i.e. Twilight Gets Displaced
Twilight Sparkle looked over the merchant’s wares again. Their cloak had certainly held a lot of costumes. A suspicious amount really. Yet she couldn’t deny the quality of the stitching on most of them.
“Now, normally I wouldn’t do business with a pony named Shady Merchant,” Twilight said.
“Of course,” Shady Merchant said.
“Especially since your cutie mark is a black set of scales,” Twilight added.
Shady Merchant nodded.
“It’s just, my Starswirl costume was hit by a lightning bolt, and I really need a replacement in time for the convention.”
Shady Merchant nodded again.
“And there are numerous Equestrian laws covering fraudulent advertising, as I'm sure you're aware.”
“So, will that be cash or credit?” Shady Merchant asked.
Twilight picked up the Starswirl costume. The packaging looked nice: clean, heat-pressed plastic covered the entire ensemble, clear enough to show off the stitching and gluing on the costume pieces. The cardboard topper clearly said “Un-cursed Starswirl the Bearded Costume.” A sticker on the corner proclaimed “100% Curse-Free!”
“Credit.” Twilight pulled out her card. “And I would like a receipt.”
–
Twilight blearily opened her eyes. The last thing she remembered was walking through the doors of the Canterlot Ramada Inn. She had seen the Canterlot Historical Revisionists Convention before her very eyes. Booths and cosplayers and tacky merchants had littered the entire floor. She could smell the sweat of the convention-goers, hear their enticing chatter about the exact date of the Battle of the Breech. She had been clutching her ticket expectantly, eager to politely debate with them about the particulars of the hill (everypony who was anypony knew it took place on Horseweigh Hill five yards south of Buckenridge) and the type of grass (crabgrass) and the color of General Ineffectual Adjutant’s coat (light mauve with grease stains).
She stood up. She saw no Canterlot Historical Revisionists Convention. She saw no Canterlot Ramada Inn. She didn’t even see a single forged document, for Celestia’s sake!
She saw plenty of buildings. Blocky concrete skyscrapers clogged the skyline. They looked like the ones in Manehattan, though taller and packed more densely together. A throng of hairless primates wearing drab clothes flooded the sidewalks. The smell of gasoline and exhaust permeated her nostrils.
Twilight rubbed her chin. Another one of those magical anomalies, she thought. On the one hoof, she was mildly annoyed, because she had already dealt with that shrinking mishap on Tuesday. Normally these interruptions had the decency to limit themselves to once-weekly affairs. On the other hoof, she felt a sudden upwelling of curiosity and concern that a beard had sprouted from her chin.
She magically summoned a mirror. Her suspicions confirmed themselves. Her costume had stopped being a costume. Her coat had shifted colors, the fabric looked more genuine, the bells tinkled more softly. The beard bristled, her mustache bristled, even her eyebrows bristled.
So not only had she been multiversally displaced, her costume had grafted itself to her body (or had it replaced her body?) and transformed her into Starswirl the Bearded.
She sighed. If only this had happened tomorrow. Now she might miss the Canterlot Historical Revisionists Convention. And after all the money she had spent on this costume and the tickets and the transportation and that hotel room!
She sighed again. Since she was here, she could at least take a look around. She descended the grassy hill she had landed on, and made her way to the gate. The grass looked Equestrian enough, at least.
She stepped onto the sidewalk. A thick block of cars filled the street, stretching as far as she could see. A thick block of people filled the sidewalk, but at least the people moved at a reasonable pace.
She turned to one of the pedestrians. “Excuse me, miss, could you tell me where I am?” Her voice came out thick and gravelly, with a hint of wisdom and world-weariness to it. Sounded like Starswirl, all right.
The woman didn’t slow her stride. “Fuck off, ya weirdo. I ain’t got time fer perfawm’nce aht this early in the mawnin’.”
Twilight set her jaw. Surely such rudeness was an anomaly.
She hailed another passerby. “Git ohffa me, ya qwea'! Keep it in ya pants or in tha theatuh.” His response refuted her rudeness hypothesis.
The third and fourth pedestrians continued the pattern.
