Third Chapter - You're Not That Cute
On the third day of the end of the world, Sunset Shimmer woke up to an ancient beast staring her down.
“Good morning, Sunset Shimmer,” Princess Luna said, three centimeters away from her face. “I’ve been watching you while you sleep.” Then, a small pause, as if she was thinking of something to add. “But do not worry,” she said. “I do not wish to murder ponies any longer. Those days are long past.”
And that’s when Sunset Shimmer started screaming.
“Oh. Well, Sunset Shimmer, I did not wish to startle you. I merely—”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—”
“Please, stop screaming.”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—.”
If Princess Luna had ever learned something, it was that sometimes you had to give up. So she clicked her tongue. “Well then,” she said, and as her horn started glowing, her eyes became white. “I wanted to keep this matter private, but you’re forcing my hoof here, Sunset Shimmer. I hope you forgive me. You still refuse to reason with me?”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—.”
Luna seemed to become bigger, darker. Greater. “Thought so,” she said.
Then, there was a flash of light.
And Sunset Shimmer woke up.
“Sunset Shimmer,” Luna said, standing by her side, normal-sized once more. “I do not wish to harm you. What you went through was merely an illusion. A dream, conjured by me. I hope that this time, you maintain your calm long enough for me to—”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—.”
“Okay. Okay, we’re just doing this again, are we.”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.”
“Sigh. Well then!”
There was a flash of light.
And Sunset Shimmer woke up.
“Sunset Shimmer,” Luna said, standing by her side. “I am holding a pillow against your face because you refuse to stop screaming. But I do not wish to harm you.”
“MMMMFGGGGGG. FFFGMG MGF. MMMFFFFFFFFFHGGG.”
“Yes. However,” and here Luna closed her eyes and adopted the tone of a teacher talking with a bratty kid, “I think you’ll agree with me when I say this was a necessary measure. As long as you promise to listen to what I have to say, I can guarantee you will suffer no harm, suffocation notwithstanding.”
“MMMMFGGMMFFGGGMFGGGG.”
“Good! Now, I’m going to take the pillow off, and you just have to—”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—MMMMFGGGGGG.”
“Well then, Sunset Shimmer. Here I am, holding a pillow against your face once more. This is really not an optimal way to hold a conversation. I am not letting you talk until you calm down.”
And that’s why Sunset Shimmer lost consciousness.
And then she woke up.
“I have all the time in the world, and a great amount of pillows,” Luna said, sitting by Sunset’s side, her perfectly beautiful face twisted somewhat by annoyance. “Please don’t test my patience anymore, Sunset Shimmer. There’s no reason to scream.”
Good thing about being knocked out: it gave you peace of mind. Now that the initial surprise and following terror was gone, Sunset found that she was able to formulate coherent thoughts again. “AAA—”
Pillow up. “Really, now.”
“AAAAAaaaah. Ahem.” Sunset coughed, then covered her chest with the blanket. “Um. Okay. No yelling. Sorry.”
And Luna visibly relaxed, and shot her a smile. “Good,” she said.
Pillow down.
It was still early. The world was still quiet, not fully waken up. Petals rained outside, and they looked almost red in the light of dawn. The birds in the Royal Garden were asleep. Sunset’s bed was warm and comfortable, the sheets soft against her fur. The door had been locked from the inside, and the window couldn’t be opened.
Which, come to think of, made it all the more unnerving that Princess Luna had been watching Sunset sleep.
“I apologize for startling you, once more,” Luna said, not moving an inch. She was blocking the door, Sunset noticed. There was no way out the room without getting past the Princess. “I’m just here to send you a message.”
Well, that was reassuring. “Sounds important,” Sunset admitted. “What is it?”
“Ahem.” Luna took a deep breath, and spoke with something that really sounded like an Important Voice. “My sister can not join you for lunch today, as she’s sadly too busy. She apologizes, and offers to share a dinner with you instead.”
Sunset needed a moment to take in everything Luna had said.
“Uh,” she eventually muttered. “Your sister?”
“Yes.”
“Princess Celestia?”
“Yes.” Luna nodded. “Twilight Sparkle sent us your invitation, and so, my sister thought about sending me to forward you hers. She’ll be waiting at the Dining Hall, tonight, at nine o’clock. Twilight Sparkle is also invited, of course”
Sunset blinked. “Okay,” she said. “Okay, I see what’s happening. There’s been a misunderstanding here. See, I never—”
But Luna wasn’t listening. She just shot a brilliant smile. “That’s all. Good morning, Sunset Shimmer.”
“Look, I don’t really want to—wait, what do you mean, ‘good morning’?”
A flash of light.
And Sunset Shimmer woke up.
THIRD CHAPTER:
YOU’RE NOT THAT CUTE
Back at the most important table in the world, the audience doesn’t know how to feel. Fate sits on the right; Time, on the left.
Star-crossed lovers, is the name of the game, and it’s about romance. The game ends when they get together, and Fate is playing wonderfully.
But that’s the thing.
Time doesn’t seem to mind.
Because, and Time knows this, there are only two ways to play the game. Fate is, admittedly, a master of the bait-and-switch. Fate shows Love is not in the game, Fate brings Sunset back to Equestria, Fate makes Flowers Fall.
And what does Time have, to counterattack?
Time only does one thing. It’s the best at what it does, and what it does is what it is. Time is the perfect example of a one-trick-pony, because it doesn’t need anything else.
It never stops. That’s the secret. That’s why Time is so confident. Because it’s losing, true, and it only knows one trick. But it’s, by far, the best trick in the game.
Fate is starting to get annoyed, because Time won’t stop smiling, a smile that verges on a chuckle. The audacity of this, the cockiness… It’s unbearable. It’s not the proper way to do this. Because—and the words are spoken aloud, as the next turn starts—the game might be many things, but it is not a joke.
So the pieces move, and a pink pony walks into a bank…
…And she said, “What do you mean, I have no money?!”
To which, the clerk replied: “Well, Ma’am. Take a guess.”
“Ooh! A game!” Pinkie, ever the charmer, bobbed up and down in her chair in excitement. “I love this kind of thing! Do I get three tries?”
The clerk blinked. “No,” he said.
“Aw, shoot. Why not?”
“Because you have no money, Ma’am. Now, may I ask you to leave, please.”
“Oh.” Pinkie gave this a bit of thought. “Fair point! Shame, I wanted those tries. Trying is always nice, is something I learned recently! So, can I make a withdrawal now?”
