7031075
Honestly? Because I flat out can't imagine a character saying "are you" without the underlying question in the tone.

"You're not coming." Is a statement.

"You're not coming, are you?" Is a question.

"You're not coming, are you." Makes my brain come to a screeching halt while reading and forces me to process until I just give up and add in the question mark.

Take "are you" on its own. I can't think of a single sentence these two words are used in such a way that isn't a question. It triggers a response in the brain of English Speakers to expect a question mark. Now, "you are" is different.

If we replaced "are you" with something else, like "huh," we have the same problem. "You're not coming, huh." Even with 'are you' gone and 'huh' not explicitly being a question word, "You're not coming, huh." is still immensely clunky and, while it won't break my immersion bad as "are you." it's still a mess.

Now, that said, the author does have the right to change it back. If you really think it's necessary to do that, go ahead, I'll put it in against the roaring monster of writing convention that has taken hold in my brain. But I don't think it's getting the point across you want to get it across, and if I were editing it I would say it wasn't just a 'strange choice,' but that it was wrong.

"You're not coming." suggests the non-question of a powerful statement. Instead of asking an unknown question, it is a statement born out of knowledge and understanding. Because this is a sentence that can be done both ways: "You're not coming?" and "You're not coming." mean two very different things without forcing the reader to pause and possibly (like I did) fall off the train of thought.

And don't mind, you're not coming across as snippy (unless you count the way of writing a SNIP ). If anything I should be worried my little rant about proper flow and convention would sound snippy to you.

EDIT: HOLY THIS WAS A LOT LONGER THAN I THOUGHT IT WAS.

I guess I really care about getting things right... geez... Uh, it doesn't actually matter as much as the above paragraphs make it out to be. Okay? Okay.

-GM, master of rain.

7031213

You've honestly never encountered the non-question before? It's not uncommon in media.

• "You're not coming." A declaration with intent of command. You aren't coming because I say so. Or at least because somebody says so. There's no personal touch. No sense that the speaker actually cares about the spoken. Too firm.
• "You're not coming, are you?" The question mark makes this uncertain, asks for an explanation because the speaker doesn't get it, and provides the questioned a chance to say No I Am, But. It's too... hopeful, for lack of a better term.
• "You're not coming, are you." There is no uncertainty, but by transferring control of the event to the one spoken to, the speaker acknowledges the decision made belongs to the addressed alone, and thereby implies an understanding of why the decision was made.

And just for the road:

• "You're not coming, are you..." That is a slow realization that no, they're not coming, despite the speaker previously thinking they would. A draining of hope to resignation. Far too sad for what I'm trying to convey.
• "You're not coming, are you!" Indignation. Or excitement. This presents energy to the statement that would be way out of place for this sort of conversation, which is very much a 'we hope this isn't a final goodbye but we know it might be' situation.

"Rules were made so that you think before you break them." It may seem grammatically unsound, but that's because we're used to sentence fragments being used to end questions. I don't think there's really any rule against it, but even if there is, sometimes a little bending here and there communicates the underlying emotion of the statement more genuinely then saying "she said somberly" over and over.

7031228
Oh no, I've come across it before, I just don't think it's proper. Even the flat "What." looks wrong to me, even when I use it.

I still think it's wrong, but it's your work, I'll add it back in.

For the record, to convey all those emotions you were suggesting, I would to the following:

"You're not coming, are you." There is no uncertainty, but by transferring control of the event to the one spoken to, the speaker acknowledges the decision made belongs to the addressed alone, and thereby implies an understanding of why the decision was made.

I would use "You're not coming" compounded with a description of a facial expression or a proper dialogue tag. i.e. 'With a resigned expression, X fixed her other in the eye. "You're not coming."' The context determines if "You're not coming." is a command or an observation.

"You're not coming, are you..." That is a slow realization that no, they're not coming, despite the speaker previously thinking they would. A draining of hope to resignation. Far too sad for what I'm trying to convey.

For this, I would use the "...You're not coming." Perhaps with an ellipsis on both ends. There's also another way, "You're not coming, are you...?" With the trailing question mark that adds a bit of hope to the end. Though the debate on if the trailing question mark is proper or not is... FUN.

"You're not coming, are you!" Indignation. Or excitement. This presents energy to the statement that would be way out of place for this sort of conversation, which is very much a 'we hope this isn't a final goodbye but we know it might be' situation.

"You're not coming, are you!?" With the 'interrobang' does the indignation and excitement just fine. In fact, it's not even a question, even though it's phrased or asked as one: it's rhetorical. Yet, rhetorical questions are still signaled by '?'

Also of note, the fact that this argument can even be had is good evidence that writing is definitely an art form, not a science.

-GM, master of oreos.

And now for something completely different. As promised, a reunion shortly after the latest LSB chapter:

Aside of Bacon

Shimmy didn't really have an office, per se. Technically speaking, she wasn't even employed, at least not in the sense of collecting wages. She certainly didn't want to get involved in multiversal politics; that was no place for a spirit of Harmony. (Okay, Cosmo Sparkle put the lie to that; it was no place for this spirit of Harmony, because she said so.) She'd called herself the ultimate trophy wife more than once, to Egghead Sparkle's great displeasure. Still, only one of them had become the R&D head of a multibillion-dollar magitech company after Fancy Pants stepped down, and it wasn't Shimmy.

What Shimmy did have was the penthouse apartment atop the Fancy Industries headquarters, which she had to admit was a step up from the abandoned warehouse in the bad part of Canterlot she'd called home for her first years on Earth Shimmer. (That was now a church, because Shimmerists were more tenacious than kudzu and spread about as qucikly.) The palatial suite also acted as a great spot for her work as a pro bono consultant for Fancy, though at this point, Egghead's understanding of the finer points of thaumology met or exceeded her own in many disciplines.

"What do you mean you didn't get everything back!?" cried Egghead.

