“Alright, I said my bit. It’s someone else’s turn. Umm… Captor. You go.”
“Err- guy2, II’m not 2ure II want two go. Maybe Maryam or Pyrope instead?”
“Aww, come on, Captor. I’m making you second, that’s gotta make you happy. We can’t have someone go cold turkey already.”
“...Alriight, ju2t… let me take iit 2low…”
Begin Interlude 2
>Enter Name.
What, this again? Fine. Random Insult #4.13. Can we get on with this?
>Try again, wiseguy.
Your name is WHAT now?
Unbelieveable. Your name is SHERLOCK HOLMSTRÖM, and you are SWEDISH, though you’re not entirely sure why this should that be RELEVANT. Similarly to your GOOD FRIEND, BEST PAL Alexandr, you too have caught the CONTAGION that is HOMESTUCK. He, you, and the REST of your WEBFRIENDS are all FANS of this INCREDIBLY SILLY, yet HELL-DAMNED AWESOME WEBCOMIC. So much, in fact, that yourself and Alexandr have agreed to arrange to show up at a GEEK PARTY. In COSPLAY, no less.
As your DE FACTO LEADER, Alexandr has been allowed to COSPLAY as KARKAT. Considering that you two are BROS, you have picked the cosplay of SOLLUX. It’s all here: the BLACK-AND-WHITE shoes, the RED-AND-BLUE glasses, a TWIN-HORNED HEADBAND, a shirt with GEMINI on it, and just in case, FANGS. The fangs have the added SIDE-EFFECT of giiviing you a biit of a lii2p. A definite WIN in your book.
What will you do now?
>What’s with your name?
*Twitch* This? Again? Alright, mocking sacks of manure who may or may not exist solely in your mind, you ought to up because you’re only going to say this once. Your parents are HOLMES FREAKS. They are basically caricatures of the modern Sherlock fandom, obsessive and analytical, and sometimes go out of their way to show it off. They gave you your name with no thought to the ensuing consequences, among which include explaining this story to all the idiotic mind-voices who ask. So there! Now shut up.
>Well, what did you think of the books?
Meh. The Lost World was better.
>Sherlock: Check computer.
Yeah, why not. You YOUTH ROLL below a knife thrown by some miscellaneous ENRAGED FAN (“Blasphemy!!!”) and you turn on your LAPTOP (your precious, precious LAPTOP), opening up the PESTERCHUM app. Really, this NEW CHAT PROGRAM was the most awesome thing you have ever found on the Internet.
Hmm? It seems one of your chums is pestering you.
>Sherlock: Answer chum
>Show Pesterlog
jenniferStark [JS] began pestering sherlockHolström [SH] at 15:24
JS: Hey, Sherlock.
JS: Are you there?
SH: Yeah, I’m here Jen. Whaddya need?
JS: Oh great, you’re here! Is your costume ready?
SH: Yes, my costume is ready, though something tells me that isn’t quite what you pestered me about.
JS: Hmph. Nothing gets past you, I see. Do you have Alexandr’s emails? I seem to have deleted them awhile back. Too bad he doesn’t use Pesterchum.
SH: Actually, he just got Pesterchum. That’s somewhat besides the point, however. Give me a second…
SH: Yeah, I’ve got the emails.
JS: Did Alexandr set a meeting place?
SH: ...No, he didn’t. Typical.
JS: Well… don’t you live, like, right next to the convention hall? You could set a meeting place.
SH: I’m already on it. I’ll see you via memo.
sherlockHolmström [SH] ceased pestering jenniferStark [JS] at 15:27
>Sherlock: Pick up your bro’s slack.
>Show Pesterlog
CURRENT sherlockHolmström [CSH] RIGHT NOW opened memo on board GEEKPARTY SHIT.
CSH: Alright, then.
CSH: Attention, everybody. It seems Alexandr forgot to set a meeting place for us all to… meet, I guess.
CURRENT borisAndreyev [CBA] RIGHT NOW responded to memo.
CBA: Hmph. Alexandr forgot something? What else is new?
CURRENT jenniferStark [CJS] RIGHT NOW responded to memo.
CJS: Boris, that’s not a very nice thing to say.
