It was a funny thing, unsaid but very known among the brave souls who were in on this adventure: when you've stripped away the glory of expedition and the mystery of the unknown lurking behind every courageous step, you were left with nothing but 17 very different people, most of whom were all nearly grown-ass men, all dead set on finding a utopia of pastel-colored ponies. To think that they could actually do such a thing only pronounced the evident: not only were they braver and more persistent than most, but they were more likely than not bat-shit crazy. It was this insanity that seemed to bond the strangers, even more than their sense of adventure, or their love of miniature horses from a television show designed for little girls.

Word of this journey had traveled from friend to friend, over state lines, national boundaries, and even oceans, to fancy the ears and imaginations of these bronies (and few pegasisters). And fancy their imaginations it did. Sure they had their share of skeptics, whether they be friends or even family members, but they believed in their lost cause. Like the natural instinct to root for the underdog, they all gravitated towards this plan because of the unlikelihood of its success—the fact that it was almost too crazy to work. Almost.

The plan was the idea of a thirteen year old boy from Georgia and a 24 year old man from Clinton Township, Michigan. The idea itself was simple, though preposterous: that an alternate land—no, an alternate dimension—could be accessed through a rainbow. Not just any rainbow, had persisted Observer, the Michigander in question, as he tried to convince his friends to join in. A fire rainbow.

They were an odd weather phenomenon—something very rare. And the fact that they were simply popping up as often as they were, more often than ever recorded in history, over the shores of sunny Miami simply needed investigating. Observer still remembered the moment the mind-fuck of an idea had dawned on him, even now as he stood waiting for its execution, he approached the airplane before him. Wait a second, he had thought. That looks like a…. and then the image of a burst of seven colors exploding from a soaring cyan Pegasus was all he could think of.

But could a Rainboom truly be found exploding over Miami? Over the topless babes bathing in the sun and glamorous golden sand beaches? These regular bronies were about to find out. One by one, they found their way to the long strip of midnight-black asphalt in Jacksonville, Florida to meet their pilot.

Tyler stood by the glorious aircraft that was, without a doubt, his baby: a magnificent Douglas DC-3C that went by the name of “The Mighty Canuck”. And mighty she was. With a wingspan of over 95 feet and a weight of over 25,000 pounds, this plane stood like a gargantuan idol statue, staring down the oncoming wave of bronies, waiting to start soaring at 200 miles an hour.

Under the captains window on the plane was Tyler’s nickname, “Archangel” scrawled in fine print, his title on display with pride, for all to see. A thick red stripe ran down the tail, implanted with the unmistakable image of the maple leaf from the Canadian flag.

Tyler’s Six-foot-Seven stature just screamed authority as he watched the admiring passengers drag themselves closer, all of them seemingly still-half asleep. At only 19, Archangel was pretty young for a pilot, but his body language still emanated with dominance beyond his years. When he had received the phone call from Silver Sea, the nickname of the young boy from Georgia who had helped brew up this insanity-streak of a plan, he was more than happy to donate his piloting skills. Flying was his purpose, and the sensation of being in the sky was his soul-mate. He had visited many countries at this point, but never before had he imagined an opportunity like this: a chance to see Equestria outside his dreams. It was almost too much for him. After much, much, MUCH persuasion to Silver’s parents, convincing them to allow their family friend to take their son on a trip to God-knows-where, he had started the preparations, ranging from extra parachutes, parts, first aid kits, emergency kits, to making sure everything about this war bird was in tip-top shape. Not that the Canuck was ever less than perfect.

These passengers couldn't ask to be in better hands, even if his current mental state was more concerned and preoccupied than usual. The shock had only just worn off from seeing that text, and he stood there a little dumbly, staring at the ground, trying so hard to snap himself out of it before lift-off. He needed to be focused, he couldn't afford to allow anyone to be hurt. But still, after just finding out that his sister, his beautiful older sister Kayla, had just been in an auto accident outside of Toronto, while he was here in warm Miami and supposed to not have a worry in the world— it was too much for him. She was his best friend, the one who had always been there for him, and when she needed him, he couldn't return the favor. All he knew about her well-being from the text her boyfriend sent was that she was in critical condition, and he was here, perfectly fine. Without a doubt, he would have switched places with her—if anything was to happen to Kayla—No! Can’t think like that…. I just can’t.

