Captive Audience
The treebrary was soon pleasantly lit on the inside. Spike was off in the kitchen, brewing up a nice big pot of tea. One of the reading tables had been cleared out in the front room near the door. That left a broad space for Twilight to set up an easel with some pre-prepared flip charts on them, hastily diagramed in cursive quill but it was pretty short notice. Seated at the table were the Creature Control team. The police officers had chosen to remain standing, no doubt as an attempt to deliver an atmosphere of authority. In a similar manner, Rainbow Dash and Applejack hovered near Twilight protectively, one of them literally. The fillies were staying hidden for now, just out of sight in the darkness of the stairwell to Twilight’s bedroom.
“I would like to address four issues tonight,” Twilight said to the crew, levitating her pointer to the issues itemized for their convenience. “One,” Twilight listed off, “The claim that Scootaloo is capable of enchanting anypony. Two, the accusation that Scootaloo or ponies like Scootaloo are eating foals. Three. The ability of ponies like Scootaloo to impersonate other ponies. And four, the claim that Scootaloo is a parasprite.”
Spike came out with a set of porcelain tea cups on a luminum tray, and laid one out for each of the ponies at the table. The police ponies waved a hoof at his offer, preferring to remain standing back at the time, as did Applejack and Rainbow Dash, who Twilight supposed sort of counted as her own symbolic ‘police’ as it were. With the ponies situated and some nice calming tea in their hooves, Twilight began her case for the continued well-being of Scootaloo and the others.
“Now on the first point, Scootaloo is incapable of enchanting anypony. I would like to remind you all that enchantment of ponies is a dangerous and forbidden magic, so I will not be demonstrating it for you today. However, I have dabbled in it at times and, um, you know...” Twilight tried to untie her tongue to keep the lecture going smoothly, but it was just so embarassing, bringing up old mistakes like that. “During the ...Smarty Pants incident,” Twilight forced herself to continue, “I learned very well how dangerous enchantment could be. And during that incident, many ponies got a taste of the... less than comfortable experience of being enchanted. So, you should be familiar with enchantment’s distinctive properties.” Without waiting for potentially embarassing comment, Twilight turned to the next sheet, turning her pointer at the drawing of a confused looking pony with swirly eyes.
“In particular, enchanted ponies, or other intelligent creatures, lose the ability to reason. It sometimes only affects very specific thought processes, but you can always find a contradiction in their reasoning. Too often that contradiction is that the pony both does, and does not want to die. Additionally, enchanted ponies begin engaging in more repetitive actions than their normal behavior, a natural side effect of warping any creature’s will. Give a creature an unnatural compulsion, and they will begin repeating themselves in all their words and actions, as a consequence of being forced to obey the compulsion. Finally, enchanted ponies can break their enchantment through clear thinking and self awareness, so enchantments must therefore enforce difficulty thinking clearly, and lack of self awareness.”
“There is only one group of ponies being enchanted here,” Twilight claimed, “And it’s neither you, nor I. Scootaloo, can you come forward?”
The filly came creeping out of the doorway, head down and eyes up. Twilight smiled at her, but Scootaloo didn’t seem consoled even by that. Even Twilight could tell that Scootaloo was scared stiff, yet trying to be brave. “Scootaloo,” Twilight said as gently as she could, “I need you to tell us a little bit about yourself. Tell us who you are and what you like to do.”
“About the mouth... thing?” Scootaloo asked with a look of dread.
Twilight shook her head, saying, “About anything. What do you like? Who you are.”
Scootaloo hesitated and Twilight was almost afraid she wouldn’t be able to say anything, but Scootaloo straightened up and looked at the other ponies saying, “I’m Scootaloo I uh... I like riding around and tricks, and Rainbow Dash is my sister and the best pony in the whole world. I want to be just like her some day. Uh, my favorite color is purple? Not like my hair, but like my favorite helmet and my eyes. Is everypony’s favorite color the same as their eyes?”
Twilight prompted Scootaloo back on track, saying, “Where do you go to school?”
“Ponyville Schoolhouse?” Scootaloo said in a querelous tone, looking up at Twilight uncertainly.
“Do you enjoy school?” Twilight asked, continuing to verbally prod the filly as gently as she could.
“Not... really,” Scootaloo said, blushing a bit and looking down, “It’s really hard and I don’t do so well, but Miss Cheerilee is the best teacher ever and she’s really nice, and I like when I get to see my friends my...” she paused uncertainly there. “My friends,” she said more firmly, “Yeah. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle... and Archer, and Bolt, and um... that’s it.”
Twilight turned to the quiet crowd saying, “As you can see, this is not an enchanted filly.” She turned back to Scootaloo saying, “Now I want you to tell me, did you feel like you could answer any of those questions while Pinkie Pie’s song was playing?”
“No!” Scootaloo exclaimed right away, her head snapping up to Twilight. She blushed then and waffled more saying, “I don’t... I mean I don’t know I couldn’t think or anything, so maybe I could, but I don’t think I could think about anything besides... following it.”
“Thank you Scootaloo. You can go,” Twilight said, letting Scootaloo scamper off zipping back out of sight to where her other... versions were crouched.
“Some enchantments are not so blatantly obvious as the parasprite song,” Twilight said, addressing the crowd again, “But it remains an excellent example of a powerful mental enchantment. As I exhibit no such behaviors, I am most likely not enchanted. You might not be able to tell if I were enchanted, but it would have to be such a subtle and not blatant enchantment, that those would be able to weave such a complex and nuanced spell are unimaginably rare. You would thus be much safer, assuming I am not enchanted until proven wrong, rather than assuming I am enchanted, until proven wrong.”
“Unless being adorable is arcane sorcery,” Twilight added wryly, “It’s safe to say Scootaloo is enchanting nopony, never has, and hopefully never will.”
Fluttershy was pulling her hoof down from having raised it for an imperceptible amount of time. Twilight called on her anyway, saying, “Yes Fluttershy? Questions?”
“Um, well,” the pegasus said in the quiet room. “I’d like to know if the kind of creature Scootaloo is um, has become, um...”
“Issue one point two!” Twilight exclaimed intently, “Scootaloo has always had wings like this. She has always lived like this. There is no evidence that anything has happened to her recently to change her to be this way. She simply hadn’t been noticed yet, until recently.”
There was silence. Twilight let out a breath and said, “Sorry Fluttershy, please continue.”
“The only creatures I know of with powers of enchantment are native to the ocean,” Fluttershy said carefully. “Is that where this cr–where Scootaloo is from?”
“I... I’m not sure, to be honest with you Fluttershy,” Twilight said hesitantly, “But if what she says is correct, I think she was born in Whinneapolis. ...does the Great Lake count?”
Fluttershy shook her head.
“Then I’m afraid not,” said Twilight with a sympathetic smile.
“It’s okay,” Fluttershy smiled back. “It doesn’t seem like Scootaloo can enchant anypony then.”
