Ruler of Everything

by Sixes_And_Sevens

The Long Game

Blueblood’s jaw ached from the agony of keeping a beatific, close-lipped smile on his face for two hours. Finally, though, it was time to call a recess. “I’m terribly sorry,” he said smoothly to the current petitioner. “I believe our time here is done for now.”

The mare looked at him, startled. At least, Blueblood assumed she was startled. It was so hard to tell under her weird skull mask. She was some out-of-town dignitary claiming to be of some backwater house called ‘Paradox’, making a lot of noise about renting out the castle grounds for an event on February 29th. “But your highness, my petition --”

“Yes, granted, whatever,” Blueblood said impatiently. “Raven, see to it that the paperwork is drawn up.”

She glanced at him sidelong. “There is no February 29th this year,” she muttered.

“So much the better,” Blueblood replied quietly. “I shudder to think what she’s planning to do here…”

He turned to face the assembled. “Court will take a recess and resume in one hour.”

“Wait!”

Blueblood was already halfway to the door. “One hour,” he repeated. “No more, no less, and no disturbances.”

He slammed the door shut, closed his eyes, and slumped against the wall.

There was a flash of bright bluish light. “I don’t take no for an answer,” the voice from the courtroom said.

Blueblood didn’t even open his eyes. “Learn,” he said. “Your loan request can wait another hour.”

“This is a matter of national security,” the voice stressed.

Blueblood snorted. “You and every other jumped-up imbecile on the floor. Go away before I work up the energy to summon the guards.”

“I’m from the University --”

“Don’t care. Look, do you know who you’re talking to?”

“A worthless ponce of a royal pain who won his place in society by an accident of birth, and his current position of power through a tragic attack on some of my closest friends. Do you know who you’re talking to?”

“Not yet,” Blueblood said wearily. “The description narrows some of the options. You clearly aren’t a noble, or you wouldn’t spew such anti-oligarchy sentiments. Furthermore…” he paused. “Closest friends.”

His eyes popped open. Standing in the dim hallway only a couple meters to his left, a pale pink unicorn with a striped purple and teal mane glared at him. “Starlight Glimmer, I presume,” Blueblood drawled, rising to his hooves. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

She didn’t smile.

He rolled his eyes and blew a stray lock of mane out of his eye. “Fine. I suppose you’d know a thing or two about matters of national security, seeing as you are on approximately sixty percent of the government's watchlists. You have… mm, two minutes to convince me to listen. It would be five, but I’m running exceedingly low on patience at the moment.”

Starlight nodded sharply. “There’s something wrong in Ponyville.”

Blueblood scoffed. “Well, clearly.”

“Let me rephrase that. I think I know something about what’s wrong in Ponyville.”

Blueblood tilted his head.

“It’s all related to time, you see? I’m sure you know that I’m… not inexperienced with the subject.”

“Did I mention that of the lists you’re on, twenty percent of them only exist because of you?”

She glared at him. He shrugged. “I’ve been holding back all my sharp remarks for the last two hours. This is what you get for talking to me while I’m on break.”

“Ponyville’s time stream is seven kinds of screwed up right now, and before you say anything, none of them are directly related to anything I did.”

“Directly,” Blueblood repeated, his eyes lidded.

“Yeah, well, I -- shut up. The point is, all day, there have been weird temporal pockets popping up in Ponyville’s general vicinity. I didn’t think much about it at the time because, well, it’s Ponyville.”

“A valid conclusion,” Blueblood concurred, nodding.

“It was only once I heard about what happened this evening that I wondered if it might be a little more than that.”

Blueblood nodded. “Yes. The temporal nature of the attack is not exactly surprising, given the circumstances. Do you have any further information?”

Starlight looked a little thrown off for a moment. Clearly she hadn’t expected to be so readily accepted. “Yeah. You probably wouldn’t understand much about the temporal imaging, but…”

“Please. If there’s one thing I can do, it’s read a map.”

“You’re familiar with temporal imaging?”

Blueblood gave a thin smile. “Let’s just say that I had a good teacher. One who was also caught up in the attack in Ponyville.”

Starlight nodded. “Fine. I’ll give you my information, but on one condition.”

“Isn’t saving your friends enough?”

“It’s a start. But I want revenge, too. Let me help the investigations. I’m the most experienced chronomancer in Canterlot.”

