What You Are
Day court.
The events of the past week made the trifling concerns of Princess Celestia’s open court initiative seem petty by comparison. All the same, the constant flow of insufferable landed gentry took place amidst a new backdrop - that of a frazzled Equestria, in a state of reactive shock and disrepair. Just beyond the throne room windows, out in the world of her daylight, Celestia could see the faces of beleaguered citizens. She heard the sounds of construction teams at their toil, and smelled the scents of sandalwood incense set in strategic alcoves throughout town - a vain attempt by some local support group to mollify the citizenry and stay their fears.
In the past week, Equestria had come closer than ever to total annihilation. Celestia had thought it proper to resume the business of court as quickly as possible, to assure the populace that their seat of government was still solid, stable, and capable of protecting them. It was a gesture for the benefit of the common pony. Yet it came upon the banners of prancing peacocks, who were back to muttering about work conditions, taxes, favors, and compensation for their contractors who toiled in the streets.
Celestia felt the everpresent crick in her neck. These days, it brought with it a companion in the form of a cloying pain behind her eyes whenever she tried to focus on anything. The only way to keep her magic from falling into the hands of the tyrant Tirek had been to give it all away, but subsequently regaining it at speed had been a trying physical experience that she had yet to pass beyond. She rubbed her temples with a subtle spin of her magic, and silently reminded herself not to conjure up demons in her head. The fact that the nobles were present at all suggested they supported her decision - supported the community. She must be logical.
Beneath the dais, an aged mare in a powdery wig and large pearls completed her proposal to the court. Celestia waved her foreleg, trying to make the gesture look attentive.
“Yes, yes, very well,” The princess bantered. “If your crews can complete the work on the east quarter by Friday, Madame Sawdust, you may retain the contract to the market district, provided work in that sector proceeds according to the schedule you originally provided.”
“Certainly Your Highness,” The mare replied, the snootiness in her nasally voice offset only by the dry, respectful tone she used to address her ruler. “My teams will have the city back to itself before the month is out. It will be as though none of this ever happened.”
Celestia favored the stuffy nag with a smile and sent her on her way. The overall damage to Canterlot in the wake of Tirek’s return had been rather minimal. The surrounding settlements were in greater need of physical attention - emotional attention was the primary order of business in Canterlot. Yet, all the higher-end contracting businesses sought to crowd about their sovereign and vie for the right to prove they could care for the capital city better than their constituents.
They hung on her. Revolved around their crown princess. Trusted all her decisions.
Celestia bit back a sneer, mutating it by force into a harmless sigh. She glanced at the position of the sun and nodded to the guard who was already awaiting her order.
“Day court is concluded for the afternoon. Disperse the guard to their standard duties.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” The guard saluted staunchly and went about the task. Celestia turned to the diminutive mare with the thick glasses who sometimes sat in on court to perform as a stenographer.
“Miss Clacker,” Celestia asked rather than commanding, for her request was not among the stenographer’s duties, “Would you retrieve my planner from the pouch beside you and kindly check my schedule for the rest of the day?”
The worker seemed surprised to even be asked. With an eager reply, she retrieved the document and checked it. “...your schedule seems to be clear tonight, Your Highness.”
Celestia managed to keep her relief in check. She showed her appreciation for the clerk’s assistance, “You may go. Thank you for your assistance today. I shall not hesitate to call upon you again when your services are required.”
The young earth mare seemed to glow with the orange hue of the late afternoon sun. She gathered her papers and quills, hopped off the dais, bowed properly, and was on her way.
Alone finally in the throne room, Celestia allowed a new sigh to deepen into audible range. She might have levitated the planner to her side under her own power, but the jarring pain was still with her, and thus she preferred to keep use of her magic to a temporary minimum.
Rising, Celestia departed the chamber for her private apartments, the sound of her metallic slippers echoing upon the stone.
* * * * *
Books. Tea. Sleep.
