1. Dark Meetings
The stars shone wearily down through a small wooden window into third floor hallway that smelled faintly of moldy cheese and bourbon, weaved it’s way around particles of dust, past two lonesome figures and finally came to rest upon a door number. The number was a Six but it hung upside-down nervously, pretending to be a nine and hoping nobody would notice.
Innocuous as the door was, it couldn’t help but creak and rattle when a firm if somewhat chubby hand knocked briskly on it.
Being a door it couldn’t contemplate anything, let alone the strange goings on behind it’s sturdy frame, and thankfully neither could any of the other guests at Indianna university living in the dormitories. At Four in the morning only a handful of people making quiet noises in quiet rooms were still actually awake so it was not surprising that the only person to hear the following conversation was a Janitor.
“Shit, are they here already, get this crap cleared away.”
The two gentlemen, who shall be called gentlemen inspite of looking like a mechanic and a hobo, looked at each other before looking back at the door.
“Larry, let us in!” The shabbily dressed male demanded, in a voice that suggested not being let in was perfectly acceptable. His hand slipped out of it’s pocket as though it had never been there and lightly rapped upon the door just as it opened. But only a crack.
The weedy looking eyes looking out through the gap indicated their owner may have been on crack. At the very least they suggested too many nights up at a computer drinking highly caffeinated beverages and they blinked rapidly as they scanned over the guests in the hallway.
Hesitantly, he asked a question;
“Are you delivering Chimmy Cherry or Cherry Chunga?” He asked cautiously. The larger of the two men simply glared at the weedy looking man before putting his boot firmly against the door and pushing. The door being an obliging door did as the boot told it.
“So, Isaac!” he looked across to the second man in the room, “Do we have all the merchandise ready?” He said, indicating the collection of mint condition plastic and nylon objects still in their mint condition nylon and plastic packaging. Stomping over to the computer he bumped the mouse and observed “Canterlot Defence” in pause mode on the screen, but said nothing about it.
“And how’s the server going for the fighting network!”
The weedy looking guy took off his small glasses, polished them against a small stained shirt and forcefully put them back on. Having done this he very politely pointed out “The server is going fine Dylan! Thank you for asking. You didn’t need to barge into my dorm like that! Just cause you helped move everything in!”
“And have a key!” the man in the corner of the room grinned.
“And have a key!” Dylan responded quite happily.
Dylan looked around the room quietly and with a grin on his face. The four men gathered here were champions, heros in their own right! Part of a society that was both secret and ancient, or at least a few years old and had millions of followers. Better than some religious cult they scoured internet pages, downloading images and songs, playing games and ferreting around for precious plastic collectibles.
It was a powerful movement, based on a basic feeling, a fellowship! Men, women, children gathered together to give praise spread the word of the magic of friendship and of the cartoon that had inspired them.
“Dudes, what we are going to do will be totally awesome, probably!” The fourth man claimed stepping forwards. “But if we’re going to be ready in time for Sunrise then we need to start now! If we want Her to come that is!”
All four men looked at each other with grins. Larry, Dylan, Isaac and Karlos had all met online in the forum Equestria Daily and had been surprised to learn they lived in the same city! Online they were known as LillyTamer, IronRod, DaringDolittle and WindSitter. Enthralled by the ponies of Friendship is Magic they had overcome their base differences and started sharing stories, fanart and working together on starting a game.
Only after they had met in real life had the four learned that LillyTamer was not only a guy (a bit of a shock) but an amature magician with a limited edition First Copy, First release of Dungeons and Dragons. The one that actually had magic spells in it. Or so he claimed.
At first nothing had happened, at first. It had been a joke mostly, and while they hung out occasionally none of the four had actually considered that it was possible to do anything resembling magic. But even if it wasn’t possible, wouldn’t it be a lark!
Friendship, they said, was magic. So like a seance could give people the fun of talking to a supposedly dead person here they gathered.
