Fourth Chapter - Almost Like A Mother
Back at the most important table in the world, Fate just did something strange.
It is a universal truth that beehives are more than the sum of its parts—but most people use this just as an excuse to not look at the bees. Fate knows better. It might not always win, it might not always be fulfilled… But Fate pays attention to the details.
That’s why the audience is cheering, now. Because it’s in the flick of the wrist, in the seemingly unimportant actions, that the most interesting plays of the game are founded. Time is straightforward: it does one thing, and it does it well. Fate is far more resourceful.
Might be why it’s always losing, Time adds.
But Fate pays it no mind. The play is done, and so the game continues, but now there’s something minor that’s changed in Equestria. A book has found a new owner, if only temporarily.
It’s such a tiny thing, it might be hard to see. So let’s make the clock go back. Maybe this time we’ll catch it…
Being a parent is not hard, if you know exactly how to educate your child.
“And then, Diamond Tiara, is when you break their knees!”
Filthy Rich knew how to educate his child.
This all happened in a living room that would have looked less expensive had the walls been coated in gold – expensive furniture, tacky curtains, horrible paintings on the walls, you name it. Filthy Rich and Diamond Tiara had been sitting there for hours, discussing the fine art of financial investment in the modern economy. The scene would have been straight out of the kind of book mares read while sipping from a drink with a tiny umbrella, had they been lovers instead of father and daughter. [1]
[1] Which is not to say there weren’t books with a parent and a child in this exact situation – but those asked for a drink with two tiny umbrellas.
“Indeed. In Canterlot, they like to break the knees before they pay—old Money Bags started that trend; he was a good one, he sure was—but ponies from Manehattan prefer the ‘Good-bye Kiss’.” Filthy Rich’s tone was neutral, perfectly dispassionate. “I side with them. It’s more elegant.”
“Good-Bye Kiss,” Diamond Tiara repeated, lost in thought. She was a teenager now. Her voice, while still keeping part of that childhood sneer, felt like a snake of silk scales. “I don’t get it. What’s that?”
“Before you pay, they beat you up every day,” Filthy Rich explained. There was no smile on his face, but there was one in his voice. “After you pay, they stop, and you’re free to go. But they give you one last moment to remember.”
Diamond Tiara nodded. “The Good-Bye Kiss.”
“Exactly.”
“Which means…?”
“Oh, it’s just another word for breaking their knees,” Filthy Rich said. “Some kiss the crowbar beforehand to give the whole deal more consistency, true, but I honestly think they’d do that no matter what.”
“Huh. I think I could kiss a crowbar if I had to,” Diamond Tiara muttered, getting up from her chair. “Daddy, being an honest businesspony is way harder than I thought. I’m sorry—I always thought your job was easy.”
Filthy Rich looked at his daughter stretch. She moved in a way that made you think of little black dresses, and long cigars, and mysterious whispers in the night. He felt so proud of her. “Oh, sweetheart,” he said, and this time the smile made it to his face. “There’s no need to apologize. I can’t tell you how happy I am that you showed some interest in the family business.” A pause, and his smile wavered. “Of course, I don’t intend to force you to follow my hoofsteps. Far from it. I don’t want you to feel any pressure—if you feel like this path isn’t for you, you’re perfectly free to—”
“Daddy.” Diamond Tiara rolled her eyes, but still gave her father an affectionate nuzzle. “Shut up. I’m doing this because I want to.” She made a face. “I’m just afraid I’m not up to it, really. Breaking four knees a week? That sounds like a lot of work.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that. It’s in your blood.” Filthy Rich gave his daughter a wink. “You’re probably the most talented pony I’ve ever met, when it comes to this line of work.”
“…You really mean that?”
“Sweetheart, you’ve been torturing those Cutie Mark Crusaders for years, and they don’t even owe you money. It just comes naturally to you. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” Filthy Rich’s chest was swollen with pride. “You’re my daughter. You’ll be the best at this.”
“Aw, Daddy, stop. You’re embarrassing me—”
“Yes, he is embarrassing both of us, dear,” came a voice, and the temperature dropped. “I have no idea what he did or said this time, but his overall existence suffices to do that, I feel.”
The scene changes, as a new pony appears: Enter Spoiled Rich, stage left, carrying a bag over her shoulder. She was a pink mare, darker than her daughter, and the kindest pony in the world would have described her as “straightforward”. Spoiled Rich could be read like a book [2], but it was the kind of book churches kept trying to burn.
[2] Just one look at her face and you could tell, for example, that this was a mare who believed nosejobs were a perfect substitute for happiness.
“And good evening to you too, Mother,” Diamond Tiara said, voice cold. “Goodbye.”
Spoiled Rich arched an eyebrow. “Excuse me? ‘Goodbye?’”
“Yes. I was trying to subtly imply that I’d like you to go away,” Diamond Tiara said. “A shame you didn’t get it. So. Go away.”
“Uh-huh.” Spoiled Rich nodded. “See, though, that’s the thing: I suspected that might be your intention, but seeing how this is you, I was afraid you had simply forgotten how greetings work.”
Diamond Tiara squinted. “Right.”
“I was subtly implying you’re an idiot here, dear,” Spoiled Rich said. “You know, seeing how we’re doing this now.”
Filthy Rich, through a mixture of sheer will and exhaustion, managed to smile at his wife. “Honey!” he said. “How are y—”
“Don’t worry, I also think you’re an idiot,” Spoiled Rich said, not even looking at Filthy Rich. “So there’s no reason to prove it with inane questions, dear.”
“Well.” Filthy Rich just sighed. “I love you too, then.”
“What are you doing here anyway, Mother?” Diamond Tiara asked. “It’s rare to see you in the house at this hour.”
“I had the sudden realization that I hate both you two and myself,” Spoiled Rich said. “So coming here was the easiest way to punish us all as efficiently as possible. Also,” and she dipped her muzzle in her bag, took something out, and threw it straight at her daughter’s face, hitting it with a thunk! “Happy Birthday.”
“You remembered it!” Filthy Rich said with glee. “I can’t believe you remembered it!”
“…I can’t believe you got me a present,” Diamond Tiara said, as she rubbed her muzzle and took a peek at the gift. “What’s this? A book?”
“I figured I’d get you something that fit your personality,” Spoiled Rich said. “So, yes. It’s the most disgusting book I could find—I honestly doubt it’s illegal.” She looked into the bag once more, and then tossed something to her daughter again, this time with more care. “It came with this. For when you’re reading it.”
Diamond Tiara blinked. “A… tiny cup?”
“Yes,” Spoiled Rich said. “And three tiny umbrellas.”
Diamond Tiara screeched, and threw the book away, trying to rub her hooves clean. Even Filthy Rich couldn’t help but jolt away from where the tome landed, his yelp drowned by his wife’s hearty laugh.
“…I’m sure she meant well,” Filthy Rich managed, twenty seconds later, once Spoiled Rich had finally gone away. Both he and Diamond Tiara were looking at the book with fear. “I mean. She was probably just joking.”
“Dad, can you please admit that you married a horrible pony and get over with it already?”
“She’s not a horrible pony,” Filthy Rich said, frowning. “She’s just… I’m sure there’s some good in the inside.”
“Yeah, that’s only true if she’s got a tumor.”
“Diamond Tiara! Don’t talk like th—wait, you’re picking up the book?” Filthy Rich blinked, looked to the door Spoiled had closed after her exit, then back at Diamond Tiara. “…Do you want me to burn it?”
“No.” Diamond Tiara, eyes full of determination, was indeed holding the book. “I’m keeping it.”
Filthy Rich teared up. “Oh,” he said. “Oh, I knew it! You two really love each other—”
“I’m keeping it so I can read it to her at night,” Diamond Tiara interrupted. “I’ll whisper it into her ear while she sleeps.”
A pause.
“Well, I’m sure it’s the thought that counts. I still believe you two love each other, in your way. Do you think you can read that, then?”
“We don’t love each other. We really, really don’t love each other.” Diamond Tiara shivered, and left the book aside. “And give me some weeks, and I’ll get used to it. I’ll be fueled by my own hatred.”
Here, Filthy Rich couldn’t help but smile. “Ah,” he said. “You’re talking like an honest businesspony already. You grow up so fast…”
“Ugh, Daddy. Don’t cry, it’s embarrassing.” She didn’t seem to mind it, though, by the way she was smiling. She sat down by the table once more, and Filthy Rich followed. “So, where were we? Breaking knees?”
“Yes, breaking knees.” Filthy Rich coughed to clear out his throat, and then put on his neutral voice again. This was business. This was important. “Of course, now and then, you meet a pony that can’t be intimidated with mere physical violence. That, sweetheart, is when we go for psychological torture. Usually, going for their closest friends and family does the trick…”
The conversation went on, and on, and on. Filthy Rich explained, in high detail, all the honest strategies he’d used to rise to the top as a young colt. Diamond Tiara paid close attention, and swore to herself that she’d honor her father’s legacy.
Immersed as they both were in the world of financial investment, however, both of them missed the play Fate made. It was subtle—almost too fast for the naked eye—but if they’d been paying attention, they might have noticed.
By the table, the book Spoiled Rich had bought vibrated slightly, and then changed. The cover was similar, almost the same, but the contents were completely different.
It had become a diary. A magical diary, beaten up by all those years sleeping under a bridge, forgotten by its rightful owner. The keen reader might recognize the last two lines, or at least, the impeccable hoofwriting in one of them.
“I need you,” reads the first one. “I’m coming,” reads the last.
And on the first page, the name of the owner: Sunset Shimmer, student of Canterlot High School.
FOURTH CHAPTER:
MOMMY ISSUES
Here’s the thing about the Throne Room:
It was stupid big.