He shook away the idea, and the onslaught of tears in his eyes. He had a responsibility to this journey and the people on it—he couldn't cloud his judgment with worries that were out of his hands. He faked a smile as he saw Silver Sea approaching in the distance, beaming at the aircraft and its pilot. Archangel reminded himself yet again of why he couldn't afford any distractions: Silver’s parents trust me. I can’t let anything happen to their son. Maybe I can’t help Kayla, but I can help this. And if anything did happen… I’d never forgive myself.

The Canadian distracted himself with the amusing sight of Observer. The tall Michigander stuck out like a sore thumb, being one of the palest, whitest human beings any of the bronies there had ever seen—you don’t get much sun, huh? His tall pale form was wearing an obnoxiously colorful Hawaiian shirt, littered with flowers and palm trees, and he looked very much like a pale floral giraffe. At six-foot six, Observer was only slightly shorter than Tyler, and while at the moment he had a moderately humorous appearance, he carried himself like a man who deserves respect, and due to his leader-like stance, he almost always got it.

The heavy humidity of Florida took some getting used to. I left a comfy 63 degrees for this, he asked himself incredulously. Indeed, this had been him and Silver’s idea, but if he hadn't thought of it himself, he probably would have called whoever did freaking insane. Observer was not one of those people who pushed himself towards new things. He liked his life the way it was. Simple, predictable. But the beckoning of adventure was too much for him, and drew him out of his hermit ways, and he came to Jacksonville, calling himself insane all the way.

He was about to board with 16 strangers. Well, they weren't all strangers. Tyler he knew pretty well through Silver, and he had sent an online message or two to a few others. But he was mostly a loner, and trusted his judgment more than people. Most of them didn’t even know his true name.

Observer smiled down at the dog at his side, one of his only true companions in life, and felt his spirits lift at the sight of her cute brown eyes twinkling and her tail wagging enthusiastically. She started jumping around his ankles, full to the brim with excitement at the prospect of being the first dog from Earth to reach Equestria. Or maybe she was just hoping that if she looked cute enough, he would hand her an extra treat.

At least someone here has energy, thought Ed, one of the other members of this expedition (who also went by Thor) as he spotted the dog jumping at its owner’s side excitedly. He dragged his feet slowly under the weight of his luggage. The time-zone change from Latvia to Florida really fucked with his sleeping schedule. Black circles were visible beneath his eyes against his pale skin, and his blonde hair was slicked back to reveal a couple of scars. He very much resembled the creepy form of a Tim Burton character.

He had left a farm back home, one where his family raised their own livestock. To say that America was different was an understatement. They were complete polar opposites. With a tang of homesickness, he trudged on to the plane, wondering if anyone spoke Latvian in Equestria. After all, some of them seemed to speak French. In his luggage, he had packed every sketch book he could get his hands on, thinking of all the practice he could get from sketching the ponies in real life. He was an artist of sorts, and the glimmer of thought of him seeing Equestria was overwhelming. Once he was there, he wouldn’t be able to help himself but to draw everything he saw, from an Equestrian blade of grass, to an Equestrian home, to an Equestrian pile of horse-shit. The novelty of being there would never wear off, as far as he could tell. No one in this group could underestimate the Latvian’s love of ponies. He had just spent 15 hours on a plane across the Atlantic ocean over a blog post on a rainbow for the off-chance that maybe, just MAYBE, he might be able to see Ponyville with his own two eyes. If that wasn't dedication to a fandom, nothing was. Thor continued on to the plane, watching the dog’s owner nervously, the oldest one on this trip among a group of teenagers.

