//------------------------------// // Chapter II // Story: Discord and Co., Entreprise of Evil // by The Diplomat //------------------------------// Chapter II Ronald Winston awoke as the first rays of sunshine violently struck his face through the blinds of his window. With a grunt, he got out of bed. It was only eight in the morning, but the sun was already shining at full power on this mid-summer's day. Gingerly, he walked to the kitchen. He wore a purple velvet dressing gown, and slippers that he had to say were very comfortable. But these comforts did not help the baron's mood, which showed through his wild morning hair and the creased features on his sleep deprived face. Clearly he was in a foul mood. Then again he was on most mornings, and it was best no one was there to witness him like this. He strolled lazily to the kitchen sink, filling up a kettle with water, and setting it on its electric base to boil. He looked out the window while he waited. There lay the part of the city that was most familiar to him, in a different light, that of morning. There weren't many Celestians out in the streets yet. At this time of year, most of them had the luxury of staying in bed all day if they wanted to, either out of fatigue, or simply to cure hangovers. The baron had never experienced a hangover himself. It was not a common thing to experience for a man such as him, used to much more mundane parties than most people, with different drinking habits. The drinks he sipped on those occasions were cheap, to his standards, but would make a beggar man weep. While standing in a group of exquisite guests, a champagne flute in hand, he would keep a polite smile to indicate he was listening to whatever fancy drivel he was hearing, and wonder if this was what "totally wasted" meant. The familiar stream of vapor spewing from the kettle indicated that the water was ready. Winston turned around from his window daydream and put some powdered coffee in a mug, before pouring the steaming water inside. He enjoyed the vivifying smell of the drink as its fumes hit his nostrils, anticipating a nice hot drink to warm him up from the cold of leaving his bed. He lifted the mug to his lips and took a small sip. It was enough to send blissful heat down his throat. Satisfied, he went to the bathroom, to freshen up a bit for the day ahead, taking the coffee mug with him. Even though nothing important was to happen today. He proceeded to fix his hair, and carefully groom it, setting all the curls back in place. While he did this, he noticed something about his face; it was visibly clearer. Of course he had the best treatment products to get rid of nasty pimples and such, but this new cream he had bought was really working out. He smiled as pleasant surprise took over his morning grumpiness, and opened a cabinet to his side to grab the bottle of that miraculous spot cream. Perhaps today isn't going to be such a bad day after all, he thought. It's not so bad having nothing to do. Besides, it's still summer. Today I can just lay back in the sun, in peace and tranq-- "Lookin' good there, m'lord!" yelled a voice in his ear. His reaction was instantaneous. In a choked yelp, the baron's mind went blank, and instinctively he ducked as if he had heard gunshot. Doing so his mug fell and crashed in the sink, sending a wave of searing black coffee on his robe and hands. He shot upwards, arching his back, scrunching his eyes, and gritting his teeth in pain as he clasped his scalded hands hard. He then wriggled his whole frame vigorously, yelling out words that were not for the ears of fillies and colts. It was only a few seconds afterwards that the baron had the sense to spin around and witness the surprising intruder. He thought he would faint from what he saw. Before him, stood a tall, indescribable creature. He'd seen many different creatures in the past, having at one point visited the Saint-Celest Zoo where they exposed hippos and manticores alike. But never had he seen a beast like this one. It was a collage of different animals of all kinds, organized in a chaotic manner across its body. And yet somehow, it gave off a humanistic feel, as it looked at him with large yellow eyes and piercing red pupils. It was unfazed, but had a malicious smile on its face, revealing a single stray tooth that shot out from the corner of its lips. It looked like the product of an orgy with a few creatures from the zoo that had gone horribly wrong. There was a moment of silence as the creature made no move, giving the human time to comprehend as much as possible what was in front of him. "You seem surprised," it said. After a while of collecting his breath and staring intensely at the strange creature, Winston spoke. "W-Who are you...?" he said. He surprised himself by choosing the word 'who'. "I am Discord," said the beast casually. "And what I am is a Draconequus." "Right," said the baron. He didn't understand, but he didn't know what to say either. "Now, I'm sorry I had to startle you like that," said Discord, walking towards the kitchen and passing the frightened baron who give him space to move by pressing his back to the wall as much as he could. "But I had to make my presence known to you somehow." "Well you could have, oh I don't know, met me up front in the living room like a normal person?" said the baron, raising his voice. Discord gave him an unimpressed, quizzical look. "Do I look like a normal person to you?" he asked in a rhetorical fashion. The baron didn't answer. "Besides," continued Discord in a matter-of-fact tone, "it's what I do. You look like an educated man, surely you know the meaning of 'Discord', don't you? Do you mind if I make myself some coffee?" he said, already pouring steaming water into another cup. Winston was about to comment on the random switch from one question to another that Discord had made, but he decided against it. The Draconequus had in a way implied that such things were to be expected of him, as unpredictable as he seemed. Besides, the baron figured there were more important things to discuss. Now that he had regained a little composure, he decided to take control of the situation. "Yes I would mind, actually," he said sternly. "This is my home, and you're not exactly a guest here! So before you treat yourself to my coffee, you will explain to me carefully who you are and why you are here!" Discord set his mug down and lifted his head a little. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, reminiscent of someone in a trance. He then sniffed the air and spoke, slowly and softly. "I can smell the anxiety, the lack of confidence in your voice," he said. He opened his eyes and looked at the baron with another cheeky grin. "It's delicious!" he chimed. Winston said nothing, and just stared at Discord in total confusion. The grotesque creature grinned at him for a few seconds before sitting down and taking a slurp of coffee while staring into space. "You know why I'm here," he said. It was not a question. "Um... no I don't," replied the baron. "But you do," said Discord, looking back at him. "After all you did wish for me last night." "No I didn't!" said the baron. He was growing increasingly confused and exasperated at this creature's vagueness. "Last night, my friend, you stood at that very window over there, and stared out at the city, wishing for a little real-life action, did you not?" The baron said nothing at first, taken back. How was Discord privy to his intimate wishes? "Yes," he replied cautiously. "Well, I answer to the call of those in need of such action," said Discord getting up and closer to face the baron, who didn't retreat. "And while you did not wish for me to appear per se, you did wish for an answer to your prayers. So here I am. You're welcome, by the way. I know what troubles you," he continued after a short pause. "I've seen it countless times. And I already know all about you, Ronald Winston, baron of Wilkshire. You want the thrill of living on your own means and working hard for reward and merit with the rest of them down there. You feel like you're unwillingly taking the money of someone else's hard work into your pockets, without any due credit. You want an escape from the banality of your comfortable little life. Well, what if I told you I could give you the escape key? Make you the normal man you want to be?" Winston only stared in shock at Discord. Not because he was twice the baron's size, but because he had never confronted anyone with these personal matters, not even his closest relatives. And suddenly here was this abnormal creature, to say the least, that had appeared out of thin air; that confronted him about his own secret desires, that he somehow knew along with the rest of his background, apparently. And it said it had come here to give him what he had wished for a very long time. Just like that. The baron had so many questions whirring in his mind, but opted for the one most present there. "How...?" he said. "Like so," replied Discord. Then he grabbed his left horn, the one that didn't look like a deer's, and ripped it out of his head. Winston flinched at the gross sight. Had Discord just mutilated himself in front of him? He felt creeped out by the sound of hairs ripping from Discord's skull, and the thump it made as it popped out clean from its socket. Discord casually removed the few hairs from the base of the horn, apparently not feeling a thing, and extended it to a reluctant baron. "This," he declared, "is the Draconequus Horn. It is part of me, and as such, part of the embodiement of chaos. And it is known to have certain unique, mentally altering properties upon ingestion." Something clicked inside the baron's head. "Did you just say I will have to eat this?" he said incredulously. Discord tugged at a corner of his lips. "Well, not exactly," he said. "You see it's more like a suppository..." The baron shot Discord a look that could only be described as the universal body language for 'what the fuck'. Discord looked at him with the utmost seriousness before erupting in a loud cackle. "Just kidding!" he said. "The look on your face was priceless!" He wiped a tear away with his finger before saying casually "No but yeah, you're gonna have to swallow this." The relief on the baron's face was brief. Very brief. "What, like, am I supposed to swallow this whole?" "Yes indeed. Otherwise it won't work," replied Discord. The baron stared at the horn in strange fascination. "Um, how does it work exactly...?" "Well you see, if you want to change your life to live in a social environment that is alien to you, you're going to have to adapt by making drastic changes to your personality and thinking. If you want to face the urban jungle, you better have the guts to go through it. Once you have swallowed this, you will occasionally feel strong surges of confidence that will alow you to face challenges without any problems, second thoughts, or even concerns about how your behaviour affects others. You will be unstoppable and ready to face anything. However, these surges will come totally at random, whether the time is appropriate or not. And this 'condition' of random mood swings will be yours to bear permanently, for better or worse." The baron kept staring at the horn, weighing his options carefully. This was it. Supposedly, this was the answer to all the questions he had about himself, and to the endless mid-life crisis that had started with his puberty. If he swallowed this, there would be no more wistfully admiring the city, his love, from his window at night... No, he would be the city. And apparently, it also gave him 'guts', as Discord put it. He would be able to stomach many things with this. Perhaps it would even make him influencial though a sense of leadership and confidence. Then again, something was nagging him at the corner of his mind. When he thought about it, this was going much too fast. In less than an hour, he had gone from waking up on an average morning to preparing himself to eat a horn the size of a small tree branch, that a total stranger--and by God what a stranger--was offering him, saying it would rid him of his troubles. Was it that simple? This Discord certainly seemed to be the manipulative type. How did he know this wasn't an elaborate hoax, that he wouldn't choke and die in a few seconds? Did this horn really have these unsuspected proprieties to it? Would it really turn him into an average joe without a consciousness problem to consume him? Was this really what he wanted? What he wanted... What he had wanted desperately... Wanted for so long... What he needed... "So what'll it be?" asked Discord the baron who was now completely staring into space. There was a second before Winston grabbed the horn, with no hesitation, and stuck it in his mouth, using his fingers to force it down his throat. He felt his gag reflex kick in, and heard Discord say "Kinky...". But he forced it down, with surprising ease for something so big. It felt... lumpy, but it made its way down the hatch fairly easily. He did feel bloated all of a sudden, though. And it was done. The baron had acted on impulse, and his eyes widened at the realisation of what he had just done. He had not died. And if Discord spoke the truth, this was probably going to be the biggest turning point ever in his life. He looked at the floor slightly wide-eyed for a few seconds, panting a little, before he slowly looked up at Discord - whose horn had suddenly grown back - with a serious look. "You owe me a new mug," he said. Discord shot him a toothy, knowing grin.