dC/dt ≠ 0

by I Thought I Was Toast

Night of the Living Changelings (Twilight) Part 1

Changing Times’ Notes: In hindsight, it is rather odd. I didn’t realize it at first, but there was always a sort of lull in the changeling paranoia around the holidays – even in the more problematic cities – and I can’t help but wonder the reason why. Perhaps ponies merely wanted something to celebrate – a break from the fear, if you will. Or maybe we weren’t as afraid as we seemed. Who knows? It is not the sort of question I can survey ponies with and expect an honest answer.

I like to think, however, that the darker stories of what went on outside of Ponyville were perhaps exaggerated.

Make no mistake. I am, by no means, attempting to excuse the hysteria of the Stablem changeling hunts or other events of that ilk. There were and still are some problem cities where changelings can’t afford to walk around openly, but there is a chance that maybe – just maybe – the original number of such cities was a bit of a misnomer.

Wishful thinking, I know, but everytime I see the ease with which Ponyville has adapted, I can’t help but feel shame with how long it took so many of us.

Night of the Living Changelings: A Report by Princess Twilight Sparkle of Equestria

Nightmare Night: the most changeling holiday of the year. It’s a day we all don facades and disguises – a day we briefly escape from our own lives to act out the lives of others. Well, at least some of us act the part. There are an admittedly large amount of foals just in it for the candy, but I stand by my point.

Once you pick a costume, you should commit to it. Once you pick a bluff, you play it out.

Wicked Smooth looked at his reflection and sighed. “I can’t believe you talked me into this, Twilight….”

Poofy pants. Long, flowing cape that blew in the nonexistent wind. A floofy, pillow-like hat with a small crown resting on top. All of it in shades of dark grey and navy. He looked like a superhero reject.

“Come on, Mo.” I couldn’t help but giggle. “It’s a perfectly natural costume for Nightmare Night.”

Glancing over his shoulder at my own reflection, I scrunched my face. “Besides, you aren’t the one who needs to dye their coat. You didn’t even need to have Rarity make a costume! So, you have noling to blame but yourself.”

My coat gleamed with a pure, radiant white—no dye should have been able to emulate. It reeked with a particularly sterile odor as Rarity – upon hearing our costume choices – had squealed like a teenage banshee, before forcing me to take her industrial strength dye and bleach.

“Ve suppose that is true,” Morpheus hummed. “However, it was your idea to do this in the first place. Quite frankly, everything that happens tonight is your fault.”

“And what do you mean by that? I thought you’d appreciate me being so proactive about selling our relationship to everypony,” I pouted as I checked if my new red mane was dry enough for curlers.

There was a rhythmic drumming sound as Mo clenched the holes in his legs open and closed beneath the illusion of Wicked. “Oh, merely that your choice of a couple’s costume is just begging Mother to feed you a poison apple.”

“Snow White and Prince Charming are a classic!” Clipping the curlers into place, I began levitating my dress over. “Statistically speaking, it’s also one of the most common couple’s costumes between the popularity of the story and the lifetimes of circulation it has.”

“Ve’re aware of the math,” Morpheus sighed. “That doesn’t mean we’re not asking for trouble.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that you worry too much?” I came up to hug him from behind, smiling at both our reflections. “Weren’t you the one who said Chrysalis is playing both sides? What would she possibly have to gain?”

Morpheus rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t need to be Mother. House Antipathy is famous for its use of poisons and elixirs.”

“Worrywart.”

“Says the pot.”

I huffed. “Well, at least I’ve learned to relax! Come on! You’ve been teaching Applejack and Rainbow Dash nonstop recently! Let me teach you how to have fun!”

He coughed – refusing to look me in the eye. “Yes, well, I am responsible for their current issues with spontaneous sensory overload. Webber at least managed to make a filter for them that’ll diffuse the raw incoming data, but that’s only really a stop gap measure until I can teach them full control.”

“Yet you won’t take the time to teach me?” I whimpered. “You haven’t even taken me on one of our ‘dates’ for the past two weeks.”

