• Published 26th Sep 2011
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Elementals of Harmony - FanOfMostEverything



(FiMtG) The only thing standing between Equestria and apocalypse is Ditzy Doo. Yes, really. Stop laughing!

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Even on the Battlefield

Ditzy tried to effect nonchalance as best she could after resorting to magical hypnotism to end an uncomfortable conversation. It was proving difficult. Guilt was piling onto the burden of fear and incredulity that she'd gathered at the Carousel Boutique, and the seething emotions were making it very hard to focus on the questions that were nagging at her. What had caused her to drop her careful mask so easily? Why was she so willing to offer truths that she hadn't confessed to anyone in all of Equestria before now? Why did her memories of most of the time spent talking to Rarity feel distant, secondhand, like she'd been watching herself?

As she put distance between herself and the dressmaker's shop, the answer became so clear that it was retrospectively obvious. "Generosity," she muttered. The haze of blue mana that surrounded the shop was attracted by that Element of Harmony, and it had insinuated itself into a mind all too receptive to its influences. Blue magic was, among other things, about information and knowledge, and as the saying went, information wanted to be free. Even if the holder of that information didn't. It was that magic that had loosened the pegasus's tongue.

Ditzy sighed. That's what she got for not keeping up any mental defenses. Years of the idyllic peace and general absence of mind control in Equestria had made the possibility of a unicorn detecting strange magic around a pegasus seem like a bigger risk than a psychic attack. Well, at least now she knew, and that would be especially handy for dealing with the Element of Honesty. If the boutique had loosened her tongue, then Sweet Apple Acres would unscrew it completely if she went unprepared.

Deep in such thought, the mailmare wasn't really paying attention to where she was going, and as such passed by a certain tree/library. She became alarmingly aware of her location once she got sufficiently close, as did everypony in earshot. It's hard, after all, to not notice a pained shout of "Sweet Celestia's solar seraglio!"

While the crowd traded concerned looks and sighs of "There goes Derpy," the grey mare was met with a kaleidoscopic explosion of color like a continual sonic rainboom. Instinctively, she took to the air and promptly got tangled in the building's branches. As she struggled with blindness and branches alike, the sensory overload began to leak into full synesthesia. Her eardrums itched from a pulsing sour chafe. Her tongue was dazzled by a grating whistle. Her sinuses spasmed from a suffusion of repugnant yellow.

After a brief eternity, she struggled out of the building's grasp and surged as fast as she could until she hit an obstruction. The shock of impact, which mercifully registered along the intended nerves, was enough to bring her back to lucidity. A brief moment of panic was followed by the realization that she wasn't still blind; everything was white because her head was literally stuck in a cloud. A moment's struggle removed her from the puff, allowing her to warily look back at the library.

"Magic…" She'd known that the Element of Magic was, unsurprisingly, attracting all colors of mana, but the intensity of its field had been roughly that of the other Elements only a few days ago. Now it was overwhelming her mana sight like a spotlight placed an inch from her face. Yet from here, the sheer quantity of mystic energy that had overwhelmed her appeared as an innocuous aura, a thin rainbow outlining Twilight Sparkle's home. "Pure elemental magic. I can't even get close." The earlier emotional turmoil was forgotten now that she had actual physical pain to deal with. Gingerly placing herself on the cumulus cotton ball she'd hit, Ditzy decided that a brief recuperative nap was decidedly in order. Then, she'd go to the one remaining Element that wouldn't require extensive preparation to get to and through. Hopefully.


Years in the past (but even fewer)

In her forays throughout the Multiverse, Ditzy Doo had determined that there were a few fundamental constants, principles by which all the myriad planes operated. Goblins were annoying, present in nearly every plane, came in only one quantity (too many), and had an impressive talent for killing themselves. Humans were largely similar, but generally had better hygiene and on occasion had better manners. Griffins were brutish jerks, regardless of intelligence level. But the one that resonated most with her upon her return to Equestria was this: Bureaucracy sucks.

At least law enforcement was willing to acknowledge that she matched the physical description and looked like the vanished foal would after this long. Sure, it was embarrassing for a case with zero leads to spontaneously solve itself, but at least the police accepted that she was, in fact, Ditzy Doo, especially when magic corroborated the claim. But was that enough for the Cloudsdale City Administration? Of course not. As far as they were concerned, Princess Celestia herself wasn't who she said she was without at least three forms of identification.

