Chapter 1: Paying Attention, Not For Hours
A Liar, A Cheat: Exploiting An Arrival
By Governor BOA
Note: MLP:FIM is owned by Hasbro
Chapter 1: Paying Attention, Not For Hours
For someone who was never born with much musical skill and had only a passable voice, to have improved as well as I did was no easy feat. I had a couple hundred fans who had been able to help me live as a musician and song producer for myself. Through the internet and it's patronage sites, I owed my entire full career to it.
The day was the 10th of March and the year was 2018, I had been making a couple of remixes to several different artists. The songs were to be the music to hold over until I was able to have my microphone repaired: maybe even get a new one if I brought in enough.
Everything had been done on a laptop I paid for with the inheritance money my grandparents had left, a laptop and several hard drives. The only other thing I could have bought after was a decent quality flight case, of which I spent an extra few months saving up for to add any further reinforcement to. The OS I was using had been a variant of Linux and only due to the fact it had been faster than anything Microsoft was providing and didn't tie me down like Apple would have.
All the software I used would have been too much for most to understand, but for me it was for the comfort of knowing I had something somewhere what might work for a song, remix or equipment test.
The album I had planned did have some of my own songs on it, granted I could not include vocals, but it only meant I had to put more time into working on better instrumentals. For someone who tried to go big or starve in the process, it had led to a near ten minute piece in which I had tried to make a classical inspired rock instrument piece. Let it be known I had made five versions of this and each had so far not been what I envisioned.
Now was the day I had made it seven minutes through my piece and found nothing which I hated in it; it was also the day in which I would be playing a small local gig in my neighbourhood pub. I had agreed to DJ at the place after the last person pulled out and because my family had finally bought the building and not just owned the license. I was also getting a couple hundred and free drinks for the remainder of that week, there would be no complaints with me: a pint is a pint and money can be hard to come by.
The day went well, around two in the morning we were finally able to power down and say our farewells. My mom and the second person I had called my stepdad both recommended that I stay in one of the spare rooms above the pub, this was around three and I may have had more to drink than I kept track of. I lived a few streets, a main road and a few streets more away, for sober me it would take fifteen...at most twenty minutes to get home.
I objected and had myself, with the flight case, wandering down the roads I had so many times been down. The local councils were never that good with maintaining the street lights so I saw some going an orange-red colour so common with their deaths, and occasionally I passed under some which maintained their warmer brighter colour.
I was enjoying the peaceful stroll through a residential housing block three streets from my house. It was relatively peaceful and offered time to reflect on my life, something alcohol commo--
Two twig thin addicts from number eight, of course they were out at this time. Of course they would be right on my side of the road and heading towards me. And of course one would gesture me to stop. The two must have been on a hybrid drug since the last time I saw them, how their faces looked now gave the Fallout ghoul race a run for it's money as disturbing.
"Hassan, Matt, everything alright?"
The first of the men, the Pakistani looking Hassan, didn't share my merry tone, instead coming as more threatening, "Look! We need whatever is in that case of yours and we need it now!"
"You want a laptop that has a part value of twenty quid at best, and a case that is actually obsolete."
"Nice try, we need that case and now," came the midlands sounding Matt, with a more naturally threatening voice.
I then continued my bluff, but this time more reasoned, "Some idiot smashed it with a pool cue, and the same idiot spilled my pint on it, I'd be lucky to get anything off that thing. You really think I would walk around with something worth a tonne, at this time of night, unless it was trashed.
"Now if you don't mind, I have to worry about how I'll pay my bills, especially with my job gone in a trashed computer."
I tried to leave and cross the street, but no. And this time they looked to get physical. So, being the one who had to get the first blow, I swung the case at Matt's head. Whatever I had done gave me the time to run off. Before turning onto another street I did look back. Hassan had ran off and Matt was in the street and bleeding from his head. I checked around, houses were quiet and no cameras lined the streets. Rub off the case, the corner held nothing that could be seen.
