Act Twenty-Three: The Foil
Act Twenty-Three: The Foil
One of the many complaints from the psychic investigative community is the oft-shared sentiment that life would be much easier if people stopped getting all their information on ghosts and demons from popular media. Even if the author, editor, or screenwriter actually knew what they were talking about, paranormal investigation is such a new and crude science that there is almost no actual constant. Yes, there are observable phenomena, recognizable patterns, and corroborated witness testimonies, but no proper scientist in the field could or should accept any piece of information presented by their fellow scholars should be accepted as 100% fact. Not only is that true in almost every scientific field, where questioning the current norm is how massive leaps and bounds in progress are made, but doubly so in an area of study that lends itself to almost no recordable and verifiable evidence at all.
There are some things most everyone studying paranormal phenomena agrees on, although they wouldn’t go so far as to commit it to a scientific journal. Demons are generally dicks, magic and spiritual energy interferes with electronics, and you can’t. Punch. Ghosts.
All of this and much, much more sped through Twilight’s brain at admirable speed as she watched the scene before her play out. After Rubble had cold-cocked a rather large, angry, and conceivably powerful spirit through a wall, which she was still having trouble wrapping her head around, he had yelled quite loudly for all of them to get wherever they need to go while he held off the ghost. With his fists.
Spooky had immediately directed them all to follow him to the garden house, where the large sigil was, as their last bid was undoubtedly to either cast a counter-spell or break the sigil in some way, rending the spirit’s power. While most everyone else had no trouble following those orders, Dusty and Twilight had stayed behind both out of sheer curiosity and in case Rubble’s fight started going south. Mostly, Twilight just wanted some answers.
She talked out the side of her mouth at Dusty, “Um, are we at all safe here? I mean, I know I volunteered to stay behind and support Rubble, but… this seems like the kind of thing you should watch from behind a blast shield.”
“Honestly, Twilight, I have no idea. We might as well be the coach in the corner of the ring at this point. I mean, do you have any idea how long Rubble has been trying to hit ghosts with his bear hands?” DD asked, following the fight as well as he could, considering one of the combatants kept getting thrown through the walls, ceiling, and floor.
“Um… longer than any healthy man should?”
“Waaayyyyyy longer. I gave up after the third try.”
Twilight turned to look at him. “Third?!”
“What is it they say? First time’s a fluke, second’s a coincidence, third’s a pattern?” he asked, leaning his head around the stairwell (their fight had taken them into the lobby, where there was much more ground).
“That’s… remarkably scientific of you,” Sparkle mused.
“Well, that’s what Spooks said after I got thrown across the room a third time. I mean, it makes sense in retrospect.” There was a loud crash, and Dusty pulled Twilight back into the hall, as she had strayed a little close to the middle of the room. A second later, the chandelier came down, and the glass erupted in a wave on the floor, stopping just short of their feet.
“Um, thanks?” she said politely, not really seeing the danger of a few shards of broken glass. Then Rubble went flying through roughly the same air Twilight had occupied not a moment before.
“No problem,” Dusty said smugly. There was a loud thud as Rubble hit the wall. “I think this is the part where we go see if he’s okay.”
Twilight nodded, now a few shades paler for the close call, and they trotted over to Rubble, leaning against the hardwood and already standing back up. “Um, Rubble? Not to question your fighting ability,” Twilight said cautiously, “But generally you’re supposed to throw the other guy.” Dusty and Rubble both looked at her with amused half-smirks. “...what?”
“She’s gonna fit in fine around here, you know,” Dusty chided, as Rubble brushed off some broken glass and wood splinters out of his old man’s coat. “Also, quick question. HOW. THE FUCK.”
As if in answer to the not really a question, Rubble’s whole body glowed slightly, and a second form rose out of him, parting a little to the left. To Twilight, it looked like an older, even more athletic Rubble. Dusty, however, recognized him immediately.
“TROUBLE?!”
“Where?!” Twilight barked, turning on her heel and looking around in a panic. Oddly enough, all she noticed was the lack of Rubble’s opponent.
The specter laughed loudly. “Oh, god, I NEVER get tired of that joke. And she’s so genuine about it, too! Hello, Devil. Long time.”
