Ever since the Middle east, I, Booker Gray have woken every single morning at five-thirty, no matter how late I was up the night before. Even on weekends. Thus is the way of my schedule. I recognize that that sounds impossible, but with caffeine, nothing is.
But on this morning, after the events of the day before, when the alarm went off, I let it ring. Fortunately, today was a Saturday, so work was not mandatory for me. I'm not sure if I would have been able to anyway.
Eventually, the harsh beeping ended itself and I rolled over and stared at the ceiling, thinking. I never had the feelings for Twilight that Twilight had for me, it never crossed my mind. But I was still sad. I mean, no on in their right mind would revel in the utterly unintentional feeling-destruction of another extra-terrestrial being, especially one as adorable as mine.
That's not to say that I wasn't interested. Though I wasn't sure just how exactly everything would have worked out, I was more than willing to give it a shot.
But the fact that I did not share Twilight's feelings just made me feel guilty. And then I was actually kind of angry. At myself for not being able to control my reaction, and then at Twilight for overreacting in such a way. And that anger toward Twilight made me feel even more guilty.
Eventually, however, even on a Saturday, even if I felt like crap, as I most certainly did, I did manage to drag myself out of bed. I had to do something, be it about Twilight's self-banishment or just anything at all, I couldn't laze the entire day away. Well, I could, but not in bed.
And so, I began to do what I always to to calm me down: I got on the computer. Now what? Code? Video games? Music? I could make music, though perhaps it's not that great. I gave it a shot anyways and I was relatively satisfied with the result. Sadly, this did not make me feel any better.
Java? Sure, why not.
I threw together a simple application, one that generated Gryphon Names, and that made me feel a little bit better. Then I checked the time. Seven o' three.
I got up and stalked my way into the kitchen. I didn't feel like anything solid, not even Fruity Pebbles (I know) - so I just grabbed a couple of energy drinks and returned to my geek lair.
At least, I almost did.
On the way back to my electronics, I stopped something in the television room, in the same spot where Twilight had always appeared when she came and left; a mark on the ground.
I set down one can and opened up the other, absentmindedly sipping it as I went to investigate.
Yes, definitely. There on the carpet, was a very, very faint layer of . . . green dust? Yeah, a ring of it.
Naturally, I bent down and rubbed my finger on it. I startled when all of my hair stood up on and and my finger jolted. I fell back on my ass, spilling some of my drink as I did so. Damn it, 'Twi, you run out on me and then make me spill my caffeine? I am disappoint.
Okay, this is most definitely something worth my interest.
I went into my bathroom and collected a pair of tweezers and a Ziploc bag, which I used to gather a sample. The rest got swept up and put in a tiny jar.
Alright, before we continue, I realize that what I did next was not the most . . . professional of things, but it was all I could do: I returned to my bedroom and dug around a bit in my closet. A few minutes later, I emerged with a microscope in my grasp. Kind of a . . . not laboratory-grade one. It was an old toy of mine.
But, even after all of that effort, my results were inconclusive.
So, stupidly, I tried touching it again. Zap. Ow.
I was, once more, at a loss.
Poke. Zap. Damn it.
"Alright then, this is not progress in any form," I said to myself. After a bit of more pondering and calling upon my college science classes, I opted to return to the crime scene.
Again nothing.
Suddenly, I was struck with an idea.
I returned to my bedroom once more and returned with the letter upon which was elegantly written the bad news of the night before, and I tore a tiny corner off.
With the tweezers (What a scientist I am, eh?) - I held the little bit of parchment over the open jar, the thing layer of electric green dust laying at the bottom.
I dropped the shred and startled when, as soon as it came into contact with the substance, it vanished. Alright . . . progress? . . .
- - -
Spike the dragon's lovely mid-afternoon walk on the way to the marketplace was interrupted, rather rudely, by the sudden arrival of . . . a bit of parchment. A tiny bit of paper.
Spike was baffled; the belch needed to spawn with tiny, torn-off corner was astronomical, much larger than any normal, Celestial scroll. Spike shook his head and decided to ignore the incident and making a mental note to speak with Twilight about it as he waddled into the main Ponyville marketplace.
- - -
A raised fist pounded on a door. Silence. More pounding. Suddenly, the door opened, and Johnathan Smelt leaped backward a bit as his friend, Booker, wrenched the door open.
"Woah, Booker, what's going on?"
"Ooh . . . nothing of importance, really, just been kind of busy. What . . . what do you need?"
"We had a LAN party planned, remember?"
Booker's eyes widened suddenly.
"Oh! Alright, I totally forgot. Hold on, let me grab my gear."
John smirked a bit as he looked at Booker oddly.
"You sure I'm not interrupting anything?"
"Well . . . you are, but it's not important, really, I don't care."
John could only frown as his friend spidered back inside and returned only moments later with one of his laptops and a case of Red Bull.
