It had been a couple of days since I submitted my citizenship papers and Mayor Mare had assured me that the process would be completed by the end of the week. In the meantime, I had been exercising and training with Rainbow, learning more about this world, and generally getting to know the locals and the lay of the land.

On this particular day, I was heading out to Fluttershy’s cottage. She had invited me there the day before and since I didn’t have anything better to do until tomorrow when I had my next scheduled appointment with Twilight, I gladly accepted. As I arrived at her cottage, I knocked on the door.

“Hello, Ranma, I’m glad you came. Come in, make yourself at home,” Fluttershy answered the door with a smile. Upon her invitation, I entered Fluttershy’s cottage for the first time. It was comparable to the one in the show, but the furniture was modified for Fluttershy’s bipedal body and it also contained a cheap television pressed up against one wall and what looked like a fairly high end computer against another.

“So, any particular reason you asked me to come over or did you just want to chat?” I asked as I took a seat.

“A little of both,” Fluttershy confessed as she moved over to the computer and turned it on, “You said the version of this world you were familiar with featured all of us as talking equines, right?”

“Yeah, all your fur and hair are the same colors, you’re just fully equine ponies,” I confirmed as Fluttershy pulled up an image and beckoned me over.

“Did we happen to look anything like this?” Fluttershy asked. I was deeply surprised to see on the screen a well done rendition of the Mane 6 done in a style that looked like a cross between Miyazaki and Obata Takeshi with a touch of unique style to tie the two together.

“A little closer to Western- er- Equestrian style animation, but otherwise they’re perfect. Where did you find this?” I asked and Fluttershy blushed and fidgeted slightly,

“I made it myself,” She answered, hiding her face behind her hair. “Taking care of forest critters and strays doesn’t pay a whole lot, and so most of my bits come from art commissions.”

“I can see why! This looks amazing, Fluttershy! Is this your only style or can you do other styles?” I asked eagerly, my eyes alight with wonder at her beautiful art. I have and will continue to have the highest respect for those who have the ability to make any kind of art.

“I can do many styles, but this is my comfort zone,” Fluttershy answered, wringing her hands nervously.

“I wish I could draw anywhere near this level,” I said slightly enviously.

“I’m sure you aren’t giving yourself enough credit,” Fluttershy said demurely, glancing at me through her hair.

“It’s a good day when I can draw a straight line. Dexterity was not one of my strong suits,” I shrugged, “Everyone’s got different things they’re good at and I accepted, more or less, that art of the non-written variety is beyond me.”

“That may have been true in your old body, but what about now?” Fluttershy asked and I froze. Shaky hands had plagued me whenever I held any kind of drawing tool. Not enough to be clinically significant, but enough to make my schoolwork look like illegible chicken scratches and any art I attempted to look amateurish at best. Would that carry over to my new form?

“I have no idea. Twilight’s the one who filled out my citizenship paperwork so I haven’t held any kind of writing or art utensil since I got to Equestria,” Fluttershy promptly pulled out a drawing pad and stylus. She held them out to me with a hopeful expression on her face.

“You won’t know unless you try,” She pointed out. Several emotions warred within me as I nervously licked my suddenly dry lips.

“I hate to make this sound like some kind of childhood trauma, because it isn’t, but I’ve kinda gotten used to the idea that I wouldn’t be able to draw. If I pick up that stylus and I still have trembling hands, it’s gonna hurt,” I said honestly.

“You’re going to have to pick up a pen or something sooner or later. Isn’t it better to get it out of the way now?” Fluttershy encouraged, her eyes in full doe mode now.

“And the thought would’ve never crossed my mind had someone not reminded me that with a new body there is a potential for new physical quirks and the loss of old ones,” I pointed out mulishly. I hated how hopeful the idea made me and I hated even more how afraid I was of that hope being extinguished. I grit my teeth and balled my fists and I steeled myself against the possibility of failure. I reached out for the stylus and pad.