He turned to look searchingly into my eyes for a few moments. “Have I ever told you that you’re scarily good at that for a pony?”

“Good at what?” I laughed.

He bit his lips for a moment. “That. You’re terrifyingly good at that.”

I giggled. “Well, I was taught by the best.”

He hummed. “Yes… Celestia does seem to be quite the expert at the game.”

I gave another squeeze. “And you!”

He sighed again, finally smiling. “And me…. Alright... between the two of us we should be fine, and I suppose we can’t back out now, anyways. You almost done?”

“All that’s left is some cheating!” I beamed, lighting up my horn. A small time dilation spell finished the curling in record time, and those cantrips of Rarity’s got rid of the awful smell of dye and bleach. Meanwhile, a quick teleport seamlessly transported my dress onto me – both the simple white blouse and the wine-red skirt. “Done!” I nudged Morpheus from in front of the mirror to look at the finish product.

“Hmm…” My face scrunched as I eyed my reflection. “I don’t know…. Feels like it’s off somehow.”

“It’s perfect….” Morpheus whispered.

“Huh?” I glanced over to find he’d gone glassy eyed.

“Snow White:” he droned, “a mare with a coat as white as fresh fallen snow and a mane and tail the crimson color of apples straight from the tree. Her curls are so perfect as to sing an angelic choir as the wind passes through them. All you’re missing is the vermillion lips, but you aren’t one to need mascara anyways.” He blinked, his eyes coming back into focus. “G-good job. It’s the perfect manifestation of you as Snow White.”

I squinted at him. “Don’t you go lying to me. You’re stuttering, so I must have messed something up.”

His coat went from grey to black in a way I’d never seen before. “Well… if you’re asking about inaccuracies, it’s usually Prince Charming who’s the alicorn and Snow White who’s the earth pony—”

“I told Rarity that mattered!” I puffed my chest out.

“—but I prefer things as they are.”

“Oh….” I exhaled.

He hesitated, biting his lips again. “If you were going as an earth pony, you wouldn’t be going as you. It would be a lie. This guise you’re wearing – right here and now – reflects who you are even as you hide behind it. Ick k’re-t’ched.”

I quickly conjured my annoyingly limited dictionary on Chi’tri and flipped through the pages. “‘It’s—’ Huh… I don’t seem to have that other word. Morpheus?”

He started. “Huh?”

“What’s ‘k’re-t’ched—’” I stumbled over the word, “—mean?”

His coat darkened further – no longer grey nor black, but now akin to the void between the stars themselves. “Oh, uh… it’s a variant of great.”

“Well, thanks then!” I smiled, taking note of the word in my notebook. “That’s always nice to hear. I guess I’ll just have to leave my costume as is,” I giggled, twirling around in my dress. “You look pretty ‘k’re-t’ched’ yourself.”

“T-thanks!” Morpheus gave a huge grin, following me out of the dressing room.

“Any idea what Spike’s going as? He wouldn’t tell me.”

I pranced through the halls Castle had spent weeks getting just right. The crystal composing nearly every facet of the place had slowly morphed in coloration to be a combination of charcoal and dusky orange. Flickering candles floated about in small swarms – the only source of light unless one asked nicely – while Castle had relocated all the spiders from their hiding spots within the walls such that their webs now draped down from above.

Morpheus calmly followed, casting his gaze about the decorations. “Spike didn’t mention anything to me, and none of the others seem to know much, although Errant mentioned some comic that Spike’s been reading recently – ‘One Buck Kid’ or something.”

“He’s reading about goats?” I arched an eyebrow and looked back at Mo.

“Perhaps?” He shrugged. “Errant says the cover looked like a hairless ape.”

“Hairless ape?” A candle idly floated over my head. “Oh! Humans! Spike must have gone through the mirror to go comic shopping with Sunset again. I really wish he’d tell me when he’s planning to do that, but I can’t really blame him. Sometimes I just want to read something different, and their culture definitely fits that definition. I’ve told you about the humans, right? Tall, spindly, kind of violent, and a complete lack of magic in favor of technology.”

