//------------------------------// // Chapter Four: Scapegoats and Encounters // Story: Cultural Cascade // by The Based God //------------------------------// The morning sun rose over the abandoned train station, bathing the interior with light and waking up several humans who were sprawled out on the floor. Thirty-three humans gave collective groans of pain and discomfort, no doubt stemming from sleeping on the cold, hard ground all night, as well as the hardships from the day that had come before. A few of them were probably still working out that it wasn't a dream they had gone through. Francis and Albert were already up, having risen with the sun. They had a responsibility as the de-facto leaders to make sure that everyone was running smoothly, and that meant getting up earlier than everyone else to prepare for today's assignments. "Are you sure you want me to handle this? It seems it would boil over better if you were here to control the crowd," Francis asked Albert as the two men began readying themselves for Albert's trip. Albert nodded, while lifting his armpit and sniffing. It wasn't a high priority, but they would have to find someway for all of them to bathe and wash their clothes. The smell would become overpowering after a few days. "Yeah, I'll let you handle it. Making contact with those equines should be a high priority of ours, and I need to be the one to do it," he replied. Francis nodded. "Are you ready?" Francis asked Martin, who was standing alongside him. Martin nodded, and Francis placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder before looking out at the lobby. "Don't worry. Everything is going to be fine." About half an hour later, Albert had left the station, and the rest of the group had been called for an important meeting. Therefore, thirty-one people sat side-by-side in the station's lobby, much like they did the previous night. "Where's Albert?" Dan Bradley asked irritably. "And why's the kid up there with you?" the old man asked, pointing a gnarly finger at Martin Louverture. Most of the group wore expressions of curiosity, save for Martin's family. They knew exactly what was going on, and Priscilla in general was ready to deal with the consequences, for better or for worse. "Well, everyone. We have figured out the truth of these circumstances. I am about to tell you the reason we are here..." The world seemed to like surprising the group, because once again they fell silent enough to hear a pin drop. People began to shout and argue like they weren't used to such things by now, but Francis of course was made of tougher stuff than to bow down to their will. "QUIET! Now, I'm gonna explain to ya'll what happened, so sit down and shut up! We've got a big decision to make after this!" Francis shouted, being far less gentle in his approach than Albert. His face softened, and he took a deep breath before turning to Martin. "Martin, would you demonstrate please?" "Demonstrate? What the fuck are you talking about, dude? Why is pencildick up there like he's some kinda important..." Richie started to argue, but he was cut off by the "demonstration" in question. The entire crowd was stunned. The entire groups eyes moved in tandem upon a single candle lantern that was levitating before their very eyes, with no clear force, object, or aura acting upon it. Martin's eyes were watching it intently, as the lantern moved back towards the young man, where he grabbed it out of the air and held it at his side. Everyone except Martin's family and Francis was stunned. "F-Floating! That lantern was floating!" someone shouted. "That's how we got here. Martin is psychic, and telekinesis isn't the only thing he's capable of," Francis' voice tried to raise above the murmuring that beginning to start. "We're really not in the mood for jokes! We're stranded out here, and you guys are pulling pranks to make us believe that he has superpowers. C'mon now..." Brit shouted above the din. In response to that, Martin used his telekinesis to levitate an old newspaper upon the table, floating it over until it hung directly in front of Brit's face. The young woman was stunned. There were no ropes or pulleys or anything that were capable of moving that object, and those around her were beginning to see that too. Some people were beginning to seem wary of Martin. One woman even screamed. "Cool!" the five-year old Kevin Morris squealed, the small African-American boy running up to Martin. His brother D'Angelo also seemed interested, as he eyed Martin from his mother's side with wonder. Martin himself locked eyes with D'Angelo, a small smile on his face as he did. His eyes then widened with surprise as the college student seemed to notice something, and he stroked his chin knowingly. D'Angelo was confused. What could that have possibly meant? "Kevin!" Bianca Morris scolded. "Someone get him away from there!" Candy Alexander cried, having been the woman who screamed. "Wait, wait, wait! So, Pencildick here is some kind of mutant?!" Richie cried, and the college kids from the duplex looked angry and slightly afraid. They had never gotten along well with Martin, and for Richie