“Hmm...” Twilight rubbed her chin again. It felt awkward. She shifted her pose and stroked her beard. It sort of worked, but it still felt off.
Still lost in thought, sitting forlornly at the park entrance, she dimly noticed the chicken approach her.
She turned to the chicken. It towered over her, over most of the primates in the crowd. She leaned in. The feathers looked vaguely like fabric. She squinted at the beak, and it looked vaguely like rubber. A costume then, she noted. So normal costumes existed in this universe. It meant she had grounds for a refund, at least.
“What’s the deal, ya twat? Youse tryin’ ta muscle in on my territ’ry? This is prime buskin’ space and I’m sick of ya perfawm’nce aht qwea's takin’ up all the sidewahk!”
The chicken-suited primate continued posturing and whining and clucking. Twilight gradually tuned him out.
This is unthinkable! Everyone is either ignoring me or is actively hostile! Can’t they see I’m a special snowflake? They should all be rushing to admire and help me!
Twilight mulled over her situation. The chicken’s profanity-laden speech continued in the background, but she quickly realized something. If she had become Starswirl the Bearded, then she must have all his powers. Why, she could simply invent a spell and return to Equestria without issue! Clearly, staying in this city full of rude primates was pointless, if they weren’t going to pay any positive attention to her.
She brought a teleportation spell to mind. Perhaps if she adjusted the translocation component and replaced it with a higher wattage of magic, that would help create a transdimensional variant instead.
Twilight charged her horn. She felt magic crackle through her body, much stronger than usual. Being Starswirl felt incredible.
The spell fired, and she felt the world warp and crunch and sizzle as the globe of magic engulfed her.
The chicken waved his wing dismissively. “Yeah, that’s what I thawt! Take ya pyratechnic bullshit 'n' get owda hea’!”
—
Twilight stared at the grassy knoll. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. She silently thanked Celestia for the lack of a beard. “I don’t understand, Shady Merchant had a booth set up right here!”
The royal guards glanced around. “Are you sure?”
“Oh, that’s right,” Twilight pointed towards the crest of the hill. “It was one grassy knoll over.”
Twilight and the guards crested the hill, and the booth slowly came into view. Sure enough, a pony with a black cloak and a set of scales for a cutie mark sat behind it. They appeared to be playing with a Game Filly, oblivious to the presence of Twilight and the guards. The Game Filly appeared to be the expensive preorder model, and the cartridge sticking out of it appeared to be the Legend of Gelda: Marejora’s Mask port.
Shady Merchant looked up as they approached. They dropped the Game Filly in shock.
“You're the one who bought the cursed Starswirl costume! Ponies never return after buying a cursed costume! They always get bogged down in romantic escapades, wish-fulfillment, and ennui! How did you ever escape my awkward curse?”
The guards cuffed the merchant.
Twilight smiled. “As if I would ever let anything stop me from visiting the Canterlot Historical Revisionists Convention! And as if I would ever let a pony get away with false advertising! And as if I would ever get caught up in my own ego and the thrill of being Starswirl the Bearded, drunk with fangirlish fantasy and immeasurable power!” Twilight waved a hoof. “Take them away, sir and madam.”
Shady Merchant struggled ineffectually. “Wait! At least let me take my Game Filly to prison! I’m on the bonus dungeon! And I have 98% heart piece completion!”
“That’s what you get, you charlatan!”
The guards dragged the shady merchant off to the chariot. Twilight turned to the booth. There were several boxes stacked underneath it, and some cardboard headers could be seen poking out here and there.
Twilight whistled casually, and the boxes popped away.
“Are you coming, Miss Twilight?” the guards called.
“Of course! I’m certainly not teleporting any illicit goods into the library basement so I can look them over for later!” Twilight shouted.
“Okay,” the guards replied.
She trotted off. Maybe there’s a Clover the Clever costume in there. Or maybe even one of Princess Celestia from her Smiting Era! Though I hope they don’t all displace me to that smelly, rude, primate city... Maybe if there was some way to wind up in Equestria? That would be the best.
Twilight whistled jauntily the whole ride home.
