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// Prologue: Newly-Minted Thespians 
// Story: The Super Awesome Story About Stuff 
// by BlackRoseRaven 
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Prologue: Newly-Minted Thespians
~BlackRoseRaven

        Everything began as it always did: with a bang, not a whimper; with a clash and a clamor and nothing but noise. But the first few seconds is always chaos, as the stage falls into place like oversized blocks of lego dropping in front of a badly-made backdrop, followed by the meteoric fall – as they so rarely rise – of the main characters, the protagonists of this little journey.
In this case, they quite literally fall from the sky, one of them screaming, one of them swearing, one of them cackling and the two companions with this particular-mare – whom I, the Narrator, am quite sure will already be particularly frustrating – shouting away at her, more concerned with how much she seems to be enjoying this than their sudden drop from nowhere towards the earth below. They are arguing guests plummeting towards a stoic host to whom they are shortly going to be introduced, face-first.
Those who have wings flap them wildly, but their speed is too great and the air seems to rush past their feathers, as if the world itself has no intention of slowing their descent. But even as they crash down, one after the other and then three in one catastrophic bang, even as the world shakes with their impact and the trees sway and the winds gasp through the fields, no one has to ask to know that these ponies are all perfectly okay.
“I think I'm the opposite of okay...” mumbled a chocolate-brown unicorn as she picked herself up on shaky legs, her emerald eyes blinking weakly before she shook herself slowly. She reached up and scrubbed a bit of grass from her blonde mane as she took a moment to steady herself, then she looked quickly around before her eyes widened slightly as she saw a stallion laying in a broken heap nearby.
“Hey? Hey! Are you alright?” The mare hurried towards the fellow unicorn, eyes wide as she reached towards him... then flinched back when he suddenly rolled onto his stomach, snapping awake and moving immediately into a ready position with teeth bared, as if he expected to be attacked.
She stumbled back a step, biting her lip and staring at him as he glared back at her... then the stallion snorted before shaking himself once: if he was dizzy or confused at all by what had happened, he was doing a good job of hiding it. “Fine.”
“I... are you sure?” The mare shifted a little, nervously drawing her eyes over him: she felt a bit battered herself from the fall, but the stallion had some nasty bruises showing through his white coat, and his armor looked like it had been badly damaged. Whatever had protected them clearly hadn't taken into account the extra weight of his armor. Then again, it also hadn't accounted for her... well, her own eccentricities. But there would be time to think about that later.
He only ignored her, though... not that she could entirely blame him, since she was distracted a moment later by several loud, frustrated yells, the two ponies looking at the last three who had fallen beside them.
They were currently scuffling with each other, as if none of them cared that they had all just fallen into a field from a clear blue sky for no apparent reason. The mare was rather surprised by what they looked like all the same, however: one was a violet mare, one was a black stallion, and one was a sapphire blue pony who seemed strangely familiar...
Finally, the three shoved themselves apart, glaring at each other... or more precisely, two of them glared at the third, the blue pony seated in the middle. She only huffed loudly, however, crossing her forelegs and raising her horned head high as a mane of ephemeral starlight swirled and settled around her, wings flapping once before they furled closed as she complained: “'Twas not my doing! Scrivener Blooms, Twilight Sparkle, both of thee wound me so with such accusations!”
The violet mare sighed loudly as she reached up to scrub at her features with a hoof... and then she frowned suddenly, rubbing quickly over her face again before looking down at her hoof dumbly. The stallion blinked at this, then he straightened slightly as the three ponies all stared at each other, then, in unconscious, somehow creepy synchronization, wildly slapped and grabbed at their own bodies, gaping down at themselves as if...
“Princess Luna?” The brown unicorn looked with surprise at the white stallion as he strode quickly forwards, perhaps the slightest trace of disbelief on his features... although he was quick to hide whatever emotion he had felt, saluting and saying briskly: “Ma'am. Lieutenant River Styx, requesting briefing.”
“Oh, so thou art going to blame me too? Damn all of thee!” Luna whined loudly, making the brown unicorn mare blink in surprise: she hadn't really visualized the Princess of the Night as so... well... “And who art thou, mare also staring at me most rudely? Well... at least thy cutie mark is promising.”
Luna licked her lips slowly as the brown unicorn blushed a bit, looking back at the mark on her flank: a green apple that had been dipped in chocolate, sweet strands of sugary goodness spilling down the emerald fruit. “I uh... my name is Marina Wildheart and um...” She dropped her head a little, blushing as she felt the princess' eyes on her, unable to stop from feeling intimidated under that domineering gaze.