Then there was the entirely different magic of defusing a subcritical Twilight Sparkle without collateral damage or hour-long lectures, where Shimmy had her wife beat several times over. "Relax. Some thaums just got spread across the sum totality of Sunsets. And I left a mark on the Mad universe. No big deal."

That didn't stop Egghead from pacing in front of a sofa that cost more than all of her furniture in that warehouse (Neither of them had wanted something that expensive, but it had been an wedding present from Rarity.) "But someone could—"

"It's fine, really. I've nearly finished regenerating everything Silvertongue took from me that I didn't get back immediately."

The good news was that stopped Egghead's pacing. The bad news was it didn't calm her down even slightly. "Nearly? It's been months! What if this is a starfish situation and the lost magic grows a whole other you?"

Shimmy shook her head. "It's just magic. There's no mind or soul for it to grow around. It can't do anything on its own."

Egghead twitched. "Based on my admittedly limited studies of ka, I suspect you just doomed someone. Possibly us."

"Relax, Egghead."

"I'm still not comfortable with that nickname."

Shimmy smirked and embraced her Twilight. "Well, I'm the Divine Bacon Horse. You're my wife. You can follow the logic from there."

"That doesn't mean I have to like it." Egghead leaned into the hug regardless.

A ringing phone ruined the moment, though Shimmy didn't let go of Egghead even as she telekinesed it to her ear. "Shimmy Shimmer."

"This is Captain Suzie Mash. Did you notice any missing magic after the Silvertongue Incident?"

Shimmy sighed. She didn't even need to look to know Egghead was giving her an "I told you so" glare. "You know, it's funny you should mention that..."

A portal opened, depositing the alicorn in the park. The spirit of Harmony teleported to her a moment later.

Pathos considered Shimmy.

Shimmy considered Pathos.

"You know, I never did get a chance to appreciate having feathered wings." In a flash, Shimmy became a duplicate of Pathos and fluttered her wings experimentally. "I mean, myriad forms and all, but I usually stick with the human." She returned to that shape.

Pathos said nothing for a few moments. "I am... unsure how to feel about meeting you."

Shimmy nodded and began walking to a tree atop a small hill, making sure to cover them in an SEP field. Pathos didn't need any unwanted interruptions. "I know how you feel."

"Yes. You do."

"... Right." Shimmy shook her head with a grin as she sat. "You know, I'm technically one of the least empathic Sunsets out there, at least in terms of psychic power? Turned down the geode and everything. I guess it's just baked in. But yeah, seeing what's essentially me as an alicorn... Well, I don't get out much in a multiversal sense; the closest I usually see is Corona. It's weird to see an old dream in the flesh."

After a moment of hesitation, Pathos sat next to her. "It is rather stranger for me. I had encountered few humans before now, and the unique properties of this world make it feel like the first time all over again. Research is one thing, but seeing it for myself..." She trailed off and looked up, watching several pegasus aspects soar overhead on wings of light.

Shimmy followed her gaze and smiled. "Yeah, tourism's boomed since we fully joined the Merodi. Come for the unusual magic, stay for what we can do with it. I've heard some people say the food's almost on par with Earth Ottoman."

Pathos gave a noncommittal whicker. "Then there is the matter of my own identity. I... do not know what it means to be a Sunset Shimmer. Sometimes it seems that strangers know me better than I know myself, or at least claim to."

"From what I've heard, that's common for most people who happen to be well-known characters. Be glad we're well-respected. Ditzwalker could tell you stories about being judged based on her counterparts."

"And then there is how you are like Titan, and yet so different from him." Pathos spread her forelegs to encompass the scene before them. "You rose from insignificance to take on the mantle of the mare he slew. You govern this universe, yet share the burden with many others. Mortals revere you against your will. You rule without ruling. He would find you abhorrent on every conceivable level."

"Well, based on what I've heard, the feeling's mutual. While I'm glad he created you, I'm also glad most Equestrias don't have to deal with him." Shimmy held her hand out towards Pathos. After a nod, she ran her fingers through the pony's mane. "You still seem tense."

Pathos winced. An ear scratch didn't relieve nearly as much tension as it usually did. "I thought you were one of the least empathic Sunsets."

"You demonstrate how that isn't saying much. Still working through everything?"

"That, and..." Pathos shivered. "I can feel my magic resonate with yours. Weak as I am, you could consume me and I would not be able to resist for a moment."

"Good thing I'd never do that. I'm not about to kill someone else just because they used to be a part of me. That would be like..." Shimmy's hand came to a stop as the thought struck her. "Hmm."

"What?"

Shimmy grinned and got out her phone. Once the call connected she said, "Hey Egghead, guess what? We have a daughter now!"

"Technically speaking, I am not your daughter."

"And we're skipping straight to the moody teenage years! She just said I'm not her real mom!"

A shaky smile made its way across Pathos's muzzle. "You are a strange one, Shimmy Shimmmer."

Shimmy covered her phone and smiled back. "This is the multiverse, Pathos. You have to sacrifice a little sanity if you want to maintain the rest of it." She took her hand off the microphone. "No, no, this is nothing like the Gamma Project! Let me know when you're free; you'll love her."

(Credit for part of the ending goes to Crack-Fic Kai. Credit for Gamma goes to Crydius. Friends don't let friends drink and science.)

7031946
This will go in Enchorus.
...Eventually.

I'm kinda panicked for time atm but I love it!

-GM, master of TIE IN ALL THE COMMENTS.

7031966
Hey, whenever you've got a moment. Goodness knows I can empathize with time crunches.

Been plugging away at this off and on for some time. Do let me know what compatibility issues it may have.

Happier Times: How Much for Just the Empire?

Renee was a busy mare, as was to be expected for the Overhead of Expeditions. She had teams to coordinate, reports to forward, and a husband who she tried to connect with outside of work hours at least once a month. Thus, the nervously smiling alicorn at her desk was the last thing she needed.

