//------------------------------// // Sunshine, Sugar, and Chemical Chaos // Story: Harbinger, randomness of George // by LucidTech //------------------------------// Take my advice, Follow MY path. Hold on to your hatred, Bask in your wrath. Crusade of fire, Chaos will rise! Ignore the sisters, I see past their lies. I have survived, Through deception and pain. I ignore other's doubt, They call me insane. "Too long he has lived," "Stop him we must!" I will burn them to ashes, I WILL TURN THEM TO DUST. Screwball jolted awake. The voice of Discord may have been removed from her waking thoughts, but it still haunted her dreams. That was when it truly hit her, having the voices banished from her mind truly hadn’t been her hopeful imagination. The odd biped had really done it, he had freed her from her own nightmares. Just as it had before, the feeling of relief washed over her and the young filly felt like crying tears of joy. After she had finished crying, the small filly wiped her eyes clear of her tears and looked around the room that she was in. Everything was decorated with a pink hue and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. Once they did though, she gleefully took in her surroundings. The room was quite well laid out, with a window on her right that gave her a wonderful view of the rising sun through a set of red curtains that danced in what little wind was coming in through the slightly opened bottom. Aside from the bed that she currently found herself in, the room held a single bedside table on her left and a table with two chairs on the other side of the room. A gust entered through the slightly opened window, stirring a piece of paper that was resting next to Screwball’s head. The movement caught the filly’s eyes and she lifted the paper from its position to read it. 3... 2... 1... -George As soon as she finished reading the paper, the door to her room exploded off its frame, the slivers of wood turning into bananas as they flew through the air while the metal hinges changed into a matching pair of elongated glass bowls. The glass bowls landed on the table almost immediately, while the bananas shed their peels in mid air before sliding into their positions on the glass. Screwball was shocked motionless as she lay in the bed, amazed by the spectacle. It wasn’t quite over yet though, as a flurry as baseballs streamed in through the doorway. The stitching of the balls came apart, revealing orbs of ice cream that flew through the air and joined the bananas. The stitching and the baseball skin transformed as well as they passed through the air: the stitches turning into lengths of chocolate syrup and the skin of the ball turning into collections of nuts. Once stuff had stopped flying, two banana splits decorated in toppings rested on the table. Before Screwball could wrap her head around the events, she became aware of a loud clacking noise. Looking once again to the door, she witnessed George walk in while wearing a pair of wooden clogs on his feet. Once in the room, the biped stepped out of the clunky shoes, revealing a pair of black dress shoes adorning his feet. With a smile to the filly, the man took a wood shoe in each hand before immediately throwing them towards the ground. Upon contact with the stone, the shoes shattered into tiny bits. A snap of George’s finger, and the pieces of wood began to swirl into the air as if held by a small tornado. Wind began to whistle as air was dragged into the room through the small crack of the window. Then, without a warning, the pieces all collided in the center of the whirlwind and a flash of light issued from the collision point. After blinking the afterlight out of her eyes, Screwball looked up to see a duo of cushioned chairs, decorated with gold filigree, where the tornado had been not a moment before. After sliding the chairs up to the table, George waved his hand to Screwball and motioned towards one of the chairs while he took his own seat. The filly made her way across the open space and gladly took her seat. George slid a banana split across to her and placed one in front of himself with a grin plastered on his face. After the deserts were placed properly, the human reached into one of sleeves and pulled out a thin roll of wafer-like candy. He took the wafer thin sheet and slid it around the banana split, bowl and all. Then he rolled the entire thing into an impossibly small cylinder, which he lit and proceeded to smoke. In answer to this, Screwball closed her eyes for a moment, biting her tongue lightly until a propeller cap appeared on her head. She wasn’t quite done yet though, as the propeller began to spin while starting to glow purple. After a moment, a single swirly straw was levitating in front of the young filly and she placed the end directly inside the banana split. Without wasting a second, she immediately began to inhale through the straw and the banana split began to vanish before their eyes, traveling through the entire set of loopdeloops before eventually hitting the taste buds of the filly’s tongue. The amazing thing was that the entire desert had been sucked up the straw as if it had been nothing but liquid. George started clapping at the impressive display and Entropy began a short series of ‘Bravo’s. The result of which was the small filly jumping onto the table and bowing deeply to both of