“On the stroke of sunrise -” Lillytamer talked, reading the information from his old book while the others prepared flowers, fruit and positioned the merchandise, - “If we want to talk to ‘Her’ or summer ‘Her’ here then that will be the best time!”
“I still say we need SIX!” Isaac complained, as he snacked on a snickers. “There are six main ponies, six elements of harmony, and episodes run in batches of six on the DVD’s!”
“That’s a lot of sixes!” Larry stated, rubbing his glasses. “But there is only four of us! We can’t do anything about that!”
Larry made a small pout on his face and quietly mumbled something about ‘not seaming right.”
Not that anybody listened.
The only person who remained quiet during the preparation was Karlos. Scruffy, and quiet some would actually call the accountant Emo if they were to see him in his ‘casual’ clothing. Karlos watched the other men quietly until the time of the ceremony, saying nothing unless absolutely necessary and simply observed the setting with dark half-lidded eyes.
Eventually, when all was in readiness, they sat, in a perfect circle.
Larry, also known as Lillytamer sat first, keeping his sacred book in his lap. The pages were ragged and a little torn, and in places the spell he was using, intended for casting a spell called ‘Unicorns Rage’, had been modified in places to include new words sketchily translated in latin and then from Latin into hebrew.
“Can we all be seated!” he stated, looking at each of the figures. All four were now robed in imitations of mantle of Starswirl the bearded. With an assortment of real and fake magical charms, some genuine horse hair, a realistic carved wood figurine of their intended target and a modified Ouija board. Looking at the assembled gathering, Isaac whistled only to be chided by Larry. Dylan stifled a laugh and for a moment all was silent.
Nodding to Larry, Karlos tapped the button on the Ipod and started the MY Little Pony OST playing, so that select instrumentals from the series, along with a handful of songs from Forest Rain, Eurobeat Brony and PinkiePie Swear mixed in.
“Semper ardens sol, adornantem mundus ex veneficus.” Larry began nervously, struggling with the dead language.
“te dicimus vocare te, oh alatum, corniger bestia,” Continued Karlos in a bored voice,
“repleti, magicam et preditos intelegence, hunc vincula amicitiai scientia quaerimus.”
Dylan had no problem with the words, despite being a mechanic he was also a Trekie and therefore had some experience with unlikely languages. Being Jewish likely made things easier too, although he claimed not to be involved in his traditional culture.
“ut luceant in locum tuum ad tempus.” Finished Isaac. Everyone took a breath, then one by one each put a puny digit on the glass in the middle of the Ouija Board.
Hesitating, Dylan picked up the next sentence saying “Ut fortitudo vestra noster factus est fortitúdinem,” with Larry finishing off.
“Ita ut omnes qui vinci in et potestates quibus possideo.”
At this point Karlos gently pushed the glass with his finger, and quietly chuckled inside his head where only he could hear it. Even if anyone guess, this was mostly just for fun.
“Princess Celestia!” Larry called out, Can you hear us!”
As the first rays of sunrise shon into the grubby room through a grubby window pane the game began for real.
Outside, down the paths, outside the campus grounds, around the corner and about 120 miles away a man was taking out the garbage. He ran a fish and chip shop and, like always, this meant an early start. Walking around the alley in his underwear and a shirt, knowing that nobody would see him and the refrigerated van wouldn’t be there for a couple of hours he was surprised to hear the sound of two female voices.
“Dear Twilight.” A voice stated, as though reading or perhaps, quoting. “Thank you for the apple tarts that you and your friends made, Luna and I are enjoying them immensely. Mine as breakfast, her’s as desert!”
“They’re Delicious!” a second voice put in, through what sounded like a mouth full of pie.
Joseph looked around scratching his head, somehow those voices sounded familiar. Had he heard them somewhere before.
“I am also very pleased to hear Applejack’s message and the value she learned in listening to her grandmother. She seems like a fine mare.” The regal voice stated. Joseph lifted the lid on the rubbish bin and checked inside just to be certain.
