Louis sat quietly in the waiting room, but he felt as though he could not wait any longer. There is only so much time one can take the legal atmosphere of a government building, and Louis wanted to get out of it as soon as possible.
He had quite a few friends that he wanted to get back to. Seven of them, to be exact, and he did not want to be staring at the brown wood of the courtroom styled waiting room when he could be having fun.
Prearranged fun.
He preferred this type over spontaneous fun because he would not have to drop other plans to attend it.
"Louis Anderson?" The official called from her door. Louis snapped out of the trance that the boring wood siding of the room had cruelly gripped him in.
This is stupid. Why did I even sign up for this anyway?
The official smiled and led Louis into her office, instructing him to sit at a chair in front of her desk.
She sat down, filed away a few papers that remained on her desk and brushed some of her black hair out of her Asian eyes. The youthful woman then put on her glasses and folded her hands on the desk.
"Thank you for choosing to come today, Louis. I am the executive foreign species ambassador."
"Good to meet you, ambassador."
She pulled out another file from her cabinet. "My position is relatively new, and until less than a year ago, the science of communicating with foreign species was only theoretical."
Putting the document down like some important treasure (Of which there was no doubt that it actually was valuable), she folded her hands once more. "Based on more than a few eye-witnesses, your position in this whole conflict as well as it's end is significant. Two thirds of the people we brought in said they had seen someone resembling you wield your magic."
Louis looked awkwardly to the side, gripping a sleeve of his camouflage jacket. "It got harder to miss as I got better, I guess."
"One could presume so... However, discussing your skill with the magic object you use is not the only reason we are here."
"Oh. Of course."
"Now... You being a witness to such a huge event, I am required by federal law to tell you what will be done with the information you share with me."
She leaned back in her chair. "Should you wish to share this information regarding the Equestrian conflict, I will make certain that your information does not get published any way other than what you desire. After all, this meeting is only for in-government records."
Louis looked through his long black bangs at the ambassador. "I could lie when I told someone else about the story."
"As could you lie right now. Very little forensic evidence can be drawn up from such an incident as this, so as much as I would like to be avoiding it, I must simply trust you to tell the truth."
"Oh. Okay."
"You may begin when ready, Louis. I look forward to hearing about this incident from your perspective." The ambassador gave a smile.
"I couldn't tell you any of the dates of what happened when."
"That is perfectly fine. None of our witness testimonies were airtight so far."
"Thank you. From my perspective..."
Chapter 1: On Uneasy Hoofsteps
"Okay, look. It was just a stupid box-cutter laceration or something." Louis was driving down the road home in his simple Dodge Caravan, eying the stitches and bandages that now adorned his left hand between his practiced focus on the road. He was talking into his definitely-not smartphone, affectionately christened the "dumbphone". On the other end was his med-school bound girlfriend.
She did not have the exact looks of a supermodel. In fact, with her tied-back red hair, simple glasses, soft blue eyes, and a weight that was actually healthy, she was as normal as they come.
But Louis thought she was the most beautiful normal person he had ever had the fortune of coming across, and he was determined to keep their relationship strong... Even if it was long distance.
She spoke now on the other end. "Yeah, and if you told me correctly, some 'dumb jock' was on the other end of it. What was his name again?"
"Derek. So why did you really call me? I know that it's important to you to know how I'm doing... Very important... but you pretty much never call without a reason. I like your reasons, but I didn't hear this one yet."
"Oh, I just wanted to see if my brony boyfriend was open on Saturday."
"What, do you have a boyfriend who isn't a brony? The way you said it kinda implied something..."
"*Ha ha!* No. Between anatomy class and the rest of life, which includes friends, food and sleep, I only have the time for you. And just so you know, I've dated you for... what? Two years already?"
"Most high-school relationships don't last two years."
"We're different... I hope."
"Yes! We are! Gotta have hope!"
"Yeah, we do! Soooo... are you open?"
"...Sure. You can definitely come on Saturday. My day is as open as the space inside my wallet. And that's a lot of space."