As such, Ditzy had taken the clearest option, and the most appealing to any planeswalker: She left. She didn't leave the plane, of course. In that regard, she was here to stay for as long as she could. No, she left the city. While she was at it, she left the sky as a whole. Asking after some of her old classmates had revealed that the only pony who might still remember her had moved to a ground-town called Ponyville that was remarkably near Cloudsdale. Well, fine by her. Even with an internal compass that was more like a pinwheel, she could see the nearest patch of gravity-bound civilization and hazard a descent to it. From there, it was just finding a job.

Serendipitously enough, she'd actually managed to find one within hours of arriving in town. Asking the pink pony who'd practically imitated an air raid siren at her arrival pointed Ditzy towards the post office. When she'd walked in, it contained only one pony and far, far more than one envelope. The indigo unicorn stallion looked up at the sound of hoofsteps and sighed. "If you're hoping for next day delivery, you really shouldn't get your hopes up."

"I'm actually here for a job."

He raised an eyebrow and lit his horn. A letter floated into her field of vision. "What's the address on this?"

She frowned. "If this about my eyes, I can see just fine. I flew here from Cloudsdale. You think I 'd have managed that without depth perception?"

He shrugged, then realized that she couldn't see it. Because of him. Thankful that she also couldn't see his slight blush, he justified the request. "Look, just think of it as the easiest job application you'll ever get, all right?"

She sighed. "Fine. Incantessa Octavia Pie, 26 Eighth Avenue, Apartment 44C, Manehattan, New Yoke 46543. The 'i's are all dotted with... are those muffins?"

"Is the return addressee Pinkamena Diane Pie?"

"Yes."

"Then they're more likely cupcakes." The envelope sailed out of view, revealing a very relieved looking pony. "In any case, welcome to the Ponyville Post Office. My name is Address Unknown."

"Ditzy Doo." She looked around at the paper-stuffed environs. "How many postponies are there in this town?"

Address smirked. "You've swelled our proud ranks by one hundred percent."

"Great…"

"Have I mentioned how truly grateful I am that someone finally came to help me?"

"Well, since we haven't discussed my starting salary..." A smile that evil simply didn't belong on any pony not devoted to bringing about eternal night, yet there it was.

The purple postpony bit back a curse. Oh, this filly was good.


In the months since Ditzy doubled the post office's workforce, its efficiency had been on a steady upswing. With both unicorn precision and pegasus speed chipping at it, the seemingly insurmountable backlog shrank on a daily basis. Ponyville by and large welcomed its new mailmare with open wings and forelimbs, even if an unfortunate early accident had saddled her with a dim-witted reputation and aggravating nickname that were proving near impossible to buck. Still, she had been able to reconnect with her old acquaintances from before her "disappearance" and was building new friendships as well.

On the other hoof, there was Address Unknown. As his name implied, he was an anomaly, an unexpected variable with which Ditzy just didn't know what to do. Any attempt to get a read on his nature was thwarted by a flawless mask of snark and sarcasm. Oh, Ditzy was well enough versed in such things, but it was through experience on plane after plane that was far less idyllic than Equestria. She couldn't help but wonder if trying to manage an entire post office on one's own was so stressful that it provided an equally cynical viewpoint. Still, asking about his past would inevitably lead to hers, a subject both were happy to leave undisturbed.

One day, however, the postal workers' dynamic underwent an inexplicable shift. Instead of playful jabs and nicknames, Address was exuding raw hostility and passive aggression. Nothing Ditzy did seemed to satisfy him. Coffee was undrinkable. Sorting was unacceptably slow and error-prone. Envelopes sliced through the air with vorpal snicker-snacks as the artificial-grape-colored unicorn's anger leaked into his magic.

It wasn't until after returning from the day's deliveries to a sotto voce "Took you long enough" that the pegasus chose to speak up. At first, she tried the usual camaraderie. "Sheesh, what crawled up your nose and died?" The unicorn said nothing, continuing to sort still undelivered letters like a ninja practicing with rectangular shuriken. Ditzy approached Address's desk and in a more sincere tone said, "You know, if anything's wrong, I'm here for you."

"Who asked you to be?"

