Chapter Forty Two : Pinkie Pie - The Lion’s Den (part 2)
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Pinkie Pie: The Lion’s Den (part 2)
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“Lord Cruciger, if I may, I would like to introduce Miss Pinkamena Diana Pie.” Rarity made the formal first impressions just before the start of the night’s meal. “She is Ponyville’s entertainment specialist and a mare of many talents.”
Pinkie introduced herself with a bow. “I’m super-duper happy to meet you, sir.”
Little did anypony know that beneath her calm exterior, Pinkamena Diane Pie had to fight her every impulse to spring around the gathering banquet party. Like some sort of springy-thing. Oh! Like a spring!
But it wasn’t her fault. After the exhausting performance on stage, she had downed another iced coffee (or three) and been quickly washed, groomed, and put into a dress for the second part of Operation Smiling Snake. Certain ponies, notably Antimony and Rainbow Dash, had probably derived a little too much enjoyment from tossing her in a tub and scrubbing her down with all sorts of non-candy scented oils and perfumes, but Pinkie had put up with it. This was just another test of her party-going skills, after all, and Rarity and Twilight needed her to buckle up and go for an unconventional ride. Every minute of it, she had prepared her body and mind for this.
Her body, as someponies tended to say, was ready.
It was time for fun! The most challenging fun of her life! So much deadly-deadly fun!
(Fun. Fun. Fun. Is that all you think about?)
Quiet brain, I don’t need any backtalk from you.
(Do you even listen to yourself think?)
Do you?
( …What?)
Exactly. Now let me work my magic.
“The mare who played Soothing Light,” Cruciger said, and his frowny-face really made Pinkie just want to jump at him and physically stretch his cheeks out into a huge smile. What was on his face now, it was just a big, mocking, frowny-frown, and suddenly she realized she hadn’t actually seen his alleged smile from before. It was nice to hear about it from Monee, and she didn’t doubt that it had happened, but she hadn’t been close enough to see it herself. Was it just a little quirk of his cheeks or did he show teeth? Did his eyes crinkle or close or light up? There were a million-billion ways to smile, and every pony’s was different and super special!
She wanted to see that elusive smile!
Pinkie chuckled as her mane fell over her face, partly obscuring her eyes…
Then she shot back up, tossing her mane behind her and smiling broadly. “That’s me, alright! Monee’s told me all about you, and here I was about to sit next to my friend Rarity for dinner, and I thought it’d be really neat to share a drink or two with you!”
Cruciger simply stared at her like she was some sort of gibbering alien. The big bay-colored stallion didn’t seem to have anything to say. It did, at least, give Pinkie a chance to get a closer, better look at her target for the night. She took stock of the missing eye, concealed by a black gem and silver metal, the hint of a scar visible beneath the vest over his chest, the austere gray mane and the somewhat scarily long horn. It wasn’t quite as pointy as Pokey’s horn, but it still looked sharp. More like a big, serrated sword than a needle, though. And then there was that frown that she swore to turn upside down. Oh! How she hated that frown!
Before she could make any progress on that front, though, she had to find out a way to converse and interact with him. She had to find out what he liked and didn’t like. Like the canny jungle chameleon, she needed to be able to blend in to avoid ninjas and strike at unsuspecting wild cupcakes with her sticky tongue. Or was that the noble aardvark?
“Sir, I’d be very happy and really honored to share a table with you, sir!” she announced, standing up straight and saluting, hoof to her forehead.
“I assume it won’t be a problem, Lord Duke?” Rarity glanced from Cruciger to his wife. “Lady Duchess?”
“Mmm, what?” Lady Star Light had two notepads floating around her head like a pair of paper ears. One dipped down as she jotted down a thought that only then crossed her mind. “Problem? No, no, something to distract him should be fine. I’ll be coming and going all night, I’d bet. So much to do! Don’t want to cause a planar inversion after all! Very bad! Potentially cataclysmic! Can’t test until outside populated areas.”
“Mother,” Antimony tried to protest. “It is terribly rude to work while--”
“This isn’t work to me,” Lady Star Light insisted, sigils appearing on the paper as a magical pencil jotted down her notes. “And if I don’t actively direct purple and orange, they’ll just go off and do their own thing! I hate to micromanage them, but those two just aren’t compatible! Yellow is better, but I don’t entirely trust her yet. Then there’s the blood work on blue! Why blue? Why blue? She shouldn’t be that kind of blue… unless…! Oh, no, no, shouldn’t speculate, not yet! Research first! Busy, busy, very busy, but work? Not at all!”
“Sounds fun!” Pinkie decided. Crazy fun.
“Then let us eat, drink, and celebrate the friendship between Ponyville and all the realms of the Terre Rare,” Rarity declared, and Cruciger nodded primly.
“Yes,” he agreed. “Come.”
They sat at the head of an exclusive table populated by the crème of Cruciger’s officer corps. There was an eclectic mix of uniformed mares and stallions, even a griffin and a scarred old donkey. Earth ponies, unicorns and pegasi were all in roughly equal attendance. Food was served in generous but not wasteful portions, a rich but not exactly bountiful feast from both the army and Ponyville. Most important of all, the wine, beer, and salt flowed freely.
Pinkie Pie sat next to Rarity, having to converse with her target from one seat away. Initially, she watched and listened, like the ever-cunning and predatory octopus that lies in wait in the tree for a passing fish to jump out of the water. Watching and waiting, listening and hearing, eavesdropping and observing! Wait, was that the octopus or the deadly Red Panda?
(Your analogies are terrible; watching and waiting is what alligators do, you know, like Gummy?)
Oh yeah!
(Anyway, focus on these two. Cruciger--)
Call him Cruccie.
(No.)
Do it.
(No.)
DO IT.
(Fine! Cruccie… he seems a little like Papa, doesn’t he? They’re both inveterate and unrepentant grumps. But while Pappy Pie and Mommy Pie are pretty like-minded, these two here seem really different. Did you notice that?)
Where did Rarity get baked, crunchy bread? Smells good, too!
(Focus already! Remember why we’re here!)
Oh yeah…
(Good. Are you paying attention? Alright. Look at Cruccie and Lady Star Light. He doesn’t seem to be very nice towards most ponies, but I bet if we watch and learn how she interacts with him, we’ll learn a bit about what we need to do. Especially with what Antimony--)
Monee.
(--with what Monee told you earlier. Will you please forget the food for a while and pay attention? Just… imagine being like Twilight. Okay?)
Okey dokey lokey!
(Remember: your friends are counting on you.)
I know. Geez! Get off my back, brain!
Nibbling on a piece of crunchy bread, Pinkie sat silently and watched her prey. Just like Twilight, she had to keep an eye on the details, and less like Twilight, she needed to get a feel for her target’s intangibles. It was the intangibles, after all, that made or broke a good party. Most ponies didn’t advertise what they liked when it came to music or entertainment or party themes. Especially if the party was meant to be a surprise! Nope! A clever party planner had to feel out these things. That was just what she had to do here, too.
