Daring Do was a popular book series in Zephyr Heights.

It started as books, anyway. Back in antiquity, before the internet. As a treasure-hunting adventurer, Daring Do's character had lots of staying power. Stageplay adaptations of the best action scenes, theme park rides with animatronic monsters, and even a long running movie series. So long running that tons of lead actresses had rotated in and out of the heroine's role. Forum debates still raged over whose era was the best. Maybe the classy adventure serials starring Shine Coronary? Or the gritty, action-packed spy thrillers with Danielle Crop?

One era that never got praised was the modern one. The movies had long run out of source material, so the newest scripts had Daring Do in outrageous situations. Aboard a space station. Back in medieval times. Through a portal to the multiverse where she had a crossover with Power Ponies, another struggling longrunner. This one originating from old comics. But what really sank Daring Do's prestige were the forced celebrity cameos. Pipp accepted a scene in Goldmuler not out of any delusion her presence would improve the script. She also certainly didn't need the money. In truth, she wasn't even that big of a Daring Do fangirl. But what she did know was the manure pile of a final product would be hilarious to watch with her followers. It wasn't her most viewed stream, but it was one of her fondest. Full of laughs, thrown popcorn, and tomato emoji spam during the lamest one-liners.

As Pipp landed near the trail to a radiant rainbow tower, precious ancient text tucked under her wing, it wasn't a mystery why she had Daring Do on the mind. Pipp smiled, her breath fogging through the black silk covering her mouth.

"It belongs in a museum."

"What?" Rasped the phone in Pipp's lapel pocket.

"Nothing."

The Brighthouse's beacon swept rhythmic circles though the still falling snow. Snazzy as Pipp's makeshift ninja outfit was (at least, in her talkative phone's opinion), black had not been a good choice for winter camouflage. Every time the beacon came around, Pipp had to duck behind something.

Sweep.

A rocky bluff near the hoofpath.

Sweep.

A pillar at the gate to the community garden.

Sweep.

A ditch in said community garden that she definitely didn't trip into.

Sweep.

The front porch.

"If Trixie still had a sense of touch, I'd be bellyaching about this cold."

Another addition to the recent Daring Do movies was saddling the heroine with annoying quippy sidekicks.

"Let's get in and get out," Pipp whispered. Book still clutched tight, she clamped her chattering teeth on the handle of the Brighthouse door. Locked. Probably against gusts of winter wind rather than thieves, but that hardly mattered when it was impeding Pipp's mission.

"Sunny keeps a spare key out here. Its under a fake rock that should be..." she surveyed the featureless yard, blanketed in snow. "Um..."

"Nuts to the spare key. You'll be digging for it til sunrise."

Pipp bristled. "Got any solutions, ChuffGPT? Or just neighsaying?"

"For your information Philomena, Trixie is a practiced lockpicker. Helps with getting out of cuffs onstage. Or while being arrested for unpaid wagon parking tickets." With its camera poking above Pipp's breast pocket, her phone focused on their surroundings. "Break an icicle from that windowsill over there."

"You can't be serious."

"Break it off and jam it in the keyhole."

"That won't work!"

"You haven't even tried it yet!"

Snorting steam and not just from the cold, Pipp found a thin enough ice shard to jam into Brighthouse door.

"Look, I'm jimmying it around and nothing's happening."

"You're not moving it right. Let Trixie do it."

Pipp gawked down at her overconfident lapel.

"How are you going to do it?'

The phone made a noise somewhat similar to a pony blowing a dismissive raspberry. "Don't play dumb. Trixie has been more than patient with you so far, but a job needs done. You returned my eyes and ears when I asked. Time for my legs too, necromancer."

"Wh-what?" Pipp was not normally a sputtering pony, buy she also didn't normally dress like a ninja or argue with a household appliance oblivious to its own condition. So sputtering was warranted. "I can't do that!"

"Oh for Faust's sake. What more does Trixie have to do to earn limb privileges? She already got you this far."