“You’re going to be just fine; after all, fictional Ranma pulls off a bunch of stunts that wouldn’t be possible unless he had amazing dexterity,” Fluttershy assured me, placing her hands in her lap as she looked on. Then a thought occurred to me.

“Fluttershy, which hand is Ranma’s dominant one?” We looked each other in the eyes for a few moments.

“I…don’t think it’s ever stated?” Fluttershy said as she searched her memories to be sure.

“Given Genma being Genma, do you think he trained Ranma to be ambidextrous?” I wondered, still nervously gripping the pad and stylus. I don't know why I was treating the stylus like it might bite me, but treat it that way I did.

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Fluttershy answered honestly, twirling her hair with a finger, “Oh! I should probably move,” She got out of her chair and offered it to me. With a deep breath, I placed the pad on the table, took the stylus in my left hand which was my formerly dominant one, and sat down.

“So, how do I draw with this thing?” I asked, looking to my host, who was standing off to my right side.

“Right, how silly of me!” Fluttershy exclaimed. I choose to believe that she was simply unaware of what I was seeing and feeling as she bent over to set up the pad and program because I was in my female form, “You’re good to go!” She said happily as she returned to standing position, her hands behind her back. Something about her easy smile relaxed me as I turned my attention back to the pad and stylus.

With one last nervous dry swallow, I put stylus tip to pad. I already knew what I wanted to try and draw. One line. Two lines. Three lines. A perfectly acceptable equilateral triangle was now sitting on the screen of Fluttershy’s computer.

“Feck, I don’t know why it’s so beautiful, but I can’t help but think that it is,” I said. It was just a dumb triangle, yet I was getting so choked up over it. Fluttershy put a hand on my shoulder.

“Even something as simple as a triangle can be beautiful to the beholder,” Fluttershy said softly. I turned to look at her and saw a wistful sort of smile on her lips.

“Yeah, I’m just being an idiot,” I apologized, sheepishly rubbing my neck.

“No!” Fluttershy suddenly gained a surprising intensity, taking me by both shoulders and staring into my eyes. Then she realized what she just did and backed off a bit, “Sorry, it’s just, being happy you can draw now isn’t stupid. What made you want to draw?”

“Well, at first it was because I was just a kid who wanted to copy all the cool things I saw on TV. At that age no one really notices if your hand’s a little unsteady. You’ll grow out of it. As I grew older, my reason for drawing changed, but that slight instability never did. I wanted to draw because my imagination was overflowing! I had to share what I saw in my mind’s eye with someone or I was going to explode! Since I was unable to do the visual arts, I turned to the written word. There were definite pros and cons. I could wax philosophical without worrying about panels. However, when trying to describe something only I could see with my mind’s eye… I felt I had failed every time someone got the wrong idea or didn’t get it at all. I don’t regret becoming a writer. It’s brought a lot of good into my life. But there was always this thought in the back of my head ‘wouldn’t it be great if I could write and draw’. I guess it was eating at me more than I realized,” I chuckled weakly. Fluttershy leaned up against a wall and began talking.

“For me, my art was a way to escape. At first, it was intensely private, to the point I didn’t even show my parents my sketchbook. I could doodle cute little animals and have them go on picnics and things. I’m sure if my show counterpart is anything like I am; you know I wasn’t exactly the social butterfly Rainbow is. Ironic considering my Cutie Mark,” Fluttershy shook her head, “I’d just slip away into my art, oblivious to all the ponies around me. Of course, I couldn’t do that at flight camp and those rare moments I might have been able to draw were often plagued by bullies. I still have the sketchbook I used at night during flight camp, although it’s hard to see what exactly I was drawing through the dried tear stains.”

“That sounds really rough,” I said sympathetically. Fluttershy gave me a weak smile before continuing with her tale.