It was the kind of big that made one question ‘why even bother, really’. The Princesses were tall, the Throne itself was magnificent—but the sheer size of that hall dwarfed them both. It made Celestia herself look weak, insignificant. It defeated the point of royalty.
Therein, though, lay its beauty. Celestia had been told this exact thing many times, and she’d always given the same answer: Sly smile. Five words.
“My dear, that’s the point.”
What the Throne Room had in symbolism, though, it lacked in practicality. Big rooms had a lot of inconveniences: they were hard to clean, first, and they were harder to mess up, second. Due to this, some ponies would think it was impossible to—say—party it up in just one afternoon.
Some ponies didn’t know Pinkie Pie.
The Party Cannon went a long way, sure, but it was the little details. Pinkie’s friends were amazing at preparing parties, because if you lived close to Pinkie Pie for over two years you got that skill through sheer osmosis. Take Applejack, for example.
Applejack could inflate three balloons in two and a half seconds. Both Pinkie and Rarity noticed this, but they refused to talk about it. Friendship could survive many things, but questioning why you’re so good at blowing in front of Fluttershy is not one of them. [3]
[3] There was, of course, a perfectly rational—and kid-friendly—explanation for this unusual lung capacity: Applejack was a big sister first, farmer second. Statistically, she spent more time yelling than blinking. Opera singers shattered glass with a high note; Applejack could shatter diamonds.
Applejack herself didn’t seem to notice this. She was too immersed in her conversation with Dash.
“So,” she was saying, effortlessly finishing up one bag of balloons, “you’re sayin’ they’re the same thing?”
“Yeah!” Dash was hovering close to the ceiling, pasting giant SUNSET SHIMMER WELCOME PARTY banners on the walls. “Sounds crazy at first, right? But then you realize it’s just common sense.”
Fluttershy had chosen to help Applejack with the blowing, and nopony had had the heart to tell her. She’d been chewing on the same balloon for fifteen minutes now, her little cheeks perfectly round, slight blush on her face. “Puff puff puff puff,” she said. She did not take the balloon off her mouth. It did not get bigger. There were still flowers in her mane. “Puff puff puff.”
“Yeah, Ah don’t get it either.” Applejack breathed life into three more balloons. “Are you sure this time-space compadre thing is not just silly talk, sugarcube?”
“Come on, Applejack. You heard Twilight say it. You just gotta think about it!” Dash took a little break from the posters to tap her temple and give her friends a meaningful look. “Pinkie told me, and she made sense.”
“Puff puff puff puff.”
“See, Shy gets it.” Dash went back to the poster. It wasn’t holding, so she just kicked it in place till it stuck. “I mean, you know how… Hey, you know how when you get distracted, you don’t do your job properly and you lose money?”
“Ah lose apples. But yeah.”
“Puff puff.”
“Well, when you do that, you’re wasting time. Right?” Dash said. “Because you’re spacing out.”
Silence.
Applejack blinked. “Well, darn.”
“Right? Blows your mind, doesn’t it?”
“Puff puff puff puff.”
“Ah gotta give it to you, sugarcube—you win this one. Time’n space.” Applejack gave a low whistle, and it was enough to inflate four more balloons. “Never would’ve guessed.”
“Puff puff puff.”
“Betcha you did, Fluttershy.”
“Okay. I don’t get it.” At the other side of the room, Spike put down the broom and crossed his arms, little baby face scrunched up. “Do they understand what Fluttershy is saying? Is she actually participating in the conversation?”
“Frankly, darling, I haven’t got the slightest idea.” Rarity was setting up the tables. It was a fine and delicate job, and so, it was taking her forever to do anything. Looked pretty, though. “But she looks happy, and that’s all that counts, isn’t it?”
“I guess?” Spike squinted, arms still crossed. “But it also sort of sounds like they’re talking around her? I think? Maybe Fluttershy is just puffing. Maybe they’re just doing this on purpose.”
“I have the feeling that Applejack and Dash would talk around Fluttershy even if she wasn’t just puffing, I’d say,” Rarity mused. “They go by their own little wavelength sometimes, don’t they?”
“They really do.”
A pause.
“But we still love them,” Rarity added.
“Oh, of course, of course. Definitely.” Spike picked up the broom again. “Absolutely.”
“Hey there!” Pinkie popped up between them, and while Spike jumped in surprise, Rarity didn’t even flinch. When you were as jaded as her, some things you just got used to. “How’s it going? Rarity, do you want me to help with the tables? Spike?”
“I would love that, actually,” Rarity mused. “I’m having a little bit of trouble here, I’m afraid.”
“Sure!”
And here, Pinkie hopped away from Spike and next to Rarity. At no point whatsoever did she pick up a plate, fork, or glass—but as she moved down the table by her friend’s side, everything was suddenly in place. Pinkie Pie was never seen setting up a party; parties naturally happened around her, and she went with the flow. “Like this?”
Rarity didn’t look at her. “That’s just marvelous, yes. Say.” And she made one little spoon float in front of her and examined it left and right. “I have to admit—you seem to have outdone yourself this time, Pinkie Pie. This silverware is amazing!”
“Thank you!” Pinkie said, and she meant it. She always meant it, but this time more than usual. “It better be. It was really expensive! I got it at that shop you told me about. What do you think about the food?”
“It’s got the Canterlot Seal of Quality written all over it,” Rarity said, giving the many fritters, pastries, and cakes a nod of approval. “And that cake. I’m not one for sweets, but that might be your best work yet, Pinkie.”
“Right? I think I bought every last cherry in Canterlot for that one!” Pinkie swiped off some nonexistent sweat from her forehead. “It was really a lot of work.”
“A lot of money, too,” Rarity added. “How much did you spend on this, again?”
“As much as I needed! Sunset Shimmer hasn’t been to a true Equestrian Party in ages. And I think she’s never been in a true Pinkie Party either!” Pinkie made a pout. “I had to outdo myself. She deserves it!”
This made Rarity pause.
“Hmm,” she muttered, and then she looked at Pinkie for the first time. “Does she, I wonder?”
And Pinkie gave her a knowing smile. “Ooooh. I get what you mean!”
“What?” Spike made his way up to the mares. “What does she mean? What do you mean? Am I interrupting?”
Rarity ruffled Spike’s spikes. “No, dear.”
“Then what do you mean?”
“She means that Sunset Shimmer is weird,” Pinkie said. “I like weird! But she’s weird. I like her!”
“You like everypony, Pinkie,” Rarity said.
“I do! That’s why I’m always so happy. So you don’t like her?”
“Hmm. I don’t know,” Rarity said. “I wouldn’t go as far as doing that; poor thing has been through so much. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? I can’t tell. I can’t really read Sunset Shimmer, Pinkie Pie. And Spike. She really only talks to Twilight, doesn’t she?”
“Sunset Shimmer really got along with Twilight in the human world,” Spike said, leaning against his broom, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “So maybe she’s just really comfortable around her?”
“That would explain it, if she was just treating Twilight as a friend,” Rarity said. “But… Isn’t she a little too comfortable?”
“Ooooooh.” Pinkie pointed at Rarity with her hooves in a way that made it clear that, had she had fingers, she would be making a gun shape with them. “Oooooh. I get what you mean!”
Rarity nodded. “Sharp as always, aren’t we?”
“I try to be!”
“I’m really not,” Spike said. “What?”
Rarity looked at Spike. He was a baby dragon, after all—maybe some concepts were out of his reach. Or maybe not. He could be surprisingly mature, sometimes. “I don’t know if Sunset really enjoys Twilight’s company,” she said, “or if she’s just avoiding us. But either way, I think she has ulterior motives. And, if you pardon my bluntness, she doesn’t seem to be nearly as scared of Equestria as she should be, don’t you think?”
“Yeah. She’s really laid back!” Pinkie said. “Really relaxed. She’s cool!” Her ear twitched. “Oh, hey, my ear just twitched. We should go to the corridor now. But she’s cool!”
Spike and Rarity stared at her.
“Pinkie sense,” Pinkie explained. “Ear twitch-a-twitch means Sunset Shimmer is going to walk into us getting ready for her party! We have to go out there and distract her! That was the twitch, and…”
Pause.
Her ear a-twitched.
“There’s the a-twitch! See? Quick, come with me. Are the tables ready?” They were. “They are! Go, go, go!”
There’s only so many ways you can react to Pinkie Pie—so Rarity and Spike just blindly followed her, demonstrating once more that if the pink thunderclap had chosen to become a cult leader, she’d have had the entire world at her mercy.
It took them thirty seconds, to run from one side of the Throne Room to the other—dashing through Applejack and Fluttershy, who was still puffing to no avail—and then to the door, cross it, slam it shut, turn around.
Twilight and Sunset Shimmer were there.
“Hi!” Pinkie said, in a perfectly normal voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Arguing,” Sunset said, giving Pinkie a blank smirk. Then, she turned to Twilight. “My room?”
“Hi, girls,” Twilight said, not even looking at Sunset. “Hi, Spike. Why are you so out of breath?”
“Oh, just. Huff. You know. Hufff.” Rarity was leaning on Pinkie, grabbing her side. Her face was slightly pink. “Oh, dear. We just, huff, thought it’d be a good idea to go for a jog. Didn’t we, Spike?”
“Gggggggggggg,” Spike said.
And all the ponies stared.
Now, it was in times like this when Spike became aware of his hardships. Because, being a baby dragon? Amazing. Wouldn’t change it for nothing. Claws and fire, teeth galore, can’t wait to mature a little and becoming a natural-born killer. Oh, boy. Apex predator. That’ll be fun.