Dusty glared at the spirit as Twilight turned back to join the conversation. “That’ll happen when you DIE.”
Rubble just smiled in an almost perfect mirror of the spirit’s grin, and said to Twilight, “Sparky, I’d like to introduce you to my dad. Twilight Sparkle, Trouble Maker. Dead guy, ex-demon chick turned magical girl.”
The ghost leaned on his son’s shoulder. “And here I thought the military was the best way to meet new and interesting people. Yeah, I remember you, kid. Your little outburst at the… what was it, some kind of field day?”
“Friendship games,” the three teenagers drolled.
“...that sounds stupid. Also dumb. I’m calling it a Field Day. Anyways, that whole portal-spamming succubus thing you pulled really scrambled my eggs for a few days. You should be more careful with dimensional energies. The locals might take exception to that,” Trouble offered in what he most likely considered a helpful tone.
Rubble glanced over his shoulder. “Wait, was that why I was sick for the next few days?!”
“No, that was gas station burritos. Totally different kind of monster, boy-o.”
Twilight shook her head and stared at the ceiling. “This is my life. These are the conversations I have now. Also,” she added, not looking away from what she had to admit was a very aesthetically pleasing crown molding, “The big ghost thing left.”
“What?!” both Maker’s shouted. “DAMMIT!” Rubble took off at speed as Trouble dove back into his son’s body, and soon enough the two were off at a rather impressive pace.
Dusty shook his head. “We are going to have a very, VERY LONG TALK with that man when we’re done here. Come on, Sparky.”
“You know I only let you call me that because I don’t want you coming up with anything worse, right?” Twilight growled.
“Absolutely.”
-------------------------------------
“H-how long,” Raven panted, having finally stopped running, “Do you think Rubble will be able to hold him off?”
“No idea,” said Spooks, significantly less winded. In fact, all of the teenagers in the room seemed to be much less worse for wear than their ‘supervisor’, who made a mental note to return to the gym immediately following her survival. He continued, “Honestly, probably not long. Not saying he’s gonna lose the fight, but all Song has to do is get some distance, and he can hide anywhere in the house he wants. Now, Treble, the book, please.”
DT dug through his suit and pulled out the text, throwing it to his buddy. “Honestly, I’m just glad to be off it. Those zombie kids were giving me all kinds of weird looks.”
“Well excuse me if our being dead inconveniences you,” said a childish female voice from the floor.
The only one who actually jumped was Treble, to his embarrassment. Raven and Indigo seemed to recognize the voice, and the young female apparition it seemed to be attached to, while Spooks held on to his trademark of not really being bothered by anything unless it directly impacted the fate of the earth he stood on. “Seriously?” Treble groaned. “How many damn ghosts are even IN this house?!”
“Several dozen, swimming somewhere close to the low three-digits,” Tide mused. Treble considered her alarmingly.
“”Please tell me we don’t have to fight, like, all of you?”
Raven rolled her eyes. “No, Treble. The spirits of the children seem to be on our side, here. At least, the ones we’ve been able to set free. Culling Song seems to have some influence over the ones still trapped in their bodies, but once those are burned, they seem to have some kind of autonomy.”
Spooks looked to her, impressed. “Nicely worded. Although I am slightly curious as to why they’re still floating around down here and not, you know, moving on.”
Tide turned in the air and gave Bones a curious look. “Because waiting to see that rotten old malcontent dragged kicking and screaming into hell is the definition of unfinished business.”
“Well, good enough for me,” Treble declared, and strode across the room to stand just beside Tide. “I’d introduce myself, but I get the distinct feeling we’ve made just enough of a mess that you have a general idea of who we all are.”
Spooky smiled half-heartedly. “Oh good, someone’s been eating his Leader-O’s.”
“Hush ye,” Treble replied, only half-jokingly. “Although I can’t say I know who you are,” he added, readdressing the female spirit.
Tide considered Treble as though appraising a dusty old bowl that may or may not actually be a priceless antique. She seemed to decide on a happy medium, as she smiled warmly, and extended her hand to shake, if only out of habit. “I am Eventide. The girl who’s body you burned, setting my spirit free. In fact I owe you a debt of gratitude, which is in fact another reason I’m still here. I’d offer you a kiss on the cheek, but I’ve heard that’s a rather disturbing experience for the living.”