Cruciger and Lady Star Light… watching them, Pinkie felt pretty sure that they weren’t much like her Parents Pie, or even like Mister and Mrs. Cake. Those couples where partners that shared each other’s interests. Here, their personalities seemed to be just so very different. Lady Star Light quickly ate and went back to darting from one notepad to another, speaking to those around her only curtly and dismissively. Cruciger, meanwhile, ate slowly and calmly spoke to the occasional pony, appearing aloof and bored next to his hyperactive wife, but anything but distracted. If anything at all, he seemed all-too-aware of the ponies around him, just that he felt little need to do more than quietly lord over them.
“Is there a problem?”
Pinkie jumped in place a little but quickly sat still. “A little,” she admitted. “I’m just watching and waiting.”
“Is that so?” Antimony asked. She turned to trot away, and Pinkie got up and followed her, using the excuse to draw the noblemare into a private conversation. Rarity noticed them go, but continued to sit politely at the table, sipping her drink.
“You said once, very quietly, that I reminded you of someone,” Pinkie whispered, following the older mare for a quick walk. “Was it your mother?”
Antimony continued to walk, never a pause in her stride. Like her father, she kept her expressions frustratingly closely guarded. The difference was, Antimony had wanted to open up to somepony – or so Pinkie thought – and simply being open-minded and friendly when she expected everypony to abandon her had been enough to win her over. When nopony else was looking, the Baroness of Mareseilles let a genuine frown of concern cross her face.
“My mother,” she said and slowed just slightly to avoid leaving their little zone of privacy away from the ears of anypony else at the party. Everywhere around them were lights, fires and magic. It was hardly a place most ponies would consider private, still in the very public eye, but everypony was also distracted with drinking, dancing and even wrestling, particularly the omnipresent pegasi up in the sky, chanting and boasting as they had contests of strength and stamina.
“My mother has a ‘condition,’ in case you didn’t notice,” Antimony explained. “Usually, her bouts of hypomania last a week or two, followed by a down period of depression. It isn’t severe, but most of the time she has little interest in responsibilities like running her realm or… other things. Either she is too irritable to be bothered to deal with it, too morose to care, or too distracted by her research. She has a truly brilliant mind, but living with her can be difficult to impossible at times.”
“And, yes, I thought you were the same,” she added, a half-lidded eye finding Pinkie Pie before focusing on the night sky. “That was when I first saw you. But I was mistaken. You’re crazy in a number of other ways.”
“I sure am!” Pinkie agreed with a giggle but just as quickly, she returned to being semi-serious. “Was it hard? I mean… having a mother who…?”
“My father looked after me. He raised me, and he raised my sisters, until we were old enough to compete for the right to be the family heir.” Antimony huffed. “He also cares for my mother, when her darker moods manifest and she needs somepony to be with her. I don’t know what Rarity or even Twilight Sparkle have told you, but he is a good pony. My father is a good pony. And a great stallion. My parents are both good ponies, and I have no regrets when it comes to my foalhood.”
Pinkie Pie stared at her, and the two walked slowly in silence.
“Why are you helping Rarity with this?” Pinkie asked and noticed Antimony’s neck tense, though she never turned her gaze away from the star-dappled heavens. “Why do you want your father too worn out to duel tomorrow?”
“To protect him,” Antimony answered, and Pinkie sensed it was an honest answer, but still very evasive. “To keep our family unified. That has always been my goal as successor to Arsenic, Bismuth the Elder, my grandmother, and now my father. I do not want my father to fight anypony but our true enemy. That is my definition of harmony.”
Pinkie couldn’t say she understood all of that, but the sentiment? That she did understand. Antimony loved her parents, for all their flaws. She loved her family, even when it was hard to do so.
“Monee--”
“Please don’t ask me how to soften my father’s heart,” Antimony told her, and Pinkie caught a smoldering look in the unicorn’s strange red eyes. “There is reason why you were chosen for this and not I. Making ponies smile is not my talent. It is yours.”
Pinkie wanted to argue, to tell her new friend that she was wrong, but she could feel it as much as see it in Antimony’s body language. It would be a waste of words. It wouldn’t work. Not today. Maybe… someday soon, but not today.
Still, she had a crazy hunch or two.
“Tell me more about them and how they met,” Pinkie asked her. “I need to know more.”
- - -
Rarity didn’t let it show, but she was starting to get a little anxious. Even before Pinkie left to take a walk with Antimony, she had sent out a few tentative feelers to see if she could help engage Lord Cruciger. She was a charming mare, or so she had always been told, and she knew she had a certain way with stallions. Yet her offer to dance with the Duke of Germaney and Prance was politely rebuffed. Cruciger appeared content to drink moderately, eat moderately, and be sure his wife did the same. Lady Star Light, for her part, hardly seemed to be paying attention to the other ponies at the table at all.
That was, until Pinkie Pie boldly – suicidally, some might say – jumped in between the Duke and Duchess.
“Heya!” she whooped, smiling and oblivious to the growing look of annoyance on Cruciger’s face. “Who wants to dance!? You’re done eating, right? So let’s have some fun! Let’s dance!”
“We don’t--” Cruciger started to growl, and Rarity could feel their entire plan coming apart at the seams. Any second now, Pinkie would grab onto the Black Duke’s foreleg to pull him away from the table and he would…
“Oh, huh, eh? Me?!” Lady Star Light yipped as Pinkie grabbed her by the hoof and dragged her along, floating notebooks spinning in place over the spot the noblemare abruptly left vacant. “W-w-wha--?”
Rarity blinked, momentarily stunned by the sight before her.
Had – had Pinkie Pie just dragged off the matriarch of the entire Terre Rare Family right in front of her husband? Oh Sweet Celestia. Cruciger began to stand, an intense look in his one still-living eye, and Rarity could feel a pressure begin to build around him as his horn channeled magic – an oppressive, heavy sort of magic that made the hairs of her mane stand on end with static charge.
“Please calm yourself, father,” Antimony interrupted, taking her mother’s seat and placing her hoof on one of his.
Not far from the tables, the band began to play a lively tune, the Tritsch-Tratsch-Polka. There were already ponies, mostly from the officer classes, out dancing, and they made way for Pinkie and the Duchess. With her typical exuberance and energy, Pinkie began to spin around the older mare, zipping this way and that through the crowd. As if simply to avoid getting in her way, it wasn’t long before Pinkie Pie had an entire set of other ponies dancing in tune to her, spinning around their partners and prancing around on the fresh green grass of the field.
“Hrm,” Cruciger grunted, easing himself back down.