The stallion cut in with an easy voice, saying alertly, “A lot of critters are taken from the ocean as pets. A lot of times when those pets become too high maintenance they get—you know—they get rid of them. Let the city sewer system take care of it. Could this Scootaloo be something like that?”
“I believe Scootaloo is an evolutionary throwback,” Twilight answered, “That she had perfectly normal pegasus parents, who had both been carriers for an ancient precursor line to ponykind as we know it. I would need to find her parents to confirm this though, so I can’t say for sure. Anything else, you’ll have to ask her directly. While she’s been very honest with me, she is a very young filly and, her earlier memories are not very reliable to say the least.”
“Scootaloo,” Twilight called out over her shoulder, “Could you come back for a little bit? It’s not the demonstration yet, but these ponies would like to know more about your history.”
Surprisingly, Scootaloo didn’t come out, but just shouted from the doorway, “They don’t need to know anything! Ponies beat me up, so I moved. Nothing more to say about it.”
“Not about that, Scootaloo,” Twilight called over with irritation, “This is Creature Control, not Foal Services. They want to know where you came from, not what happened to you.” She paused and said, “It’ll be fine. Just come out, please? You don’t have to answer any questions you feel uncomfortable about.”
“Fine...” Scootaloo grumbled resignedly, skulking out from the doorway back to Twilight’s side. “I don’t really remember being a... ugh, a pet though.”
“Do you have any memories of living in a tank, full of water?” Fluttershy asked Scootaloo eagerly. “Do you remember anypony feeding you fish flakes?”
Scootaloo shook her head, and Twilight leaned toward the filly mentioning to her out of the side of her mouth, “She’s asking about what your other ‘yous’ remember too, if you can remember them.”
Junebug looked like she wanted to cut in, but Twilight waved a hoof at her in a quaffing motion, and looked down at Scootaloo, who was still thinking. Hopefully the filly would come up with something.
“My memories before... me aren’t good, because I was the last one too soon,” Scootaloo said uncertainly to Twilight. “So I had to... never mind,” She turned her head away in something that might have resembled shame, or sorrow.
“Scootaloo, you don’t have to...” Twilight said unhappily. “They just want to... if you aren’t comfortable you can—” But Scootaloo shook her head solidly, and did continue.
“The earliest thing I remember is before we could read,” Scootaloo said. “I might remember other things, but I don’t know if they were earlier than that. But I know we didn’t learn to read, until we were 11. I remember my fr–somepony I used to know, who was showing one of us the letters on a birthday cake. They couldn’t read the letters, but their friend was bragging about knowing all the letters. Um, I remember, because they ate too much cake and... they almost couldn’t hide, before somepony came out of them.”
“I remember a storm,” Scootaloo added, “Which feels like it was earlier, but it was still just in Whinneapolis. I don’t even know what the ocean looks like! I don’t think any of us have ever been to the ocean before.”
“So,” the cheeky stallion said, “You don’t remember ever being in the ocean?”
Scootaloo nodded.
“Are you able to breathe water?” Fluttershy asked innocently.
Scootaloo frowned thoughtfully, seriously considering her question. The filly said “No, I don’t think so, but I never tried to—” before she was interrupted by Twilight, who felt noticeably ill in snapping out the words,
“No. They cannot breathe water.” She shuddered in a breath, then said, “I have confirmed this already, with Archer.”
Nopony said anything at first, then Fluttershy turned to Twilight with a look of sudden horror, saying, “How could you?! Don’t you know how dangerous that is? You can’t experiment on ponies by testing if they drown or not!”
“I didn’t do it,” Twilight said with a wry grimace. “Pinkie Pie did.”
Fluttershy’s horror faded, and she smiled then and said, “Don’t be silly, Twilight. Pinkie Pie would never–”
“I was there!” Twilight interrupted again, her temper flaring at the ego bruising. “I saw her. She was trying to kill them! I dragged Archer out of the river! You really think I would drown a filly, but not Pinkie Pie?”
Twilight realized she had slightly raised her voice, which drove Fluttershy into total silence, hiding behind her hair fearfully. “I’m sorry, Fluttershy,” Twilight said, forcing herself to relax. “It’s just been a long day. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
Fluttershy still didn’t say anything, and it didn’t look like anypony else was going to, so Twilight turned to her flip chart and turned the next page. “Item two,” she said with a grim satisfaction, “The accusation that there is any danger of Scootaloo devouring our foals. To prove this is nonsense, Scootaloo here is going to demonstrate, by devouring a foal.”
Twilight turned forward and smiled enigmatically, as the ponies all started talking at once, except Fluttershy. “No, I’m not insane,” she told one. “No, nopony is going to be harmed,” she told another. “No, this isn’t a magic trick, well at least not sleight of hand. Yes, I am very sure of what I am doing. No, she can’t devour foals, at least not in the way you’re thinking.”
Having fielded all their questions rapid-fire, the ponies were reduced to grumbling, with the chief saying, “You even come close to harming a real foal, and I’m going to take you down so hard your granddaughters will feel it.” A real foal, heh. Hook, line and sinker.
“Archer, will you come forward?” Twilight asked sweetly. Archer poked her head around the corner of the entryway. Twilight was so very glad that these two fillies in particular were with her right now. She didn’t know if she could have shown everypony with just Archer and Licky, or with Scootaloo and Licky. She certainly wasn’t going to make Scootaloo create another filly, just for demonstration purposes! There was no need to worry about that though, because the stars of the show were all here. And, unless the universe had a burning hatred for Twilight’s reputation as a scholar and a gentlemare, everything was going to be just fine.
“I didn’t mean to alarm any of you,” Twilight said, hesitating and then adding, “Well, maybe I did a little bit. What you are about to see appears very shocking, and is not something for weak wills, or weak stomachs. While completely harmless, it may appear very differently to the untrained eye. If anypony would like to bow out now, besides Fluttershy, please do so.”
Fluttershy stopped from retreating backwards toward the library door and blushed, returning meekly to the table. Nopony else made to leave. Twilight was most worried about the police ponies, really. Creature Control was a job for those with iron stomachs, and wills. The cops only had to deal with ponies, most of the time! This was important though, and she couldn’t neglect conveying crucial information to the ponies at the table who decided whether Scootaloo lived or died.
So having warned them, Twilight began her explanation. “Yesterday, Pinkie Pie began spreading a rumor that these fillies will devour your foals, and so turn the entire foal population of our town into one giant swarm of filly-shaped parasprites. This is patently ridiculous, but it does have in it a grain of truth.” Twilight levitated the pointer to indicate on her chart her diagram that symbolically represented wrapping truth in lies. “For whatever reason she crafted that story, Pinkie Pie chose her words carefully so that her claims would appear to line up with reality. Everything she said was based on the natural behavior of these ponies, to make us think that those behaviors are dangerous, when in reality those behaviors are relatively harmless, and certainly not worthy of panic, or murder.”
