Millie

I opened my eyes, blinking at the sunlight and staring at the blue sky above. Other than maybe exhibiting the clear weather, the view didn’t tell me anything of great importance. And then I saw a pegasus.

Blinking in surprise, I tracked the flying pony with my eyes. Turning my head, I checked the area around me. I was lying on a public bench next to a busy street. Brightly colored ponies were everywhere, going about their business. There were a few pony-pulled carriages, but no cars. None of the ponies paid me any mind, as I looked just like one of them.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. I was in Equestria. Again.

I suppose it wasn’t as bad as the first time I showed up there. At least the second time around, I knew where I was. I also knew there was a way of going home. I sat up, frowning in thought. Exactly how to return home was a blank spot in my memory, along with what had brought me here a second time.

There was one thing I understood very well, however. My wife was going to be worried sick. The last time, my little trip had nearly gotten our wedding canceled for lack of a groom.

Glancing around, I didn’t immediately recognize my location. I was familiar with Canterlot, but this place looked different. The architecture appeared slightly more modern, with greater use of glass and steel. The buildings overall were taller, almost verging on skyscrapers.

Sighing, I started to get up. Might as well get the body shock over with. I rolled off the bench. I knew that four legs would require an adjustment period, but I never expected those appendages to be shorter and pinker than I remembered. I stared at my hooves with a frown on my face. So…did I just randomly get assigned a new bodily form each time I visited? This was one hypothesis I wasn’t in a hurry to prove.

I began to struggle out of my clothing. The garments had made the trip with me, but hadn’t been changed like I had. A human t-shirt, jeans, and work boots did not fit pony-me. The air was somewhat chilly, but I figured I could stand it. Last time I visited, learning to go about naked had taken some getting used to.

There were a few things in my pockets. A wallet, keys, and pocket knife. Thinking hard about it, the last thing I remembered before getting pony-converted this time was being at home in the process of breakfast. That explained why I didn’t also have my cell phone; I hadn’t picked it up from the charger by the front door. Not that the phone would have done me much good in a place without signal towers.

I opened my wallet and glanced at the driver’s license inside- James Miller, Baltimore. Sighing, I put the wallet in a small pile on the bench with the rest of my things. I wondered how long it would be until I would have the face on the license again. Reluctantly, I checked the rest of my body. Might as well get used to it if I was going to be here for a while.

So very pink. My entire coat was a shade slightly more annoying than bubble gum. Brushing a hoof over my shoulder, I found a mane of reasonable length and steel blue in color. Twisting my body to get a good look at my hip, I spotted a cutie mark that featured a hammer crossed with a ruler. It wasn’t the same one I’d had last time, but it seemed still relevant to my skills.

My eyes drifted from the cutie mark, taking in the unfamiliar shape of my body. If I didn’t know any better, I would think…

I checked between my hind legs and immediately regretted it. A panicked female voice coming from my throat muttered a surprised explicative, which turned into several more as I heard myself.

Sitting down seemed like a good idea. I backed towards the bench, folding my legs beneath me. My contorted spine reminded me that I was no longer bipedal, and I slumped sideways into a more comfortable position.

Slowly getting over the shock of unwanted gender manipulation, I realized that I didn’t have wings. Wow, my life must really have taken a strange turn if not possessing feathers surprised me. To be fair, the last time I was a pony—a stallion pony—I’d been a pegasus.

Well, that left two other options for race. I reached up to my forehead, careful not to knock my hooves into anything sensitive. I swear, if Earth-horses had eyes this large, they’d have all kinds of trouble.

My hoof encountered something protruding from where the forelock of my mane sprouted. It was a horn. Well then, that was one mystery solved.

I’d managed to figure out how to fly, so hopefully magic wouldn’t be too difficult to learn. I was a little annoyed that whoever or whatever brought me back to Equestria decided to change up my pony form, but I had to admit the topic of magic did sound interesting.

I leaned forward and concentrated on my wallet. Merely exerting mental effort did not get it to move. I tried tipping my head to point the horn more directly at it. Imagining an invisible hand picking up the wallet didn’t work. Neither did muttering made-up magic words under my breath.

Well, maybe try again later. I bundled up my clothing, trying to package it so it would stay together. From what I’d read in Equestrian libraries, unicorns did not have as much natural dexterity in their hooves because they simply didn’t need it. I tried to figure out how I was going to carry the bundle of clothing. Eventually I just made a loop out of my trouser legs and put it around my neck.

I started walking with no destination in mind. I wondered where my next meal would come from. I had no Equestrian money. On my previous visit, I’d found a job at a fabrication shop. It was a good place to take advantage of my talent for designing and building, which was how I was employed on Earth.

Looking around again, I tried to figure out where I was. There were no familiar landmarks. I suspected this wasn’t Canterlot, but that didn’t narrow things down very much.

I had a sudden panicked thought. What if I wasn’t here at the same point in Equestrian history? What if this modernish city was the result of decades of progress?

Fortunately, those fears were quelled as I passed a newspaper dispenser. Squinting through the window on the front, I saw the date on the paper’s tagline was only about three months after I had left Equestria. More importantly, the title was Manehattan Downtown.

So, Manehattan. I didn’t know anything about the place, or if it shared more than just a similar name with a particular human settlement. It did seem to have a large population, if the crowded sidewalks were any indication.

I took stock of my situation. Based on previous experience, I was practiced at walking four-legged, had a basic understanding of how Equestria worked, and knew to say things like “anypony.” On the other hoof, I was in a strange city and had no idea how to be a unicorn or a mare.

Okay, so I wasn’t completely screwed, just partially. The larger, overarching problems were Why am I here a second time? and Why can’t I remember how to go home?

I knew that this wasn’t my fault, at least. The first time, it had been exceedingly powerful and/or experimental magic responsible for my inter-universe transit, but when I tried to push my mind for more details like who, what, and how I drew a blank. I’d spoken to a few ponies connected with the School for Gifted Unicorns in Canterlot and had been happy that they’d found a way to send me home, but everything after that was hazy.

The obvious solution was to get myself to Canterlot and talk to those same ponies again. However, I couldn’t fly there and couldn’t afford a train ticket. I’d gotten to know a few ponies in Canterlot, and maybe they would be kind enough to lend me money. The problem was, I had no way of asking them. Telephones and wire transfers did not exist.

I frowned. A telegraph, maybe? They had steam trains, so maybe passing a simple Morse Code telegram was possible. Would I have to pay for sending the message? This was not going to be simple at all.

Then again, maybe I would get lucky. I mean, if the universe dumps you in a completely different world, twists your species and your masculinity, and doesn’t even bother to give you a nice guidebook, karma has to eventually turn around and start working for you.

I froze in my tracks, staring at a flyer stapled to a light pole. DJ PON3 tonight! Rave Beatz electronic club, 220 Park Street

It was an unbelievable piece of good fortune. Vinyl Scratch, stage name DJ PON3, had been my neighbor in Canterlot. All I had to do was convince her that I was the same alien she’d gotten to know and then ask for her help.

Well dang, if the universe was going to be so accommodating, I couldn’t very well turn it down. I glanced skyward. “I wish for a bacon cheeseburger.”

Nothing happened. I grumbled. I hated going to rave shows hungry.

Author's Notes:

Hello, and welcome to Millie. If you're unfamiliar, this is a sequel to Miller. I'll try not to make the learning curve too steep. I'll also try to limit myself to one or two new chapters per week.

My editor for this project is Treilacl, who is awesome enough to actually print this stuff out and edit it by hand.

Please enjoy.