It was at this point that the clerk, a green stallion with the face of a fish out of water, hopes, and dreams, realized this was not going to be a nice morning.
Canterlot Bank was a big, gray, and boring building by the west side of the city. It was full of big, gray, and boring ponies, and every single one of them was miserable—especially the clerk, who sat by a table on the left corner—and had planned to keep it that way, up until the point when the pink pony walked into the building that day.
Pinkamena Diane Pie, known among her friends and acquaintances as “Pinkie Pie” [1], was a somewhat famous pony. She had the kind of personality that just stuck out, and also she had sort of saved the world ten times over by this point.
[1] And among her enemies as “Please, stop”, “Please stop”, “Ma’am, I must ask you to—”, and the oh-so-popular “I don’t get paid enough for this, that’s it, I’m out”.
Pinkie’s fame wasn’t completely benign, though, as most ponies believed she was aloof, simple-minded, or even—Celestia forbid!—bloody stupid. This, as anything most ponies believe, was completely wrong.
Pinkie Pie was more than just “not an idiot”, though. In fact, Pinkie Pie just so happened to be extremely intelligent. The problem was that, if anything, she was too clever—and not just by half; more like by seven and three-quarters.
Now, here’s the thing about geniuses:
They’re too good to bother.
They’re too smart to pay attention to trivial things – stuff like mathematics, or logic, or object permanence. When your mind works in abstracts, you deal with abstracts – and it just so happens that you sound, talk, and act like an absolute bloody idiot.
Thus, Pinkie Pie.
“But why can’t I make a withdrawal? I need the money!” she was explaining at this point. “See, it’s a funny story, Mister, uh…” She looked at the nameplate on the table, and had to read it twice to make sure she got it right. “…Number?” she finally said. “Did I get it right? Is that on the nameplate short for ‘Number’, Mister Number?”
The clerk blinked once. “No.”
“Then what’s it short for?”
“Nothing. It’s No.”
“It’s a no-no?”
“No.” If the clerk had known what an emotion was [2], he would have rolled his eyes at this point. “That’s my name.”
[2] Working in a bank does things to a pony.
“Your name’s a no-no?” Pinkie frowned. “Why?”
“No. My name is not a—” The clerk took a deep breath. “Ma’am. My name is No Interest. First name No. Last name Interest.” He pointed at the nameplate. “No, name. Interest, last name. Got it?”
“No!”
“…Is that a yes?”
“I can’t tell myself!”
A pause.
“Please, just call me ‘Mr. Interest’, Ma’am.”
“Okay!” Pinkie winked at No Interest, and made a gesture that in another world, in another dimension, would have emulated a couple of fingerguns. “So anyway, Mister Number—”
“Ma’am, please.”
“—It’s a really funny story! I hadn’t really thought about this before coming to Canterlot, because of all this Armageddon business and Sunset Shimmer coming back and Twilight being weird, right? But Sunset Shimmer never got a Welcome Party!”
Astounded silence followed, at least from Pinkie Pie’s side. No Interest’s vibe was a little different.
“Ma’am.”
“I know! Lately I haven’t been much in the Welcome Party mindset—there are only so many parties you can give, right? And those aren’t always the best!—but the moment I woke up today? I don’t know!” Pinkie shrugged. “Maybe it’s something in the air. It smells sweet, it reminds me of my home. And my first party ever! And then I noticed!” She slammed her hooves on the table. “Sunset hasn’t been in a single party since she came back! So I need that money!”
No Interest took another deep breath. “Ma’am,” he said, “I can’t give you a single bit.”
“But why?!”
“Because,” and here No Interest looked down to the book on the table, “at this moment, mathematically speaking, you’re more debt than pony. You seem to have foregone the worst financial plan I’ve seen in my entire career.” A pause. “This means that you have less than zero money, Ma’am.”
“Gasp!” Pinkie’s mouth formed a perfect circle. “But Mister Number, that’s not possible! I made sure that my plan made all the sense!”
“No. And also, no, you didn’t, Ma’am.” He looked back at the book, then at Pinkie. He gave this a bit of thought. “On the other hoof, and from what I’ve gathered from you so far, it’s entirely possible that you did. Which is, I suppose, far worse.”
“But I had Princess Twilight make sure my plan made all the sense!”
“Then I guess we’re really lucky Princess Twilight doesn’t have any sociopolitical influence whatsoever, Ma’am, because we’d all be starving by now.”
“Hmmm.” Pinkie Pie wasn’t a stranger to adversity. She rested her back on the chair, frown burrowed, lost deep in thought. “So I can’t get any money out for the party?”
“No. You can’t. Because you have no money.” No Interest nodded to himself, and closed the book. “You seem to have some difficulty with the concept, so let me restate my point, Ma’am: I must ask you to—”
“What if I ask you nicely?” Pinkie said, raising a hoof. “Would you give me the money then, Mister Number?”
“It’s No. And, also, no.”
“Drat. I should have brought Fluttershy with me. She’s great at asking nicely.” Pinkie made a pout. “Well, then what do I do? I don’t want to rob a bank again, but I need that money. Hmmm.”
“Ma’am—”
“Miss Pie?” a third voice asked, and No Interest had never heard anything so beautiful. “What a strange coincidence, meeting with you like this.”
To which Pinkie turned around to look at the brown stallion standing right behind her. “Filthy Rich!” she said.
Filthy Rich, indeed. “Filthy Rich, indeed,” he said. “Hi, Miss Pie.”
“Hi!” Pinkie smiled at him and shook his hoof. “What are you doing in Canterlot?”
“Saving me,” No Interest said. “Sir? Are you taking this mare away?”
“Yes, I think that might be the case, actually. I’d like to discuss some business with her.” Filthy Rich nodded to the clerk in a gesture that could have been described as elegant, in a southern-gentlepony kind of way. “Only after she finishes her conversation with you, of course.”
“By all means, take her away immediately,” No Interest said. “Please. Please.”
“Hahah. You’re funny. I like you!” Pinkie patted No Interest’s head before getting up and walking away with Filthy Rich. “I’ll be sure to invite you to Sunset Shimmer’s welcome party, Mister Number!”
“No. And also, please don’t.”
“I have to admit, Miss Pie, that this is highly unorthodox for me,” Filthy Rich said once they were safely away from earshot, almost next to the door. “But, and I apologize for it, I couldn’t help but listen to the conversation you had with that clerk. You’re going through some financial troubles, it seems.”