She stopped in her tracks. She had never heard such pure, barely-restrained malice in Equestria. "I'm your friend, Address. That's what friends are for."

"'Friend'? Please." He telekinetically jammed a letter in the "out-of-town" cubbyhole so hard that the building gave a slight shudder. "I never asked for your friendship."

"Well, I'm sorry. I thought that in a two-pony work environment, the ability to tolerate one's co-worker would be helpful. I suppose I was mistaken."

He shifted his gaze to meet hers. Ditzy didn't flinch, but her heart did skip a beat. There was rage there, yes, but the puffy, bloodshot eyes told of sorrow as well. "Do you know what everypony calls you when they think I can't hear them?"

"Derpy Hooves?"

"No. They call you my replacement." He leaped over the service counter for a better glaring vantage point. "Do you have any idea what it's like to have somepony show up literally out of the blue and upstage you on what's supposed to be your special talent?"

"But I don't want to replace you! You taught me everything I know!"

"And how long did that take? A week? Less? What's the point of my existence if some bubble-flanked out-of-towner can just waltz in and render me obsolete in a matter of days?"

"You think I can do this on my own? You think you could? It's only because we're working together that we're doing this good a job!"

"That's not what the town thinks! They think I'm a flop. A failure. That I was content to let the mail stagnate until you came to shake things up. They think deliveries would be processed even faster if I wasn't here holding you back! That-"

The hurt in his voice and tears in his eyes had tugged heartstrings that proved far more pliable than Ditzy expected. Thus, she interrupted Address's address in the way that felt most right: A kiss. As their lips parted and the unicorn stared agog, she smirked and asked him, "Do you know what I think?"

"Buh?"

"I think that they don't know anything about what's actually going on. I think you have no reason to pay attention to them. I think that if it weren't for you, I'd be living in a tent on the edge of the Everfree Forest. And I think that you are a very attractive stallion when your dander is up."

"Guh?"

"Now, why don't we attack the backlog as best we can, and then we can have a nice dinner for two at that wonderful-looking cafe that just opened up?"

Address's brain was, by this point, sufficiently reinitialized to offer more than one syllable. "...OK." He had an enormous goofy smile plastered on his muzzle, angst-chocked ranting forgotten.


"Do you, Desiderata Lillian Doo, take this stallion to be your lawfully wedded husband, to nibble and to nuzzle, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do."

Mayor Mare turned to the groom. "And do you, Adrian Esteban Incognito, take this mare to be your lawfully wedded wife, to nibble and to nuzzle, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do."

"If anypony has a reason why these two should not be joined, speak now, or forever hold your peace."

This was followed by a chorus of chirping crickets. In her peripheral vision, Ditzy could see that the sound was actually being produced by her bridesmares, courtesy of Pinkie-tweaked kazoos. She stifled a giggle at this.

Beaming, the mayor concluded the ceremony. "Then, by the power vested in me, I now declare you pony and wife. You my kiss the bride."

Address did just that, to wild cheers and thunderous applause.


"You're almost there Ditzy, keep pushing!"

"Smut yo-yo brink tine chewing!" One of the pegasus's eyes had rolled back into her head. The other swivelled madly about, stopping occasionally to fix an unsettling glare on Nurse Redheart. She punctuated the vaguely cogent sentence with a piercing scream that echoed in the mind of every living being within a hundred miles. She felt something shift and collapsed to her knees.

Redheart's practiced hooves had the newborn slapped, sexed, and swaddled in ten seconds flat. "Congratulations," she gushed, "it's a filly." She passed the wailing creature to her mother.

With the odd clarity of complete exhaustion, Ditzy took in the greatest work of magic she ever wrought. Her daughter. A little filly that was a bit of her and a bit of Address and a whole lot of herself, whoever that might end up being. She seemed so impossibly small, especially the itty-bitty horn emerging from her absurdly adorable forehead. "Dinky," panted the new mother. "My Dinky."


Fluttershy hummed to herself as she made her way back to her cottage, loaded down with her customary monthly resupply. She was a big believer in buying in bulk, both for frugality's sake and for minimizing the time she had to spend troubling shopkeepers. (It was also the only way she knew to keep Davenport or his sister Boxspring, owner of Mattresses and Medical Supplies, from guilting her into buying furniture.) As a result, in addition to heavily loaded saddlebags, she was also pulling a small cart she kept specifically for carrying her voluminous purchases.

