//------------------------------// // Dealing With the Devil's Plaything // Story: Becoming Rainbow Dash: A Tale of Two Worlds // by Freescript the Bard //------------------------------// A loud groan escaped my lips. I was dazed, so much so that I swore felt blades of grass brushing my fingertips. But that would be impossible; I was Rainbow Dash, and Rainbow Dash didn’t have fingertips. Schist, she didn’t even have hands. Moving around, I discovered that someone had completely clothed me. Denim brushed my hind legs and my surplus jacket weighed lightly on my forelegs. From the redness behind my eyelids, I was somewhere with a lot of sunlight, so I tried to open my eyes slowly to avoid being blinded. To move was a little awkward, like I wasn’t quite moving the right joints. That was when the headache hit me again. “Gah!” I grunted, holding my head. My hooves felt odd on my hair, again, as if I had fingers. Which was, as previously stated, impossible. I was a pony, after all. I must be delirious, I thought. This headache is... clouding my judgement. “No, I can assure you that you’re very much lucid,” said a very familiar voice. A shiver shot up my spine. Oh schist... I froze, trying not to make any sudden movements. Discord!? “Wrong again.” Huh? I opened my eyes. To my surprise, the sun didn’t glare as much as I thought it would, letting me see the owner of the voice. He was a taller man, dressed in some kind of black and red jumpsuit, like the ones from Star Trek. The Next Generation, not the original. His face was well past his prime, with dark hair that was laced with grey. Then it hit me who it was. “John de Lancie?” The actor nodded. “In the flesh,” he said. Not that I heard him. The sound of my own voice had startled me into another discovery; one that sent me into confusion. My voice was male again, with no trace of Dash’s rough tomboy speech. Looking down at myself, I saw my own two legs, ending in my black tennis shoes. I saw my arms and my hands as they were before I had changed. Flexing them now, they felt more alien than hooves. At the edge of my vision, I could barely see the bangs of my long, shaggy brown hair. Am I dreaming? I asked myself. “No, actually,” John said, somehow hearing my inner thoughts as he was before, as he turned to look off somewhere else. Following his gaze, I found that we were perched on the crest of a large, grassy hill, surrounded by similar rises and other wooded areas. Cutting through it was a gravel boreen that wound between the hills into the distance, where I could barely make out the rooftops of a small town. “You fainted. You can’t dream when you’re unconscious,” John de Lancie continued. “This is just a projection. Tell me, what do you think this place is?” I took another glance around the landscape. “Ireland, I think, somewhere near Banbridge,” I answered. It did look a lot like a picture my grandparents sent me during their trip to Ireland a few years ago. “Does it matter?” “Discord wanted to know.” John looked back at me with a grin. This instantly put me on the defensive again. Hefted myself up to my feet (rather awkwardly, since I had just gotten used to walking on hooves) and backed away. “You’re working with Discord!? What the schist, man!?” That would explain how he projected himself into my head. Now if only I could get him out. “He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” he replied cooly, holding his palms to me innocently. “It was a similar offer he made to you.” “That chronicler thing? Forget it. That schist is more rigged and shifty than a politician’s lawyer.” John shook his head. “I apologize about my associate’s methods,” said john sincerely. “Discord sent me here to explain things more plainly. No tricks. No gimmicks. Just plain and simple English. Ask any questions you may need.” So he wants to discuss contracts huh? I’d sooner trust Crowley the Demon King with contracts than any friend of Discord’s. “Fine,” I grunted, relaxing my muscles but still keeping my guard up. “What’s in it for me? What do I get from this?” “Full immunity for yourself and those close to you; you would be safe from the oncoming storm that will inevitably send this world into eternal chaos,” John began. “You would also be immediately separated from Rainbow Dash upon acceptance, with all memories and your mind intact; Rainbow Dash would also be granted the same immunity; and both of you will have a sanctuary of your choice. This, on top of a monthly salary of your choosing; no limit.” I noted each benefit and considered them. “When you say Rainbow Dash gets the same immunity...” “I mean that she is also able to protect those close to her.” With a nod, I proceeded with my next question. “What exactly does Discord want me to do?” John snapped his fingers, and two chairs appeared behind himself and I. While he sat, however, I remained defiantly standing. “Discord is a child in a god’s body, and I feel that he thinks as much as well,” he explained. “I assume you are familiar with Metatron?” “The Decepticon or the angel?” I sassed back sarcastically. Of course, I knew very well about the scribe of the Christian God. “You would become a sort of Metatron for him,” he continued, unperturbed. “You see, Discord can be very disorganized and can procrastinate. He calls it ‘being busy,’ but I know better. In his chaos, he would like a reference to look back on; a story of his deeds. He doesn’t like repetition, so he needs to keep track of what he’s already done so he doesn’t end up doing something similar twice. Also, he needs someone to be the...” He reached into the collar of his jumpsuit and pulled out a slip of paper. “...the High Marquis of Cheesecakelandia.” John sighed audibly and facepalmed. “I hate him so much sometimes.” I groaned at the play on my name. “You’d think someone like him would have a bucking sense of humor.” “In any event, that’s the entire deal,” he concluded. “As you can see, much more simple than he makes it out to be. To accept, all you need to do is speak his name with that intention, and he will find you.” “What makes you so sure I’m going to accept?” I retorted, keeping a glare on him. John chuckled amiably. “I’m not. I just want you to consider it.” He looked off into the distance for a moment, seemingly to admire the Irish landscape. “Tell me, since we have the time, how are you doing in the world as a pony?” “You try walking with hooves,” I spat. “I mean as a whole,” clarified John. “You haven’t run into any trouble? Nothing with that whole anti-pony movement that’s starting up?” “Anti-pony movement...” I thought back to the news surfing I did before we departed Taylor’s place. One thing that was mentioned a lot was a large gathering of people that blamed this whole crisis on the ponies. Some rogue sects even went so far as hunting and hurting people that had turned into ponies, but that was thankfully rare. “PAPA? No, I haven’t seen hide nor hair of them.” “Mmm...” de Lancie looked thoughtful for a few seconds. “Be wary. From my contacts, their reach is longer than you think. Very near you somewhere is one of their... key players. He is a very powerful man, with extraordinary capacities beyond most other humans.” I blinked in surprise. “Powerful?” “In human standards, probably the greatest mind of the age. Watch out for him. He can be curious about things he doesn’t know much about, and this pony phenomena is curious for everyone, including him.” “Wait, why the hell would you tell me this!?” I exclaimed, pointing at him accusingly. “You’re working for Discord! Why warn me about anything!?” “You’re a smart boy, Markus,” stated John, getting up from the chair. Around us, the world began to blur, and my headache throbbed back into existence. “Figure it out.”