"Darling, with all due respect, this is the last thing I need."

Pinkie giggled as her Party walked by, for reasons best left unconsidered.

"I know," said Evening, "but you’ve always been one of our best negotiators when it comes to the Carousel. Besides, they specifically requested you when I pressed for a response, and they're being obstinate on this one, even for them."

Renee sighed. Ah, the Infinite Carousel. There but for the grace of her friends went she. A lot of she. Easily the most infamous equine self-society known to Merodi Universalis, preaching the "generosity of big business" and flouting Merodi laws on multiversal trade with mass quantities of all-too-familiar coquettish charm. "I don't suppose we've ever pinned down where they came from narratively? Just so I know whose works to boycott?"

That set off Pinkie again. Really, was the mare just wandering in circles?

Eve shrugged her wings. "It's awfully nebulous. But this is a major incident, and we need answers from them, no matter—“

"Darling, don't even think 'no matter the cost' when dealing with the Carousel." Renee sighed and got to her hooves. "Still, may as well look into this. Goodness knows we can't have you trying to work with them; they'll have you selling your own horn within the hour."

"That only happened once," Eve muttered.

Renee patted her on the withers. "Twice too many by my taste. With which Rarity shall I be meeting?"

"Photuris."

"Oh." A lady did not let her jaw drop, so clearly Renee did no such thing. After recovering from not doing so, she said, "My heavens, this is important, isn't it?"

Seeing Photuris didn’t mean going to the Prime Carousel, a space station shaped like its namesake that served as the Infinite Carousel’s primary business hub. It meant visiting the world where the business began. And the Ponyville of Equis Carousel was...

Well, in all honesty, it was a dream for Renee. The small-town charm of her own pre-Merodi Ponyville blended with the cosmopolitan flair she'd admired in larger cities, all arranged according to her own aesthetic sensibilities. It was, both figuratively and literally, Ponyville by Rarity^®.

As a pair of burly security stallions escorted her into a version of the Boutique that towered like a cathedral to fashion, she couldn't help but reflect on the problem with that. After all, one had to wake up from a dream at some point. Otherwise one was in a coma.

The Rarity awaiting her had chosen to age with maximum grace, her mane and tail a delicate interplay of violet and silver, her half-moon spectacles meant to accessorize more than correct her vision. She lounged like an empress, missing only the slaves fanning her and feeding her peeled grapes. And given that she was the CEO emerita of the Infinite Carousel, who had allegedly named herself after the company's mysterious founder, it was certainly an apt comparison.

She smiled and sat up in her chaise. "Renee, darling. So wonderful of you to make room in your busy schedule for little old me."

Renee gave her a flat look. "Don't darling me, Photuris. We both know I'm not here for empty pleasantries."

"Oh, just a bit of empty pleasantry?" Photuris turned onto her belly, chin in her hooves and kicking her hind legs like a filly at a slumber party. "How is Daniel? Allure? Minna? Come now, surely you have time for a little gossip."

Renee glared at her in a way that made her feel uncomfortably like her mother shutting down one of those slumber parties. "Even if I wanted to, I really don't. Strictly speaking, this isn't even my department; you just refuse to speak with anyone in Relations, including the Rarities."

Photuris waved it off. "They're late acquisitions, Renee, and all so small-minded. They haven't seen the things we've seen. Yes, most bore Generosity and stopped a villain or two, but their minds can't fathom the sorts of decisions we make on a daily basis."

"'Make'?" said Renee, arching an eyebrow.

"Made, in my case. Most days. I do try to keep active in my retirement."

"That actually brings us to the point of this meeting quite nicely." Despite herself, Renee sat on the serviceable but much less exquisite couch opposite the physically older mare. She highly doubted Photuris would cooperate immediately; best to get comfortable as she asked the burning question. "What precisely happened to a good ninety percent of the Ferengi population of Galaxa Quadrants?"

Photuris fluttered her lashes in feigned innocence. "Why would we know anything about them?"

"According to the missive from the current Grand Nagus, prior to the disappearance, his predecessor met with, and I quote," Renee floated out the appropriate data pad and her reading glasses from her saddlebags and read, "'a bunch of pallid, outrageously clothed females even more hideous than most humans.'" She let the quotation hang in the air for a moment before adding, "Having refreshed myself on Ferengi beauty standards, that's arguably a compliment."

"One could certainly say that, yes." Photuris turned so she was laying on her back again, thoughtfully staring up at the ceiling. "How much else do you know about the Ferengi?"

Up went the eyebrow again, but Renee saw no harm in playing along. "Almost religiously capitalistic. Even with such prevalent matter replication technology that many societies are post-scarcity, they make use of a material that can't be replicated just so they have a usable monetary standard. Granted, the Federation is rather idealistic in that regard, but there's such a thing as overcompensation. Bizarrely misogynistic as well; based on my admittedly brief research, they only recently realized that letting their women handle money means they can double their customer base."

Photuris nodded. "Largely accurate. And you've come close to the main point. From the perspective of Galaxa Quadrants, the Ferengi are an obsessive relic of a society. But from a narrative perspective..."

"The Ferengi," declared the Grand Nagus, "are a joke."

“Oh?” Photuris said politely, lounging opposite him in one of the many, many opulent rooms of the Nagal Residence. “In what sense?"

"We're a caricature,” continued the wrinkled old creature, massive ears all but whooshing with his angry motions. “A parable. A mockery of a society, made to hold up as a model of what not to do for wide-eyed little humans."

"You've seen Star Trek."

"Yes,” snarled the Nagus. “Human-made or not, the fact that it focuses on the Federation is enough to make me spit. I would give two, no, three hundred bars of gold-pressed latinum for the chance to punch Gene Roddenberry in his smug, misshapen face."

