Another You
IC date: Autumn 63, 1007
OOC date: November 21, 2012
PCs: Stormdancer, Ginger-Spice
NPCs: Trail-Ration
GM: None

All the new ponies milling about the harbour, all those 'frozen wasteland' ponies, would be one would imagine good for bussiness. So far? Not so much, most of them seemed to dumbfounded by the day/night cycle, the sun, the greenery and the fact everypony walked around in the nude rather than bundling up to be good customers. Neither did they seem to have any bits. In fact, they almost had nothing. All in all, by the standards of a pony grown up in Celestia's Equestria, they were a sorry bunch.

And when you have a sorry bunch, you inadvertedly have somepony that tires offer a helping hoof.

Ginger-Spice was leaning around a corner - only her red and orange tailed backside sticking out on the streets - watching at the makeshift tents thrown up on a plot of grass. Lying next to her was several large bundles; non-perishable foodstuff, water, fruits, spice and changes of clothes for those unwilling to strip down out of their thermal ware. By the looks of it she'd been intent on hoofing the lot of it over, though something's left her standing at the corner and shifting from hoof to hoof uncomfortably.

Well, at least somepony's in the mood for commerce, if Stormdancer's bulging saddlebags are any indication. Or had been, at any rate, considering she's heading away from the market district. She's back to wearing her older cloak- old, but still probably better than what some of the poor souls across the way have. She's holding a list out in front of her with her wingtips, muttering over it… and not spotting the red and orange tail she's about to step on.

As expected from a setup like that, something silly winds up happening. "Ouch!" exclaimed Ginger-Spice as Stormdancer, stepped on her tail, managing to pull it in the process. Panicy, leg-flailing backing up ensude. Straight into Stormdancer's much distracted face.

"Wh- AWP!" is all Stormie manages to get out as the flail-y unicorn knocks her backwards, going down in a tangle of limbs, paper, and cloth that embroils the both of them in a brief ball of chaos. Once things calm down, the pegasus peers at the other pony through a large rent in the former list, grinning shamelessly. "Oh, heya, Spicey! 'f ya wanted ta get 'tween m' legs 'gain, ya only had ta ask~", she finishes with a lilt.

Ginger-Spice's muzzle scrunched up for a moment as she spat out Stormdancer's tailhairs, rubbing her tounge with her fetlock. Craning her neck around she gave Storm a somewhat puzzled look, once she's swated the cloth hanging over her head away. "Uh, of course. Sorry Stormy! I'll remember that next time I want too." She had no idea when that would be though. It's not as if she was a tail-stylist. "Um… Do you think you could shift your head a bit? I'm… kinda thicklish, and your ear on my stomach's kinda worrying…"

Stormdancer tilts her head, convienently in exactly the wrong direction. "This any better?" And, well, they weren't twitchy before, but yanno, soon as somepony mentions something like that, it's just bound to happen. "Think th' flour broke our fall, tha's a plus!" The outside of the pony-pretzel -does- look a bit like it's been finely sugared.

Ginger-Spice bites her lip, though it's far to late. She bursts out giggeling loudly, bringing about another bout of wild flailing as she extracts herself from the heap of limbs. She does so with a soft 'plop'-sounding… sound, does a one-eighty and crashes onto her back, more or less ear-to-ear with Stormdancer. Still giggeling. "I… I s-s-said I'm thi-thi-thicklish! Don't g-go thickle me then!"

Stormdancer fights to keep a smirk off her face. She tries, she really does! But a giggly Ginger doesn't help matters any. "I didn'- *snerk* -try- ta-" The pegasus -very carefully- pulls her wings in, almost making a show of how they are -not- going to tickle the other mare. "Though it -is- temptin'," she admits.

Ginger-Spice boped Stormdancer on top of her head with a hoof, though by no means harshly, fighting to keep the smile of her own muzzle. "S-so… Wha' brings ye here…? Um… shopin'?" she asked as she picked herself onto her hooves, looking at the stuff strewn around.

Stormdancer briefly puts on a pout, before bouncing back to a grin- and her feet, sending up a small dustdevil of flour. "Aye! Restockin' after Arcee's lil' 'welcome back' party for 'er friends cleaned us outta near ev'rythin' edible 'n the house." She nods towards the encampment of the Wasteland ponies, expression falling, genuinely this time. "'f they're anythin' ta go by, these ponies ain't had a decent cooked meal in a long while- if eve'."

Ginger-Spice nods, though if anything her expression takes on a very nervous cast as she turned to look at the camp. "Aye… I'm doin' my best to help out, but… it's kinda unervin'…"

Stormdancer fluffs her saddlebags a bit and holds them open with her wings, putting a sack of now-bruised fruit back in. "'ow so?" she gets out around the netting, continuing to recover her prizes.