Archer had finally crept close enough for Twilight to involve her, and Twilight snagged the filly in her magic, lifting Archer up beside her. “Archer here is like Scootaloo,” Twilight said in regards to the gently levitating pony. “She is what you would have called a ‘fillysprite.’ She has all the signs you have been searching for, and she was enchanted by Pinkie Pie’s parasprite song, just like Scootaloo just now. If you need proof, I can think of no better way than to demonstrate ...this.”
A certain fashion show came to mind, as Archer rotated around awkwardly, Twilight lifting up Archer’s tail and spreading her legs wide. “Twilight stop,” Scootaloo said petulantly, pushing at Twilight’s flank, while everypony else seemed paralyzed by shock, “They’ll think I’m weird!”
“Right now that is exactly what they need to think, Scootaloo,” Twilight said to her, turning to the group before they could erupt into protests. “As Archer is demonstrating here, she completely lacks reproductive organs. Or a digestive egress, for that matter. Her pelvic floor is completely solid, with articulation and musculature adjusted to account for this.” Twilight let Archer’s legs loose then, turning the filly sideways, saying, “You can also see a pair of oddly shaped wings on her back. Ponies of this kind are like pegasi, but have a significantly different wing structure, that at more than a casual glance should be easy to pick out.”
Twilight set Archer down, deliberately cancelling her horn with a hoof in full sight of everyone there. “Now I’m going to trust you all not to become violent,” Twilight said, “Because you might suspect my magic is involved here. So I’m going to be wearing this for the remainder of the demonstration.” Twilight lifted up a silvery horn suppressor. You couldn’t levitate those things without the force crumpling them, so she manually lifted it up in a hoof, and slipped it over her own horn. It was a sensation about as pleasant as stuffing socks in your ears, but Twilight wanted to be absolutely sure nopony suspected any funny business.
“Full disclosure,” she added, “I can override this thing, but only in a way that would noisily and flashily melt it into slag, at great risk to myself. So, you’ll be able to tell if I use any magic. I assume the police know how this sort of thing works...”
She looked hesitantly at Chief Drops, who thinned her lips, but nodded saying, “That sounds about right, but you really don’t need to go through such extreme measures. We haven’t needed to use a horn suppressor since the case of Mad Eye McGee more than 30 years ago.”
“Trust me,” Twilight said dourly, “This is a pretty extreme situation. It won’t take long anyway. I’ve already talked with Scootaloo and Archer about this.”
“Where did you even get that?” Chief Drops asked confusedly, waving a hoof at Twilight’s muffled horn.
“Oh, heh, I get my hooves on a lot of interesting things to experiment with,” Twilight scratched a hoof, adding, “Just one of the priviliges of my advanced studies.” That, and her teleportion ability. She didn’t mention that last part out loud.
She instead pointed her nose down to indicate the two, very nervous looking fillies.
“I said no foals were going to be devoured,” Twilight claimed, “And I also said they were going to be devoured. The reason for this is, while Archer here is a foal, you might consider her to be a creature, not a pony. This has been demonstrated, stated and proven by Pinkie Pie herself, and I’m sure the flower sisters next door can confirm it. My assumption here is that you would all object very extremely, as would I, to Scootaloo attempting to devour a foal, but since you know that Archer here is the same creature as Scootaloo, then in your eyes no foals would be devoured, and you have no objections.”
Fluttershy raised her hoof.
Twilight inwardly groaned and said, “Yes, Fluttershy?”
“Um,” she said, “I don’t know if they are real foals or not, but even if Archer really is a creature, then I would still have to object. Many creatures deserve to live too, and it’s wrong of you to kill one who is so young, even if she is your prey.” She was talking straight to Scootaloo when she said that, who looked back at her confusedly, at the mention of the word ‘prey’.
Thankfully, the uncomprehending blinking session between Fluttershy and the two fillies was something Twilight had the power nip in the bud. “That’s a very good point, Fluttershy,” Twilight cut in, “And the reason you need not object is: Archer is not Scootaloo’s prey. She’s just going to be consumed by Scootaloo. Scootaloo is not going to kill her. She’s just going to eat her.”
Junebug spoke up then saying, “You... just contradicted yourself. S-several times.”
“Here in this handy diagram I whipped up,” Twilight went on undauntedly, looking at her flip chart and... pausing. Her face twisted up in confusion. Why wasn’t the...? Oh, right. Twilight bent down and picked up the pointer off the floor, in her mouth, using it to indicate the various relevant points in her diagram.
Twilight handily explained, “You can thee the proceth by whish the fillythsprite reproducesh and feeds. They are not paraspritesh, but they do reshemble parathsprites in many ways. Here you shee foo entering the reproducshive cycle, consumedh as we would exshpect, like normal fhood. There are two branchesh in the shycle at thish point—”
“What Twilight is trying to say,” Rainbow Dash interrupted, sticking her head down from above, addressing the crowd behind Twilight, “Is that when there isn’t enough food, they can eat each other, but when there is enough food they can spit each other back out.”
There was silence.
Then there was a creaking noise, as Twilight turned her head to glare with a broad smile at the back of Rainbow Dash’s head, the bucking cheater who could effortlessly summarize Twilight’s entire lecture in a single compound sentence, rendering Twilight’s next four charts null and void.
“Yes,” Twilight said, “That’s... exactly what I’m trying to say.”
“Ah know you like lecturin’ and all,” Applejack spoke up, before anypony did something she regretted, “But it’s awful darn late, and we need answers, not book learnin’. Don’t you wanna save all that fancy stuff as a surprise for the big wigs up in Canterlot?”
Twilight sighed and looked down, feeling defeated. She really did enjoy lecturing, and there was nothing wrong with that! But... Applejack really did know her very well, and it was awfully late, and these were town employees, not awarded professors.
“Alright fine,” Twilight said turning to face the crowd again, “I was only trying to fully prepare you, so that there were no violent reactions to this. This is a perfectly normal part of their life cycle, and though it appears to be eating or devouring, I have thoroughly verified that it is anything but. It is reproduction, or deproduction and only applies to these creatures alone, not anything they eat. It’s the same orifice, but a different task. I need to show you this, because the whole basis of Pinkie’s lies is confusing ‘deproduction’ with ‘consumption’, and you need to see how they are different, if you wish to avoid being fooled by her. We were planning to show the entire town, but in reflection, this is a much better idea. You are the experts on creatures after all, and you can make the best judgement for the town of what is true.”
“Can we do it already?” Scootaloo piped up at her feet crabbily. “I’m tired, and this is boring!”
Archer frowned disapprovingly at Scootaloo, but Twilight nodded and said, “Yes, I think we’re ready for you. There’s only one more thing.” Twilight paused, and looked at Archer seriously, saying, “Archer, do you mind if Scootaloo eats you?”
“Should I?” Archer asked, glancing nervously at the attentive ponies behind the table over there. “I don’t mind, but I–I’m not used to doing it in front of so many ponies. Are you sure it’ll be okay?”
“It’ll be okay, Archer,” Twilight assured her. “Do you remember what I said about Zecora?”
Archer blinked uncomprehendingly. Twilight inwardly gave herself a self satisfied grin, saying, “I mean, do you remember what I said to Scootaloo about Zecora?”