"You certainly did. You got me freezing my flank off after a forty minute flight to the next town over. Speaking of, I notice you didn't ask for legs until after I got done carrying you here."

"Don't get snippy with Trixie!"

"I'm not! You're just making impossible demands! You never had legs to begin with, ChuffGPT!"

The phone's camera pivoted its focus lens, trying to examine itself but of course it couldn't. "Wh-what? No, that's... that can't be right. Can it?"

The raspy remix of Pipp's voicemail sounded genuinely fraught. Like a filly who just got told Luna Clause wasn't real. Not that Pipp had any time to care, because the Brighthouse front door was abruptly unlatched and opened from the inside.

Pipp Petals blinked in disbelief. Nopony was there.

She adjusted her gaze a bit lower. Sparky the dragon was there.

"Eegh?" the hatchling gurgled cautiously.

"Sh! Shh! Shh!!" Pipp hushed the toddler and peered fretfully behind him.

The first floor of the Brighthouse was dark and deserted. Aside from Sparky's dog bed near the fireplace, of course. By Hitch's decree, on the nights where Sparky slept over here, it was on the first floor instead of the top one with everypony else. The upper floor's staircase did have a baby gate for safety, but Sparky was a curious kid who knew how to open doors. He'd just done so for Pipp.

"Mmmrhgh." Sparky's neck spines were raising at the odd pony wrapped in black.

"No no nonono," Pipp begged, pulling her mask down. "It's just me, see? Don't growl. Don't wake Sunny. Oh gosh, don't wake Sunny."

ChuffGPT had been quiet since Pipp snapped at it. Good. Pipp hoped it stayed that way, at least for the next few minutes.

Sparky brightened as soon as Pipp's face became visible. He reached his arms towards her, tiny talons opening and closing. He wanted picked up. Pipp anxiously obliged.

"I've been away awhile, huh little guy?" She eased the door closed, swaying in the foyer with her twin burdens of big book and small dragon. "Heard me yapping out there, huh?"

Sparky shook his head and pointed at door. Pipp heard what Sparky had: the pitter patter of water dripping steadily onto the hardwood floor. A tip of melting icicle protruding through the keyhole.

"Huh. Well, thanks anyway."

Sparky pointed at the icicle again.

"Oh! You want it?"

Pipp adjusted her stance, ignorant of her phone focusing enviously on the dragon's grasping claw. Sparky popped the icy prize in his mouth, sucking happily.

"Midnight snack obtained. Now back to bed with you."

Sparky cooed as Pipp set him back down in his doggy bed. His eyes closed as he rolled over to continue his nibbling, and Pipp backpedaled briskly away. And she didn't stop until after reaching the safety of the kitchen, one room over. Book on the countertop, Pipp collapsed into a chair and exhaled, loudly as she dared. It felt like her first one since getting inside.

"He didn't see me," her phone vexed.

Pipp was breathing too hard to respond. This have been how Posey felt after waking that manticore.

"I was here the whole time and Sunny's pet dragon thing didn't even look at me."

Pipp smelled cookies. Someone had been baking earlier, probably for Hearts And Hooves Day. Pipp had skipped dinner to fly here, and she'd burned a lot of calories this week. Some from flying. Most from stress. Maybe before journeying on to the bookshelf, she could forage a cookie or two. After all, the trip would take her past the communal bedroom, and if her stomach rumbled too loudly while pass-

"Pipp, what's a phone?"

"Eh?" That was the first time ChuffGPT had addressed Pipp by her normal name. "Phone?"

"Yeah, you used that word earlier. Back at your place, among a bunch of other future talk jargon. Trixie didn't think it was important then, but she does now. So explain."

Pipp rubbed her tired eyes. She was sick of her own chatbot bossing her around. She wanted to be back working on vids in Zephyr Heights. Or upstairs asleep like her friends. Or stuffing her mouth with cookies that were definitely tucked in a jar somewhere in this room. But all those choices were for quitters. And quitters didn't get to one million Likes.