“You’ve mentioned them—” he made a tsking sound, “—even mentioned the mirror, but noling has found that room yet. Ve suspect Castle is hiding it from us for some reason.”

“Really?” I ruffled my wings. “That seems odd, but, then again, the portal turns Spike into a dog. Maybe he’s worried about what changelings turn into on the other side?”

“Maybe.” Morpheus shrugged, accidentally knocking his cap off. “I suppose I shouldn’t really get hung up on it, though. I have enough to deal with just negotiating with you.”

He hummed and hawed, trying to get his hat back into position as we walked. “You ready for the party later? I admit, I’m a little worried that Webber may have gone overboard when I asked him to help Castle. I walked into his room once to find it packed to the brim with eggs, and he wouldn’t tell me of all lings why.”

I laughed. “Maybe he’s making something special for Errant. It is their first Nightmare Night, after all.”

“You’re probably right.” Morpheus chuckled. “No reason to assume the—”

We turned the corner to find a horde of skittering monstrosities writing on the wall with glow in the dark mucus.

“—Stop!” Morpheus’ voice instantly turned into a whistling hiss.

“What the buck are those?!” I hissed back as I followed the hissed order with some effort – trying to ignore the instinct to scream at the sight of an uncountable mass of bloodhound-sized scarabs.

“They’re bytes….” Morpheus sighed. “I might have mentioned them when we were talking about bits. Whereas bits are just pets, bytes—”

“—manage the grunt work for various drone projects,” I finished, notebook already in hoof. “While most are general purpose – created by breeders – there are several drones who specialize in breeding specialized bytes for specific duties.”

Morpheus nodded, backing up slowly. “What your crib sheet may not mention are some of the specific kinds of bytes. These are guard bytes. They may be less aggressive than a guard dog, but they are infinitely more perceptive and skittish – meaning they will be raising the alarm. Thank the First Father Webber apparently remembered to key our scents and emotional signatures to them. But – hive damn it all – what was he thinking?”

Realizing I wasn’t following him as he backed up, he gestured vehemently to me. “Honestly! This goes way beyond making Castle creepy – or even scary – to making this place downright terrifying for any non-changeling. As soon as the guests get anywhere near them—”

A crystal chandelier conspicuously fell to the floor, shattering loudly.

“—this will happen!” Mo yelled as every single byte began to stampede away from the sound – legs desperately scritch-scratching as they skittered around us by the barest margin. Their wings shrieked in a terrifying chorus of unearthly screams as they scrambled over each in their panic.

I fidgeted as adrenaline surged through my veins, my muscles screaming at me to run – but there was nowhere to go. Floor, wall, ceiling, no surface was safe except the spot I was in. Unnervingly, one would occasionally brush against me and we’d both jump – inevitably forcing me to bump into others, causing them to jump as well.

A hoof on my shoulder caused me to start, looking back so quickly I heard something crick in my neck. Morpheus stood behind me, giving me a reassuring smile. He’d somehow pushed his way through – against the tide – to get back to me.

“You alright!”

“Yeah!” I grinned. “This is great! Terrifying, but great!”

“How on Equis is this possibly a good thing?!”

“Sometimes, it’s fun to be scared!” I made the quote as solemn as possible while having to yell over the stampede. “They won’t harm anypony, just run around them, right? I don’t see an issue as long as Webber continues to take responsibility for them after tonight!”

That earned me an odd look from Mo. “Ponies….” He muttered in Chitri just barely in my threshold of hearing.

“I heard that!” I swatted him with my tail – my wings being restrained by the mass of bytes surging around us.

“You heard that because I wanted you to!” He bared his fangs in a grin. “Regardless, if you’re really okay with it, I’ll let it go for now, but you probably won’t need to worry about them for that long after Nightmare Night!”

