Aegis once wrote a pair of very, very successful stories called "Seeing the Pattern", starring a NOT serial killer Pinkamina Diane Pie. She used the powers of the Pinkie Sense to save lives, had a semi-lustful relationship with a stallion that owned an ice cream shop, and kicked lots of ass. He tried to extend it into a third story, but he just couldn't figure out how to keep it going and keep it just as good as the first two... so he scrapped it.
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Seeing the Pattern 3: Stopping Destiny
Part 1: Prologue
Deep Under the Crust of Equestria…
The long tunnel in front of him led to the outside world where the living led their lives, and the passage behind him led to Tarturus and the rest of the underworld. It was the ‘space between spaces’ where the good and the evil met their judgment before going towards their final horizon.
A blood red stallion lay crucified on a circlular disk of lunar steel. A massive, jagged trident was impaled over his front-left leg, and a long wing-sword over his front-right. The two weapons held him spread-eagle while his back legs and head hung down. He’d been sleeping, sleeping for eons. Or was he dead? Half-dead? It was hard to know. But he’d not known consciousness for an age. His black mane had grown and grown, passing way past the length of his body, covering his face and all of his front. It helped to weigh his head down. Upon his head was a thick, silver helm with a pair of giant horns upon it. Despite its age the relic gleamed and sparkled as though made new only minutes ago.
His crotch was a bloody mess of disfigurement where he’d been flayed open and tortured, only to be sewn back up again when his assaulter saw it did no good. An entity such as he could not be ‘killed’, as much as he could be simply placated or stopped. Three red lines of ever-flowing blood issued from his two front legs (at the wrist, where the weapons impaled him), and from where his stallionhood was. He’d not stopped bleeding since he’d been pinned there centuries ago, yet he’d not died. Merely slept. The ground around him was more than soaked in his blood, it was moist with it. Jagged, red plants that should have never existed grasped at the edges of his imprisonment.
Occassionally, a ball of fluffy cloud would pass through him, at the belly, and out the other side. A recently dead pony had just met his end, and the ball of cloud was his soul, heading towards the other side. The stallion’s innards quivered, but he did not stir. They kept him fed.
The raw energy of a soul passing between worlds soaked through the stallion’s body, keeping him dormant and alive. But, the souls of the living had become a bit more scarce as of late. Not as many ponies had been dying as of late. He didn’t sleep as deeply, and occasionally his nostrils would move, or one of his back hooves would move ever so slightly.
This small amount of movement terrified Princess Luna, for she was standing there looking upon the prisoner. Clenching her teeth and trying not to let panick take over, she startled back when his head moved just a little. Breathing quick and heart thundering, she tore open a portal to the mortal plain and leapt through.
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Lickity Split curled to one side, purring happily in the sweaty, salty scent of post-coitus bliss. Pinkamina lay next to him, clutching at her pillow and still shivering in satiation. Long strands of her hair went in every direction, but she still turned her head to look at him with misty approval. She regarded her lover with a heady smirk of delight. While it was true that Pinkamina wore the pants in their relationship, in the bedroom the stallion still did the work. “Mhmhm, call me studly?” he said softly, pulling her happily to him.
“Not a chance.” She chuckled, scrubbing his mane with a hoof as they shared each other’s warmth. Pinkamina knew the stallion had been trying like mad to give her foals, but thus far it had been no dice. Her husband didn’t know she was literally Death incarnate, and she wasn’t sure that she could produce such fruits from her womb. She frowned in a troubled way, and he immediately noticed.
“Hey… whassamatter?” her stallion asked, looking up at her from where she held him at her breast. “Honey?” he whispered, reaching up and stroking her cheek a little.
Pinkamina stroked her lover, trying not to let her face betray her thoughts. “Nothing.” Her coy and dangerous smile returned. She ran her hoof and golden marriage hoop along his cheek. The cool touch of metal seemed to placate him, and she smiled a bit wider. She was still getting used to smiling without being so scary about it. She petted him until he purred softly.
Lickity leaned into her with a smile, slowly coming down from the bliss that was their lovemaking. His white fur was mussed and his mint green mane was off in every direction. “I love you…” he offered softly, kissing her cheek. She kept stroking his mane silently, and he rested his head between her front hooves. The stallion didn’t mind being the homebody, which he was, nor the submissive in their marriage. He liked strong mares like Pinkamina, he’d found, and he felt well cared-for. Nothing bad could happen to him so long as she was around.