He was watching his wife and her abductor carefully, warily, clearly protectively, but soon began to relax as he came to realize there was no harm or danger. Rarity tried to make some small conversation along with one of his subordinates, a pegasus officer in the hussars, and draw the Duke in on some of it, but he was wholly distracted. He only had eyes for the dance and for his wife.
Rarity could hardly believe it.
The big, bad Black Duke was a softy when it came to his crazy wife.
She smiled but kept the reason for it an unspoken secret. She had heard nothing but horror stories about this stallion, but the way he was watching Pinkie and his wife dance and laugh, he almost looked a little star-struck. His mouth was just slightly agape, and his one eye, usually so baleful and calculating… still seemed sort of baleful and calculating, but also betrayed a twinkle of amusement. The more he saw of Star Light enjoying herself, the more he became at ease.
Until, finally, he was comfortable enough to be able to look away. His demeanor hardly seemed to change; he was still curt and domineering towards those he spoke with, but when Pinkie Pie came back and started pulling on his foreleg… instead of shaking her off or blasting her into the upper atmosphere (as Rarity had sort of suspected he would)… he simply went along with the exuberant party pony.
The band began to play Dance of the Hours, and the hardened, battle scarred patriarch of Equestria’s most powerful family danced first with his wife, and then with a hyperactive pink pony, and then with both at once. Rarity couldn’t see much from her spot at the table, so when a handsome stallion in uniform asked her to join him in the famous Sabre Dance ballet, she accepted.
It was the perfect opportunity to do a little more snooping, after all.
- - -
Applejack stared numbly at the glass of cider in front of her.
“N-no more,” she moaned, tapping out of the contest. “No more… cider…”
“A worthy effort!” Lord Cruciger bellowed as he downed yet another pint from the dimpled pewter stein so similar to the very same ones the Apple family hoofed out to customers back at the farm.
“That just leaves you and me, Mister Big Hooves!” Pinkie chortled, also finishing off her cider and topping off the display with a distinctly unladylike belch. “Hehehehe!” And there was the old giggle-snort. “Big Hooves! You have bi~i~g hooves.”
“The better to stomp on things with,” The Great Duke insisted, holding up one of his admittedly massive hooves. Pinkie Pie then amused herself by poking it with her own little pink hoof, laughing drunkenly all the while. Not far from the pair, Antimony and Rarity both lay sprawled over one another, half asleep and entirely drunk. The truth was really the reverse, but if they were just playing the part, it certainly looked pretty convincing. Lady Star Light was less inebriated, but no less indisposed, her head cradled in between her forelegs as she snored, drooling on a pile of papers in the process.
“Hold, hold, hold,” Cruciger insisted. “I said hold!” he boomed, and Pinkie fell flat onto her back from the sudden noise. “I – I have a trick that I shall share with you lot.”
“Oh! Oh! A trick! A trick! A tricky trick!”
“Hrm. Yes. It has to do with stomping,” Cruciger explained and held up his pewter mug. “When we – er, I – when I was young, in the Guard you know, I perfected this trick. Weak ponies crush glass, but not I. Not Cruciger.”
Placing the heavy pewter stein on the table, then shaking his head and placing it instead in the cup of one hoof, he held it up for everypony to see. Which was mostly Pinkie Pie, as everypony else was asleep or wishing they were, but there were a few other mostly conscious onlookers. Cruciger paused and then tantalizingly held his other hoof over the lid of the stein.
“Ohhhh!” Pinkie Pie leaned in close, close enough that he had to shoo her back.
“Not too close, Pink-Pinkamena Pie…” he warned, and returned his hoof to hover over the stein. “Now. Watch.”
Applejack was watching, and she still darn near missed it. There was a thud and a rush of air, enough to blast her hat clear off her head, and then Duke Cruciger held up his hooves. Where once there had been a solid pewter stein, there was now only a flattened disk with a spiraling hoof-mark in it. Pinkie Pie giggled and laughed and snorted as he gave it to her to inspect.
“Wow-wee! You were like: stomp-smash! And it was super-fast, and now – now we have a free Frisbee! We can play Ultimate Frisbee! Oh! I have to show you how to play Ultimate Frisbee! Especially since – since you can, like, make Frisbees whenever you want!” She started to spin the discus around on the tip of her hoof. “Hey! Is Frisbee-stompy-making your special talent?”
“No, no,” Cruciger replied, shaking his head. “Merely a trick, as I said.”
“Some trick,” Applejack groused and passed her stein down the table with a wave of her hoof. “Was it some sorta magic?”
“It was power,” Cruciger stated, catching her stein full of cider. “Now! Servants! Fetch more drink! I command it!”
“Yeah! We have a mighty thirst!” Pinkie Pie agreed, waving her hooves in the air. “Somepony throw me a--” a mug promptly collided with her forehead “--ouch. A drink. Tha~a~anks!”
Plucking the stein out from an impression in her head, Pinkie raised it high and began to down the contents without delay. Cruciger laughed and matched her, finishing off Applejack’s drink with equal aplomb. By all accounts, the two had consumed enough alcohol to put most ponies in the hospital, yet they were still going. Then again, Cruciger was some sort of huge monster stallion, and Pinkie Pie was… Pinkie Pie. Also known as a bottomless pit where food and drink went to die.
“Pardon my fancy, but Ah gotta take a piss somethin’ fierce,” Applejack slurred, slowly meandering away from the table.
Not far from Rarity, she saw a loudly dozing Rainbow Dash wearing somepony’s grenadier cap, won up in the clouds during some sort of drinking or wrestling contest. Maybe drunken wrestling. Hopefully the good kind. Big Mac had vanished again, too, and Applejack was pretty sure he’d show up in the morning insisting he just found a nice tree to nap under and nothing else. As if he didn’t know how many mares chased after him around town, undressing him with their eyes! Not that undressing him with one’s eyes was hard, since he didn’t wear clothes, so maybe it was more accurate to say they were dressing him with their eyes.
Uggh!
“Nopony ogles my brother and gets away with it… except my friends,” she muttered to herself in between searching for the little filly’s room. Cruciger ran a pretty strict camp when it came to sanitation, so there was next to nothing near the lake. Anypony stupid enough to try pissing in the water there would probably end up as squashed-flat as that pewter mug.
And, Celestia, if seeing that wasn’t freaky.
What kind of a pony crushed solid metal between his hooves like putty? How could a pony even do that? Maybe Shigure could have, but metal didn’t just flatten like that, no matter how strong you were. Didn’t it?
“Ah ha!” Finally finding the object of her search, Applejack winced at the sudden ray of sunlight that emerged over the roof of the sanitation tent. Ignoring the disturbance for a moment, she pushed her way through the tent flap. It wasn’t a private bathroom, that was for sure, but at least there were only a few other mares still up and awake. Not including the poor guards who had to keep sober and alert their half of the night.
Finding the basin to wash her hooves, Applejack noticed a familiar face.
