Sent 47 minutes ago
To: T00tyFruityLyra1996
Subject: Kind of an odd question...

Good morning, Lyra. I did not have a fun day yesterday. Needless to say, the one thing I didn't want to happen happened, and I had to explain a hell of a lot to my parents and the rest of my family. I think the only one who enjoyed me being caught was my niece. She was absolutely thrilled to have a unicorn in front of her. I'm pretty sure the rest of them think I'm something akin to a child molester now.

I have a bit of good news. I was able to recover my headset from my computer's wreckage pile, and I have access to our laptop, so I should be able to Skype with you to catch up on things in better detail later this afternoon. Still, I have a few questions, in chronological order.

Do... animals naturally dislike you? Or are the animals in this world scared of magic? I had a bit of a terrifying incident last night when our dogs came after me like I was some kind of monster attacking the family. The most docile of them was trying to kill me! What's with that?

... and then I had sort of a bizarre 'dream' last night. Well, I'm hoping it was a dream, anyway. It felt like I was experiencing a rather... personal memory. It was your first day in Ponyville, and you were looking for an apartment. You were in heat, and everypony was hitting on you. Then you were saved from a bunch of horndog youths by Bon-Bon. I guess I'm asking a few things here. Was what I experienced a memory? Did you two really meet in such an awkward way? Do stallions in Equestria actually get gelded if they misbehave?

The dream aside, I had another question. When you were a pony, did you by any chance sleepwalk? Kinda had a frightening experience this morning, being woken up─screaming, might I add─by my mother just inside the front door. Is this going to be a problem? As an aside, I seem to be walking less like a drunk now.

P.S. How was the party, by the way?

It’s pretty bad when you spend almost fifty minutes just waiting for an email. That’s just one of those signs that you really don’t want to do anything else in a day. But hey, I’ve got the laptop out of the basement now, and I’m sitting oh so comfortably on the couch. It’s not the easiest to operate the trackpad with a pencil eraser, but it’s practically the only thing that seems to work. It’s not like waiting is that bad. I have real access to the Internet again.

I’d prefer to be sitting down in the basement, where it is cooler purely through the rules of thermodynamics, but it’s where the dogs spend most of their day when they aren’t outside. Not wanting any repeats of last night, it’s easy to guess that I locked myself away in the bathroom until they were downstairs. Yeah, I’m not really proud of hiding from my own dogs. Don’t tease me about it! It was a traumatic incident.

At least I have the Internet again. I realize at this point, I’ve not heard a word from any of my editors. This is probably for the best. It’s impossible to get any writing done like this. There’s only one thing that I can do, and that’s make a blog post on FiMFiction. Something simple will suffice.

Title: Displaced on Hiatus
Body: Due to extenuating circumstances, I am unable to complete Displaced at this time. I hope you all can understand that it is terribly hard to type without the use of my hands. Pen in mouth is terrible for typing. Sorry.

“That’s good enough,” I mumble as I click submit. As I glance about my screen, I notice a new message in my email inbox.

Received 2 minutes ago
Sender: T00tyFruityLyra1996
Subject: Re: Kind of an odd question...

Oh my gosh... Did you really see that memory? I’m so embarrassed. That was a memory, but I don’t really know how to explain it... Twilight’s so much better at understanding and explaining these things. Supposedly, a unicorn’s horn acts as a sort of back-up storage in event of emergency. If a unicorn loses their memories, or has them forcibly replaced, the back-up kicks in and begins restoring his or her memories. It’s a sort of fail-safe that evolved to help unicorns retain skills and identity after serious brain injury, I guess. I could swear that Twilight said something about these kinds of spells not triggering that kind of response though... I’ve gotta talk to Twilight about this.

“That sounds... ominous...” I croak, not at all liking the implications. Still, I read on.

As far as the animals thing is concerned, I have no idea. I usually get along with animals as well as any other pony. Your idea seems reasonable enough, but again, I have no way to be sure. It’s another thing to ask Twilight about.

I used to sleepwalk when I was a little filly. That was years ago, though. If that backup is doing what I think it is, you’ll probably experience a few other odd occurrences. Nothing major... just some minor magical disturbances, and a bit more sleepwalking if I had to guess. Still, keep me informed.

The party was... fun, from what I can remember. I must have had more hard apple cider than I thought though... I can only remember a small portion of the night. It’s a wonder I’m not hung over. I can’t tell if she’s hung over or just mad at me, but Bon-Bon’s been a real grouch all morning. Then again, she’s never been keen on stallions. Won’t tell me why.