The Latvian wasn't the only one watching Observer anxiously. Hana (who also went by the nickname of Glitternight), a girl with long black hair and faded bruises on her tan skin, looked at the Michigander with a hint of fear in her eyes. Her demeanor was fragile and small as she shifted closer to her boyfriend who walked alongside her and instinctively put a reassuring arm around her shoulders. It had been hell to get her here, though no worse than the hell he had just broken her out of—a place that had broken her down to being afraid of nearly everything but her boyfriend and her own shadow—but what better a place to start over than Equestria? She and her man had journeyed pretty far already, taking a three-day bus ride from Phoenix, AZ to Jacksonville. A plane would have been quicker and cheaper (and God knows it would have been more comfortable, she thought in response to her aching back) but that would require federal papers she simply didn’t have—especially given she had just ran away from a CPS group home under foster care. In a few weeks, when she was 18, she could apply for the papers again; maybe even get a job if this whole portal-to-an-alternate-dimension thing didn’t work. But Hana just couldn't stay where she was any longer.

When her boyfriend had mentioned the crazy blog he was sent by a friend, a story about a possible rip between dimensions in the form of a rainbow, he had only been kidding around. But it caught her interest. It’s perfect, she had thought. The perfect place to start over, and actually be happy. As they approached the plane and Observer, the anxiousness started to lift. Sure, the Michigander was probably big enough to snap her bones like a toothpick if he tried, but the way he was smiling at the puppy at his side, there was no way she could ever picture him trying to hurt anyone. But the idea of being trapped on a plane with so many strangers was unsettling. She had never met any of them. They were Reuben’s, her boyfriend’s, friends. Not hers. She smiled as the arm around her tightened, and she looked up at her dork of a boyfriend, the wonderful man who had gotten her into this whole “pony” thing in the first place.

Though he had just turned 18, he spoke with an intelligence beyond his years, however cynical those smart thoughts might be. While Reuben, (better known among his brony buddies as Omegadarkness) was one smart guy, he usually had no idea what to do in a large group, tending to rather sit and fiddle his thumbs or indulge himself in a handheld game than spark a conversation with people he barely knew. Perhaps it was that he was socially awkward to a fault. Or, more likely, it wasn't so much that he was awkward in front of people, but that he hated humanity’s guts. Omega didn't really say more than he needed to say; not unless he trusted you. And with the world the way it was, there weren't too many people he could trust. He was too busy protecting the few he did love with a deadly ferocity to think about trusting the ones attempting to hurt them.

He eyed the youngest member of the group, chatting away with the pilot in the distance, through his half-open eyes. So that’s the one that started all this, he thought to himself, nervous at the thought of trusting an expedition thought up by the over-imaginative mind of a twelve year old. He felt a migraine coming up at the idea. The kid looked hyper and jumpy. God, I hope he doesn't sit near me, I hate kids. He grumbled at the circumstance of an annoying kid squeaking around in his cracking pre-puberty voice in the seat behind him.

“Great, just great”, he mumbled to himself out loud, and to distract himself from one worry, his mind ventured to another, and he thought again at how little he and Hana had packed for this. There wasn't much she could bring, her being a runaway from the Arizona Child Protective Services. The Walmart bag slung over her shoulder held nothing but a couple of day’s worth of clothes and her writing journals (all she ever did was write, it being the only escape from the prison she once lived in). Omega had been a bit more self-spoiling with his packing—a PSP, a gallon of water, some snacks (most of which he would probably give to Hana anyways) a few clothes, and a sexy pin-up poster of his favorite lavender unicorn. Twilight Sparkle best pony. He mentally went down the checklist. Yup, he thought to himself as he smiled at the beautiful girl at his side, leaning into his warmth. He kissed her forehead as they walked. I've got everything I need.

Following the happy couple was another girl, Matilda Grimsworth, who went by the name of Ghostly Glow. She was considerably younger than most of them, only 14 years old, and unlike Hana, she was arriving alone, her suitcase bumbling over the asphalt at her heels. She had fit so many books into the small bag, along with a parachute and quite a few knives. She wasn't stupid. If she was going to be trapped on a small private plane with no communications tower and a bunch of Neanderthals, then she was going to come prepared. Ghostly knew she was absolutely bonkers. She even took pride in it. But one thing she was not was an idiot. How else had she escaped that mental institution so easily?