CJS: We’re all supposed to be friends here, and friends don’t talk badly of each other.
CBA: But look at this fine mess he’s gotten us in, Jen.
CBA: He goes around claiming to be the one leading us to a nerdly triumph.
CBA: And forgets something so vital.
CBA: And he won’t even be around to listen as someone else picks up his slack.
CSH: Alright, not that I agree with anything that Boris is saying, but does anyone actually know why Alexandr isn’t here? Because I’d love to.
CURRENT lucyWardale [CLW] RIGHT NOW responded to memo.
CLW: He’s not online. Whatever he’s wasting his time with is beyond me.
CSH: Wonderful.
CBA: This is what I’m talking about. The man is all bark and no bite.
CURRENT amandaRedwood [CAR] RIGHT NOW responded to memo.
CAR: I don’t believe that to be the correct usage of the idiom.
CBA: Perhaps not the conventional use of the phrase, but I wager it’s correct enough.
CBA: He barges in saying he’ll be our leader and all that crap, but he doesn’t exactly follow through with the promise, does he.
CAR: Perhaps you’re judging him too harshly.
CAR: After all, we can’t all live up to the BORIS ANDREYEV level of standards.
CSH: HOLD IT!!!
CSH: Before we all descend into fucking friendship debates.
CSH: As tends to happen when too many of us gather in one place.
CSH: Can we first accomplish what we set out to do in the first place.
CBA: What was that you were saying, Amanda?
CBA: About my standards?
CAR: They’re maybe a bit too harsh. You’re maybe a bit too pretentious for demanding we all uphold them.
CBA: So says miss fashion nazi.
CSH: THERE’S A BUNCH OF BENCHES IN FRONT OF THE CONVENTION HALL! THAT’S OUR MEETING PLACE!
CSH: LUCY, YOU TELL ALEXANDR, OK? GOOD.
CSH: FAREWELL, YOU FUCKING DISAGREEABLE INFANTS. I’LL SEE YOU ALL AT THE PARTY!!!
CSH ceased responding to memo.
======>
This always happens, this always happens, this always happens!
Yours is the most dysfunctional group of friends. So many arguments, so much disagreement… It wears on you over time. This is one of the reason’s it’s necessary to have Alexandr as a leader in the first place, because without someone to guide the masses they just struggle a bit, flop around, and eventually self destruct. And Alexandr just happens to be particularly good at guiding the masses. You swear he’s going to end up in politics some day…
======>
With a couple deep breaths, your rage dissipates. You’ve got to learn to control yourself in the future, or else you won’t have those outbursts.
A bit of programming never hurts your mood. You return to your computer and go to work.
>Timeskip: Happen
You do some programming. Yeah. That’s about it. Standard fare. Later, you turn and exit your house, and walk across the street. You’ve arrived at the CONVENTION HALL- now it’s time to wait…
>Another Timeskip: Happen
It doesn’t take long for some of your friends to show up, they’re all dressed in their own cosplay, with varying degrees of completion (where’s Nepeta’s tail?). You all sit together on your benches and have a lovely chat.
======>
>Show Dialoglog
Sherlock: All right then. Um. Hi there, everyone.
Vriska: Well heeeeeeeey there, our illustrious second-in-command!
Sherlock: Very funny. Nice Vriska costume, though. God Tier, eh?
Vriska: Yep!
Tavros: Nice wings.
Vriska: Why thank you! Nice robot legs!
Tavros: Uh... thanks.
Feferi: Oh, I’m so excited! I can’t wait for the Geekparty to start. We’re gonna have so much fun doing… um… Wait a minute, what do you do at Geekparties?
Kanaya: Err… I believe it’s meant to be somewhat of a gathering, celebrating geekdom. We all get together, buy merchandise, chat with other fans and… fanboy over everything, I suppose.
Eridan: So… It’s a social event for asocial people? Is anyone else seeing the contradictions here?
Sherlock: Wait, wait wait. Hold up a second. There’s about 20% too little ornery in this conversation. Where’s Alexandr?
Tavros: (Ooh, sick burn! That is what you refer to as some truly unhealthy incendiaries!)
