My Life on a Cassette Tape

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The rhythmic dripping of water from a faucet onto the cold surface of a metal pan.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Closer and closer.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

A few more drops was all that was needed.

Tap. Tap. ...

Perfect. Shifting his weight in his prison, he rolled over to the small pan that shimmered with water and the glowing purple of the dome that ensnared him. Never had he been so trapped. He was impossible to hold! Only his creator had power over him, and he had been ordered to deal with this situation. He hadn't lived a hundred pony life times just to rot away in a basement.

Reaching an appendage into the small bowl they had given him in their infinite kindness, he touched the water. He then reached out into the water itself. It wasn't like reaching out to grasp a part of a pony, and it wasn't even like extracting states from solid objects. Water was tricky - it was why he rarely interacted with it. It disgusted him. How ponies and his master stomached imbibing the sloshy, wet, inconstant substance, he would never know, but the pony's assumption he needed it too would be her downfall.

It absorbed into him, its properties becoming his, and then he was thoroughly reminded why he hated water, but also why it was so useful. He sloshed across his prison's floor, a smirk on his features, if any still existed. Reaching out into the shield's essence, he grasped hold and got to his task. He now had a feature to trade, and he was going to trade. His liquid body reformed into a solid state, while the shield wavered, and then collapsed into a pool of purple liquid around him. He was almost disappointed it hadn't turned into liquid mana, that at least would've been nourishing rather than just annoying.

He exited the basement, step by step, avoiding the third stair from the top. Pushing open the door slowly, he peaked out, listening closely. No pony was near by. Pressing an ear to the ventilation grate beside him, he closed his eyes and focused. Echoes of echoes bounced about, but the sounds of murmured chatter - of laughter - reached him all the same. The place was occupied, but not in a room near him. He wouldn't risk getting caught, he had had enough of these ponies.

Sneaking through the living room, he reached the front door. He touched the hinges, smiling as he made them good as new while his teeth and lips decayed. Grabbing the knob, he pressed an ear against the door. Nothing from outside. Pulling the door open, the new hinges glided open with ease. Stepping out, he froze momentarily as he heard something from upstairs.

"I don't know why, she just said double time it and get over there as soon as possible." One voice said.

"The Arcano-Wagon is right out front, let's use it. That'll certainly be faster than she expected." Another voice replied. How many were there? Slipping around the door frame, he listened from inside the hedge. Step step ste-step step ste-ste-step. Three or four... the heft of some of those steps meant it might be a heavy set pony in the mix... no... one of them was walking backwards, evident by the out of rhythm and awkward steps. They were carrying another. Four or five then. He wouldn't stick around to make sure.

Turning to leave, he stopped again. These ponies were part of the problem. Not only that, they were over encumbered. It was a perfect opportunity. He gently closed the door, and then slipped like a greased shadow and made his way to where he would wait. No mistakes. His master would be proud when he succeeded and he would succeed.

Stellar Afterglow hefted the limp form of Gunther into the back seat. He had had a terrible night, all roughly starting with Cress arriving. Technically his evening had gotten better after Cress' visit, the cold embrace of unconsciousness was, at least in Stella's unprofessional opinion, better than being awake to understand you were in pain. The cold embrace of nothingness did sound tempting, at least for a while. Maybe she'd take a nap.

Rose hopped in to the operator side, inserting an enchanted tag into a slot and then pulling back a plunger that shot immediately back to where it began, setting in motion the twin mythril driving cores that whirred in the front compartment of the vehicle.

"How fast can we be over there?" Stella asked, throwing a blanket over Gunther as he slept before hopping in, sitting on the front edge of the back seat, holding onto one of the metal bits of frame. Dick took the passenger side seat and patted his lap to Puppershy, who came closer on all fours, thoroughly dedicated to her game of being a dog... or a puppy as the case may be. Bounding up, she took a more pony like seating arrangement, sitting side saddle on Dick's lap, resting against his outstretched arm that grabbed another piece of the metal frame. It was cramped, but that happened when transporting an unconscious griffon who took up an entire seat, not that Dick minded as Puppers licked his cheek happily.

"Twilight's Castle? Considering how long of a walk it is... five minutes? If I drive carelessly I might cut it in half." Rose offered as she leaned over, cranking a lever a few times, setting the counter charge to the mythril driving system.

