."

Observant. I let a half grin come to my own muzzle. I raised a cloud-forged hoof.

He regarded it for a moment. Stormwall looked up, then narrowed her eyes. "You'd better not be-"

Her comment was cut short as Thorn reached over, touched my hoof and the world flipped before my eyes.

Dustbowl

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..?'

Legendary Themes

The Scrap yard was boring. Mind numbingly, beat your head into the wall boring.

Stormwall just lazed about the place, sprawling out on pillows, tables, the counter, just about any flat surface she could find, seemingly more and more cat-like as the moments passed; she even seemed to melt into a pegasus-shaped puddle of goo in the heat, much like most cats I had seen tended to.

Thorn on the other hand, decided to read. This would have possibly been interesting if it wasn't for the fact that I could not, for the life of me, read it and our minds weren't mingling enough for me to just listen to him reading to himself.

Further compounded by the fact I was still on a fucking guided tour.

The worst part had been the washroom break. I never wanted to have someone else use the facilities for me ever, ever again.

In any case, I was staring at the words on the page uncomprehendingly as Thorns eyes ran over them. We had made an attempt at teaching me some of the language, but between the two of us, no progress was made. Memories of being terrible at languages as a whole filled my mind, and quite possibly helped cement that outcome.

After the initial tour, it had more or less come down to "It is boiling outside, lets laze about the place" and the time spent had turned into a mindless blur, painfully dull.

Also, did I mention the temperature was stupid? All of the heat much, much more uncomfortable than anything back on earth (counting the canyon), and Thorn was wearing a fur coat. The least roasting parts of him were the numerous scars tracing over his rear half, the jagged interruptions in the fuzzy heat container helping manage the deserts blistering day.

Apparently my grumbling was getting to him.

'I'm beginning to think that I should let her punch me again.'

I scowled at his mental self, my half of the dreamscape clashing with his for a second, jagged colours gnashing teeth as I grumbled a less then understandable retort, then sighed, black hooves to my face. They smelt like licorice, ozone and metal. 'I'm beginning to wonder if that'd be easier...'

He chuckled outwardly, though I wasn't sure if it was from me or the book he was reading.

I pressed on. 'I'm stuck here, I can't do anything, this is just stupid...'

'I know dude. This is the millionth time you've whined about it though,' He frowned, glancing over at Stormwall. 'As much as she'd hate it, I'd let you run the show a- ' The rest of his words faded into the background as my mind snapped front and center.

Stormwall was facing a window, sprawled across a trio of pillows, blue fur glimmering in the sun. The air was dusty, but otherwise clear, my eyes picking out the specs as they floated in-front of my face. My ear twitched as something rattled off in the distance. I blinked.

Once again, I was in control.

Trying to act calm, be stealthy and avoid a repeat of the last time, I got to our hooves slowly. Thorn was strangely muted as I trotted across the floor, opened the door with a hoof and merrily clip-clopped down the stairs.

I could move! I felt like singing, dancing, jumping up and down. I probably could do all of those things; as I had figured earlier, my motor control was near perfect, though I stumbled once or twice from misjudging how long his legs where. That didn't matter as I finally could damn well take a look at things!

I took to the kitchen, head swinging about like it was on a swivel.

The massive wood-burner stove dominated the one side, the oven large enough to prepare meals for a large family, white ceramic finish chipped and worn. It was topped with a griddle affixed between the two banks of cast plates, and the slightly banged up back-splash. From the looks of things it was something they had salvaged, and glancing about, it seemed that was the case throughout.

The cupboards looked like they'd been taken from a ships galley, hinging at the top and spring-loaded with good latches. The counter was actually a few ceramic shelves from other stoves (Some even had logos on the front face) and the sink looked vaguely like a boiler that had been cut in half: there where signs of other connections having been patched over on the sidewalls.

The fridge was a pedestrian affair, old, bulky and steel faced, rust popping up along the bottom seam, blistering the white paint. Overhead a duo of light-bulbs spread light into the far corners.