“Why is that?” The last of the bytes finally surged past us, allowing me to finally speak in something other than a yell.

Morpheus shrugged. “Because if Webber followed all the proper protocols, their life expectancy won’t last much beyond tonight.”

I blinked. “They’re that short lived?”

For some reason, my answer made Morpheus squirm. “Not usually, no, but… oh, hive damn it, I figured you would have caught on to the implications.”

“What implications?” My face scrunched as my thoughts started to race over all our conversations on bits, bytes, and their other ‘livestock.’

The prince of the changelings took a deep breath. “Twilight, especially given the current state of the hive, it’s inefficient to have them draw on resources longer than we need them to…. Purposely starving them after they’ve served their purpose would be cruel, so… a long time ago, we learned how to limit lifespan expectancy in the zeroth Chrysalling in case whatever we were birthing was only needed for so long. Webber didn’t need these bytes beyond Nightmare Night, so…”

Oh. I looked down the hall after the bytes, biting my lips. “Okay, then…. I guess I can understand that. Just don’t mention that to Fluttershy. I really don’t think she’ll like that particular practice.”

“W-we don’t do it all the time!” His echo fractured slightly. “It’s usually only needed for specialty jobs!”

I forced myself to smile. “I get it, Mo. You don’t need to defend yourself.” Hugging him, my smile became a little more real.

“By the way, don’t think I didn’t notice you Castle!” I called into the darkness, once I was sure Morpheus was fine. “Chandeliers don’t just randomly fall in these halls, so I know it was you! Should I be worried about broken furniture everywhere after tonight?”

The lights flickered, and the shards of broken crystal vanished as a new chandelier appeared.

My ear flicked irritably at the sight. “I wonder what he’s doing with all the pieces that are bound to crop up tonight.”

“Ve’re more curious about whatever he and Webber had the bytes doing before we got here.” Mo moved forward to look at the wall, then twitched. “Of course… Castle sees all. Castle hears all.”

“Huh?” I moved up beside him, then giggled at what I saw. “Really? He had them writing ‘Ick k’re-t’ched,’ all over the wall? I appreciate the sentiment for my costume, but nopony else is going to get it.”

“Exactly,” Morpheus muttered, “to anypony else, it’ll seem like a madpony’s ramblings – perfect for Nightmare Night decorations – but to us and the others…” he gulped, “...I suppose you can call it the newest in-joke. A prank, if you will.”

“Welp, now that the bytes are out of the way, we should get going again. Did they mess up my costume at all? I’d hate to have to fix anything after spending so much time on it already.”

“No.” He shook his head. “It’s just as fantastic as before. Is mine all right?”

“Seeing as how you didn’t lose that hat in all that mess, yes,” I giggled. “I can’t wait to see what everypony thinks at the main festival. For once, they should actually know what I am.”

Morpheus chuckled, flaring his cape out with one hoof and sweeping into a bow. “Well then, milady, I do believe we shouldn’t keep our citizens waiting much longer. Tis a crime to hide the fairest mare in all the lands from the public eye, so I simply know they cry for their dear, sweet, princess to appear.”

I tittered. “But I’m not a princess tonight. I’m merely Snow White, who was a humble earth pony mare.”

“Ah, but you’ll be a princess after marrying your Prince Charming.” The cocky grin he had vanished as his face fell and his eyes hardened into glass. “Oh, I could have phrased that much better. Our sincerest apologies.”

“It’s alright!” I laughed. “It’s not like you really meant it. You were just playing the part. That’s part of the fun with costumes.” Starting forward again, I tilted my head to the side. “You know, maybe we should do this with all the girls next year? A group costume, I mean. It might be fun.”

“Umm… I hate to burst your bubble, Twilight,” Morpheus trotted to keep up, “but that’s basically asking for all the papers to restart those rumors that you and the girls are in a herd with me.”

I sighed. “Oh, right…. Those were a thing weren’t they. Truth be told I’d forgotten about them. Welp, that’s a shame…. It seems like such a fun idea.”