Once upon a time, not too long ago, any of these pursuits would have provided the crown princess with a release of tension and a reset for her thoughts. One by one, like the crumbling spires of a civilization beyond even her ancient memories, they had fallen. Books had become tedious, and focusing on small print only inflamed the throbbing in her brain. Her favorite teas had all become nothing but scented hot water to her senses, and sleep eluded her every night until the candle was burnt at both ends.
In her ample bath chamber, Princess Celestia examined herself in the mirror. The gray bags under her eyes were unbecoming. Magic camouflaged them, but since the incident with Tirek even that task had become too laborious. The flow of her mane was shallow, and the furrow in her brow had deepened along with the curl in her lip. Had any of her subjects noticed her fatigue, none had been so bold, nor so kind, as to point it out.
Celestia placed her hooves on either side of the gleaming porcelain sink and bent over it. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the scent of strawberry bubble bath that awaited her in the warm tub nearby. She thought to talk to herself, but the words were taken from her by a husky male voice that perked her ears and drew from her lungs a sharp gasp.
“Bit for your thoughts? I got a million of them you know.”
Celestia’s eyes focused upon a point in the mirror over her shoulder. Her already wilting expression drowned itself in black ichor at the reflected image of Discord, sitting in her private bathtub amongst a massive pile of golden bits - one for each bubble that had previously been there.
Discord pinched a single bit between his talons and drew it to his snout, taking a deep whiff of it. “Strawberries, marvelous!” He exclaimed, tossing the bit aside, “Strawberry-flavored money could be your best command decision in ten thousand years, mon princesse! Imagine the possibilities!” In an instant, there were two tubs full of money in the room. Side-by-side, Discord proceeded to conduct a conversation with a copy of himself atop the other pile of riches-
“You there, good sir!”
“Moi?” The second Discord placed a claw on his chest in surprise.
“Yes, you, my good fellow!” The first Discord pointed at Celestia, “How much is that pony in the window?”
Discord #2’s face and voice were suddenly Twilight’s, “The one with the waggly tail?”
“Yes, yes! How much is that pony in the window? Oh I do hope that pony’s for sale!”
Discord #2’s visage changed to that of Rarity, who sang in verse, “I simply must take a trip to Manehattan, and leave my strawberries alone--”
“--If you have a pony, they won’t be lonesome,” Discord #1 sang, “And your berries will have a good home!”
Celestia’s expression darkened in the mirror. Discord huffed, rolled his eyes, banished his duplicate, and returned the coins to the state of bubbles. He then made a dramatic show out of lounging in the tub.
“Fine. But flavored currency would have changed the very face of the Equestrian economy, mark my words. Though I must say I’m rather perplexed,” He inhaled again, “strawberry-scented bubble bath? How old are we again? You do realize the kind of pampering I prefer is not the kind that goes on your bottom with a sprinkle of cornstarch, yes?”
Celestia spun on her heels and marched from the bath with a lockstep her guards would have been proud of. She emerged in her personal bedchamber. The room was beyond her recognition - every inch of it had been remodeled with garish pink feathers, lace, and ribbons until the decor more closely resembled the abode of a bubblegum filly doted on too much by her wealthy parents.
Upon Celestia’s canopied bed (which was now overrun by a baby boom of stuffed animals) sat Discord. He was dressed in a frilly pink nightie with a red ribbon at the chest, a bleached blonde wig, and had spread before him a collection of juvenile cosmetic products.
“Ohh, come now!” He twinkled, “Why the long face? Your mane is moving at the pace of a funeral dirge, and doesn’t suit you at all.” He held out his claw, spreading his talons as a floating brush began to paint his nails. “What you need is a sleepover! We can paint each other’s nails, beat one another until our pillows start vomiting goose feathers, and tell embarrassing stories about Twilight Sparkle! All those things you princesses do when you think nopony is looking. Ah!” The nail brush vanished, and suddenly Discord was right by Celestia’s side, leaning up against her with a sly grin. “Or we could talk about stallions! Have you seen that big red mustang at the Apple farm lately? Dumb as a post with half as much charm, but those shoulders! Mm-hm-hm! Fine stock he comes from!” Discord put a talon to his chin, “Then again, perhaps not. If his family is any indication of what to expect, I might sooner shack up with Shining Armor--”
“Discord.”