River Styx was still standing at attention, although he was frowning ever-so-slightly, as if something was wrong... but Luna almost completely ignored him as she turned towards the black stallion beside him, smacking him firmly and making Marina stare. “Introduce us.”
“How? I don't know what the hell to say. I don't even know who the hell we are anymore. I mean, look at us.” the stallion retorted, gesturing at himself before he reached down and slapped his own cutie mark: a black rose blossom, with a raven-feather quill above it. “We all look... normal.”
For a moment, the stallion gazed past Luna towards Twilight Sparkle, who blushed ever so slightly as she silently rubbed a hoof along her own smooth chest-
“Never say such things!” Luna shouted furiously, then she slammed a hoof into the stallion's face, knocking him sprawling into a prone heap. He twitched weakly on the ground a few times, and there was an uncomfortable silence for the longest time, before Luna huffed loudly and composed herself, calmly brushing a bit of dirt from her coat before she clambered to her hooves and said briskly: “This is Scrivener Blooms, and the mare is Twilight Sparkle, and I...”
Luna reached up and touched her own neck... and then her eyes slowly widened as she visibly paled before grabbing wildly at her throat. Both River Styx and Marina stared as the sapphire mare began to flail around, looking almost like she was throttling herself before she shouted in a horrified voice: “My Promise! My Promise is gone, Scrivy, my Promise... no, all of our Promises are gone!”
“How terrible.” Scrivener muttered from where his face was planted in the ground, and Luna's eye twitched as she froze and glared at him. But the black stallion only sighed tiredly as he picked himself carefully up from the ground, brushing dirt out of his messy white mane as he looked at her meditatively with his deep brown eyes. “I'm not worried because... well, we're still linking, yes?”
All three odd ponies frowned at once, then nodded, and Marina hesitantly shifted closer towards River Styx before she asked in a whisper: “Is... is this normal for the princess?”
River Styx only gave her a brief look, then turned his eyes back towards the Princess before he cleared his throat and said calmly: “Directive 82.1 states-”
“It states thou art a butt.” Luna interrupted, and River Styx narrowed his eyes ever so slightly before Luna sniffed loudly, then declared: “Scrivener Blooms is correct and we must now find a way to escape this wretched world!”
“Um... excuse me, but... I don't know what you're talking about. I just know that we... well, we fell out of... does anyone remember what happened?” Marina asked suddenly, looking up uncertainly. “I feel... I feel almost like I can hear a voice, telling me what to do...”
River Styx turned his eyes towards Marina, frowning as he measured her with his gaze, and Marina blushed deeply before she shook her head hurriedly and rose a hoof, blurting: “Not like that! I mean... I just mean it sounds like someone is... talking and I can hear it and-”
“River of Sticks, thou art so sour. Cease all this sourness. Thou art not a tart, so there is no need to act the role of one.” Luna paused meditatively as all eyes turned towards her as she continued thoughtfully: “But 'tis funny. For there are many tarts that are not tart at all. Scrivy, tell me why tarts are called tarts?”
“Because if you called them tiny pies everyone would be confused and disappointed.” Scrivener replied dourly, and Luna gave him a grumpy look before the stallion glanced over at the soldier. “Having seen that look a lot over the past few decades, I know that you're probably about to try and attack us. All I can say is that's not a good idea.”
River Styx only narrowed his eyes, pawing at the ground slowly as Marina looked up uncomfortably, and Twilight bit her lip nervously as she shifted slightly to the side. But Luna was grinning widely, eyes gleaming as she licked her lips slowly and looked almost eagerly at the Royal Guard. Then she huffed in disappointment when he only continued to look at her measuringly, not allowing himself to be baited.
But before things could get any worse, there was a sudden loud pop, and the attention of all the ponies was drawn towards a pair of Draconequus that had appeared out of thin air. One of them was bespectacled and sour-looking, tall and terribly ominous; the other was anxious-looking and much shorter, scribbling wildly away on a pad.
“Well, 'tis a point for Scrivener's theory.” muttered Luna, although Marina still had no idea what the mare could possibly be talking about. Then again, nothing in the world was making sense right now, and it was all she could do not to simply faint and curl up in the fetal position... and how the hell was River Styx still looking so calm?
The lieutenant was simply glaring balefully at the Draconequus, now in a ready position, his horn faintly thrumming with energy. Not that either Draconequus seemed perturbed by this: the anxious one was still writing wildly away and the tall, scary one was simply looking over them all, studying them coldly. He had eyes like ice, and his horse-like face was thin almost to the point of being skeletal. His hands were visibly different sizes, but covered by white gloves, as entire body was masked by a neat suit: it did nothing to hide his strange proportions, but certainly did a good job of hiding his chimerical body.