She looked curiously at the nervous girl in front of her—another runaway, huh? She recognized that fear anywhere, having once gone through it herself. At least I’m not the only Pegasister here. She had been the first girl to sign up for this trip, and that was on her mind. When she first caught eye of the blog, claiming that weird weather was the answer to inter-dimensional travel to a land ruled by colorful ponies, she knew it was her type of gig. Un-researched and unprepared delving into the depths of the unknown in a stream of risk-taking that would almost indefinitely lead to utter disaster—she lived for that type of shit. At least it kept things interesting.

While Matilda was most likely the oddest person on this endeavor, loneliness was not going to be an issue for her. Not only was she meeting a friend at the air strip, but she had brought one along. No one else could see Tod, the imaginary friend that lived in her mind and filled her thoughts with delectably gory fantasies, but he was as good a friend as she could ever find; a ponyfied version of Sweeney Todd, she could easily depend on him for support or protection, and, of course, some absolutely succulent pie recipes.

She spotted the Latvian carrying his luggage nearby and heard him mutter something in his native tongue—most likely some vulgar profanity towards the ridiculous hour at which they had to awake. She glanced around for the friend she was supposed to meet, the Latvian not being the only brony dedicated enough to cross oceans. Ghostly had convinced Stephen, also known as Suke, a Brit from a relatively small town in the UK to pack his bags and quite suddenly hop on a flight to Florida. She searched around for him as she made her way to the aircraft.

He’s not coming, Tod whispered in his dark home in her mind.

Of course he is, she thought in response. He wouldn't miss out on Equestria. She spotted him in the distance and muttered, “I told you so.”

Stephen carried only a couple of bags, one slung over his shoulder and the other bumping along on wheels. Not very much of his belongings were with him though, as he had been arguing with himself not to over-pack. He had only brought his favorite clothes and a couple of distracting electronics, along with all the sentimental junk he just couldn't bear to leave home with his dad (a dad who was no doubt furious that Stephen decided to leave on a last-second basis, quit his new job, and left his friends and family at the drop of a hat to fly to a fictional land of ponies above Miami with a group of loud, fat, Americans). He had gotten carried away, booking tickets out of the blue like this. This may not have been the type of thing that Stephen normally did, but the concept of travelling to Equestria, of seeing Applejack, and Luna, and even the obnoxious Rainbow Dash—it was all too much for this lad from Derbyshire, England.

While he was already here, and it was a little bit too late to go back now, he had to admit that most of the Americans he’d met were rather loud, rather chubby boisterous people who seemed to thrive on their own obnoxiousness and so-called swag. He despised swag, with its un-encouraging of education. Stephen prayed to Almighty Luna that he never caught it, the plague already existing in Britain. Anything America had, the Brits wanted. While this whole ordeal seemed a little overwhelming, and rather annoying when he thought of the people he had seen in America so far, he’d rather go through this ten times then go back home and face the wrath of his most-likely enraged father.

He started shaking slightly in his boots more with every step he took towards the plane. While bravery and adventure-taking wasn’t at the top of his list, chivalry and charm were. He actually was quite charming, knowing how to sing, and play piano. It’s incredible, he would say sometimes to his reflection, that you don’t have a girlfriend. Maybe Equestria would get that taken care of, he thought to himself with a chuckle. Of course, he was meeting Ghostly, the American girl who had so rashly convinced him to sign on to this expedition at the very last second—but as he was 19 and she was barely 14, he couldn't really see her as girlfriend material. And even if she wasn't, he would be too socially awkward to make a move anyways.

Like Omega, he eyed the 12 year old with nerves at the youth of their leader. But it was much too late now. This show was already on the road, and for Stephen at least, there was no going back now.