at least, it seemed like they had made enemies with the wrong guy. Most of the others seemed to murmur in agreement, to which Martin cast his eyes downward. "Any-WAY, like I was saying," Francis continued, raising his voice and glaring at the crowd, "I understand it's a big shock coming to learn that psychic abilities actually exist, but I need to remind everyone that until proven otherwise, we're in a magical world of fucking talking horses. Start dealin' with it already!" "Yesterday morning, Martin here had an accident with his abilities. I don't know exactly how it occurred, but he told us last night that teleportation is somethin' he can use, and he has "episodes" every now and then. This one just happened to be the strongest one he has ever experienced, and because of it, he managed to engulf the entire neighborhood by accident." "Accident?! So that makes it okay, huh? We're never going to make it home because of an accident!" the first protest came in the form of Ryan, who was one of the first to begin glaring daggers at Martin. "We're lucky no one was hurt..." his girlfriend Brit commented, taking the side of her significant other. Priscilla Louverture frantically looked around the room, noticing that the majority of the people were now angry with her oldest son. Even Steven and Lucy seemed concerned at this point. "And we're just going to allow this to continue? Like, this guy's been living among us for years!" Candice raised her own voice, "He's such a weirdo! Who knows what could set him off again?" "SHUT UP!" Francis roared, his rough voice quieting down the crowd instantly, "How many times am I gonna have to do that?" he yelled in frustration. "It's true. It's basically my fault that we're even here," Martin said quietly. "Aha! He admits it! A menace he is!" "Shut the hell up, Vang!" Francis called, but he was started to get drowned out by the number of angry voices that were calling for Martin's blood, so to speak. "I don't want him around my children!" "Get him outta here! What if he blows us all up when we're asleep, huh?" "You son of a bitch!" That last cry came from Richie, who was climbing over people to apparently start a physical confrontation with Martin. Guns blazing, he ran up to the "stage", a fist cocked and ready. Francis grit his teeth and glared, preparing to take action while Martin just stood there as if he were about to take it. Smack! The strong college kid gave Martin a whack that he wouldn't forget for a while, with enough force to knock the smaller Martin back and into a table with a bunch of old papers on them. The crowd erupted, some in cheers and some in protests as Martin shakily got to his feet and checked his mouth for blood. A large welt had appeared on his face where Richie had hit him. "That's what you get, motherfucker!" Richie spat, seemingly ready for more. He was promptly tackled by Francis and Joe, before any more violence could occur. "You fucking dipshit!" Francis roared, "Do you actually think before you act?! You're lucky he's not some lunatic, otherwise you'd be dead by now, you fucking idiot!" "Fuck you guys!" Richie roared, struggling under the strength of both men. Joe had him in a chokehold. "Alright, unless anyone else has any other bright ideas, do you mind if I continue?" Francis spat at the crowd, who had grown silent over the display of violence. "This will be the first time we're ever going to vote on the issue, and I doubt it will be the last. Normally, I would just tell you all to shut the fuck up and deal, but that would be against Martin's and Albert's wishes. So, it comes down to this: does Martin Louverture have a continued place in our "colony", or is he expelled from the station and the group?" "Get him the hell out of here!" Richie cried from his submission hold. "You shut up!" Francis roared, "Everyone, raise your hands if you think Martin should stay!" he snarled. Several hands went up, but Francis looked at them and grimaced. There weren't enough hands in the air to constitute a majority. Martin's mother Priscilla was raising her hand, and glaring fiercely at her other children to raise their own. But overall there were only seven hands up. Francis sighed. "Okay, who believes that Martin Louverture should be expelled from the group..." Thirteen. Thirteen hands shot up. Add in Richie and that was fourteen. Francis himself and Joe Alexander did not cast a vote, due to them being the leader and holding down Richie respectively. After Francis disregarded the children in the group, there were only twenty-one vote castors. Fourteen was easily enough. Martin had risen to his feet completely, a solemn look on his face. He had seen the majority, and Francis reasoned that he was clearly trying to not let it get to him. It was failing. Francis sighed once more; he had been doing a lot of that lately. "Democracy has spoken. Martin Louverture, you are hereby expelled from the group upon the crime of negligent use of your abilities. You will have to leave this station immediately and find your own way," Francis said. "No! You're not going to take him away from me!" Priscilla Louverture rose to her feet, a look