Pinkamina pressed her muzzle into his mane, nuzzling quietly while they rested. The curtain that was her mane fell over her beautiful face, hiding it from the world so she could close her eyes in darkness. Her stallion squirmed a little, getting a better position until they were spooned up together as married couples should be. She rubbed his underbelly, which made him chuckle happily. “Lickity…” she sighed, content and relaxing down at last. There was a sudden CRACK of parted air and the far wall of their bedroom became a portal! Pinkamina jolted upright with a string of swearwords, covering Lickity’s eyes with her forehoof. “Don’t look!” she roared over the phantom gusts of wind coming from the Great Beyond. Any normal mortal who looked upon the Great Beyond would instantly go mad.
A massive dark pony jumped into the room with a thunk of weight on carpet. The portal snapped shut behind her. “Pink One!” Princess Luna demanded. “We must have words!” The Princess of the night herself had just appeared in the couple’s bedroom.
“P-Princess!” Lickity sat upright and then put his forehead onto the bedspread. Luna’s nose wrinkled, for the salty stink of sex lingered in the room.
“Do you MIND?!” Pinkamina roared, jumping out of the bed and making sure to cover Lickity with the comforter. “I have a front door for a reason!” she gave her long, stringy mane a toss so she could see better.
“Coitus interruptus is not our concern!” Luna snapped, ready to grab the pink mare and wring her neck for her insolence. “Thine presence is mandatory—NOW!” Both of them suddenly vanished in a spark of molten lunar magic.
Lickity wrestled his way out of the comforter his wife had thrown over him. “Pinkamina?” he called the to the empty room. “P-Princess Luna? Pinkie? Honey?” he wandered into the next room, but they were gone. He hung his head, sad they’d vanished so suddenly without taking him along—or saying where they were going.
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Celestia, Princess of the sun was sleeping quietly, late in the night. Or rather, seeming to. Being a goddess and the rough equivilant of an equine fury, she didn’t really need to sleep. But, it brought her closer to her mortal subjects, so she would often lay in bed for hours and contemplate her plans—governmental decisions, events, ruling-a-nation-type-things. If one displayed natural habits like eating and sleeping, ones subjects would find you more relatable too. While her sister acted upon all her power and moods, Celestia preferred the more subtle touch. Ponies referred to her shining immortal majesty as a chessplayer of a ruler, but it was only because she was always ten moves ahead. After all, if one had eight hours a day to quietly contemplate one’s next move, they’d be an excellent chess player too. The white alicorn heard her bedroom door open, and the mild clank of armor in the archway. Her guards tended to check on her now and then. Smiling kindly under her mane, she shifted a little and made the appropriate string of sleepy noises, and soon the curious guard was gone.
“Hmm.” Celestia turned over, eyeing her bookshelf. Maybe she could read something this evening to pass the time, and continue her thinking on the morn. The sun was not due for another six hours, so perhaps she could get in a few chapters of--!
CRACK! Her sister and a pink mare with a straight mane popped into existence with a roar of lunar magic. “Sister! Rise!” Luna’s voice bordered the Royal Canterlot Voice. “War is upon is!”
“Luna!” Celestia sat up quickly, her eyes wide and shushing her ever-furious sister. “Do not say such things, you’ll panic our little ponies for no reason.” she rose, lifting her wings to their full span. A guard threw the door open, but she kindly dismissed him with a look. When he was gone, Celestia frowned at her sister and spoke more quietly. “Start again, what’s happened?”
Luna took her by the shoulders, and her voice cracked with geniune panic when she spoke. “War is upon us! The fourth Aspect awakens!” Pinkamina didn’t want to know what could bring fear into the eyes of a goddess, but she knew she was going to find out very soon.
Celestia’s startled gasp didn’t help either. “We sealed him up, sister.” She said, easing Luna down to all-fours again. “Surely it’s not that bad.”
“He twitches in his slumber.” Luna insisted, looking angrily over at Pinkamina. The pink mare cocked a reproachful eyebrow, frowning. “The pink one’s recent prevention of so many deaths has starved the spell that holds him! Without enough soul energy to keep him dormant, the stallion War stirs!”
Celestia closed her mouth, then opened it, then closed it again. Her mind raced. This was bad. This was very, very bad. Equestria was only a utopia as long as War slept. She licked her lips a little, and then raised her voice. “Guard.” She called towards her door. The guard leaned in again, eager to do her bidding. “Muster the Solar Guard.”
“Er, how many, your Majesty?” he asked politely, his brow furrowing in a hieroglyph of worry. The solar guard were many, the Princess would have to name a number to produce a fighting force.
Celestia drew herself up to her full height, taking a deep and quiet breath. “All of them.” she whispered.
End of Part 1
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Aegis had promised over and over to never write about war and, well, it was a little ironic that that is what the entire fic was going to be about, so he backpedelled hard to get out of it and stay out of the stereotypes of things like that. Two Seeing the Pattern Fics were enough to tell a complete story, and end themselves on a high note.