With that I bolted off with more awareness than what some had sober. I only slowed down on my own street when I stopped to rest against a tree on the side of the road. I think everything had finally hit me as I blacked out. I was five doors from my house and I blacked out, clutching my case and it's precious contents with all of my might.
I did come around, as expected it was no longer night or the evening. It seemed to be midmorning or late lunch. My head was being strangled of cognition from whatever I had put into myself that night before. I must have had alcohol injected into my brain and my H2O in my blood swapped with it also. Nothing to blame for me blacking out, from how it felt, I could have done something to my liver and it would make absolute sense.
I was in some bed, it was not a hospital, that was clear. Hospital beds have a certain unique feel that you only understand if you've had to sleep in one. I also deduced it was not a cell as the feel did not fit from what I understood cells provided. Oh great. I now owed a neighbour a favour again, should have just sta...
The laptop! My head was given more pressure to it as I shot up to see if it was near. It was, it was just by the door in the casing. The room I was in, now I understood something else, it looked like a typical hotel room. Typical in the sense it was a slightly more expensive typical room. It had the bland decor, the view into what musthave been a kitchen, living and dining room hybrid. It also looked as though the door had been left open as for someone to che...
Hold on.
My town has no hotels, my town borders a hell that everyone tries to flee from. The only things around are in the nearest cities. How...
I must have forgotten everything and gone on a deep night party spree, headed into a nearby city and got a hotel with someone. Maybe I was so drunk I actually got the confidence or ignorance to be able to talk someone into a one-night stand in a hotel room. The only thing that made it worse was thinking, how much has this cut into my bank account, how much saving will I have to do now.
I'll wait until this hangover ends before I try anything, and I slid myself under the two pillows the bed came with. The last thing I thought, which I soon brushed off was, did I at least leave my clothes at the side of the bed.
Sound awoke me this time, but my eyes had been put under orders to not cause me any more suffering until my brain said it was alright to open. The noise I heard was a question from someone who held a voice so British that I felt as though I was a foreigner.
"How do you feel?"
"If you came in earlier and asked that, I'd say that case, several times around the head. Then the case twice to my stomach and liver. Take two hits away and from each and you have my answer."
"You don't sound like you come from around here, am I right?"
"Depends on how far I've gone. I shouldn't be more than a couple train stops away, unless I really did go far last night."
"You have no idea of where you are?" the concerned voice asked.
"It would be the second time this happened in the past few years, last time I blacked out and ended so far North that I had to wait for snow to be cleared from the train tracks to get back. From what it sounds, if I sound odd, I think I've gone further South than I ever have."
I then asked the woman speaking to me, "How much do I need to take out, I'm certain I never had enough to pay for a room here, let alone this room."
"You shouldn't worry about that, my friend covered it for us."
"That's not the point, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for a few mistakes and you're down on money."
"The two of us are rather well off; a cellist and a DJ are not exactly low paying careers around here. If it were about money, it's not exactly like either would lose out in any way."
"Okay, I'll give in if it's not going to do more harm than good. After last night, I am in no condition to argue with you on that."
The upper class woman gave a response as something confirming that it was really no bother.
It was only then that she decided to say, "I will say that you were hard to separate from that case of yours, but I am glad to say you only had marks from how it dug into you."
"What I have in there is exactly why I wouldn't let go, especially given how much I put into it. If you want an idea of how much I spent then my analogy is this, 'it in itself was beyond my reach outside of a decent sized inheritance.' It was worth a decent percentage of my house before the market in my area went up."
That elicited an 'oh' of surprise before I was then told something of the two being asked if I wanted anything. I replied with water and jokingly said something in regards to some tablets for my ever painful hangover. Whilst not paying attention much to what I said, I did catch a small moment of chuckling from one of my current saviours.
I soon awoke again, this time it was in the evening, the sky said it all. An almost completely drunk glass of water laid on the bedside table and an opened pack of what looked like head pain medication. Another welcome surprise was my head was in a resoundingly better state and offered me the opportunity to see without screaming at me.