“Don’t kid yourself,” Blueblood said shortly. “You shot yourself into time and space with no idea what you were doing and nearly ended the world.”

“Experience with what not to do is still experience.”

Blueblood sighed. “Fine. Your reputation suggests that you’re a far better ally than an opponent. Go get your papers. We leave for Ponyville in twenty minutes.”

“We?” Starlight asked.

“You said you wanted revenge? So do I. Raven can play regent for awhile while we work.”

“You just want to get away from the nobles, don’t you?”

“Well… it’s certainly not a deterrent.”

Starlight let out a light snort of amusement. “Huh. Maybe you aren’t as bad as ponies make you out to be.”

“I’ll have you know that’s slander. Nineteen minutes, now. Go! Run!”

Starlight flashed out of existence, teleporting away to Celestia-knew-where. Blueblood considered the spot where she’d been for a few seconds. Then he turned and trotted purposefully down the hall. He’d have to inform GUIDE immediately.

---

As soon as the Valeyard had departed, the sepulcher had fallen into pandemonium. Spike wouldn’t let go of Rarity, and both were swarmed by panicking friends. A few had broken off and were trying to milk more information from the Doctor, on the Time War, on who this Fey Truscott-Sade was, on his request that Celestia just murder him -- all lines of questioning that met with no success.

Celestia herself had her eye elsewhere. Her sister was standing face to face with the mechanical interface, silently scrutinizing it. Celestia stepped closer. Luna’s face was blank, and save for her eyes, completely motionless.

Celestia walked over to stand at Luna’s side. “Hello, sister,” she said softly. “A bit for your thoughts?”

Luna inhaled long and slow through her nose, then held it for several seconds before exhaling. “I have many of them,” she said. “I would not wish to burden you.”

Celestia said nothing, merely standing at her sister’s side, studying the mechanical alicorn.

After several moments, Luna sighed. “Well, now I’m thinking about how we really ought to visit a therapist one of these days.”

“Only the two of us?”

“Well, particularly the two of us,” Luna said. “But yes, I would imagine that everyone in this room could probably do with one. Perhaps if everypony else does it, we might be able to convince the Doctor to seek treatment as well.”

Celestia nodded. “It’s not really an avenue I’ve considered before, but you do have a point. Did anything in particular bring you to this conclusion, or…”

Luna’s lip curled. “This… thing.” She waved a hoof at the interface. “Its existence offends me. It is an avatar of the Nightmare, it heralds its imminent return.”

Celestia nodded. “Is it hate you feel? Fear?”

“Both, and wrath besides,” Luna said shortly. “And that frightens me even more than the Nightmare itself.”

Celestia blinked. “Well, I’d hardly expect you to simply forgive it, after all it did to you. Those feelings are --”

“Perfectly natural, yes, I am aware.” Luna tossed her mane, irritated. “The trouble is, they also happen to be the Nightmare’s bread and butter.”

Celestia’s eyes widened in comprehension. “Ah…” she murmured, nodding.

Luna glared at the interface. “We were fools to think it could have been eradicated by the Elements alone. We were fools to let our guard down! Once it infects a planet, in can feast on the negativity it has sown for untold generations. It’s an infinite loop. Anger, hatred, and fear give birth to themselves.”

“What must we do, then?” Celestia said softly. “If we let go of our anger toward it, toward what it has done to us, it will destroy us all as surely as if we simply let it feed. We may be trapped in a stalemate, sister, but a stalemate is far better than losing the game.”

“We cannot remain this way forever,” Luna warned. “We will weaken. It will not.”

“True enough,” Celestia admitted. “But think on this, Luna. Think of all the wonder and beauty in the world today that we couldn’t even have conceived of at the height of Sombra’s reign. If we had given up then, none of the modern marvels would ever have come to pass. That is why we have to fight on. Even if we fall one day, we’ll have preserved this world for generations more.”

“I never said that we should give up,” Luna muttered, glancing away.

“Then we agree.”

“Yeees,” Luna said, stretching the word out reluctantly. “In principle. In practice…”

She glanced around the tomb. “In practice, I fear that ‘one day’ may be today.”

Celestia’s jaw slackened for a moment. “I… should confer with Twilight. See how she’s doing.” She skirted away. Luna didn’t watch her go. Her eyes were back on the Interface.

---

Silence had fallen in the tunnels. Almost an hour had passed since the six had emerged from the dead-end tunnel. The collective anxiety had faded into a despairing malaise.