“I survived long enough for the Rainboom incident to happen, got my Cutie Mark, and moved to Ponyville. At first, I thought everything was perfect. I had animals who loved me and I loved them, this cottage that had been abandoned at the time, and I was able to draw the life around me unmolested. Then the bills started to come in. Mayor Mare really saved me at the time. She managed to convince the bureaucracy that I was a wildlife conservationist and I was paid a small stipend for my work. Unfortunately, it wasn’t quite enough to cover all my expenses. As the collection calls started, I was quite desperate. Desperate enough to try and make money from what I thought was just a silly hobby at the time. So I stayed up for a couple of nights making sure to put together a portfolio of my best work, borrowed my parent’s all-in-one printer, and sent my work in to some online art commission sites, and hoped for the best,” She let out a long sigh, as if feeling that stress all over again.

“Well, given what you’ve said and I’ve seen, you got picked up by someone,” I said, impressed with Fluttershy all over again.

“Not just someone, but a handful of those sites were willing to take me on as an artist and one of them was even willing to float me some bits in exchange for the rights to one of the works in my portfolio. It was terrifying to me that my work could be seen by anyone with a computer and an internet connection, but I comforted myself with the promise of anonymity. That’s changed over the years, of course, as my work gained some popularity and more requests started coming in. No one outside of my circle of friends and my family knows I’m the one who does the drawing, but over the past two years or so especially, I’ve grown more comfortable with the fact that I do have fans and I’ve even been known to host an art live stream from time to time,” Fluttershy giggled.

This was a fascinating side to Fluttershy that her show counterpart didn’t really have. Sure, show Fluttershy had her thing about sewing and depending on how canon the comics were that ‘Chamber of Extreme Knitting’ existed. However, this Fluttershy seemed to have a sort of quiet ease about her in regards to her art. In the comics, Fluttershy had been eternally frustrated by her own stress and anxiety over her creations. This was just my opinion, but comic Fluttershy seemed to have a love/hate relationship with her knitting. Ultimately I felt it caused her more stress than it cured. This Fluttershy was utterly in love with her art and felt safe pouring everything into it.

“Well, all this was really just a longwinded way of saying art is important to me and you shouldn’t call yourself an idiot for feeling the same way about your own art,” Fluttershy lightly scolded me, wagging her finger at me in a teasing manner.

“You’re right, of course. I’d call myself an idiot for not knowing that, but you’d probably give me another 15 minute sermon,” I joked and Fluttershy hid a chuckled behind her hand.

“I can teach you to draw, if you like,” Fluttershy offered.

“I would like that very much, but it’ll probably be a while before I can accept that offer with any seriousness,” I said regretfully, getting up out of Fluttershy’s chair.

“I understand and the offer’s open whenever you’re ready,” Fluttershy replied, calmly retaking her seat.

“Thanks, Flutters, you’re a sweetheart,” I said genuinely, favoring her with a heartfelt smile. Fluttershy blushed slightly and I sensed an opportunity, “Say, I’ve been wondering something since I found out you make art.”

“Yes, Ranma?” Fluttershy responded, her face the picture of innocence. It was a horrible thing I was about to do, but my devilish nature demanded it of me.

“How many Ranma lewds have you drawn?”

“And it’s so easy, when you’re evil~! This is the life, you see, the devil tips his hat to me~!” I had been singing Voltaire’s ‘When You’re Evil’ all the way to Twilight’s castle since leaving Fluttershy’s cottage. With my feminine voice it was entertaining to me to swap around the notes and cadence to make a decent sounding female cover. It had taken me a few tries, but by the time I was outside the castle doors, I was fairly satisfied with what I had.

I ate the bare minimum of dinner to truthfully claim I had, in fact, eaten, and skipped off to bed after my normal nightly routine. As I slept, I dreamed. This dream was a familiar one to me. One I had had often enough that I already knew I was dreaming as it began, yet was powerless to change the script.