“Oh, uh, y-yes I think so,” Archer said, scrunching up in thought. She shook her head after a bit, and apologized, “It wasn’t enough time, sorry. All I really caught was that Zecora has um, something about her stripes.”
“Pff, like I was paying attention,” Scootaloo muttered wryly.
Twilight ignored that little comment and went on, addressing both fillies. “What I said was, that it was what ponies didn’t know about Zecora that fueled their fear,” Twilight recalled. “Ponies grew much more accepting, when they knew the truth about Zecora. This is one of those times. It is shocking, and a little weird, but if you do it when we’re ready, I’m confident that we can trust you for who you are, instead of worrying about superstition and rumour.”
“Alright, Twilight I’ll um... I’ll try.” Archer said amiably. She walked over to Scootaloo, and tapped the filly so she stopped pretending to snore. Hopefully pretending.
“Do you really not mind being eaten?” Fluttershy said with a disbelieving but captivated look on her face.
Archer turned to her and smiled, saying, “No, I don’t mind. It’s actually kind of fun! Thank you for thinking of me though.” Twilight had to shake her head at Archer’s gentle demeanor. Even though she’d seen it with her own eyes, Twilight sometimes had a hard time believing that this filly came out of Scootaloo’s mouth.
“That is so fascinating,” Fluttershy uttered, leaning forward raptly and brushing away her cherry blossom mane from her eye.
“Alright, let’s just do it Archer,” Scootaloo said impatiently, grabbing Archer by her shoulders.
Archer nodded to her, saying, “That’d be nice,” in a grateful, relieved tone of voice.
Even having seen it before, twice, Twilight still found herself utterly fascinated by the process. Scootaloo once again opened her mouth impossibly wide, and Twilight observed her abdomen and throat expand, even before Archer stuck her head inside. When Scootaloo’s lips came down to Archer’s shoulders, Scootaloo lurched back, and once again the filly she was deproducing was heaved bodily into the air. Scootaloo’s eyes looked out of focus, though it was hard to tell from the distorted angle they were at. Twilight was curious just how aware Scootaloo was of her own actions at this point, if it was involuntary or semi-conscious or what.
This time it was Archer being swallowed, not Dizzie as before, though the distinction between which of them was in Scootaloo’s gut was sure to become insignificant as the process completed. Twilight couldn’t help but notice Archer’s legs move just slightly, curling neatly under her body as she descended into Scootaloo like a melting stick of butter. Twilight wondered if Archer was still self aware at this point. So many questions to ask these fillies.
Scootaloo’s lips closed around Archer’s posterior, sealing tightly shut with only the blue pony’s soft tail sticking out of her mouth. It would have been a stretch to identify Scootaloo even as a filly, at this point. As she was, she had more the appearance of an ungainly, overstuffed orange sack, but muscles all over Scootaloo’s body were tensing and quivering, and she compressed down very quickly. In seconds, she resumed enough of her original proportions to wrap her arms around her belly, and the rest of the process appeared as if she was hugging herself back into the shape of an ordinary looking filly. Scootaloo didn’t look frightened or anxious though, despite clutching herself protectively, more like relieved. Like a filly who’s just had a very satisfying meal.
Twilight watched carefully to see if there was any point when Scootaloo’s expression changed, or her eyes widened or anything, but Scootaloo just collected herself calmly after that, and stood up on her hooves again. Slurped up Archer’s tail. Wiped at her nose. “Alright, I’m done,” Scootaloo mumbled, not looking directly at any of the ponies in the room. “Now let’s do the other thing, so I can go to bed.”
Twilight herself did look at the ponies they were presenting for. The palm tree stallion was looking a little green, and one of the police ponies had fainted on the spot. Junebug was looking every which way except at Scootaloo. Honestly, the only ponies who weren’t adversely affected at the sight of that were Twilight herself, Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy. Well Fluttershy wasn’t... ...adversely affected...
“That was incredible!” Fluttershy shouted, jumping up onto the table, wings outspread. “How did you do that? Do you do that all the time? Are you too crowded? I’ve always wanted to see mice do that, but I never had the heart to crowd them. How hungry do you have to be? How many are there of you?” She trotted towards Scootaloo as she spoke, down off the table and right past Twilight. Twilight smiled fondly at the excited pegasus mare, not nearly as frightened of her as Scootaloo was. Fluttershy swept Scootaloo up into the air, drifting in circles with her at hoof length, exclaiming, “It’s just so wonderful you’re the most incredible amazing creature I’ve ever seen!”
It looked like “palm trees” whatsisface and Junebug shared Twilight’s understanding of the situation. Junebug was even rolling her eyes and mouthing out the words ‘most incredible amazing creature’ as Fluttershy said them. Applejack had a knowing look in her eyes, but maintained her position of silent support, and Rainbow Dash just crossed her arms and huffed impatiently.
Twilight couldn’t imagine how Fluttershy wouldn’t be on Creature Control, while at the same time Twilight couldn’t imagine Fluttershy had the best qualifications for the ‘control’ aspect of it. Especially considering Fluttershy’s reaction to real parasprites, which—judging from how she was lovingly nuzzling Scootaloo in mid-air, and ignoring the filly’s furious struggles—hadn’t changed much in the interim.
Twilight couldn’t help but smile though. She loved seeing Fluttershy coming out of her shell once and a while. Fluttershy really was in her own world when it came to the sea of diversity outside of the boundaries of a stable society. However nice a change as it was, Twilight was not willing to let Fluttershy drag the filly’s entire life story out of her tonight. As fascinating as that might be, and potentially vital, it was very direly late, and Twilight wanted to wrap this up as soon as she could.
“Terribly sorry, but it has gotten awfully late!” Twilight said to Fluttershy’s back, with a sly wink to Scootaloo, who was currently being hugged over Fluttershy’s shoulder like a limp ragdoll, completely boggle eyed. “We really need to wrap this up, so that these poor little fillies can get their sleep.”
Twilight smiled around at Fluttershy placatingly, if a bit pleadingly.
“The poor dear,” Fluttershy exclaimed sympathetically, swooping acroos the room as enthusiastic as she ever was, “We simply must get her to bed!”
“Yes, yes,” Twilight agreed curtly, with both hooves on Fluttershy’s chest, pushing Fluttershy back from her impulsive flight to leave the front lobby without another thought, to drop Scootaloo off in what looked like it was going to be Twilight Sparkle’s own bedroom. “There is just one more thing,” Twilight urged, “Before I can let you all retire for the night, peacefully and calmly. It’s very important, because it’s probably why Pinkie Pie thought up all those crazy stories in the first place.”
“Oh, okay Twilight,” Fluttershy said, giving Twilight a serious look with her one visible eye. “You certainly have convinced me. I don’t know about the rest.”
“Just trust me on this,” Twilight drawled, “You’ll all sleep a lot better at night if we do this one last thing.”
Fluttershy set Scootaloo down, the filly swaying drunkenly in place as she did. Fluttershy gently patted Scootaloo’s head, then seemed to think better of it. Then she flew back to her place behind the table, sitting quietly.