“Yeah! And it’s such a shame, too!” Pinkie shook her head. “I have to prepare a party, right? But I can’t do anything without money.” A pause. “Unless…”
“Hmm.” Filthy Rich looked at her. “Miss Pie, I can tell that this party is important to you. I can also tell that what you’re planning right now is probably not legal.”
“Gray area. But go on!”
“What would you say,” and here Filthy Rich used a tone that could only be described as perfectly reasonable, in that way only great liars or crazy ponies can use it, “if I told you I could help you? With, say, a loan?”
And Pinkie’s eyes sparkled like twin stars on a red carpet. “You would grant me a loan?” she asked. “Really?”
“Well, usually I wouldn’t, no. But, what can I say?” Filthy Rich laughed—he could almost be handsome, when he laughed like that, Pinkie noticed. Reasonably handsome—and then shrugged. “Maybe it’s something in the air. I feel generous, Miss Pie. You seem to be in trouble. And I always had a weak spot for pink mares.”
“Hahah. That’s great!” Pinkie said. “So you can just give me a loan, and then I’ll have the money?”
“Yes. Of course, you’d have to pay me back—with interest. I must ask you to sign a contract or two. But I’m sure you’ll find these terms,” and his voice became sweet, “perfectly reasonable.”
And Pinkie, being the genius she was, did exactly that.
There’s a sweet scent in the air. An old mare by the west side of Canterlot realizes that this morning her husband is wearing a red tie, instead of his usual blue one.
She smiles. He was wearing that red tie when they met for the first time. When she points this out, the old stallion smiles back, and says he knows. It just came to mind this morning, and he thought about rekindling the old flame. She’s as beautiful as ever, he says. She blushes.
It’s a sweet moment.
Flowers Fall.
Here’s the thing about places:
They’re not living things. But this doesn’t mean they aren’t alive.
“And I hate this place,” Sunset said, looking up at the library’s main door, “precisely because of that.”
“Hi to you too, Sunset.”
“Good morning, Twilight,” Sunset replied. They were in front of the Royal Library. Around them, flowers rained down, harder than they’d ever rained down before—to the point where their smell, usually soft and subtle, became sickening. “I was saying. I hate this place. And you know why? Because places like this are more than just places, they’re—they mean things. They’re alive, and I hate it. Did I ever tell you that?”
Twilight shot Sunset the kind of smile only a friend, or a mother, can shoot. The kind of smile that says ‘I hate you’, but also ‘I love you’.
And then she said, “Yes, Sunset. Many times.”
“Because I just hate it so much.”
The Royal Library took half of the west wing of the Castle. Around the city it was widely known as the densest part of Equestria. Scholars, as they’re prone to do, liked to believe that the nickname came under the assumption that knowledge was measured by the ton. Scholars, as they’re prone to do, were absolutely and totally wrong.
The Royal Library had been designed as a cube, the most efficient of shapes. Which had been fine for a while, but then scholars had got a hold on the plans, and they’d demanded that the Library had a tower.
The reasoning behind this demand was that towers were the loneliest kind of building, and that fit libraries a lot. Also, that classically, libraries had always been on top of a tower [3]. Facing this kind of social pressure, the lead architect had been forced to sit down and reach a compromise between what the public wanted, and what they’d already built.
[3] As in, that’s how it worked in their books. The cool ones. The ones with knights, and scantily-clad princesses, and (more often than not) entirely unnecessary dragons.
The result of that compromise had been that they had finished the cube, and then they had stuck a single tower in the center of it, and so technically everything was part of the tower. Everypony was happy this way, and it all worked perfectly, except for a single detail.
“It’s a literal middle finger to the skies, is what this building is,” Sunset was raging at the moment, with this kind of passion that only comes when talking about things that, ultimately, don’t matter. “It’s a monument to the idea of form before function. It’s the embodiment of everything that’s wrong with Equestria. And, I can’t stress this enough, it’s a literal middle finger towards the skies.”
“Okay.” Twilight Sparkle, who had spent the last seven hours inside said Library, walked to her friend and rested a hoof on her shoulder. “So, two things, Sunset,” she said. “First: I have no idea what that middle finger thing is about. Ponies don’t have fingers. We have hooves. It’s kind of our thing. Second: Everything you’re telling me? I already know. You’ve told me this exact same thing a thousand times already.”
“It’s just… with a teacher, right, students learn through humility. There’s always someone better than them. But this?!”
“The Library doesn’t teach humility. Young ponies nowadays don’t know how to treat their elders. Books are rotting their brains,” Twilight said. “Etcetera, etcetera. Sunset, you’ve told me this so many times I’ve got the speech pretty much memorized. Now you’re going to say that the Library is so fake that if it were a pony—”
“It’d be the kind of pony who wears a black turtleneck without an ounce of irony,” Sunset said, and the seething in her tone was almost palpable. “The kind that, that wears thick-rimmed glasses for no other reason than because she thinks it makes her look smart. The kind that says that her best friend is a book with a straight face.”
“Uh-huh.”
“The worst kind of mare.”
And from behind Twilight, came a voice that could have frozen summer in July. “You know,” it said, “if you want me to go away, you can just say it.”
And to this, Sunset Shimmer just smiled in that way that showed too many teeth. “Hi, Moondancer,” she said.
“Goodbye, Sunset Shimmer,” Moondancer replied adjusting her thick-rimmed glasses and brushing the shoulder of her black turtleneck. “Twilight, if you need me I’ll be inside,” she said, pointing at the Library. “Reading. Studying. Saving the world. You know, useful stuff. Unlike others, I might add.”
And so, Moondancer took her leave.
“You know?” Twilight said, once she was gone, hoof still resting on Sunset’s shoulder, “you could at least try not to be like that. Moondancer is a good mare, when you get to know her.”
“Oooooor, instead,” Sunset said, smiling brightly, “I could not waste my time and go straight to you! Don’t you think that’s much easier?”
“Easier? Yes. But I don’t think purposely antagonizing my friends is a good long-term plan if you’re to keep living in Equestria.”
“Twilight, Moondancer hates me. I’m not going to bother fighting a losing battle.”
“I mean.” Twilight paused, gave it a bit of thought, made a face. “I mean, yes. Yes, she hates you. Loathes you, really. But I really think that—”
“So!” Sunset said, clapping, as she got away from the Library. Twilight followed. “You know Princess Luna?”