“An-Antonovka, howdy there, sugarcube!” Applejack called out to the other mare. Unlike most ponies, she seemed completely sober and, finished drying her hooves with a towel, the stoic mare glanced Applejack’s way.
“Brigadier General Antonovka,” the older mare corrected her, “if you please.”
Applejack also, for the first time, saw the mare’s bare flanks… and her cutie mark.
It was an apple!
Suddenly the name, the coloration, the earth pony build… the fact that she was an earth pony… it all came together. “Y-you, you’re… are you…?”
“Am I what?” the foreign mare inquired, scowling.
“Are you an Apple?” Applejack asked, though she knew she’d never seen this mare at any family reunions. “Applejack, of the Apple Clan! Ah… I’m from the Baldwin Apple side of the family? Ring any bells, sugarcube? I think we’re--”
“You’re mistaken,” Antonovka told her, bluntly.
“But--” Applejack tried to protest, standing between the mare and the exit. “--come on, ain’t nothing ta hide! We’re both apples growin’ from different branches a’ the same tree!”
Antonovka finally seemed to snap, stamping one of her hooves in anger. “Nyet! No! I do not know who you think I am, but I am not that mare!”
“But yer cutie mark…” Applejack protested, persisting despite the rebuff. “Yer name…”
“It is a type of apple, this is true, as is my cutie mark,” Antonovka replied, scowling. “Meaning what? You speak of family and kinship, but I was raised by Terre Rare family, and I serve them. There is nopony else. As far as I am concerned, my cutie mark represents my skill at procuring and organizing supplies for the ponies I command. Nothing more.”
Applejack felt a short surge of ire at how this other mare had snapped at her, but maybe she had some sort of point. Not every pony with an apple cutie mark was part of her extended family, not even every earth pony with that mark, and of those who were, not all choose to identify themselves as such. She’d gotten so excited about finding another distant relative she could talk to… she’d jumped at it, far too aggressively. Too roughly, as Rarity would often say. Though it was a little hard to wrap her head around the Terre Rare, a family of unicorns, ‘raising’ an earth pony.
“Sorry,” she muttered under her breath. “Ah didn’t mean ta be so pushy.”
Antonovka nodded, apparently satisfied by that, and turned to leave.
Except… she paused, briefly, at the cusp of exiting the tent. “Besides which, I could never be related to a pony I could not trust or respect. I know you and your co-conspirators are up to something, Miss Applejack.”
The apple farmer felt a chill run up her spine, whether at the threat or at being called a ‘conspirator,’ she couldn’t say for sure. It was true, after all. By virtue of Rarity filling her in on things and her choosing, of her own free will, not to act on it, she was involved. She was responsible. She was accountable. The dirt was on her hooves, too.
“What?” she asked, after what had to be a suspiciously long delay. “I – I, uh, don’t know what… yer talkin’ about, sugarcube!” She felt her face scrunch up at the near lie. It wasn’t entirely untrue. She did know some of it, but not all of it. So maybe she didn’t know just what Antonovka was referring to.
“Twilight Sparkle,” the Russian pony told her.
‘Oh, horse apples.’
“Your brother talks too much,” she continued. “And he knows more than he lets on.” Before Applejack could object or threaten her, she held up a hoof to cut her off. “Don’t worry. He’s perfectly fine. I would die before I harm one of my Lord’s honored guests, but in this army camp, my eyes and ears are everywhere. It is my duty.”
‘Darn that Big Macintosh and his Big Mouth!’
Just how the heck did he know anything about what was going on, anyway? Applejack gritted her teeth in frustration and indecision. What was she supposed to say? What was she supposed to do? This would’ve been a whole heckuva lot easier to deal with if she just hadn’t pressed Rarity for information earlier! She knew she probably had to keep denying it. Maybe this Antonovka mare was just making an educated guess? But compounding one lie on top of another? It left a decidedly bad taste in her mouth, even before she put that lie into words.
“I have been told you are the magical Element of Honesty,” Antonovka pressed, looking over Applejack with a discerning eye. “But, now, I rather wonder.”
Applejack bit her lip hard enough to feel a spark of pain. Antonovka’s statement may as well have been a kick to the stomach; it had the same effect.
‘Don’t say anythin’. Don’t say anythin’!’
Yet Antonovka remained near the flap of the tent, watching her, judging her, waiting. Another mare, a unicorn, trotted in to use the restroom, slowing as she nervously passed by the two earth ponies and giving them a wide berth. Applejack tried to will the older mare to just walk away, but Antonovka was more savvy than that – she could clearly see how her question and how her presence was making Applejack sweat. She wasn’t going to go anywhere, not before she got some sort of answer.
Applejack hung her head in defeat.
She couldn’t change who and what she was. Just like Rarity couldn’t just accept that the world she dreamed of – a world of noble fancy mares and proper, chivalrous stallions – couldn’t possibly exist, Applejack knew she couldn’t just accept that honesty was anything but the best policy. It was just how she had to be. It was something she couldn’t turn her back on.
“I’ll tell you,” she told Antonovka, finally, and the Général de Brigade smirked in satisfaction.
“Good--”
“I’ll tell you,” Applejack repeated, cutting her off mid-gloat. “If you tell me what you know, first. I’ll be honest with you if you’re honest with me, sugarcube.” She held out a hoof, an olive branch, for the other mare to take. “How about it?”
Général de Brigade Antonovka frowned, glaring down at Applejack’s hoof. For a long, tense second, it looked like she was about to snort in dismissal and leave, but something in her expression very tentatively, very slowly, softened. Applejack extended her hoof a bit further, shaking it in an open invitation to meet her halfway. Finally, in one quick move, Antonovka reached out and took Applejack’s hoof in her own, shaking it firmly.
“Very well.”
As the two shook hooves, Applejack hoped against hope that she wasn’t making a terrible mistake she and her friends would regret come the morning. Honesty wasn’t always the easiest path, but she had to believe it was the right one. If Antonovka tricked her, though, Applejack swore by every apple tree on the farm to buck her into next week.
- - -
“What is this?” Cruciger studied the tiny lithographic card held in his sizable hoof. “Where did you get this, Pinkie Pie?”
“A little filly was selling them in town!” Pinkie answered from atop her perch on the old stallion’s shoulders. At some point, she had chambered on top of his back for a ride… He had refused to give her one, but he also hadn’t bothered to dislodge her. So she had settled down, legs on his shoulders, like a filly riding her father. Or in this case, a drunken grown mare riding a drunken old stallion.
“Free Foal Press publications, magical trading cards… a cutie mark crusader copyright?” Cruciger read the fine print on the back of the card with a grumble. “Well. This is undignified.”
“But it’s you!” Pinkie reminded him, flipping the card back around to the front. There was, sure enough, a stock picture of him, glowering back at himself. Next to it, printed right over part of the picture on the lower right corner, was a hexagon, partly filled in with color.