Photuris smiled, and because some habits never died, said, ”That could actually be arranged, albeit for a somewhat steeper fee."

He waved off the offer. “Another time, perhaps. I did not call you here merely to rail at the circumstances that brought my people into being. I want to make the Ferengi more than mere symbols of human folly."

"And how do you intend to do that?"

"We will leave this universe, seek one better suited to what truly matters in life."

She smiled knowingly. “Profit?"

"Precisely! But building dimensional drives sufficient for an interstellar civilization isn't cheap, and no one is willing to invest without a destination already in mind.” The Nagus rolled his eyes. “I can't imagine the Merodi will be willing to help us.” He slammed his fist against a side table that could purchase a small moon. "Their very existence is in direct contravention of the twenty-first Rule of Acquisition!"

"Oh?"

"Never place friendship above profit."

"I see.” Photuris narrowed her eyes. “And yet you sought out the Infinite Carousel, where we believe friendship is profit. And is there not a Rule of Acquisition that states 'females and finances don't mix'?"

"The ninety-fourth, and one that time has shown to apply far less now than in the time of Gint. But it is the ninety-fifth that concerns me: Expand or die. And we are approaching market saturation in our galaxy. There may be untapped markets in the Delta Quadrant, but there is definitely death. If my people are to thrive, they have to look outside our reality, and we have to do that under the Merodi's nose.” The Grand Nagus snarled, displaying a snaggled set of teeth as unique as a human’s fingerprints. “It took ten thousand years to forge the Ferengi Alliance, and I will not see us reduced to a disparate bunch of isolated wandering merchants.“

Photuris nodded. ”I understand completely. Officially, I can't help you too much, but I do know of a species that will welcome you with open arms."

He grinned, which wasn’t much better than the snarl. “Excellent! Where can we find them?"

She waved a hoof. “Ah ah ah. We both know nothing comes for free."

The grin took on an even more predatory cast. "Very true. Let's bargain."

"So we were able to come to a reasonable deal, though I suppose some part of the Ferengi disagreed with the plan. You have to understand, I merely initiated the proceedings; others took care of the fine details.“

“I’m sure,” Renee said flatly. “So what did you do with them?"

"Hmm…” Photuris gave her an appraising look that went down to fractions of a cent. “As much as I'd like to negotiate for that information, you have far too many Pinkies at your disposal for me to think you couldn't find it out yourself. I introduced the Grand Nagus to the Melnorme, and they took matters from there. The Nagus was overjoyed; he didn't have to spend a drop of latinum on dimensional drives."

Renee’s jaw worked silently for a few moments. “You... You sold an entire species to the Melnorme?"

Photuris flinched back as though struck. ”Sold? Heavens, no! The Infinite Carousel may have a hoof in many businesses, but we do not engage in sapient trafficking. As I said, I merely introduced the two. The Grand Nagus was the one who indentured his people to, and I quote, 'the true masters of acquisition.’”

"And I'm sure you got nothing out of bringing the Melnorme an entire race of unpaid interns,” Renee said with a heavy sigh.

“Weeeell…” Photuris smiled like Allure had when she’d been trying to be coy as a filly. “A small finder's fee may have been involved."

"On top of whatever the Ferengi paid you to 'make introductions.'"

"Naturally."

Renee took a deep breath as she got out of her seat. “You horrify me, you know that?"

And Photuris just smiled. “I do, and I pity you. Ta."

“Head of Expeditions”

title is Overhead, though if you de-capitalize Head it’d be fine.
Daniel is Renee’s Second, they see each other regularly, though time outside work is hard to come by.

“you just refuse to speak with anyone in Relations, including the Rarities."
"They're late acquisitions, Renee, and all so small-minded.”

Celia: I’m ANCIENT you little…

“"What precisely happened to a good ninety percent of the Ferengi population of Galaxa Quadrants?”

Them: wasn’t us.

"The Ferengi," declared the Grand Nagus, "are a joke."

…Yesssssss

Their very existence is in direct contravention of the twenty-first Rule of Acquisition!"

I appreciate the reference to the rules. Also, missing opening quote.

Renee’s jaw worked silently for a few moments. “You... You sold an entire species to the Melnorme?"

I appreciate this. This makes so much sense. This is terrifying. Bravo, I love this.

I don't know how you guys are structuring Happier Times, so I'll wait to post the stories on Enchorus until I get some indication what you guys want to do.

7104655
I have minor editing nitpicks, and would also appreciate if you could post that you've been working on this to the Fan Flood thread.
7104671
Personally, I was thinking the finished pieces should all be published close together, but it hasn't actually been discussed. We have a loose target date for completing stories and that's it. I considered the idea of publishing them as a separate volume, but I think just annotating them as being part of the Happier Times Fan Flood in the Author's Note is good enough.

This isn't the snip I meant to write, but it is the one that came out.

Happier Times: Quantum Foam

Sunset's Isekai was perhaps the best known bar in the Equis Cluster, but it was far from the only one. Celestia City was full of far more consistently located watering holes, from holes in the wall that people six blocks away had never heard of to tremendous multi-level unending raves where the drinks glowed even brighter than the plastic jewelry, much less the actual lighting. There were cocktail lounges, mead halls, breweries, and even an enormous walk-in Sirius Cybernetics Corporation Nutrimatic Drinks Dispenser from Galaxa Sandwich that had gone insane enough to serve more than one kind of beverage.

Merlot's was fairly average for a Celestia City bar, inasmuch as that meant anything. Not too big, not too small, not too crazy, not too plain. It had a lot of dark-stained wood, diverse beer and wine lists, a rack of stemmed glasses hanging over the bar, and a raspberry-skinned woman tending said bar. Merlot, like most Berry Punches, was very good at her job, and had plenty of experience running an establishment on Celestia City besides.