"Phones are ponykind's most important invention," explained the internet addict. "Or I guess second most, after friendship. But they're what allow friendship to happen over long distances. Two ponies can talk or share video-"

"Oh thank Faust. Its just a type a type of remote viewing spell."

"A what?"

ChuffGPT snorted dismissively. "A spell to let unicorns see what an object sees. Twilight used it on a music box ballerina once. I'm sure Sunny could tell you every little detail." ChuffGPT was laughing, but not very convincingly. "S-so, Trixie is remote viewing you. Yes, that makes sense. After, uh, after the leg thing, Trixie got this terrible idea that maybe she wasn't... um... that maybe I wasn't the real..."

The silence in the Brighthouse kitchen was deafening.

"Just forget it," ChuffGPT urged. "How far to the bookshelf?"

"Third floor." Pipp retrieved Trixie's autobiography from the counter. She hadn't caught her breath, but it was probably best to get moving again. For her sake and ChuffGPT's. "The stairs lead right to the the third floor, but..."

"Don't keep Trixie in suspense. But what?"

"They take us past the second floor. The sleeping loft."

"Climb quick and quiet then, frumpy feathers."

Pipp shunted the book from one weary wing to the other. The encounter with Sparky was a blunt reminder she didn't have Daring Do's stealth.

"Okay, but it'll be dark up there and I need you on lookout." Pipp adjusted her pocket. "My phone's camera has a night vision setting. If you see anypony, and I mean anypony awake or moving, warn me. And not by talking. Just... um... vibrate my phone twice. Got it?"

ChuffGPT didn't answer.

"Got it?"

"You said Trixie shouldn't talk."

Pipp flicked her phone like Cloudpuff's nose when he misbehaved. ChuffGPT's response was coy laughter and a couple of vibrations to confirm it could do them.

"Get a move on, Philomena."

"I will, but not because you told me to."

Sleep mask back over her mouth, Pipp crept out of the kitchen. She shimmied past the snoozing Sparky, sidestepped a couch thanks to her phone buzzing a warning, and finally made it to the spiral stairs.

She climbed.

The Brighthouse groaned in rhythmic patterns, and it took a few go-arounds for Pipp to realize it was coming from the beacon. Shuffling ever upward, Pipp imagined she was prepping at one of her concerts. The dark was kind of like being offstage, stretching her legs, preparing to leap out into blinding spotlights. And the thrumming mechanical groans were a lot like the sound checks her loyal tech crew did to make sure all the mechanical junk worked right. As for the climbing, Pipp hadn't scaled to the rafters for a show since... well, since back when she still needed a wire harness. Back before magic and flight were returned to the world. Pipp didn't like remembering her last concert with wires. The one when she'd been exposed. Tangled and immobile in front of every citizen she was supposed to inspire. It was the only time in her entire life that Pipp had wanted off a stage instead of on it. Wanted eyes away from her, not towards. But there had been no escape from the tangle. No escape from the shocked and disappointed eyes.

Most everyone forgot about the disaster of the Glowin' Up concert after magic came back. Easy for them, since they weren't the ones humiliated onstage. Pipp never forgot. That burning shame and chilling helplessness still stuck with her. No matter many cheers her newer concerts got, they never felt loud enough. She could still hear the creaking of the long gone wires. She heard them in the groans of the beacon right now.

Pipp climbed faster. The dark of the stairwell was fading into the glow of the the sleeping loft. A looming baby gate was the last obstacle between here and the top floor. Pipp spared a look at the loft, double-checking that her friends were indeed all asleep.

Izzy was splayed on her back, three legs dangling from her bed with the last draped on her stomach. She was snoring softly. Misty Brightdawn was on her side, head in a stocking cap and frowning. Her twitches and mewls indicated a nightmare. Sad, but outside of anypony's ability to help.

