//------------------------------// // 30. Gone and Good Riddance // Story: Imperatives // by Sharp Quill //------------------------------// ”And there’s a cost to that,” Discord grumbled. “You have to step outside reality, in a manner of speaking. Defeats the whole point of creating this realm, to interact with this world we’ve created.” “I do interact, Discord. Merely in a different fashion.” Meg got the distinct impression this was not a new argument between the two. Still, it got her thinking, back to when she had first been zapped by the Elements and found herself in a timeless… something. “Was I ‘outside reality’—in a manner of speaking or whatever—when you made me magical?” “Yes, Meg, you were.” “Was that necessary to actually give me magic?” “No, it was not. But it was necessary in order to observe you, to give you reality.” When the Zephyr arrived in Canterlot, Meg to her surprise saw Twilight waiting on the dock. Figuring it must be something important, she rushed over to the door and opened it. Twilight came inside. “Hi, Meg, Luna, Fluttershy.” Her eyes returned to Meg. “Serrell would like to talk to you about your ascension, and in particular how to reveal it to the world.” It was bound to happen sooner or later. Meg had sort of hoped it’d be later. “Like right now?” “No, but soon. Naturally only if you’d want to.” Did she? “I guess it depends on how that warehouse fiasco is going down?” “It’s looking promising, but it’s too early to say. By the way, Egor had mentioned your ’sacrifice’ and as a result Routledge seems to believe you’re gone and good riddance.” “Huh.” That was surely something to think about. “And that’s what motivated Serrell’s request, I’d imagine.” “Yeah. Certainly a part of it.” Twilight noticed the other two were still present. “We’ll have Captain Shooting Star return you to Ponyville, Fluttershy. And Luna, I know you’ll want to hold court, so Meg and I—” “Nay, Twilight. I wish to be involved in this conversation. I also wish to discuss with you Discord’s new theme park.” “I wouldn’t mind being a part of that too,” Fluttershy said. “About the theme park, that is.” “Then you shall be,” Luna declared. Twilight took a seat. “Then let’s start with that.” She addressed Luna, who was taking a seat herself. “Did you find Discordland safe and appropriate for ponies?” “My research is incomplete, unfortunately. The focus was on the hotel. That seems harmless enough, even sane enough if you avoid certain areas...” “Yeah,” Meg said, “some floors are definitely chaotic. One of the less chaotic floors had no gravity.” One of the more chaotic floors had furniture, floors, walls, and ceilings, all with attitude. They certainly talked back enough. “Indeed, Meg. But to be fair one must choose to visit those floors, and I am sure some ponies would. Every room we visited was equipped for humans, though Discord assured us each room can be adapted to the species of the occupant. Perhaps my biggest… concern… is that there are many confusing references to things we ponies do not understand. Granted, if that’s my biggest concern, then that says much.” “What Luna’s referring to,” Meg said, “was stuff like Star Trek transporters and Star Wars droids.” “What are those?” Fluttershy asked. “Precisely my point,” Luna said. “Unexpected, certainly, and unfamiliar, but that does provide a novelty factor, and not an unpleasant one.” “And if the rest of the theme park was like that?” Twilight asked. Luna tilted her head in thought. “A certain amount is fine, especially if sufficient context is provided, but there should be references to things familiar to ponies.” “Nor would humans object to that, certainly not bronies.” “I could talk to Discord and guide him in that direction.” Luna nodded at Fluttershy. “We would appreciate that.” “As for suitability for hosting a brony convention, it passes muster,” Meg said. “I’m not complaining about the absence of a casino—I guess he changed his mind? And there’s now a nice, big, multi-level garage underground. We can put the portal there and have attendees simply drive in. We just need to decide where the other end goes and set a date, and finalize the guests of honor.” She looked expectantly at Luna. “I’m leaning towards making an appearance. I shall talk it over with Celestia.” “Excellent,” Twilight declared. “I’ll have the captain take you home, Fluttershy, and the rest of us can continue our discussion in the palace.” “We’ll meet in the tea room.” Luna teleported away. Twilight gave Captain Shooting Star his instructions, and soon she and Meg were flying to the tower as the Zephyr lifted up and departed for Ponyville. Along the way, Meg wondered about