Closely behind Stephen was a well-built man with ocean blue eyes, cursing at the weight of his bag in his British accent. Why did I even pack in the first place, he thought to himself, while the bag bumped on the asphalt behind him. This whole plan was stupid. Ridiculous, really. To think that you could access an alternate dimension (if a fictional world from a TV show counts as that) was preposterous to the gentleman, and he was only here to humor his good friend, Stephen. After all, the lad had left his job and his family on a whim. He deserved some support. But did Matthew actually believe it was possible? Hell no. But he sure wasn't going to tell his friend this after the annoyingly loud and uncomfortable plane ride and the time, money, and determination put into this. Matt knew a thing or two about determination. After all, he hadn't joined the British army for nothing. While he knew this entire trip was a wild goose chase, and would more likely than not (scratch that-- would DEFINITELY) end in complete failure, he respected his friend’s efforts to the point that he had come all this way.

Following the Brits was a well built teenager who looked more like a jock then a watcher of “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic”. His name was Carlos, but went by the alias of Brony Pony, among those of his own kind. To put him simply, he had the attention span of a goldfish and his brain was more over-stimulated than that of a stoner staring at a lava lamp. It was impossible for Carlos to focus on only one thing at a time, when there were so many wonderful fun-filled things around him, and especially when those wonderful things were pony-related. How could anyone be bored around ponies? He thought as he near-skipped down the asphalt strip. His absent-mindedness ruled all and his expression looked as excited as a ditzy blonde at Macy’s on the day of a sale.

Of course, his easy distraction often led to his downfall. He had gotten lost at least four times on his way to the airport, and the hotel he had spent the night in was only one block away. He had enough bubbliness in his muscular, Hispanic-looking form to rival even Pinkie Pie’s. In fact, they would more than likely be best friends upon them meeting; the two of them both always so pleasantly out of it. He silently admired the pilot, tall and dominant, in his custom black leather Royal Canadian Air Force jacket. Totally Bad-flank, he thought to himself with a manly giggle. Instead of weighing himself down hoards of heavy hardcover books, he brought his Kindle, full to the brim with his favorite fan-fictions. He had over a hundred stories on that device alone, more than enough to keep his brain busy, at least until the plane lands, or until something more interesting snatched his attention—Oh my Celestia, a PUPPY!

He smiled at the snow-white dog, wondering if it would be weird if he suddenly pet the wagging, hopping ball of fur. He glanced at the owner, a very pale, very tall man in a very colorful Hawaiian looking shirt. He guessed this must be Observer, the oldest of the group, who (along with the youngest of the group) had thought up this whole fiasco. Carlos then watched the pilot, who seemed a bit worried about something. Yikes—if there’s one thing I don’t like seeing, it’s a distracted pilot. Carlos’s mind wandered to how he had wanted to be a pilot when he was younger. Thank Celestia that never happened. I probably would have lost focus with every cloud or bird and crashed us into a building.

Behind Carlos came Joshua, camcorder in hand. Josh, AKA Codejunkie, wasn't going to miss out on a single second of Equestria. And once he was there, he was going to document everything he can. The fame of being among the first bronies in Equestria to see Ponyville? It was an opportunity he wouldn't dare miss. He was also a little too young to be going on this trip on his own, being only 13 and a half. His parents weren't that attentive; in fact, it’d probably be a couple of days before they even noticed he was gone, and even a couple more before they started caring. Perhaps before then, they would have seen the lengthy email explaining his whereabouts that he was only just sending from his cell phone. Codejunkie was just praying they didn’t find out before he got to Equestria. It was much easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Like the rest of the members of this journey, he hadn't exactly thought it all the way through. Perhaps if he did, he wouldn't have come here, would he? A couple of artists he had favorites on his regular fan-fiction site had posted something about a portal in the clouds. When one artist had commented with a joke about it being some portal, a few more responded with the same thing that Joshua was thinking as he laughed it off: What if?

Those were the words that ran this entire expedition. And one way or another, that question was going to be answered.

Codejunkie turned the camera to himself and grinned wide, waving stupidly into the lens and the red light glaring him down. “Codejunkie here and soon, My Little Bronies,” he said dramatically into the camera, “We will all behold the wonders of Equestria, and you will all see this, given we return…” (dramatic pause) “…alive.”

