A Cavalcade of Cards

by QueenMoriarty

After the Pact

In the years since Nightmare Moon returned, life on Ungula had changed in hundreds upon thousands of ways. Politics had shifted, the nature of magic was questioned like never before, and nation-wide disasters became a bi-weekly occurrence, or felt like they did. And as the disasters evolved, so too did Equestria's response. What seemed at first glance to be the irrevocable destruction of one's livelihood would be back to normal within the week, and entire cities could find themselves rebuilt in the space of a few days.

It all proved very confusing for your average civilian. They no longer had any idea how to react to half of their town getting eaten by a thing with more arms than the Equestrian government, or any concept of how to anticipate how soon it would be until they had a road again. Luckily, a new indicator of the direness of any given situation was quick to evolve; the damage control team.

If the only emergency responder was an earth pony janitor with no tools, everything would be back to normal by the time you blinked. If they showed up with a toolbox, it might be worth having an extended lunch. An out-of-town janitor meant several hours, a team meant a day, and then it started getting interesting.

An appearance by the Royal Guard was a good indicator of if the disaster was considered a matter of interest by the crown. Rumors of the Night Guard told ponies that there was still some risk of further disaster. Princess Twilight and her entourage were wont to show up within seconds or minutes of anything serious, but usually were just as quick to disappear. If they stuck around, that meant the new crater was the equivalent of a footprint. If any of the other princesses showed up, it was probably a good idea to spend the rest of the day in the cellar. If they all showed up, there was a giant monster standing directly behind you and you were almost definitely going to die.

If Discord showed up, you would be best served by seeking out a professional necromancer, because odds were good that you were already dead.

---

"You're sure it came from this dimension?"

"To within one eighth of a percentile, yes." Fivepence of a Further Sixpence was not a happy camper. Mostly because of his ridiculous name and the fact that he had been a taxpony since he was eight years old, but also because he was having to stand next to Discord. One of Discord's very many rarely documented abilities was his power to create massive headaches in anypony who spent most of their time concerned with rules and regulations. The fact that Discord was currently rooting around in his head in order to briefly see the whole thing from a bit character's perspective wasn't helping.

"How very fascinating." Pulling out of the monocharacteristic skull and taking in the lay of the land, Discord had to fight down the urge to be impressed. Despite the nature of Canterlot as a hill city, the trail of destruction left by the thing was completely horizontal. The buildings that ran along the side of the foot-deep chasm seemed unsure if they were on the same horizontal plane, or occupying their usual place in space. Ponies were floating catatonic around the chasm, their eyes glazed over and their mouths spewing random cryptic nonsense.

"Subsection (1) applies with respect to a computer program only if, in the event that the research reveals a vulnerability or a security flaw in the program and the person intends to make the vulnerability or security flaw public..."

Now if only it wasn't random cryptic legal nonsense, Discord would have been able to solve the whole thing with a snap of his fingers.

"Who's the father?" he asked, taking a tentative step onto the paradoxical tract of land. When he didn't immediately grow a suit and start kidnapping the visually impaired, Discord grinned and began making confident strides. Behind him, Fivepence of a Further Sixpence was doing an excellent job of being too annoyed to realize he was now walking along earth that definitely shouldn't exist.

"I'm pretty sure nopony gave birth to this thing, Mister Discord."

"Of course they didn't, Fivepenny. It's a matter of terminology." Discord poked a levitated filly that was foaming at the mouth, and smiled as she did a few mid-air somersaults. "Calling the pony responsible an 'artificer' gives you the impression that the creature is some sort of silver golem or other mechanical contrivance, the term 'creator' is just a trigger phrase for god complexes, and all the other words just sound too fleshy for what we're dealing with or are too abstract in general. Ergo, who's the father?"

Everypony hated it when Discord's arguments made sense. It made it so much more difficult to disagree with him on general principle. "As far as we can tell, the three ponies responsible are Lateral Support, Reasonable Wear and Tear and Hornbook Law." Discord spat reflexively at each name. "According to the notes we found in the remains of their laboratory, they were trying to design a self-renewing business contract."