“You’ve seen the worst of it,” Twilight suggested ominously, “So I think we can cut straight to the demonstration. Scootaloo?”
Scootaloo faced away from Twilight and stood there, staring off into space. Twilight started to get a little nervous. “Scootaloo?” she prompted again.
“I’m trying!” Scootaloo snapped tensely. “It’s just—it’s hard with ponies watching.”
Fluttershy perked up at that, and her voice was clear in the silence of Scootaloo’s consternation. “Twilight, excuse me,” Fluttershy said, “Do you have a big blanket I could borrow?”
“Well, there’s the one on the guest bed,” Twilight said uncertainly. “Why, you mean like a security blanket?”
“Something like that,” Fluttershy said, then nodded slowly with a smile.
“Alrighty then,” Twilight said agreeably, lighting up her... right.
“Scootaloo, could you hold on a bit?” Twilight craned down and asked the filly. “I need to get a blanket for Fluttershy.”
Scootaloo sat back on her haunches and started blushing deeply, saying, “Sorry Miss Twilight, I just... sorry.” She trailed off into a mumble.
“You just take your time,” Fluttershy cooed over at the filly. “We’re not here to hurt you. Twilight thinks this is important, and she surely has a good reason.”
“No, it is important,” Scootaloo said with an agitated tail twitch. “It’s just that it’s kinda embarassing. I’m not used to– I mean—”
“Would it help if you ate something?” Twilight asked, halfway out of the room. She didn’t wait for Scootaloo to reply, saying, “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. The pantry should be unlocked. I’d avoid the quackers, though.”
Scootaloo snickered behind her. Smiling, Twilight went into the back of the library. She wasted no time in retrieving the blanket from the cool, quiet interior, returning to the front feeling fascinatingly awkward with how she had to brace it in her teeth and drape it over her back to carry it. She released it with a flourish, whereupon Fluttershy caught it in her... wings. Scootaloo hadn’t returned yet, so Twilight went to check on her just in case. She was sure Scootaloo didn’t want to spoil her chances any more than Twilight did, but it never hurt to be careful.
“You alright back here?” Twilight asked hesitantly. Scootaloo looked fine, if a little... stretchy. Twilight certainly didn’t need to stretch as far as that to reach the faucet, which Scootaloo was currently using to pour herself a glass of water. It was adorable how small fillies were sometimes, even if Scootaloo wasn’t quite as small as she perhaps should have been. Over on the table, there was a half eaten bag of butter crunch cookies. It looked like Scootaloo had things under control.
“I’m fine, I sleep over at Sweetie’s all the time,” Scootaloo said to Twilight matter-of-factly, cradling the glass of water against her chest.
Twilight tilted her head slightly, leading her on with “So, that means...?”
“Well, she has a kitchen,” Scootaloo explained. “And a sink. So I know all about this stuff.” She took a long drink.
Twilight nodded solemnly, pushing back the troubling thoughts that brought up, then walked over to check on the ponies in the front lobby. She poked her head out of the kitchen, and snorted at what she saw out through the hall. “I think they’re ready for you, Scootaloo,” Twilight Sparkle said, with an ironic twist in her voice.
Scootaloo hesitantly looked out the door to the kitchen, then ventured down the hall toward the front room, with Twilight closely behind. Somehow Fluttershy had even convinced the police ponies, and they all were clustered closely together, huddled underneath the pink blanket that had been on Twilight’s guest bed, a few luminous eyes peeking out from underneath it.
“Well, I don’t see any ponies here, Scootaloo,” Twilight said playing along, “I guess that means we’re all alone here!”
“Heh heh, yeah...” Scootaloo said unconvincingly. “Alright, I can do this...” she added, solely to herself. Twilight didn’t move a muscle to interrupt her. The filly was still confounded, it seemed, but then she lifted a hoof and stuck it down her throat. Her eyes bugged out and she pulled it out, giving a few tense, distressful hurks. Her gut actually rippling a few times before contracting sharply, a large bolus erupting out of Scootaloo’s mouth, her mouth—for a moment—once again, open to an unusual degree.
Twilight hadn’t exactly been of a mind to observe it closely the last time, being that it was literally possible to miss it if you blinked. But when paying attention, Twilight had a keen ability to retain very fine details. What came out of Scootaloo’s mouth was presumably Archer, though it looked more like a gooey blue hairball, if cats could throw up hairballs as large as their entire body, that is. There was actually enough force in the process to send it flying a few feet, whereupon it hit the ground wetly. Whatever water and cookies Scootaloo had consumed had been instantly converted into this bizarre amorphous substance.
It really did kind of look like a parasprite throwing up.
Once the bolus landed, it shifted about like the living thing that it was. Archer’s mane and tail emerged as if she had been tightly curled up, and her body swiftly unfolded, like a cork out of a wine bottle. She appeared to be absorbing whatever fluid was in contact with her as she stood up, though any discarded splatters not in contact with her remained. It was impossible to verify visually whether her fur emerged from the substance, or whether it became fur itself.
Twilight blinked, and it was over. She looked nervously at the mysterious pink blanket creature, lurking there near the entrance to the library, completely still. Then she looked back at the fill(y/ies). Scootaloo was watching Archer pensively, and it was actually Archer who was the one to address the crowd. Archer turned to them with a weak smile, lifting a hoof and going, “Tadaa.”
Twilight facehooved. She had clearly overemphasized the performance nature of this demonstration to the fillies, way too much.
“In conclusion,” Twilight said slowly, drawing her hoof away from her face, “These fillies reproduce like parasprites, but they are much more complex in that they deproduce, apparantly in times of resource scarcity, and that they are fully intelligent, with a full, if somewhat colored spectrum of emotions. The story that they devour foals is false, and is based on the fact that when they deproduce it looks like they’re devouring foals, but in fact they’re only doing it with each other. This deproduction process is so different from the act of eating or devouring, that they somehow retain the information about the ones who have been eaten, and can fully reproduce the original filly, given enough to eat to account for the difference, or recovery.”
Picking up the presentation pointer, “Nofony is dying,” Twilight emphasized, on a point-by-point basis. Her very last chart, in fact. “No foals are disaph– hold on.”
Twilight spat out the presentation pointer and reached up with a hoof, carefully sliding off the horn suppressor. She had to be careful, because at her level, when her magic rushed back, the significant spatial distortion bowing the air around her horn, could possibly damage this fragile horn suppressor. It did not damage it however, because Twilight is a very careful pony. Placing it on the reading table, she raised the pointer in her eager magic, repeating herself more clearly this time.
“Nopony is dying. No foals are disappearing. Nopony is being eaten. Pinkie Pie is seriously disturbed. End of story.” Twilight was particularly proud of her 21.2 second sketch of Pinkie Pie there, complete with curly mane and scribbled frowny face.
“Any questions?” she added, facing them with a sweet smile.
Scootaloo spoke up crabbily. “Can we please go to bed now?”