Serrell’s request. Not so much about seeing him, but about how she would reveal herself to her world. Though, in a sense, she already had. She’d asked Andrew and company to keep it to themselves for now, but that didn’t mean they would do so for long. Once they were hovering outside the tea room, Twilight teleported them inside. How long before I can teleport? Few unicorns could do it, her husband not being one of them, so far, and it wasn’t just a matter of power—which for an alicorn should not be a problem anyway. No, the spell itself was complicated, and she as yet had not cast a single “real” spell. But that was a problem for Future Meg—who, judging from the one she’d met, certainly had no problem teleporting. The problem for Present Meg was… Luna wasn’t there. “Probably taking care of some business first,” Twilight speculated. “Sure. Makes sense.” Meg sighed. “So. Sounds like Serrell would like to rub my continued and alicornified existence in Routledge’s face. Can’t say I wouldn’t like that myself.” Twilight shrugged. “That’s what he wants to discuss with you.” Meg went to the mahogany table and sat on a cushion. “The devil is always in the details. I kinda messed up at the Senate Judiciary Committee hearing.” “Perhaps…” Twilight said, taking a seat herself. “But it did lead to the observers and the warehouse and, well, ascension.” “And breaking Tirek out of Tartarus led to your castle, rainbow powers, and finally to me becoming a magical pony. Funny how things always seem to work out.” “What always works out?” Luna had just teleported in. “Just chatting,” Meg said. “Anyway, I’ve decided to accept Serrell’s invitation to talk about my ascension. Now I just have to figure out what to do with being an alicorn—besides rubbing it in Routledge’s face, that is.” Luna joined them at the able. “Your realm is outside my area of expertise. It is hard for me to offer specific advice. Your president is much better qualified to do that.” “Obviously, he is,” Meg said, slumping. “I’m just so damn sick of having no control over my life.” Luna studied her. “What stops you from taking control?” “Uh… well, it… doesn’t work out when I try? Like at the Senate… Yes, Twilight, I know, it led to my ascension, but that feels like incredibly dumb luck.” “Maybe it’s not dumb luck,” Twilight said. “It sure wasn’t due to some genius plan of mine,” Meg grumbled. “Could it be your destiny?” “I dunno.” Meg sighed. “Twilight, you have to understand that in my world, amongst humans, ‘destiny’ is just a word. It has no existence of its own. It has no power to make things happen—well, except perhaps by giving confidence to those who claim it. Which, by the way, far from guarantees success.” Twilight smiled at her. “But this is Equestria, Meg. You have a cutie mark.” Meg looked down at her side. “Yeah.” Maybe dumb luck wasn’t always just dumb luck. But she couldn’t just depend on “destiny” to save her ass all the time. What happened at the warehouse? That wasn’t dumb luck or destiny, that was the impossibility of paradoxes. Sure, if I ignore how the paradox was circumvented. Regardless, there was no potential paradox over revealing—or not revealing—her alicorn self to humanity, so there was no help there. And speaking of paradoxes, or lack thereof… “Change of subject. Maybe it’s time for you to try being human.” Twilight blinked. “Now that you mention it… maybe it is time to close that time loop. I suppose I could do the isomorphic mapping spell right now—” “Don’t,” Meg warned. “Not until we have clothes ready. That spell won’t create clothing, even if it will preserve them while being a pony. We already went through this with Sunset Shimmer.” Twilight looked up in thought. “You’re right, and we need the clothes my future self was wearing.” “To avoid a paradox, right.” Meg slapped hoof to forehead, almost hitting her horn. “Too bad none of us took pictures.” “I did write notes afterwards, don’t forget. Rarity, then?” “No… they looked too off-the-shelf.” Meg tapped a hoof on the table. “Okay, here’s the plan. You and Sunset go to the Mirror Realm. Have her imagine a perfectly ordinary clothing store. Go pick out something suitable there for you. Sunset will see it, then she can go with Lori to an actual store to get the actual clothes.” Meg shook her head. “No, Sunset wasn’t there; she didn’t see the actual clothes Future Twilight was wearing, so she can’t pick out the exact same thing. I guess I have to go along too so I can expect the mirror store to have those items, the best that I can remember them anyway.” “Or, I can just go through the mirror expecting to be wearing what my future self was wearing.” “Yeah, that’d work too. And