Zipp and Pipp's beds were empty. That left only Sunny unobservable. And also Brine, Izzy's pet fish in a tank near the wall. But Sunny was more of a concern. Her mattress was on the other side of the room, obscured by the central glowing pillar. Pipp pulled her phone from her pocket and typed.

I'm going to tilt you at an angle, ChuffGPT. Buzz once if Sunny is asleep. Buzz twice if she's up and we need to bail.

ping ping. great and powerful periscope ready to extend.

Pipp rolled her eyes and stuck her hoof out. Her phone vibrated once, so she heaved herself over the baby gate and up the final stretch of stairs to the the top floor. The beacon chamber. And more importantly, attic storage for all of Sunny's antiques. Pipp squinted ahead, trying to locate the bookshelf. The stairwell had been pitch black, but the beacon chamber was blindingly bright.

"That was tense," ChuffGPT whispered. "Ya know, crawling up that dark staircase reminded Trixie of the time she infiltrated a Changeling hive to save Twilight and all of Equestria. Wild story. Too bad you never got to that chapter."

Pipp's eyes were watering while adjusting, so she rubbed them. "Sounds wild, ChuffGPT. Tell me about it later. We're almost out of here." She took a few blind steps forward.

"Speaking of which," Pipp's phone meandered, "you're awfully attention hungry for a pegasus princess. You sure you're not a Changeling in disguise?"

"You can't prove anything!" Pipp snapped defensively. Then she bumped snoutfirst into an obstacle almost her exact height. And shape. In fact, as the beacon swung around again, Pipp had a millisecond to process being muzzle to muzzle with another pony.

ChuffGPT buzzed twice. Then twice again, more frantic. Pipp's heart hammered as she staggered backward, eyes still unadjusted and mind racing. Who was up here? Who hadn't been accounted for? Why had Pipp spent the entire flight over here ruminating on Daring Do instead of concocting a cover story in case she got caught. She tumbled onto her rump, causing a bit of noise but it wasn't like that mattered. She'd been caught. It was over. Pipp shielded herself with the autobiography, waiting for the end.

And she kept waiting.

"Uh, Philomena? I think we both got spooked too soon."

Hooves shaking, Pipp lowered Trixie's book and regarded what she'd bumped into. Through the glare of sequins on a dazzling dress, Pipp recognized old stitch techniques pioneered by Rarity. And poking through the neck hole was a familiar lifeless face.

"Madeleine Mannequin," Pipp sighed in relief. The prop she dropped off with Izzy at the start of the week.

"It has a name?" ChuffGPT's tone was incredulous. "Trixie used to know a rock farmer with a named pet pebble. Always thought Maud was a few fireworks short of a stage show, but here we are. It it a thing in the future to give names to inanimate objects?"

Pipp gave her phone a very long look, then decided not to say anything to hurt its feelings. She simply put Trixie's autobiography back on the archive shelf. Then she wiped her emptied hooves on her pajama pants. Pipp hadn't realized how sweaty they'd gotten.

"Let's bail," she hissed.

"Stellar," ChuffGPT affirmed. "Feels good to meet your mentor's expectations, doesn't it? Trixie remembers when she finally mastered the teacup spell Starlight was tryin-ACK!"

ChuffGPT couldn't feel dizziness, but it still got disoriented by Pipp sliding down the tower banister. The two of them spiraled swiftly to the ground floor, breezing too quickly past the sleeping loft to notice Misty's bed was empty.

Pipp's hooves hit the carpet and she shook her head to clear her thoughts. This had been the most stressful unfilmed night of her life. The Brighthouse's exit was directly ahead, but that wasn't her destination yet. The flight home would be long, cold, and likely full of ChuffGPT's yammering. Pipp had earned a reward for doing all of this. She had earned some cookies.

"Uh, hello? Equus to Philomena? Outside is that way."