"'Er," came the answer and Ginger-Spice leveled her hoof at a pony, currently seeming in the process of dishing out supplies and food to the other-world ponies. The pony in particular… looked strikingly much like Spice. Creepily so in fact! Her colouration was a bit off, a bit more mate, and her mane was cut into a short, neatly cared for bob compared to Spice's wild growth, and a big scar cut through the freckles of her muzzle. The young mare was also wearing one of the typical thermal suits, though open all the way down.

Stormdancer blinks. "What's wrong with-" She breaks off, squinting at the pointed-at pony, before looking back to Ginger. Then back again, and forth once more. "… Ya got a twin sister! Why didn' ya say so 'afore?" She adds the last with a grin, before tilting her head curiously. "Ya ain't on good terms with 'er, then?"

"I donnae have one! That ain't no sister o' mine… She's from tha' other place, where all o' 'em is from!" whinnied Ginger-Spice, her usualy cheery grin repalced by a small frown. "'Nother world, 'nother place where other stuff 'appened… I… think she's me… maybe… Sorta? I'm scarred fo' goin' and askin' 'er thou'… What if she is an' meetin' 'er will make reality come to a premature end!"

Stormdancer blinks once. Twice. Tilts her head back the other way, chewing on her lower lip. Her tail flips from side to side. "Huh. Now tha' -is- a question. 'ow would Arcee deal with thi'…" She ponders for a few moments longer, before popping her head up with a grin. "I got it!" The blue mare starts pulling off her saddlebags, lowering them to the ground.

Ginger-Spice let out a relieved sigh. "Goo'… Um… What did ye get?"

Relieved of her burdens, Rising Chaos's assistant starts trotting over to the refugee camp, calling back over her shoulder at Ginger. "Don' move, I'mma do some Science!" She even manages to pronounce the capital S!

The gingerbread brown mare nodded nervously, once again shifting from hoof to hoof. So, though Spice, this is what dredd feels like?

As soon as Stormdancer heads into camp she almost instantly find herself surounded by a small crowd of colts and fillies, all seeming more than a little eager to see what's up with -this- sun-world pony. For her part, the the alternate-Spice doesn't even seem to pay her any attention, already occupied with getting a campfire working, a big pot filled with water and… Is she cooking? Guess a few things are the same everywhere…

Stormdancer grins and ruffles the manes of some of the nearest foals as her pace slows dramatically, leaving her shuffling through the herd. "'ey there, kiddos-" she starts off cheerfully, before before 'AWP!'-ing and lifting her wings above the crowd. "Oi, careful! Those're sensitive!" And so, surrounded by a herd of innocent foals, wings spread, and wearing a cloak that could pass as (and probably is) military surplus, the blue pegasus reaches out to tap the Wasteland cook on the side with one hoof. "'ey, cook-mare, got a sec?"

"Cook-mare…? How many time must I tell you ponies, my name is Trail-Rat…ion…" said the mare as she spun around to face Stormdancer. Her voice is deffinatly gruffer, reminiscent more of spiced wine and krackers rather than Spice's honey and gingerbread, and she sounds a -lot- less cheery. In fact, she seems to become even less so, her already frowny face lighting up in suprise for a moment before going straight into hostility moode. "You!?" And there she went, turning away from Stormy again. Very quick too… and planting her forehooves firmly on the ground, kicking up, legs coiling… Well, buck it. Both methaporicaly and litteraly in a moment.

It's lucky for Stormie that an encounter with a certain Pink Menace has convinced her to get back into training- Though unlucky that it's only been what, a week, if even? She rears back, forelegs crossed to block- and that's as far as she gets before the impact flips her over backwards, landing plot-over-teakettle amid the rapidly scattering foals. The wind's knocked right out of her, leaving her too dazed to get back to her hooves for the next few moments.

The frozen wastes mare seems to have no problem, already pouncing onto Stormdancer to hammer down at her with her hooves. Up close and personal, she seems a lot stronger than Spice, and a lot more muscular. Which, if even half of the stories one hear around town is true, kind makes sense if one gives it though. Who can live in a ever-frozen pit of Tartarus without thoughen up, after all?

Stormdancer gets clocked a good one upside the muzzle before she can curl up defensively, soaking up the flurry of blows on her legs. "Oi, stobbit!" A half roll to one side helps her swing one wing up and around to try and cuff the other mare in the head- /Need to knock her off, get back up! Owowow-/

The blow is enough to stagger Trail Ration, sending her stumbling of to the side. And right into a quickly approaching and very worried looking Ginger-Spice who gasps in shock as they make contact and go down in a rather compromising pile of legs. It seems to be a tallent they both share!

On the bright side, Spice's worry for an iminent destruction of reality when coming into proximity of herself is soundly dissproven as she find her, or rather Trail's, tail stuffed firmly in her mouth. That's good, right?

Stormdancer rolls back the other way, popping up to her hooves and skipping sideways for a couple short hops, before slowing down and looking over at the two unicorns. "'anks Spice'," she gets out, before giving a big *SNFFFFF* and rubbing at her nose with one fetlock, leaving a lil' purplish smear on her fur. "'ot 'at ah 'as 'ryin' fo', 'ut see? Na 'oom!" Of -course- the bloody nose would combine with her accent to leave her neigh-incomprehensible.