As such, she barely even blinked when three of the same person came in as a group. All three had grey plumage, blonde hair, and eyes that collectively pointed in half a dozen different directions. Two were pegasi, while the third was a human, though the silver bow of light coming from her neck that winked out as she walked in the door marked her as an Earth Shimmer native. Merlot, upon seeing all of this, bowed to the laws of comedy.

In short, three Derpies walked into a bar and the bartender said, "What is this, some kind of joke?"

All three rolled their eyes (which was truly impressive coming from them) and deadpanned "Ha ha" in eerie synchronicity. That got them to glare at each other, prompting a grunt and two equine snorts.

"In all seriousness, ladies, what'll it be?" It was still fairly early in the day, so Merlot was happy for the distraction.

"Something red and dry, please. Fiorano if you have it," said one of the pegasi, completely disregarding the wine list. To be fair, so did a good half of the clientele.

"Same," said the other pegasus, making her counterpart give her a flat look. "Hey, it's not my fault Fiora has the best vineyards in our corner of the multiverse." This one was actually wearing something, a petryal like an Equestrian princess, though this one was inscribed with an interlocked sun and moon circumscribed by a circle divided into ten equal parts. Each section had its own symbol, none of which Merlot recognized. She also hadn't ever heard of Fiora, but she could make do there.

The human took a little longer, examining the taps. She was dressed, of course, in a suit coordinated around her own coloration: grey jacket and slacks, yellow tie. Her face lit up when she reached one of the more... exotic beers. "Pint of Shoggoth's Old Peculiar for me."

Merlot started reaching for glasses, but hesitated as the order penetrated years of ingrained habit. "There's a two-pint limit on that for most species, miss."

The human Derpy rolled her eyes again and pulled out her wallet, showing her ID and tapping a symbol on it. It wasn't exactly an unspeakable sigil, but one would hesitate to mention it in polite company.

"Five pints then. Sorry, miss, can't be too careful with the eldritch stuff."

"No problem," the human said in the sort of resigned tone that came from having to show that part of her ID on a frequent basis.

The Derpies gravitated to a booth with U-shaped seating around a round table. The moment the human got settled in, the adorned pegasus broached the subject that had brought them together in the first place:

"How come you get to be Ditzwalker?"

Ditzwalker "Ditzy" Doo sighed and adjusted her tie. "Because I'm the one who registered it first."

"But where does that leave us? You know, the actual planeswalkers?"

Ditzwalker gave her a flat look. "Are you seriously going to gatekeep planeswalking?"

"Well, she is from Ravnica," the other pegasus said with a smirk.

"Hey, I thought you'd be on my side! You're as much a Ditzwalker as I am. And more so than her." The adorned pegasus jabbed a wing at Ditzwalker.

The human raised an eyebrow. "I'm a living TSAB dimensional drive by way of Yog-Sothoth. You two can only transition to or from one specific kind of D-Sphere universe. I'm more interdimensionally versatile than either of you."

"You'd still get torn apart by the Blind Eternities."

"And you need a dimensional device if the plane you're in doesn't have a connection to them!"

"Hey!" Bluish energy pushed the two apart. The bare pegasus glared at both of her counterparts at once. "Come on, you two, we're all Ditzies here."

"Yes, that's the problem," the other pegasus said, ruffling her wings. "We all fit the bill for that name, none of us want a moniker even resembling 'Derpy Hooves,' and Little Miss Paper Pusher here refuses to share."

"Okay, first of all, you're as much of a bureaucrat as I am, if not more so. Secondly, how would I share? What, are you going to add numbers at the end? Be 'Ditzwalker-3'? Or do we use different epithets because we all share a planeswalker type?"

"Don't you drag that stupid card game into this."

Ditzwalker smirked. "You're just mad because I can beat you at it."

The adorned Ditzy flared out her wings and half-shouted, "It's oversimplified and abstracted to the point where it's nothing like an actual planeswalker duel!"

A whistle made both look to the third Ditzy. "Hey! Children!"

"What!?" they both yelled.

More blue energy moved a wineglass and a mug of vaguely greenish beer where appropriate. "For one, our drinks arrived a good three minutes ago."

The pegasus sat back down. The human just looked down at the table. "Oh," said both.

"For another, why does it matter, Tenbubble?"

"'Tenbubble'?" said Tenbubble.

"You are from Ravnica. Working in the Guildpact office. Trying to be a voice for Dominia Cluster concerns in the Merodi." The last un-nicknamed Ditzy shrugged her wings. "Seems suitable to me."

Tenbubble looked into her wine for a few moments. "Look, neither of you fought in the War of the Spark." She pointed at each in turn. "You never heard the call and you treated it as a way to pass a dull Friday night."

"Hey, no one on Ungula heard about it until after the fact," said the other pegasus. "Bolas was afraid enough of Pinkie Pie to exclude the entire plane."

"And you can't blame me for Warlocks on the Mount making a Revengers arc." Ditzwalker blinked. "You know, you say that out loud knowing the usual names and you realize just how stupid it sounds."

"Hey!"

All three turned to the next booth, where a fourth Derpy Hooves was nursing a glass of ginger ale. This one was also a pegasus, though she wore a glowstick taped to a cardboard tube on her head. "Uh, I mean..." The glowstick lit up like a unicorn horn, and a mechanical pencil flew towards an open notebook on her table.

A minor counterspell cut off the telekinesis, making the pencil's momentum keep it going until it hit the other side of the booth and rolled under the table. "So," Tenbubble said as she flapped over the divider and slid into the booth. "Fan of Most Everything, I assume."

"Uh..." The completely mysterious and unfamiliar pegasus said in a totally believable—

"Oh, give it a rest," said a trenchcoat-clad Pinkie in the next booth over. "You're made. Own it."

I sighed. "Alright, yes, I'm your Prophet. To a degree. It's all metaphysical and quantum."