even if it’s not exactly the same or Sunset’s memory isn’t flawless, she’ll still pick out what we saw you wear, because it’d be a paradox if she didn’t. But a mirror store is still a good idea, so you can get the sizes of everything. Rarity can still come along, if you think she’d be interested.” Twilight smirked. “Do we have to ask?” “I, too, saw what your future self was wearing.” Meg had almost forgotten Luna was present. “I’m sure nopony would object to your assistance.” “I certainly do not,” Twilight said. Luna stood up. “Then I believe we are done here.” President Serrell was seated behind the Resolute Desk. He stood up upon noticing Meg’s arrival upon the Great Seal, the usual spot for arriving Equestrians. “You really are an alicorn now.” “Still getting use to it. So, how do you think we should handle this? I don’t have a great track record with Q and A, you know.” He came around the desk. “How about a taped statement, then? Nothing long, just basically announcing to the world that you’re still here and—do you know why you became an alicorn?” “Not really, no. I closed my eyes, clicked the mouse to cast the spell that created the anomaly, not having a clue how I would survive it, only knowing it’d be a paradox if I didn’t, and… a few seconds later I opened my eyes and found myself… in the same place Twilight went when she became an alicorn. It seems all about-to-be-alicorns wind up there. If I had to guess, I’d say I passed a test, same as Twilight.” He raised an eyebrow. “Celestia’s test?” Meg shook her head. “No, she was as surprised as I was. Still got tipped off somehow, as she showed up to sort of guide me through it—and by that I do not mean she triggered the ascension. I don’t know what the deal is with that.” “And you are not a princess.” “Nope, nor do I want to be.” The next question did not come immediately. “Are you immortal now?” Nor did Meg answer that immediately. “I have reason to believe so.” If Discord wasn’t messing with me. “We don’t want to mention that, not unless we want chaos that’ll make you-know-who’s day.” “Yeah. Human becomes ageless alicorn. News at eleven. Of course enough will figure it out anyway.” Twilight had already been asked about immortality. The last thing Meg needed was to be asked it herself—by the media, that is. Serrell went over to a sofa and sat down. “I could,” Meg said, “make that video as a human. I don’t look any different. Not mention the alicorn part at all.” He rubbed his chin in thought. “How likely is it that word will get out anyway?” Meg sighed. “Given time, guaranteed. Certainly no later than the SILICon convention. The senior staff already knows, but they say they’ll keep it to themselves for now.” “Then do it as an alicorn and get it out of the way. Emphasize that your ascension proves your worthiness.” Does it prove my worthiness? Did it even really matter? The point was, none of this was helping her regain control over her life. Next thing she knew they’d have a script for her to read. Not that she had any idea what to say in the absence of a script. One step at a time. “I’ll do a video, as an alicorn. I’m sure your people have ideas on what I should say and I’ll take it into consideration, but no promises. What I want out of this is a path back to a normal life. For some definition of ‘normal’—gotta be honest, I suppose. Certainly, to be able to walk around as my human self without people treating me like a traitor to humanity.” Meg wasn’t sure how Serrell would react to that little speech, but amusement wasn’t it. “You might find that preferable to being treated as a celebrity—which, like it or not, you are—but I’ll see what my people can come up with.” Sunset had been through the mirror first, establishing the simulated world. To Twilight’s surprise, the shopping mall she now found herself in was familiar. It was the one Meg had brought her to long ago, where she first saw a store that sold dolls of herself and her friends. It made sense. Meg must’ve brought Sunset here too. The place was busy. Countless humans were going about their business—real humans, not that Equestria Girls nonsense—and none of them were paying any particular attention to them. Of course not. They were just as human as everyone else. “Anyone have a mirror?” Rarity asked. She was looking at her attire the best she could. It was… elegant, Twilight decided. Sunset was outfitted the way she was the last time Twilight saw her take human form, unlikely a coincidence. Luna was plainly dressed. It all raised the question of how the mirror decided such things, to the extent it hadn’t been Sunset’s expectations. Rarity and Sunset were looking Twilight over, from