This room was much nicer than lesser me had considered, there were detailed walls with upper class wallpaper, albeit in a light colour so the earlier sun had offered to hide it from me. I must have been such a fun guest, sleeping the entire day and sleeping through those two friends money. I don't care whether they were fine with this or could afford it, if they got me in somewhere like this they were being too generous.
Now, if I were correct, the time out may be around half six to half seven. The train is normally arriving at half eight. If I leave now I could find the local train to the midlands and still make it home in time to go to the pub and have at least two drinks: maybe I could even record some instrumentals or get the ten minute one over with. At least getting back had to happen, I would no longer be bothering that nice woman and her friend.
Before I did anything, just to make sure my eyes were working, I went to clear any possible obstructions of filth from my eyes. I didn't take the subtle differences in my arms, I'd been wasted before and I always found my limbs wanted to hibernate the alcohol overconsumption, and brushed it off as me still paying for my idiotic episode.
What in all that's holy!
Hooves!
I, Jack Aston, have silver-grey hooves!
Silver-grey hooves where my ha...
My eyes darted for a mirror. The right side of the bed held a dresser with a mirror from which I could see the who other side of the room.
I was a light silver-grey pon...unicorn.
Okay. Don't overreact. You still have your, near-black, brown hair. From how close the mirror actually is, it looks like you're still one of the green eye community: just more clearly a green eye person. Now that sounds like an infection or weird breed.
Okay, still slightly amused myself. That's no different. That's...
I fell back on to the bed as the next thought raced through my head. I blacked out and ended up in the alternate reality where Friendship is Magic is not a show but real life.2016 Jack certainly would be pleased if fandom overexposure was not the equivalent of radiation to the metaphorical flesh body of passions.
...
Then why a Brit--
Octavia.
Cellist and DJ. Octavia and Vinyl Scratch...
They don't know I'm a, correction to was a, human.
So...plan. How do I even survive long enough to get back home?
First thing first, all they know me as, so I know myself, is that I was a drunk pony who knows not of how I came here. Aside from that, I am as normal as any other pony at first glance.
Now back to my question.
If memory serves, they do somewhat contain the mad folk. If memory also serves, as long as I never meet the one 4chan calls hatpone then I may be able to keep this all secret. Also, if memory serves, all I need to do is find a way with magic or a portal back.
Wait...I'm a pony. That means I'm not naturally bipedal...
My entire plan rests on being like a normal pony, yet I am not even sure I can walk easily as a quadruped without digits for balance. I don't think they would buy the cripple angle, given they found me in the streets and without any sign of being one. I also think that 'I forgot how to walk' might not be in my favour. No time like the present to teach yourself the basic thing everyone learns in life if they're born normal.
I left the safe confines of the bed to the side where the mirror was. On all fours I bore witness to something shocking. I soon turned gay for myself, the gods had placed me here but at least gave me a better body than my human one. There was truly a hidden beast under those sheets earlier, one who could be human Jack's daddy any day.
I give myself a month before I begin to look like my actual equivalent again. But for now I see why some cultures would eat me, I'm a multi-course meal and probably hiding des...
Walk now, selfcest horseplay thoughts later.
The first few steps were uncomfortable.
The next few were cautious.
By the time I had arrived at my case it felt normal. Now I understand nature a bit more. Now I understand, in a way I can't explain, how easy walking comes to things at birth. But it sort of made sense in one way I reasoned it, I have a well wired body and decently operating muscles, of course signals would be able to help replicate walking so easily.
Now yes I was a unicorn, yes I had the capability for magic, but that needed to be self-taught. And...how would...magic grip. If...Rainbow...Dash...can hold a cup with a hoof, let's see how well or how long it takes me to understand this grip thing.
I reached out to grab the case. To my moderate surprise, I was able to reach AND grab the handle of it and have a relatively good grip. Now it was not the best, but it was a grip and it was serviceable.
Okay, basic understandings of life are both passes. All I need is a name. I can't use something too human, so my persona Robert is gone, Jack is definitely gone (Unless I can find a way of working it as a nickname), Will could work in some way.