Discord began counting on the fingers of his lone paw, “He’s strapping, prince of his own kingdom, has Fabio hair, stars on his butt that won’t quit--”
“Discord...”
“Rich and influential, strapping, married to a princess...well that could be an issue but I’m sure she won’t mind--”
”Discord...”
“Did I mention strapping?”
“DISCORD!”
“Alright alright,” Discord floated back into the center of the room and dismissed his attire, “You can have him first. Twilight likes me better anyway, but you just wait and see if I send you a card next Hearth’s Warming if you’re going to throw your weight around like that!”
Celestia could feel the pressure building in a vein that threatened to burst from her forehead. “ALL of it, Discord.”
“Yeesh,” Discord muttered. He snapped his fingers, and the room was instantly back to the familiar, cozy shades of royal blue and soft white that Celestia remembered. “Pinkie Pie is so much more fun than you. Even your sister is more fun than you, and she’s still working out how not to boil her enemies in oil like we used to back in the good old days, where the good guys all wore white hats and the bad guys all wore black ones. Such simpler times.”
Discord was suddenly wearing a white Stetson, while Celestia found herself wearing a black one. With a pulsing of her magic that brought about a crescendo to the throb in her head, Celestia clipped the brim of her hat until it tumbled end-over-end onto the floor.
Discord watched the hat fall and shrugged. “Perhaps I should have gone with my first instinct tonight. The mariachi band and the sombreros would have added such a nice guacamole flavoring to everything. It really tastes excellent over steamed--” He yanked a book from Celestia’s bookshelf and examined it, making a face, “--steamed Hoofingway?” He tossed the book over his shoulder - somehow, it landed perfectly back where it belonged. “Even your bookshelves don’t make for good punch lines.”
Celestia took three deep breaths and stepped over to the window. “I am not in the mood, Discord,” She managed evenly, “Please leave.”
“Ah, mon princesse. How can I do that?” Discord vanished, reappearing a moment later floating in the air just outside the window. Approximately three inches tall, he fluttered on glistening wings and held a wand with a star atop it in his paw. “I can’t just go away when something’s eating you-” He cleared his throat, and a writhing shark floated past Celestia from somewhere behind her and straight out the window, where it vanished. “Here, let me take care of that for you...”
Celestia turned away from the view of the capital city at dusk as abruptly as she had turned towards it. “I have told you that I am not in the mood for this, Discord. I would like to rest. Alone.”
“Oh posh, rest isn’t what you need!” Discord insisted before popping once again out of existence. With a yelp, Celestia found herself lying on her side on her own bed, propped up by three times as many satin pillows as she was used to finding there. A freestanding easel stood facing away from her on the floor. Behind it, Discord sat on a stool with his talon jammed through a painter’s palette. He had a brush in his paw, a flaxen mustache on his face, and a propeller beanie on his head.
“Ve must be turnink ze frown upside down before it is takink over zat pretty little face!” Discord announced playfully. He then began slapping the canvas hard with red paint, sending collateral splashes all over the place. “Vait for it...vaaaait for it....ah, voila!”
Discord turned the canvas to face Celestia. Upon it was an angelic image of himself, wearing a halo, bowing his head reverently before a bright sun on a clear day.
Discord paused. Waited. Got impatient. Hissed out a whisper-
“Psst, this is me being sorry for all the trouble I caused,” He whispered. “Your line is ‘Discord, you handsome draconequus, I forgive you’.”
Celestia saw nothing but the propeller beanie upon her comical tormentor’s head. She was on her hooves in a flash, and the uncharacteristic snarl upon her muzzle was enough to make even Discord cringe.
“I have told you to leave me alone!!” She cried, her foreleg batting the canvas away until the conjured object shattered against a wall and disappeared. “Is it so difficult for you to allow me to brood in peace!?”