"Great! Don't kill yourself before I get there!"
"I'd rather die than kill myself."
Chelsea let out a chuckle. "Okay then. Love ya stupid."
"Love ya too, ya ditz." As Louis shut off the phone, his mind shot back to the origin of that odd goodbye. Contrary to what most think, they had first learned about each other through the school gossip. Louis was described as stupid, and Chelsea as ditzy. Of course, these were among the more polite descriptors the gossip gave to those undeserving of them. They met later just to prove her wrong and spite her, and neither had any interest in the other until they met.
They exchanged a few words with each other, then started meeting during lunchtime hours, and then things got a bit bigger from there, until the point where they were meeting as often as possible.
They still do, but often just isn't as often as it used to be.
Louis was snapped back to reality when he came across that four way stop just before the Sandy Shores apartment complex where he lived.
He hated that stop with a passion. Not because he couldn't figure it out, but because the other drivers wouldn't. They also had a peculiar habit of flipping the bird at him when he followed the rules.
"Go on, dude. It's your turn. Go. Go. Go- AGAIN WITH THE BIRD! flipping moron. Ha. 'Flipping'."
Hollywood parking today! Yes! Louis simply drove into Sandy Shores' only apartment complex and got out of the car.
Of course, not exercising as much care as he should, he tripped on the wet pavement and dropped his keys right into a mud puddle. His pale face had grown paler as he was struck by the brief terror of falling, but the after effects of this short fall only frustrated him more about his crappy temp job... Especially the recent injury.
He received his "laceration" due to the usual stupid antics of Derek the jock. Said antics included driving the forklift way too fast, chucking empty boxes at other coworkers, and leaving candy wrappers all over his workplace. This made the tedious task of picking boxes to contain merchandise for shipping to stores a little less boring, but the bad effects outweighed the benefits.
This time, he crossed the line.
How?
Derek decided it would be cool to start throwing box cutters at empty boxes, just to see how many could stick. Louis was in the way at the time, and earned four stitches at his med-center trip and permission to go home for his unfortunate position. Derek was summoned by the manager, and Louis hoped that it was to hand him a pink slip.
Louis walked through the wet-yet-not-rotten late-autumn smell of the grey looking lobby, up three staircases, and stopped at the door.
"Crap. I forgot my keys."
10 minutes and some oxygen deprivation from running down and then up those same stairs again, Louis was once more in the comfortably dusty smell of his very own apartment. He breathed it in like one would a sample of fine perfume, then dropped his jacket on a kitchen/dining room chair.
The small apartment had a sort of green theme to it, with a kitchen space by the front door, furnished with a small brown table and four matching chairs. The living room ahead of it had a futon as the main furniture article (Intended for the off chance that his girlfriend had to crash), with a coffee table and a small easy chair in front of the T.V.
Game controllers laid on the coffee table alongside Louis' laptop (Currently open to a million tabs of TV Tropes), and a big door opened up to a small patio, overlooking the nearby neighborhood.
Upstairs were just a blue bathroom and dark green bedroom, separated by a brown hallway. Sure, it was small, but it was a good bargain and just as much home as any other place that you'd call home.
Louis proceeded to indulge in the luxury that was his home by collapsing on the futon and browsing the internet for pony content. This small exercise was always hit-and-miss, as a lot of NSFW items still made it past his unforgiving filters. He'd probably get back to programing those to be tighter once he had the willpower... But a 10 hour work day was not then.
No... 10 hour work days were for MINECRAFT!
...Four gloriously unproductive hours passed, unless you, like Louis, would feel accomplished having finally gotten enough diamonds for a full set of armor.
Regardless of the low-intensity Minecraft binge, it went without question that Louis still had to sleep.
10:00 PM, and all was dark as he ascended the small apartment staircase to his small green bedroom. He literally collapsed onto the bed, heedless that he still wore all his clothing. Of course, this was a usual exercise in the wake of any long day, and a successful tactic towards winning back the sleep that his gainful employment took away from him.