Dinky had taken over lighting duty from Sweetie Belle and sat slumped over the mechanical corpus like a desk lamp crossed with a vulture. Sweetie herself had retired to a darkened corner and was quietly humming to herself. Every now and then her horn would light and the clear sound of plucked strings would ring through the corridor. But then Sweetie would realize that other ponies were around to hear her, and fall silent once more.

Rumble lay on his back, wings splayed, in the middle of the floor. He kept his eyes firmly shut. Only the rhythm of his breathing, still too fast and nervous to be restful, showed that he hadn’t fallen asleep.

Scootaloo lay next to him in a similar position. The only difference was, her eyes were wide open, staring blindly at the ceiling. Button had pulled a hoof-held device out of his bag and was intensely focused on the game. His face was lit up in shifting shades of blue and green.

Only Apple Bloom remained productive. She worked on the fallen robot like a mare possessed. Her eyes glowed vermilion in the reflected light of Dinky’s horn, shifting through red, orange, and gold like the fires of a forge. She seemed to know almost instinctively where each part of the machine connected. It made sense, of course -- not only was she marked for her ability to repair practically anything, she had spent years studying every kind of craft she could in the limits of Ponyville. She had learned tinkering and mechanics from the Doctor, alchemy and cooking from Zecora, welding from Trixie and Sunset, thaumic engineering from Twilight, and carpentry, whittling, and woodworking…

She stumbled for a moment in her work, nearly splitting a piece of hose in half. She swore softly, reached for the electrical tape. Well, of course, everything she had learned about working with wood she had learned from her family. Big Macintosh had been responsible for most of the lessons, but Applejack had done her fair share, as well. Even Granny Smith had taught her a thing or two about carving, patiently showing her the right way to hold a chisel.

She scowled, ripping off the roll of electrical tape perhaps a little harder than was called for. She couldn’t let herself get distracted. Not from the robot, and not from her goals. She needed to get away from her family, from Sweet Apple Acres, from Ponyville altogether. Then maybe she could start making a name for herself.

She set the tape down, picking up the screwdriver once more, diving back into her work to drown out the distractions. All the same, she couldn’t shake the nagging little thought that clung to the back of her brain. No matter how far she traveled, no matter how well-known she became, she could never run away from herself.

---

Time had passed. Although many of the sepulcher's inhabitants continued to hover nervously around Rarity -- and, to a lesser extent, around the Doctor -- most had broken off into their own little clusters. Twilight rubbed her dry, tired eyes as she rested against the wall. She felt so tired. How much of that was down to the drain of her magic and how much was down to… more or less everything else, she couldn’t say.

Faintly, she registered a presence approaching her, sitting down next to her. Ordinarily, she could have sensed their approach, felt the bond they shared growing stronger, more present. With her magic at its lowest ebb, however, what might have been a brilliant star was reduced to the force of a damp squib. She couldn’t even tell who it was without looking up. You really never know what you have until it’s gone, she reflected.

At last, she glanced up. “Hello, Mac,” she said.

Mac nodded. “‘Lo,” she mumbled. She paused. “Er… mind if Ah ask a dumb question?”

The ghost of a smile crossed Twilight’s face. “I’ve never believed there was such a thing,” she said.

Mac frowned. “An’, uh, y’all’ve been friends with Miz Dash fer how long, now?”

Twilight chuckled and elbowed Mac in the side. “Don’t be rude.”

“A’ight, a’ight. That weren’t th’ question. Ah just wanted t’ know -- how’re y’all holdin’ up?”

The good cheer went out of Twilight like air out of a balloon. “Honestly? I don’t think I am,” she said.

Mac hummed, gesturing for Twilight to continue.

“I mean, it’s not just the power drain -- although, don’t get me wrong, that’s definitely screwing me up -- I just feel so, so --” she broke off, pressing her hooves to her head.

“Helpless?” Mac suggested. “Scared? Angry?”

Twilight took in a deep breath. “Alone,” she said softly. “I feel alone.”

Mac blinked. That had been the last thing she’d expected to hear. “But, Miz Sparkle --”

“Please, Mac. Just -- just call me Twilight, won’t you?”

She nodded. “O’ course,” she said, a touch gruffly. “Twilight. Ain’t all yer friends here? Yer teacher, yer brothers -- all just as scared as you. What’s makin’ you feel lonesome in all this?”