Morpheus shrugged. “I wouldn’t be against it, per se, but I doubt the others will want to deal with the fallout.”

“Butter mah biscuits and call me a pear, that’s a great idea!” Applejack slapped her knee – golden bracelets jingling. Her stetson was absent for once, gone in favor of a long flowing black-dyed mane and the heavy mascara her costume demanded.

“Hive damn it all.” Morpheus twitched. “Cleopeytral was one of the last of an ancient pegasi dynasty powerful enough to rule over north Zebrica. Her name literally translates to ‘glorious armor,’ and she lived up to that name – having to stave off the windigo attacks that trickled in from the old world during the Exodus. She was strong enough to bear the foals of Commander Hurricane himself, and she did not speak with a country earth pony twang! How did Rainbow even convince you to do this, and how can you possibly think group costumes next year are a good idea?!”

“You didn’t lie to me about wanting to do it, did you?” I arched an eyebrow.

“No. No!” He shook his head vehemently. “It’s just… I have high standards, alright? Applejack’s humble country accent coming out of a proud royal warrior queen really kills the idea for me.”

Applejack chuckled. “You’re complaining about me when Twilight got you in that get up. No offense, hon, but Ah can’t really picture you as Prince Charming. Ah’m in my costume for the same reason you’re in yours. Rainbow wanted to be Commander Hurricane this year and Ah just went with it. Ah’m just as fine doing a group costume next year if everypony wants in on it.”

She shrugged. “Besides, Ah ain’t one to care much about what a bunch of lying, no good newspapers say about us. If anypony is actually gullible enough to believe some silly story about us being in a herd without checking facts, then they ain’t worth mah time.”

Smiling, she waved us over to the buckets splayed around her. Several ponies were ducking their heads into and out of the frigid, icy water that was preserving the apples freshness, while others enjoyed their well-earned apple snack with a glass of hot cider and some warm, hoof-stitched towels – to drive away the chill.

“Now, who wants to bob for apples?”

“Pass,” Morpheus deadpanned to the bemusement of Applejack.

I giggled. “I’ll have to pass too, Applejack. With our costumes and all, Mo here is convinced someling is going to try and feed me a poison apple tonight.”

“That’s just plum crazy!” Applejack snorted. “Ain’t no pony out there who’d ruin a perfectly good Sweet Apple Acres apple.”

I laughed, wrapping a wing around the now squirming Morpheus. “Isn’t it? I don’t mind humoring his paranoia for just one night, though.”

“I’m right here girls….” His coat started darkening again.

Was he… blushing when he did that? He did mention that he often morphed his blood black to hide when he blushed through his chitin. But then, why was he blushing earlier in Castle?

“You know I’m just teasing.” I gave him an extra squeeze. “We like you no matter what – paranoia and all. Besides, it isn’t always unfounded... I think….”

“Wow, what a vote of confidence.” He rolled his eyes before smiling. “I can taste the sincerity, though, so thanks.”

“I got one!” A teenaged colt triumphantly held his prize aloft after capturing it – his pinto coat and faux night guard armor dripping. “About bloody time, too!”

Applejack nodded towards the latest victor. “Well, looks like Ah got another one ta tend to, so don’t hold back on my account. If ya ain’t gonna bob for apples, ya’ll should go enjoy the rest of the festival. It’s not like we can’t talk at the other shindig later.”

She trotted off, waving at the colt. “Be there with your drink and towel in a second, hon!”

“Is that Pipsqueak?” Morpheus tilted his head to the side. “The one who got through to Princess Luna in one of your Friendship Reports?”

“Maybe?” I squinted. “It would certainly explain the costume choice. There are only a few pinto stallions in town, though I admit I don’t actually know everypony in Ponyville, not like Pinkie Pie does. Why?”

“Just curious.” Mo shrugged. “That report was always one of my favorites. It… spoke to me, I guess – helped convince me ponies and changelings could really live in harmony.”

“Huh….” I felt my muzzle curling up in a smile. “Do you mind if I tell Luna that?”