“You’re changing the topic.”
“Blatantly. You know Princess Luna? Ruler of the Night, Princess of the Moon, all that jazz?”
Twilight nodded. “Uh-huh. What about her?”
“You know how she’s not a megalomaniacal murderer anymore?”
“Yes,” Twilight said, nodding a little less. “She won’t stop talking about it.”
“Right,” Sunset said. “So… How much of that is actually true, again?”
A pause. Twilight took the question like a house takes a hurricane.
Loyalty is a wonderful thing. Twilight Sparkle was loyal to the bone, to the point where her total faith in the Princess—and Luna, by proxy—was still one of her core characteristics. She really loved loyalty, it was the kind of thing that made it easier to wake up every morning.
But on the other hand one can only get so many free apples before learning that honesty is the best policy. So Twilight went with the only possible answer.
“Gmrk,” she said.
“Yeah, you be noncommittal at me all you like, Twilight,” Sunset said, frowning. “But I woke up to that mare suffocating me with a pillow this morning, so, y’know. Choke on that.”
A pause.
“She… Sorry, what?” Twilight blinked. “What? With a pillow?”
“Charming how that’s the one detail that ticks you off.”
“Okay, no, I don’t—Sunset Shimmer, what on Equestria were you doing to force Princess Luna to suffocate you with a pillow?!”
Sunset made a face. “Well,” she said. “If I recall, I was screaming.”
“And why were you screaming?”
“…Because she was suffocating me with a pillow? I—Sorry, I think I need a moment.” She took a deep breath. “Twilight Sparkle. Do you really think, and I want you to be honest here, do you really think there might be an explanation here that is not ‘because Princess Luna is severely deranged’?”
“Of course Princess Luna is severely deranged!” Twilight rolled her eyes. “But that’s the thing: she’s deranged the other way around! She would never hurt a pony, it’s not in her nature.” A pause. “Or, uh, it’s in her nature, actually, and that’s why she would never do it? Because reformed villains are… Look, it’s complicated.” A sigh. “I’ll have a talk with her later.”
“That would be peachy. Except that you already had a talk with her,” Sunset said. “That’s why she came to me. So, like. Don’t.”
“What?” Twilight frowned. “Really?”
“Yes. She wanted me to know that Princess Celestia is busy this afternoon.” Sunset clapped. “Which brings me to the next topic! I apparently invited Princess Celestia to lunch!”
Twilight almost blushed. The thing on her face could have been a blush, if she’d been the kind of pony who did things to be embarrassed about. But Twilight wasn’t like that. She only did what had to be done.
So what came to her face was probably just a rash. “Um,” she said. “Right. Um.”
“Yeah. How about that.” Credit where credit is due: Sunset didn’t sound particularly annoyed. She just had that kind of ‘gotcha’ smirk on her face. The infuriating one. “But as I said, the Princess will be busy until this evening. She graciously invited me to dinner to make up for it.”
“Oh. Oh!” Twilight’s ears picked up. “Sunset, that’s absolute—”
“And I’m not going.”
“—ly fantaswait wait what. What.”
“Ugh.” Sunset looked up, and had to brush three flowers away from her mane. She left the ones on Twilight’s head, though. “This place is horrible. I can’t breathe with all these flowers. Wanna go grab a bite?”
“What.”
“Oh, yeah, you have no reason to be angry here. You tried to fool me into having a dinner with Celestia.” Sunset glared at Twilight here. She didn’t Squint™, but she came close. “I just want to get out of here. Because I hate the Library. But this? We’re discussing this, Twilight. We’re discussing this long and hard.”
There’s a sweet scent in the air. Somewhere in Canterlot, a teenager is about to go out, but something stops him.
He remembers that, when he was a kid, he would never leave the house without giving his teddy bear a hug. A really manly hug, mind you—the kind of hug that screamed “Alpha Macho”. But a hug, nonetheless.
He’d forgotten this long ago, but now it comes back to mind. He realizes that at one point, he gave the teddy bear a hug, and then he let it down, and never picked it up again.
It’s surprising how much this thought stings.
So he spends ten, fifteen minutes rummaging through his old closet, until he finds the teddy bear. And then, after making sure he’s alone, he gives it one hug. It’s a silly thing, just a little bit of nostalgia, and soon enough he’s out with his friends and forgets it all again.
But the teddy bear sits in the open, out of the closet for the first time in a decade.
Flowers Fall.
Here’s the thing about utopias:
They make apocalypses irrelevant.
Three days had passed since the start of the end of the world, and Canterlot didn’t mind it. Because flowers, when you got to it, just didn’t look the part. They were pretty; beautiful, even, but they weren’t fearsome. And they were edible, for goodness’ sake.
The only problem with the flowers was that, unlike snow, they didn’t melt. They accumulated, and had to be swept away. But then again, they were perfectly edible—so free food, and a great boost to the economy, because suddenly there were a lot of business opportunities, what with sweeping being so profitable all of a sudden.
So, when Sunset and Twilight got to Main Street and found a nice place to spend a couple hours in, they didn’t see a dying city: they saw pretty flowers raining and happy ponies smiling.
“Which makes it even sadder how you have to rot your days, at the Library, with Moondancer, to solve something everypony seems to not mind much,” Sunset said.
Twilight was patient. “I like Moondancer,” she said. “And I like the Library. And Flower Fall might kill us all!”
“The sing-song voice really brings that last bit to life.”
“Thanks!”
“You know what we should do?” Sunset asked. “We should go out, you and I! Just, find a couple of good stallions, and dance the night away!” Her smile was big and honest. “What do you think?”
“That is a horrible idea, and I hate everything about it.”
A pause.
“Okay.” Sunset nodded. “So what if we take three stallions each—”
“No.”
“Shoot.”
The café was almost empty, but in a way that made it cozy instead of eerie. Twilight and Sunset sat at the corner, to make sure they could enjoy some privacy. “Canterlot Seal of Quality,” Sunset muttered, after she saw it. “Gotta love this city sometimes. I’m sure the service here is top-notch.”
“You know, I don’t get why you hate Moondancer so much, really,” Twilight said once the waiter went away with their order. “What has she done to you? You barely know her!”
Sunset looked at Twilight. Her eyes, her muzzle, her cheeks, her mane. Her posture. The way she was crossing her legs. The way she wasn’t really frowning, but wasn’t really smiling either. She loved this mare.
So instead of telling the truth, Sunset dodged the question with another question. “What do you see in her?” she said.