Twilight looked away. “Well. Like I said, a lot of it’s the magic drain. I mean, I’m sure you know what that’s like, sort of. You remember Tirek, after all.”

“Don’t reckon Ah could ever forget.”

“It’s like that. But when you’re an alicorn… the magic runs deeper. Stronger. It’s bound to me in a way that it wasn’t as a unicorn. Without it… I feel like I’m coming apart, not just emotionally, or spiritually, but physically.”

Mac’s frown deepened with every word Twilight spoke. A dam, it seemed, had burst. “And the things he said -- the Valeyard, I mean -- you heard him.”

Mac stayed as still and silent as a statue. Twilight shut his eyes. “All those words… they’re the thoughts that I have when I went to bed at ten and I’m still awake at three in the morning. The fear that I really do only make things worse. That ponies only tolerate me, or treat me differently just because I’m a princess, not because they really like me. That, in the end, I’ll still be alone as I was before I came to Ponyville, because I’ve driven even my closest friends away.”

She lapsed into silence. For a long moment, neither of them said a word. Then, silently, Mac took Twilight’s hoof in hers. “Twilight,” she said. “Ah can tell you this. Ah am yer -- yer friend. An’ yeah, sometimes you can be a little too hot on th’ magic. Ya might spend a li’l much time on your own, maybe. But Ah like you, not in spite of those things, but because of ‘em. You’re powerful, you’re smart, you’re talented. More than that, you’re radiant. Sometimes, see, Ah look at you, an’ Ah wonder, does she know how she shines? Does she know that th’ stars at night pale against her brilliance? That th’ Sun hides behind the clouds for rev’rence of her?”

Twilight was staring at Mac now, her eyes wide and wet with tears. “Mac…” she said cautiously, not daring to hope. “What are you saying?”

“I, er, uh…” Mac’s voice caught in her throat. What was she saying? The Sun hides behind the clouds? How corny could you get? “Ah think yer real neat!” she blurted.

Twilight blinked.

“Eeyup,” Mac said, glancing away. “Ah think y’all are th’ cat’s pajamas, an’ no two ways ‘bout it. An’ Twilight -- fer what it’s worth?”

“Yes?” Twilight asked.

Mac took a moment to think. Then she turned around and took Twilight's hooves in hers, gazing into the alicorn's eyes. “Ah am your friend. An’ Ah promise, Ah will never give up on you, an’ Ah promise everypony else in this room would say the same.”

Twilight smiled slightly, not quite making eye contact with Mac. But she squeezed Mac’s hoof a little tighter, pressed a little closer to the farmer’s chest.

For a moment Mac’s breathing grew shallow. Was she taking advantage of Twilight? Leading her on, now that the alicorn was at her lowest ebb?

No. She couldn’t think like that. Twilight needed a shoulder to lean on. She needed a friend. Even if the two of them could never be anything more than that, Mac would be content to serve such a role. She leaned into Twilight a little more, and both of them relaxed, just a little. The tension shrunk away, and they were content to be next to one another. Twilight’s reserves of magic fizzed and filled up just a little bit more.

And then the moment was completely ruined when the TARDIS materialized in the middle of the foyer.

---

Apple Bloom inspected her work for the third time before straightening up. “There. That oughta do it.”

The others all looked around, surprised at the sudden noise in the darkness. “You finished?” Button asked, his voice squeaking for a moment out of disuse.

Apple Bloom waved a hoof side to side. “Let’s jes’ say Ah’ve done mah best. Dinky? Y’wanna set it upright?”

The glow from Dinky’s horn grew brighter as she heaved the machine into the air, then slowly rotated it upright. It hadn’t seemed particularly impressive lying on the floor, but standing on its wheels, it cut a fairly imposing figure. Apple Bloom was taller than it, but only by a scant few centimeters.

There was a whirring noise, and the robot slowly rotated around its central axis. Everypony but Bloom took a few cautious steps back. Then the machine let out a happy trill and all of its domes fell in on themselves, the ones on top fitting into cavities below. It resembled a matryoshka doll, in some ways. Then, with a beep, it rose back up to its full height and let out another trill.

“Howdy,” Bloom said. “Uh, can y’all understand us?”

The robot rumbled. Bloom cocked her head. “‘Kay. Trill fer yes, rumble fer no.”

It trilled, and everypony grinned. Apple Bloom continued. “How well d’you know these caves?”