“Hrm.” The big stallion grunted, squinting his one good eye to read what was written around and next to the hexagram. “Strength. Five. Speed. Four. Stamina. Unknown.”
“That one extends outside the chart!” Pinkie explained.
“Hrm.” He continued to read. “Magical Power. Unknown.” It also extended outside the boundary of the hexagram. “Magical Knowledge. Four and a half.”
“Oh! And the last one! Read the last one!”
“Compromise. Zero.” Cruciger ground his jaw in distaste. “That seems to be an odd category. There is information here about my dueling history, as well. Wins to losses ratio. What kind of nosy fillies are these ‘cutie mark crusaders?’”
- - -
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Applebloom asked, watching with some concern as the school’s printing roller spat out one glossy card after another.
“Forget that, should we really be advertising that we’re the ones making these?” Scootaloo asked, holding up Rainbow Dash’s trading card. “Also, do you think I should get mine signed?”
“I thought I was taking pictures for a class project.” Featherweight said, confused, fumbling with the camera in his tiny hooves.
“I feel like I’m going to get grounded for this,” Sweetie muttered to herself. “I have that ‘I’m doing something that’ll get me grounded’ feeling.”
“Are you kidding?!” Diamond Tiara slowly turned around in her editor’s chair. Opalescence sat on her lap, mewing softly as she stroked the evil cat. “We’ll be rolling in bits! You three just keep coming up with numbers.” She leveled a hoof at Featherweight. “And you get me more pictures! Saucy ones! We’ll resell alternate versions of cards, label them as exclusive, and double the price on them!”
Diamond Tiara laughed maniacally. Her name wasn’t on any incriminating material, after all. With Silver Spoon handling distribution, she was free to be what she must have been born to be, a project manager!
“What are you doing with my sister’s cat, anyway?” Sweetie Belle drolly asked.
“I’m supposed to be watching her while Lady Rarity’s away,” Tiara explained and resumed her laughter. Bits! Golden, golden bits!
- - -
“Something like that,” Pinkie concluded.
“Hrm.” Cruciger was already reading over the next card Pinkie had all but forced into his hoof. It was hers, of course! “Strength. Two. Speed. Four and a half. Stamina. Unknown. Magic. One. Knowledge. Unknown. Unpredictability. Unknown and totally off the chart. That makes some sense, yes.”
“Pinkamena Diana Pie was born on a rock farm between Ponyville and Cloudsdale. She has two sisters. Known far and wide as ‘Pinkie Pie’ she is Ponyville’s number-one party planner. Cutie mark: three balloons. She has earth pony magic combined with some sort of crazy stuff. I don’t even know how to describe it,” he read straight from the card’s picture blurb. He grunted again, not quite sure what to think about that. “Hrm.”
“You should see Rarity’s card! She has a ‘five’ in drama for her extra statistic!” Pinkie rested her hooves on the crown of his head, matting over his dark mane like a bird in a nest. “But do you think your card is accurate? Huh? Do ya?”
“Perhaps,” Duke Cruciger rumbled. He less out a long breath and reached for another mug of cider, snagging a second with the same hoof. “Magical power is my specialty. It is what I am known for. My wife, Star Light… her magical knowledge far outstrips my own.”
He lifted both steins into the air, and Pinkie grabbed one of them from him.
“How’d you two meet, anyway?” she asked, dipping her cider to clink steins with her drinking partner. “My parents met at a rock expo! Rock-con! …I think. Or was that the music festival? Daddy did have really long hair back then, and a lot of necklaces! Either one! So how about you?”
Cruciger’s one good eye tracked upwards, and his chin raised as he tried to catch sight of the pony on top of his head. He entertained the notion of shucking her off or even just brushing her away, but ultimately just grumbled. No mare he had ever met had been able to handle so much drink. In a way, she had earned her perch.
“Twinkling and I…”
- - -
Lady Bismuth the Second pressed her son’s ink-stained hoof to the parchment.
“The deal is signed!” she announced, smiling down at the little dark-coated colt sheltered beneath her. “Congratulations, my son. You will be the most powerful stallion in all the world.”
Staring up at his mother, the little colt blinked. “I will?”
“A Duke of both Germaney and Prance,” a second mare said. Where Bismuth was a dark-coated pony, much like Cruciger himself and their midnight-colored forebear, Lady Arsenic, Lady Dancing Star Spark was a brilliant alabaster white with a sparkling golden mane. She was old nobility from the ruling family of Prance, a true Duchess in both name and appearance, majestic and inspiring to behold. Together, the two matrons were like night and day.
Beneath her, hiding behind one of her legs, Cruciger could see a little white filly with a rose-red mane. She was fiddling with a crayon and an expensive-looking doll, paying only a passing attention to the conspiring noblemares and mothers that towered over them. The doll, he noticed, had been shaved, and the crayon had been used to mark sigils and outlines across its body.
“We’ll need you to adjust your names, of course,” Dancing Star Spark went on, “to reflect the seniority of our grandfoals’ Prench ancestry.”
“Naturally,” Bismuth II Brandenburg readily agreed. “The House of Arsenic-Brandenburg shall henceforth use ‘Terre Rare’ instead of ‘Seltene Erden,’ as will our cousin houses. In the rolls, we will symbolically give precedence to Deux Fleuves over Germaney.”
“And your cousins will abide by this without complaint?”
“The Neptuniums may object,” Bismuth replied with a dismissive snort, “but I will crush them and bend their heads until they see reason.”
“Ah. Ah haha!” Dancing Star Spark raised a delicate hoof to her mouth to conceal her lips as she laughed. “So fierce, you Germanes! Like wild horses! But it is good and well that you also know how to swallow your pride, Duchess.”
“A thing like that matters little in the long-term. And we… Terre Rare know how and when to bide our time. Now, there is the matter of your other daughter…”
“OHH!” Star Spark lowered her hoof from her mouth to angrily stomp it, causing the filly beneath her to scoot back and away from the questionable protection around her mother’s legs. “To even speak her name feeds my fury! Running off with that vile stablecolt? I will have her head and his colthood for this offense! Wait until I catch them! Wait and see!”
“A truly heartbreaking turn of events for a mother,” Bismuth observed with a knowing, calculating grin.
While the two Duchesses talked, a young colt warily approached his counterpart.
“You are Lady Star Light?” he asked, sitting down next to the filly and her crayon-scarred doll.
“O-one-fifty. Two. T-two-ten,” she muttered, twiddling the crayon in her hooves. “Purple. I-I mean… yes. I’m… I’m Twinkling Star Light. You’re Cruciger, right? N-not one-fifty two two-ten. I, um, I might call you that a few times. Before I get used to the name.”
He tilted his head to the side, not really following, but then nodded vigorously.
“I can wait,” he assured her, though with a little colt’s voice, it was hardly very authoritative. “Please get used to my name, Twinkling Star Light. You are my wife, and I will always be your husband. Now and forever.”