“If that’s what you want.” Mo grinned sheepishly. “Speaking of which, what do you want to do now? I’m fine with whatever.”

“Hmm….” I rubbed my chin with one hoof, looking at all the game stands around us. I never really cared for the pumpkin toss, and the spider stickler still gave me unpleasant flashbacks to Luna’s first visit sometimes. The ghost popper always left me with my least favorite candies, and the ghoulish gauntlet was more for foals than adults. Really, I wasn’t sure why I started with the games in retrospect. It’d just end up a repeat of the Summer Festival.

Still, where to go? Where to go? Talking with Applejack had at least been nice, so maybe we should just try to find the other girls?

Oh! Idea!

“I got it! Last year, Rarity took so long getting into her costume that she accidentally wasted all of Nightmare Night. Want to check that she’s not going overboard before heading over to the costume contest? She helps most of Ponyville with their costumes every year, so she always enjoys seeing which costume everypony likes the most.”

“That sounds nice.” Mo’s grin became cheeky. “Think we have a shot at winning?”

“Maybe!” I smirked as I looked between the two of us. “Rarity insisted that we needed our costumes to be perfect, after all, so it wouldn’t surprise me if her extra effort showed.”

I started pulling Morpheus towards the boutique. “Oh, I just know she’ll be so excited! Let’s go!”

Carousel Boutique had seen far better days. Paint was chipped. Windows were barred. Shingles were cracked and loose. The perfect look for a haunted house on Nightmare Night, but Rarity always went for trying to make a haunted mansion when time allowed.

“Oh, geeze.” I bit my hoof. “I really should have checked on Rarity over the last couple of days. It looks like she needed the help.”

As I knocked on the door, it creaked open to a dark and dreary room piled high with cloth and multiple sewing machines. Mannequines hung from the ceiling like puppets – garbed in a mish-mash of half-stitched displays, while various tailoring tools floated about in a flickering blue glow.

“You told me this was normal when I asked three weeks ago,” Morpheus muttered, tilting his head and reaching towards the scratched door to inspect the wood.

“It’s normal for about two weeks when she goes crazy with other ponies costumes.” I cautiously poked my head inside as it became clear Rarity wasn’t going to answer. “Then, like clockwork, she spends the next day hiring ponies to fix up the shop from the wear and tear of an entire town, the following five days to rush her own costume, and the final day to get some rest right before Nightmare Night.”

“Rarity!” I cupped my hoof around my mouth as I called out. “Rarity! Are you okay?”” Heading gingerly into her inspiration room, we finally found her – gentle snoring, and in front of an empty mannequine.

“Rarity?” I prodded her with a hoof. “Rarity, wake up. It’s Nightmare Night.”

No response.

“Rarity, wake up. Mo proposed.”

There was a very unladylike snort. “Snerrrk! Wedding dress!” Rarity blinked, bags revealing themselves under her eyes. “Wha— Who are you and what are you doing here?! Wait…. Twilight? Twilight, how long have you been standing there? I just wanted to rest my eyes for a moment. I was having the perfect dream….” She shook her head and lightly slapped herself with her hoof. “Oh, but now isn’t the time to go chasing after that. What time is it?”

“The festival started an hour ago, Rarity.” I grimaced, flattening my ears against my head for the inevitable—

“Wha-ha-ha?!” Rarity could have passed for a banshee with her scream. “I had three hours to cobble something together last I checked!”

“Three hours?” I gently messaged my temple. “Rarity, did you just finish everypony’s orders today?” I winced in sympathy at her nod and pout. “Oh, my…. We came to invite you to the costume contest with us, but maybe you should go back to sleep instead?”

“Weee-earagh…” Rarity yawned, blinking a few times before her gaze finally fell on Morpheus who nodded in acknowledgement. “Oh, Morpheus! Or is it Wicked Smooth? I didn’t see you there. Might I ask what your costume is—” realization alighted in her tired eyes, “—sweet Celestia, I forgot you two were going as Snow White and Prince Charming in all this mess!”