I was in a trench dressed up as a WW I soldier in Nazi Germany, judging by the swastikas. My commander was dressed as a Union soldier from the American Civil War and making a speech in what sounded like French. To top off this strange mish mash of wars, I was holding a bb gun of all things. Oh, and my commander was Ash Ketchum for reasons I suspect only God Himself knows. The only change to the usual scenario that served only to make it even stranger was that I was in my female body.

“Quite the interesting dream you have here,” A voice next to me noted and I jumped, startled, and fell on my back clutching my bb gun for dear life.

“Don’t do that!” I shouted before realizing that I had been able to break the script of the dream.

“Don’t do what?” Luna asked coyly as she offered a hand to help me up. I took it and hoisted myself back to standing.

“You know what you did,” I grumbled and took a second to take in the appearance of the Princess of the Night.

Where her sister had perfected the ‘Queen of the Angels’ motif, Luna was rocking the ‘big titty goth gf’ look. A midnight blue hoodie with her Cutie Mark on the kangaroo pocket. Her pants were black jeans and her shoes seemed to be regular tennis shoes. Her casual clothes conflicted with her 'prim and proper' tone in a way I found delightful. You probably wouldn't even suspect she was a princess if not for her crown and the presence of both wings and horn. Thus she was infinitely more appealing to my sensibilities than her sister could ever hope to be. Some part of me appreciated how appropriate it was that I, a diehard Luna Republic citizen, would end up as a simp for Luna upon meeting the real thing in this world. The rest of me was scrambling to try and keep a civil conversation with the woman who, despite looking no older than I was, was at least a thousand years my senior, no matter how sexy I thought she looked.

“So, you are the one they call Ranma Saotome, are you?” Luna sized me up while keeping her hands in her kangaroo pocket. She walked around me, observing me from every angle. Suddenly I found myself in my male form and Luna repeated the process before returning me to female, “You are certainly a fit looking specimen of your kind.”

“Er, thanks, Princess Luna,” I said awkwardly, fidgeting slightly and my hands toying with the bb gun I held.

“You may call me Luna when we are alone. You are staying with Twilight and tantamount to the first representative of your kind, your entire world. My Sister also claims you have something of a sense of humor and it would be a shame to squander it under the weight of formalities,” Luna’s face and voice was completely serious as she stood there, gazing at me. But something in her eyes gave the impression she was taunting me.

“Whatever you say, Lulu,” I teased, perfectly willing to rise to her challenge.

“Would you mind telling us about this dream and how you’re finding Equestria thus far, you cheeky waif?” Luna asked conversationally.

“Unlike most you’d probably use that word on, I actually know what ‘waif’ means and I’m not homeless and there’s nothing ‘thin’ about these,” I gestured to my chest.

“Would you prefer mudlark?” Luna inquired.

“Still not a street urchin,” I crossed my arms under my chest and gave a challenging smirk.

“Very well, you have proven some small knowledge of insults, ragr,” Luna, for the first time, let a small smirk grace her face, matching my pose. I blinked a few times, trying to place the word Luna had just thrown at me.

“Yiddish? No, definitely not… Icelandic? I don’t think so… wait… was that an Old Norse word?” Luna’s smirk grew, letting me at least know I was on the right track. I’m not and will never claim to be a linguist, but if I had heard a language before I was able to guess other words in the language if spoke aloud. It also helped immensely if they were spoken correctly like I suspected Luna had. It was a trick my Yiddish speaking grandfather had taught me as he tried to get me to learn both Russian and German when I was younger. He failed, but the trick stuck with me and so did the habit of collecting random words from a bunch of random languages into my vocabulary. I've tried to keep it out of my recollections just for the sake of avoiding unneeded confusion. I can hardly go from calling Fluttershy 'bella ragazza' in Italian one sentence and then refer to the stylus in Yiddish as a 'פארשאלטן כייפעץ' in the next and expect everyone to follow along.

“Alright, I don’t know nearly enough Old Norse to even guess at the word. You win, Lulu,” I conceded.