But in the friggin’ meantime, being a bipedal character in a world full of quadrupeds was physically imposing to say the least. Having hands sounds great in theory: you can sew, you can play yo-yo, and you can say “Cowabunga” in sign language. Whole spectrum of skills needed to life a happy life, right there.
But if you had to run?
Golly gee gosh, if you had to run. Holy petunias on a park bench. Mamma Mia, Love Me Dearly. You have half the limbs, half the horsepower, and none the attitude. What a pony saw as a “light jog” was, to Spike, half a heart attack and a great deal of suffocation.
And he would have loved to tell this to all the mares in front of him. He really would. But, he was sort of dying at the moment.
“Gggggggggggg.”
So all was left unsaid.
“Boy,” Pinkie eventually said, poking Spike with a hoof. Spike wasn’t as much gasping for air as he was trying to drink the atmosphere. “He is not in shape, is he?”
“I… can’t help but agree,” Rarity said. “Spike, are you okay?”
“Gggggggggggg.”
“He’s not okay,” Pinkie said.
“And I think he’s going to faint,” Rarity said. “Twilight, dear, maybe he should lay down for a little bit. Care to carry him to his room?”
Twilight smiled apologetically. “I’m… sort of in the middle of something. Sorry, Spike.” She looked to the right, tone forcibly sweet. “Sunset, look, what if we just—”
The sugar went out of her voice. Sunset Shimmer wasn’t there.
“SUNSET SHIMMER!”
“Well,” Pinkie eventually said, once Twilight left, running after Sunset like an angry god chasing a butterfly. “That was lucky! Good thing we ran here, though. They almost ruined the surprise! Great acting, Spike.”
“Gggggggggggg.”
“Ooh. A method actor, aren’t you?” Pinkie giggled. Then, she turned around and opened the doors. “Come on, guys! There’s still a lot to do! Rarity, do you want to help me with the invitations?”
Pinkie trotted to one of the smaller tables, and Rarity came after her after a shrug, although a bit slower. Spike didn’t move, and then Dash, AJ, and Fluttershy approached them. “What was that?” Dash asked.
“Pinkie sensed Sunset Shimmer was going to walk on us,” Rarity said. “So we rushed to stop them. Then, our dear Twilight ran after Sunset.”
“Why?” AJ asked.
“Because Sunset also ran.”
“After Twilight?”
“No, I’m afraid she just ran, Rainbow, dear.” Rarity shrugged. “I would love to give you an explanation, but that mare is still a mystery to me. Now, if you excuse me, I’m still not done with the tables, so I’ll be going. Good job distracting them out there, Spike.”
“Gggggggggggg.”
“Huh.” Once Rarity left, Dash arched an eyebrow and looked at AJ. “You know? Rarity’s right. Sunset is pretty weird.”
“Ah think she’s straightforward enough. She wants to run, she runs. Ah can respect that!”
“Yeah, but she never speak to us, does she?” Dash shook her own head. “Have you ever, you know, had any actual conversation with her? Does she talk? Does she listen?”
“She’s really close to Twilight.”
“Yes, but that’s all she does. Maybe she just doesn’t like us?”
“Eh. Ah dn’t know.” AJ shrugged. “Maybe she’s just bad at talkin’. Some ponies can’t really just go and have a nice conversation with the first pony they see, don’t you think? Conversations can be hard. My brother’s like that.”
“I guess. We should probably give her a chance.”
“Puff puff puff puff?”
Spike blinked, still feeling fire—not the cool one—in his chest, then managed to look at Fluttershy. She was, very clearly, talking to him. Her eyes were glimmering a bit. She looked happy. She still hadn’t finished up that one balloon.
One look at Dash, another at Applejack, and Spike knew they weren’t going to help him, because they were just giving him perfectly normal looks. So instead, he just turned to Fluttershy, and tried to say something. Anything.
“Gggggggggggg.”
Light jog, Rarity had said. Light jog.
“Puff puff?”
“Gggggggggggg.”
And Fluttershy made a happy noise, and made a little dance. Then she patted Spike’s head and flew away, smile in her face, merrily puffing on her endless balloon.
“Well, ain’t you a charmer!” AJ said, elbowing Spike and giving him a really meaningful wink. “Didn’t know you had that in ya!”
“Smooth, Spike,” Dash added. “That was pretty cool. Anyway, AJ—communication, really. Either Sunset’s bad at communication, or she doesn’t like us. And why wouldn’t she like us? We’re great!”
“Ah couldn’t agree more with you, Dash. We’re amazin’ at talkin’ and listenin’, at least.”
And they went away, leaving Spike alone to get his breath back, or maybe faint. No real way to know.
“You have to dinner with Celestia!” Twilight said.
“No,” Sunset said.
And that was about the whole argument, in seven words. Everything else was window dressing, and a healthy bit of repetition.
It is—quite ironically—one of the greatest tragedies of all time how Reality doesn’t seem to be good at drama, because scenes like this would be much, much better against a bleeding night sky, with maybe some thunder thrown in it to add variety. Two of the most brilliant, strong-willed mares of all time faced each other with no intention of ever giving up, and there wasn’t even a whisper of background music.
Had this been planned by someone with a better understanding of the power of narrative, a full orchestra would have gone bonkers as Twilight and Sunset bared their teeth at each other. A whimsical chorus would have sang in a language that wasn’t quite Latin. Fire would burst from the ground. Rain would pour its heart down. It would have been a powerful moment.
But Reality is not a writer. It’s more of a bureaucrat.
So it happened between the four white walls of Sunset’s chambers, and the mares mostly hushed at each other like little children.
“But you have to!”
“But I don’t wanna!”
For what felt like hours.
“Sunset.” Twilight was not a patient pony, and this entire situation would have made Fluttershy grit her teeth. “It doesn’t matter if you want it or not. What you need to understand is that—this is bigger than you!”
“How on Equestria is this bigger than me, if it literally involves nothing but me?”
“It involves Celestia!”
“I meant nothing that I care about!”
“Sunset.” Twilight sighed. “Look, I mean it. This is bigger than you. This involves—this is the first step of your new life. This is how you start solving all your problems. Can’t you see that you need this as much as Princess Celestia does?”
“No, I can’t. Because that’s not true.” There was no place to sit down in that room aside from the bed, so Sunset had been forced to stand all this time. She was starting to feel tired. “This is very definitely not the first problem that I need to solve, because this isn’t a problem. Celestia doesn’t matter at all, there are more important things going on, and I’m not talking to her.”
“But you know you have to!”
“Oh, come on.” Sunset rolled her eyes. “So I tried to invade Equestria with a demon army once, big deal. That is not enough of a reason to have a heartfelt talk about anything! It’ll just be awkward for everypony!”
This made Twilight blink. “Wait, you thought you’ll be apologizing for that?”
“…I’m not?”
“I honestly forgot that happened. I was more thinking on how you left her side and went through the mirror the first time, actually.”
There was a rare moment of quiet and peace amidst the thunder that was their screaming. Twilight and Sunset both fell into deep thoughts, in perfect coordination, for three seconds.
Then they talked at exactly the same time.
“So I don’t have to apologize.”
“So you have to apologize twice.”
Then again, ‘perfect coordination’ was severely overrated.
“Oh, come on!” Sunset was screaming, pacing around the room while looking up in a baffled yet elegant way. She was great at Angry Walking—it came naturally to most middle-aged ponies, alongside Squinting™. “Look, I don’t know why you refuse to believe me, but I’m positive that Celestia feels exactly the same way I do about this whole thing. She doesn’t care! Nopony cares! That happened, we both moved on, no reason to bring this stuff back!”
“I know you moved on, it’s just that you moved on without really solving anything!” Twilight said, following Sunset with her eyes as she paced. “That’s the worst way to move on from things! You’re better off retracing your steps and—DO YOU REALLY NEED TO SWING YOUR HIPS NOW OF ALL TIMES?!”
“WHAT, IS THAT ANNOYING YOU, TOO?!”
“AS A MATTER OF FACT, YES!”
“WHY ON EQUESTRIA WOULD ME WALKING SEXY ANNOY YOU?!”
“BECAUSE YOU’RE REALLY GOOD AT IT!”
“WELL, IT’S NOT MY—Gosh, do you really think that?” Sunset stopped mid-step and looked at her own rump. “I was afraid I’d lost my touch. Doesn’t it look weird when I turn left?”
“No, no! It looks amazing!” Twilight shook her head, then got closer to Sunset to examine her rump, too. “I mean, it’s really impressive. I have no idea how you do it.”
“Why, thanks. That’s so kind of you to say.” Sunset shrugged, and wiggled her tail a little. “I don’t know, I just did it all the time when I was younger, and I guess it stuck. Have you tried it?”
“Sometimes? When nopony’s watching. But I can’t quite get the angle right, I think.”
“Oh, that’s just—it’s all about your knee, really. The hip is going to go up no matter what, that’s why it’s there, but you need to force it a little. See?” Sunset showed her. “Look at my profile. When I walk, I do this?”
“Like this?”
“No, no. You need to lift it a little more—that’s it! See? Try it now. Take two steps?”
Twilight walked a little, then her eyes got wide. “Oh. Wow. That feels weird.”
“But it looks good!” Sunset said, winking. “It takes some practice, but before you know it, you’ll be doing it all the time. You’d be surprised at how differently some ponies treat you when you swing your hips the right way.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Twilight wiggled her tail, and took two more steps. “I can’t help but think Dash would tease me about it, though.”
“Oh, leave her be. This kind of thing does wonders for one’s confidence.”
“Hmm-hmm.” Twilight looked at her own rump. “I guess. You know what else builds confidence?”
“What?”
“Apologizing.”
Silence.