Obviously, this all meant that the gentle pegasus was returning home on hoof. This, combined with eyes closed in joyous anticipation of veterinary work, was what caused her to run into an unexpected obstruction within sight of her front door. Naturally, Fluttershy's first thought was to apologize. "Oh dear. I'm terribly sorry. I should've been looking where I was going." Courtesy satisfied, the pink-maned mare could then register who precisely she'd trotted in to. "Oh, hello Ditzy Doo. What brings you here? Um, if you don't mind my asking. Especially since you haven't even had a chance to respond to my apology. Oh..." The poor thing sank under a much heavier burden than groceries and bandages: shame.

She stayed sunk for a good minute or two before realizing that the other pony hadn't even moved, much less taken offense. If it weren't for Ditzy's blonde mane and tail and the slight rise and fall of her chest, Fluttershy would've thought the mailmare had been the victim of a cockatrice. The butter-coated pegasus took the initiative with all the eagerness of someone convinced that it would bite. "Um, Ditzy? Are you feeling alright?" Carefully maneuvering her load around the possibly petrified pony, she took a look at the other mare's face.

Much to the stare mistress's relief, the local muffin fiend had not been the victim of a chicken-headed ruffian. Instead, Ditzy bore a look of distant yet immense bliss, gazing off into two distances at one or more glorious presences that only she could see. Tears, presumably of joy, ran down her cheeks. She seemed as euphoric and unaware as a lotus-eater from Homare's Plodyssey.

"Ditzy?" Fluttershy next tried that most time-honored of experimental procedures, nudging something with a hoof. No reaction. "Ditzy!" To the gentle pegasus, this was a rather impressive shout. Anypony else would rate it as a whisper, perhaps a murmur if they were feeling generous. In any case, it elicited no response. "Theponywhodoesn'twantmuffinssayswhat?" Still nothing. "That always worked in flight school..."

Mentioning that time filled Fluttershy with new resolve. Before plummeting into a swarm of butterflies, she could count her true friends on one hoof: Ditzy Doo. They were the misfits, the outcasts, one with two left wings and the other with two left eyes. At first, it had been more an acquaintance of convenience, each desperately seeking somepony, anypony whose first reaction to them wasn't dismissal or mockery. But in time, the bond had grown, and by the day Fluttershy got her cutie mark, it had matured into a genuine friendship.

The Bearer of Kindness decided there and then that if she couldn't help one of her oldest friends, then she was unworthy of her Element. She unhitched the cart from herself and dug through the arrayed bags until she found a Jumbo-Lux container of smelling salts. Waving the aromatics under the grey pony's muzzle got far better, far more immediate results.

"Huh? Wuz hapnin'?" Not very coherent results, but better and more immediate.

"You've been standing there unresponsive for at least a few minutes." Fluttershy glanced at the position of the sun. "Depending on when you got here, you could have been out for as long as two hours."

"Whuh? 'Snot pos'ble. I was... Was..." Ditzy found herself at a loss for a counterargument. She switched tacks. "M' muffin..."

The gentle mare blinked, nonplussed by the non sequitur. "Um, I didn't see one. I suppose a hungry squirrel might have carried it away."

The mailmare shook her head, thoughts gradually clearing. "No. My other Muffin."

"Dinky? I haven't seen her today." Fluttershy gave a frightened gasp. "Has... has something bad happened to her?"

Another, fiercer head shake. "My other other Muffin. He's gone, isn't he?"

Fluttershy could do nothing but nuzzle her friend, which she did. "For a long time now, Ditzy. I'm sorry."

"Right." The bubble-flanked pegasus began blinking ferociously, but the dappled sunlight still caught on a tear or two. "Right, I knew that. Thank you."

"Are you going to be OK?"

The smile was small but genuine. "You know what? I really think that I am." Much to to the pink-maned pegasus's surprise, the other pony embraced with both forelegs and wings. "Thank you, Fluttershy."

"F-for what?"

"For being you."


Show of Kindness 2WU
Instant
Prevent all damage that would be dealt to target creature this turn. At the beginning of the next end step, gain control of that creature if damage equal to or greater than its toughness was prevented this way.
"You're not a bad dragon. You just made a bad decision"
—Fluttershy, Element of Kindness