“Forever?” Star Light asked and smiled. “You mean as time approaches infinity?”
“…and I do hope at least one of their grandfoals inherits my golden mane,” Duchess Dancing Star Spark continued to prattle on, heedless of the colt and filly under her torso. “You Arsenics have the magic to do that, don’t you? Altering your foals in the womb, rather like those Neighponese do? The Garlands? I had heard rumors. Oh, that sounds like such a useful spell! Star Light was unlucky enough to be born with her fraternal grandmother’s dreadful red! If I had that magic, I would’ve tailor-made all my foals!”
“We do possess such a magic,” Bismuth explained, through her downturned eyes did lend the colt and filly at their hooves some passing attention. Her grin was small, sharp, predatory. “But it is not meant for such frivolities. For a foal to inherit a golden mane, and his grandmother’s lively disposition, we can only hope and pray as all ponies do.”
- - -
“An arranged marriage?” Pinkie asked, as Cruciger’s story wound down. She had her drink in one hoof, the other curled around his horn to keep from falling off his back where he sat. “I don’t think I’d like that… Unless…”
- - -
“My three daughters,” Igneous Rock made introductions for the family in the sitting room, gesturing with a hoof towards his three teenage fillies. “Marble Pie, my oldest…”
Marble sat primly and obediently next to her father, blushing ever so slightly. Her long gray mane concealed half of her face, leaving only one amethyst eye to meet their guests’ gaze. She smiled warmly at being introduced.
“Nice to meet you,” she said.
“My middle daughter,” Igneous Rock continued, gesturing further down the line. “Limestone Pie.”
Limestone looked bored as she reclined on the floor. Her mane and coat were a lighter shade of less pure gray than her sister, with a bit of blue to her gray coat and a pale-white lightening her gray mane, done in a professional bob cut. She wore a purple top over her torso where her sisters were both bare, and despite being in farm-fit excellent shape, she munched lazily from a bag of potato chips.
“Hey,” she groused, hoof to her cheek propping her head up.
“And my youngest daughter,” Igneous Rock went on, “Pinkamena Pie.”
“Hi!” Pinkie chirped, not feeling the need to describe herself to herself. That would just be silly.
“Girls,” Igneous Rock said, in turn introducing their new house guests. “These are the ponies I mentioned yesterday...”
Sitting opposite the three fillies was a stallion and a mare, both pegasus ponies. Actually, that wasn’t entirely accurate. One of their guests was a pegasus mare. The other was male… but…
“That’s a panda,” Limestone pointed out the obvious before biting down on another chip.
“Growf.” The big black and white panda grumbled, holding up a sign that said: Hello Everypony.
“Oh my,” Marble Pie remarked, cementing a catch phrase. “What a well-trained panda!”
“You could’ve at least changed first! Stupid old pony!” The mare yelled, hitting the panda upside the head with her hoof. She turned towards the Rock-Pie family and crossed her forelegs. “Geez! Anyway, I’m Rainbow Dash. Sorry about this.”
“Rainbow Dash,” Igneous Rock said, turning towards his family. “To unite the farms, you must marry one of my daughters…”
“Stop right there, brain!”
- - -
“You know I don’t mood swing often enough to be in a romantic comedy!” Pinkie shuddered, sticking her tongue out in disgust and hiding her head under her hooves. “What scary alternate realities! Plus, I’d much rather ship myself with Mousse. I love chocolate mousse!”
Cruciger shifted underneath her, almost knocking her off his head. “What?”
“Nothing!” Pinkie assured him, going back to holding onto his horn to keep from falling off his back. “So: an arranged marriage? I guess it worked for you two, right? You lived happily ever after?”
He slowly shook his head, jostling her back and forth in the process.
“Tell me! Tell me!” Pinkie insisted, waving her cider mug around like a deadly weapon.
“Aren’t you tired yet?” the Black Duke asked, finally slipping a hoof under her to effortlessly pick her up off his back. For a few seconds, he held out his hoof, and Pinkie literally sat on top of it, her weight easily supported by the big stallion. How she kept balanced, well, who knew?
“Before I met you,” Pinkie replied, crossing her forelegs as she recounted the tale. “I once got into a drinking contest. It was the hardest of my life. I lost, in the end, but I never gave up. I just kept on drinking and drinking! I gave it my all, refusing to quit, and, even though I lost, I’m super proud of how I did to this day!”
“Ah!” Cruciger’s good eye widened slightly at her admission. She had kept pace with him the entire night, despite being less than half his size. “Who was this formidable opponent, to out-drink you?”
“I never got his name,” Pinkie answered, her expression serious. “But only later did I learn that he was actually just a sink, and I was too drunk to notice.”
“…”
“Yeah.”
“Hrm.”
“Another drink!” Pinkie called out, tossing away her empty stein. “And more stories!”
“Another drink,” Cruciger commanded, and it was done. The party pony and the noblestallion clinked mugs of frothy cider and resumed their contest.
Neither paid much attention as the horizon colored in preparation for the rising of the sun.
- - -
The Sparkle family, minus one Shining Armor, plus one potential son-in-law, traveled by Sky Chariot with only a small escort. The pair of gold-trimmed, carved wooden chariots passed just over a cloudbank under construction, the early morning shift of Pegasus workers pausing to point at the Canterlot couples they probably assumed to be on vacation. Each chariot had only a single guard flying alongside. The Sparkle family itself had only four household security specialists, but the Canterlot Terre Rares of which they were a part maintained a larger family guard, exactly as many aristocratic houses tended to do. The four Pegasus ponies pulling the chariots were just chauffeurs; as far as Twilight knew none of them had even a lick of guard training.
Hanging onto the front of the chariot with a groan, she silently longed for the peace and leisure of a nice, slow, calming balloon ride. While not quite as stately as an airship zeppelin, she had always found the isolated, little basket of an air balloon to be unexpectedly charming. It was like having a cozy little corner of your room, all to yourself, and literally removed from any possible interruption by miles of open sky. Where a zeppelin could be a crowded social venue and a chariot was cramped, bumpy and hurried, a balloon was deliberate, considered, slow, and – best of all – oh so private. Two ponies to a balloon would have been intimate.
Two ponies to a chariot were just uncomfortable.
“Not much longer, now,” a stallion’s voice assured her, loud enough to be heard over the wind, soft enough to be gently reassuring. A wheat-colored hoof touched her own in passing. Before it could withdraw, Twilight turned her wrist to catch it in-hoof, more thankful for the fleeting bit of contact than she wanted to say.
“Are you sure you’re okay with all this?” Twilight asked, and, sitting next to her, Alpha Brass nodded solemnly.
“Better us than any others,” he reasoned. “I wish no harm on my father, but harmony in the family must come first. Besides, we need the army he has rather conveniently brought to our doorstep.”