“She’s smart, she’s nice, I can always count on her, she’s my childhood friend, and you’re clearly trying to dodge my question.”
“So she’s your childhood friend,” Sunset said, face serious. “And that is the only reason why you still hang around with her.”
“That is not true, and also you’re still dodging—”
Sunset grabbed one of Twilight’s hooves. “Twilight,” she whispered. “Do you want me to bring up how Luna tried to kill me this morning because of you.”
“—nothing, you’re dodging nothing, and I’ll listen to whatever you have to say,” Twilight said, not missing a beat.
“Atta girl.” Sunset winked at Twilight. “So! She’s your childhood friend, and that’s all. This is about nostalgia. Now, let me ask you: if you met her today, do you think you would still be friends? Do you think the pony she is now could become your friend from scratch?”
Twilight thought about this. Then, she said “Well, yes. Probably. As I said—”
“See?” Sunset crossed her legs and rested her back on the chair, her face the perfect picture of victory. “That means she wouldn’t.”
“What?”
Sunset shook her head. “You said yes, I got that. But in reality? You meant no. Because you had to think about it. You had to pause and wonder, instead of answering from the heart. And the heart,” and she looked at Twilight eye to eye here, heart to heart, mare to mare, “is what matters.”
A pause.
Sunset looked at Twilight.
Twilight looked at Sunset.
“You expected me to answer ‘no’, didn’t you,” Twilight said.
“OH MY GOSH I JUST HATE THAT PONY SO MUCH.”
“Charming.”
“WHY IS YOUR TASTE SO BAD WHEN IT COMES TO MARES.”
This seemed to amuse Twilight far more than expected. “Hey,” she said, and she punched Sunset’s shoulder, little smile on her face. “You’d be surprised!”
“Ouch.”
“Fooling around aside, you still haven’t told me why you dislike Moondancer,” Twilight continued, and here her tone got serious again. “So, you know. Now it would be a good time to—”
“Oh, hey! A distraction!” Sunset pushed Twilight away a little and looked to the left, where a stern-looking waiter was carrying a tray with two glasses. “Our drinks are here! That was fast! Give my regards to the chef!”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “Subtle.”
“Thank you. The drinks, please?”
The waiter kept his stern face on, and just approached the table with the nerve and composure of a stallion who had seen better times in his life. “Princess Twilight,” he said, “your coffee.”
And he put a small cup of coffee on the table.
“Ma’am,” he continued, “your double bourbon, cut with absinthe, with tequila to wash it down and a cherry on top.”
And he put a glass the size of a small sun [4] in front of Sunset, then a slightly smaller glass right next to it, and then a cherry on top of it all.
[4] This was not an exaggeration.
To understand Equestrian physics, one had to understand that generally universes had four Fundamental Forces: Gravity, Electromagnetism, Strong Nuclear Force, and Weak Nuclear Force. This is the reason why most things, usually, make sense.
Equestria didn’t work like that. Equestria had one Fundamental Force–Magic–and two Fundamental Horses–Celestia, and Luna. This meant that Equestrian Physics worked by the mathematical rule of Shrug Anything Goes Really. Water burned, love caused earthquakes, and stars were the size of footballs.
So that was a really big glass, but it didn’t defy the Laws of Physics. You can’t kill what is already dead.
And then he left.
Twilight looked at Sunset’s glass, eyes wide. Then, she looked at Sunset. Then, at the clock on the wall—10:00am. Then, back at Sunset.
Then she just sort of made a face that said a million things at once.
And Sunset reacted with the kind of jaded sigh that one would expect from a mother of twelve, when told she’s pregnant with triplets. “Look,” she said. “Don’t judge me.”
“Sunset.”
“Hey.” Sunset lifted the glass with a flash of her horn and gave it a preemptive sniff. It smelled like death and future regrets. “I said don’t judge me.”
She took a sip.
Pause.
“…Is it good?” Twilight eventually asked.
“Hahah. Gosh. No.” Sunset smiled. “It’s really not. BOTTOMS-UP!”
And she took three gulps in quick succession.
Fifteen really interesting seconds followed. They were the kind of fifteen seconds you never talk about, but you remember. You always remember. In the dark of night, you remember. When it’s cold, and by your side you hear your loved one whisper in their sleep, you remember. Whenever a kid asks why every flame one day burns out, you sit back, and remember.
Even Twilight had to look away and drink her coffee not to gag, because apparently it was possible to get heartburn by proxy.
Then, it was done. Sunset ate the cherry, washed her mouth with the tequila, and then slammed both glasses on the table. “Well then!” She said, once the world stopped spinning. “That’s probably the second worst thing I’ve ever tasted! May I have another?”
“Sunset Shimmer, it’s ten in the morning, and I can’t believe you—”
“Ooof.” Sunset grabbed her stomach, then burped. “Ooof. Ugh, this is horrible. Sorry, you were saying?”
Twilight looked at her. “You’re pale.”
“Yeah, I think I just punched my liver inside out.” Another burp. “You know what? I think there was something weird in that cherry.”
“Sunset Shimmer, what on Equestria got to you?” Twilight asked. She got up, and moved her chair so she could be closer to Sunset, then patted her on the back. “There, there. Do you need to go to the bathroom?”
“No, no. Thanks. Ooof.”
“What’s this all about?”
“Weeeeell.” Sunset flinched, then straightened her back, and signaled the waiter. “You know when you look at yourself, and you go, hey, I think I’m going to become an alcoholic now?”
“That is honestly one of the most horrible things I’ve ever heard you say.” Twilight patted Sunset’s back once more. “And that’s saying something. Did you know you talk a lot about Squattin’ Steve?”
“And yet I feel I’m not doing him justice. Squattin’ Steve is greater than life, Twilight. Trust me on that.”
“Yeah, that I believe.” A sigh. “So you want to start drinking now?”
“Pretty much.” Sunset rested her head on her hooves, stared at the empty glass. “I mean, I’m a middle-aged pony, trapped in the body of a human teenager, trapped in the body of a middle-aged pony. I have no idea what my frame of reference is here, I’m sort of rolling with the punches.” She cast a glance at Twilight. “Part of me wants to go out and party. Part of me wants to tell you to wear a sweater.”
A pause. “A sweater?”
“It’s almost winter. You’ll get a cold!”
“Oh.” Understanding dawned on Twilight. “Ooooh, dear.”