It remained silent. Dinky coughed. “Yes or no questions,” she said.

“Oh! Duh. Can y’all get us to where we need to go?”

The robot responded with a trill, but a very quiet one. “Is that a ‘probably’?” Button Mash guessed.

A louder trill.

“We’re looking for a door,” Dinky said. “It should be somewhere to the north, and not too far away. Do you know where that is?”

Another trill.

“Will you take us there?” Rumble asked. “Please.”

In lieu of a response, the machine began to putter off down the hallway, the way it had come. The Crusaders quickly fell into line behind it. “So,” Sweetie said. “What can we call you?”

The robot pondered that for a second, before trilling and rumbling in quick succession. “Trill-rumble,” Sweetie mused. “Hmm…”

“What about Trumble?” Scootaloo suggested.

“Maybe,” Sweetie said. “Not quite right, though.”

“Trumbly?” Button put in.

“Better,” Sweetie allowed. “But it’s still not quite right. Maybe… it looks very… chumbley, doesn’t it?”

“Chumbley?” Dinky repeated, her voice flat.

The robot trilled. “Aww, she likes it!” Apple Bloom said. “Alright then, you can be our new chum, Cholmondeley the Chumbley.”

Cholmondeley gave a delighted trill, and her domes fell and rose in a sort of joyful dance. Everypony laughed, even Dinky, as they all finally allowed a ray of hope to pierce the gloom for the first time since they’d lost the map.

---

The TARDIS flickered in and out of existence. The bulb on top wasn’t flashing, and even more horrifying, it was completely silent. None of that stopped the Doctor from racing to its doors and wrapping his hooves around the box, his cheek smushed awkwardly against the wood. “Hello old girl,” he said softly. “Did you miss me, hm? I missed you.”

He peeled himself off the door to glance around the assembled, grinning gleefully. “Applejack! Applejack, where’s the TARDIS key?”

Applejack chewed her lower lip. “Ah ain’t got it, Doc.”

The Doctor’s grin faded for a moment, but in a blink it was back and more manic than ever. “That’s fine! Good on you, keeping it hidden like I asked. Where is it, then?”

Applejack tilted her head. “Doctor. There’s something wrong with all this.”

“Well, obviously. We’re in the Matrix projection of my deranged future self. But the TARDIS, oh the TARDIS -- she’ll be strong enough to get us out of here! I only need to access the psychic circuits and--”

“Doctor!” Applejack raised her voice. The Doctor stopped.

“Ah don’t think Ah should give you th’ key. We shouldn’t go in there.”

The Doctor’s jaw went slack for a moment. Then his face darkened. “Applejack,” he said in a low growl. “The TARDIS is my home. I gave you that key because I trust you. I won’t be kept out because you couldn’t do a simple task correctly! Give me back my--”

He wheezed as a pair of powerful hooves grabbed him around the barrel. Applejack nodded, unfazed. “Thank ya kindly, Luna.” Her eyes narrowed as she regarded the Doctor.

“Y’know, Doc. Ah respect th’ Tartarus outta you. Y’all’ve seen incredible things, saved worlds, done so much. You’ve been hurt, too, so many times, an’ you still keep goin’. Ah respect you, an’ Ah like you, an’ today all yer worst nightmares seem t’ be comin’ true at once. Ah want you to understand that those are th’ only reasons Ah’m choosin’ not t’ punch y’all right now.”

“Much appreciated,” the Doctor gasped.

Applejack nodded. “See, yer smart, Doc. But you can also be real stupid. You think th’ TARDIS is just gonna arrive here without a driver? Th’ TARDIS that we know is under th’ control of th’ Nightmare?”

The Doctor slumped in Luna’s hooves, gazing down at the floor. “You’re right. ‘M sorry, Applejack.”

Applejack reached out and tilted his face up to look him in the eye. She studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “Yer forgiven. This time. Y’all can set ‘im down, now, Luna. Reckon we got bigger fish t’ fry.”

She glared at the TARDIS. “Come out an’ show yerself, ya yella-bellied salamander!”

There was a long, grudging pause. Then, the Valeyard stepped out from behind the TARDIS, which seriously surprised everypony who had been looking at that side of the TARDIS. He was scowling more than usual. “Why,” he grumbled, drawing a snub-nosed laser pistol, “must everyone always take the hard way?”