“I AM NOT HAVING DINNER WITH—”
Rinse and repeat, for forty-five more minutes.
In the end, each mare managed to explain her thesis in full, which was never an easy thing when one’s too busy screaming. It went like this:
Twilight thought that Sunset’s first truly evil act, the one that had messed up her life at the start, had been betraying Celestia (twice). The only way to set right what once was wrong was to do it completely, and so, no matter how hard or awkward it went, she had to solve things with the Princess. At dinner. Ask for forgiveness, be forgiven, and start her path towards becoming a new pony.
Sunset thought that was a load of horseshoes, because what had messed up her life had been living under a bridge for over ten years. She’d betrayed Celestia as a little filly, and in all honesty, who cared by this point? It was better to deal with the real stuff—her (guaranteed) trauma, the fact that she had no home or family, all the time she’d wasted in the human lands, all the things she’d missed here in Equestria. She didn’t want Celestia’s forgiveness, and Celestia wouldn’t want to grant it anyway. For goodness’ sake, the Princess didn’t even like Sunset, so—
“Wait a minute.” Twilight frowned, lowering her voice. “What do you mean, Princess Celestia doesn’t like you? She likes everypony.”
“She really doesn’t. I’m kind of destroying her kingdom just by existing, Twilight.” Sunset was fuming. “Didn’t she suggest that you kick me out of Equestria and back to the human world? Like, right after meeting me?”
“She wasn’t suggesting it, she was just acknowledging the fact that it was an option,” Twilight said. “Because she’s wise enough to understand that sometimes, we have to make hard choices. But that’s—”
“Yeah, hard choices. Good thing it’s not a hard choice for her, though.”
“Sunset!” Twilight kicked the ground, to give her words more emphasis. “It’s that what this is about? Are you angry because the Princess suggested that we could stop Flower Fall by sending you back through the portal?”
“No,” Sunset said. Then she thought about it. “Well, maybe? It’s a factor. But mostly, I’m saying that I don’t want to talk with her because it’s useless. And I don’t want to. And I’m not going to do it.”
“This is all a huge misunderstanding, and exactly the reason why you should talk to her.” Twilight got closer to Sunset, and hugged her by the shoulders. “Can’t you see it? The mare you are today, the pony you became—it’s the little moments that make us, Sunset. You think nopony can forgive you, that everypony will turn on you. Because you’re projecting. You can’t trust Celestia, you can’t trust anypony, because you betrayed her all those years ago.”
Sunset made a face. “…I trust you,” she said.
“That’s really sweet. But precisely because you trust me, you need to have dinner with Celestia.”
“No.” Sunset got away from Twilight’s grip. “Precisely because I trust you, your entire argument is baseless, and I don’t need to have dinner with Celestia. You want to know what made me what I am today? Years of eating squirrels to survive. That’s what made the Sunset you’re seeing. So no. I’m sorry, but no. This is my final word.”
And here, Sunset took a deep breath, and said her piece with total, absolute conviction.
“I will not have dinner with Celestia.”
“I’m glad you could find time in your schedule to join me for dinner tonight, Sunset Shimmer,” Celestia said three hours later. “I hope you find the food to your liking.”
Sunset glared, and Twilight smiled.
It was going to be a long evening.
To set up the scene, one must never bring up the word “cozy” when describing the Dining Hall. Because it was cozy, but not entirely. Not where it mattered.
“Cozy” means many things, but to most, it means a crackling fire, the smell of soup and meat in the air, a feeling of warmth, a sleeping dog. “Cozy” means home, “cozy” means security. “Cozy” doesn’t mean seven hundred million servants waiting in the background, ready to serve you at a moment’s notice. “Cozy” doesn’t mean cold, stark walls, and total lack of character. Money can’t buy cozy.
But still, one could argue. Of all the extravagant rooms in Canterlot, the Dining Hall was the least egregious. Barely golden curtains. Ivory table, yes, but only moderately big. And the servants, while pretty, weren’t supermodels. And it smelled a little of food.
So.
Cozy.
For Canterlot, the Dining Hall was cozy. Even though “cozy” was the worst way to describe it.
“I am truly sorry I could not accept your invitation this afternoon,” Celestia said as the food was brought, along with their most expensive wine. “I’m afraid my schedule couldn’t allow it.”
“Oh, Princess.” Sunset gave Celestia her best smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I did not mind that.”
Twilight kicked Sunset under the table, and exactly at the same time Celestia nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. I trust Luna had no issues forwarding my message, then.”
Sunset’s smile didn’t falter. “Actually, she—”
“Didn’t,” Twilight cut, her voice sharp. “Have any issues. She didn’t have any issues. And she said her piece without trouble.” She beamed at Sunset. “Right?”
“Depends on what you consider ‘her piece’. She sorta tried to murd—”
“Sunset Shimmer,” Twilight interrupted again, speaking slightly louder now, “was really looking forward to this dinner, Princess. We’re glad you accepted our invitation, sort of.”
Celestia didn’t seem surprised by this. “I see,” she said. “I’m all ears, Sunset Shimmer.”
A pause.
“Your sister tried to murd—”
“After all,” Twilight continued. “You two haven’t seen each other in years.
“I can’t help but notice you keep interrupting Sunset Shimmer, Twilight,” Celestia mused as she took the fork and knife and started to work on her salad. “…Although it is true that we haven’t seen each other in years.” She took a bite. “So I suppose you have a point there.”
“Exactly!” Twilight said. “I have a point. I’m just, uh, I’m really good at pointing this kind of thing out.”
“Well. I assume you are.” Celestia took a small bite of her salad, and swallowed politely. “Seeing how you just did.”
“See? Makes perfect sense!” Twilight looked to her right. “Now, Sunset, dear?”
Sunset had started eating, too—and drinking. She hated wine with a passion, so she drank as much as she could without accidentally waterboarding herself. “Yes, Twilight, dearest?” she asked.
“Do you have anything to say?”
“Hmm.” Another gulp of wine. She took a bite of the salad, too, now that she was at it. “Well. Actually, yeah. Princess Celestia?”
“Yes?”
“Your sister tried to—”
“Anything to say after all these years you haven’t seen each other?” Twilight said, again slightly louder. “That is not going to start any new feuds with the crown?”
“Twilight.” Celestia didn’t raise her voice. Hers was a perfectly calm, perfectly controlled voice, and so the temperature seemed to drop three degrees the moment she talked. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but I am no fool. There’s no need to hide your intentions; I know exactly what is happening.”
Twilight’s ears dropped flat against her head. “I…”
“You want Sunset Shimmer and I to make amends for everything that happened all those years ago,” Celestia continued. She looked at Sunset Shimmer, who was still drinking. “The betrayal. The second, more elaborate betrayal. The fact that she’s destroying Equestria as we speak.”
Twilight looked down. “Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry, Princess.”
And to this, Celestia smiled, and visibly relaxed her shoulders. “You’re trying to do what you think is best, Twilight Sparkle. There’s no need to apologize for that.”
“How did you know?” Twilight asked. “Was it that obvious?”
“Yes. Also, you spent forty-five minutes yelling about this in Sunset’s chambers three hours ago,” Celestia said. She went back to her plate, taking small bites between sentences. “It was hard to ignore.”
“So.” Twilight sighed, and then—finally—took a bite of her own meal. It was pretty good. “I guess there’s no need to be subtle, then?”
“No, my dear.”
“Aaaaand we’re ignoring the fact that Luna tried to murder me,” Sunset pointed out.
“Well, at least that means that there’ll be no miscommunication,” Twilight said, taking another bite. “I helped Starlight Glimmer with this exact same situation long ago, and there was a bit of trouble in that field back then. So that’s a good thing!”
“We’re absolutely ignoring the fact that Luna tried to murder me. This is not going to be addressed.”
“No miscommunication,” Celestia agreed. “We can talk openly, and from the heart.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Princess,” Twilight said. “So, will you forgive Sunset Shimmer? So she can start anew, and move on with her life, and solve all her problems?”
“No. I won’t.”
And then, silence.
A really, really long silence.
“You should really eat your salad, Twilight Sparkle,” Celestia added, taking another bite. “It will get warm otherwise.”
Sunset looked at Twilight, at Celestia, then at her own wrinkly hooves. Then her horn flashed and her cup levitated towards her. “Well,” she said. “This just keeps getting better, doesn’t it.”
Twilight was dumbfounded. “I don’t—Princess, I don’t think I understand.”
Celestia nodded. “I am not forgiving Sunset Shimmer,” she repeated.
“Yep.” Sunset tapped the table, glass of wine floating next to her face. “Story checks out. Can I go now?”
Twilight didn’t even look at her. “No, you can’t. This is important. This is for your sake.”
“D’aaaw. That’s sweet. Also, shoot. Also, d’aaaw.”
“I can’t forgive what, in good conscience, can’t be entirely blamed on Sunset Shimmer herself, Twilight,” Celestia explained. She was almost finished with her salad. “While admittedly I didn’t notice this until recently, she was bound to betray me at some point. And please eat your food; it’d be terrible if it went to waste.”
“Yeah, Twilight.” Sunset poked her on the side, face suddenly serious. “Eat your vegetables. You’re too thin, you need some more meat on those bones. You’re still growing!”
“I have to agree with Sunset Shimmer here, I’m afraid,” Celestia mused, eyeing Twilight like a farmer eyes a turkey. “You do seem to look unhealthy. Are you taking proper care of yourself?”
“Oh, she definitely isn’t,” Sunset said, frowning, chugging some more wine. “Don’t you see those bags under her eyes, Princess? I bet she’s not sleeping properly.”
Twilight blinked. “Um.”