Discord was frozen in place. His body slowly iced over until he was encased in a solid block of it - a moment later, the paint, ice, and everything else Discord had summoned returned to the ether. He frowned and floated back to a safe personal space bubble distance.
“You know,” He offered, “I’m trying to be a better me - trying to make you feel better because something is clearly bothering you. The least you can do is show me a sliver of common court--”
“GO AWAY, Discord!”
Incensed, Discord fired back without magic-
“What’s the big deal!? I screwed up, I get it! I’m sorry, I’ve learned my lesson, it’ll never happen again, huzzah and periwinkle, everypony’s hunky dory! I’m the one who has to live with what I did, so what’s this whole ‘brooding’ thing about?” He jerked a thumb at himself, “Did you ever think that wailing about being ‘disappointed in somebody’ gets awfully patronizing after awhile? I’m not your student, nor am I your responsibility to brood over, Princess!”
Celestia attempted to bore a hole straight through the draconequus with her eyes alone. When his rant ended however, and the heaving of his shoulders matched hers, she found she could no longer look him in the eye. Seeking another escape, she stamped out of the bedroom, down the hall, and into her spacious sitting room. She spoke as she went, knowing he would be close behind-
“It is not you that I am disappointed in. It is myself. And you are mistaken. It may not be so now, but at one point in time, you were my responsibility.”
Discord appeared in the passage to the sitting room just before the princess passed the threshold. He was dressed like a flight attendant, “Come again, come again, thank you come again...wait-” He fixed her with a look, “Come again?”
Celestia walked right past Discord without any acknowledgment. She stood in the center of the room amidst all the finely wrought tapestries, thick rugs, and precious treasures, staring blankly as if she had forgotten what she had come in for.
Discord was himself again - he appeared lying on his side on a posh couch, his cheek propped up with his claw. “It’s a sitting room,” He pointed out. “You’re supposed to sit in it.”
“Do you remember Screwball?” Celestia blurted out the unexpected question without moving, her head bowed and her eyes tracing the patterns of a fine Saddle-Arabian rug below.
“What? Screwball?” Discord brightened and shot up into the air like a firework, “Of course I remember screwball! Why didn’t you just say so in the first place!?”
Celestia shielded her eyes from a blinding flash of light. Her foreleg over her face, she detected a gentle breeze encircling her coat, and the clear sensation of turf under her hooves where mere carpeting had been a moment before. She opened her eyes to find that her apartments, her tower, her palace...and even her city were entirely gone.
Blinking dumbly, Celestia scanned her surroundings for some semblance of recognition. It came to her quickly in the form of the symbol for the Equestrian Games, which hung proudly above the bleachers of the huge stadium she was now standing in the middle of. The crystalline material used to compose the structure of the massive ovoid stadium made it obvious were she was, and why the spires of Canterlot were nowhere to be found.
High above the quiet brazier that housed the eternal flame twinkled a sky filled with stars - heavenly pinpoints of light that contained enough fire to light it a million times over. As if fired upon from the sky, the brazier suddenly burst to life with the fires of the Equestrian games.
Where an empty, well-manicured grass lawn had once been, Celestia found herself standing on a raised plot of dirt, wearing a brimmed hoofball cap.
“Batter up!”
Drawn by Discord’s voice, Celestia found him standing at home plate wearing a pinstripe hoofball uniform, cleats, and a cap of his own; a thick bat hefted over his shoulder.
“Screwball!” Discord announced as he swung his bat at nothing. There was a cracking noise, and a hoofball with a huge screw through it suddenly found itself on a direct trajectory for Celestia’s head. The Princess yelped and successfully ducked, but Discord wasn’t through yet.
“Spitball! Breaking ball! Curve ball! Forkball! Spoon ball! Salad tong ball!”
Celestia ducked, dodged, or magically stopped a series of line drives consisting respectively of a wet ball, a ball that had shattered into flying pieces, a ball shaped like a crescent moon, and three balls with various kitchen utensils jammed through the middle of them.