"Drive somewhere between regular and reckless. I'd like us all to arrive safely but quickly." Stella said with a smile that conveyed her discomfort. At this point it seemed like there was a contest between Puppers and her to see who could be the most unsafe while riding in this contraption.

"Gotcha, let's get going then." She pulled back the brake lever with a flourish. "Chocks away!" And with that pushed forward on the steering levers a different amount, setting the vehicle into a turn as they left Berry's house behind.

"I wonder if it's the Empire again." Dick said solemnly. "It's been... what, two or three days since they last bothered us? I can't imagine they've forgotten about us."

"Only two days? Wow, time certainly can take it's good time." Rose chuckled as she pushed both levers farther forward, increasing the vehicle's speed as they maneuvered down the bumpy road. "Any ideas what we might try to do to help? I don't think any of us are particularly sympathetic towards the Empire, and honestly, even though it means we'll have to work with Cress, I think we might agree one is supremely evil, while the other is a di- I mean a jerk."

"Hey, I get it, my name is an insult, but it's also true." Dick said, using his free hand to pet Puppershy. "He is me, and I'm him. He lost a bit of himself, and the same goes with me. We're parts of a whole. I guess... well I don't know about you all, but Cress always kind of hated himself, still does, but now it has extended into us being two ponies." Dick sighed, shaking his head. "He blames himself for a lot of things that weren't his fault."

"Kind of like you." Stella noted with a wry grin.

"Exactly like me, we are basically the same pony." Dick countered. "But anyway... yeah, he's... I'm tough on him because it's how I've always been with myself - how he's always been with himself. I... I can't blame him for Gunther, but I also can't forgive him for it. He thought Gunther deserved punishment, but he went to far. I hope he sees that."

"Maybe he has, maybe he hasn't, but maybe that's why you are here. You're a darker, more sexual version of him, just like the rest of us with our doppelgangers. Maybe he needs you as much as you need him. A solid reference to check yourself against. Or maybe you just have to talk to him. Who knows; the world has been quite weird recently."

"You can say that again!" Dick chuckled. The rest of the trip was fairly silent, each pony retreating into their own thoughts. The further the separation point grew in time, they developed into more independent ponies - further seperated from the other half that was still technically them - at least so it seemed to Dick. At the start he was just purely about sex. He loved it, why shouldn't he pursue it at all turns? But that changed. He realized that sex needn't define him. He was a pony of his own. A pony who did start out with some of Cress' baggage, and a hole shaped like the rest of Cress' baggage that the other pony still carried. He felt the absence of the twinge of hope that his mother would indeed be alright, much as Cress felt the purer realization of that feeling. It wasn't that Dick wanted Cress' mom to die, far from it. The hollow feeling, the empty feeling, the unrealized emotion that sat there as a hole, a void, was just a different sort of sensation. An understanding of what one should feel, and yet the lack of such a feeling, despite having the silhouette of such emotion haunting the heart. Dick had a Cress shaped hole in him, and it wasn't even something sexual this time.

In the end, Dick wanted Cress to do right, as much as he wanted to prove he himself could do right. Both of them, it seemed to Dick, had done so much wrong in their short time on Equestria - an even shorter time for Dick, admittedly - that it tainted even the purest good they had indeed accomplished. It made it all seem like a pathetic excuse for reimbursement to the universe at large. Dick wanted to prove himself beyond a shadow of a doubt to be a good pony, not defined by his origin, but each step seemed to be accompanied by a shove back to where he had started, whether by his own actions or by the perceptions of others.

He would do better, and so would Cress. They both were the same pony in many ways. They'd have to do better, or else... or else things would get far worse for those around them. Dick determined he would help Cress as much as he could, it was only right. He'd set his own self-hatred to the side and he'd help, he'd forgive, and then... then they'd move forward. They'd prove themselves to the ponies who mattered the most - both the ones that they loved the most, but almost more importantly, themselves.

Dick stroked Puppershy's hair once more, setting himself to the purpose before him. He wouldn't fail, he couldn't fail. There was far too much at stake, too much on the line. He would win, Cress would win, and then... then each could settle down in their own way. A happy life, a good life. That was what he wanted, and it was what he'd strive for.