“It’s a term used for someone to call a man effeminate,” Luna enlightened me, “Our own version of the Vikings used the word too, except in reverse. I have heard you come from a world that was originally patriarchal.”

“Well, at least the insult was accurate that time. Can’t get more effeminate than literally turning into a girl,” I shrugged, “You ever think how weird it is that we all speak the same language that comes from a similar linguistic background?”

“Given the forces we’re dealing with and lack of clear motive, it’s entirely possible you were purposefully placed in this Equestria with a similar linguistic heritage just to laugh at us as we question that very fact,” Luna shrugged, instead looking out over my mishmash battlefield while leaning up against the dirt walls of the trench, “So, the battlefield?”

I explained to her the circumstances of this particular reoccurring dream and she grew thoughtful. As she thought she placed a finger over her mouth, as if trying to keep her thoughts from spilling out before she was ready to share them. Since this was a dream and her realm besides, I was under the impression that she could give herself as much time as she wanted to think it over. I don’t know how much of that thought was fandom leaking in and how much was accurate to the show and as my earlier encounter with Fluttershy proved, those around me may sound and look like their pony counterparts and even have similar personalities, they aren’t the same and likely neither are their abilities an exact 1 to 1.

“Truthfully, I do not know how comparable pony psychology or indeed the psychology of any Equestrian is to your own. Under other circumstances, I would assume your dream was simply a manifestation of the fear and anxiety you feel for being kidnapped from your home and placed here in Equestria without even your body staying constant. Yet this is a dream you’ve had for several years, always the same. Do you remember any events immediately preceding the genesis of this dream?” Luna asked, one ear cocked to the side while the other remained upright.

“Unfortunately not, as at first I assumed it was just another one of those dreams I have where I remember all the details for no particular reason, so didn’t make note of it until it repeated for the 4^th time. Could I show you a standout dream I had directly before this one started? Maybe that could help shed some light?” I suggested. I already had a fair idea as to the source of this dream, but it never hurt to hear the thoughts of a professional so I decided to let her draw her own conclusions untainted from my input.

“I don’t think it can hurt. This is your dream, so you can change it, but I can also assist you if need be,” Luna offered.

“I think it’s best if you help, I don’t know what works and what doesn’t in Equestria’s Dream Realm, so rather than me bumbling about for however long it takes to figure it out, let’s get straight to the point. How will this work? Will you root around in my mind for the dream?” I asked with a slight twinge of worry in my voice. I had things in my head I didn’t want anyone to see. I took a defensive stance with my arms under my chest.

“Nothing so barbaric, I assure you,” Luna replied, her hands opened in a classic ‘I’m not armed’ way made to calm someone, “Simply think of the dream and I will be able to skim it off the top of your mind, as it were.”

“Alright, here it goes,” I cast my mind back to the dream. It was one I’ll probably remember for the rest of my life. It had been…enlightening to say the least. Luna imposed her will upon the dream and it changed. It wasn’t a particularly long dream. There was a teen girl and a handsome reaper, with a scythe on his back, hopping from rooftop to rooftop with a large full moon silhouetting the pair as they ran. They weren’t running from anyone or away from each other, simply enjoying the thrill of their rooftop run and laughing all the way. Soon, the pair descended to street level with its cobblestone streets and alleys.

“Thanks Sammy, it was fun, as always,” The girl said happily. Given the heavy shadowing, it was nearly impossible to make out anything other than the fact she was a girl. The same went for her companion, no features except a slightly masculine frame.

“It’s the company that makes it fun, Natsuki,” Sammy seemed to grin at the girl and then leaned down to kiss her. It was a horribly overblown affair, the pale moon illuminating the kiss, rose petals from nowhere fluttering about in an ethereal breeze, all that. Then the dream ended. Even if was a dream and I had never been kissed before that and still hadn’t had my first kiss, I couldn’t help but imagine that all kisses must be like the one I felt in that dream. The soft feeling of his lips on mine...