“A good rest is fundamental for both the mind and the body, my dear Twilight.” Celestia’s horn flashed, and some more food was put on Twilight’s plate. “Here. Please, be my guest. I worry about you.”
“Yes, yes, I keep telling you.” Sunset’s horn also flashed, and more food was brought into Twilight’s plate. “All that time in the Library, reading in the dark? Can’t be good for you. Now, eat.”
“Okay. I’m sorry.” Twilight squinted. “Can we...? Can we focus on Sunset’s redemption here for a bit, and ignore my eating habits? If you don’t mind?”
“Sure, as long as you eat,” Sunset said, staring. “I want to see you chew, young lady.”
“Ugh.”
“All right. That’s my girl.” Sunset patted Twilight’s hoof once the latter started chewing in an overly exaggerated way, and then turned to Celestia. Her voice was noticeably less warm when she spoke next. “So,” she said. “Bound to betray Equestria.”
Celestia nodded. “Indeed.”
“Because…” Sunset made a rolling gesture with her hoof. “…Evil runs through my veins?”
Celestia’s eyes sparkled slightly. “I’m not qualified to say,” she said, as she placed down her fork and her knife. The plate in front of her was empty. “But it is true that sooner or later, no matter what, you would have tried to kill us all, yes.” A pause. “Or enslave us. Depends on your character.”
“I’m more the enslaving type.”
“I see.”
“Also, that’s an interesting thing to say.” Sunset looked especially middle-aged, now. It was something in her eyes, in her posture. “I would have liked to know that before spending twelve years being routinely stabbed, Princess.”
“I’m sorry. I would have acted—but as I said, I didn’t know this at the time.” Celestia sighed. “It’s a mistake that has cost me greatly, Sunset Shimmer. Believe me: you did not pay the greatest price in this.”
“Yes.” Sunset nodded. “That is something you say when you haven’t been twelve years being routinely stabbed, Princess.”
“You’d be surprised,” Celestia muttered. “Many talented unicorns that excelled in magic have tried to take over Equestria at least once, Sunset Shimmer. In the last twelve years alone… How many, my dear Twilight?”
Twilight swallowed her mouthful of salad and gave it a bit of thought. Trixie, Starlight Glimmer, Sombra, Luna… “I’ve honestly lost count,” she admitted.
“Exactly.” Celestia looked at Sunset. “You’re just one of them. Being a student under my wing did nothing but… worsen the situation.”
“Wait. So, talent implies megalomaniac tendencies?” Sunset arched an eyebrow. “Because if that’s the case, I’m flattered, but—”
“Not exactly. Certain conditions are required.” Celestia looked lovingly at Twilight. “My dear Twilight,” she said. “If I may ask, how is Twilight Velvet doing lately?”
“Oh? Uh.” Twilight blinked. “Um. Well. She’s doing fine, Princess. I saw her earlier this week. She’s working on her new book.” She saw that Sunset was looking at them with what might as well have been a giant interrogation sign floating on top of her head, so she said, “My mother. Twilight Velvet is my mother.”
Celestia nodded. “I’m glad to hear she’s doing fine. Now, Sunset Shimmer, if you don’t mind me asking—what about your mother? Did you visit her, too, now that you’re back in Equestria?”
Absolute silence.
Sunset threw away the glass and just went straight for the wine bottle. “Nope,” she said. “Not going there. Not a conversation I’m willing to have. Nope.” And she started drinking.
Loudly.
“And,” Celestia pointed—the noise Sunset was making as she swallowed the wine was something like CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG—and then looked at Twilight, “there you have it. That’s the reason why Sunset Shimmer was destined to take over the world.”
Twilight looked at Sunset. “…Because she’s an alcoholic?”
“Filial resentment.”
Speaking with Celestia was an exercise in politeness, Twilight had found a really long time ago. One felt the urge to act in an overly formal manner, but she always had the upper hand. Usually, Twilight was pretty good at understanding what Celestia meant, but now and then, she would need a second or two to really grasp a particular concept.
This was one of those cases.
“…Mommy issues?” Twilight finally said. “You mean that Sunset—you mean that every villain I’ve fought had mommy issues?”
Celestia smiled. “Yes.”
CHUG CHUG CHUG. CHUG. Chug, chug, chugggg. “Blorgh.” Sunset finished up the bottle of wine and half-burped, half-gagged. A servant quickly approached her with a new one, and she grabbed it. “Aaah, hah. Haaaah. Oh, gosh. Oh, sweet heavens. My throat burns.” Her eyes were red. “I think I’m dying. I’m never doing this again—”
“Sunset,” Twilight said, looking at her. “Do you have mommy issues?”
“—AAAAND BOTTOMS UP.” CHUG CHUG CHUG CH—
“A lack of guidance in one’s early life, combined with an abnormal level of magical talent, can warp one’s perceptions of the world,” Celestia said. She grabbed her glass of water and took a small sip, then eyed Sunset. “Or, one’s morals. I have found that every major villain seems, indeed, to have a story of filial resentments… And that most talented unicorns with filial resentments become villains.”
This gave Twilight some pause. “So that’s why I didn’t try to invade Equestria?”
“Yes. You have a great relationship with your parents; that’s why you never tried to kill anypony.” Celestia shrugged. “Sunset Shimmer, however… I can not blame her for what she did. She was bound to do it.”
CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG.
“But… Your sister is one of those villains, Princess,” Twilight said. “Doesn’t that mean that you, too…? Actually, now that I think about it, do you even have—”
“Oh, look!” Celestia interrupted, turning to the left, where a new servant had just appeared. “A distraction!”
CHUG CHUG CHUGG chug chug chugggg. “BLORGH. WHAT.”
Twilight frowned. “Princess. I—”
“WAIT IS THAT A DISTRACTION.”
“It is,” Celestia said.
“GREAT. SOMEONE BRING ME A BUCKET.”
Quick as lightning, the servants danced around the table, taking empty plates—giving Sunset a bucket—and serving up the second course: Boiled daisies, with vanilla sauce. Not precisely the classiest of meals; this was the kind of food you ate in a fast-food restaurant. “Your favorite,” the Princess explained when Twilight blinked at the meal.
“…It is,” Twilight admitted, looking from the meal to Celestia. “Or, it was. When I was just—”
“—A little foal.” Celestia chuckled softly, in a way only she could make elegant. In the background, Sunset was regurgitating loudly into her bucket. [4] “Well, this is a meal better suited for little foals, rather than elegant dinners, don’t you think?”
[4] BLOAARGHBRLARBAGHBBLRAAAARGH.
BLOARGHBARGHOOAAAGHAARGGHHHBOAARRGH. BOARGHBORGHGGGGHOOORGHAAAAH.
“I guess,” Twilight replied, laughing a little, too. “Wow, Princess. It’s been a long time since I ate this. It’s so nostalgic.” She took a spoonful. “Hmm. And good!”
“I’m glad to hear this. I was telling the truth earlier, you know?” Celestia took a spoonful herself, though she didn’t make any noises of appreciation. “I did miss our dinners. We used to have them three times a week, when you were my personal student, way before Ponyville.” She sighed. “Those days… Sometimes, I miss them a little.” A pause. “Don’t tell Luna, though.”
“I won’t.” Twilight played a bit with her food. Just a bit. “And, me too. A little.” Then, just to make sure, she added: “this is really good. Thank you, Princess.”
“You’re more than welcome.”
And after that, they ate in silence for a little bit. The food was good—not as good as the salad, but it wasn’t about the flavor, at this point. They both enjoyed the meal for what it was.
It was a sweet moment.
And maybe this is what truly started it all.
Because there’s an art in eating in silence. When conversation dies out, only the click-clack of the cutlery against the plates is left, and its volume is raised tenfold. Every little movement is made more apparent, every little thought is suddenly easy to read.
Eating in silence, the mood becomes visible, tangible. Eating in silence is born out of awkwardness, but also comes when talking is not necessary.
And with Twilight and Celestia, those click-clacks harmonized.
So maybe this little moment, this small pause where nopony did nothing but eat and enjoy themselves, maybe this is what really caused it all. More than Sunset discovering that photo of her old self, more than Twilight asking her to cross the mirror. This is what started it.
Or maybe it was the sweet scent in the air, the petals falling down outside the window.
Whatever it was, Sunset noticed. Her face hardened. Her throat was raw—the bucket was pretty much full—and her mouth tasted bitter. So she didn’t share the moment. She just witnessed it, saw how well Twilight and Celestia got along, how deep their bond went.
Almost like a mother and a child, really. Compared to how Sunset had got along with Principal Celestia, there was a world of difference…
“You’re wrong,” Sunset said, with a voice that did not sound like hers.
The spell was broken, and Celestia and Twilight blinked back into reality, away from their meal. “I’m sorry?” Celestia said.
But Twilight, who knew Sunset better, just reached to her with a hoof. “Sunset?” she whispered. “You okay? You sound a little—”
“I said you’re wrong,” Sunset repeated, a little louder. She wasn’t exactly feeling angry, but she wasn’t calm either. For some reason, she was keenly aware of the sweet smell around them, something sweeter than the simple vanilla sauce on the boiled daisies. “About your theory.”
“My theory?”
“Me. Betraying Equestria.” Sunset took a deep breath, but that only filled her lungs with that sweet scent. She coughed, then talked again. “It wasn’t bound to happen.”
“I was just—”
“I met my human counterpart,” Sunset blurted out. “She wasn’t a… She never did anything. Like betraying Equestria, or the human dimension. She’s… She’s a successful woman. I saw it on the newspaper.”
Celestia looked at Sunset, with eyes as calm as a pond in winter. “I see.”
“So I wasn’t bound to do anything like that—family issues aside, that wasn’t my destiny or anything like that.” Sunset hadn’t touched her boiled daisies. She wasn’t really hungry. “So you were wrong.”