That didn't stop all three from crowding into the booth. Darn it, I'd picked this place for some privacy. No one thinks to look for a teetotaler in a bar. "Don't suppose you could settle this little feud?" said Ditzwalker.

"And maybe cut down on dimensionally transcendent bubblemares in the future?" added the Ditzy with no name.

I shrugged my wings. "What can I say? You're Best Pony. And Best Human. I've had a soft spot for you ever since I first saw you. And I wanted to make a respectable version of you, one who wasn't just the Doctor's companion or sympathy bait." I nodded to the bare pegasus. "So, I did a crossover." To Tenbubble. "And then an AU of that crossover." To Ditzwalker. "And later I incorporated aspects of that world into a different AU."

None of them seemed especially flattered. Or remotely happy. "Look, I intended it as a compliment."

"We still have to deal with the reputation of the majority," said Tenbubble.

Ditzwalker shrugged. "To be fair, we can be accident-prone ourselves." A picture on the wall behind her fell and nearly shattered before telekinesis spells from every other creature in the booth caught it.

"You ran the entire Implicit Maze by accident," added the odd Ditzy out.

Tenbubble rolled her eyes. "That wasn't an accident, that was Discord. And him. Her?" She shook her head and glared at me. "You. You overcrowded the niche, and now only one of us gets the name we all deserve."

"And it's the one of us who thought ahead and filed the paperwork. So nyeh." I feel I should note that Ditzwalker was a mother well into adulthood. That didn't stop her from sticking out her tongue at her counterpart.

"Is Tenbubble really so bad?" I asked.

"No, but it's the principle of the thing. Right, girls?"

The third Ditzy wingshrugged. "At this point, I'm just annoyed that you care so much. You're almost as bad as the Derpy Anti-Defamation League."

"Hey!"

"Okay, maybe not that bad, but you're still taking this way too seriously. I haven't even picked out a name for the wider multiverse."

"Manadoo," I suggested.

Manadoo smiled. "Ooh, I like that."

"But... but..." Tenbubble looked for support, face falling.

I couldn't help but feel for her. "Look, I am sorry for leaning on a signature character-archetype combination so much that it led to this. How about a toast, and then you can all razz me for stupid stuff I've done."

"Like My Little Praetor?" said Manadoo.

I groaned. I'll never get used to my characters reading my stories. "I'm never living that down, am I?"

She smirked. "Technically speaking, you brought it up."

"Plus," said Ditzwalker, "Merodi has more copies of Fimfiction in the data vaults than we have feathers, so no. No you aren't."

Tenbubble... Well, she was smiling. I'm going to count that as a win. "So, what are we toasting?"

"Well, I'd say to Gideon, but you'd probably think that's in bad taste. I drafted War of the Spark too, after all."

"I do, yes."

"In that case..." An idea struck me and I smiled as I raised my glass. "To inspiration. May it take us in unexpected directions, and hopefully no more than once in any given one."

The three Ditzies followed suit. "To inspiration!" they chorused.

Note:
Hey, my avatar had to be somewhere between chapter 100 and Different Views of Reality. Plus, the second Sombra's Clipshow having two MtG first contact segments gave me an excuse to bring in both of the pegasi.

For reference, Manadoo is from Elementals of Harmony, Tenbubble from The Implicit Neighs, and Ditzwalker is of course from the Oversaturated World. I do have a tendency to do this with She of the Seven Bubbles, to the point where another author actually subverted the trope in one of his stories.

And yes, this was horribly self-indulgent, but it's the kind of self-indulgence one can only perform in a setting like SotS. Plus it got me to think about how planeswalking works in the context of the wider multiverse. There must be some limit on it to keep planeswalkers from wandering outside of their neck of the woods. Presumably it's an isolated cluster where most connections are to the Blind Eternities, a universe with a ruinously intense energy density that's presented as the interstitial substructure of the multiverse in MtG lore. Seems like a textbook D-Sphere world to me.

Fiora is one of the planes of Magic: the Gathering, best known for the political scheming in the High City Paliano, but also presumably home to considerable stretches of wine country given its Italian inspiration. Shoggoth's Old Peculiar comes from the Neil Gaiman short story of the same name. Dominia is an old term for the MtG multiverse as a whole (by which I mean it's one the game used in its early years.) And Ravnica, another MtG plane, is... complicated. Suffice to say, the politics there have left Tenbubble well-prepared for working with the Merodi, to say nothing of fighting for her life against soul-eating ancient Egyptian cyborg zombie hippos.
(They weren't all hippos, granted, but those tend to stick in the mind.)

Okay, last one. Probably.

Happier Times: Disruptive Tendencies

There was a bit of wisdom from Old Earth, back in the days when interstellar travel seemed like a pipe dream for humans: In space, no one can hear you scream. That was why Samus Aran preferred to call her agent between solar systems.

“What do you mean there are no jobs!?”

After all, she had a reputation to uphold.

Nathan Jezuul flinched on the other side of the comm screen, his slicked-back hair and thin mustache only emphasizing his rodent-like appearance. Samus swore that all bounty agents looked like that given enough time, some kind of environmental adaptation. “What can I tell you?” he said once he recovered, “it’s deader than Meteos right now.”

“Bull. No outstanding warrants, no prison breaks, no assassination contracts? You know I’ll take those if the target’s scum.”

“C’mon," he wheedled. Nathan seemed to struggle not to wheedle. "What’s the rush? Relax a little.”

Samus's fingers rapped against her chair's armrest. “It’s been four standard months since my last job, Nathan. I get antsy.”

“I know you’re not hurting for credits. After all you’ve done. I’m sure you’ve got one heck of a nest egg put away.”

“I have no intention of becoming some interstellar dilettante.”

“Of course, of course, that’s not you at all!” Nathan’s usual slick attitude was starting to wear thin; Samus could see the stress underneath the grease. “Have you ever considered the F-Zero circuit? You’ve got the reflexes.”