Again, John raised his eyebrow and then smirked. Booker chuckled and the two, both of them baffled for different reasons, went down the hallway and toward the stairs.
- - -
Very similarly, just someplace very, very far away, a raised hoofed thudded gently against a much thicker door, one that belonged to a library rather than an apartment.
But not very similarly, the door was answered immediately, and Rarity was met with the smiling face of Twilight Sparkle.
"Hello, Rarity! What can I do for you?"
Rarity hesitated. Her friend seemed . . . too upbeat. But Rarity ignored the feeling and returned the smile and answered, saying, "Well, this is a library, is it not?"
"Oh Rarity, I've told you; you don't need to knock for that!"
"Well then, may I come in?"
"Of course!"
Rarity pursed her lip, but crossed the threshold anyway.
"What book exactly is it that you are looking for?"
"That would be 'The Misadventures of Calvin Clydesdale.'"
"Oh! That would be right here!"
Rarity suddenly had a rather rough muzzle-full of book.
Rarity took some time to recover and said, "Um, Twilight?"
"Yes?"
"I . . . is everything alright?"
"Of course! Why wouldn't everything be alright?"
"Well I don't know, darling, but you seem a bit odd to me."
"Oh, well it's nothing! . . ."
"What is? . . ."
"Nothing!"
Twilight's upbeat tone remained, but Rarity could definitely sense that it was becoming rather strained.
"Twilight, dear, you know that I can help you? You know that you can tell me anything?"
Finally, Twilight's disguised sadness came to the surface and she collapsed to her haunches, her eyes cast down to the floor and her shoulders slumped.
Rarity set the book down and trotted closer to Twilight and joined her.
"What is it?"
"Well . . . this is going to be a bit . . . odd."
- - -
"See ya!"
"Yeah, later."
I gently swung my door shut and set down my computer. As much as I loved Johnathan and all of my pals, I couldn't help but feel that the past seven hours had been a bit of a waste.
Oh well, at least it had given some stress release. But now that I was back home and saw the jar and bag with green dust sitting on my desk, my bag of mixed feelings returned, and, as it seemed I had been doing quite a bit that day, I sighed.
Should I just give up? I mean, Twilight's a dramatic creature, but I'm sure that she'd eventually come back.
But, another voice said, I wasn't willing to risk that. And, as much as I knew, I wasn't.
"Alright. That green dust is the key for me to tray and communicate with Twilight, or perhaps . . . " I thought occurred to me. A crazy one that I wasn't sure would really happen. " . . . . for me to get to her . . . . "
That was kind of frightening. Would I even be able to get back? Probably, but should that be risked.
I steeled myself. I was a marine, I know how to take risks, it was part of my job.
And so I did something that my mind had actually been nagging at me to try for a long time, but I hadn't wanted to, well, risk it.
I grabbed my most powerful laptop, my phone, a whole stack of batteries, my journal, one of my guns, an old MRE or two, and threw them all into a dufflebag, which I threw onto my back. Then I went over to my desk and opened up the Ziploc back, joined the two stashes of dust together and then held the jar up above my head.
I hesitated.
There was more than half an inch of the stuff just sitting in my grasp, some odd, inter-dimensional substance that had caused me pain when I came into contact with it. And I was indeed about to come into full contact with all of it.
"Well, why not?"
And the I dumped it.
- - -
"Well, Twilight, you were most definitely not lying when you said that the situation was 'odd.'"
"I just don't know what to do!"
"Twilight," Rarity said in an even tone, "think about it. You kissed him almost out of nowhere, of course he was going to be surprised. But that's not to say that his reaction was a bad one."
Twilight bit her lip and turned Rarity's words over in her mind. Then, he snorted, amused.
Needless to say, Rarity was a bit confused.
"What's so funny?"
"Well, it's just that, I've known you all for years now and I'm still a socially awkward bookworm deep down inside."
Rarity smiled. The two sat in silence, in the middle of the floor for a few moments before their time together was interrupted by the opened of the door.
"Twilight! Something weird happened! Oh, hey Rarity. Wait . . . what's going on?"
The two ponies exchanged glances and let go of one another, standing up.
"Never mind, Spike," Twilight said, "What is is that was so 'weird?'"
"Oh, well, you know how you get and send your letters to and from Princess Celestia from me?"
"Yes? . . . "
"Well, I had that feeling today, on the way to the market - here's the groceries, by the way - but, well, this is all that came out."
Spike gave Twilight the tiny corner of paper. Twilight's eyes widened as she read the few words that had been taken off with it.
"This . . . this is part of the letter that Princess Celestia . . . . "
Twilight trailed off as a tell-tale light began to glow in the center of the room. It grew brighter and brighter, pure white light, and the three occupants of the room were all forced to shield their eyes. Suddenly, the light went down.
And there, laying in the middle of the floor, his clothes and bag smoking, was Booker Gray.