“Would it be too much to ask you to wear a scarf, at least? You’re a scrawny kid, you look like you’ll need it. And you’re too skinny. Are you eating properly?”
“Ooooh, dear.”
“So yeah. Getting drunk? That’s a nice balance, if you ask me. A lot of moms get drunk." Sunset paused, and poked the glass. “They might not be the best moms? But they are the hottest. And I rock the hot mom look.”
Twilight let herself smile, though she made a point of not looking anywhere but Sunset’s face. “You do, yeah.”
“Right? And this is easier than facing my problems.” She looked to the left. The waiter was there again. “So obviously the only way to do this is…”
The waiter put another small-sun-glass on the table. “Double bourbon, cut with absinthe.” Shot glass. “And tequila to wash it down.”
A pause. Both mares looked at the waiter.
The waiter’s face didn’t falter. “I’m afraid we’re out of cherries, ma’am.”
“Well. So much for that Canterlot Seal of Quality, then.” Sunset just grabbed the new glass, saw the waiter walk away, and raised the—
Twilight pushed the glass down. “Nope, not going to do that,” she said. “Hey, remember how we shared a moment, a couple nights ago? You’re here because your life is a mess, I’m here because I want to help you?” She nodded at the glass. “This is not helping. This is making a mess on top of another mess.”
“Yes, but it’s a fun mess,” Sunset said. “Get drunk, forget the rest, and just do whatever.” She raised the—
Twilight pushed the glass down. “But that’s not healthy.” she said. “In fact, that’s the opposite of healthy! Sunset, you have to face your problems head-on, that’s how you fix them. This is just running away!”
“Exactly. And you know what?” Sunset looked at Twilight, annoyance on her face. “Running away is what I’m best at. Bottoms up!”
And she drank the whole thing.
Fifteen horrible seconds later, Sunset smacked her lips. “Yep. Much better. See? It was the cherry all along.”
“Sunset—”
“So, now I’m tipsy.” Sunset frowned. “I think. I hope. So I guess we can go to the point—I’m not attending Princess Celestia’s dinner.”
Twilight glared, but her ears went down. After looking at the waiter—and making sure there were no more drinks coming—she went back to her coffee and took a sip. She never left Sunset’s side, though. “You should,” she finally said. “I’m doing this for you.”
“Why? There’s nothing to gain from it.” Sunset burped again, then hit her chest once or twice. “Ooof. That cherry is still kicking. Anyway—look, Princess Celestia and I have nothing to talk about.”
“You betrayed her,” Twilight said. Her voice sounded like she was trying to be soft-spoken, and utterly failing, because she looked like she wanted to punch down a mountain. “And crossed the mirror. That’s what started it all—and that’s where you should start, too.”
“Start what. Dinner?”
“Atoning,” Twilight said. “For your mistakes. Taking steps forward. Bettering your life.”
“Right. Or.” Sunset pointed at the four empty glasses. “I can just drink a lot of alcohol. Fulfill my destiny. I don’t think that Princess Celestia wants to speak with me, and I definitely don’t want to go there. Also, Princess Luna tried to murder me. What are we doing about that?”
“About Luna?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll just ask her not to murder you again.”
A pause.
“I mean.” Sunset frowned, tapped the table. Frowned harder. “I guess I can’t come up with a better plan myself, but that’s still kind of a letdown.”
“And of course you don’t want to go see Celestia. That’s normal! But you have to conquer your fears, Sunset Shimmer.” Twilight grabbed Sunset’s hoof, and her ears went up. She had beautiful eyes, Twilight Sparkle, and she knew how to use them. “Trust me on this,” she said. “It’ll be good for you.”
Sunset said nothing for a moment. She just looked at Twilight, eye to eye.
Then, she scoffed. “Yeah, right. No. I think you’re getting the wrong impression here. Atoning for my mistakes—how’s that going to help me?” She pulled her hoof free from Twilight’s. “Look, what I want to do is move on, solve my life. Dwelling on the past is just going to make things awkward.”
“I think you’d be surprised.” Twilight took her cup and finished up the coffee in three quick gulps. “It’s not the first time I've done this, you know? Did I ever tell you about Starlight Glimmer? She was in a similar situation…”
“Not really, no. Look—do you want me to be completely honest with you?” Sunset said. “Do you want to know why I hate Moondancer?”
“Sure! I would also like to know how that’s relevant.”
The words came out clear and simple. They were the kind of words one would expect to be heavy, riddled with angst, with tears. The kind of words one sees written in red on a wall, the kind of words that a dying pony mutters when the Reaper shows up.
Sunset Shimmer enunciated them with the passion of a Math teacher hosting a spelling bee.
“I hate Moondancer because she reminds me of myself,” she said.
Twilight said nothing. She just stared.
“Glasses aside, mind you,” Sunset added. “I had much better taste, thank you very much. But the rest?” She rested her back on her chair and rolled her eyes. “Pffft. Textbook, really. Rocky past, nerdy girl—she’s got it all. Moondancer’s exactly like me. And so, I hate her.”
“I… Huh.” Twilight blinked, then rubbed the back of her neck. “Wow. That’s… heavy.”
“I mean, yeah. But hey, at least I’m self-aware. See?” Sunset raised her hoof at the waiter, pointed at her drink. Then she looked back at Twilight. “My past? Nothing good. Talking with Celestia would just be awkward, it wouldn’t solve anything. I’ve got that entire bit covered, trust me.”
“Sunset.” Twilight kept rubbing the back of her neck. “That’s—I actually think this is even more of a reason for you to talk with the Princess. You need to face your past demons, to grow up.” She sighed. “And I’m sorry that you feel that way about Moondancer. She’s a really good mare. You should try to talk to her, too.”
“Nah.”
A twinkle of annoyance, in Twilight’s eye. “Well, now you’re just being silly.”
The waiter brought the new drink. Sunset eyed the glass like a chicken eyes the butcher’s knife. “I’m being pragmatic. It’s not like Moondancer likes me either.” She raised the glass, though she didn’t start drinking yet. “And even if she did, I thought you wanted there to be problems? You seem to be really keen on solving everything as soon as possible.”
“I wanted problems so I could solve them!” Twilight said. “That’s what this is all about! I can’t—I need to focus, Sunset. To give it all I have, to tackle every problem and crisis head-on. That’s when I shine.” Her eyes were, indeed, shining. “That’s the only moment I feel alive. I can’t do things half-way, or else it will mean nothing.”