Joshua then aimed the camera at a brony who went by the name of Sean (a football player who was missing out on the season to participate in this trip). Sean had an adorably pudgy face, similarities evident between him and the character Mumble, from Happy Feet. Being 14, he was still rather young to be on this trip, especially all the way from Gaylord, Michigan. A brony named Wolfy Hige strode nearby, a lost and befuddled expression clouding his usually vibrantly excited face. He knew that he had forgotten something. He almost always did. In fact, he had barely remembered that he was going on this trip, and very well would have forgotten its existence if Silver Sea hadn't called him a couple of days ago asking how much he was packing. Not very much, I guess, he thought as he strolled closer to the plane with his small bag in tow. The words The Mighty Canuck glared back at him in the rising sun—whatever the hay a Canuck was completely evaded his knowledge, him being from the Caribbean and raised nowhere near those who spoke with Canadian terms. He waved at Silver, the 12 year old being the only one here that he actually knew, and the young brony waved back enthusiastically, the excitement clear as day on his face.

Wolfy seemed to be the only one here not intimidated by their leader’s young age, Silver might only be 12, but he was way smarter than the average pre-teen boy. Wolfy glanced at the pilot, who seemed to be the very embodiment of Badassery and Awesome Sauce. Archangel (as Silver had introduced the pilot as over the phone) seemed completely sure of himself and – oh, was that worry? No, Wolfy thought to himself, pushing away the concept of a worried pilot, He’s probably just not a very positive person or something… I’m sure it’s gonna be okay… right?

He thought back to the prospect that he had forgotten something. He had brought books and his cell phone (he checked his pocket for it to double-check). He had snacks and extra shoes, and a pillow, and clothes and—shit. Underwear! He face-palmed, but decided it wasn't too bad. Everyone was naked in Equestria. And even if he did need his clothes, he was sure Rarity could make a pair of boxers or two just for him.

Wolfy whistled a catchy tune that was immediately deciphered by the brony behind him as “Discord” by Euro-beat Pony. Tenebrae, the internet name of the brony in question, knew pretty much every fan-made piece of music even remotely connected to ponies completely by heart. He normally would have had to fight to resist the urge to sing along with Wolfy’s whistling, but quite honestly, he was in too much of a crappy mood at the moment, as he stared down the morning sun that seemed to want nothing more than to glare directly in his eyes. Well, fuck you too, then., he thought back to the world as he hunched below the oppressing weight of his backpack—he was seemingly swimming through his own sweat and the thick humidity of Florida. It suffocated him with a vice-grip. All this for a trip that probably won’t even work.

He had spent the week convincing his parents that this whole adventure wouldn't even work, to persuade them that nothing could go wrong if they were to drive him to Jacksonville, Florida. But through all the negative reassurance, a bit of pessimism had spread to his head, and he was starting to have some negative thoughts of his own. What if this was all for nothing? He asked himself this, even now, as he was trudging half-dead to the plane, most likely looking much like a zombie with a bad case of bedhead.

He had also been contacted by Observer and Silver Sea, and was now mentally reminding himself to punch them both in the nuts when it failed. When they told him the date of the trip so many days ago, he had been nonchalant, but as the date approached insidiously, the panic set it. He had spent the previous night packing and unpacking in a frenzy. What do you take to a magical world of ponies, anyway? He repetitively asked himself this as he wondered if he would even receive a cell signal in Equestria. He stood here now, swatting at mosquitoes in the humidity, feeling rather stupid. But underneath all the negativity, there was an ounce of hope—if there wasn't, he wouldn't have bothered showing up, would he?

A quiet girl watched Tenebrae whack at the mosquitoes indiscriminately as they swarmed him. Perhaps it was the way he was waving his arms like an idiot at something nearly invisible, or the look of It’s too fucking early for this stamped on his face, but she had so much trouble stifling a giggle. Shadowed Rainbow, as this girl went by, was the third and final Pegasister in this group on this endeavor. And she was actually quite confident that it would work.