Anyway, I’ve gotta get going. I should probably go talk to Twilight about that backup thing. Keep safe, and sorry about everything you’ve gone through. I’ll contact you via Skype when I return.

Great! So it seems I’ll be sleep-walking, having magical accidents, and god knows what else. I’m not even sure I want to know what she did while she was drunk. It's also unusual for her to completely ignore the question about gelding. This does not instill confidence in the least.

Alas, there is nothing I can do without hands or... Wait a minute. Idly, I levitate the laptop off of my lap and hop off the couch and begin trotting to the stairs. I don’t recall using my mouth on the pencil I’ve been typing with and manipulating the track-pad, but it hasn’t been nearly an issue to control magically that I thought it would be. As I realize this, I can’t help but recall what it is that Lyra was saying. Parts of me are going to be overwritten, until she’s restored from back-up and there’s nothing left of me.

That thought instills a bit of panic in me. Having my mind slowly replaced is not a prospect that sounds pleasant. How long until I start forgetting things. Quick... Who was my childhood friend? Octav—no, Davis! That’s it. I still have my memories. Quick, another one. Where was I born? North Quarter, Canter—no! I shake my head vigorously. I’m better than this! I can beat this!

Yeah, it’s a foolish notion, attempting to fight something you don’t truly understand. I mean, the concept as I understand it is fairly simple. Automatic restoration of data from shadow copy stored externally from the main memory module. The computers in my high school were kind of like that, but replace the whole restoration bit with not saving any changes made on the computer’s main drive. How it’s actually working on my brain, however, I haven’t any clue.

With that thought, I realize that I’ve completely forgotten why I got up in the first place. I know it’s a weird thing to take comfort in. Being scatterbrained in the first place, I often deal with this sort of thing. Sure, it’s really annoying, but it’s just one of those things you have to live with.

Still, I can’t ignore the fact that there’s a very real chance that I could be losing myself. If things are as bad as I’m expecting, this could happen in a manner of days. I need to be prepared for that eventuality, but what would be the best option? Should I prepare messages to my loved ones? What would I say?

I can’t think at all with the humidity here in the house. More than anything, the prospect of taking a dip in the above ground swimming pool is godly. It’s not like I can even be seen. There’s like one narrow band of space that can be seen from the road. Anybody looking hard enough to think I’m more than some brightly colored pool floatie can die in a fire for all I care.

I don’t have to worry about the dogs out onto the pool deck either. Even if the gate is open, they couldn’t cross the threshold if they wanted to. God, I am so thankful for the invention of the wireless fence. As long as they’re not outside right this very instant, I will have no issue getting to the pool.

Before I can go for a dip, though, I need to get a towel. That’s but a mere trip up the stairs and a foray into the linen closet. I probably don’t need the biggest, fluffiest towel in there, but what the hell. I’m a pony, and may or may not be suffering total brain rewrite. If I want to look like a little, fluffy-white ghost running around underneath the towel, who the fuck is going to stop me?

With a silly feeling of elation, I levitate the towel onto my aquamarine back and canter down the stairs. The even clip-clop on the hardwood draws some angry barking from the dogs, confirming they’re down in the basement. In spite of their animal animosity, I feel strangely excited. I’ve never been in a swimming pool before, so this is an opportunity that—wait one fucking minute.

I find myself standing in front of the patio door, stuck on a thought. How is it that I’ve been living in this house with an above-ground pool and I haven’t once been in it? How could I have not been in a pool in my entire life, for that matter? Damn it! I’m Soren, not Lyra!

As much as I want to go right back over to the laptop and send Lyra an angry message for all the shit she’s gotten me into, I know it won’t do me any good. She didn’t know this would happen, even if she was without caution in causing it. Instead, I just open the door, trot out onto the deck, and down the stairs toward the pool deck.

I’m grateful for the convenience of leaving the gate propped open. I would not want to fuck with that latch if I could help it. Creeping out onto the pool deck, I finally notice that my mother is out here too, dozing on the air mattress afloat in the pool. I have to fight back a pang of jealousy. That air mattress is pretty damn comfortable, and more than once I myself have napped on it.

I drop my towel on one of the chairs. I’d consider jumping in, but I can’t imagine too many ladies would jump into a pool with their mane bound up in a bun. Not being able to see what I’m doing, it’s rather difficult to remove a scrunchy with telekinesis, especially when it often leads to vigorous tugs at my mane. I still get it done, and it feels nice to shake all of that hair in my mane free.