“Hmm.” Sunset closed her eyes and nodded sagely. “Yes. Twilight Sparkle, you’re a great friend. I love you, I really do. But do you know how I just said I’m self-aware? Remember that?” She opened her eyes, and then winked at Twilight. “That’s the main difference between you and me, girl.”
“Right, sure.”
“And what’s it to ya? Even if this is a problem—which it isn’t—Moondancer doesn’t want to solve it either. That mare hates me. And I’m not going to make amends, I don’t owe her anything. Cheers!” And Sunset started drinking.
Twilight didn’t try to stop her. “Well,” she said, “Moondancer has been helping me investigate Flower Fall. So, technically, you do owe her; she’s helping you. With Moondancer studying the general composition, I can focus on specific problems, like you being middle-aged all of a sudden.”
Sunset choked on her drink.
A small moment of panic followed, because choking with that drink was like suffocating on kerosene. There were faster ways to burn one’s lungs, but none as painful, and Sunset had to be patted on the back with quite the strength for almost a minute until she could breathe again.
“Kkkkgh. Oh, oh gosh. This isn’t good.” Sunset heaved. “Kkkkgh. Twilight, I think I’m done for. Kkkkkgh—”
“Yikes.” Twilight patted her again. “Really, what’s the matter with you? Is the idea of Moondancer being a good pony that repulsive to you? Because that’s an… interesting problem.” She coughed. “I mean, seeing how you obviously project yourself in her…”
“Twilight.” Sunset’s eyes were watering, but at least she wasn’t completely red now. “Please shut up for a moment, please?”
“Huh.” Twilight arched an eyebrow, still patting. “That’s an interesting reaction.” Then, she squinted, because something had just clicked. “Wait a moment,” she said. “Sunset?”
“Kkkgh. Kkkggaagh. Oh, boy. I think I’m okay. Okay.” Sunset took a deep breath, swallowed, then looked at Twilight. “Yes?”
“You didn’t choke because I talked about Moondancer, right?” Twilight looked at Sunset, up and down. The gray bits in her mane, the shadow of wrinkles around her eyes. “You choked because I talked about your age.”
Sunset whined.
“You know why you’re middle-aged.” Twilight frowned. “You hinted at that before, but… What are you hiding from me? What’s this all about?”
“Ugh.” Sunset slouched so hard she pressed her face flat against the table. “Please don’t make this weird?”
“Don’t make what weird?”
“It’s just—I guess you never really thought of it. Which sorta makes it worse?” Sunset’s voice was muffled against the table, but clear enough to be understood. “Ugh. This is going to be weird.”
Twilight frowned. “Sunset, you’re almost scaring me here. Are you drunk?”
“I wish.” Sunset sighed. It made a raspberry sound against the table. “Look, just—do you remember how young you were when Celestia took you as her personal student?”
“Really young,” Twilight said. “Just a foal. Just after I got Spike, actually.”
“Right.” Sunset got up, resting her head on her hooves. “And you spent a lot of time as Celestia’s student, and you grew up, and a lot of things happened. Then, you came to the human dimension, and you found me there as a teenager in Canterlot High School. Right?”
Twilight nodded. “Right.”
“And then I just spent a lot of time there, and I never aged.” Sunset bit her lip. “But… I was Celestia’s personal student too, right? Before you. I also started really young, then I became a teenager, and that’s when I crossed the portal. And in there, I never aged. And this happened when you were just a little foal.”
A pause.
Twilight’s eyes got wide. “Oh my gosh,” she said. “Oh my gosh, I’ve never—Celestia hadn’t had a personal student in years when she took me under her wing, she told me that, which means… You became her student before I was even born?!”
“Aaand you’re making it weird.”
“Just how old are you?!”
A grimace. “Yikes, girl. Spare me some dignity, will you?”
“You’re old enough to be my mother!” Twilight buried her face on her hooves. “Oh my gosh,” she repeated. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I—you’re old enough to be my mother!”
“You know what? I’m just going to keep drinking till you calm down.”
“I just, I—” Twilight shook her head, still hidden behind her own hooves. “I’m an idiot. I’m such an idiot.”
“Idiot? Nah.” Sunset finished up her drink. “Offensive? Yeah. But I like you anyway. Thank Celestia you’re cute.”
“I can’t believe I never figured this out.” Here, Twilight managed to cast a glance at Sunset. “You’re—this has nothing to do with Flower Fall. You just took on your real age when you came back to Equestria. Because your human body was stuck as a teenager. And now you’re old.”
A pause.
Twilight looked away. “Middle-aged. Sorry. Please, don’t Squint™ at me?”
“You’re making it hard not to, young lady,” Sunset said. “My age is one of those things I’d rather not think about, thank you very much.”
“I—yes. Sorry.” Twilight gulped, looked to the sides, looked at Sunset. “Just… You’re, you’re actually way older than me.”
“Twilight. Honey.” You could sharpen a knife in Sunset’s smile. “You’re not that cute.”
“Sorry! Just—I’m trying to wrap my mind about this!” Twilight whined. “I thought we were the same age! This is weird!”
“Yep.”
“So… How do I talk to you, now?” Twilight sighed. “I have no idea. Do I treat you like always, do I, I don’t know, have some respect for you? I can’t believe this—am I like a daughter to you? Is that why you’re momming me around?” A pause. Her ears went flat against her head. “Oh dear. You’re momming me around.”
“Twilight. Twilight.” Sunset patted her shoulder. “Hey. Nothing’s changed.”
“But—!”
“I’m the same Sunset as always,” Sunset said. “You just discovered something new about me. That shouldn’t change things, should it? It’s just—I’m the same in here.” She poked her head. “And here.” She poked her chest. “Cool?”
Twilight looked at Sunset. Then, at her own chest.
Then, she sighed, and tried a little smile. “Cool.”
Sunset nodded. “Cool. See? Easy. Don’t make it weird.”
“I won’t. It’s just—you were actually momming me around. I thought it was just the hormones, but you were actually momming me around.” Twilight ran a hoof through her mane. “And I thought that was sweet. This is wild.”
“Well, what do you want? Wild’s my middle name.” Sunset raised a hoof, and waved at the waiter. “As long as you calm yourself down, everything will be good. And if you can’t, well. Another problem to take care of! That’s good, right?”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Twilight swallowed. “Yes. Just… Don’t mom me around anymore? Now that I know this it sort of lost its charm. No offense.”