Yes, in this dream, my role had been that of Natsuki. I was 13 at the time and you can imagine I woke up with a very confused boner and the ghost impression of the kiss on my lips. That was the beginning of a number of years of very frustrating, less corporeal dreams and trying to rationalize away the fact my dreams portrayed me as a straight or bi girl more and more often.

I won’t discuss yet what finally triggered my breakdown and acceptance of my nature as a bisexual gender fluid, but I certainly wasn’t in a healthy headspace when the war dreams started up.

When the dream wrapped up, Luna cast a sideways glance at me. I think she was trying to get a read from my body language if she could defuse the tension with a joke or if I needed this to be handled with absolute seriousness. I guess some facet of her Dream Walking ability allowed her to tell what role I had played in the dream. Else she had simply seen enough of these types of dreams to make an educated guess.

“It’s not often I meet someone who is aware of the source of their troubled dreams yet continues to have them,” Luna noted offhandedly.

“I’ve always been the introspective sort. Sadly, just because I understand what’s going into the feelings that cause the dream doesn’t mean I was able to control the external influences,” I noted, holding my hands behind my back as I stared at the frozen scene of the kiss. Luna tilted her head in acknowledgement.

“Indeed, just because I was aware my jealousy was eating at me, that did not make it any less potent when the Nightmare overtook me,” Luna agreed, looking past the kissing figures and at the moon itself, her hands buried in her kangaroo pocket and her wings unfolded and almost limp behind her.

“Which is better, knowing what causes your pain and being unable to fix it or suffering under some unknown affliction? What is scarier, the monster we see or the ones we create for ourselves in our imaginations?” I waxed philosophical, stepping closer to what once was my dream self, trying to parse any details I had missed in the original dream. Yet all I saw was a shadowy and vaguely feminine figure.

If when I had this dream I had known where my life would lead me…I like to pretend it would’ve saved me a lot of heartache, but I know full well my anguish would have just found a new source sooner and the wait for my departure to Equestria would have made the torment both better and worse.

“I’m glad we had this discussion. It’s allowed me to get some of my thoughts in order that I hadn’t truly realized were in disarray,” I said gratefully to the Lunar Diarch, nodding my head in her direction.

“I can sense there are still a great many things bothering you, but I shall not pry. However, I think I would very much like to get to know you better and one day perhaps you shall open up to me of your own volition,” Luna said with a note of hope in her voice, her wings fluffing a bit.

“I look forward to being close enough friends with someone to speak my mind with them and not fear the repercussions. Maybe that friend will even be you, Luna. You’ve already made a good first impression, using obscure words with me. I would also like to see where further interaction takes us,” I said as I walked up to Luna and stuck out my hand, “To the future?”

“To the future,” Luna shook my hand and the dream began to fall apart as I started waking, “I hope to see you again soon, you troglodyte.”

The dream ended before I could refute being called a cave dweller or protest that the ‘old fashioned’ label probably fit her better than it did me even if I had just offered a handshake of friendship.

Why is this chapter a good 1000 words longer than the previously longest chapter? Why did it take me so long to type this? Why is Ranma such a mess?

Well, I'm prepared to answer one of these, at least.

The reason it took me so long to write this was because I've been heavily distracted from my writing recently. If you want the whole story it's in the author's notes of Shattered Souls, but basically my insomnia has been worse than ever and the days kinda started bleeding together until I noticed it was the first of October and I had to finish this chapter asap.

I'm quite fond of what I've done with Fluttershy's character thus far. I'd like to hear feedback on her, if at all possible.

Also, yes, I do tend to slip in random words from languages around the world into my dialogue if I'm not paying attention and I'm with people who already know me. I'm told it's quite hilarious to hear me suddenly spit out a string of Russian words in an American Southern accent. It's even funnier for me when they realize the only language I speak fluently is English, for a given value of "fluent".

I also admit I had to look up the actual Yiddish spelling for 'Cursed Object'.