What really caught the eye was the wooden table - while it looked plain on a first glance, a closer look found myself looking at a sign for a pub; from the size of it, a very prosperous one.

I was impressed. It was a form of recycling I'd have loved to have seen more of on Earth. I recalled the amount of waste created, and how much of that waste could have actually been usable.

'I take it you like it?'

Thorns voice in my head almost made me jump right out of his skin. His existence had slipped my mind, and I fumbled my thoughts for a moment before recovering and replying. 'Yeah. The way all of this is reused is just... Amazing.'

He internally grinned, silently letting me wander about their home, letting myself into the garage portion. I wandered along the rows of wagons, inspecting small trinkets here and there - A buckle, a bag, a set of square framed sun-glasses (far to small to actually cover anyponies eyes I noticed - Must be for show or something.) I found myself standing over some instruments. Most of them where brass - Dull trumpets, a patina'd tuba, the age showing on the worn metal. There was a ragged looking tom drum, a snare missing  a large bit of itself, and what looked like a cracked crash cymbal.

Never the less, a broken case in the corner caught my eye.

It was simple. Normal even, just a black case, much like the other two in my Bus. A large crack ran through the black finish of the wood (uncovered wood, I noticed with some interest,) and ran to the steel grey hardware. Frowning, I reached out to open the case.

'Don't bother - It's jammed shut.' I tried anyways - It was.

I lowered our hoof, disappointed, slowly looking over the other objects of interest - grey vinyl on a case for an upright bass, fake snakeskin over what seemed to be a coffin case. This led into amplifiers.

I spied the normal heavy set toggles and jeweled indicators, the input looked similar, and it had a good set of controls. Inside the few cabinets; Ten inch drivers, a monster bass driver, the speaker cone wide and black as night backed by a thick magnet, some word spun across a red hourglass, the black monolith of a cabinet hosing it lacking any branding of its own. Frowning in thought, I pulled an amp forwards. Tubes gleamed back, glass bulbs reflecting the light.

It felt not so much different from Earth right now - looking through an old storage lot, scavenging anything and everything, making something wonderful of it, examining each and every lost treasure - The amps made me feel like a little bit of sanity had crept here with me as familiar designs and parallels sprung up, and the records and other small trinkets of everyday life helped it along.

There where still differences of course, but that wasn't as important as staying calm, something that was difficult given the current situation, and a fight I felt I was slowly losing - like a man drowning, I could only keep my head up for so long.

I wandered my way through the area, seeing what else was in store - There where in-fact, six cannons hiding behind the one wagon, the steel barrels oiled and looking like they where maintained. Behind them where a few other weapons, mostly spears, a few swords, all sticking out of a barrel. Grinning to myself, I keep looking.

That's when I found another mirror.

I stood there, looking over my-our-self. The first thing that stuck me was the loss of colour - Just the barest tint of green caught the light. The second was that it looked like our hooves had been dipped in ink, the furthest extremities perfectly black, moving up to the greenish grey of our core and head. His mane took on a much more wild look with me at the helm - apparently quite a few of my features carried over, and his hair seemed more curly then jagged.

Then I looked at our eyes. All feeling of loss of colour scattered like dust in the wind. They may have been slightly cold looking, the draconic slits peering back at me, but a brilliant mix of green and coppery orange  dominated our face.

So, I did what any reasonable person would do - I posed in front of the mirror and acted like a total knob to distract myself.

'What are you doing?' Thorn was blinking as I reared up, trying my hardest (and utterly failing) to look dramatically awesome. I almost fell over in shock as I, once again, had forgotten I had a passenger.

"Gah!" I wish I could say that it was a manly exclamation. Pretending that it had never happened, I continued. "I've, ah, never really seen myself like this," The specter of an earth pony raised an eyebrow. "... I'm not allowed to have fun?"

'You're friggin' crazy.'

I smirked, hiding behind a mask of humor. "Crazy like a coconut."

For some reason, he neglected to respond.