The seamstress began snatching at many of the pieces of fabric around the room. “Now, I have to go. I need to see you two win this year’s contest.”

“Rarity!” I snatched the cloth out of the air as she tossed it away – neatly sorting it by color and pattern for her later. “Rarity, you need to get some sleep!”

“Sleep is for the weak, darling!” Rarity gave a stumbling twirl through the room as she tried to keep track of everything she was levitating.

“You don’t have a costume,” Morpheus quietly hummed beside me – a pillar of stability in the chaos whirling about me.

“Desperate times calls for desperate measures, then!” Rarity retorted, a large white sheet flowing in from out in the hall. Tossing the remaining fabric away, Rarity grabbed a pair of scissors with her telekinesis and made three quick snips to the pristinely white, silken, sheet.

“There!” Rarity flung the cloth over herself, holes in the fabric lining up with her horn and eyes. “A ghost! I died of shame from my lack of a good costume. Let’s go win you that contest!” She grabbed both my ear and Morpheus’ ear and dragged us out into the night.

“Rarity!” I flailed as I was pulled along. “You can let go, you know! We can walk there on our own!”

“Victory will be mine! Mwahahahahahaha!”

“Rarity?”

Author's Note:

Aha! One of my commissions made it through! The patreon finally did it's job! There are a few others in the works, though, so fingers crossed it won't take too long.

This is a rendition of Spi by the way. Credit to NixWorld for the art.

Anyways, thanks to Dreams of Ponies for editing this one. You know the drill for critiques by now.

Obligatory Patreon Link

Comments

[Always Breakfast]

Wow. If Morpheus is that prickly about Cleopatra with an accent, I'd love to see him react to Cardboard Box Gundam.

[I Thought I Was Toast]

8391490
Well, the accent would be a much bigger deal because it's something a dedicated act can overcome. Cardboard robot parts/armor is an acceptable substitute when there's no other options.

[Sir Budginton]

Rarity at the end though

We all know that rarity will surly win this years costume contest.

[EchoWing]

Oh, poor Rarity. She had a good recovery though, even if it's a little Charlie Brown.

Fortunately, if she gets any rocks, she knows to whom they could go.

[hanatoro]

Spike in costume

derpicdn.net/img/view/2016/12/11/1315146.png

Does this mean Errent is going as Genos? Or is it the other way 'round?

[Morphy]

8392063

And in the Traditional Theme category... Rarity!

Too bad Twilight couldn't come up with a little glamor to make her more intangible like a ghost. Then again, knowing Rarity, she'd be a fabulous ghost and... sparkle!

[Fresnor]

8393124
Beating out Derpy who had something fabulously complicated?

[I Thought I Was Toast]

8393211
Derpy would win the abstract/modern art category with her paper bags that may or may not be a political statement far beyond the ken of mortal equines. Sheet ghosts, though... Those are a good, old-fashioned, traditional costume.

[Jphyper]

8393124
At least she's not a fabulous vampire who sparkles.

[djthomp]

First bits and now bytes, you must be some sort of IT person.

Cleopeytral and Commander Hurricane, interesting idea.

“There!” Rarity flung the cloth over herself, holes in the fabric lining up with her horn and eyes. “A ghost! I died of shame from my lack of a good costume. Let’s go win you that contest!” She grabbed both my ear and Morpheus’ ear and dragged us out into the night.

Hah!

[TheStratovarian]

I rather like we get to see something more out of morpheus here, and the more he says and does, more twilight will eventually find and piece together with a mind like hers. And when it all clicks, its going to be great.

[Sunsetstarbreeze]

“There!” Rarity flung the cloth over herself, holes in the fabric lining up with her horn and eyes. “A ghost! I died of shame from my lack of a good costume. Let’s go win you that contest!” She grabbed both my ear and Morpheus’ ear and dragged us out into the night.

Hahahaha! Ah... That Rarity....