"Laboratory?" Discord asked. "Since when do lawyers use laboratories?" At this point, the creature's trail of destruction became wet and sticky.

"It's the standard legal term for the birthplace of any artificially created being. Not perfect, given the mental image of beakers and test tubes, but it gets the message across in courthouses."

"So does a pineapple cream pie," Discord rebutted. "You say this thing is a self-renewing contract?"

"Or the closest possible approximation thereof. Their notebooks seem to indicate that it was a normal contract, magically imbued with the ability to alter its own terms and enchanted against outside interference."

Discord had to stop dead in his tracks before he could let his mind be sufficiently boggled by that news. "What were they thinking? A contract you have to negotiate with to annotate would be a logistical nightmare that would plunge both companies into squalor!"

Fivepence of a Further Sixpence stared at the back of Discord's head in genuine confusion. "How in the name of Celestia do you know that?"

"Because I tried it once. Suffice to say, that was the last tea party Augustin IV ever invited me to." Discord allowed himself a little laugh at the memory, then snapped back to the present moment when he stepped in something legal. "But even that thing didn't cause this much chaos! What else did they do to that contract, and what do I have to do to buy it off them?"

"Some of the early drafts survived the contract's escape. If their clauses were any indication, the contract is capable of renewing itself whenever one of the current signatories dies, or becomes otherwise incapable of fulfilling the role that the contract designates for them. It would then freely alter its own terms to make sure the deal is just as good with the new signatories."

"But in which company's favor?" Discord popped the rhetorical question, feeling quite proud of himself even as an alligator in triplicate lunged at him.

"Exactly. A paradoxical contract is never a good thing, and with the sheer amount of magic they had poured into every word..." Fivepence of a Further Sixpence shivered. "We're just lucky it drove everyone so crazy that it ran out of signatories. Now we just need you to dispose... of... the body..."

Discord turned to the taxpony and grinned. Regardless of the cause, he always loved seeing mortals rendered speechless. Then he turned back to what was supposedly the corpse of the contract, and grinned even wider.

The physics-defying trail of destruction ended in a massive black swamp, darker than the deepest heart of the Hollow Shades but even slimier than that. It hung in the middle of the air, in defiance of physics, logic and just plain old good taste. Had it not been steeped in murderous intent, Discord might almost have admired the thing.

Instead, he cracked his knuckles, hooked his fingers around reality, and shuffled the deck.

The swamp disappeared. The tear in the earth healed. The sanity and gravity of everypony was restored.

And then Discord remembered where they were all standing, and had to cancel gravity in a hurry.

Author's Note:

What exactly are the logistics behind reprinting this kind of thing in Conspiracy? And I don't mean in terms of mechanics, I mean in terms of flavor. How does a zombie mutant pit-fighter figure into a world of complex political intrigue?

This is one attempt to answer that question.

Comments

[FanOfMostEverything]

Not every Conspiracy card is on Fiora. Heck, the art for Rout makes it clear that it's on New Phyrexia.

Still, very amusing spin on the subject, even if a few sentences in the introductory exposition seem nonsensical even by Discord's standards.

[QueenMoriarty]

7629658 That's the fun part: Even the prose is a twisted abomination.

[Malandy]

Nice answer to that question!

Nice opening, and a reasonable Discord is always interesting!

So, the contract needs to keep renewing itself, and that's either by death or incapacitation of a signatory! That's why it's murderous!

[AnObliviousAuthor]

I believe the mark of a good crossover author is when their stories make sense (as much as is possible when Discord is involved) and are entertaining regardless of what a person knows of the crossed-over worlds.
You are an excellent example of this.

[Brickman]

It was worth reading that just for your explanation in the author-blurb of why you made it a legal contract.

[PresentPerfect]

What in the heck. XD That was a trip.