Comments

[FanOfMostEverything]

She was some out-of-town dignitary claiming to be of some backwater house called ‘Paradox’, making a lot of noise about renting out the castle grounds for an event on February 29th.

Well now.

Oh, right, Starlight exists. I honestly forgot she wasn't involved in the intervention. And she's not one to take this sort of thing lying down.

“Did I mention that of the lists you’re on, twenty percent of them only exist because of you?”

I'm not sure if that says more about Starlight, given how many, or Equestria's history with mad mages, given how few.

I… should confer with Twilight. See how she’s doing.

Hug your sister, Tia. It won't help much, but it'd be something.

No matter how far she traveled, no matter how well-known she became, she could never run away from herself.

And elsewhere in the Matrix, the Doctor sneezed.

And then the moment was completely ruined when the TARDIS materialized in the middle of the foyer.

Also interesting to note that Twilight seems to gain more benefit from cuddles than an ætherial IV drip.

Still, things do seem to be turning a corner... by and large. There are beams of hope in the despair, but oh, that despair is getting that much darker now that there's light to emphasize the shadows. Looking forward to more.

[Sixes_And_Sevens]

10377792

She was some out-of-town dignitary claiming to be of some backwater house called ‘Paradox’, making a lot of noise about renting out the castle grounds for an event on February 29th.

Sometimes writing is just like
64.media.tumblr.com/9429be09500eced608dc764655be5a4e/c06f61141fa43041-45/s640x960/f777e9405f7b5514bcc64d4dfc7334d722668e8b.png

I'm not sure if that says more about Starlight, given how many, or Equestria's history with mad mages, given how few.

Of course, the Canterlot Magical Academy has more than its fair share of megalomaniacal mages and wannabe world dominators -- there's even a whole department, currently working towards the advancements of studies in evil laughter. However, most of them tend to wind up quite thoroughly hoist by their own petard, wearyingly repetitive, or both. It's gotten to the point where the University has specialized forms for creatures being destroyed by their own army (with sub-forms for undead, summoned, mind-controlled, constructed, or 'other' with regards to said army's composition), as well as ones for when would-be summoners of dark and demonic powers find that their ritual has flopped. Surprisingly, necromancy is not as popular as one might expect, as the knowledge of how to correctly conduct any but the most basic necromantic rites were lost near the start of the Age of Abeyance, roughly a thousand years ago.

Starlight is that most dangerous combination to find in a powerful mage -- determined, intelligent, and very, very creative. Technically, she has never broken the law since her reformation. However, that's only because the law has some difficulty in keeping up with her.

OH, COME ON!

The oven has been preheated to 175F and the timer is broken, so let's all settle in for a slo-o-o-o-o-ow burn.

Also interesting to note that Twilight seems to gain more benefit from cuddles than an ætherial IV drip.

Generic magic is fine and good for her sustenance, but Friendship lies at the core of her being. Celestia might take similar comfort in being out in the sunshine, and Discord... well, it's probably best not to speculate.

[Shilic]

The Long Game, in which the Doctor battles Simon Pegg and learns that maybe not every person can be trusted not to exploit time travel for fun and profit. But hey, we got Prisoners of Time out of it, so it's a good episode in my book.

She was some out-of-town dignitary claiming to be of some backwater house called ‘Paradox’, making a lot of noise about renting out the castle grounds for an event on February 29th.

Oh no. No no no. Nonononononono. Away with you, foul specters of time! Haunt us not with your overly confusing time shenanigans and your magic shadows and your spin-off sub-franchise that's still going even though the context for it's existence has been all but scrubbed from canon! (Which, to be fair, isn't even out of character for them)

The TARDIS materializing silently is a crime against the universe. Actually, that's the real reason River Song was thrown in Stormcage.

[jimerjam]

al. “Why,” he grumbled, drawing a snub-nosed laser pistol, “must everyone always take the hard way?”

because it's fun

[Coyote de La Mancha]

Agghhh! Dammit, Twilight and Mac! Why can’t you both just--!
Ah. Saved by the TARDIS. Only not really.

And regarding the matter of the royal sisters, of course, it remains that SIBLINGS MUST HUG, DAMMIT!

“Why,” he grumbled, drawing a snub-nosed laser pistol, “must everyone always take the hard way?”

That ancient and renowned sage Wile. E. also asked that... probably with comparable results.

I love Starlight sticking her snout into the matter, and her interactions with Blue. And House Paradox? Yes, please.