You came up with a musicians alternate name, you sh...
Could Basileus work? Could the Byzantine emperor title work? I get the posh sounding Basil as nickname. If I ever had to enlist I could become this worlds Basil the Bulgar Slayer. Basileus... Come on...you did a Greek course because of your obsession with the...
I argued with my brain for metaphorical hours before I relented, retreated to the mirror and directed my eyes near where I would let myself enter. Life gave me another bout of luck as I had a...cutie mark? Was that was this was called? Anyway, it was like the logo from one of the programmes I used to make music on. It was a mixer and the digital board for the instruments. A general music mark...
Most names hold something similar to the marks. My name is somewhat Greek in origin. Maybe I should...the Greek for music... Mousiki.
My nickname might end as Mao...
Shivers from the dead of that name became my own.
How about Basileus Mousiki? Not all names have a significant part in the first, the last sort of works if the first doesn't with most ponies. Please don't betray me memory.
I took in a breath and announced, to my mind alone, "From henceforth I shall be known as Basileus Mousiki. I am Basileus Mousiki, a twenty-one year old from...somewhere North of here and of where I cannot remember. I will be someone who shall appear a man...stallion who now only seeks to start life with what little he continues to 'remember' from his past. No one will ever know until I can get home."
Chapter 2: Lies For Safety, The Formalities Aside
Note: MLP:FIM is owned by Hasbro
Chapter 2: Lies For Safety, The Formalities Aside
I was Basileus, I was now Basil. Jack passed his mind, to who now was Basileus was in charge of my choices. Basileus would be my method of journeying high to gain the contacts I would need, and to attain the funds I would bring back.
Maybe I should try to fit my role more naturally, test the waters. The waters being the ease of spell cast or lack that I may have. Let's get some basic understanding of who I am and build on from there. As Basil I will have to at least know levitation, I have a laptop and a mouse I will be needing to do work with and hooves may be an adjustment that magic may easily nullify. But what would I use...
The pills. I should try to levitate the pills like I read in a Fanfiction one time. Maybe magic in this universe would be that simple that levitation would work in manor of an authors interpretation.
I trotted over and lay the pills on the centre of the bed.
Now...what was it I read? Visualise a field around it and emit something towards the object to entice the field to operate it where you request. Or something similar to that.
First I focused myself on it. I chose and measured it in my minds eye, visualised a field around it and begun to try to force something through my newly acquired horn. As I did, I noticed something, an aura of a sense. Seeing this aura, I forced further efforts into it. The more I focused the more something begun to happen.
Something sparked. From the small view I had, I could see in the mirror that something had enveloped my horn, a colour similar to that of my...mane? The same soon enveloped the box. With the box enveloped, I soon concentrated some of whatever was happening to lift it to a mid-point between the bed and ceiling. With a bit of concentration this did happen.
I dropped it. Cutting the flow was as simple as cutting concentration to the enveloped object. Didn't foals easily...oh right. Foals could do this with little understanding. It made sense if all you had to do was focus on one thing and funnel the idea through. It also made some sense that, even if it were just a raw magic field, that it was freely cast: as raw magic would be something that would be the easiest aspect of naturally occurring magic to find and warp. I had a way of reaching from A to B I found even confusing to myself but found it was worth it.
I performed the lifting and manoeuvring of the object, then a few larger ones, to ensure I had some grasp of magic before I moved onto a more practical use. I directed my attention to the case where I used the magic to unlock the numerical lock so I could detach the main locks. I spun the flight case locks the opposite ways before I lifted the Fed-Ex delivery safe casing open. Inside was my powerhouse of a laptop, in a thicker shell by personal request. The thing weighed similar to some older laptops but it was mostly for a couple extra add-on ports and the aforementioned tougher exterior. The thing came with a custom made larger mouse, not because I had large hands but because I feared if I ever bulked up that a smaller one would be easily destroyed. The screen was touch, I had brought a pen mostly because screens were a complete and utter annoyance to all who wanted a pristine one. The large case also fitted, into the foam I had in it, three large calibre external drives and a charger with both US and UK plugs: hopefully one worked here.