“That’s… I didn’t know that,” Twilight said, speaking carefully. She eyed the Princess, but she never stopped facing Sunset. “That’s actually an interesting point. Maybe your relationship with your parents isn’t as important as we thought it was? That would make sense. Applejack doesn’t have parents either, and she’s never tried to take over the world.”
Both Sunset and Celestia looked at Twilight, glares equally hard.
Twilight blinked. “…Well, except for that time. But that doesn’t count, does it?”
“It does.”
“It does.”
“Well, then I guess I just give up.”
“Sunset Shimmer,” Celestia said, looking back at the aforementioned pony, tone polite as it can be. “I did not know about your human counterpart, but I’m glad she’s living a good life. However…”
“Yeah.” Sunset looked at the wine, then at Celestia. She did not grab the bottle. “You won’t forgive me either way, will you?”
And Celestia had to close her eyes, and look down. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“You aren’t.”
“Um.” Twilight looked to both mares, and her ears went flat against her head. Her voice sounded tiny, insecure. Not fit for a princess—fit, rather, for a little foal. One who enjoys boiled daisies with vanilla. “Sunset? Princess?”
“I am doing what’s best, Sunset Shimmer,” Celestia said, still avoiding her gaze. “I hope you understand. This is not for—”
“Oh, I get it all right. But don’t worry, I’m not angry.” Sunset rubbed her muzzle, to cover her face for a second or two. “I just wanted to make that clear. You just don’t like me. There’s no reason to excuse yourself, or make up a reason for it.”
“Um. Sunset.” Twilight touched Sunset’s shoulder. She did not back away. “I think you… might have had a little too much to drink?”
“I think the same, my dear Twilight,” Celestia chimed. “Sunset Shimmer, I think you’ve had enough.”
Sunset rolled her eyes. “I did not.”
Twilight felt the tension leave her body. A little, at least. Sunset had sounded like Sunset again, there. “You drank two bottles of wine in little under twenty minutes,” she said.
“Well, that’s hardly anything if I’m trying to be an alcoholic,” Sunset retorted. “That’s a long-time goal of mine, remember? I can’t just give up like that.”
“I appreciate that you have some sort of inner logic, but I really hate how it works, Sunset.”
“You’re lovely too, Twilight.”
“I would prefer it if you didn’t drink anymore tonight, Sunset Shimmer,” Celestia said, going back to her plate. “While wine might be good in smaller quantities, too much might—”
“Hey, you only live once. Better to live it to its fullest.” Sunset grabbed the bottle and filled her glass, then raised it. “You know what this lacks? A cherry. Would give it the punch it really needs.” She nodded at Twilight. “Want to try it?”
Twilight made a face. “I don’t really do wine.”
“Come on. Just a sip?”
“No.”
“No.”
A pause. That second ‘no’ hadn’t come from Twilight. It hadn’t come from Sunset, either. And it had sounded surprisingly harsh.
Celestia coughed into her hoof, fluttering her wings ever so slightly. “I mean,” she said, when the other two didn’t stop staring. “I… Would rather you didn’t, Twilight. Wine is not good for you.”
“Hey, you have to try it at some point,” Sunset said, swinging the glass side to side. “Why not Canterlot Wine? It’s the best.”
“She really shouldn’t,” Celestia said.
Sunset pretty much shoved the glass into Twilight’s face. “Come on!” she said. “You have to live a little, Twilight. You’re too sheltered.”
“No. No, she doesn’t.” Celestia’s horn flashed, and Sunset lost her grip on the glass of wine, which instead floated all the way back to the Princess. “And she isn’t. She’s perfectly safe and healthy as it is.”
“Um,” Twilight said.
“What? How is this—ugh.” Sunset made a huff. “Princess, did you know Twilight has never had a boyfriend yet?” she asked.
“Um,” Twilight said.
“That is not important,” Celestia said, and her words made it clear this was final. “Twilight is still growing, she’s working towards saving Equestria every day, and she can’t afford to damage her mind with alcohol.” She put the glass of wine down by her side, then smiled at Twilight. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she said: “But… seriously? Never?”
“Okay, why are we talking about this, exactly?”
“Never!” Sunset said, slamming the table with her hooves. “Can you believe it, face as pretty as hers? She’s never been with anypony!”
“Well, I.” Celestia fought back a smile. “Why. That’s. Such a waste.” Then, she frowned ever-so-slightly. “But you surely have your fair amount of suitors, don’t you, Twilight?”
Twilight was slowly but surely getting redder by the moment. “I don’t—this is not something to discuss, and what I do with my life…”
“I can not believe it, no matter how many times I hear it,” Sunset said, shaking her head. “Twilight Sparkle, one day you’ll open your wings and fly, and you’ll wish you’d started sooner. Trust me: youth only lasts so long.”
“You’re set on ignoring anything I say regarding this issue, aren’t you?”
“Now, now.” Celestia said, going back to her plate. “Nothing wrong with being a late bloomer, Sunset Shimmer. Twilight is free to do whatever she wants.”
“Thank you!” Twilight said, raising her hooves to the ceiling. “Seriously, this is not a—”
“Ah-hah!” Sunset pointed at Celestia. “See? See what I was talking about before, saying she was sheltered? You pamper her!”
This made Celestia pause, and widen her eyes. “Excuse me?”
“You pamper Twilight!” Sunset repeated. “You’re not letting her grow up!”
Twilight squinted and rested her head on her hooves. “You two know I’m an adult, right? An actual adult. I have agency.”
“I am letting her grow up at her own pace,” Celestia said, still calm and collected. “Because I understand that she’s an individual, and we can’t force her to do things she doesn’t want to.”
“Oh, please. First the wine, now this… Why do you think she doesn’t have a boyfriend? Because you won’t let her!”
“I have, like, all the agency. I love my agency.”
“I am not guilty of Twilight not having a boyfriend,” Celestia said. “I merely… take care of her.”
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t,” Sunset said. “Maybe that’s exactly the problem here, that you keep doing this, choosing everything for her, always knowing what’s better! Maybe that’s not what Twilight needs!”
“I disagree.”
“Of course you disagree. But that doesn’t make it right! She can—she’s entitled to live her own life, Princess! She doesn’t have to answer to your every whim, to, to live under your shadow!”
A pause.
Twilight licked her lips. “This… is not about me, is it?”
“You are not doing this for Twilight,” Sunset continued, staring at Celestia with eyes that had no love in them. “You’re doing this for yourself. Because you’re alone. Because you want Twilight to be exactly like you.”
Celestia didn’t flinch. She was too old, to powerful, to flinch at words anymore. She had too much composure, too much self-control.
But in that moment, she wished she could. She wished she wasn’t forced to be the bigger pony in every situation. She wished she was, if only, a little less wise for a moment.
And she said: “Sunset Shimmer. I understand what you’ve been through, even if you don’t believe me. I understand that sometimes we can’t be held responsible for our actions, when the world has shaped us in a certain way. But I can, and I will, hold you responsible for what you do on your own volition.”
Sunset hardened. “Shut up.”
“You don’t want me to help Twilight. But I will do that.” Celestia kept her tone casual. Relaxed. “Because she still has the chance to be better than I ever was. She already ascended, and that was but the start of her journey. She has potential, and she’s working to fulfill it, and I will never leave her side until she does that.”
“You’re making a mistake. She doesn’t need—”
“And,” Celestia interrupted, “as much as that pains you, as much as that makes her grow further away from you, there’s no way you could convince me to do otherwise, and you know it. Because the only way for Twilight to be like you is if I abandoned her, and I would never do that to her. Because you being unhappy is not an excuse to drag Twilight down with you.”
Sunset took a deep breath. She shaking a little. “I don’t want to drag her down.”
“But you do, because it’s too late for you.” Celestia never blinked. “I’m sorry. I’m truly, truly sorry. But that’s the truth. It didn’t have to be this way—in other life, I’m sure you could have been a good mare, but—”
“Good?” Sunset bared her teeth. “’Good’?! You look at me, you see what I went through, you see how I am, and you say I could have been ‘good’?! I could have been much more than good! I could have been great!”
You could have been great.
The words burned.
Sunset stopped, immediately, but her voice echoed through the hall, saying the words back at her, reminding her of what she’d just said.
“I could have been great,” she repeated. This time, a whisper. And she looked down, at her own hooves. At her wrinkled, fragile hooves.
In that moment, she looked older than ever.
And so, without saying anything else, she got up and left the room, running.
“Twilight,” Celestia said when Twilight tried to go after her. “I think she needs to be left alone.”
Twilight looked at the door—Sunset had left it open—and then back at Celestia. “But, Princess, I—”
“I’m sorry,” Celestia repeated, and she meant it. “I’m truly sorry, but this—it had to happen. I believe in redemption, Twilight Sparkle, but I also believe Sunset Shimmer is beyond saving.”
Twilight felt something cold in her stomach. “But,” she said. “But, Princess…”
“I know. I’m sorry. But what you think will help her is not what she wants.” Celestia sighed. “I’m not sure if it’s what she needs. She’s best left alone, because nothing that you can do will truly help her. Sunset Shimmer believes in redeeming herself, but her definition of redemption is not the same as yours. You have to give up on her.”
Twilight didn’t stutter. “But she’s my friend.”
And Celestia nodded. “I know. That’s why I’m apologizing. It’s never easy.”
And she meant it.
Twilight felt so tense she could snap. Celestia pointed at her chair, signaling her to sit down and finish her meal, but Twilight could still hear Sunset Shimmer’s hoofsteps as she ran away through the corridors of the Castle.