of despair on her face. Her other children placed their hands on her shoulders, trying to calm her down, while Martin walked out into the crowd. "Calm down, Mama!" Steven cried, while Lucy held her down before the frumpy woman could do something she would regret. Some people gave him a wide berth, like he was infected. "It's alright, Mama. These people here have a right to be mad at me. If they want me gone, I'll just have to listen..." "Then we'll go with you! It's a cold world out there, and an alien one to boot. You'd be all alone out there in a place that you don't know anything about!" "Mama, you know you can't handle being out there with just us; your back will start acting up before long. You need to stay here where you don't have to move so much, and there will be more people here to take care of you..." "Yeah, yeah! It's all very touching! Now get out, or we'll have your family thrown out with you!" Richie snarled, even though he was still being held by Joe Alexander. Martin finally scowled at Richie, but he took a deep breath and tried to regain his composure. "Just take care of Steven and Lucy..." he whispered in Priscilla's ear, "That's another thing. They shouldn't get dragged into this just because I made a stupid mistake." Priscilla finally seemed to calm down at that, and she nodded glumly. It took some doing, but she would trust her oldest son's judgment. It was his decision to take the fall. After that, the exiled psychic walked up to Francis. "Can you keep an eye on Mama for me? And my siblings too? They're going to need help, and I don't think the rest of the neighborhood is ready to accept them lying down. We were already seen as the neighborhood weirdos; things are going to get worse from here once they realize the cause of that." Francis nodded. "You got it, kid." "Well, everyone! It's been a short time, and I wish I could say it was a pleasure..." Martin said, turning around to the other thirty or so humans for the final time. Some gave him scornful glares, while others look somewhat solemn. He reached the double doors of the station, and pulled them open. The sunlight washed over the station once more, and without turning around again, he stepped out into the forest by his lonesome. "Easy, Albert. You can do this." Albert Satchwell stood upon the hill overlooking the town all by his lonesome. It was approximately noon, and there were ponies out and about in the logging town below. That meant that he couldn't sneak into town and corner one, but that plan probably was out anyway. It wouldn't look good when trying to establish a hopefully peaceful relation. No, he would have to walk straight into the fire, completely visible and in front of multiple horse things that he had never interacted with before. He had to hope his gestures of peace would be enough to convince them; he couldn't communication with them through language. He was hoping to enter the town through its main gate to the right, and there was a small path down the hill that would lead to a fork in the road, where the left fork led directly into town. He took the path down to the bottom of the hill and hung a left, taking a deep breath over what he was about to do. A few ponies were milling about in the village, yet none had noticed him just yet. Releasing his breath, he walked toward the town, stepping into the gates and into the vicinity of wooden house flanking each other. By doing so, he had caught the local's attention. A plain brown pony, male from the looks of it, with a silver mane was the first to notice him, the intelligence in his eyes very clear to Albert close up. That wasn't the only thing Albert noticed, however. Now that he was a big closer, he could take in their features a little more easily. From the encounter yesterday to the pictures he had looked at last night, he could tell that these horses were obviously very different than any equines that existed on Earth. The think that caught his eye was the marking on the pony's flanks. This brown stallion had a tree marking on both his flanks, and it didn't look like a tattoo or brand. It was too neat and tidy, like each individual hair had been dyed to perfectly resemble a tree. "That's odd..." Albert thought, but he stored away the concern for the time being. What was more important right now was the look of fear in the stallion's eyes. "Nocola! Nocola! the stallion screamed in that strange language of his. It was only one word this time, but Albert didn't know what it meant. Nothing good, probably. Albert held his hands up in a placating gesture, trying to calm the stallion. "Hey, calm down. I know I don't look exactly normal to you, but I'm just here to..." A door swinging open cut him off. Apparently someone else had heard the shouting that the pony in front of him was doing, for another horse moved into the main street at a seemingly frantic pace. "Nocola! Drusina joct! Joct!" the same pony cried at the one who had exited from the house and looked frantically at Albert. This one was of a weirder color. Banana yellow with a fluffy blue mane and a horn on its head, this stallion didn't look like a logger like the others