“Oh ho!” Discord belly laughed, “You’re quite good! Think you can blow three heaters by me?” He whacked his cleats with the bat and spit out a wad of chewing tobacco that had not been there a moment ago. “Swing batter batter batter swing!”
Celestia felt a warm sensation. Upon her foreleg was a hoofball mitt that was decidedly on fire. Yelping again she cast the conflagration away and fixed Discord with a baleful gaze.
For a moment, alicorn and draconequus stared silently at one another. Discord took two practice swings and then pointed the tip of his bat at center field.
“Calling my shot,” He said smugly.
“Home, Discord.”
Discord pouted like a scolded puppy, “But you said you wanted to play screwball! First you want to take a bath in a pile of money with me, then we paint our nails and talk about stallions, then I immortalize myself in oils for you, and now we’re here. Granted I can completely understand why anypony would simply die to share a bathtub with me, but what exactly is it going to take to turn that frown upside down?”
For a moment, Celestia felt her anger boil. She gathered it into a round, hot shell that she intended to lob at her tormentor, but just as quickly as it had come, the desire to lash out at him simply melted away. Celestia’s crown and slippers felt like solid stone. Her neck hurt, her head hurt, and worst of all, her conscience hurt. She bowed her head, her expression wilting into sorrow.
“...please take me home, Discord.”
Discord’s wry expression broke into uncertainty. Anger was something he could deal with. Indifference was another story. He snapped his talons, and in an instant they were themselves again, transported instantly back from the Crystal Empire to the dark silence of the Canterlot palace throne room - silent as a stone due to a scheduled evening off for Princess Luna’s night court.
Celestia wandered towards the dais simply to hear the comforting rhythm of her slippers as they clacked across the echoing stone. “You don’t remember Screwball at all, do you,” She stated, her tone far from questioning.
Discord was about to turn into an elephant and declare that he never forgot anything, but thought the better of it. Instead he shrugged with great drama, letting out a sardonic and theatrically loud sigh.
“Screwball is the name of the pony your magic created when you were first revived, in an era that had been without your influence for a thousand years,” Celestia explained.
Discord thought about it. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and scratched his chin, stretching it away from his face like chewing gum. He brightened and suddenly let go, causing his elongated chin to snap back against his cheeks.
“Ah yes!” He finally declared. “I do recall that enigmatic little accident! Delightful creature, twittering her bottom lip and flitting about like a perfectly random simpleton while I worked over your favorite student.” He pulled out a wallet and flipped it open - no fewer than thirty photographs unfolded in a long string, all of which were images of Screwball, mostly blotted out of the picture by Discord himself. He examined the pictures fondly, “How is that darling minx these days?”
Celestia did not look up. “Your little ‘accident’ is dead.”
Discord blinked. He turned his head to the princess and held a megaphone over his ear. “...say again, filly?”
“Dead,” Celestia jerked her neck, whipping her mane violently as her stony eyes fell upon Discord again. “She’s dead. And her death was my fault.”
Celestia wasn’t certain if the sudden sound of crickets had been Discord’s doing, but the quiet was so foreign in his presence that she found it earsplitting.
“I...see,” Discord uttered, his feet touching the floor for the first time Celestia could remember since he had appeared. He shrugged, his voice more even, “Well. That whole ‘death’ thing happens to everypony eventually. Except for you and me, of course.”
“She came to me,” Celestia pressed her explanation, “and asked me to help save her life. I refused. She died.”
Discord simply scratched his head. “That doesn’t sound much like you.”
Celestia turned sharply away, trying in vain to find some island in the stone sea to set her gaze upon. “Believe it.”
“...why?” Discord muttered simply.
“Because I was afraid. Afraid of you.”
Discord’s ear flicked. He remained motionless just long enough for the silence to become uncomfortable, and then broke into a rattling, uneven laugh. “Afraid? Of moi?” He flitted over to a stone pillar, hammered on it with his bare fist to the tune of jackhammer smashes, and in a puff of dust converted it into a stone likeness of himself. “Have you forgotten I was sleeping with the fishes in concrete horseshoes? What fears could you have possibly had, other than how much pigeon poo might end up on my shoulders, or if the moss was duly growing on the lee of my stone?”