The thing is, Celestia was right. It didn’t take a lot to realize that Sunset Shimmer’s efforts hadn’t been exactly focused on getting her life straight. If anything, she was more centered on messing it up all over again, only this time, in a different way.
So the smartest option, the safest option, would be to listen to her mentor. To let Sunset go, maybe even to ask her to go back to the human dimension. That would solve everything. That would make everything right in Twilight’s life again.
But that would mean she had made a mistake, and that she had abandoned a friend.
So Twilight looked at Celestia, Sunset’s hoofsteps growing weaker in the background, and in that moment she made a choice. She made a choice out of love, out of kindness. Because she was the Princess of Friendship, and she couldn’t leave Sunset like that. It was a mistake. It would mean nothing but trouble, maybe something that not even Twilight could fix. It would mean putting her pride as a friend above her own reason.
But here’s the thing about pride:
It tells you the fall was worth it.
“I’m sorry, Princess,” Twilight said. And she turned around, and ran after Sunset Shimmer.
Princess Celestia was left alone, her meal, now cold, abandoned. But she didn’t get up—she just stood there, staring at the door, staring at the space where Twilight had been just a couple minutes ago. And she, too, looked older than ever.
“It didn’t go well, I take?”
Celestia blinked, and looked to her side. From the shadows came out Luna, grave expression on her face—although she was looking at Celestia, not at the door.
Celestia just sighed. “It didn’t,” she said. “I believe it’s my fault.”
“You said the truth.”
“But sometimes I wonder if the truth is worth saying. I love Twilight Sparkle, Luna. To me, she’s like…” The words choked her. “She’s dear to me,” she said. “I only want the best of her. To see her grow to her full potential.”
Luna nodded. “And you fear Sunset Shimmer might hurt her.”
“I don’t fear it, Luna,” Celestia said. And her eyes went to the door once more. “I know it.”
And after this, none of them said a word for a very long time.
“Hey, did they tell you how I tried to murder that mare this very morning?”
“Really not the moment, Luna.”
Twilight wasn’t the most athletic pony out there, but Sunset Shimmer was rather middle-aged, and had just drank two entire bottles of wine. Twilight caught her just before she reached the Throne Room.
“Sunset!” she yelled, and Sunset didn’t have the strength to walk away. “Sunset,” Twilight repeated, nuzzling Sunset’s face with concern. “Are you—are you okay?”
Sunset said nothing. She just looked away.
“Sunset, we have to talk about this.”
“We don’t.”
“You said a lot of things back there, and I think I can help you, but I need you to talk to me.”
“I told you eating with Celestia was a mistake.”
Twilight made a face. “The Princess was… a little unreasonable.”
A pause.
Sunset blinked, and looked at Twilight. “A little.”
“I mean—”
“Didn’t she sort of insult everything I stand for? I think she insulted everything I stand for. But, you know. A little.”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, that’s twisting the facts. Look, she… worries a lot about me, that’s all. It’s just that, well. She’s like a mother to me, right?” She blushed a little here, and smiled. “And—gosh, this is embarrassing to say—maybe she’s just a tiny bit worried about me growing up. But that’s all!”
Sunset sighed. “That’s not really all. That’s not a good way to treat you. And you’re exactly like her.”
Twilight blinked. “What?”
“That’s how you’re treating me, too. Pampering me, sort of. And I don’t really know if I want that.”
“Sunset Shimmer.” Twilight sighed, and nuzzled Sunset again. She pressed a hoof against the door that led to the Throne Room. “Look, this isn’t working. We need to have a heart-to-heart, you and I. And I mean a true heart-to-heart.”
Sunset moaned.
“No. Hey. Listen to me.” Twilight forced Sunset to look her dead in the eye. “I really mean it. An actual talk. No alcohol, no distractions, no changing topics all of a sudden because we get distracted. I’m sure that if we just share an honest talk, we can—”
“SURPRIIIIISEEEEEE!!
The doors to the Throne Room opened, and a cavalcade of ponies, confetti, and party flavors practically fell on top of Sunset and Twilight. The Throne Room was decorated to the brim—posters, games all over the place, food and drinks galore. Every pony wore a party hat. There was a seemingly lost bankpony wandering around the background.
All their friends were there, even Spike, and they were all grinning and looking at Sunset. The words “SUNSET SHIMMER WELCOME PARTY” were written on every single banner in the room.
“It’s a welcome party!” Pinkie explained, then, just to make sure that the whole gesture didn’t fly over anypony’s head.
And after this, silence.
Twilight, eyes wide, looked at her friends. Then, she looked at Sunset, and saw she was almost grinning. And horror crept into her. “No,” she whispered.
“Yes,” Sunset whispered back.
“Sunset, don’t you dare—”
“I’m sorry, Twilight,” Sunset said, this time a little louder, unmistakable smile on her face. “It’s just—are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
“No no no we’re not doing this we’re not doing this—”
“BECAUSE WHAT I SEE HERE.”
The crowd started cheering.
“DON’T YOU DARE.”
The crowd cheered louder.
“IS A HELL OF A DISTRACTION.”
The crowd went bonkers.
“NO!”
Yes.
And that was it.
A lonely mare, reading alone. Old demons by her side, and she feels the lack of warmth around her. Nostalgia overwhelms her, but there are no good memories. There’s a sweet scent in the air.
She sighs.
She opens a new book.
She finds the answer.
The past is a scary place, but it will always lead up to the present—and now Moondancer has seen it. Because she used to read, back in those days, and if you read, if you study, you learn. And if you learn, you don’t make the same mistakes twice.
Moondancer comes back to reality, with a snap not unlike that of bones breaking. Nostalgia will overwhelm again in no time, but it won’t matter, because she’s really found it. She knows what Flower Fall does. She knows what Flower Falls is.
It’s Time.
It’s Time coming back, overlapping with itself. Old demons. Old memories. Nostalgia. And every pony now remembers, and in so, they forget.
Canterlot is literally haunted by its past.
And Flowers Fall.
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Yeah. This was a light chapter.
That fucking dinner was tough to get down, yo. Hope y'all like it. PLOT IS THICKENIN'.
So like... Celestia can fuck off? I mean, Sunset has clearly made grave errors in her past, and she's done some less than savory things, but fuck Celestia. You can't say someone was destined to be a certain way, and then immediately denounce them as trash for the choices they made. That's not how it works. Either they had a choice or they didn't. Either they could've been anything, or they were only going to be one thing. Either way, if Sunset has even the faintest desire to improve herself and her lot in life, who the fuck is Celestia to say she doesn't have a chance?
I mean for fucks sake, Trixie, Starlight, and Luna all turned away from the darkness that Celestia oh so assures us is a certainty for mares like that, and all of those happened specifically because of Twilight. What's different about Sunset where the same couldn't be true? And choosing not to forgive Sunset no matter what? Jesus, what a cunt. Now I want Twilight to be successful just for the sake of spiting Celestia. But wait, no, then she'll just claim all the glory for herself because her student did so soooo good. Fuckin big white bitch
This story has sex in it, right?
7984847
Celestia clearly knows more about Sunset Shimmer than you do, or any of us as the readers. You forget we're reading just a snippet, a cough in the face of Sunset Shimmer's lifetime. Not even a speck in the vast well of knowledge and experience that goes into the mind of an immortal. Immediately seguing into reader's bias, pointedly ignoring that we not only don't know the characters as well as they know themselves or others around them know them, just to be angry at something is usually a case of being over-emotional at least, and projecting at worst, taking situations between completely different people as personal.
Wait and see how things turn out before jumping to conclusions.
7985214
I think where some of us take exception is the way in which Celestia presented her arguments.
Because there is absolutely no way anyone can deny that she was telling the Princess of Friendship how to do her job.
7985214 It's almost like I'm allowed to react to what a character says and does when I read it. If her attitude changes or is justified in later chapters, I'll adjust my feelings towards her appropriately. Until then, don't assume anything about me, and take your psychoanalysis bullshit somewhere where it's wanted/appreciated.
You'd think that someone getting invested in a story would be a good thing, but nope, apparently to you I should think a certain way and adjust my own feelings according to how you interpret the story. My bad.
Celestia's argument seems to boil down to "Sunset you were destined to be irredeemably evil solely due to a poor relationship with your mother." There is no blame for any other strong female/mentor figures in Sunset's life (CELESTIA), This does a nice job of portraying the "stuck in her ways" immortal who due to being essentially deified by everyone can not understand that they are fallible after a thousand years of solitary rule. Might be my bias against the sun tyrant, but well written, believable and sort of reminds me of Marie from Everybody Loves Raymond.
Interesting chapter. While the characters have aged enough to nearly be OCs, their canon past is very evident in their current forms.
Prize should be price.
7985146
Not that I'm aware of?
This story is becoming more and more absurd, and I can't help but loving it even more with each chapter
7985470
Actually, if you read that part again she's not telling the Princess of Friendship how to do her job. She's telling Twilight Sparkle that Sunset Shimmer (who, for years, has shown no desire to get better and wants to be worse) is going to drag her down with her. Just like how Twilight didn't rebuff the Princess of the Sun, but rather she told Celestia that she was going to try anyway. That's an important distinction.
If Aragon's similar to most Fimfic authors, they'll be using Celestia as a sort of knee-jerk reaction antagonist, and thus she is destined to be wrong despite knowing more about everyone involved than any of us ever could, and in some cases more about themselves than they'll ever know. Because that tends to be how everyone writes her. If the writer is breaking away from that, we might actually find that Sunset Shimmer will stay on this self-destructive path, and Twilight will (for once on this site) have to make the hard decision to go down with the ship or evacuate onto a lifeboat, figuratively speaking, and the story will be resolved in some way other than 'Twilight Sparkle, against all odds, reaches the other person and makes their life better'. The author has set it up where Celestia apparently has her own demons to overcome, as well, so that lends tentative hope towards the latter.
