In the cafeteria/mess hall of the Bureau, there was an old busted-up Jukebox. It had been there for many years, first to add a little color to the place back when the old mall was still in use, then as an actual Jukebox (admittedly, with only one piece of music in it) when the Bureau set up shop there and had the old Box repaired. It was this particular box that was the only witness as the Bishop and his HLF-handler busted into the room.
“Clear! Damnit, how big is this place again?”
The Pastor smiled serenely. “That is irrelevant. The Devil conceals itself with trickery and confusion, but the LORD will see us through on this holy mission. They cannot hide forever.”
The handler, an unfortunate young man by the name of Kain, sighed. “You are awfully cheerful for some old geezer who spent the last-”
“Mind your words! I, as a man of the cloth, deserve respect! Besides, I have every reason to rejoice! The Devil-worshippers are on the run, soon to be cleansed with fire, and when we succeed we can finally reclaim our birthright! Surely, you see why today is a day for great joy?”
Kain grumbled, as he took a closer look around the room in search for anything that could help them speed up their search. “Sure, whatever boss. Would be better if we actually saw one of them,” he said as he inspected the Jukebox.
“Phah! The impatience of youth indeed! Just you wait, today will be flawless! Perfect even!”
At this moment, something happened. The kind of thing that, when one looks back on it, makes no sense whatsoever. The kind of thing that defies all sense of logic, and makes you wonder if Pinkie was somehow involved.
The Jukebox started playing its one tune, as the Pastor joined in with the music without even noticing the absurdity of such an action.
This day is going to be perfect,
The blessed day for which I prayed since I was young,
Those devils will soon fall,
God’s judgment seen by all,
Lord, I shall see thy will be done!
Dave hurried as he climbed over the hills in front of the Bureau, glancing one last time at the now-smoking bureau. Giving himself but a moment as he wiped away a single tear, he joined in on the song without even hearing the tune.
This day was going to be perfect,
The flawless day for which I wished since they arrived,
but my friends gave peace no chance,
frightened beasts facing their ends,
if they stopped to think, we might just have survived!
As he progressed deeper into the bureau, the Pastor couldn’t help but dance a little as he picked up the song once more.
Flee if you must,
Soon you’ll be dust,
You can’t escape ,
Show your true shape!
Hell, will soon be home to you all!
You are all but hateful sinners,
But mankind will be the winners,
Pray the Lord shows mercy on your souls!
Lord, your work now will be done,
The sinners are on the run!
But the demons won’t escape their fate!
In one of the few areas not found by the HLF yet, Victorious, Grace and their foals huddled together, cowering in fear as Victorious softly continued the song.
Should have escaped,
Now it’s too late!
There’s no way,
To save the day,
Hope? I’d be lying if I said,
I know the Doctor will save us,
For I know those that hate us,
Wish to see our end and kill us for fun!
But the Doctor won’t betray,
He won’t let us die today,
But if he won’t make it we will all die!
In the meantime Kain and the Pastor made their way through the bureau, as Kain joined in to the song, muttering under his breath.
Almost done with this darn hunt,
Can’t wait to kill some four-hoofed runt!
Back in the small room, Victorious and his family huddle closer still, as footsteps started to be heard just outside the door.
I hope the Doctor soon returns,
Else it will be our turns,
Doctor hurry, or we’ll be-
“FOUND YOU!” the Pastor shouted as he broke through the door.
A little earlier, Canterlot.
If the caves underneath the castle would have been able to talk, they would have been complaining right now. First that excessively expansive refitting, then the noisy machines that were left in the wake of said refitting, followed by that annoying little spill mere minutes before, and now all the Unicorns in the castle showing off their little tricks to clean it up. Couldn’t a respectable cave system get a quiet century around here?
Alas, the complaints of the caves were ignored, unheard over the noises generated by about a hundred Unicorn mages trying to clean up one of the largest containment breaches in the history of the Conversion Movement.
“Hold up, that over there is no rubble!”
“What, that blue thing there?”
“Indeed, that one. Looks like the thing the Princess described, too.”
The mages of Canterlot had been working for only a hoof full of minutes, but had already managed to remove a remarkable portion of the rubble, thanks to some creative applications of teleportation spells plus regular Unicorn levitation. At the moment however, two of the mages were inspecting what looked like a simple wooden box. While the blue paint alone would have made it rather noticeable among the gray and occasional brown of the rubble, the fact that this wooden box had somehow survived the critical integrity failure of the tank made it all that much more interesting. However, during the uncharacteristically hurried briefing from Princess Celestia, the mages had all received a special additional task from the Princess: to find a certain blue box, and to bring it to her unopened.
So, at the moment the two mages were looking at a box that matched the description the Princess had given to a tee while wondering why the Princess had asked to look out for it.
“It doesn’t look all that special...”
“Are you daft?! That box shouldn’t be intact, not after such an explosion!”
“True... Well, not my problem. As the Princess wishes, she shall have it. I guess you’ll have me deliver it?”
The older mage, a Unicorn mare by the name of Purple Clouds, thought about it for a moment. “Sure. I know you need your break,” she said with a slightly mocking smile.