he had seen. "Utyura! Panin Lusina!" The shout could clearly be heard from houses down, because within minutes doors were swinging open and more horses were flooding into the streets. "Wait, everyone! I just want to talk! We have a group holed up in the old train station! We're lost, and we could use a bit of help! Please, there are children there!" Albert tried, but only the pony in front of him heard him. Even still, he showed no acknowledge that he understood Albert, or that he was speaking. "Ahhhh!" the brown-haired pony screamed, apparently in response to his speaking. That was odd; Albert could clearly recognize what he was saying as a language, even if he didn't understand it. So, why didn't this pony show the same in reverse? The sound of banging metal brought Albert's attention back. The brown "normal" pony was now running away, but the screams had amassed a group of about a dozen ponies who were now staring him down in the middle of the street. "Oh no..." Albert whispered, when he realized that they were all carrying weapons of some kind. Mostly axes, but a few saws and pitchforks were mixed in for good measure. The ponies did not look happy. A cacophony of shouts and voices from the twenty ponies overwhelmed Albert's senses; he couldn't even begin to try and understand the ponies now. From the way that they reacted to him, they probably did not believe him to be a thinking creature. "Not even a glimpse of humans for miles, and the only intelligent life here thinks you're a monster. I have to convince them otherwise..." Albert thought, though he wondered if it wasn't smart to just turn tail and run. "C'mon, please. Let something register with you!" he pleaded to the marching group of ponies that were rapidly approaching. He tried every gesture he could think of: waving his arms around, pantomiming various actions with his arms and legs, but they seemed to have no effect or even made the ponies angrier. "Okay, plan failed! Time to go!" More and more ponies were poking their heads out of windows and doors to see what the commotion was about. While Albert could tell that most of the town was clearly male, there were some females and a few children within the houses. If the town was really made business on the logging industry, then there were probably only a few of the workers who brought their families up with them. Without looking back, Albert bolted out the gates of the village. Several ponies screamed in their language as Albert didn't bother to look behind himself, but it was clear that the small mob was going to give chase. "Okay, so as it turns out, the horses here are NOT friendly. Or at least, someone like me is completely alien to them. Trying to get their help is a definite "no" right now, until we can figure out how to communicate with them!" Albert didn't have faith that he could outrun the mob. They had been carrying a variety of painful objects, and Albert had no idea how. Even with the apparent awkward poses they were taking with those items, they were probably still very fast. Therefore, Albert decided to NOT run along the dirt path leading away from the town. As soon as he was able to, he cut left into the forest, in the opposite direction of the train station. The shouts behind him were getting louder, but he was going to use his agility to his advantage within the dense underbrush. Trees and bushes abound, he weaved his way through, jumping over obstacles and running around trees. He got cut up a few times upon bushes and plants, but the adrenaline in his system wouldn't let him stop for anything. He leapt over a fallen log, no longer concerned about where he was going. Until he could throw off his pursuers, he would not lead them directly to his hideout. "Can't even attempt to fight them off. I have nothing. Just evade them until they stop searching for you. Though, who knows what they'll do if they find you..." Albert shook his head free of his thoughts, hearing the ponies enter the treeline. He could hear a far off cry of frustration and pain; one of them must've tripped or something. "Wait a minute..." As he weaved through another bush, a plan formed in his mind as he passed a large evergreen tree. Coming up to the base of it, he stopped, hearing the distant shouts of the ponies who were clearly still searching. Not wasting anymore time, the agile man threw himself against the wide trunk, shimmying up it until he reached the first low lying branch, which he grabbed and pulled himself up. It almost buckled under his weight, but he redistributed it by climbing ever higher into the large tree, ignoring the pine needles that poked him painfully as he ascended. About mid-way through the tree, he stopped, placing both shoes on adjacent branches and grabbing two more with his fists. A thick blanket of green shielded him entirely from view, and unless they looked up directly from the trunk, they would scarcely be able to see him. With bated breath, he waited as the shouting grew ever closer. His gamble in running through the forest had paid off; he was much better equipped for it than these ponies were. From the very small window between the