DT nodded. “Appreciated. Now,” he said, turning to the group at large. “I imagine everyone’s up to speed by now? Big bad ghost trying to break reality? That little book the key -quite literally- to this entire mess? Big sigil above our head the source of the spellwork holding these shenanigans together?”
Everyone nodded in various stages of agreement, but the general consensus was ‘Yes.’
“What I want to know,” said Raven, is how the hell is that little book the only thing keeping Song from, well, breaking the universe?”
Spooks, who had already started in on the book, raised it slightly. “Because this is the last edition of the Malleus Malifecarum, the only book in the world designed to contest the power of the Book of Morrighan. Just having the Malleus around directly interferes with any magic originating from the Crow’s Hand.”
“S why the hell would they keep both in the same place?!” Indigo demanded, resting as comfortably as she could against the wall and floor.
“My guess?” Treble offered. “They didn’t want the ritual above our heads to go off or spin out of control before they were ready, and keeping the Malleus around quelled the storm enough for them to keep fucking around.”
“So why now?” Raven asked. “Is there something special about tonight that made him go off like this?”
“You mean despite YOUR CONSTANT MEDDLING, YOU UNGRATEFUL WHELP?!” bellowed a much louder, more agitated spirit. Soon after, the ghost of Mr. Song charged through the wall, uncomfortably close to Indigo, and came to rest in the middle of the room, floating just a few smug feet above everyone else. “Honestly, I would have been content to wait until you-” he yelled, pointing an accusing finger at Raven, “Kicked the bucket, and another, more sensible member of the family returned this house to its natural state!”
“Then why did you go out of your way to scare me off?!” Inkwell demanded.
“How about because I just don’t like you?” he asked simply.
“Raven blinked a few times. “I don’t have a good response for that.”
“I thought so,” Song said smugly. He immediately disregarded her, turning his attention to Spooky. “YOU, CHILD! Turn that book over that I may destroy it, and free myself this infernal cage! Lest I rip your spirit out and MAKE SURE IT STAYS THAT WAY!”
“No, thanks,” Spooks said coolly. Treble had to stifle a laugh.
The room rumbled with Song’s anger. “How DARE YOU DISMISS ME SO! Do you have ANY IDEA the power I possess?!”
“Yes,” Spooks said.
“THEN YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT I-”
“And I’m not impressed,” he finished in an icy tone.
Treble raised an eyebrow above a smug grin and took a few steps back. Raven caught his eye and followed his lead, slowly inching towards the wall.
“EXCUSE ME?!” Song bellowed.
Spooky gently set the book down on the floor beside him, and stood up. In an instant, even with Song and Tide only feet away, even with the enormous sigil above their heads, Spooky Bones was now the scariest thing in the room. Some day I’m going to learn how he does that, Treble thought to himself.
Once again, Song demanded answers. “WHO ARE YOU TO SPEAK TO ME SO DISMISSIVELY?!”
“My name is Spooky Bones. Grandson of Buried Bones. The youngest heir to the Bonespeaker Curse. I have stared into the Tenebrae, thrown fire at Beasts from the Outer Rings, fought monsters of all kinds, breeds, and dispositions. I have stayed into the eyes of a demon from the pit, and made dead men sit up and talk. I have fought devils, dead things, and everything in between. And I. Am still. here.” He gently crouched, picking up the book. “Now here’s where you start learning your lesson, old man.”
Treble almost shook with giddy glee. Goddammit he’s so COOL when he does that! Wait, what’s the lighter for?
Indeed, Spooky had pulled out a peculiar looking lighter from his pocket, a shiny metal case with a cross bored into it. “You want me to light this book up, and set you free, right?!” he yelled.
Treble was at war with himself, internally. Torn between asking his very, very good and very, very scary friend what the hell was wrong with him, and having faith that Spooky knew what he was doing, like he always seemed to. He settled on the option that let him stay put.
Song looked at the boy and laughed. “HA! With all your posturing, you had me worried, even for a second! Commendable! But you still have no choice but to give in to my demands!”
