• Published 1st Apr 2016
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Group Precipitation - FanOfMostEverything


Stories set in the Oversaturated World, some silly, some less so.

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Personal Space Bubble, by FoME
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Once Ditzy had gotten used to probability space, she'd found it relaxing most of the time. There was something deeply peaceful about floating amidst the hypercosmos. Just her, her thoughts, and myriad possibilities.

Today, though, she twisted herself in dimensions that had no name, face screwed up in concentration, eyes all but rolling back into her head and doing so in opposite directions.

"Is this really necessary?" said Sunset from atop Ditzy's home world-bubble, her many arms still repairing the damage she'd caused.

Ditzy straightened herself and turned towards home. "It's a matter of pride!" she shouted, her volume only partly because sound faded much faster in a realm with more dimensions for it to spread. (She made a point of not thinking about what she was breathing, lest it decide to stop letting her.) "I can't believe there was a whole subdimension lurking right under my nose this whole time!"

"I can use the entire outer skin of this cosmos as an enormous eye and I still missed the fae realm."

"Yeah, but you're not the one with cosmic bubbles on your hips!" After a moment, Ditzy added, "And that sounds a lot stranger when I say it out loud."

"The cu— er, icons were an unavoidable side effect."

"And they prove my point! This is iconic!"

Sunset nodded. "I understand. More or less."

Ditzy nodded, then resumed her contortions. If she could just find the right angle, surely she could spot the filamentary realm that, according to rumors in the ETSAB, was supposed to spread like cobwebs among the hyperspheres. It'd probably look something like the portal, which was easy to spot, a thin, merely three-dimensional line running between home and Equestria. She tried focusing on that, ignoring anything sufficiently big and bulgy that might—

And then she spotted it. Several experimental tilts of her head hit the optimal angle, revealing a meandering thread like something dangling off of a fraying sweater. "I have something. Going in."

Approaching the thread was much like entering any world-bubble, with a sense of everything expanding around Ditzy as she compressed herself into the necessary number of dimensions. Once inside, though, things got unusual. And pink. Very pink. Entanglingly pink.

Ditzy had to spread her wings to travel between timelines, and that implied some degree of motion when she entered one. That meant that she'd cruised straight into the masses of pink fibers within this realm and immediately found herself trapped in them, constricted to the point where she couldn't even fold herself back into probability space.

It was at that point that she noticed the giggling. And how it was getting closer.

Then, from everywhere and nowhere, a familiar voice said, "Yeah, it's been a real monkey on my back."

Some terrific force sent Ditzy rocketing upwards until she emerged, blinking in sudden sunlight. Several ponies gawked at her. She returned the favor as she looked around. She was still entangled from the shoulders down, but she could look down enough to see the curly mane from which she sprang. "Uh, Pinkie?"

"Hi there, human Ditzy! What brings you to Ponyville?"

"Curiosity and bad decisions."

A very familiar looking grey pegasus gave a solemn nod. "Story of our life."

Author's Note:

Looking for the fae realm is rarely a good idea. Invading hammerspace is even less of one. But telling Ditzy Doo there's a worldline she can't enter is like telling pony Twilight Sparkle there's a spell she can't learn; she's going to do it or die trying, because that's who, what, and why she is.

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