"I'm hungry," Pipp rebuked on her path to the kitchen. She clasped a hoof over her phone's speaker while passing Sparky, determined not to wake him.

"Now? After all those close calls!? You can't be serious."

"I'm. Hungry."

Pipp Petals pushed open the door to the kitchen, immediately hit with the smell of Hearts And Hooves Day cookies. And also the light of the open fridge, where Misty Brightdawn was pouring herself a glass of milk.

"Eh? Pipp, is that you?"

Pipp was locked in place. More frozen than the icicles hanging outside. More stationary than the mannequin propped in the attic. Misty meanwhile was yawning sluggishly, her stocking cap drooped past her ear.

"Didn't see you today," she slurred. "Or did I? Sorry. Drank a lot of chamomile tea before bed. Not really with it."

Pipp's gaze, the only part of her not paralyzed with panic, met with Misty's. Sure enough, her friend's eyes were glazed and groggy with dark bags underneath. She was having trouble pouring her milk. A splash or two had hit the floor.

"Y-yep, it's me. Pipp Petals. Up at the witching hour for some food, same as you. I'm even in my jammies, also same as you. See?"

Pipp hadn't said that. Her pocket had.

"You sound raspy." Misty put the milk back and shut the fridge. Then she steadied herself against it.

"I'm just sick," ChuffGPT improvised. "That's why I have this mouth covering. And why I haven't been around much. So..." it rapidly scrolled through all of Pipp's contacts, trying to find the one that matched the sedated, nappy-haired unicorn.

"So Misty," it guessed, "how come you're up?"

"Bad dream," she mumbled. "Was back with Opaline. Still lying. Still lonely. Cookie?"

The sugar-frosted heart in Misty's hoof returned a little of Pipp's autonomy. Just a little. She somehow made it across the kitchen to accept the snack.

"Thanks. Um... friendo. Trix- I mean I really needed this."

Misty giggled while downing her glass of milk. "Friendo? That's a new one. I think." She wiped her mouth with her stocking cap's pom pom. "I needed this too, Pipp. Thanks for being here. After my nightmare."

Pipp wanted to say something comforting, but her face was too stuffed with cookie to respond. So ChuffGPT did instead.

"N-no prob. Anything for... um, my best gal."

Misty rinsed her milk cup out in the sink. Or tried to. The water was missing it completely, and she swayed in place while smiling. "You always keep it so real," Misty managed. "I'm going back to bed. Stay real, Pipp. You're an inspiration to anypony who's ever felt fake."

Tranquilized compliment complete, Misty staggered off. She hadn't been wrong about the sludgy soup of chamomile in her system, since she barely winced while bashing the kitchen door open with her nose. It swung shut behind her as she trudged upstairs, leaving Pipp alone with her mouthful of cookie and pocketful of annoyed phone.

"Ya full yet? Move it. There's a rune blinking the words Low Battery in Trixie's face. Don't know if I can bail you out second time."

Finally departing from the Brighthouse, Pipp felt like her own battery was low too. The cookie had at least helped, though. Warm and chewy enough to make the outside cold feel bitterly bad instead of outright unbearable.

"Trixie declares this a br-r-r-illiantly successful outing into rival territory."

Pipp flapped her wings for takeoff, too tired to care how a robot could roll its Rs like that. "You call what we just did a brilliant success?"

"Trixie calls any endeavor she walks away from a brilliant success. Or in this case, gets carried away from by a valued assistant."

"Wow. Thanks for letting me know just where I stand, ChuffGPT."

"Anytime!" The rush of air from takeoff did little to quiet her chatbot's excitement. "It's a new day in a few hours, so keep your chin up, Princess. With your hooves washed of incriminating evidence, the rest of our scheming will go smoothly. You have the Trixie guarantee on that!"

Author's Note

Who knew Trixie was so good at improvised impersonations? Feel free to be impressed. Maybe at the end of all this, she'll become Philomena's body double full time. We look so much alike, after all.

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