Luna glared up at this Draconequus defiantly: the fact she could already be defiant was rather amazing, considering the fact he hadn't tried to make them agree or disagree to anything quite yet. “Art thou the puppetmaster?”
“No. Merely an editor, appraising the value of a work.” said the Draconequus disdainfully, scowling as his eyes flicked back and forth. “So far? The setting is subpar and the characters pugnacious. I suppose work in the name of so-called 'good' is always done cheaply, however: oh no, one would never want to spend a modicum of time upon philanthropy if it came with naught in return.”
“Is that... n-o-t or...” The second Draconequus quailed and immediately shut his mouth under the burning glare of the first, shrinking his sheep-like head into his shoulders. Tiny little horns glinted above big, frightened eyes as he forced a smile, the chubby little Draconequus holding up his pen and clipboard as he said awkwardly: “We'll get it in editing. How about that?”
The tall, intimidating Draconequus rolled his eyes, and then he calmly turned back towards the ponies, glancing over them for a few moments before he said moodily: “There are more protagonists present than expected, but I suppose we will adjust for the situation. As it stands, others may not arrive, after all.”
“Very well. I suppose I shall play along with thy game, creature, for I have little better to do. And 'tis not like I have not been the victim of a Draconequus' diversion in the past.” Luna said boldly, apparently deciding to speak for everypony present. Marina looked at her uncomfortably and River Styx frowned, but Luna pointedly ignored them as she asked: “What is thy name, creature? Why do we look different? Why-”
“Everything will be answered in time.” The Draconequus held up a gloved hand, and Luna glared at him before he continued calmly: “You will simply refer to me as the Critic. I am an instrument of the Narrator overseeing this wretched little project. The strata you are within is called The Theater. Each of you has been... volunteered, if you will allow the euphemism, to play a role in our current production, a character in a story that shall be written by the many.”
“Sounds like a great idea.” Scrivener Blooms said cynically, and then he winced when Twilight nudged him firmly, before he asked hesitantly: “Our bodies...”
“They are neither present nor missing; your physical selves lay elsewhere, and we adjusted each of you and your abilities as according to our... personal standards for the production.” The Critic said moodily, brushing a gloved hand slowly against his chest. “Do take note that if you should happen to die while our production is underway, you will not leave this place until the play is complete. You will simply be forced to fulfill a different role in our production company.”
The Draconequus snapped his fingers, and reality itself was yanked up like a backdrop only a few feet away, the ponies staring in shock at the sight of countless enslaved ponies running in enormous wheels, keeping an ancient network of massive gears spinning slowly along, steam venting here and there out of blackened machinery.
Then, with but a flick his fingers, reality dropped back into place with a thump, nothing but blue skies and fields, not a trace of the secret machinery beneath the surface of this storybook world present any longer... it was almost as if reality was a reflective pool, and when its crystalline surface was disturbed, through the ripples could be glimpsed the cruel reality of what powered the beauty and pleasantry of the gorgeous world all around them; the truth that all love could stem only from pain, that all peace was earned and paid for in the-
“Restrain yourself, Narrator.” The Critic said moodily.
He said it in his annoying I'm-always-right-and-I'm-better-than-you-voice, very similar to a little brat who-
“Are you truly going to test my patience? Because you should know by now that I will not hesitate to call upon The Redacted.”
There was silence for a few moments as the ponies looked with confusion at the Critic... although all of them had heard the whispers in their mind. The whisper that sounded like a little voice, one they could hear clearly if they concentrated on it: like the voice of imagination, or their conscience. Not that Luna ever had much of a conscience.
Luna huffed loudly, then she glanced moodily over at the Critic, one eyebrow raised slightly in question. The Critic looked at her contemptibly, clearly not a fan of the silent question, but he answered all the same: “That would be our... somewhat difficult compatriot. He is both storyteller and chorus, explaining things to both the audience and to you, our players. He is fickle, but is both a prisoner and celebrator of his esteemed role.”
“What makes you think we'll just play along?” River Styx asked suddenly, scowling darkly up at the Draconequus, and Critic slowly narrowed his eyes as his assistant whimpered a little and half-hid behind his clipboard, even as he continued to hurriedly write. “What's to stop us from escaping?”