“An excellent question, Scootaloo,” Twilight said pertly. “I think the answer depends on Fluttershy. She does have your blanket, after all.”
The pony blanket amalgam sprouted a bulge in it, as if a pegasus underneath had just flown up into the air saying, “Oh my gosh I’m so sorry!”
“I had a question,” Rainbow Dash said, fluttering to the ground by Scootaloo. “Were you really more embarrassed to spit Archer out, than you were to swallow her?” she asked the filly, seeming understandably bewildered by what she saw.
“Well, it’s!” Scootaloo said in protest, her words cutting off, as she actually formulated her answer, “Well, it’s messier when she comes out! Now I have to clean it all up. And it’s weird and gross and doesn’t feel good.”
“I’ll take care of the cleaning, Scootaloo,” Twilight assured the filly. “I should be thanking you for providing fluid samples for study! Ohh gosh I have to go get some pipettes. Everypony wait here and–”
“Hold on,” Chief Drops said, standing up after Fluttershy had risen off of them with the blanket. “I think there’s no reason for our presence any longer. You and Creature Control can work everything out on your own. That being said, how are we supposed to get out of here? You have the whole place shielded!”
“Eheh,” Twilight grinned nervously, “Yes I’ll get that right away, one moment.” She shot a beam into the shield and slid her horn signature into the control interface, decoupling the mana conduit and enabling the collection siphon. As such, when her shield ‘shattered’ it did not so much fall into wasted shards as it faded out, like a diminishing light. “I think it safe to say we don’t need that thing in place,” Twilight said happily. “The advantage of an unruly mob, is you get to resolve everypony’s problems all at once!”
Drops blinked at her. “The shield is down,” Twilight said flatly, “Everyone may leave as they will. I assume Rainbow Dash will be helping me with her sleepover between Scootaloo, Archer and... where’s Licky anyway?”
There was a crashing sound from Twilight’s bedroom, along with the faint sound of Spike’s voice shouting, “Licky, no!”
“Alright, I’m going to make the bed,” Rainbow Dash said in a ‘not-it’ sort of fashion. “I think Fluttershy needs some help... looks like she thinks the bed is in the bathroom.” Indeed, Fluttershy emerged from it blushing, standing with the pink blanket neatly folded on her svelte posterior. Scootaloo glanced at Archer, who gave a sharp nod and ran for Twilight’s bedroom heading quickly up the stairs from whence she came.
The police were already making their way out—well, Chief Drops was at any rate, dragging the unconscious bodies of her two deputies behind her by the tails.
“Can we talk with Scootaloo tomorrow?” the palm tree stallion said eagerly, trotting up to Twilight. “We really want to find out about what kind of creature she is!”
“I don’t see why not,” Twilight said agreeably, “I have to warn you though, the answer to that question is up to Scootaloo.”
“Right now I just want to sleep,” Scootaloo said stiffly, but reluctantly added, “But I guess they can, if they’re cool about it.”
“I-I’d really appreciate it,” Junebug said to the filly. “E-even if you are the only one. Ones. Twos?”
“The only ones,” Junebug decided on, stammering, with a blush, “O-of your kind, I mean.”
“Yeah, okay,” Scootaloo said dimly, with a distant look in her eyes. “I don’t know anypony else like me, so... yeah.”
Junebug smiled and trotted out of the library followed by the palm tree stallion, who never had introduced himself, after all that.
With Fluttershy busy with Rainbow Dash, that just left Applejack. Twilight looked at the orange mare who was her friend, who’d been so supportive all this time. She was still standing there at ready to defend Twilight or the fillies, an protective expression on her face with the brim of her hat turned down. Applejack was so admirable. She really did embody everything you’d want in a good friend. “You going to stand there all night?” Twilight asked her in a bit of a smarmy tone. When Applejack didn’t answer, Twilight repeated her question. What she got in response, was a soft, almost unnoticeable snore.
After Applejack charged off in embarassment, Fluttershy, also made herself scarce, the two of them retreating to their own soft warm beds in various parts of town. With everypony out of the library, and Twilight seriously considering getting a physical lock, for a door to a public library, she went back to check on Rainbow Dash and the three fillies. Spike was long gone to dragon dreams in his favorite little basket bed. Archer and Scootaloo were both cradled on either side of Licky, singing her to sleep in that peculiar fashion of theirs. Twilight carefully lifted the three of them with a cushion of powered air, and Rainbow Dash eased them gently onto the bed, made crisp and clean thanks to Fluttershy, but soon rumpled and homey as the fillies made themselves comfortable wrapping up in the blankets and sheets.
Dash didn’t go to bed right away, instead pulling Twilight into the hall away from the fillies. “I did have one more question,” Rainbow Dash whispered to her. “It’s kind of... I wasn’t sure if I should say it in front of everypony. I didn’t want to mess you up, I mean, your lecture, but I mean, you should know this.”
“What is it, Rainbow Dash?” Twilight asked feeling some amount of honest concern at the uncertain demeanor of the rainbow pegasus.
“I don’t like to make a big deal about uh... ‘it’ you know,” Rainbow Dash said, tapping her forehooves together nervously. “But I mean, I heard what Pinkie Pie was saying. I saw her acting like that, like how she did, and all.”
“Yes?” Twilight prompted the nervous pegasus.
“Twilight,” Rainbow Dash said tensely, “Pinkie Pie wasn’t lying.”
“About what?” Twilight said in confusion, “She had to be lying about–”
“About everything!” Rainbow hissed loudly, with a nervous wing twitch. She was clearly agitated about this. “Everything she said, she really did mean... I mean, she wasn’t trying to trick us at all. She was being totally honest the whole time!”
“I don’t understand,” Twilight whispered back loudly, and equally agitated now. “She has to be lying! We proved her wrong!”
“I um...” Dash glanced around, leaning closer to Twilight and saying, “I don’t really know if I want to sleep with those fillies again. I mean, you never know.”
“It’s perfectly safe, Rainbow Dash,” Twilight reassured her insistently. “Just think how devastated they’d be, if they thought you were afraid to sleep with them!”
“But... yeah, but... but...” Rainbow Dash countered haltingly, “If they’re so safe, then how could Pinkie not be lying?”
Twilight smiled at her friend, resting a calming hoof on her shoulder. “Pinkie Pie may not be lying,” she said gently, “But that doesn’t mean Pinkie Pie isn’t completely wrong. If you are right and she is being sincere, then that opens up a number of troubling implications, chiefly being who told Pinkie Pie that story and how did they convince her it was true? What she was saying is provably, demonstrably false. You know it, as much as I do. I can confidently tell you that I know you’ll be in no danger whatsoever of those three fillies. Scootaloo loves you, Rainbow Dash.”
Both Twilight and Rainbow Dash blushed hotly when those words spilled out of Twilight’s mouth. She probably shouldn’t have said it that way. But the fact remained that Scootaloo would hurt herself, before she let Rainbow Dash get hurt. Even if she could hurt Rainbow, there’s no way in Tartarus that the filly, or any progeny of hers, would do such a thing. She never had before, and she never will.