top to bottom. Twilight looked down at herself and verified she was wearing the same clothes that she saw her future self wearing when she became a human. Luna focused more on the surroundings, taking it all in. Sunset pointed at the cutie mark on Twilight’s skirt. “That’s going to be a problem. Skirts aren’t that popular, and they certainly don’t come with cutie marks.” “I can take of that, darling.” Twilight waved it away. “You’ll find that skirt in a real store, Sunset, because no paradoxes.” And Rarity certainly could handle the rest. “I suppose so,” Sunset said. “We still need to find the rest of your clothing, including the undergarments, or at least the size you’ll need. This way.” She started walking. “Why do humans have to make it so complicated?” Twilight muttered and started walking herself. Rarity beamed. “I prefer to view it as a challenge.” She tried to start walking, but stumbled. “Oh dear, this will take some getting used to.” Twilight quickly returned and steadied her. “You’ll get the hang of it real fast. Just put one foot in front of the other.” Rarity did so, though it took a dozen steps or so before Twilight felt she could walk on her own. Luna was pacing them just fine. “You’ve been human before?” “I’ve been a minotaur and a dragon. It’s not that different.” Luna’s gaze drifted across the mall. “It is truly an impressive collection of stores.” Sunset had stopped in front of one particular store, gazing through the glass store front. Twilight recognized this one too, a “Build-A-Bear.” It was the one selling dolls of their cartoon counterparts, and apparently also some bear dolls. “Oh my! Is that supposed to be me?” “Sure is, Rarity.” Twilight walked down the row of dolls. “And there’s you, Luna, and…” She halted in front of an orchid-colored alicorn doll with a medium violet red mane and tail. “Sunset Shimmer, please tell me you didn’t expect this to be here.” Sunset cringed. “Maybe? I mean, think of all the money Meg could make if she licensed her likeness—” “We don’t make money off our likenesses!” Luna looked disapprovingly at her sister’s former student. “Surely you have attempted to correct that?” “It’s… complicated.” And with so much else going on, Twilight hadn’t had time to look in on the legal team that had been formed to represent their interests. Sunset shook her head. “That’s not why we’re here; you can talk about that later,” she said, and started walking. Twilight and Luna exchanged looks. Twilight shrugged. They both followed Sunset, with Rarity behind them. Sunset led them to an escalator, and they rode it up to the second floor and continued walking. “The size of this establishment is truly impressive,” Rarity said. “I’m told there are far larger malls elsewhere,” Twilight said. “I find it hard to imagine how that’s possible!” Eventually they reached the end. Before them was shop so large it would by itself rival most malls in Canterlot. “Everything we need we’ll find in here,” Sunset declared. They followed Sunset into Macy’s. “As you can see, the reports of my demise have been exaggerated.” Meg glanced up at her new appendage. “And as you can also see, I am no longer a pegasus.” She briefly flared her wings to emphasize she had not turned into a unicorn. “It turns out that preventing the Earth from being destroyed in mere seconds by a spell created by morons who had not a clue what they were messing with…” Meg slumped, staring at her phone secured in a stand. It wasn’t even recording. She had hoped that by going through the motions something would come to her. “Maybe I should let Serrell’s people write a script for me.” Sure, she could vent, but what about something constructive? A contemptuous snort. “Those hacks?” Meg groaned, placing hooves over her head. “Don’t you ever knock?” Discord opened his mouth, thought twice about it, then disappeared. There was a knock at the front door to the apartment. She rolled her eyes. “Come in!” The door opened—never mind that it was locked—and Discord walked in. “You had a point,” he admitted. “Never knocking had become too predictable.” Meg watched him walk over to the kitchen table where she was sitting. “Glad to be of service. Now is there a reason for this visit?” “At the risk of being too predictable, again, there does happen to be a reason for this visit.” “I forgive you for being excessively predictable.” Now it was Discord’s turn to roll his eyes, thankfully metaphorically. “It’s about the hotel. What’s the verdict?” “It gets a pass, but we need a way to make reservations. So unless you can create an internet presence…?” A slight grimace was the response. “Figured as much. We’ll handle that… somehow. But we