Vriska: (Quiet!)
Sherlock: No, seriously. Where’s Alexandr?
>Sherlock: Find Alexandr
Oh, there he is. He’s just coming over the hill, heading towards your table. His Karkat cosplay is excellent, and his furious facial expressions give the impression that he really is Karkat. Wait… you don’t think he’s glaring just to be in character…
======>
Alexandr: How the hell are you lot already here?
Feferi: Oh, hi Alex… or should I say Karkat? We were wondering when you’d get here.
Alexandr: I have a question and I want it answered. How the hell are you lot already here?
Kanaya: Well, you do live the farthest from here, Alex.
Alexandr: I meant more along the lines of how the hell are you lot here together. I thought I forgot to prearrange a meeting place.
Sherlock: You did. It’s a good thing I picked up your slack.
Alexandr: And nobody thought to tell me this was happening?
Sherlock: ...
Kanaya: …
Feferi: ...
Terezi: Oops. Forgot to tell him.
Alexandr: Grrr… fine. Look, we’re all here now, let’s just not get separated again.
Gamzee: *Honk*
Alexandr: Hey, put that horn away!
Gamzee: Err- that wasn’t me.
*Honk! Honk!*
======>
Turning in the direction of the honking, you spot a golf cart hurtling towards your benches at unsafe speeds. You leap from your seat immediately, and scramble away from the benches as the uncontrolled vehicle smashes into the seats at which you sat just seconds before. You turn to look back. You don’t see anyone injured, but you can’t quite tell for sure as crowds of onlookers suddenly flood the area and your friends meld into the masses. Presently, you’re surrounded not by comrades but by strangers. Excellent. Just excellent.
>Sherlock: Locate friends
You know the convention center, so you duck inside and take a look around the spots where people tend to gravitate. The snack bar- empty. The restrooms- empty. The booth with guys from The Walking Dead- empty.
After some time spent with deliberate searching, you sigh deeply and decide to simply wander without aim, and perhaps stumble upon a friend by chance. You walk idly for a while, occasionally scanning the crowds for your friends, and eventually come across a booth selling all sorts of knickknacks (even a hand for some reason) and some guy behind the counter. You take a moment to peruse the wares for whatever reason and you come across a good quality model of Sollux’s headset- with the blue and red “♊” to boot.
>Sherlock: Purchase wares
You turn to the guy behind the counter- some old man- and ask him if it works. He smiles and assures you that it does. You fish through your pockets, extract a couple bucks, and toss it at him. Thanks for doing business, the man says. And, enjoy your trip.
>Sherlock: Get transported to Equestria.
Transported to what where now? You can’t quite tell. One second you’re staring into the smug mug of a businessman and the next you’re staring into the speckled, everlasting darkness of space. Through some skylight. You sit up and put a hand to your head, nursing an aching headache. You feel like something is clawing at your eyes. Ignoring the pain, you glance around and find that you appear to be in a lab. A very familiar lab...
>Sherlock: Draw the conclusions
What the fuck? The meteor lab? No wait- the white rocky surface, visible through some windows, indicates that you’re on the moon, not the meteor. And that blue planet, stuck high in the sky amidst a swirling void of black… that’s not Earth. Is that the “Equestria” place the voice in your head mentioned? What is that voice in your head anyways?
>Sherlock: Operate computers
You know what, forget questioning the voice in your head, because it gives some damned good advice. You’re of relative certainty that a bit of minor computer manipulation will provide sufficient answers. You hop over to the computer and boot it up. Wait a minute… are your hands grey?
>Computer: Compute
The computer monitor becomes aglow with white light, a sheen of divine brilliance, promising answers to all your prayers and inquiries. And in the center of the screen… a little blue wheel spins around. Figures.
>Yet another timeskip: Happen
This computer must be running Windows 8 or something, because it takes a good deal of time before it boots up. When it’s initialization is complete, however… the results speak for themselves.
[Hello, Sherlock Captor, the Psiionic.]
[Welcome to Equestria.]
>Sherlock: Engage Realization
The computer addressed you as Sherlock Captor. And your gray hands…
You have quite literally become Sollux Captor. Holy fuck.