“I will have to meet this Granny Smith next time I am in Ponyville. Hope this finds you well. Celestia!”
Joseph put the lid down, the speeches seeming to have been completed and turned to go back inside. This was when an even stranger sound hit his ears. Like a popping followed by a god awful roar that split the air like a knife!
“Sister!!! What is that!” a voice screamed at him.
“It appears to be some kind of corrid.....” The richer voice got cut off by what felt like a block of static. Then all the man could hear was screaming.
When his head and eyes cleared, the alley was no longer empty. Trash cans, scattered around and dented in places pointed to a place where there now stood a rather majestic looking horse.
Joseph lifted a lid before his brain caught up with the scene in front of him. Hesitantly he looked at the horned and winged mare and asked.
“But how can you be here?”
Celestia looked around, as though for a moment confused. Then her eyes settled on the sun of the human world, for the last time that she would remember.
Power flared, the iris’ of her eyes contracted and the whites turned red.
Working together to perform their wonderful magical arts, the four men played as though children ¼ of their ages around the Ouija board and effectively took turns making up questions that the supposedly present Celestia could answer. Some were clean, some perverted! Although the glass did decide to fly off the table when Karlos called her Molestia as a joke! Whether by some unspoken agreement or some matter of fate the men took turns controlling the glass and, since Larry started running a web feed moments after sunrise they also took some request questions. Three hours later with real world lives to attend the men split up.
Each of them tried to look inconspicuous as they left Larry’s flat, hoping that nobody would make assumptions about three men having visited the 19 year old student in the middle of the night and made their ways to their separate jobs.
Life happened. It was boring.
Halfway to work, with no intention of going home, Karlos stopped at a gas station and bought a bagel, before using the toilets there to change out of the dark scruffy clothes and put on a rather boring white business shirt. Taking a comb he wet his hair and raked the device through it, monitoring the effect this had on his hair and humming to himself as loud fire-engine sounds ran in and out making their way through the city, playing a strange stacutto to his off-tune humming.
Daryl, a mechanic at a local car-yard simply donned his company jacket and listened to the radio while Skrillex played at a blaring pace from his Ipod. The same one that had played the music during their summoning earlier that morning. Waiting at the lights for the fire engine to pass him, he guided his small skunk bucket that he’d been testing through a MacDonald’s and bought himself an extra large espresso.
Larry went to class, having not slept at all the previous night and chose to spend the class at the rear of the group checking his eyelids for holes; and Isaac went home, climbed into his computer chair, clicked on his multi-chapter fan-fiction he’d been writing and tried to decide if the little saence had given him any new material.
The fire that Krystal and her partner were rushing to had not been the first that night, but the early morning ring had been an unwelcomed hinderance. Making apologies to her partner the Red headed woman had donned her red and yellow jacket and made a hasty run to her motorcycle to reach the station just as the truck was going out.
Now, looking at the building that highlighted the sky she frowned. Jo’s Chips had not been an old building, quite the opposite! Brand new with rendered brick and sprinklers (sp?) fitted every precaution had been taken apparently to stop the highly flammable oils, grease and potatoes becoming a fire hazard. Which made this fire all the more confusing.
The rush to the site in the truck had been way too late to save the shop itself, the fire seeming to have burst through the building like a wave upon a beach taking everything in it’s path. Rather than save it Krystal and the boys had focused simply on keeping the fire from spreading as the glow light up the early morning sky with foreboding.
Now, stepping over soggy crinkled ground she looked at the mish mash of wood, splinters, glass and ashes and wondered how and where it had started. The entire left side of the building was missing, likely destroyed first with nothing but twisted iron and melted bricks to indicate the passage of the flames. Picking her way carefully she looked out into the alley, littered with debris, and saw a flash of white amongst the black. Hesitantly she crossed herself.
“CLIFF!” She picked her way back over the debri. “GET THE THE CORONER..” she hesitated, “AND PATH! WE GOT A BODY!”
To be continued.