Still, as I look at the pool, I don’t hold much confidence in my swimming abilities as a pony. Lyra doesn’t seem to have been in a pool before, if that odd lapse in memory is any indication. Did Canterlot not have pools for swimming? Has she never been to a beach? Or was it just something that never interested her? Argh! Damn it, Lyra! Why does everything become complicated when you’re involved?

In a pool that is four feet deep, I hardly think I’m going to get by without some sort of floatation device. Lucky for me, we have a small inflatable ring floating in the pool for occasions when less skilled swimmers about my height are visiting. Too bad it’s on the far side of the pool. No matter; I’m a fucking unicorn! What point would there be to being a unicorn if I couldn’t just grab things with telekinesis? So that’s exactly what I do.

It only takes a second, and then the inflatable ring is sitting there at my hooves. Putting it on is another matter though. Having a horn on your head can have its disadvantages when it comes to dealing with inflatable objects, I assure you. I at least have the common sense to not take the head-on—apply directly to the forehead—approach. Instead, I find that it’s just as simple to step into it with my back legs, and levitate it up my body and over my flank. It’s a tight fit, but it works. I push it up until it’s wedged just behind my forelegs.

I trot back to the actual wooden fence surrounding the pool deck, and turn around to face the pool. With a giddy nicker, I gallop full-speed toward the edge of the pool before leaping into the air. Okay, so ponies can apparently jump pretty far. As a human, I can easily reach jump to the center of the pool, but I never would have expected the same from this smaller form. Still, as I let my flank take the brunt of the water-landing, I can tell that it’s exactly am.

Surprisingly, being small doesn’t prevent me from making a decent sized splash. It’s certainly enough to drench my napping sunbather of a mother. As I rise to the surface, I glance in her direction to catch a bit of a scowl. What do I care? I’m just glad I’m not sinking like a rock. Our golden retriever certainly doesn’t float, but he doesn’t have the sense to use an inflatable ring either.

“Aren’t you worried about being seen?” Mom asks grouchily. I don’t blame her for being upset. Last thing I want when napping is to be splashed with nice cool water.

“Nah,” I reply happily. God this water feels nice. I probably look goofy as hell, mostly on my belly in the water with the floatie practically vertical, but I don’t care as I kick my back hooves and move about in the pool. “The way I see it, there’s only a narrow band of the pool that can be seen at any one time, and even if anyone does glance in this direction they’re only going to have a momentary glimpse of my colors. I’ll probably just be confused for some sort of pool toy.”

“I see.” I’m pretty sure she caught the ‘I just don’t give a fuck’ attitude in my voice and decided not to press the issue. “Any news from the body snatcher? Any explanation given for the sleepwalking incident?”

I shake my head to remove my wet mane from my face, and then turn to look at Mom. “Well, I know she definitely had some fun at the party Pinkie Pie threw for her—some sort of ‘congratulations for kind-of achieving your dream’ deal, and don’t look at me that way, that’s just how Pinkie works—if a lack of memory regarding a good portion of last night is any indication.”

Out of the blue, I decide to test the abilities of the telekinesis. Imagining a bucket, I scoop up water into a large ball, and float it above the surface. It’s nowhere near stable, but it’s something at least. “As for the whole sleepwalking incident, Lyra apparently used to do that a lot when she was a filly,” I say, not taking my eyes off the ball of water. “She said it’s probably some sort of stress related muscle memory thing.” It’s a flat-out lie, and I know it.

I don’t know if the guilt of not telling Mom the truth distracted me or what, but suddenly there is a flaming ball of water floating above the pool. “Oh come on!” I grumble, releasing the telekinetic hold on the flaming water. Thankfully, it doesn’t spread when it hits the surface of the pool. Instead, it dissipates immediately, noticeably raising the pool temperature by a few degrees.

Mom continues to pry for information, but I really don’t want to get into this whole memory ‘restore from back-up’ thing that’s happening just yet. Call me stupid or say that it’s not fair to keep my family in the dark, but fuck! I’m still trying to sort all this out myself. I can let them worry a bit after I get my shit together.

Soon enough, Mom loses interest in prying teeth, and returns to her dozing. That’s not a bad idea, really. I’m feeling kind of tired from all this bullshit too. Maybe a little nap in the relatively cool water of the pool is exactly what I need to refresh my mind. Contented by my choice, I happily lower my eyelids and let my hind hooves touch the bottom of the pool. With the ring no longer being forced vertical, there’s more than enough space for me to rest my chin. Yes, this is shaping up to be the most interesting of weeks.

Author's Notes:

Re-edited 10 July 2017