Or something completely new! Which is wonderful to think about. That was the point of my 'wait and see' earlier. Getting angry and drawing battle lines this early on is pointless, we know nothing of the story's unfolding. And if it turns out one was wrong to be angry, then that's just egg on the face.
Dammit, who left a bowl of chopped onions here?
7986106
It's secret sex. It manages to hide even from the author.
But oooh boy, Is It there.
7986182
Alright. I'll accept your reasoning for now.
But only because there's no good reason not to! It certainly isn't because I think you might be right or something!
7984847 There is also the fact that Celestia took over as the 'Mother Figure' for both Twilight and Sunset. The difference being that she failed with Sunset, letting her have too much 'freedom' and growing up. While with Twilight, she pampers her and controls her life, not letting her grow up.
So if what Celestia said is true, then for Sunset SHE is the failed Mother, and it's her fault Sunset went evil.
7986182
I disagree on that notion.
Canon!Celestia doesn't exactly have a stellar record in dealing with the ponies closest to her.
Luna first went insane with loneliness and jealousy and after being purified turned to depression and self-harm, right under Celestias nose.
In both cases Celestia either did not realize that there was a problem with Luna or failed to do something about it, until it was to late.
Celestia failed to find anything suspicious in Chrysalises rather poor impersonation of Cadence. Twilight picked up on it and she hasn't known Cadence for as long as Celestia has.
She failed to teach Sunset the value of friendship, resulting in her being a anti-social recluse, who only cared about her studies and considered personal relationships a waste of time and apparently did not realize the extent of Sunsets ambitions or the consequences of trying to just surpress them, until it exploded in her face.
So yeah, given all that, it don't think, that Celestia knows other ponys, quite as well as she might think she does.
That cuttaway to the onnomatopia of sunset barfing was perfect
7990039
And yet when we write fanfiction we try to be more logical than cartoon logic, where everyone holds the idiot ball except the Hero of the Episode.
7992322 Well, some of us do. But we aren't contractually tied down to it. We can write silly stories if we want to.
Also I'm starting to think, that you take this story more seriously, than the story itself does.
7994474
You'd be surprised.
Shit be deep, yo. I'm not writing this lightly.
7994513 Well, you certainly got me hooked
7994474
See this is where you are not quite right. The only truly clever thing the author has done is to fool a whole lot of you into thinking a number of things are what they are. The reality of it is, the author is trying too hard and falling short, and not about any of the things that probably came to mind when one reads this, which is why this story isn't nearly as good as you all think it is. There are huge weaknesses in the background plays, the underlying scope, and the overall premise is very thin. It rings very hollow, but that is hidden for a lot of you because of... distractions.
7994753 Could you elaborate on those weaknesses?
7994799 That's a tall order. Do you, objectively and without bias, actually want to read these or do you just want a reason to tear at a dissenter?
If I say, for example, the author is in love with fragments or that the author can't tell the difference between slap-stick, parody, and dark humor... would you listen or just throw darts at someone who doesn't like what you like?
7994827
Well, at least the author wants to know what you mean with this, let me tell you that. So far I'm afraid I fail to see your point.
Tone down the condescension a bit, though -- while I'd love to hear your criticism, insulting those who like the story is crossing a line. If you have something to say, tell it to the author or voice the flaws of the story, but don't pick on my readers.
7994827 I honestly want to know and i'm not gonna throw flaming monkey demon poo at you, for what you say.
7994873 Then I shall have to beg patience from you, as I said it is a tall order and I shall need to re-read the chapters and take down actual notes. I shall get back to you.
7994895 Of course, take all the time you need. Gut Ding will Weile haben, as we say in germany
7994895
Tell you what, mate; The problem is you've spent three problems being critical without making an actual point of criticism.
Here, lemme actually address you:
You might want to read that out loud back to yourself, mate.
You're directly insulting the other readers, as opposed to pointing out flaws in the story. You're not saying what the issue in the story is, but that the issue is that other people like it. Not only is this incredibly arrogant, but it's hostile and useless information to the author.
I can assure you I've found the opposite is quite true: There is an immense amount of symbolism and core motifs tied together by what the distractions represent, and the levity of them is used to undermine that seriousness so that, when the severity of it comes to light, it's a more sudden and significant emotional impact. It's genuinely incredibly interesting. It's important to remember that a joke isn't always just a joke.
I'd say citation needed. Because right now you haven't actually said anything, merely insinuated there's a point to be made. It'd help to be less hostile towards fellow commenters, they'd be far more likely to treat you with a respectful tone. This could have been a much kinder message.
Did you cut out the second 'have' after the 'to' just to make your point about repetition?
subtly
Repetition.
honesty
If I may play devil's advocate to the unpopular opinion, Celestia isn't entirely wrong. For one, her logic is internally consistent within the story, if not necessarily being in line with canon (it's an Aragon story, after all). Two, she isn't exactly refusing to forgive the purest essence of fandom darling Sunset Shimmer; She's refusing to forgive one of the most morally reprehensible and unsympathetic versions of Sunset Shimmer I've ever read, which I'm almost certain is a deliberate choice. Three, the story doesn't exactly give a single speck of evidence that she's lying. The supposedly widespread phenomenon of filial resentment blossoming into megalomaniacal tendencies isn't something that's been touched on in the show, and the story doesn't go into enough detail to prove whether Celestia is just fabricating a statistic to support her bias.
On a personal level, I do find her decision rather cold and morally inadvisable, but the same could be said of most every decision made by an Aragon character, and at least it's closer to a traditional good-guy action than literally anything Sunset has proposed in this story.
Also, you finally managed to make me laugh at the whole pillow gag. Good job.
7996284 I guess I just don't really care. I was hoping for a nice fiery argument. After beating a man to an inch of his life after he assaulted my wife, then watching her tear his two friends new places to sh*t from, I'm just not in the feeling the need to argue on the internet. Just so you know, I'm a gun advocate, but the saying 'an armed society, is a polite society', tends to be wrong. One obviously armed individual plus his two obviously armed friends used the fact that they had guns to try and intimidate me and harass her.
Anyways, it's a lot of work to defend a position that is mostly wrong to begin with, so... whatever I was going for here, I concede the points.
I'd complain about Celestia being out of character, but... Aragon story. Comes with the territory I guess. It's just that usually, playing against character in this way is done for comedy, whereas that was, by and large, a pretty dramatic scene. It's interesting, don't get me wrong. It's just... weird to see, I guess.
wait, was the whole Tiara thing at the beginning to imply Tiara's rise into evil?
8000732
I'd have to disagree on a few points. At first, she argues that she won't forgive Sunset because she it wasn't Sunset's fault that she turned evil, but then back peddles towards the end and says Sunset did it of her own volition. Then there's also the issue of Luna and potentially herself (she pulled the same distraction thing Sunset does all the time when talking about filial resentment), so she does have a strong bias against Sunset. The real clincher, though, was the end of the conversation and her short bit with Luna. She's certain that Sunset is trying to turn Twilight into the same thing as her and that she will hurt her, but Celestia is doing the exact same thing. It doesn't help that throughout the entire conversation, it's implied that Celestia was basically Sunset's mother figure, but didn't treat her the same way she does Twilight.
Lastly, and most importantly, this Sunset is broken. She's been thoroughly traumatized, partially due to Celestia and partially through a large series of screwed up events, and Celestia is not only going out of her way to keep the one person who can help her, she's contradicting herself the entire time. Celestia here seems to fear losing her hold on Twilight more than anything else and is using whatever she can come up with on the spot to force the two apart. Throughout the entire conversation, it's made Celestia believes she's responsible for Sunset's condition, but at the same time is trying to deny her the chance to improve.
8079972
Oh, that one's easy. I've literally neve written a crackfic in the last three years, nor do I plan to do so.
Hi. I came across this story today. It baffles me how it hasn't got more attention (not to mention the middling upvote/downvote ratio), because it's both funny and compelling, not to mention being written by an author with an obvious talent for comedy.
I suspect (partly from the comments) that it got downvoted by people upset that the characters are not exact clones of the ones we're used to from the show, but frankly I can see enough in them in these characterizations that I don't feel it. It boggles my mind that we casually accept this sort of thing in a youtube video but get really harsh on fanfiction authors.
Anyway I just wanted to say I like this story and, even though my favorites folder is not visible to the public, I'm following with interest. I can't help but feel a smidge of Douglas Adams or Terry Pratchett in the author's writing - I'm wondering if by any chance he/she is a fan of either.
... Huh. That, actually kinda makes sense. I think.
I really hope this is able to update soon! You're a great writer and I feel like this story has a lot of potential. I don't want to pressure you or anything though, I love all the stories you've made recently a lot too.
8462175
Chippin' at it, I swear. Story's not dead, it's just really hard to write, and I simply can't work on it when I'm busy with IRL stuff -- it's too demanding (Silly 4k oneshots can be written in three hours while I wait for the bus and so on -- this story sadly doesn't work like that). Still, the next chapter is roughly ~25% done, and I assume that once I manage to finally sit down and get to writing I'll wrap it up soon enough.
Thanks for the encouragement! And sorry for the wait. I assume it might be frustrating. Shit like this is why I always try to finish the story before posting anything. The one time I make an exception...
8462179
You've seemed pretty stressed for a while from your blogs, and even if Life disagrees with me I think you deserve a nice break.
I can imagine this story being super hard to write on limited time, there's a ton going on here. I hope you get less busy soon, and not just so you can update haha
Ich habe die
That diamond Tiara scene was gold