Samus raised an eyebrow. “It’s not like you to suggest a career change to a client, Nathan.” She scowled. “What’s this really about?”

A nervous, oddly high-pitched chuckle escaped her agent’s lips before he found some new reserve of composure. After trying to hide the slip behind a cough, he gave the least sincere smile she’d seen off of a bare skull. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sammy.”

The scowl deepened. “You don’t get to play at wounded dignity with me, Jezuul. It’s a big galaxy. There are plenty of other bounty agencies out there.”

Nathan’s look of shock was as genuine as his smile hadn’t been. “Why Samus, I would hope that our years, years of mutually profitable partnership would mean something to you.”

“Not when you’re keeping information from me with all the subtlety of an antimatter warhead.”

The play of emotions across Nathan’s face was a sight to see. Professional congeniality warred with the fear of losing his star client, along with a number of other little twitches and twists that spoke of far more going on beneath the surface. Finally, he slumped in his seat and gave a dejected sigh. “I didn’t want to tell you this—”

“Clearly.”

“Down, girl, I’m on your side. The fact of the matter is that you’ve developed a…" He sucked a breath through his teeth. "Call it an unfortunate reputation.”

Samus blinked in surprise. “Reputation? For what? Getting the job done?” Her fist clenched as annoyance fed on professional pride. “Name one time I couldn’t deliver.”

“It’s not about reliability, Sammy.”

“What, then? Is this about the Bottle Ship job? I was working through some personal issues at the time.”

“Relax, that was years ago. Nobody’s judging you for following orders while attached to a Galactic Fed unit.”

Samus paused as she considered the next possibility that came to mind. “It isn’t Falcon, is it? I thought we had an understanding.”

“Reaaally?” Nathan’s eyebrows started waggling at an almost inhuman rate.

“None of your business.”

“You’re no fun. Haven’t been since you stopped dyeing your hair.”

“I thought we agreed not to talk about that.” Samus frowned. That had come out more petulant than she’d intended, which was to say at all. The frown deepened as she said, “We’re getting off topic and I’m through guessing. Just what is this bad reputation for?”

“Well… Look, not to put too fine a point on it, but several customers have noticed that you have a bad habit of, how to put this…” Nathan shrugged. “Eh, let’s rip off the bandage. You blow up a planet every mission.”

Silence and stillness followed. If it weren’t for the rise and fall of her chest, Samus might have seemed dead. Eventually, the alleged destroyer of worlds collected herself enough to say, “What.”

“Okay, so sometimes it’s a space station, but still. Gotta bear in mind, Sammy, most bounties are requested on the same planet as the target. There just aren’t that many folks who are willing to risk losing their homes on a global scale just to get even.”

“You know I don’t do petty grudge jobs. You can’t tell me there isn’t a single fugitive on the GF blotter.”

Nathan gave her a flat look that all but screamed “Are you kidding me?” Out loud, he said, “Sammy, if you think the Feds are even gonna spit in your direction four months after you blew up their science fair project, I’ve got some beachfront property on Betelgeuse to sell you.”

Samus massaged her temples. “You know, I keep hoping that was all a bad dream. Resurrecting the Metroids was bad enough, but people being that willingly stupid…”

“Y’know what they say. If we could harness sapient stupidity, there’d never be another energy crisis.”

“True enough.” After another silent moment, Samus said, “Am I really that prone to destruction?”

Nathan raised an eyebrow, then began counting off on his fingers. “Zebes, the Bottle Ship, Tallon IV, Phaze, Aether—”

“I saved Aether.”

“One of ‘em.”

Samus gave Nathan a flat look. “The one that wasn’t a caliginous death world in a nightmarish pocket dimension.”

He shrugged. “A planet’s a planet.”

“And are you really going to tell me that destroying Phaze was a bad thing?”

“The GF certainly thinks so." Another shrug, as Nathan's voice took on a singsong cadence. "You know how it is, Sammy. Some people see a dangerous mutagen, some see a promising new energy source. Who’s to say who’s right?”

Samus crossed her arms. “The planet was intentionally hurling chunks of itself to infest other worlds. It was a literal interstellar cancer.”

Nathan sighed as he leaned his head on his fist. “Take it from an agent, Sammy. The truth isn't as important as image here. Not everyone’s had your experiences, and the Feds are a lot better at spreading their point of view around. And now most of the jobs I’d usually give you are marked ANNA.”

“‘Anna’?” Bounty hunting came with a wide and sometimes absurd vocabulary all its own, but that was a new one.

“Aran Need Not Apply.”

Samus sighed. “And if I wait for this to blow over, I fade out of the public eye enough that you can bump me down a paygrade.”

“Hey, I just match hunters to bounties." Nathan grinned. "If I were you, I’d find it flattering. You’re too badass for the galaxy to handle!”

Samus didn't smile much. This was no exception, even if it came closer than usual. “That’s... certainly one way of looking at it.”

“Think of it as a vacation, Sammy. Enjoy yourself.”

“I will when I figure out how. I…" Sensors Samus had installed after Aether started blinking. "Nathan, I’m going to have to call you back.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Trouble?”

“Interdimensional activity. Need to focus. Later.” Samus cut the connection and transferred the dimensional scanners' readouts on the screen. The Ing were far from the only foulness lurking outside of conventional spacetime. After she'd saved their world, the Luminoth were happy to provide some upgrades to Samus's ship. She pinpointed the forming disturbance and set the main cannon to Annihilator Beam just to be sure. The moment something black and tentacled appeared...

That moment never came. Rather than the cloud of crackling blackness Samus had expected, a neat circle opened up instead, briefly revealing unfamiliar stars before a ship smaller than hers slipped through. It looked like a civilian craft, a harmless-looking titanium-white crescent with a cockpit Samus could see into. Two occupants, with room for four more.