Spooky held the lit flame aloft, dancing it over the bottom of the book. “Here’s the thing,” he said calmly. “The Templars were very, viciously, intelligent. The Malleus Malifecarum wasn’t just a textbook. Did you ever wonder why this was the only copy your illustrious and wealthy family could ever find? Because the rest of them had all been used.”
Song looked on warily, no longer confident in his position here. “What are you on about, you soiled whelp?!”
Flames began dancing along the bottom of the book, and Raven took a step forward. She was stopped, however, by Tide of all beings, who assured her gently, “Trust him. I know what he’s doing, and so does he.”
Indigo was just happy to not have to get up.
“What I’m ‘on about’, old man, is that this isn’t just a book. It’s a bomb. Ignited by a flame from a holy symbol-” he tapped the cross on the lighter with a finger “-carved of silver and blessed by the Dioces. He owed me a favor,” he explained, directing his attention to Raven. She closed her mouth, the question she was posing to ask already answered. “And do you want to know what kind of explosion a holy text sets off?” he asked, his eyes once again on Song.
“...no.”
“Oh, yes,” Spooks said triumphantly. “Forget your phosphorous grenades and Exorcism Bombs. The last edition of the Malleus Malifecarum was, on top of everything else, a Consecration Cannonade.” The flames seemed to dance at his words, leaping up the text eagerly as he finished his sentence.
Song roared with outrage as he dove for the child, only to be rebuffed as Spooky hurled the book straight into him, through him, and straight into the sigil. The effect was immediate: the flash of light brilliant and unbearable, filled with a righteous, powerful presence. The sound a choir of holy determination drowning out a cacophony of indignant, eldritch rage. Even Song’s own screams were drowned out as the victorious cheer of Eventide and a hundred other children rang out like church bells throughout the house. Above it all, however, Spooks liked to think he could hear the gentle ‘thank you’ of a poor, misunderstood soul borne with a good heart into an evil family.
Rubble, Dusty, and Twilight turned the corner into the room at the last second, just in time to see and then shield themselves from the out-pour of intolerable luminescence. “THE FUCK,” Rubble and Dusty yelled, as Twilight simply shrunk away and covered her ears against the cacophany and her eyes against the light.
Even as they shielded themselves from its radiance, though, the children and Raven all felt a sense of warmth, of approval, of gratitude, as the spirits bound to the house were unchained and ascended, all in an instant. When the light cleared and the sound dissipated, there was a moment of silent awe.
Which lasted about as long as Treble could hold in the words “FUCK YEAH!”
-----------------------------------
“A Consecration Cannonade,” Spooky explained, as Dusty and Treble helped Twilight haul the equipment onto the front porch, “Named mostly for the alliteration, despite how accurate the name actually is, is a last-ditch holy spell created by the Archdiocese at the height of the Crusades. The reason that edition of the Malleus is so rare is, now obviously, because you have to destroy the book to do it. The spell turns everything within three square miles into consecrated Christian holy ground.” He stood with his back to the sun, which had been in the air for about an hour. They were all looking forward to a good night’s sleep. Or day’s.
His audience, Indigo, Raven and Rubble (who was now back in the wheelchair), sat along the front porch, listening intently, if only so Spooky didn’t have to repeat himself when the others asked him the exact same question. Raven thought for a moment, until her eyes widened in alarm. “So, you’re saying this house is now a Holy Site?!” she demanded.
Spooks smiled a little. “Not exactly. It’s more like hallowed ground, like a properly tended graveyard or a church. That book basically ripped away any power the Book of Morrighan had over your house. Without that, there was nothing holding Mr. Song or his son in place. And since this is technically where the children were buried, this became a safe resting place, allowing them to move on. Unfortunately, it did little to nothing to clean up the actual mess, so there’s a bunch of corpses in your kitchen, a lot of blood on your ceiling, and your basement still looks like a grenade went off.”
Inkwell sighed. “Oh, good. Just as long as I don’t have to expect pilgrims showing up at all hours. And the house is pretty much standing, so there’s that.”