Not five minutes later had me back in my bus. Without even thinking I manipulated the front door open, grabbed the keys in hoof and unlocked and rolled open the sliding door.

Wait a minute.

I blinked, looking down at my-our-Thorns hooves. Flat (If a bit ragged,) unshod, fetlocks a bit untamed, standard, everyday hooves. I picked up the keys. A soft blue glow grasped them, and my immediate response was the manliest yelp, promptly dropping them with a clatter, despite having dealt with this phenomenon at least, what twice already?

Thorn chuckled, earning him yet another grimace from my alien face. Life was sending me nothing but more questions and curve balls it seemed.

Deciding against attempting to reason with the world, I turned to the interior. The blue amp stood on the back wall, ready to go, the inverter hard wired into the bus as it stood. The plain black case beckoned to me. I gently propped the case up against the back seat, and, like one would carefully unwrap a gift from the gods, pulled the brass latches open. With anxious hooves I pulled the guitar free of it's prison.

The old archtop caught the sun, tobacco burst top kept in good repair, the ebony fretboard a glistening dark bar, broken only by the polished nickel frets and plain circle markers. Chrome hardware, the antique vibrato tailpiece, and a red pick-guard caught the eye on the well aged body, and a simple word stood upon it's blackened headstock - EKO.

I gently checked the tunings, that magical blur manipulating as well as fingers would, holding the strings down as I checked. New world or not, the guitar was holding fine, and each note rang out out of the carved f-holes pure and mellow as it ever did. That was fine, because unlike the guitar, my tuning was slipping.

I could feel Thorns mind, feel the ragged edge where our selves met, where mine had pushed his out. I was in a new world. I was fighting to remain calm, grasping onto anything and everything that seemed even somewhat familiar as an anchor, and so found myself back in my familiar Bus, holding the family relic that was that old Archtop in unfamiliar hooves, staring out at the world with eyes that seemed even colder then before.

Like an over tightened string, I was sharp and about to snap.

With hasty, almost clumsy motions, I plugged the guitar in, turned the amp on, Tubes humming to life as I found myself pushing the volume to the upper limits of it's settings - and then I played.

Blue magic wrapped over steel and bronze strings, the zebra of a winding screaming to the magnetic pickups even as the carved scroll of the f-holes poured forth noise, the old coils translating each and every gentle, almost hesitant, motion into sound, a veritable wall of emotion filled playing blocking out all else as It sang out to my soul and I replied with the next motion, the next verse and bar.

Gentle arpeggiations, the flowing rhythm of chords being torn apart and rearranged, gave way to the almost painfully sorrowful lead, the natural emptiness of the space around us seeming to swallow the sound even as it fought to fill it. I dug into the strings, enticing a light growl as the music built up; notes ringing and dying for the sake of music, leaving their mark on the world before being replaced by another.

There was motion.

Ignoring it, I washed into the lead, the old archtop crying out as we sang to the world, letting all the stress escape, letting everything just go.

For a moment, nothing hurt.

For a moment, the notes held, sang true.

For a beautiful moment, everything was right.

Then it returned to the beginning, the slow, soft arpeggiations of dieing chords. I softly led the music down to rest, and twisted the volume and power off with a blue-shrouded hoof before gently returning the guitar to rest itself, the case closing with barely a protest heard to my ringing ears.

I inhaled a breath I didn't know I had yet to take and just as quickly let it out before staggering back onto all four hooves (I had taken a seat to play, it seemed) and stumbling to the Buses open side door.

I stood there, on the threshold of my world and the vast, mostly unknown Equestria and stared towards the sun.

'What was that song?'

Thorns mind was a wash of colours, his inflection implying that he was impressed.

My reply was simple as I let myself pretend to be relaxed. "Something Legendary."

I stepped out of the Bus and back into Equestria.

A chapter wherein nothing happens.

Have you ever had one of those moments that seems to go on for months? Like eternity itself was dragging on and on? Yeah?

Because that's exactly what stepping out of the bus was like. Slow motion until I hit the ground.