I used magic to loosen it from the foam. If it took five years with fingers it would take twenty with hooves to get that git out. One corner was all I needed for myself to get a grip to hold and place the thing on the bed. One other sign I held respect for the older laptops had been the fact I had to flip a small latch to raise the screen, which shown no signs of damage. If cases could mate than that case was the top of it's gene pool.
Booting the thing up, I was presented with a lock screen. That was all the proof someone needed to know it was my workstation. I never password protected anything other than my phone.
Come to think of it, I remembered having it left behind the bar and only now remembered that I left it there. Well...the only things on there were several games where I had a rebuilt the Byzantines and one that had been a rather funny life simulator where my character became an AIDS patient at three and died age 7 by the exact same disease, before you could do anything good with your character.
Once the password was put in, I also noticed the user name was my old one of Jack. That would need to be changed for now, the pictures on there would have to be put in a password protected folder as well. Once logged in, all I set myself was soon completed in quick succession. My laptop had been using the pen and touch function so far, mostly because pen and mouth seemed to be easier than risking putting that mouse in with novice magic knowledge.
My desktop had to be changed also, but that was an easier task as I could revert it to the fantasy scene album art used in my third album. The album title of 'Merchant's Blockade' near perfectly fit with the bottom of the screen. For my desktop it was a satisfying sight.
As I checked the functions, I saw nothing had failed, nothing was damaged and nothing was not being read or operating at anything less than the efficiency the cost demanded. It was as I went through the folders of the latest album that I recognised something, I had six albums, fifteen singles and several EP's that were already produced and ready to be put out. They needed tweaking first, but would be a hard task made easier. Each song and album had with it both my singing and instrumental files in separate ones in case I felt like altering.
I needed a high end microphone...
Crap.
I clicked the instrumental for one lyric featuring song not long before rushing to turn the volume down. I listened through the thing as I altered some lyrics in a Libre document also located within song's the subfolder. Two good things came from the alterations, by testing the tune I shown myself the speakers were still working and with the lyric alterations I could show I had a pilot song once I recorded the vocals.
The song, of around six minutes in length was reaching the four minute thirty point where it would reach the pinnacle of it's energy before starting a well-paced descend to the end of the runtime.
I opened the programme to pause it before looking up. I was set back to see someone standing in my doorway. It was the alabaster white mare DJ known as Vinyl Scratch. Blue hair, glasses, wild look, everything associated from what I could see and remember was there. The DJ was there and in some form of shock, from a shock which would not register with me.
I was sent back slightly, not a leap from my skin but close enough. That was what I assumed got us both to snap out of whatever we both had our minds on.
"No freaking way!" that pony exclaimed with a squee sounding noise joining the 'way' part.
"That sound came from that!"
It was also followed by squee noise.
That noise made me grin. I can say what I want about Friendship is Magic and how I became disenfranchised with it, but that noise always brought some stupid grin to me. It's so bloody cute I can't contribute fully to any emotion but the odd joy it gives.
And that noise can come from me.
Damn it.
"What do you mean?" I asked, wanting to know without assumption.
"What I mean is, how did you get a laptop to sound that good? Where did you get one like that? What speaker and sound card does it use and where can I get one?"
"I don't understand what you mean," I answered, partly to play along and partly for personal inquiry into measuring technological advancement via the subtler methods.
"I got this from a small business a while back, if what I remember is right. Why are you shocked, I thought anypony could get something like it?"
"You're joking right?" Vinyl Scratch seemed to connote I was blind to facts in the tone of voice: most people would say it is the type of voice you give as a polite way of responding to naive or moronic people.
"A laptop that can make any sound, aside from a hum, cost a tonne of bits. Even without that, have you heard the sounds of normal computer speakers?"
"Vinyl."
The voice which complained shown itself to be that of Octavia, who followed on with the unamused inflictions in her voice in saying, "I thought I told you not to bother him, he's had a lot to drink and--"
"It's fine," I interrupted.