The younger mage, a Unicorn mare named Esteemed Companion, sighed at the usual antics from her superior. “Says miss hibernation. Whatever, I’ll be back.” Wrapping the box in her magical field, she lifted the strange item from the rubble before vanishing in a flash, reappearing immediately in the throne room with the box still in tow. “Your Majesty, we have found the box you requested,” Esteemed said as she lowered it in front of the throne upon which Celestia was seated.
After giving a quick visual inspection, Celestia nodded. “This is indeed the Box. Good work, you can take the rest of the day off.” As Esteemed left the room, Celestia addressed the guards. “Guards, leave the throne room.” Acting with the kind of group coordination only achieved through years of training, the guards all nodded as one, before leaving the throne room in two neat lines followed by a thunderous boom as the massive doors to the throne room slammed shut.
“You can come out now, everypony is gone from the room.”
One of the tapestries on the walls of the room started moving as something behind it tried to push it aside, eventually revealing the Doctor who had been hiding in an alcove hidden by the tapestry. “Whew! That took shorter than I thought, though the ventilation there is utter rubbish. Well then, old girl. Let’s have a look at you.”
The Doctor made his way over to the recovered TARDIS, visibly cheerful to have her back. Despite having bathed in high-potency magic potion, the damage seemed limited. Perhaps the colors on the box were a little brighter than usual, and it was a little unusual how the text along the top of the box now identified it as a “pony call box,” but all things considered it looked just fine. Retrieving a completely unremarkable key from his pocket, the Doctor undid the lock and opened the box.
The insides were completely dark, save for the light coming through the door.
“no! nononononoNO!” the Doctor muttered as he ran inside and promptly tripped over some piece of debris.
Hearing the man fall, Princess Celestia peeked around the door. Seeing the Doctor on the ground, she walked up to him while lighting up her horn to provide a little light. “Are you hurt?”
Slowly crawling back to his feet, the Doctor sighed mournfully. “No, I am not hurt. But it doesn’t matter. The TARDIS died.”
The Princess raised an eyebrow at the unusual look of defeat the Doctor had. “Are you sure? You told me about that time you got into another universe and-”
The Doctor raised a single finger, silencing Celestia. “For one thing, no spoilers. The timeline must stay consistent. Second, back then, at least the lights still worked.” Pulling the Sonic Screwdriver from a pocket, he waved it around a few times before showing it to the Princess. “But look at the readings. No heat, no movement, no energy other than what little hasn’t leaked into the time vortex yet. The TARDIS is dead. The one companion I could count on not to die, not to leave me, not to forget me, is gone. And there is nothing I can do about it.” As he leaned against a wall, tears began to fall from his eyes. “I... I just don’t know where to go now!”
Princess Celestia wanted to say so many things. ‘It was not your fault.’ ‘It will be fine.’ ‘There is always hope.’ But she knew better, had known better for a thousand years now. No words were spoken as the Princess of the Eternal Sun leaned in to give the Oncoming Storm the one thing he needed: a shoulder to cry on.
The roundup had taken mere minutes, given how all the ponies and other employees of the bureau had decided to put as many corridors between them and their attackers, which in turn had meant they all ended up in roughly the same place. The Pastor smirked as he looked at the ponies cowering before him. Who said faith was never rewarded?
“Who of you is the leader of this false temple?” he said, the mirth in his voice as clear as day.
One of the ponies spoke up. “Um... Last I saw of Doctor Tennant, he was, um, running.”
“All the better. Those that still believe in the Word of God will deal with him. Now, with him out of the way, who is in charge without him?”
“That would be me,” Doctor Whooves said. “What are your terms?”
The Pastor’s smirk widened into a fearsome grin. “Simple. You return to whatever hell you crawled from, and Equestria leaves Earth to humanity.”
The pony Doctor frowned at this. “Well, I don’t think you will be getting a lot of support from-” SMACK!
The HLF goon cracked his knuckles, readying his hand for another slap. “Plenty more where that came from, horse! Now, tell those pretty prancing show ponies you call princesses to do as the good Pastor says!”
Rubbing the side of his head, the Doctor gave an annoyed glance to the goon. “I can’t. Don’t have a hotline to them, contrary to popular belief. Besides, I doubt they would do it even if I told them to.”
The Pastor gestured to the overzealous man, urging him to calm down. “At ease, my son. Don’t expect these demons to cooperate. After all, they are only here to sow chaos and discord.” He turned to face the rest of the prisoners. “However, I am certain their leader will at least show up when her henchmen are sent back to whatever pit of hell she came from. Now, I-”
At this point the doors slammed open, revealing some slightly scuffled HLF members carrying three rather familiar fillies. “Oh father,” one of them began in a tone a few would describe as reverent but which most would assume was outright mocking, “these little imps tried to ambush us, but we managed to overcome the foul hell spawns! Shall we rid the world from these vile beasts now, or are they to be spared a moment longer?”
Slightly annoyed at the interruption, the Pastor replied to the new arrival. “Put them with the others. And stop your mockery, you fool no-one.” Pacing past the prisoners, he started to talk again. “Now, for that demon Celestia to notice, some of you will die. So, let’s start. You’ll do,” he said as he stopped in front of Rainbow Spring. “Any last words?”