>Computer: Continue tutorial
[You, Captor, have entered Equestria as the troll SOLLUX CAPTOR.]
[You have gained the corresponding mental abilities.]
[However, you may have initial trouble controlling these powers.]
[Take this into account when you act.]
[When you’re ready to proceed, enter your transportalizer.]
[/End of tutorial.]
>Captor: Take it all in
You lean back in your chair for a moment, staring in shock at the computer screen. It’s quite a bit to take in. You’ve been transformed into Sollux Captor, a tug on your now-permanent horns is all that’s necessary to prove that, and you’re apparently in Equestria- or, on its moon, at least. That name though, Equestria… it sounds familiar. Maybe something Alexandr once said…
>Captor: Enter your transportalizer.
You… suppose that you’ll just do that. There don’t seem to be many other things to do, you guess.
You hop onto the series of transportalizers, taking you to a room with twelve pads lined up in a circle around its perimeter. You step onto the pad with your “♊” symbol floating above it. You vanish with a whoosh.
>Captor: Go to the place.
You appear in the midst of some forest. It’s… really green. And there are a lot of trees. Yeah, just a forest. You glance backwards to find that your transportalizer pad has disappeared. Typical. You choose a completely random direction and start walking.
It’s a long trek, and you have a lot to think about. You’ve apparently been transported to a whole different world as a character from Homestuck. How was this possible? Did that Merchant have something to do with it? And more importantly, what do you do now? If you truly are Sollux Captor, you’ve got some cool psychic abilities to play around with, and you suppose that could help. But first off you’ve got to find some trace of civilization. Frolicking in the woods and hunting for meat doesn’t sound too appealing.
But most infuriating is that strange pain in your head, at the back of your corneas. It keeps building, as if there are batteries sparkling behind your eyes, and you’re concerned that sooner or later your eyes will just bust open or something. And that would really not be pleasant. You’d rather avoid that.
>Village: Appear
As you crest a hill, you see the trees thin away. You’re standing now at the hill’s peak, overlooking a field down below. And in the middle of this field: civilization!
It’s just a simple looking village of moderate size, but you’re far too overjoyed by the sight of something artificial to care. You race down towards the town as fast as your troll legs can carry you.
>Captor: Meet locals
You quickly reach the edge of the village. Glancing around at the bustling streets, your eyes shoot wide open at the sight of something you did not expect.
Ponies. Ponies everywhere.
And suddenly you remember where you heard the term “Equestria” from, and you drop to your knees and shake your fists at the sky.
======>
>Open Dialoglog
Captor: WHY!?! WHY DID IIT HAPPEN TWO ME!?! DO YOU THINK THII2 II2 FUNNY!?! II2 THII2 YOUR 2IICK IIDEA OF A JOKE!?! YOU BASTARD2!!! II’M GONNA FIND WHOEVER II2 RE2PON2IIBLE FOR THII2 AND II’M GOIING TWO FUCKIING KIILL THEM!!! FUCK!!!
Random Pony: Umm… sir? There are children here.
>Captor: Apologize
You glance over at the random pony, who seems to be slightly nervous speaking with you. You suppose that it’s never seen something like you before. On further inspection, however, it appears to be telling the truth- there are smaller child-ponies (or foals, you guess. Ugh.) that are gathered around the street, staring at you along with their parents, and pretty much every single pony. Most of the parents are covering the foals’ ears, while their eyes bug out at the sight of you.
======>
>Open Dialoglog
Captor: Err- hii, everybody.
Ponies: AHHHHH!!!
Captor: Well, that’2 a liittle rude…
>Captor: Look behind you
A sudden buzz of noise prompts you to take a look behind you, and you freeze at the sight of it. A swarm of black pony-bug looking things hovers in the air around you, swooping down at the town. You see them descend upon the village, firing green lasers at anything that moves and grabbing any pony they can. Screams of terror sound throughout the town, as the insects seem intent on tearing the village apart.
Something wells up deep within you, a strange strength that floods through your veins and builds within your red and blue eyes.
======>
>Open Dialoglog
Captor: Hey! Over here!