"Whatever you got for me worked wonders. I'm still aware of everything existing in my head but it isn't like earlier. Thanks."
"Well, if you're feeling better, I think we should properly introduce."
Octavia followed herself with, "My name's Octavia Melody and this here is Vinyl Scratch."
"Nice to meet you," I begun, reminding myself to remember my current identity.
"My name is Basileus Mousiki, but if you want, Basil works for me."
"Mousiki? Correct me if I am wrong, but Mousiki is an older way ponies said music?" Octavia inquired.
"That is what I know. Although, I don't think I do the word justice."
Vinyl pointed towards the laptop and remarked, "If you made what came out of those speakers then I'll say that's not the case."
That song was worth a compliment? Really? The song which was not that memorable to me was the song that this DJ liked? I wanted to call bullshit but something stopped that. Why was that some-- Never mind.
Instead I remarked myself, "It needs a lot more work on it. It's not exactly something good after you've listened to it enough times."
"Hey Octi, if you ever go back to stallions, I think there's someone you can call on now."
The eye Octavia gave looked like one that would make a masochist moist.
What she spoke fitted the annoyance she held, "Not everypony get's the opportunity to write a symphony for the Princess on her 1000th year of ruling Equestria alone."
"I was talking about your part on Sapphire Shores' al--" Vinyl joked.
The joke was followed by a hoof to the back of the head. The old idea that Vinyl had red eyes was confirmed for me that day as the glasses that covered had fallen. I chuckled at the scene.
"We all agreed to never speak of that song again," Octavia reminded through gritted teeth.
"I can't believe they still aut--"
Another whack ended Vinyl from saying another stupid thing.
"I get it! I get it! We never speak of it again!" Vinyl submitted.
The vivid mare soon turned to me. Somewhat wanting something, she soon directed her horn to the laptop and remarked the expected.
"Show Octi what the sound from that is like."
I played an entire scenario through my head of how what could be said in the time I took myself to locate a more quality instrumental, one of the songs from the latest album. From what my mind cut out, I barely heard something about Octavia saying Vinyl may have misheard the laptop's capability.
In the music player my file opened into, I waited until they finished talking. I only then felt the time was right to raise the volume slightly and use the pen to press play on the screen.
They let the song play and, given it was only the three minute into song to the album, they shown raised eyebrows in a fashion that did not come across to me as opposing in any way the music which I had played. When there was a repeat of a rise, but in a much grander tone, I caught a pure white hoof tapping along to it. I was quick to pause before another track in the file loaded.
The first letters of a question were barely heard before I gave the response, "At this point in time I have no memory of where I bought this from, just that this machine was something I had specialised. Now, as something made to be an instrumental, how can I make it better."
Vinyl looked over to the other mare in the room and chuckled as she remained fixed in the surprise. If what I think I heard was right, the clarity in the sound had been a shock she had not fully been ready for. This was understandably high definition for them if their technology sounded pre-2000's.
Vinyl tried to crack Octavia from the shock of the leap forward and for a brief moment was unsuccessful.
A cheeky grin came with the input, "Sapphire Shores and Fifty Bits, Maelstrom, featuring Octavia."
Next came a death stare from the grey mare. Followed by the laughter from the other. Now I had the song. There's a remix I will be needing to make before I leave.
"Thank you for allowing me to bring up your collaborations with Saddleback."
I take it there's a Nickleback of the pony world...
With that saw the end of Vinyl's remarks for now.
After waiting the correct time before saying anything, which normally leaves an awkward silence for about fifteen seconds, I begun shutting down my laptop so I could have it remain in it's vault. With the light brush over it to ensure it was level, I slid the case under the bed before redirecting myself to the two mares.
The realisation hit me it was the first time I had two females in my room who were people I knew. Drunk me would be trying to convince at least one to do something, or at least contemplate making that scenario in greater detail.
Getting back to the point at h...