It didn’t seem so preposterous to her. After all, she thought to herself upon signing up for the expedition, miracles happen everyday. She was a smart girl, being the second oldest one here at the age of 20, and was almost always lost in some kind of book. In her hands was Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, a book she had probably read a million and three times. She liked fantasy—it didn’t seem all that far from reality at times.

Carlos strode by Shadowed, muttering something rather loudly about “Dat Flank” as he strode by. She rolled her eyes, mentally noting that Brony Pony was, in fact, rather cute. But of course, the fact that he’s most likely an immature child seems to outweigh that.

Quylaa, a mysterious member that no one seemed to know much about approached the group quietly, his feet making no noise, his eyes just staring down the passengers as he strolled by. Observer eyed Quylaa a little nervously. Honestly, before now, he hadn't even known if this member was a boy or a girl, no picture being provided on the sites they all communicated by. The boy had packed light, only the bare necessities—a bottle of water, a bologna sandwich, and his cell phone, memory card full to the brim with fan-fictions.

In the distance, the latest member of the party was just showing up, wearing, of all things, a fez. It was a keepsake from his friends, something he couldn't bear to part with, and he had to admit, he looked pretty damn good wearing it. It’s a fez. I wear a fez now. Fezzes are cool. Benjamin lived in Florida, so he was one of the few who had no real issue with the heavy heat rolling off the asphalt, and his parents were just fine with him going on this insane trip, much to his surprise. He was only 16, but he felt very much like a grown man, given his parents had allowed him to go off in the world like this. It was almost too exciting for words.

And of course, the second he had managed to get out in the world, he had gotten his sorry-ass lost in the airport. While his parents had gotten him there a half-hour early, he spent the next hour looking for the group he was supposed to leave with. In his panic, his mind scolded him with mutters of, They've probably left without you, good job, Dumb-ass. or Dude, you should have known it would be this difficult, we’re talking about the kid who rode his bike to his friend’s house and came home only to realize he had forgotten the bike.

He had searched the entire mile radius of the address maybe five times over before he spotted the group he was supposed to be meeting. He didn’t know any of them, but knew enough to tell a group of bronies from the rest. He ran towards the plane, hoping they wouldn't leave him behind or be mad for his tardiness, his military backpack flopping against his back with every step.

The name of the plane looked back at him. The Mighty Canuck. He started glancing from one passenger to the next, trying to memorize the faces. What he saw were varying expressions of anxiety, fear, excitement, happiness, and even one very creepy grin on the face of a young teenage girl who was talking to herself in the corner. Seems pretty natural. He thought to himself.

“Alright, Everypony, let’s get this show on the road!” shouted Silver Sea, who beamed at the smiles his pony terms brought to everyone’s faces. The second his parents had allowed him to go on this trip with their friend Tyler, he had been buzzing over with over-excitement. He was going to see Equestria. He couldn't believe it.

They lined up at the doorway of the plane, as Archangel, Observer and Sean started loading in the luggage. There was quite a bit of it, most of which belonging to Archangel. He had everything for any known emergency. Axes, medical supplies, tools, etc. there was no way he was going to let them down. Bad joke.

Stephen approached Matilda, the one who had convinced him to go through with all this trouble. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he fiddled his thumbs before deciding to extend one for a handshake. He took a deep breath and began speaking: “Er… Hi? I’m Suke.” So far so good, self, he muttered inwardly. But then, something went haywire and he didn’t stop. “Well, my web name is Suke. I’m Stephen Massey, middle names David and Ratcliffe. Call me whatever.” Matilda glared back, not saying anything, and he filled the awkward silence, like an idiot, with more bumbling words. Because that’s just what the moment needs. “Didn’t really need my middle names… My friends call me Doctor Massey for the initials.” He hung his head and looked to his feet in the heavy silence. “Sorry.”

She had an expression that looked amused and said nothing before clearing her throat. “Matilda Grimsworth. Nice to meet you in the flesh.” She took his hand. “I’m going to call you Steve.”