>Captor: Pulverize Bugs with Destructive, Uncontrollable Psionics
You’ve got no idea why or how, but without warning twin beams of blue and red burst from your eyes. You stumble back at the jolt of power as several of the bugs glance towards the prismatic lasers and are promptly obliterated. Thinking quickly, you sweep your deadly glare over the village, zapping insects everywhere into clouds of dust. Within seconds, the bugs are all gone. A few moments later your laser vision flickers, then cuts off.
Silence. Complete and utter silence, the ponies ceasing their panic to stare at you once again, you with a bead of sweat rolling down your face, wondering if you did something wrong.
Then the ponies suddenly and unanimously cheer with joy.
>Captor: Be the hero
Before long you’re surrounded by admiring ponies. They quickly heft you onto their shoulders and turn to march down the streets, parading you like a hero. You’re kind of a little weirded out by this.
The ponies set you down when they finally reach the end of the street, but don’t release you from the mob. Instead, they bombard you with questions.
======>
>Open Dialoglog
Random Pony 2: Thank you, sir. You saved us all!
Random Pony 3: You’re a right hero, mister! What’s your name?
Random Pony 4: What are you, even? What are you going to do now?
Random Pony 5: Are you busy tonight?
Captor: Alriight, hold up a 2econd.
Random Pony 6: Where did you come from?
Random Pony 7: Where are you going?
Random Pony 8: Can I touch your muscles?
Captor: I 2aiid hold on a 2econd. Plea2e!
Random Pony: Alright, you heard the guy, back off. Let’s give him some time to recover before praising his heroics, eh?
Random Ponies 2-8: Alright, ma’am.
Captor: Acquire Random Pony’s identity
You nod your thanks to the Random Pony. The’re a rusty red, with a black mane, and their build suggests them to be a female, and if the other Random Pony’s reactions are anything to go by, she must be a figure commanding some respect. This would be the pony to befriend.
======>
>Open Dialoglog
Captor: Thank you, ma’am. May II iinquiire a2 two your name?
Random Pony: My name’s Calypso. I’m a figure of some respect in these parts. Now, what’s your name, heroboy?
Captor: Err- Sherlock. Sherlock Captor. But ju2t Captor wiill do.
Calypso: I see. Captor, eh? Odd name.
Captor: I’m, um, known iin 2ome ciircle2 a2 the P2iioniic. Riing any bell2?
Calypso: Mmm… nope. No bells rung. Regardless, this town owes you a great deal of thanks, Psionic. So on that note, would you mind answering some of our questions.
Captor: II 2uppo2e 2o, a2 long a2 they aren’t deliivered twelve at a tiime.
Calypso: Wonderful. Alright, anypony have questions?
Random Pony 4: What are you?
Captor: II’m a troll. Horns, grey 2kiin.
Random Pony 7: Where did you come from?
Captor: Umm… II’m not 2ure that II’m at liiberty two an2wer that. 2omewhere 2o far away II’m not 2ure II can get back.
Random Pony 5: Are you busy tonight?
Captor: Umm…
Random Pony 8: Can I please touch your muscles?
Captor: Err…
Calypso: Alright everypony, can we please stick to legitimate questions?
Random Pony 8: (That was legitimate…)
Random Pony 3: What are you gonna do now?
Captor: II’m… not 2ure, two be hone2t. II’m not 2ure of a lot of thiing2 riight now.
Random Pony 6: I know! You could stay in the village! You could help defend it from further attacks!
Captor: Well-
Random Pony 3: Yeah, that’s a great idea!
Captor: II’m not 2ure iif-
Random Pony 2: With someone as strong as you around, this town will always be safe!
Random Pony 8: (Yes. Stay. Please.)
Calypso: Everypony seems to be in agreement. Captor, would you stay here in this village?
Captor: Look, the thiing ii2… II…
Calypso: Yes?
Captor: 2ure. 2ure, II’ll 2tay.
Random Ponies 2-7: Yeah!!!
Random Pony 8: (Yes…)
Captor: Err- thii2 raii2e2 a whole new 2et of que2tiion2, though. Where wiill II 2tay for one.
Calypso: I have an extra bedroom at my house. You can stay there.
Captor: Oh… uh... thank2.