I say it like that because a cobalt missile sent me and Thorn flying the minute we went to lay hoof outside. Stormwall towered over us as time sped up, the dust devils I had watched form from her sudden descent dissipating quickly in the blistering air.

"Who said ya could run around, hmm?"

I wasn't much hurt by the impact. Nor was she crushing me, or threatening to impale me, or stomping me out of Thorns body with brute force. She was just there, a slight frown on her face as she looked over us. "Wandering about like you own the place isn't exactly the best idea dude."

"I didn't realize I'd get knocked on my ass for wandering about, sorry," I tried to pick myself up, relying on Thorns brain to have the motions down even as the earth pony mentally rolled his eyes at Stormwall.

Stormwall snorted. "Not everyday someones runnin' about in my favorite gluesticks body. Special rules 'n all that."

Well. At least she was funny, or trying to be. "Well, truth be told, I think we should figure out a way to deal with that..." I petered off, frowning pensively. Well, I knew who might be able to help for sure, but that'd require finding her. Add to the fact who she was and that she was supposed to be dead, well... not a simple task.

"Good luck with that."

I glared at the massive pegasus as we moved into the shade, Thorn speaking up. 'I don't think she trusts you."

"You figure?" I swore the moment Stormwall furrowed her brow at me. "I said that out loud, didn't I?" Before she even replied, I had my face covered by Thorns hooves. "This is the most impossible fucking thing, I swear..."

"Dude, you'd better friggin' calm down before I buck some calm inta ya."

I pulled the hooves over my face, sighing. "Tempting," I wandered back to the black guitar case, fiddling with the locking mechanisms even as Stormwall sprawled out over a cannon. "How is it that you're so calm about this anyways?" I glanced over at her as I said this, the faint glow of magic manipulating the steel locks. Odd feeling, that, almost like a phantom of fingers lost.

"My last line of work saw weirder things, and this line of work ain't much better," The massive pegasus somehow rolled atop the cannon, looking at me upside down, amber eyes studying me and Thorns face. "Why are ya so calm yerself?"

I paused, frowning. That was a good question, actually. I could feel the barest start of panic bubbling up at the edges of my thoughts, but there was something else there, icy and unfeeling and it was clamping down on the feeling. Actually, I could practically see it, in that vague, mindscape sort of way, a deep indigo wall blocking off a portion of the landscape as Thorn whistled, apparently seeing it himself. I found myself blinking to try and regain a sense of reality. "Whatever changed me is mucking about with my head too."

Silence met that, gold eyes looking over me intensely. Stormwall slowly raised an eyebrow, every part of her 'relaxed' lounging subtly becoming anything but. Apparently nervousness was still a very viable reaction, because god-damn I was not liking that look in her eyes. Thorn was mentally fidgeting, that vague sensation distracting me for a moment. Turns out a moment was all it took for a cobalt pegasus to be in my face.

Que a stumbling step backwards, and cowering behind the guitar case. An exasperated sigh escaped Stormwall. "That ain't gonna save ya if I try and hit ya ghosty," She shoved the case to the side with a clatter, prodding at me with a hoof. "Now, what exactly do ya mean?"

"There's a wall there, and it's stopping me from completely losing it," Stormwall raised an eyebrow again. "No, really, the-" I was cut off by a hoof.

"I believe ya, now shut up. It's an old military spell If I'm guessing right," She snorted, a wing grabbing my head and twisting it this way and that, Thorn protesting to me the whole way. "Hard to see if it's gonna make your head explode when I'm not even sure how you work..." My jaw dropped as she let go of my head, peering into my left eye while humming. "Yeah, dunno."

She turned to leave, flicking her steely tail behind her, suddenly calm again. "We'll give you a lift where-ever you need tomorrow I guess. This section's been kinda bare for the last while, closer to the mountains should be better."

I guess she wanted to be rid of me as fast as possible then. I was fine with that, I supposed.

Internally, my host blinked. 'I take it back,' I shot him a puzzled glance. 'I think she likes you.'