Then it hit me. What was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to do in a world with no money, no house and no job. At least if I had a job or house I would have money, that would allow me to try to pursue music here. Then there was the fact I already put Octavia under the presumption I had money. Moreover, I gave the idea that I had a place to return to. With a name, general location and presumption of money I had declared that with small effort that I could be traced to live somewhere. The only thing I held as value was my only chance at a decent life, otherwise I would lose my entire original plan to get home.
That in itself triggered the realisation that I had left myself trapped. If I joined in the lowest classes then I would live wage to wage. If that happened then I would be working essentially dead end waiting for a chance. If that happened then I would likely never have the funds to run a project to get home. Without that there was no chance of living how I knew how to. Without getting home there was no chance for me to see my family, no chance to keep them united when they would eventually start to fracture, no chance to give final farewells when the times came.
Looking up I noticed they had noticed something with me change.
Quick. Think of something before they ask. Think. You need to think of somethi--
Temporary memory loss?
Make them think you can't much from before last night. It's only until you can get back.
Wait...
North leads to the Crystal Empire, at least to what the fandom last knew from what the map allowed. Maybe...
Maybe going North could have meant north of somewhere else.
I don't even know where I am. I could make it that I don't know anything local to Equestria. I didn't get their technology, I overestimated and they know that. That could give some leeway.
I was stuck in the North of Scotland and had no idea of where I was geographically, or by settlement. I might be able to pull this off.
"...you alright?" I missed the beginning of Octavia's question.
I missed it but the concern meant it was not the first time she had asked the question.
"I take it I'm in a city?" I asked in earnest.
"Yes, you're in Manehattan, why did you want to know?"
"The name doesn't ring a bell. Equestria, yes. Manehattan... I've gone further than I know."
"How's that? I thought you said you once went far North and was trapped in snow. Then you said your voice might be odd to me because you thought my accent is around somewhere south of where you live? I don't claim to be an expert on geography but that would place you somewhere between Canterlot and a Northern Outpost."
"Canterlot sounds familiar, but I could not point out where it is on a map."
I then had a spark of brilliance.
"Where do the longest train routes go?"
I had Vinyl answer, "Appleloosa, there's one line which cuts through some of the Griffon Kingdoms to a territory known as Spiceland, then there's the start to the Pear State Colony, but it's not finished yet. First two are around eighteen hours with delays and the last, is ten but with days of unfinished journeying."
I brushed it off as that she tours, it makes the most sense to know the routes for efficient touring of the known world.
I then continued with, "You're saying places and all I can hear are the same a foreigner would. Vaguely familiar places and no idea of where they are.”
“I know I probably shouldn't ask, but why did you think you came South?” Octavia inquired.
“I...I want to say that from what I remember from where I lived... I want to say that the people further South were more typically upper class sounding. The North was the more common sounding accent area. But I could just be remembering it wrong,” I answered, somewhat the most truthful thing I had said so far.
“Do you remember the last place you were?” Vinyl asked, probably in an attempt to help.
Before I could answer I had to make it like I was thinking, so I did. I actually thought of the layout for what I remembered Equestria to be and came out with an answer.
“The last place I remember being at was a few streets from a bar somewhere. For all I know, I spent a long time moving around and selling stuff for another drink. It would explain why I feel like I'm not remembering a whole lot. Also explains why I still have the laptop, it's always been one of the things I'd not sell.”
For a short while we continued talking. I was trying my best to flatten and perfect the base for which my new life would be built. The two of them had been metaphorically prodding and found little of which could lead them to believe I was trying to deceive them.
As the time for rest came closer, there had been some small talk regarding what would happen going on from here. The two said they'd help until I was back on my hooves and that there could be some help with getting more acclimated to Equestria.
Music had been a topic that had always crept back, with the final discussion on it being related to a music deal. I'd mentioned I only needed a good microphone and was left wondering if the entire discussion around the deal was anything more than just a passing of an idea.
Author's Note
If You Somewhat Don't Mind This.
Appreciate Support.
Many Thanks,
Governor BOA