thicket of pine needles, he saw a group of six or seven ponies stop about twenty feet away from the base of his tree. Apparently, they had split off into groups, but this one looked worse for wear. Albert could see very clear cuts and scrapes along their bodies, more so than him. One of them seemed to have a bruised face, possibly from running into a tree. They chattered in the language, and seemed more agitated than they were at the town, probably from running through brush for a good ten minutes and coming out worse for it. "Better wait it out, just to be safe." It was clear by now that he had lost them, but Albert didn't know how long they would be combing the forest searching for them. A few minutes later, and the voices from the group that just passed faded out completely. "God, this is uncomfortable," Albert said, the needles poking him as he held the awkward position within the tree. Steeling himself, he managed to ignore it until he was almost completely sure that the ponies had given up their search. Slowly but surely, he wriggled his way back down the trunk until he jumped off and landed on the forest floor. "Okay, now what?" If there was one word to describe the town of Cascade Hills, it would be rough. Being isolated from the rest of Equestria meant its disadvantages, and the stallions who were worked in the mill and their families were used to dealing with the rugged expanse of nature. This far north, pony control over plants and animals was starting to fade, simply because there were so few ponies to keep the weather and nature under maintenance. The entire northwest had its own pegasi weather team, but animals up there often acted a bit more wilder than their central counterparts. Bears and wolves were common, and there were even reports of the Sasquatch that showed up from time to time. Clean Cut worked as a craftspony within the town of Cascade Hills. Unlike the rugged loggers and lumberjacks, Clean wasn't really at home in the great outdoors, preferring to stay within his little wood shop and produce wooden goods for the rest of the town and Equestria. It was around noon when he went outside, after finishing his morning's work. His home was not too far away, and he was going there to take his lunch break and return to the shop within the hour. The brown haired stallion hummed to himself; he wasn't as rugged as the loggers, but that didn't mean that he wasn't welcome within the town. After a while, most of the residents seemed to have accepted his presence. "Hmm, what is that?" he asked himself, stealing a cursory glance to the town gate near where his shop was located. No one else was on the street at this time. His eyes widened as the thing got closer. "Sasquatch?!" his frantic mine thought as it stopped before him. No, it wasn't the mythical beast. The Sasquatch was supposed to be covered in fur with large feet. This creature very vaguely resembled it, but it was too off. The being was tall and hairless, with a very short black mane perched on its head and nowhere else. It had a strange coloration to its body, its skin mostly pinkish with different color parts on its torso and legs. Unless those were clothes, but why would this thing be wearing clothes? It stood on two legs, with its back legs ending in a circular hoof-like appendage. Yet, what was on the ends of its forelegs were not hooves, but instead claw-like appendages ending in five digits. What struck Clean Cut the most were its eyes, however. Ponies read facial expressions through their eyes, and Clean Cut had never seen a sapient race with eyes that small. He couldn't read any intelligence in this thing's expression. The thing opened its mouth, releasing forth a bunch of guttural growls and grunts that made Clean Cut's ears fold back. Clean Cut gulped, suddenly feeling very small in this thing's presence. "Monster! Monster!" the work stallion roared. Within minutes, doors swung open and Clean breathed a sigh of relief as his fellow townsponies came forth. The thing looked all around, its stupid mind no doubt confused by all the commotion. "Monster! Somepony help! Help!" he shouted at a banana yellow pony. It began making more of the same grunts at Clean Cut, and by the time that a posse had been formed, the workpony was terrified. It was swinging its appendages about like a madpony and doing some odd gestures that involved all of its limbs. Clean Cut took a step back; perhaps it was a display of aggression? He vaguely saw a yellow pony beside him, but Clean Cut was too focused on the strange being. "Roundup! Hoof yourselves!" another pony shouted upon seeing the beast. A few minutes later, and the being had not attacked or made any other moves. A posse of about twenty ponies had been gathered up, as was tradition where they was a threatening animal encroaching too far into the town. When the posse was ready, Clean Cut stood back as the mostly Earth Pony stallions gave a battle cry, armed with their axes and saws, ready to engage the monster. As Clean Cut took safety within his own shop, the last thing he saw of the incident was the strange creature running away from the town and into the forest.