“You’re right, Twilight,” Rainbow Dash said tensely. She forced her wings to relax, lifting her head and looking Twilight with those deep magenta eyes. “You’re a really great friend, you know that?” Rainbow Dash said to her with a small smile.
Twilight broke their gaze first, curling a hoof up as if to rub the blush out of her face. “You too, Rainbow Dash,” she said tenderly. “Now let’s both get to bed, without any regrets okay?”
Rainbow Dash grinned and nodded, spinning and darting back into the guest room. Her “look out below!” could be heard to the tune of three screaming fillies about to be cannon-ball-bedded. Twilight just rolled her eyes and headed wearily on up to bed. Despite her nap earlier today, she was already weary enough for a full night’s sleep. Soon with her warm comforter around her chin, and the heat from a special little assistant warming the foot of her bed, Twilight slept better than she had in days.
Too bad just a hoofful of hours later, still some time before the sun rose, Rainbow Dash was pulling Twilight out of bed, and shaking her violently, declaring “Twilight! Help!!”
“What? What’s... Rainbow, what—” Twilight said confusedly, hooves tangled in her rumply blankets.
“It’s the fillies!” Dash exclaimed to her face, “I did the best I could do, but but they keep getting out and I don’t know how! You gotta do something!”
“Rainbow Dash, what happened?” Twilight shouted back to her, “What about the fillies? What’s going on?”
“Just listen!”
As soon as she listened, Twilight wished she hadn’t. Her irises narrowed as the familiar sound of a one pony marching band drifted jovially through her ears.
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GODDAMMIT PINKIE!
Oh buck, PINKIE. WHO THE HECK GAVE PINKIE PIE AN ACCORDIAN?
The forcefield is your friend, Twilight. Particular when pink party ponies go psychotic.
that stupid bitch! why can't she just go to the loony bin where she belongs!
It was the Damned Police!! that Ass hat that passed out. And well, its Pinky Pie she breaks physics, I doubt she'd have a hard time breaking out of jail.
Ģ̶̣̻͔̭̜͇͍̹̫̙̦̙͙͚̬͓͈̞́ͅO̗̟̙͔͓͎̱͈̬̫͖̘̺͈̭͓̪͇͘̕͟͡D͉͓̖͚̲̝͔̞̝̣́͟͟D̵̯̪͔͔͖͕̬̥̕À̸̛͇̣̥̹͍M̷̧̹͉̼̮̪͚͈̹̪͚̮̮̗̹̀͞M̷̰̭̖̹͙̠̻̩͚̞̼̟͝ͅI̷̞͔͙̱͕̫͎̕͢͢͢T̶̢̛̛͔͔͕͎̻͈̼͔͇̘͈̭̳͞ ̨͖̘̱͙̲͚͉̬̥́P̶͏̣̘̯̯͉͉͖̪͓̭̦̘̟͖͚͙ͅI̴͉̦̠̙̹̳͘ͅN͏̵͔̬̲͓̟͇͍͇͕͙͖Ķ̡̧̠̲͔̞̬͖͇́͘ͅI̻̞̟̟̭̦̩͎̤̱̝͖̤̺̬̲̤̲͉͘͟͝E̸̘͕̭̪̦̝̞̬̜̘̣͜ͅ!̷̷̰͈͚̘̩̠͈͇͔̰͢͞!҉̡̝͇̫̫̪̞̼̜̬͠