“And if the two contradicted?” Twilight wondered and felt his hoof tighten in her own. “I know you set all this up. What if you couldn’t have harmony and this army at the same time? What if you had to choose one?”
“Twilight,” Brass said with a rich chuckle. “I think you’ve come to understand me rather well.”
“Everything you do is to crush the changelings.” She gently extradited her hoof from out of his, returning it to the floor of the chariot beneath them. “Sometimes I think that’s all you ever really think about.”
Brass said nothing at that, simply staring forward over the rim of the chariot, his closely cropped mane flowing lazily behind him. There was still a faint outline where his beard had been, ever since he cut it at her insistence. The morning light had not yet broken over the horizon; it was a twilight hour, and what little light there was highlighted the features of the stallion she had decided to spend her life with. To save her family alongside. They had spent so much time together since first meeting in the Everfree, at Zecora’s hut, both before and after her own trip to see the supposedly deceased Lady Arsenic.
Yet, she still often felt she knew so little – too little – about the real him. It was a very ephemeral sort of thought, the kind that was more a feeling than a rational analysis like she preferred. Twilight couldn’t help it, nonetheless. What she knew about him was just what somepony close to him could have learned publicly. She knew what he clearly liked and disliked, what he had written about, what he told others, and with the changelings, she shared at least one secret of his with those close to him, like Euporie and Eunomie. But it still felt like there was so much more he kept carefully, guardedly, to himself: things he never talked about and, she suspected, he would never talk about.
But, then, perhaps that was how it had to be, at least for now.
She had secrets of her own, too, that she kept from him.
“I wish we didn’t have to do this,” she said, mostly to herself, but he overheard.
“Maybe so,” he replied, and she felt him lightly touch shoulders with her. “But I am glad I don’t have to do this alone.” She reached up, and soon her hoof was pressed against his.
“Our hearts yearn, so desperately, for peace and harmony,” Alpha Brass said, dipping his eyes before he faced into the distance again. “But harmony must be seized and peace must be won. It does not favor those who remain idle. You know this, better than anypony. This is why I believe, with all my heart and soul, that we must take the future into our own hooves. I truly believe that.”
“I do, too,” she decided, and faced forward with him. The sun still had yet to rise, and she wondered idly how she looked to him, in that fading twilight glow. There was little time to think on it. Up ahead, a formation of flying silhouettes headed their way on an intercept course. There were two dozen of them on combat air patrol, swooping in on the approaching air chariots. The lead pony of each fight crackled threateningly with electricity, a faint double-contrail of smoke and cloud extending out from behind him or her.
Twilight squeezed Brass’ hoof.
This was it. There was no turning back now, for any of them.
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Pinkie Pie is such an unreliable narrator...
Oh man, I loved all of Pinkie Pie's lines. Drinking contest with a sink
(was the "romantic comedy" a shout-out to a particular story?)
Interesting. I await to see how you'll deal with the large battle scenes: it can make or break a fic.
3343005
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Another amazing chapter, and you say the epicness is just going to increase? Have this as a thank-you for your writing;
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3343341
Look up Ranma 1/2.
I spy that Pinkie Pie likes Ranma 1/2 ... Rainbow 1/2? Can't wait for the next chapter
It terrifies me a little that you've chosen to label the arc "The Black Wedding" - it puts me too much in mind of a certain wedding of another colour.
Also, Big Mac and his BIG MOUTH are gonna be in for it big time if AJ and Antonovka can't work things out between them. 
I completely love the Pinkie Pie and Cruciger interactions as well. Suuuuper excited to see where we're going next! 
“Pardon my fancy, but Ah gotta take a piss somethin’ fierce,”
I cracked up at this line. It took me a full two seconds to think 'Wait did she ju-Lawlawlawlawlawl'
Dammit Applejack! Honesty means no lying, not "blab every question you're ever asked"!
It's totally okay to just refuse to answer.
Pinkie was pretty much perfect though.
I laughed at this far harder than I should have.
Pinkie seems to be holding up well so far. I love this.
I love Pinkie Pie in these chapters. They really make the story for me.
I think I am going to have to dig around for the reference with Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie in that really short story with what might be an arranged marriage and the implications there of.
Huh. Turns out that the way to Cruciger's heart is through his wife, who would have guessed. Nice work, Pinkie.
Oh my god, AJ. Here's hoping her honesty doesn't land everybody in the lurch.
Bwahahahahahah! Diamond Tiara the project manager, I absolutely love it!
Ahhh, that ending with Twilight and Brass. I'm going to guess that the duel that the girls are busy trying to avoid is the one that's going to spring up when the two of them stroll into the Terre Rare camp and announce their engagement. Should be fun, especially with that "Equestria's Strongest Couple" working title.
Calling it: the thing with Antonovka is a fakeout, she thinks Twilight and Macintosh are having an affair, or some other petty scandal.
I didn't think I could love this story more and then you referenced Ranma 1/2.
I like cruciger a lot than I thought I would after reading he killed blueblood's father and every other instance of him he was either cold or demanding he is actually a good pony is nice
I like him far more than I do his son brass I'm still trying to pin down why I don't like brass exactly his personality rubs me wrong or that he is ultimately the biggest threat in the story
But it's most likely because he was shipped to twi...
Here we go!
What is this feeling?
Is it the feeling you get at the top of he first hill of the roller coaster, that feeling of anticipation of a thrill?
I do believe it is.
3343456 The words "Ranma 1/2" are enough. I couldn't get through that series and I don't think I'll ever try again.
That one guy who beat Pinkie in a drinking contest.
I swear, that guy could just drink drain cleaner straight.
3343895 Pinkie is usually my least favorite characther amongst the mane 6 but in TPC she functions as sort of the emotional conscience of the piece. And it works very well.
So we don;t get to See Twilight meeting Lady Arsenic?
Anyway I am going to have an angry if Alpha Brass turns out to be a straight villain. Like I am cool with him being an anti-hero asshole who looks out for himself, but i love him too much for rather unexplainable reasons , so I kind of want to think that he is more on the side of good than the side of evil.
Similarly I somehow think Lord Cruciger is going to go the way of " redemption through death".
I feel a lot of people will dislike this ending deriding it as too "tidy" and upbeat. But that is where Is where I see it going. And I for one am more than okay with it.
3344064
Brass's capacity to love no longer exists, or if it does, it is so stunted that it is effectively gone. As a defense against the Changelings it is... functional, but comes with the obvious side effects. Your discomfort with him is entirely understandable.
One of the first things we learn about Cruciger, when we actually meet him in person and not secondhand (secondhoof?) or via flashbacks, is that he loves his wife.
3345399
Greeeeeaaaat. Your comment made him think again. It will totally not end with most of us being bored to death
Why are you guys talking in my head more often recently?
Oh I don't know, maybe because you've stopped combining us into one collective mass of crazy and actually type down each of us individually? Learning to tell us apart obviously doesn't have any side effects.