Samus scowled and opened every hailing frequency she had available. "Unknown extradimensional ship, this is the independent ship Hunter requesting identification."

The call went through, and she got an A/V stream in response. She opened it on the main console, and spent a moment assessing what she saw.

Humanity had spread far and wide since the days of Old Earth, and had developed a wide variety of novel mutations to adapt to the strange worlds they found throughout the galaxy. Samus had met people as pale as the pilot, and plenty who'd dyed their hair even more outlandishly. The passenger's skin and hair coloration were theoretically possible even on Old Earth, more or less. Even the thin limbs weren't unknown on low-G worlds. But those eyes were larger than any human she'd ever seen.

The passenger's somehow got even wider. "Oh my God, you're Samus Aran!" he gasped.

"Multiverse, D-Pad," said the pilot, smiling fondly at him.

"I see my reputation precedes me. Still waiting on that ID."

The pilot nodded. "Captain Suzie 'Sweetie' Mash of Merodi Universalis, piloting Skiff Sierra-Bravo-Oh-One-Niner. This is my husband, D-Pad 'Button' Mash."

"And this is already the most amazing honeymoon ever!" said D-Pad, literally bouncing in his seat. "When you told me this place was called Galaxa Nintendo, I never thought—"

That same fond smile, tempered by rolling eyes. "Breathe, D-Pad."

It got Samus's lips to curl up just a fraction. "I can certainly admire his enthusiasm." She resumed her neutral expression. "Though the idea of a society so casually multiversal that you go to other universes for honeymoons is... striking."

"Bad experiences?" said Suzie.

D-Pad gasped. "Metroid Prime: Echoes! The Ing!" He cringed. "Ugh, Boost Guardian flashbacks..."

Suzie shushed him. Samus just stared at the console for a few moments before saying, "Excuse me?"

"It's complicated. If you'd like, we can escort you to the capital. Assuming you aren't busy."

D-Pad snorted. "Of course she's busy! She kills space pirates and doesn't afraid of anything!"

"I'm actually in a bit of a lull. And I was trying to think of something to actually do on vacation. I'm not used to taking them. This is..." Samus frowned. "Suspiciously convenient, now that I think about it."

Suzie smiled at that, a knowing look in her eyes. "These kinds of coincidences happen more often than you think. I'm sure you can pick out a few others."

After a bit more thought, Samus gave a grudging nod. "Chozo technology does tend to crop up in unusual places."

"So, that's a yes on visiting Celestia City?"

D-Pad clasped his hands together. "Please say yes. You are so awesome."

Samus shrugged. "You know what? Why not?"

Nathan opened the video call slack-jawed. "Sammy, when I told you to take a vacation, I didn't expect you to completely fall off the map for six months. Where the heck have you been?"

"Oh, you know." Samus smirked and waved a hand in the air. "Around."

Nathan scowled. "I think I liked you better when you were grumpy."

"Any jobs?"

He grimaced. "You know how they say absence makes the heart grow fonder?"

"Yes."

"It's bunk. Most of this stuff is pure slush pile. Baby food. A moisture farmer could do it. Only item of interest is still marked ANNA."

"Well then." Samus leaned back, hands behind her head. "I guess I'll have to go back to my other gig."

"Other gig?" Nathan leaned closer to the camera. "What other gig? Since when did you say 'gig'?"

"Six months can do a lot for a girl, Nathan. It's been fun." Samus smirked at an inside joke. Just before she cut the connection, she said the last thing the agent would ever hear from her:

"Thanks for playing."

Note:
I mean, where else would Suzie take her Button on their honeymoon? (On a related note, not sure if he ever got a defined name for the multiverse at large...)

Okay, there are a bunch of other potential locations, but Galaxa Nintendo has a Lylat system, an F-Zero circuit, a Pop Star, a Rosalina... It's almost like it was designed specifically for these two.

Also, fun fact, I put together the original idea and some of the dialogue for this story back in 2009. Never went anywhere with it... until Suzie came in.

And seriously, screw the Boost Guardian. Even if you get the Screw Attack much later in that game.

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"It's complicated. If you'd like, we can escort you to... not exactly the capital, but one of our more notable settlements. Assuming you aren't busy."

Celestia City was built to be the capital. The Hub is what holds that fancy “not exactly” title.

Also you named him D-Pad. I accept this.

I accept this snip and label it "enjoyable." *stamps*

-GM, master of Happy Times, hopefully.

Feds are even gonna spit om your direction

in your direction

a harmless-looking titanium white crescent

titanium-white

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I accept this snip and label it "enjoyable." *stamps*

Agreed, this was fun. *counterstamps*

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I've set your stories up for publishing on Enchorus on off days. I'm not sure which one was first, but hey, it's up now. The others will go up before the 19th.
-GM, master of 1001001

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May I participate? Tho, before I do, I must admit I haven't read SotS. May I have the general gist and such?

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You may participate.
That said, no, I don't think I'll give you the gist. It's important that context is understood. However, there are different stories you could read, and you don't have to complete them to write a story in it.

Songs of the Spheres is the main story with most of the info, naturally.
Amber Ashes is a shorter story that's self-contained and mirrors a lot of SotS's main themes.
The League of Sweetie Belles also contains a lot of stuff, and focuses on crossing over ponyfics.
Compliance is the only major story I didn't write, focusing on Warhammer 40k's place in the multiverse.

I'd pick whichever one interests you most. Amber Ashes is a good place to start if wordcount scares you and it gives a nice general idea.

((I don't suggest reading Ehcnorus without context, it'd just be confusing.))
-GM, master of Enchorus.

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OK, Mr master.

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Having said all that, even reading just the first few chapters of Songs of the Spheres should give a general idea of how the multiverse works, enough to be able to write in a different part of the vast multiverse. I'm writing several stories for Enchorus, and very few of them directly connect to the main story.