Celestia, undeterred, continued-
“She asked me to free you, because the lack of your continued presence in the world left her with no means by which to replenish the life force that created her. That was her theory, at least. I asked her to stay - told her we could examine her, come up with more concrete information and perhaps even find another way to save her, but she left.” Celestia thrust her foreleg at the door and inhaled sharply. “Through that very archway, she left with a smile on her lips. She told me it was okay, and that she understood that I could not free you, because I believed you too dangerous to unleash again upon the world. I was afraid of you. Thus, I sealed her fate.”
Discord listened with uncharacteristic attentiveness as Celestia continued-
“I spent months mulling over my decision, until it occurred to me that our world is not the same place it was the first time my sister and I sealed you away. There were now other ponies who had a chance to get through to you.”
Discord cleared his throat. Without a sound he leaned against the pillar, which was now a sculpture of both himself and Fluttershy.
“I asked myself,” Celestia went on, “why I had never sought to destroy you. Whether or not I could have done so at all remains unknown, but I had centuries to research the idea, while you sat helplessly in the palace gardens. Yet, I never tried.” She let her foreleg drop and stared forlornly at the entrance, “But I know why I never sought to do that. It is because in my heart I knew that no matter how much of a nuisance you were, and how much trouble you caused, you were never truly evil. You sought power, yes, but you had limits as to what you would do to achieve it.”
Discord flicked his ears and glanced around the room uncomfortably, resting his elbow on stone-Fluttershy’s happy head. “...don’t be ridiculous. I was as evil as they came.”
“You were not.”
“I was!” Discord, taken by a sudden impulse of anger, backhanded the pillar, which returned to its original shape rather than shattering. “Don’t trivialize my momentousness!”
Celestia only shook her head patiently. “You never took a life.”
“Tirek would have taken lives if he had to!” Discord protested, “And I was in cahoots with him! It follows that I am just as evil as he!”
“You were being manipulated,” Celestia replied. “But I cannot excuse myself with such a convenient thought. Even if Tirek ultimately stole your power, he never could have obtained it in the first place had you not assisted him. It was by providence that Tirek never actually murdered anypony during his rampage, for if he had, his actions would have been on your claws just as much as his.”
Discord took an uncertain step backwards, but said nothing.
Celestia stepped to the window and gazed at her sister’s grace as it began its mission through the heavens. “When I found Screwball she had passed away by a matter of mere hours, lying peacefully in a small sliver of the world that she had managed to carve out for herself. Nopony trusted you. Thus, nopony trusted her. None of us were willing to give her a chance.”
Discord’s voice came to Celestia’s ears from somewhere in the dark depths behind her. “Screwball was an after-effect of my magic. She wasn’t a pony.”
Celestia scoffed at the justification, “Had you ever bothered to look her in the eye, as I did, you would not be saying that now.”
Before Discord’s eyes, wreathed by the glow of Celestia’s magic, floated a yellowing scrap of paper. While the draconequus read silently from it, Celestia offered one comment-
“Her flowers wilted away long ago. This is all that is left of her. That, and this,”
Discord looked up. Upon Celestia’s head, draped crookedly over her crown, was a ridiculously out of place propeller beanie.
“But none of that was the worst part,” Celestia said gravely. “The worst part is that your betrayal shows that my fears were justified. And thus, Screwball’s death was justified. It was right to purposefully do nothing while a pony, with as much spark behind her eyes as any other, wasted away and died.” Celestia could no longer stay the path of the single tear that traced its way down her cheek. “Now Discord, knowing all that, you tell me how I’m supposed to sleep peacefully at night ever again.”
Discord said nothing, even when Celestia levitated the beanie onto his head and closed his claw around the scrap of paper.
“I want to believe that it is never just to allow any creature to die. But I cannot be forgiven for my actions, so long as you do not learn from yours.” She stepped away from the window, straightened her back and marched to the rear of the room, through the portal used for royalty to enter and exit without encountering the masses in the great hall. Her bearing was not that of Princess Celestia. It was the regal stoicism of The Princess of the Sun – the avenging angel that modern ponies had never before known.