Now I know what it feels like to be the receiving end of my sarcastic side... Also... He has something to say.
and then afterwards, it would be revealed that.. Nah, couldn't be. Chrysalis wouldn't be able to copy the unfathomable levels of magical knowledge that Twinkling Star has, not to mentio- Wait, WHY DIDN'T YOU INFORM ME THAT IT WAS MY TURN TO TALK? I just embarassed myself spouting nonsense.
But it makes sense! What if Chryssie's just spouting Technobabble?
I didn't even consider that. Maybe I should listen to you more...
Mmmmmm... giant cookies!
... I regret even thinking about listening to you. I'll just continue with my analysis of the situation.
Yeah yeah, whatever. Just, when you 'analyze', keep your thinking quiet from the rest of us.
*brohoof* /)(\
I agree so much. His thinking was so loud last time I couldn't finish reading.
I love the reference to this
Ooh, this is getting interesting. The way Pinkie's mental dialog keeps intruding into the narration fits her perfectly, and her pony-reading and party-throwing skills are finally getting used in full. (Also, LOL at the Ranma ½ reference...)
Cruciger is turning out as a nicer pony than he seemed at first. I would caution against assuming he's going to be friendly or accepting just because he's been mellowed slightly by a truly heroic amount of cider, but at least we can tell that beneath the craggy, cold and harsh exterior there is indeed a heart.
Which, in a very real way, makes him the exact opposite of his son. Alpha Brass is on the surface quite warm, pleasant and charming, but he's almost hollow inside, with a heart that is scorched ground. I just know that Twilight (who's been warming up to him considerably, even though it all started as purely a matter of reason) is going to get her heart broken.
3345178
I assume that we find more about Twilight's visit to Lady Arsenic later, in a flashback. It's way too important a scene to leave out from this story, and this way Capn_Chryssalid can spring the results of that meeting as a surprise to both the characters and the readers!
AJ... must you? Really? I mean we know the general was at least looking at her colleague in a suspicious way last chapter, but, y'know. Must you?
Pinkie is good at her job, but now I worry that Cruciger will only see that his new friend (though that's perhaps a bit strong of a term) has betrayed him. Has played him.
The cards and crusaders bit was neat but I can say that I really did not like the Ranma reference. I guess maybe it's just my historical dislike showing through.
3345178 Honestly I think Brass is already set up as an anti-hero. His goal is to stop the changelings, which I think most readers would agree is good. It's just that he's so totally committed to that one goal he's willing to throw everything and everyone by the wayside for it, which kinda holds him back from being really heroic.
yay!
Oh man, Pinkie was awesome here.
Also, ha ha, poor Pinkie's brain. Such a trooper.
Also, calling it now: Cruciger has some spell that immediately removes drunkenness and fatigue. There's no rational basis for this, I just read the line about the horizon and got a sudden premonition that Pinkie's efforts would be wasted.
I still cannot dislike Alpha. I know he loves nopony, but for now, the only way we know he's really evil is because the author says so. Cruciger is cool after a lot of cider.
3353547
Nah, it's more like engineering your progeny for superpowers (Lady Arsenic's Catoblepas eyes were arcanely-engineered to be passed on). Then have someone suggest they be given the most common superpower.
A Battle Couple indeed.
Twinkling Starlight prolly identifies ponies by magic color, which seems a bit unicorn-specific, but mayhap I lack all pieces of the puzzle.
3347779 So Alpha's a Well-Intentioned Extremist?
3354633 Yeah, that sounds about right IMO.
3347779 Is he though? because it seems to have been left purposefully vague as to whether his hatred of the changelings is as all consuming as he portrays it or if in the end it is his own lust for power that will tirumph.
I do hope you are right though because your description is exactly how I read him
3354633 assuming that the way Tnakenstein and i read him is correct yes, though a rare case where his cause is the same as ( or aligns directly with) that of our heroes.
I'd like to see some of the other cards! Who would be unknown and off the charts for strength, speed, and the other categories?
3353547
Yes.
Not gonna lie, I screamed a little bit at the Ranma reference.
Your Pinkie chapters are always a joy to read. Tangential and irreverent while remaining grounded enough to move things along.
Cruciger loves his wife, something we know Alpha Brass is incapable of. Who knows the kind of pony Brass could've been? Perhaps he took after his grandmother. He had he mane, at least.
To those saying Brass is an anti-hero, ask yourself: what would a world filled with Alpha Brass's be like? A world devoid of empathy, compassion, and compromise is not a place I would like to be. His goal of stopping the changelings may be heroic and noble, but just as good men can do evil, so can evil do good.
At the end of the day, Alpha Brass has to win, and everypony else must lose.
Not going to lie. Brass creeps me out more than a little at the point. Like so many of your characters, he's very three dimensional and developed., but he still creeps me out. I even find Antimony is less creepy.
There's still time though, still time.
"To the upper atmosphere with ye!"
Chapter 42: Even the kitchen sink...
>>>“I never got his name,” Pinkie answered, her expression serious. “But only later did I learn that he was actually just a sink, and I was too drunk to notice.”>>>
The sink later had a lurid affair with one Rainbow 'Drainpipe' Dash...
Wait... 
That is actually a thing... 
>>>“Our hearts yearn, so desperately, for peace and harmony,” Alpha Brass said, dipping his eyes before he faced into the distance again. “But harmony must be seized and peace must be won. It does not favor those who remain idle.>>>
George W. Bush took so much flak for saying essentially the same thing...
Alpha Brass = George W. Bush! It makes sense!
(Alondro watches the hate for Alpha Brass grow like a stage 4 pancreatic tumor injected with EGF... it's a biologist thing... it means the hate grew really fast.)
3381483 I should note one small error in your rationale: you're assuming Alpha Brass, the manipulative mind-controlling liar... is suddenly telling the truth.
Even Twilight, in her quasi-incapacitated state, realizes he's still hiding much.
I will trust him when he's dead at my hooves, his body sliced thin and fed to the seven-headed dogs residing in the Nome King's dungeons (random "Emerald City of Oz" literary reference from my wandering memory).
Frankly, I suspect him of planning to kill EVERYPONY of power, all Princesses included, and setting himself up as Supreme Emperor. When they're all weak from the battle with the changelings, he strikes.
Good think I'm not a being with such subtle mental powers eh? Otherwise you'd start seeing instability all over the world as I whispered into the minds of men, great and small, initiating revolt and oppression in equal measure until the entire thing came crashing down while I waited in the wings for the moment when none remained with the strength to oppose me.
Then I'd seize the Great McGuffin and the Deus Ex Machinas and rule as a horrid tyrant while pretending it was for the greater good.
Pinkie and the Brain, huh?
So Twinkling Star Light is Mordin Solus and Cruciger is Urdnot Wrex, basically.