“Steve is good. Steve is fine with me.” He smiled as he shook hands with the first friend he made since coming to this rather annoying country.

Soon, the doors opened and the passengers were free to marvel at the sight of the inside of the fine plane. The cabin was rather large inside, all of the luggage they had brought fitting neatly behind the three single seats on the right side, along with a Ex-United States Army Indian 741 Scout Motorcycle. They all took their seats, some of them talking among themselves, and exchanging hellos to Silver Sea and Observer as they passed, those two members being the only ones that most of them knew.

Observer approached Tyler as the pilot leaned across one of the seats. “You okay, Tyler?” Observer asked, genuinely concerned for his friend. “You look troubled.”

Tyler planted a smile over his face rather abruptly; a fake smile, a “say cheese” smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just…. Something on my mind,” he said as he grimaced once more as Observer turned to his seat, one of the singles on the right side, the white pooch jumping enthusiastically in the Michiganders lap.

Directly across from Observer, Stephen took his seat next to Matilda, who was now rather quiet and inattentive, listening to her iPod while he looked around the plane and at his fellow bronies. Wolfy took the single behind Observer, not wanting to sit next to anyone he didn’t know, as Silver Sea was going to head to the cockpit with the pilot. A 12-year old co-pilot, that makes me feel safe.

Behind Matilda and Stephen, Hana and Omega took their seats. He let her take the window seat and sat in the one right besides her, putting an arm around her as they settled in. Without a word, he handed her the headphones to his PSP, and started playing Coconeru’s cover of The Doctor’s Lullaby, a song he knew calmed her down. He kissed her cheek as she smiled upon hearing it.

Behind the couple, the Latvian picked a window seat and Brony Pony collapsed next to him. “DO YOU SPEAK ENGLISH?” Carlos shouted into Thor’s ear, rather loudly. The Latvian shook his head at the stupidity of some Americans. “YES!” He shouted back, directly into BP’s ear, making sure it was loud enough to hurt. “ALSO, I’M NOT DEAF!”

Tenebrae took his seat next to Code-Junkie. They shook hands in mutual respect. “Aren’t you excited?” CJ asked Tenebrae with a huge grin. “Um… sure.” Tenebrae was struggling not to sound like the only pessimist in the group.

Ben took his seat behind Wolfy, his fez being admired by all of the other passengers. “I reversed the jelly baby of the neutron flow,” muttered Omega at the blatant Doctor Who reference, as Hana lay against his shoulder, and Ben beamed at the fellow brony’s recognition.

Shadowed laid in her seat and cracked open her book as Sean headed to the bathroom.

“Does anypony need anything or forget anything before we leave?” Silver shouted for all to hear.

The all shouted or muttered a no in response, and Silver headed to the cockpit with Tyler. “Hey, Archangel, when are we taking off?”

“Right now,” he responded nonchalantly. He started going through the aviator’s pre-flight and start-up checklists, trying to ignore the voice in his head that was nagging him about his sister, about matters that were out of his hands. He was responsible for the lives of these seventeen passengers. If something went wrong, there was only him to blame.

He flipped the right starter and after a bit of coughing from the engine, the engine roared to life. He flipped the switches, turned knobs and hit one of the buttons, one after another like clockwork, forcing his sister’s face out of his head. He spoke to the “cheery” ATC and began taxiing. The grumble of the two Pratt & Whitney Twin Wasp engines eased his mind slightly. The massive aircraft turned onto the runway as Tyler received final clearance for take-off. He made his final adjustments before steadily increasing the throttles.The scenery outside the window rolled by faster and faster, until it was finally time to fly this old war bird, with a smile as his spirit soared (the way it always did when he was about to take to the skies), Tyler pulled the control column back. He raised the flaps, landing gear, and contacted Jacksonville Center as he and the seventeen passengers climbed higher and higher in the blue Florida skies, heading towards Miami.

Time to go dance with the Angels... Next Chapter: The Fall From Grace... Estimated time remaining: 2 Hours, 45 Minutes