Following the Thread

Teeth picked at the dried drool on her lower lip, studiously inspecting her reflection in the cooking yolks of her breakfast. Almost absentmindedly her magic picked and pried at Spike’s snack jar.

Her tongue pressed hard against her teeth as she measured out her seasoning. Although she always was liberal with the black pepper. Pound of pepper just to persevere against the elements. One need not interfere with perfection, 'recipes' be damned.

Spike never seemed to mind, but that might be that she always ate half of his breakfast and needed to start over before he woke up anyway.

“Spiiiiiiiiike! Time for breakfast!” Twilight called, struggling to not scarf down the pan before he waddled downstairs.

A draconic groan echoed down the stairs in reply. She quietly laughed to herself as she set the table.

Well, almost, anyway. Magic working on instinct, the plates almost dropped to the ground. The table was almost certainly seven hoofsteps from the front door, and this time it had moved at least fifteen. Ridiculous.

His blurry form toddled in as she slumped back on her haunches. Her tongue stuck out in a marked sign of determination, the plates drifting up from their near-miss and setting at the table with a soft clink.

It was a long silence before she spoke again, halfway through their meal:

“Spike, did I try to redecorate after last night? You know I seem to have these breakthroughs when I, uh..” She waggled a hoof back and forth. “You know.”

Claw balled in his eye to brush away sleep, he said, “Mm, I don’t think so, Twi. Why?”

“Just I almost…” She shook her head. “Nevermind.”

It drifted on in silence. It pricked at the back of her head. She felt a need for information. For learning. For, dare she say it, the joy of experimentation.

“So." Her fork hit the plate. “I’m going to take my run with Rainbow before we work today, alright? You have fun. But I expect you back before lunchtime.”

"You got it," he said, nose already half-buried in a comic. Like he was going anywhere.

My teeth ground together as the DTE launchpad clicked on. Turning this thing on and off was quickly becoming a chore.

An azure film melted through the pastel paintscape before her. Even as she beat the ground like it owed her money, the monitors in this bafflingly intricate system kept accurate count of her speed, distance, and heart rate. When she cast a spell to catch a stray apple flung high to the sky, it could play back the trace of her spell frame by frame, plotting the magic burning through the air.

Was this really the work of a simple Manehattan company?

She had never been, but she remembered Applejack emphasizing to her that it was a mostly earth pony city. DTE Technologies must have a squadron of unicorns on staff.

Almost certainly, she mused.

Rainbow was waiting as she completed her circuit, wholly lacking in gravitas as she clapped the Sparkle on the back, rejoicing in a disgusting sweaty hug.

"Hey, great job! You made better time than last week. Maybe those frames are doing something for you after all," Rainbow joshed.

"Only by five seconds," Twilight said. "But thanks for helping me with this, again. If you want, I can try to record your times myself."

Dash cackled, darting above her friend's head. "If those things can keep up, sure."

What ensued was a familiar happenstance: The pegasus completed an almost identical route to her first encounter with Twilight, albeit no clouds to stunningly obliterate.

As Twilight drew her focus sharp, the reticule on the lens identified the target with ease. It traced a spectrum of lights and waves, of gravity bowing to the reign of a most peculiar Dash. It was like viewing her through a slideshow.

Although, she noted, when Dash was at peak speed in the first portion, it had struggled to keep track of her initial movements. From that, she severely doubted that this technology could, say, record a Wonderbolts show for play-by-play analysis. Unfortunately for our aspirant superstar.

"Well?"

Maybe I shouldn't --

The glasses were wrenched from her face.

"No, no please, don't!" Rainbow Dash awkwardly scrunched the glasses onto her head, the frames too large for her face. The arms hung sloppily, almost grotesque. Her snout crinkled. Her mouth folded in.

"Ugh, this is giving me a headache. How can you read this stuff?"

They drifted back to earth upon wingtip, Twilight accepting the package with an anxiety yet to be tainted with relief.

"Please be careful!"

Her heart rate subsided as the frames dropped back onto her face. She blew out, hard, cool air stirring the dust beneath her hooves. She fixed Rainbow with a stare. "If you had given me five seconds, I could've told you, you were two seconds faster than normal. Nine seconds."

"Uh, no. That'd be eight seconds. It was 'ten seconds flat', remember?"

Twilight tilted her head up at her friend. Arguing would be a waste of time. Later, she'd show her her records from that day. Was that too petty?

"I guess you're right," she said, feeling a little sour about the whole affair.

Spike was dutifully waiting by the front door as the sun inched its way towards what some may call 'eleven o'clock'. What Twilight preferred was 'early lunch', but something of importance superseded that desire right now.

"Give me a second," she said, Spike closing his mouth in perturbance as she brushed by. Filing cabinet screeched open. Records flitted past irritated eyes.

Summer Sun Celebration, 1000 F.O.N.

Musings, commentaries, off-handed ribbings...

There:

Met one 'Rainbow Dash'. Left me a mess, but incredibly fast. Clocked in at a record ten seconds in clearing the skies. At least I don't need to worry about the weather for the celebration.

Her hoof traced the line again. Unmistakable. Her own hoofwriting. Black and white. Right and wrong.

She bit the inside of her cheek, shuffling everything to its proper place. It was possible for her to be wrong, wasn't it?
I've been wrong before.

It's just...

The Changeling Invasion had been so recent. And they hadn't believed her there either. But the stakes were lower here. Her talent wasn't memory related, so it wasn't to be expected she remember everything.

In the midst of her reverie, a blip popped in the upper right of her vision.

New connection found! User ThePronoidOvoid#1987 is within 350 hoofsteps of your location.

A pointer appeared shortly after, indicating the direction of…

Whatever this was.

In the air above her head, she saw this glimmer of light, feathery-strands shining silver -- gold -- purple -- every color of the rainbow and beyond.

She snatched Spike up without further words. He asked once, twice, three times where they were going. But she kept her mouth shut, ears twitching with every word that brushed past her.

It wasn't long before the straggles of the wilderness cropped up. Sure sign they were near the Everfree. But she didn't need to say or think anything else before the little triangular blip that accompanied all new logs in the file system showed up. The map interface was growing, surely but steadily. She'd need to ask customer support about this; it seemed awfully invasive to automatically record anything. There didn't appear to be a way to turn it off, either.

The strand ducked and choked through the knots of nearby trees, slithered through the brambles of a blackberry bush. 150 steps

100 steps.

50.

25.

And then, it vanished.

Connection lost. Darn! Guess you can make friends next time.