“That’s nice,” Spooks said genuinely. Raven raised an eyebrow at him, but he pressed on. “I would like to suggest that the children receive proper burials, if possible. I don’t expect that you’ll be able to find their names or any relevant dates, besides the time period their clothes were from. But it would be a good idea to bury them proper, within about a mile of the house. Also, the local Diocese is going to want to have a word. They have alarm bells for that kind of holy magic. You can just direct them to me for the most part, but they’re probably going to bug you for at least a little while.”
“How long is… a little while?” she asked hesitantly.
“Well, the last time they poked their heads up at our… adventures,” Rubble interjected, “We spent a good month or so getting their robes untwisted. Right uppity bunch of a-holes, mind you.”
Spooks was about to press on as Indigo’s phone rang. She jumped almost a foot in the air, as did Raven. “Jesus! I forgot I had the damn thing!” She pulled it out of her pocket and answered it. “Hello- hi dad! Oh, my god, send a big-ass truck and come get me, please! The van’s all doa! No, I didn’t hit someone! I mean, I maybe have a broken collarbone again but- dad I- WILL YOU STOP SHOUTING?!”
She continued to yell into her phone for several minutes, and stormed off. Rubble and Spooks just shared a laugh, while Raven sighed. “I’m not looking forward to having that conversation. I imagine her father is going to be mightily upset with me.”
Twilight, having just overheard, stopped and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I wouldn’t worry about it. Her father’s very… financially oriented. Her breaking bones and going missing overnight isn’t exactly news to them. I mean, she is a teenager. Just offer to pay for the van and the medical, and you should be fine.”
Raven nodded, slightly assured, until her brain caught up with her wallet. “But I barely have enough left to pay for the boys! I still have to clean up the blood, the bodies, dig a bunch of graves, and-”
“-And my dad runs a construction company that specializes in demolitions and really big holes,” Rubble offered. “Seriously, he could probably have a few dozen plots dug up in a weekend. And honestly? Blood’s not as hard to clean as they make it sound. I mean sure, you’re never taking a blacklight into that room again, but surface damage isn’t that hard. Especially given the kind of treatment you need to make sure it doesn’t dry and rot, having been up there as long as it has. Although you might just settle for replacing the ceiling. Which, given the outrageous costs of cleaning companies, might be cheaper. Certainly less time-consuming than scrubbing the whole damn thing. And he could to it relatively cheap, given current market value. I kind of have an unofficial contract with them in cleaning up the weird shit that gets left behind when we do… this,” he gestured largely to the house behind them.
“Yeah, they’re doing a pretty good job cleaning up the hole in the gymnasium,” Dusty said in passing.
Spooks raised a hand as Raven looked ready to launch into a serious of rather worrying questions. “Trust me, you don’t want to know. It was… a lot worse than this.”
Rubble gestured at his bad leg. “Ya think?!”
“Ok, ok, my dad is on his way, without a lawyer,” Indigo explained, taking a seat on the porch again. “I told him I stuck around to watch you guys ‘hunt ghosts’ and got stranded when the van broke down in a spot with horrible reception.”
“And the broken collarbone?” Rubble inquired.
“Eh,” she shrugged with her good arm. “He stopped asking about that kind of thing ages ago. I mean, it’ll be healed soon enough, anyway. It’s a good thing I play soccer.”
“That is… an alarming sentiment,” Raven noted.
“Pffft, I’m much more interested in the whole punching ghosts thing,” Zap said pointedly, staring at Rubble.
RM sighed. “Ok, so you know how I wear my dad’s old stuff all the time?”
“Yes,” Spooks said quickly.
“Well, it turns out he’s kind of been haunting me for like three years, but I haven’t been able to like, communicate with him until I technically ‘died’. Which I guess puts to bed that whole heart-stopping thing from last Spring Break,” he added with a smirk.
Spooky’s eyes hiked around his sockets. “Ok, ok, so you weren’t dead.”
“Right. Well, apparently now that I know he’s around, we can kind of like, team up? He takes care of keeping me on my feet,” again he gestured to his legs, “And I do all the punching and stuff. Which now means that I can hit pretty much anything, cause he’s also doing the punching.”
“So you can’t punch ghosts, your dad can,” Spooks said smugly. Well, as smugly as he got, anyway.
“Nope. You don’t get to take this away from me. I punched a ghost. A LOT,” Rubble bragged.