ş̈̏ͯ͊͐̓̒̾͠҉̭̲̘̭̣̹̗ĥ̨̯̖̳̣͎͍͑͑̐̓̒ͤ͂ͨͨ̓̂ͪ͂͟ẻ͈̘̺̺͎̬͆ͥ̽̔̆͗̏̽ͨ̄ͮͯ͌̐̈͌ͥ͑́͞ ̴̸̛̝̖̩͕̋ͨ̃̑̋ͩ̌ͣ̀̓̔̑̔ͬ͊̿ͨ̊̚s̸̨̥̥̳̱̞̟̙̤̥͉͕͎̖̞̑̄́͊ͪ͐̇̏ͯ͐ͭ̏́ͯ̋̒͂̀͠ͅh̢̻̘̩͌̆ͦͧͧ̔́̿̈ͬ̐͂̂̓͐͗́ͅo̷̧̻̫͈̻͉̝̣̮̩̺̩̞̦̺̺̗͇̿ͮ̽ͧ̆̌͒̆̌̚̕͘͠ų̷̴̫̠͎̭͖͉͉̮̱̻̩͔̈́̒̐̿̅̑͌͌ͭ̈́l̴̳̝͉̝͈͉͇̩̟̽̓̿́ͯ͋̄̐͂̎̾̑̾̀̎̕͝d̷̉ͣ̑͒͂ͯ̄ͣ̾͊̄̆ͣ͌̃ͮͨ̌͝͡҉̩͖̪̺͍͙̖̠̳͓̣̳̻̖͈͓ͅ ̨̱̪̤͎̗̞͖̺̿̉͐̓̾̇ͮ̽̀ͅb̌ͮ͗̇̓̅̍ͭͩ͗̑ͪ̓̅͐͒ͤ͞͠͏̴̣̦̖̩̹̘͚͚̝͙̺̣͕̦͖̻̲ͅę̸̫̰̦̝͓ͫ̐̆͒ͣ̆ͩ͒̇̌̾ͤͧ ̶̵̡̺̝͚̣͕̻̲̲̻̒ͤ͒̑ͬ̇̾͗̽̾ͭͦ͋͌͟ͅļ̶̳̯͇͎͔̦̤̱̳͍͔̭̫̲̹͉̫̒ͧ̇ͤͯͦͦͥ̈́ͪ̋ͨ̋͊̂̀͠͡o͆ͨͨ̄͊͂̋ͧ̑̿̒͏̸̡͈̮͙͉̰̳̞̫̲̤̯̪͘c̛̺̫̳͔̙͐͌̂̒̽ͦ̅ͫͧ́k̀ͧ̄ͧ҉̴̜͍͉͖̜̦̩̺̞̝̗̰́͝e̸̡̞̠͎̰̫̻͓̮͔͉̙͈̻̞̘̞̞̻̎̉̐ͪ͐̔̉͗́͘͢ͅḍ̨͕͓̰̪̤̮̩̠͈̳̲̻̩͓͓ͪ̎̓ͩ̄̊̓̑̾̃̂͗͗͌͟͡ ̮̰̦͔̪̟͈͖͎̘͍̓͂̀͋̌̑̔̄ͮ̋̊̍͝u̵͂͌͂̍ͮ͜͝͏̯̬̩͕͈̺͇̗͚̦̮ͅp̷̽̆ͧ͑҉̥͖̳͚̤̤͙͖͚̝̙̘͚̼̝ ̈́͆ͧ͂̅̓ͦͫ̏̓̾ͣ̎͌͊̈͏̠͖͉̼͈̯̪̙̞͉̮̣̮̪̗̦̤̝u̡̨̗̝̺͈̺̹̝͍̩̣̮ͥ̍ͬ̃̋̄̏ͫ̽́͘n̴̫̗̞͖͇̻͓͛̒ͨ̄͋̃͡͞d̓̍̎͛̆̔̄̏̾ͩͭ̂̒̾ͦ̐̔ͧ҉̹̲̻̳̹̀͝e̛̫̬̺̯̖̳̱̙̰͔͕͇͓͚̱̊͂̇̽ͤ̋̽̃ͥ̅ͥ̎̈̎̋̓̇̕͠ŗ̸͔̻͕͇̯̐͂͊̓ͫ̓́ͪ͊̿ͥ̐͒͆̈ͯ̓͆͜ͅ ̡̜̭̳̝̄̂̈́̅ͫ̎̽̇͋̽̊̌̄͋ę̷̤̻̪̦̜̣͓͈̩̹͕͍̝̆ͯ̊̆ͣ̉ͤ͆̿̂̃̋ͨ͢ͅv̸͔̫̗̟̮̙͔̣͎̫̖ͮ̑̈̑̒̄̒ͫ̿ͫ̏̔͊̚͜e̸̛̙̻̥͔͙̗͙̞̫͓ͩ̎̉̔̊̓ͥͦͨ͜͡ŗ̸̨̱͚̤̹͉̰̮̥̥͈̘̥̙̦̓̒̾͐̆̌͋̽͋ͩ̔̈͌ͦ̒̅ͩ̽͟͞ͅy̧̨͆̋̏͑̋̔̔ͦ̓ͯ͑͌̉̋ͦͧͫ̕͡͏̥̜͙̹̣̳̟̝͓̙̼̩̝̭̰ͅ ̨̂̊̋̔͐̉͒͂̎ͯ̓͢҉̛̮̞̮͖̘̤̝͕͔̞̪͕͈̲̗͎͜ḿ̨̜͎̠͔͕̠͖̫͓̬̮̹̤̜̓̃̾̓̏͌͗̕͜͝a̶̡̨͔̖̥͎̜̠͔͍̺̬͎̪͙̥̫͖̯̠͐̾ͯ͐̆͐͊̍̉̊͂͌͋̐ͤ̈́͘g͊̓͐̔͑̋͊͝҉̠̫̮̦̫̥͈̭͚̜̬͠i̶̛̺̠͔̦̓́ͤ͐ͪ̆̄̀͟ͅc͑ͫ͂̎̑ͨ͑̅̂ͦ̈͐́̀͊ͦ̚͘͏̰͕͙͕̻̮̱͎̰͇̭̜̤̞̜̼ä̞͙͓̳͇̗̮̼̙̖̰̞́͋̋̉ͭ̐́͝l̯̪̟͓͎̝͇̩͎͚̭̭̯͉̼̿͒̂ͤ͐͐̔ͪͦͮ͒̌̅͆̇͂̾ͥ͜͟͞ͅ ̠͍̭̥̞ͮͤ̆̄̅̀s̘̘̘̭̼̥͙̤̲̘̓̌̏̂̉̒͐̾͡e̐̽̊̽̐̎ͭ̊̽̇͊ͯ͠͏̛̞̝̙̩͓̻̖̞̤̳̭͔̳͎̥a͒̎̓ͣ͌́ͪ̌̃̑ͣ̇̊̈̿͏̷̘̦̩͍͎̫̭̥̠̜̩̦͕͕̬̹͇͇l̄̍̿̐͏͏̵̩̩̱̘̯̺i̢̽͐̑́̈ͩͧ͐͛̀͂ͣͦ̌͛͑̂͗͟͏̨̥͉̺̣ͅn̡͙̣̱̹̼͍͚ͥ͑̈̓͘gͪͪ̈̊͑҉̸̛̛̖̯̼̝̱̺͢ ̛̹̥͕̳͍͔̯̓͂ͫ̐́͘͝s͕̝̟̰̤̠̗̱̗̘̣̗͍̫̣͚̳̓̍ͩ̒ͨ͊̏͒̓̚̕͜͟p̴̃ͬ̈̌̈̾́̉ͬ̄ͫͤ̋̄̅͏͇̳̠̣͕̩͚̫̮̝̭̪̘̼̠͍̗ę̛̯̥̻͉̗̘̌̾͊̒̔̏ͪ͊̽͂͂͒ͯ̚͡ͅlͣ̇̃̍҉͏҉̰̟̣͙̤̻̭̭͇̠̻̥̱͎l̷̜͎͕̬̼͓̥̠̤̞̱̦̖͍̂̀ͣ̍͋̍̉̈̈̀͜ ̶̢͕̫̤̣͇͈̫ͧ̒̈́̐̓̔ͪ̌̃ͬ͌͌̓ͣͥ̍̍̍ͅͅț̷̼͖̻͔̯̘͍͚̘͙̳̰̞̘͖͔͔͈ͦͩ͒̊̒͢ḧ̨̹͍̠̟̣͇̰͓͉̮̳̹͎̩̰́̽͊ͣ͌ͤ͡ͅe̸̢̜̮̩̱͖̩͇͎̬̬͖̭̟̠̳̊͊͆͌ͫͣ͆ͨͧ̐ͮͩ̂͛͊ͨ͢ͅŗ̄́͗ͤ̀͌̓ͮͤͦ̇̾̆͊ͪͤ̔̓͏͙̘̦̭͈̪̺̲̲͍̲̤͟ě̶̷̛͋͑̈́̇̌̾͏̲̳̳͔͔̝͇̼͓̩̝̯̠̜ ̧͉̤͓̜̳̲͖͙͍̼̥̙͍̪ͨͭ̒̀̒͒ͮ̿̃̈̚̕͘͟͞ͅį̷̘̭̝͕̠̞͚̭̥̳̜̍̎̓̎̾̽ͧ̿̉́̃̂͐̇͗͆͐͟͢͡s̶̘̪̲̯̄̔ͮ͆̓̈́̎̈́͆ͧͧͭ͑ͥͣ̈͟
This story just keeps getting more intense every chapter.
Just curious, though, how many more chapters do you plan to make the story?
5787996
The chapter after next appears to be wrapping things up pretty nicely. I am almost finished, I think.
PINKIEEE
!!
5788151 aww I'm gonna miss this when its finished, but what a great ride.
Is it reeeeeealy Pinkie Pie? [Dramatic Music] Or... is it the one who told Pinkie the story? *Gasp*
5788151 All right.
Can't wait to see how everything comes to a head.
I knew it was a mistake the instant she dropped the shield and left it down. Either the mob was coming back or Pinkie was. There was no other possible outcome, from a narrative point of view.
I hate it when protagonists do stupid things... in this case there's really no excuse for such an oversight.
Will you please explain why the hell you keep referring to the number 4 as 10?
6587907 I'm pretty sure it's a joke. Ponies don't have ten finger- they have four hooves. Thus, their counting system goes by four. It's called the quaternary numeral system.
why is rainbow dash nervous about the fillies now?