Rainbow backed away against the wall, as some of the HLF-men standing guard pumped their guns in preparation of what was to come. “Please! No! Help me!”
Suddenly, a tiny silver blur dashed between the Pastor and the cowering mare. “Dowt..” Silver struggled to speak as he jumped between the two.
The Pastor flinched at the sudden motion, but quickly recovered. “Sorry, what?”
Silver Aura shook his head a few times before declaring, with as much force as his body allowed, “down’t huwt my mothew!”
The Pastor raised a single eyebrow at the display. “Touching.” The next moment Silver was shooting through the air, intent of stopping the man from hurting his mother any more as a trail of sparks shot off of his flanks. However, rather than pushing the Pastor away, he was knocked off course as one of the HLF-goons rammed him with the butt of his rifle, causing him to crash into the floor. Looking over the small pony, the Bishop noticed a new addition to his flanks. “So, the runt has been branded? Meaningless. Anyhow, you there. Shoot the mother and-”
“STOP, PLEASE!!”
The entire room fell silent as everyone turned to see who had shouted, all eyes now focused on a visibly distressed Twilight Sparkle. Flinching a little from having all attention focused on her suddenly, she gathered her composure and spoke. “Please, nopony has to die. If you want, I can send a message to Princess Celestia, all I need is a quill and paper.”
The Pastor raised a single eyebrow. “And why would I trust anything you say, Demon?”
Swallowing hard, Twilight continued. “I am Twilight Sparkle, student of Princess Celestia. If I send her a message, she will read it. Also, I have too much to lose now to even think of bluffing.”
The Pastor stood still for a few seconds, before he started to chuckle softly. “The student of the Princess, you say? Well, then I don’t think there will be any unneeded bloodshed today.”
Twilight let out a sigh of relief. “That is great. For a moment I thought-”
“...Because one death will be enough. Kill her.”
One of the guards standing next to Twilight cocked his gun and pointed it at her head, as her pupils shrank to pinpricks. “What?! No! Don’t-”
*blam*
Canterlot, caves containing the Potion Production Plant
The grey blob had been dreaming. Dreaming of so many things.
Some had been. An old man becomes young ten.. or was it eleven times over; friends and allies who will come and go; memories perhaps?
Some could still be. A traveler had found a new world to explore; a companion who became so much more; visions maybe?
No. They have felt too... too much like facts.
Tenses have been difficult.
The blob noticed something. Several things even.
For one thing, the dreams would end. No, they had ended. Yes. Had ended.
Another thing... it wasn’t grey. Or a blob.
The thing unsteadily rose to its... feet? No, wrong shape. They didn’t feel like that last time. What last time?
Shaking its head, the thing marveled at the sensation of having a head. Such a strange feeling, having an entire universe contained in so little space. One thing the Time Lords had never mastered. Wait, who now?
Never mind. I have a body now. Wait, I?
Looking over itself, the being only saw blue. A blue body, with blue hair and blue hooves.
‘Hooves. That is the word for what I have.’
Startled, the creature looked around. ‘Who was that? Aah! There it is again! ...hmm? I am doing this?’
‘Thoughts. That’s new. Never thought I would have thoughts. Wait, is that not a paradox?’
Thoroughly confused by her own line of thoughts- ‘Her? Feels... appropriate.’ –the pony rose to her hooves, knocking over something in the process.
“HALT! Who goes there?!”
Turning her head- ‘having muscles feels... strange. Good, but strange.’ –to the source of the sound, the mare saw...
Something white. A little taller than herself, standing on four legs ending in hooves and with some odd yellow blotches- ‘No, it is wearing something yellow. Amour? Amore? No, Armor!’-walking towards her.
“How did you get here?! Are you involved with the HLF?! Answer me!”
”a... ar...”
The white Pegasus stallion-‘Where did those words come from? I feel as if I fail to remember... something. No, many things.’-raised an eyebrow. “What did you say? Speak up!”
Struggling to speak, the mare managed to form the words bouncing through her head.
“Are you my thief?”
//////////
Ray10k here.
Some free advice for all writers out there:
If you ever find yourself thinking, “wouldn’t it be nice if my characters sang a song to the tune of <insert popular song here>,” do yourself a favor. Grab a big bottle of some alcoholic beverage (I advise vodka), and drink until it no longer seems like such a good idea. Songs to no particular tune are hard enough, songs to an existing tune are almost impossible to pull off.
Also, I kind of feel that Sales getting his cutiemark is kind of rushed. I mean, he has been a newfoal (quite literally a new foal too) for at most a few days now, and most CB stories I know of can be put in two categories: conversion gives you a cutiemark as part of the process, or it takes a few years before you get your mark. Let me know what you think.
finally, Happy belated birthday, Kryxel!
(kryxel here, and i pinkie promise that more or likely will be the last song for TCB: SG.
the only songs i may do are "background themes" to set the mood.
as for sales getting his mark, it all depends on when you realize what you mean to do. so why not a few days or so after his conversion?
also as sales' mark has not been revealed yet can you guess what it may be? or what he did to get it? )