Calypso: Don’t mention it. Now, how about some fun?
>Captor: Have fun
It’s a matter of minutes after Calypso’s statement that the streets are alive with jubilee. There are refreshments. There are banners (Yay-The-Town-Wasn’t-Destroyed Party!). You’ve got to admit, these ponies are efficient. They’re not half-bad partygoers either. They’re dancing through the roads, leaning against buildings and chatting with friends. You’re glad that these ponies seem to be of a culture that enjoys cutting loose every once in a while.
You make your way over to Calypso, who’s leaning against a simple house, enjoying a glass of some fruity beverage.
======>
>Show Dialoglog
Captor: 2o. Calyp2o. II really oughtta be 2ure to thank you thoroughly. Thii2 town 2eem2 liike a niice place and II’m glad to have 2omewhere to 2tay.
Calypso: It’s no problem. It’ll be nice to have somepony else around the house. I do hate cleaning.
Captor: Waiit a miinute, you 2aiid nothiing about-
Calypso: What, you think I’m just gonna let you crash at my place and let that be the end of it? No. It’ll also be nice not to have to cook every day.
Captor: What?!
Calypso: And maybe if I had somepony to run a few errands now and then.
Captor: But- but- but-
Calypso: Hehe. I’m joking! Mostly. I do expect some level of help on your part.
Captor: IIf II’m gonna be thii2 town’2 defender or whatever, don’t II need two be on duty or 2omethiing?
Calypso: Not twenty-four seven, silly.
Captor: Err… faiir.
Calypso: Wonderful! I’m glad to hear it.
>Captor: Look towards a brighter future
As Calypso walks off, you smile to yourself. You’re in a town that appreciates you, among a simple people, rooming with a pony that seems to have a nice personality. Perhaps this won’t all be so bad after all…
>One More Timeskip: Happen
Perhaps you spoke a bit too soon.
Though initial reactions were quite warm and friendly, your town reputation has only gone downhill since your arrival in the village. Perhaps some variety of factors contributed to this change. Your differing of species, with such a jarring appearance, likely played some part. Being of such a foreign species doesn’t make ponies too comfortable, and your smug douchey personality doesn’t help. You’re just so otherworldly, in both mind and body, that perhaps this isolated the ponies from you to begin with. Perhaps it’s because the village is so peaceful. Travelers and visitors are a very rare occurrence, and the dangers of this peaceful valley are almost non-existent. You haven’t needed to respond to a single crime over the course of your eight-or-so month duty, which can make ponies a little bitter when they see your salary. But you don’t have too much extra money, due to what’s likely the main reason no one really seems to like you.
You can’t control your psionics and it is an issue. A big issue. Every so often power wells up in your eyes that you can’t control and with a BOOM! something goes up in smoke. You’re left with a smoking crater, a bunch of angry looks, and a bill to pay. Thankfully no one has yet been hurt by your spontaneous death rays, but it could very well be but a matter of time. Usually you can turn away before your eyes explode, but the close calls have been close. Very close.
Maybe it’s because they don’t want to get vaporized, maybe it’s because they’re not all sure you aren’t doing it on purpose, or maybe it is just due to your completely alien demeanor, but the townsponies generally stay away from you. And while this doesn’t make you all that happy, you’re not one to spend hours endlessly analyzing the situation, and wracking your brain for ways to fix it. No, not hours.
Calypso is the bright spot behind the eclipse. In a town full of semi-hostility, Calypso’s friendship makes you feel like you belong. It always brings a smile to your face to see the pony as you make your daily rounds through the town, or when you wake up in the morning to the scent of fresh tea. You treasure your friendship with Calypso. It’s your motivation to march further on, your diamond to protect in an otherwise rough village. It’s what gets you through the days.