the beings who sat across from her. “So,” George started, clapping his hands together a final time, “how are you today, Screwball? You seem in much better spirits.” “Well, it’s been a good day so far. Banana splits for breakfast, no more voices in my head except my own, and I still have control over some chaos magic. It’s been a spinnerific morning.” “That’s good to hear, and I think I have some news that will make this day even better.” “You got me a cake?” Screwball asked, her eyes going wide as she imagined the idea of having even more sugar to start off her day. George let loose a short laugh for a moment before smiling at the filly again. “No, even better.” The man paused for a moment as he swung his arms out to the side for the purpose of building dramatic tension. “I,” he paused again while the filly leaned forward in her chair to make sure she didn’t miss his next words. A few birds flew by outside the window as the clock tower in town rang nine times. Clouds began to form and drift through the blue sky with a slight breeze continuing it journey through the cracked open window, “found your parents!” Screwball’s eyes went even wider and she began to jump up and down with joy. “Can I see ‘em? Can I? Can I? Can I?” “Of course!” George said with a jovial tone as he snapped his fingers. The trio were immediately teleported downstairs where Screwball was happy to find two familiar looking adults. “Mom! Dad!” Screwball exclaimed as she jumped through the air towards her parents who caught her in outstretched hooves. With tears in their eyes, the two ponies happily hugged their daughter who had been missing for a fairly long time. “Screwball! We were so worried!” Any words that may have been said in response were cut off as a heavy ‘thunk’ echoed from behind the filly. All of them turned to look and witnessed George crying tears of his own as he sliced a knife through onions while they levitated in midair, his tears turning into bouncy rubber balls before hitting the ground. “Don’t mind me, just fitting the mood,” George said with a sniff as Entropy mimed rolling his eyes, the idea somehow getting across despite his lack of pupils. “So many tears!” With a shared set of glances between each member of the family, the filly was gently lowered to the ground and the trio of ponies approached the biped. The stallion was the first to speak. “Well, I would just like to thank you George, for bringing our daughter back to us.” “I, too, would like to thank you,” said the mare. George looked at the two with a smile on his face before looking up at his hat with his grin fading slightly. “Entropy, make a note. I need to get a black mask and find a stallion named Silver.” “Note taken,” Entropy replied in his deep voice. “And I’m not even going to ask why.” “Thanks.” The adult ponies shared a look of curiosity before they looked back to see George smiling warmly at them. “Sorry about that, got lost on a tangent.” After a pause, where he looked to Screwball standing behind her parents, George continued. “I feel that I should tell you that your daughter is in possession of chaos magic and has the ability to utilize it like a unicorn does their own magic,” he said in a completely nonchalant tone. The parents’ mouths fell agape at the words and they looked to their daughter, who smiled back with her beanie spinning wildly. “Because of this, I would like to ask that I be allowed to teach her the finer controls of chaotic energies before she return home. Outside of my own chaotic energy field, things could get quite... strange.” “Ooooo, it’ll be like camp! Can I Mom? Pleeeeaaase?” Screwball pleaded, jumping up and down once again. “I-I guess so, if it’s okay with your dad.” The filly looked to her dad, who nodded in return. “Yay! Now I get to hang out with Mister George some more!” The parents were dumb struck as the filly took to the air, her propeller spinning wildly as she flew. Then, with a flash of purple, she disappeared. Seeing the looks on their faces, George smiled lightly and crouched in front of the ponies so he was at eye level. “Don’t worry. If you ever get afraid for her, come on by and you three can hang out. I promise.” They nodded slowly in response and George stood once again. After a nod of his own to the parents he snapped his fingers, teleporting himself away and to the back garden area of the castle, where he found Screwball bouncing around a tree. “Come on Screwb, we have some practice to practice.” The filly let loose a disappointed moan, but excitedly followed the man into the forest as he began a short rhyme that sounded familiar to her in pacing. Take my advice, Follow your own path. Whether that involve magic, Or whether it involve math. Crusades expire, Time just flies. Live while you can, Something, something, demise. It’s life in your years, not years in your life. We need to press forward, Despite any strife. Why am I rhyming? This makes no sense. Just a line or two, and then the word ‘pence’. (Credit for the poem at the top of this chapter goes to MrSpartan. I edited it to make it flow better and then made a version for George at the bottom here. Again, StapleCactus is my awesome editor for this work. In fact, while we’re talking about Staple, I did a Fallout Equestria collaboration with him. If you’re interested the link is here. Fair warning: It's pretty adult, -N64Fan)