do need a list of every room, with some indication of how chaotic it is so that attendees can choose what they’re comfortable with.” Discord scoffed. “A list. Do I look like the Princess of Lists?” Meg stared at him, half expecting him to take on Twilight’s likeness. He did not. “I’m afraid it’s a hard requirement. And if the demand is too high for either low or high chaotic rooms, it would help if you could make some adjustments—but we won’t know if that’s necessary until we open up reservations.” Discord grumbled. “I’ll get back to you on that.” “Thanks, we’d appreciate that.” Meg turned back to her phone. “I don’t suppose you have any suggestions about what I should say? You last advice… sort of worked out in my favor. I guess.” “I can get rid of that horn for you,” he said, then frowned. “Temporarily, anyway. I hate time loops.” “You and me both, but no—” For a second, she entertained the thought. Get rid of the horn then make the video. The world would see a pegasus, and she can put off dealing with her ascension. “No, the horn stays.” Like Serrell said, better to just get it over with. “So what’s the chaotic way of dealing with this?” Ponyville grew rapidly in the distance. On the flight over, Twilight considered Luna’s admonition. Yes, it was important to save the human world from that anomaly, but she was perfectly capable of multitasking. Sure she read the occasional status reports from her human legal team, but progress was glacially slow. Yearling was facing roadblocks of her own, she knew. At least, neither of them were paying those humans. Maybe that’s the problem. It’s not that they weren’t being paid, just not being paid by Equestrians. They had no means of exchanging bits for dollars—another issue still with no apparent resolution. Now if they could earn dollar-based income… but that exactly was the problem. Sugarcube Corner had become visible, barely. She knew exactly what to order to compensate for the long day. A blue streak caught her eye. It changed course, coming straight at her. Within seconds Rainbow Dash was flying beside her. “You look beat.” “Is it that obvious?” “Kinda?” Twilight sighed. “I’ve been shopping for clothes, human clothes… in a manner of speaking.” Rainbow looked at her with concern. “Why would you do that?” “Remember when I told everypony that we would all go back in time to prove to my past self that it’d be safe for me to go human? Safe for all of us Element Bearers, actually.” “Yeah, I guess.” Her destination was approaching. Twilight began her descent; Rainbow instinctively matched her. “I’ve decided it’s time to do that—but first I must acquire the clothes my future self was wearing.” “Wow. Sounds awful. Can’t you, like, have Rarity make them?” “She’ll help, of course, but she lacks the expertise to design human clothing.” “I thought she was donating her services to that charity auction Meg is organizing for her convention?” “Probably why she was so eager to tag along.” No doubt the fashionista would eventually bug Meg for samples to study, or even for copies of human fashion magazines—if she hadn’t already. They were seconds away from landing, putting conversation on hold. Once inside… “Meg?” The newest alicorn was sitting at a table, by herself, a shake in front of her and a phone levitating a few feet away. Meg looked away from her phone. “Hey, Twilight, Rainbow Dash. Stay back until I take this picture.” Meg returned her attention to her phone. She put mouth to straw, looking into the camera, and held that pose while adjusting the position of the phone, deciding on right of center. A faux camera shutter release noise was made, and the phone moved back to its owner. A quick inspection. “Okay, I’m done.” The two mares joined her at the table as Meg helped herself to the shake, another cinnamon and daisy swirl vanilla by the look of it. “Why the photo?” Twilight asked. “Proof that reports of my demise are premature,” Meg replied. “Discord’s idea, actually. Serrell wanted me to make a video, and I had trouble coming up with something to say, and he happened to stop by so I asked him what would be the chaotic way of dealing with this, and he said don’t say anything at all. Just offer up a picture, and let everyone go crazy with speculation.” Twilight had to admit it didn’t sound half bad. Even Rainbow seemed impressed by it. “You’ll still have to say something eventually.” “Oh, sure, but not until the time is right.” She shrugged. “Whenever that is. I’m certain others will have opinions on that. What about you? Been to the mirror realm yet?” “Just got back, actually. Sunset’s ready to go shopping.” Meg’s lips released the straw. “I’ll let Lori know.”