“Hm.” Sunset shrugged. “None taken. But in exchange, I won’t have dinner with Celestia.” She offered a hoof to Twilight. “Deal?”
“Hahah.” Twilight shook her head, just as the waiter brought Sunset’s drink. “You won’t give up on that, will you? Eyes on the prize.”
Sunset smiled back, and took a sip of her drink. “Eyes on the prize,” she assured, still offering a hoof. “So we got a deal, then?”
And Twilight, eyes sparkling bright, took Sunset’s hoof and shook it with confidence.
“No. You’re going to that dinner.”
“Shoot.”
There’s a sweet scent in the air. A lonely mare—thick-rimmed glasses, black turtleneck—wastes the hours away in the Royal Library.
She loves books. Reading is what she does best, and she reads to save the world. Books used to be all she had, but now she’s got so much more. Her friends, her family. Her life is full of ponies, brilliant ponies, wonderful ponies.
But still, she feels lonely. There’s only a book by her side, it’s late, she’s alone, and old memories come back. She feels like crying. Nostalgia overflows her, only it comes from the other side around. The present doesn’t exist, but the past is written in stone.
There’s a sweet scent in the air. Old demons come back from the grave. And she reads on, because that’s the only thing she can do.
Flowers Fall.
Stats
Page generated in 0.02 seconds
Total duration
1,096 users online
2,433,480 hits today, 2,571,732 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
"I'll update every two weeks!" said Aragón, just before disappearing for two months. Christ.
Sorry, folks. Christmas caught me by surprise, and then University finished the job. Good news is that we're back on schedule, and I actually have written, like, 95% of the next chapter. There were some HIJINKS and I could write a lot.
So I might just post Chapter Four in three days and call it a day, because you waited enough for this one. Do people still remember this story? Man, I hope they do. Anyhow, here's another chapter. Hope y'all like it.
So, this Sunset is an emotional wreck of a person with literally no redeeming qualities, but she's hot, so Twilight wants her anyway.
Honestly, this chapter really made me understand why Flower Fall is destroying the world. The gods have decided to play matchmaker for two ponies who all logic dictates shouldn't ever be together, and it's mincing up reality.
Or something.
Scene description was nice.
Keep telling yourself that buddy.
I saw an opportunity for a stupid joke and I took it.
7938289
I think the words you're looking for is 'hijinks'.
Anyway, this is easily the most surreal story I've read in a long time.
At this point, I'm pretty sure strapping Sunset to a gurney and wheeling her face to face with her problems is both the best course of action and the only one that will leave her liver intact by the end of the week.
7938370
Welcome to an Aragon story. Enjoy your stay.
Is it weird that I'm reading about this mess of a person messing up at not messing up her life more; and that I, in my early twenties, are slightly, maybe, projecting on said individual with whom I share practically zero of these experiences with? I think it's weird.
Oh and Time's shenanigans is exactly why no one ever wants to play with him. It's a miracle how he manages to keep finding games.
...
I really wanna know how Squatting Steve is doing.
So glad this isn't dead!
10th Dec 2016, to 10th Feb 2017. Wow, that was a short two weeks!
7939125
Author do this so that we can profound realized what Twilight and Sunset's feeling.
That's me and your stories, alright.
Sweep sweep sweep
Sorry not sorryOn that note, this chapter seriously rocks
7939233
Wars, and books are rarely done on time. Normally for the same reasons.
Yeah, this mid-life existential crisis is terribly interesting and stuff, but what about Squattin' Steve? He's got a story too, ya know! We can't ignore him on this pony site just because he isn't a pony!
Unless he is a pony, I mean. Is he a pony? Good lord, I'll be up all night thinking about this now....
IMO this story is sort of overwritten, but in its best moments it goes over the top in just the right way to overflow into being perfect.
7941794 Yeah but honestly, it's overwritten enough that that's like half its charm
7941794
7941969
The narration is its own character, yeah. Or, not really -- the narrator is not going to appear in the story, of course, but that's sort of the way I look at it when writing. It's why all the descriptions are so subjective, in a sense, and why nothing is simply stated, but also commented upon.
Of course, if it goes to the point of actually being overwritten, it goes from stylistic choice to mistake, so don't be afraid to point at particular points where you think I should've trimmed it a little bit. Clogging up the story for the sake of 'feeling' (or, more often than not, because I wanna tell seven jokes in one single paragraph) is a really bad thing, so that kind of feedback is welcome.
That aside, glad you like it, yo.
7941582
Squattin' Steve is too big a figure to be told in just one story. Dude deserves its own mythos.
7938594
7938370
I mean, Sunset Shimmer is a total mess, yeah. If she has any redeeming qualities...? Hmm.
Well, depends on your definition of 'quality'. She genuinely likes Twilight -- adores her, really -- and wants the best for her. Kinda. She's sorta selfish? It's really complicated. I don't think she's a good person, but she's not a monster. Honestly tho, I don't believe she's the best pony for Twilight. But, on the other hand, Twilight wants a challenge.
If that makes it better or worse, eh, yours to decide. I know where the story is going; you don't. Can't really discuss anything here seeing how I have that advantage.
7940207
Yeah. Had to punch a lot of Russians to get this chapter out.
Also, hey, neat easter egg. Now that you've all read the chapter and know why Sunset hates Moondancer, go back and read why Sunset dislikes the Library again. It's kinda neat.
7942011
Even bigger than the narration?
7938289
Actually, I kind of didn't (because also Christmas and then panto stuff is happening), but all that meant was an excuse to read it again.
And to observe that, while Spike does not have a lot of lines in this story, they are all ABSOLUTE GOLD.
All the props for the Crime and Funishment references. Looking forward to next chapter!!
The character interaction, and the way you describe everything is still absolutely brilliant
Sunset also has some serious issues she needs to tackle head-on. She's just way, way too stubborn. Good luck with that, Twi.
7942011
Really? I just assumed he was the narrator. It makes all the rest of this story's insanity, randomness and character fall perfectly into place.
7938289 "So I might just post Chapter Four in three days and call it a day" said Aragón, just before disappearing for 6 days, and 17 hours. Christ.
7955685
"Might." I said "might".
Wait, like, two days more. Commissioner, prereaders... One's gotta wait yo.
EDIT: Or three. Or four days. YOU GET ME.
As with almost everything you write, this answers so many questions, yet opens up so many more.
... So who's on first?
Hey! Dragons aren't unnecessary!