White
A convention was taking place somewhere, and many had gathered to it, a generic setting. Within, many costumed fanboys and fangirls wandered about, doing whatever it is that they do when they go to these things. However, one man stood alone among them... and he is the focus of this Chapter. His name will be lost to the annals of this world's history from here on out, so for simplicity's sake, we shall dub him... White, the first of the five to discover their spark, and awaken it, thanks to a suspicious booth vendor.
And so our story begins...
White was dressed as a generic knight this fine day, making him almost invisible at the convention center in which the gathering of nerds like him had taken place. He had come for the sake of finding his many friends here, but he only found nothing. White was a man of tradition, and he came to relive his nostalgia, arriving in hopes that those who dressed would dress correctly, and pay their respects to what nerds were all about: Chivalry to the point of becoming doormats, video games, and clever references and costumes. But no, all his tired, 23-year-old eyes saw were scum: unkind, pimply, obese losers in lame, not-clever shirts, whores with minimal armor and big swords, and the one thing that made him saddest of all: Die-hard bronies, dressed as their favorite characters from the weak, girly show. Sighing, White shook his head, wondering if their was any hope for humanity at this point. Nerds just weren't what they used to be, you know? So, ignoring the raving, acne-ridden plebs he was surrounded by, He walked on, his honor refusing him to judge any of them, though he sorely wanted to. Suddenly, White hit something large, and when he backed up, a great ham-beast, with glasses, acne, and a Call of Duty T-shirt stood before him, glaring with contempt. In a nasally voice, the try-harding monster called White out for his costume, with excessive ridicule:
"Watch where you're going, you noob!" The fat man said, glaring, but White stood firm, refusing to waste his honor speaking to such a troubled basement-dweller.
"Excuse me, sir, I wasn't paying attention to you. My apologies, I'll be leaving." White said simply, moving to go around the wide, greasy, sad excuse for a human. As was said, nerds just weren't what they used to be.
"Yeah, you better run, you scrub, take that lame, unrelated costume out of my sight before I get my friends on you!" The ham beast called, but Whit did not stop, though he trembled with eagerness to destroy the vile, slovenly demon. But White was better than said man, for this reason: He was a true geek: Humble, creative, and unjudging of his peers. That... thing, back there... it was not. That creature was just a fat, unfortunate man in a silly shirt, nothing more. God, even bronies, homestucks, and whovians were easier to put up with than their ilk: At least they believed in something, and often were dedicated to it. He admired that, if little else. Sure, those three fandoms' fans were not very original, but they stuck to it, and to each other. If only they did not shove their fandoms down the throats of the unaligned, or even each other, White would have admired them. Alas, only the eldest fandoms, like Star Wars, Dungeons and Dragons, and Magic: The Gathering could ever hope to exist in peace with eachother, which is why they've existed as long as they have. These newborns, however... their jealousy and contempt for eachother and everyone else was disgusting.
Finally, White snapped from his inner thoughts, and paused at the sound of noring, coming from beside him. He had come across a booth in his travels at last, the vendor selling five plain metal rings, each with the symbol for each color of mana in MtG, a card game he happened to be a big fan of. Walking up to the still-snoring vendor, he looked at the price tag on the ring representing his favorite mana color: White, the color of law, justice, and order. White read this tag, and marveled in shock at the price: Only one cent.
"One cent?" He asked the rather generic "evil wizard" Running the booth, causing the robed-and-armored fellow behind the booth to wake with a start, then yawn loudly, his nap interrupted.
"Huh? Oh, the ring? Yeah, one cent." The guy said, leaning in his chair, and looking ready to fall asleep again. This amazed White, seeing as white was his favorite color, rings were his favorite form of accessory, and cheap was his favorite price to pay. Though, he would still be happy if it was more: He would have paid anywhere at least in the thousands for such a beautiful accessory. Plus, the metalwork and the fact he only made one would easily qualify for it being worth more...
"How much for the Celestia Cutie-mark ring?" a brony dressed as Rainbow dash (not that White would really know) who came running out of the blue asked, pushing White out of the way, and drawing the vendor's indescribable ire. In fact, White was almost afraid the man dressed as an armored wizard would actually cast some kind of fireball or something. But, instead, the vendor huffed indignantly, glaring at the brony who so rudely rushed up, and then disgraced the name of Magic with his feeble-minded brony ways.
"It's a white mana ring, you dumbfuck. Just because you got that wrong AND approached me in that HORRIBLE costume, It's four hundred thousand dollars." The wizard said, crossing his arms in anger.
"Four hundred grand?! Are you high!? The price tag says One cent! Besides, It's obviously Celestia's Cutie-mark, you uncultured hater!" The obnoxious twit said, slamming his chubby fists on the counter.
"No, You just think it is because you can't pull your god damn head out your ass. It's the white mana symbol from Magic: the Gathering. If you're not too busy jacking off to pastel ponies, Google it." White said, his limit reached by the horrible creature that dared call itself a geek... it wasn't even worthy of the name. The brony, obviously enraged, flew into a rant, But white ignored him, walked back up to the counter, and he purchased the ring at It's default price. The vendor then tanked him, handed him the ring, White then put the lovely, pearlescent accessory on his pointer finger. The brony quickly grabbed his hand and tried to steal the ring in a fit of rage, but White managed to wrest his hand free. However, this only made the horse-faggot zealot even more enraged that someone else had acquired a mistaken sacred relic to his religion. It made him so angry, in fact, that he pulled out a switchblade he had sneaked past security on White. Thankfully, two security guards, dressed as Imperial guards from oblivion, ironically, intervened and removed the psychotic horse-worshiping faggot from the convention center. The guy kept screaming that White "stole" the ring from him and that it was his, but no one listened, thankfully. Truly, of all the newborn fandoms, the bronies disgusted him the most. Still, he saw no quarrell with them as a fandom, and merely accepted them. Finally, the ordeal done, White decided to head home and forget this travesty of a convention, but the universe decided that it had other plans for him. Suddenly, as he turned to leave, White disappeared in a flash of multicolored light, leaving only a circle of soot where he stood.
Despite the display, though, no one noticed on account of the ordeal with the psychotic brony... except the wizard, who said nothing. In fact, if one looked through the shadow his helmet provided to hide his face, one could almost see the 'vendor' seem to... smile.
Despite this, another still came to that booth, with the same intentions as white... and the same level of misfortune, as well.