Man, this pony was like a faulty rotary switch with no labels and a loose grip on the panel - When you turned it, it'd spin, so the spot you hit might not be the same next time. 'If this is her liking me, I don't wanna see hate.'

Thorn snickered.

For some reason the guitar case wouldn't get out of my mind. I found myself fiddling with the lock absent-mindedly as Thorn grumbled. 'It's not gonna open dude.'

'Says you,' he snorted as I tried prying the latch open again - there was no actual lock, I had found, just a simple drawbolt latch. A little bit of rattling even showed that the loop part of the latch wasn't even tight. That said, I was not having any luck opening the thing.

'Stormwall couldn't get it open. I thought she was gonna blow it to pieces.'

Well then. I fiddled at it again, blue magic running over the case. Hell of high water, I was gonna open this thing then. I rattled at the latch, staring at the ceiling in the low light of the evening. Right back to boring, it seemed.

Stormwall was upstairs, sleeping if the trend was to be believed. I was really wondering if the massive pony wasn't part cat or something, between her sneaking skills, tendency to pounce upon ponies and the napping it was really beginning to look like she was just a puma in equine clothing.

Apparently I was thinking out loud, because  Thorn piped up. 'I've thought of that before. Don't ever say it out loud, she'll give ya an earful.'

"Heh, well, I'll be sure not to say anything then."

We had another break in our conversation, Thorn just seeming to phase into the background. It was really odd, talking to someone in your head. It didn't help that it seemed like my head auto muted him on occasion, then let him ramble for minutes at a stretch about nothing. Apparently the same magic that was letting me control his body was putting his mind under at times and making him overall not as panicky as he normally should be. Pretty powerful magic, I supposed.

Also of interest to me was how Stormwall seemed content to let me wander about in Thorns body. It seemed like her best move would be to knock me out and shove me in a chest or something, gods knew I didn't need to breathe right now. Hell, I could use the time to figure out what was going on with my body.

I rattled at the lock again, my host coming around shortly afterwards to ask me why I hadn't given up yet. This was pretty much the pattern for the next while as I waited to get tired enough to fall asleep.

A set of hooves clacking against the floor suddenly caught my ears. Aww hell no. "Hey, Thorn, I was wonderin' if you two foud-"

I stared up at the pony who had just walked in, my two-toned eyes blinking at him from a distance of about two feet away as his jaw went slack. His eyes widened and his face contorted into an expression I could only translate into an 'OH GOD WHAT THE HELL IS THAT' before he took off out the front door faster then I could think to stop him. A clattering of metal told me he had run right into the stack of fire pails near the gate, and the slamming of said portal was enough to make me wince.

I sat there for a few moments, hoof still on the Guitar case before Thorn spoke up. 'Frig.'

I couldn't agree more as I surged to our hooves, clattering up the stairwell, bursting into the upper living space with enough grace to make Stormwall jerk her head up.

"I think I need to go. Now."

Stormwall looked at me quizzically. "Why?"

"Someone just came in and saw me."

The room was silent for a moment, before the pegasus laughed, a short barking thing. Both me and Thorn just stood there blinking, jaw slightly slack. 'I think you broke her.' I ignored Thorns comment, choosing instead to stare at the massive pegasus as she went right back to lounging.

"This is serious," I growled it out, stomping a hoof down.

She waved a hoof, snorting. "Not really. It's right after Nightmare Night ghosty, ain't no-one gonna believe any cracked out stories."

"Isn't Nightmare Night about an evil, slit-eyed pony with a ghostly mane that eats ponies?" I asked, eyebrow raised.

Stormwall rolled her eyes. "Yes, because every gluestick in the place is gonna show up the night after with pitchforks and torches because some idiot says he saw Queen Meanie herself," she snorted, lounging on the table. "He's gonna go ta the pub, get laughed at and drink himself to sleep," I opened my muzzle to retort, only for her to hold up her hoof. "Look, I know you're all certain there's gonna be a witch hunt for ya, but we'll be fine. We set out tomorrow, get some rest."