Ginger-Spice groaned, then spat. What was it with her and tails today? Raising a head she turned towards Stormdancer and giving her a very curious look. "Wha' did ye say…? Oh, are ye okey?"

Of course, she's not the only gingerbread brown mare talking, though Trail sounds angry rather than concerned. "Get off me you oaf!" she shouted and pushed Spice off her, the native unicorn landing on her face with a addorable little 'oof'. "You… you! When I get up I'll tear your wings off and stuff them so far up your plot-hole you'll be spitting feathers!" It's a good thing, then, that Trail can't seem to untangle her rear-legs from Spice's.

Stormdancer backs up and braces herself, both wings swept back in case she needs to swat an unruly unicorn again. "'at's 'our -'oblem-?!" She shakes her head and hacks, making a face at the sensation involved with spitting up her own blood. "Why're ya on such ragin' -tear-, whatwazit- Trails?" She lifts a hoof to give a wave at Ginger, but her eyes stay locked on the pony intent on doing species reassignment surgery on her tender self.

Trail Ration growled at Stormdancer. "I knew it wasn't safe! I knew it, and here you are… Shadowbolt! I won't let you hurt anypony, I'll beat you just like last time!" Oh hey, is her horn glowing?

"I ain't gonna-" Stormie shouts back, before- Oh, glowing? She spits out a Gryphish oath, charging and jinking at the unicorns, trying to get within hoof's reach of Trail. "Spicey! Disrupt 'er!" Never mind that the peaceable cook might not even know what the hay she means by that!

Ginger-Spice blinks in confusion. "What?"

As for Stormie, it's a good thing she did as several large, heavily implements fly past where she stood a moment before. Trail Ration actualy seems a bit suprised, that had worked the last time… Most ponies forget to check for dangers they can't see after all! Actualy, she seems so putt of by it she doesn't quite manage to get a hold of anything else before Stormdancer's almost upon her. And even then it's only a stick… that floats up at about fetlock-height, right between the charging pony and the dimensional duplicate unicorns.

Stormdancer sees it, sure, but on the ground, she just can't kill her momentum nearly as well as she could were she flying. "Aw, hay," she complains, before doing another involuntary crash and roll…

At a bowling alley in Manehatten, a greasy-looking pony hoofpumps as he scores a strike. From nearby, a flunky cheers him on. "Nice goin', Boss! Ya moidered 'em!"

Two near-identical voices groaned in unison. Why did this always happen to them?! Trail spat out the blue and yellow tail-hair out of her mouth, recalling the last time she'd had this particular mare's tail in her face. Actualy, that time she'd bitten it and janked hard, it was the one thing that'd come to her dizzy brain to do at the point, pluss it'd be hard to look for a better option with the blood in her eyes.

Ginger-Spice on her part blinked in suprise as she found herself muzzle-to-muzzle with Stormdancer. "'Ello 'gain," she groaned. "Dun' ye two thin'… tha' maybe we can talk this over…? Please? I'm gettin' kinda tired o' bein' all tangled up…"

A frustrated, "Agreed," came from Trail.

Stormdancer groans a bit in agreement, trying to wriggle her way out of the ponypile. "Poppa Flight a'ways -did- warn us 'bout tanglin' with twins," she adds. "What's- *ng* -all this 'bout Shadowboltin' an' las' time an' huh? Norm'ly I get more'n a sentence 'fore anypony tries kickin' m' face in!"

"Shadowbolt! The Queens pegasi - oof - soldiers… You're one!" grunted Trail Ration as she managed to pull a hoof free from… somewhere. "Or… at least you were… The you from where I come from…"

"There's anothe' me ou' there?" Stormdancer sounds a bit surprised, then snorts before giving a little 'hup' to get her wing out from under somepony. "Tha' Queen musta had 'er some low standards." She pauses, looking thoughtful. "… Though, s'pose if I 'adn't gotten sloshed with th' diplomancer an' that Gryph prince, I coulda been a scout more'n a couplea years." A silly, wistful smile settles on her face. "- But 'specially when 'is bodyguards joined in…"

Blink, blink. "What does that have to do with anything?" asked Ginger-Spice, managing to drag her upper body out of the pile.

"It means she's a big s- ouch! Watch the hoof!" grumbled Trail Ration.

Stormdancer looks over her shoulder at Trail, sticking her tongue out at the mare. "Nyeh! Yer just jealous," she adds with a tail-flick in that general direction, before squirming and tumbling free. "So! 'Verse don't go 'splodey if two doubles git ta touchin'. 'ave ta remember ta tell Arcee that, 'cause she were wonderin'."

Trail-Ration blinked and turned her head. "Why would it? That only happens when two of… the.. Oh." She blinked, actualy laying her eyes on… well… herself for the first time. After several long moments her muzzle scrunched up. "I… look like that…? You're my… self here…?" Silence. "I'm a bit dissapointed, really…"

"Oi!"