“Our fates are intertwined, Discord. My redemption depends upon yours, but so does my taint. I killed that filly, and your recent behavior serves to make what I did the only possible right choice.” The Sun scoffed, “Where will we both be tomorrow I wonder, and how will we live with ourselves when we get there.
Left alone in the chamber, Discord spun the propeller upon his head to the cadence of the crown princess’s retreating hooves. Staring down, he opened his claw. There rested the small scrap of paper that would one day crumble to dust.
“...sorry for what you are...” He recited aloud from the note, prodding it affectionately with a claw from his lion’s paw.
Discord stepped to the window where The Sun once stood. Out the window, in Luna’s endless sky, a single star twinkled with an unnatural, slightly purple hue.
“I’m sorry,” He said simply, squeezing the note in his grip. “I...didn’t know.”
Opening his claw again, Discord caused a quill to appear from nowhere. As the note turned over in front of him, floating in midair, he scrawled on the back of it, folded it into the shape of a paper airplane, and by the simple expedient of blowing on it, sent it rocketing out of sight, straight in the direction of the star.
Words that nopony would ever read were jotted down upon it-
Don’t ever be sorry for what you are. Hold your head up high, and show them how we do things, no matter where infinity takes you.
With a renewed grin on his lips, Discord vanished. In the empty throne room of Canterlot palace, a warm breeze blew. Floating upon it was an almost imperceptible giggle, belonging to a voice that had walked there years ago.
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I do have to say, I like the way you write Discord. He's also one of my favourite characters to write
7845505
Blame Q, because that's where I get my Discord from. Hence the 'mon princesse' bits, and the reference to a mariachi band
A pleasure working with you as always!
Whoops, had this marked as incomplete for some reason.
Better now
cdn.smosh.com/sites/default/files/ftpuploads/bloguploads/feels-bro-aliencs.png
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Then the story worked. Thanks for reading
gifdivision.com/uploads/4/6/0/3/46032175/037_-_fklf9.gif
Who made the picture?
7848743
I did. I make most of my own covers by putting together vector pieces.
You really have writing Discord down. For as much as you take Q as inspiration, the cannon writers do as well. Your presentation of Celestia's remorse is just as deep, in the other direction of course. Very nice use of foils.
And yes, right in the feels
7944562
I find Discord complicated to write for, but rewarding
That made me choke up, so...yea. Well done.
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Glad it had its intended effect
May a flock of chocolate angels sing you to your rest dear Screwball
.
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Dear god this is sad...
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It sounds like it did its job then. I'm glad you enjoyed it.
8070851
Jello Angels my dear.Chocolate is for rain.
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.
Its chaos. Although chocolate rain does sound delicious
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But this story comes with chocolate rain you guys! Chocolate rain!!
Excellent story. Made me tear up in anguish, while also wanting to smack the shit out of Celestia for her part in it.
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She paid for it in emotion.
Thanks for reading, glad you enjoyed it
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Aww, thanks, glad you enjoyed it!
Beautiful story. Wonderfully written. And congratulations, You made me cry. It's rare that stories manage that, so amazing job.
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I always like hearing that I managed to evoke tears. Gives me that warm feeling. So glad you enjoyed it
Every time I try to write something starring Screwball, I end up scrapping it because none of my drafts ever measure up to the raw emotions of this fic. In a lesser story, that closing paragraph would be unbearably hokey. But in this one... god damn.
Three years out and this is still the pinnacle of Screwball portrayals.
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And three more years until my negligence is up. Sorry about that. Anyway, thank you for the high praise regarding the character--there's really nothing to go on about Screwball in the actual canon, so I'm glad to see this measures up to expectations!
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Ha! You're all good. Since penning that comment, I've bucked up and indeed put out a few fics starring Screwball. One had her make friends with Spike, another outsider to his own species.
She was great fun to put to page, and reading your work was helped me get the gumption to do it.