He was out like a light before he even knew it.
It was 8:00 AM Saturday, and something purple was in Louis' bed.
It was unquestionably... Without a doubt...
Purple.
Louis blinked the sleep out of his eyes.
Who the heck put a Twilight Sparkle toy in my bed? When I was sleeping, no less?
Louis got up and inspected the "sleeping" form of the stuffed toy. It was certainly a well done image of the unicorn protagonist from the show. The hair fell in all the right places, each eye was centered correctly, and the Cutie Mark even seemed one with the rest of the cloth, rather than sewn on. Points for craftsmanship, Whoever Mc Whatsonface. He chuckled at the dumb fake name he gave to the creator of the masterpiece.
Then he realized something was quite a bit different. While loyal to the proportions of the show, the stuffed toy looked more like a taxidermist's work than that of a craftsman. The purple strands of mane and tail, as well as the fur that covered it seemed to have come from an actual horse.
It still was just a good imitation of Twilight Sparkle, and he'd have to give this back to whatever prankster left this for him. He began searching for a tag or something to identify its source.
...Now that I think about it, I could swear it looks like it's breathing... Animatronic?!
He gave it a little poke on the nose, and it sleepily swiped a hoof at the offending finger.
Louis gasped loudly and ran like his stinkin' butt was on fire, and was outside his apartment before he could think of why he was even running... Then he gave himself a good, firm face-palm for letting a figment of his imagination best him so.
...And the landlord hates this much racket this early in the morning... Ah well... Time to figure out what to do with that stuffed toy.
Louis casually walked back into his apartment, only to find it had been rendered completely dark. A few experimental flicks of the nearby light switch did nothing, but he shrugged it off, deciding to get his cell phone and inform the electrician.
"DON'T MOVE." A female voice shouted. Louis froze, mid pace. It would have looked very dorky if it weren't for the darkness.
What the crap is Tara Strong doing in my appartment? How would she even get here so quick?
"I am the 6th Element of Harmony, Twilight Sparkle. You will keep still while I determine if you are a threat."
"Tara? If that's you, I don't care if you're a celebrity, just get out of my house! Stop freaking me out!"
"..." A dull thump could be heard. Something collided with something else, It was just that Louis did not know what with what.
"Seriously. Get out or I WILL call the cops. I don't care if you play the part of my favorite pony."
"SHUT UP. I don't know who you think I am, but I am certainly not this Terrace person you keep talking about. Now DON'T MOVE. I've magicked this room to be completely dark to everyone but me. Trust me. I CAN see you."
Oh great. Now she's gone crazy too.
"Tara" ran through an extremely professional pat-down, emptying the meager contents of his pockets, before dragging him into one of the chairs at the small kitchen table. The chair on the opposite end scooted, and something four-legged settled in to it.
"Okay... Now I'm going to turn the lights on again-"
"Wait, 'Twilight'. I thought you just cast a darkness spell or something."
"Well, actually, that is still true to some extent. I just re-routed the electrons into the ground so the power- Auuh- DON'T DISTRACT ME!"
"WOAH okay, okay. Just turn on the lights so you can interrogate me or something... Psycho..."
"You are correct. I am going to interrogate you. I have more than a few-"
"Isn't that all kinds of illegal in Equestria?"
"... I have no idea if I'm still in Equestria, so I decided to play it safe and presume we aren't."
"How's that safe?! What if you're caught?!"
"QUIT DISTRACTING ME. Your kind doesn't exist in Equestria, so I presume we aren't even there! Now..."
With that, Twilight reactivated the lights. Louis, naturally, leapt in his chair with great force, such as to have the chair fall over. The whole time, it was not a crazy celebrity that had invaded his home (however illogical that is to presume), nor was there a random Twilight toy in his house (Which looked far too real, and yet too "undisturbing" (By which, I mean, realistic enough to bypass uncanny valley.) to be fake) left by some crazy person as a joke.
That was clearly Twilight Sparkle: Unicorn and, in his mind, best pony.
Louis' brain broke.