“Very well, I will indulge you, my hard-headed erstwhile companion.” The Critic said moodily, and then he turned around and gestured calmly outwards at the world around them. “This entire world stands between you and your goal. If you participate in our play and struggle to the end of the adventure, you will go free, with our blessing for putting on such a spectacular show for the audience. And so long as you entertain the spectators and do not trouble the company unduly, the world will treat you as you are used to being treated.
“However, disobey or deride us or cause other displeasures...” The Critic turned slowly around, scowling a little as ponies of all shape and size seemed to appear as if from thin air all around them, striding through the grass and out from behind trees as if they had always been there. They all looked normal... but their eyes were terrible, hollow pits, faces emotionless, their movements as jagged as puppets pulled along on string. “The stage company does not take kindly to such things. And far worse, you may earn the ire of The Redacted. Believe you me, sirs: you do not desire to tangle with that particular entity.”
Luna set herself and gritted her teeth, glaring back and forth as Twilight and Scrivener both readied themselves as well, the stallion digging his hooves into the ground... then swearing in surprise when nothing happened. The Critic smiled thinly over at the three, studying them before he said mildly: “We adjusted you to avoid as many spoilers as possible for our audience. There is no need to cross-contaminate storylines. As I believe I mentioned before, you have been... adjusted.”
Luna bared her fangs as Twilight lowered her head, horn beginning to glow, and Scrivener grimaced but took a breath and readied himself, glaring defiantly at the horde of soulless ponies closing in on all sides. River Styx seemed just as ready, his head raised, his own horn glowing as he glared out at the crowd... but Marina was trembling, trying to shrink away from the hollow ponies, looking around in desperation for something, anything she could use...
And then, when she looked back up at the crowd, the ponies were simply gone, as if they had never been there at all. There was only silence, the mare staring disbelievingly out over the rolling fields before The Critic said calmly: “We are still awaiting some small inputs from the audience as yet, but otherwise, the play is ready to begin. We have set the stage, and our prologue has commenced. Soon, the chorus will take up their places, and the play shall begin in earnest.”
The Critic smiled thinly, looking over them with haughty arrogance in spite of his constant flip-flopping between story metaphors and play metaphors-
“Narrator, silence. End the scene.” The Critic said irritably, and Luna scowled, opening her mouth... but not even she could snap out an insult fast enough before the Draconequus vanished, along with his anxious assistant.
The five ponies were left together with only each other's company, and there was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments before Luna finally turned around and cleared her throat loudly, declaring: “I shall be the hero of this story. Or at the very least, the villain. Thus, all of thee are to follow in my lead. Understood?”
River Styx looked at Luna moodily for a moment, then he shook his head before turning and striding away from this crazed mare: whoever she was, it was obvious she wasn't the Princess. And unlike the rest of them, he had no intention of playing along with these stupid games. He had to get out of here and back home. He had something much more important than some chaos entity's idea of a play or story or whatever the hell this was to deal with.
Marina, meanwhile, looked nervously over at Luna before she gave a weak smile to the mare, as the sapphire pony bared large, strangely-sharp teeth in a wide grin, and then she swallowed thickly before turning and hurrying after River Styx: unfriendly or not, he at least was a Royal Guard, like her brother... and well, he felt like a better choice than the trio of strange ponies. Maybe they could help each other out...
Luna glowered, dropping her hooves and scowling horribly before Scrivener and Twilight simply shrugged and walked past her as well, following the other ponies, and the mare snorted before grumbling: “I hope for the Draconequus' sake this is an interesting story. There had best be much for me to pummel along the way, 'lest I grow bored and pummel all of thee. Especially thou, Scrivy. This is all thy fault.”
“Yes, dear. I know.” Scrivener said dryly as Twilight smiled faintly, before the stallion sighed tiredly as he reflected moodily that he was getting far too used to things like this.
And so the five trudged on through the sprawling fields, all of them with only one goal in mind: to escape. They had yet to realize that they were trapped, as we are all trapped, in the strings of unseen puppeteers, their actions predicted, their hooves guided as if by ghosts, drawn unknowingly deeper into the play with every passing step of their-
“Oh shut up, wretched voice.” Luna grumbled sourly from the back of the column, glowering up at the sky. “Thy rambles are harder to take than Celestia's endless lecturing on how I should behave. Great stupid voice.”
Then a large rock fell out of the sky and landed on Luna's head, knocking her sprawling and leaving her in a daze. And for a moment, the other ponies could only stare over their shoulders at her before they all came to the uncomfortable realization that they were little more than pawns in the game of an invisible foe... and there was nothing they could do but play along.