>Captor: Wake up
You’re stirred from your reminiscing as a cry of fear slices through the calm morning air. Your head whips towards the source of the scream, and your feet pound on the ground as you dash off towards the noise. You round a corner and find yourself staring at an enormous dragon, a monstrous reptile with its wings outstretched, glaring at a small, terrified pack of ponies before it. You sprint in front of them, spreading your arms wide as you return the dragon’s glare. The ponies, seemingly confident that you have it under control, quickly abscond, racing away down the streets. It’s just you and the dragon now…
>Captor: Be the hero… again
You take a deep breath as you stare up at the dragon, looming above you. You plunge deep inside yourself, searching for a spark of energy. You feel the power flame, and the sensation of force welling up just behind your eyes, like sparkling lightning. A bead of sweat rolls slowly past your ear as your eyes glow with energy. With a quick burst, you force the energy out.
Except nothing happens.
You try again, pushing against the physical barrier of your eyes, as if they were walls blocking the power inside you. You succeed only in causing your eyes to ache all the more, but nary a spark flies from your eyes.
The dragon, apparently having enough of this, swings his massive arms, and knocks you away. You crash into the side of a building, splintering wood with your impact. Your back feels like one big bruise, but you force yourself to your legs as the dragon turns to continue on its rampage through town. As it throws its head back and releases a massive roar, you again urge the power within you into your eyes. Building, bubbling, like a pot yearning to overflow. You give it a tip.
An explosion, an earth-shattering boom as your vision swims with brightness and you’re flung backwards by your failed attack. Your head strikes something hard- the light fades away…
Captor: Stir
You feel the world slowly return, burning with pain and crackling with sound. You sit up, with a splitting headache and an above average ache everywhere else. You glance around.
The world is fire and wood. Splintered, crushed houses litter the field of flame, and the roar of raging infernos dominates the air. But through all of this, a single, coherent thought worms its way into you.
Calypso
You’re on your feet, sprinting on dying legs through a ruined village, ignoring the burning air and smoky smells. Ahead, Calypso’s house, collapsed and charred. And beneath a great timber, lying in a puddle of red, Calypso. You reach her lower your head and search for her heart. It flutters weakly, like a butterfly with one wing. No, you’re too late to save her now. Far too late…
Calypso breathes, shakily and unsure, and you catch hints of speech in what will be her final gasps.
======>
Calypso: Captor... Where are you?... Please… Save me…
World: Break
The field shatters. Cracks fraying the edges, white splinters of reality against black sorrow engulfing all that there is. There’s nothing now, nothing but you and Calypso dying at your feet. And then… there truly is nothing but you.
======>
The earth shakes with the stomping of feet. Behind you, the dragon rears its head, its teeth bared sharp and its eyes filled with rage. You spin, and energy flows unhindered from your eyes, the dragon releasing a primal screech of pain as it slowly degrades away. But you’re too late. You’re too fucking late and now there’s nothing you can do about it. As the dragon’s final scream echoes through the land, you drape yourself over an empty corpse and cry...
>...
Canterlot Castle. A lone stranger in a billowing cape marches before the lone throne of Princess Celestia, flanked by a legion of guards on either side. He stops at the foot of the throne. You stop at the foot of the throne.
======>
>Show Dialoglog
Celestia: Well, this is an oddity. It’s not often I’m met with a Troll, let alone one that dares enter Canterlot itself. State your business.
Captor: II come wiith… a reque2t.
Celestia: A request? Now this truly is unusual. Explain yourself.
Captor: II have… p2iioniic abiiliitiie2. II can project beam2 of energy from my eye2, but… II can’t control them. And wiithout control II’m… u2ele22. Wor2e: a threat.
Celestia: And you want my help learning to master your abilities, troll?
Captor: No. II’ve heard of your 2tatue Grove where other2 of my kiind liive iin 2tone. II wii2h to joiin them.
Celestia: Truly? Do not be hasty, Troll, for this is a decision you may not undo.
Captor: Truly. Look iinto my eye2, Cele2tiia. II can tell you’ve recently felt lo22. Can you feel mine?
Celestia: ...Very well. However, the Elements of Harmony… which we would normally use for the petrification, are unavailable, meaning we’d be forced to use, err… alternative means.
Captor: 2o be iit. My paiin end2 today.
Celestia: Before I grant your request, might I know your name?
Captor: … The P2iioniic. II am the P2iioniic.
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Your journey to Canterlot ends here, and with it your grief. Ahead looms a life of stone, a life of blissful apathy, and you don’t even think twice before accepting it.
End of Interlude 2