“So… did the Consecration thingy send him away?” Indigo asked. There was one last large thud, and Treble took a quick seat next to them.
“Ok, that’s the last of it,” he said, breathing heavy. “Jesus that’s a lot of stuff.”
“I don’t think you should talk like that,” Raven mused. “This is technically hallowed ground.”
Treble mulled that over. “Eh, we’ve all done worse. Speaking of which, you guys said something about Rubble’s dad’s ghost? The fuck?”
Rubble gave him the cliffnotes version of everything up to that point that he’d missed. “And no, he’s not gone gone. When Spooky lit the book up, it went off like a signal flare. So dad hauled ass away from the explosion. Which I didn’t think he could do, earthbound rules and all that, but apparently there’s a few things back at my house that he’s also bound to. Really I just need any one of them with me to go ghost like that.”
“Earthbound rules?” Twilight asked, taking a seat with the rest of them. Dusty followed suit immediately after.
Spooks looked at the now decent crowd in front of him, and put on his ‘professor’ face. “Earthbound spirits are tied to one of three things: people, places, or material items. In Trouble’s case, he’s bound to the things that the military sent home to his family after he died, am I right?”
Rubble nodded. “Good so far, teach.”
“Well, in the case of multiple bindings, the spirit can hop freely between any of them, which makes certain hauntings very difficult. I imagine that the… ‘signal flare’ as you put it sent him running back to your house, which means that until we leave this hallowed ground, you’re stuck without him for the time being. Although this doesn’t mean we’re letting you off the hook in going back to the hospital.”
Rubble made a face. “Man. That’s gonna be like, all the money I made today. Fuck.”
The other boys looked between each other, and Treble turned to address Raven. “Miss Inkwell, if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask that you direct my share of tonight’s earnings, save for a hundred dollars, to Rubble’s paycheck.”
“Same,” Dusty chimed in. “Except I’d like to keep like, 150.”
“I only need about 75,” Spooky said thoughtfully.
Rubble looked around to his friends, and said a soft thank you. He then turned the chair around and wheeled himself around to the side of the house.
“Um, is he ok?” Twilight asked.
“Yeah, he just cryin’,” Dusty chided.
“NO I’M NOT. SHUT UP. YOU’RE CRYING!”
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Twilight just clicks with those guys like no other of the girls could. Sunset would be too "magic doesn't work that way!!" and "why the hell did I agree, again?" while the others would simply want nothing to do with true monsters. Twilight though needs only to carry her pendant and bring her sass/equipment. And start taking PE seriously.
I wonder how will Rumble's mother react to her husband' spirit haunting her son. Most likely with screaming, tearing and resignation. Also with sending his stuff to the couch by principle alone.
FUCK YEAH!
YES. ALL THE YES. SO. DAMN. SATISFYING. YES.
I'm kind of curious how the boys will react to finding out Earth is basically Equestria's dumping ground for unwanted magical artifacts (as made cannon by a certain memory eating rock) that have had between hundreds and thousands of years to lie around leaking "weird" and "dangerous" (in varying proportions).
WHOOP WHOOOOOP!!!
It’s basically an inevitability that the boys go to Equestria, so I’m only gonna wonder when.
This was a fun arc. I wonder if we'll see other Crystal Prep members in future arcs, or more Dazzling shenanigans. Of maybe see how the boys would react against a purely Equestrian threat.
This story is really fun. The OC characters are all interesting and they fit well with the canon characters. I kind of wish Twilight wasn't dating in canon, because her and Spooky would be pretty cute. Plus Rubble Aria was pretty hilarious last arc. Overall I can't wait for more
So as far as 3.5e classes go, we've basically got a Barbarian, Bard, Scout, and Wizard. Where would Sci-Twi fit in? She would, just wondering how.
8786300
alchemist or mechanist is most likely
A suitably epic finish, and without the apocalyptic aftertaste of the previous arc. (I have nothing against that, but it's nice to end on an unambiguously positive note.) Eagerly looking forward to the interlude.
8786285
Screw canon. Spookylight for LIFE!!!!!
Trouble and this chapter are full of win.
Lol, a literal Holy Hand Grenade.