Ruler of Everything

by Sixes_And_Sevens

Reckless Engineering

It would be a bit much to say that Holiday and Lofty were overjoyed that Scootaloo had brought home not one, but two unexpected guests. However, they were exemplary hostesses, and Holiday cleared off two extra chairs for Gilda and Rainbow, while Lofty put the kettle on.

“It’s so good to meet you at last,” Holiday said to Gilda. “I’ve heard so much about you!”

“Yeah, I hear that Dash talks me up all the time,” Gilda said, still feeling a little smug pride about being called Rainbow’s favorite griffon. It was nothing she wouldn’t have guessed, of course, but it was nice to hear it confirmed.

“Oh, yes, her too,” Holiday agreed. “But mostly I’ve heard about you through the newspaper.”

That threw Gilda for a second. “Oh. The revolution.”

Holiday smiled at her sideways. “Yes, dear. That little old thing.”

Dash tensed up a little. Gilda just laughed. “Yeah, fair enough. I thought if there was anywhere in the world where I’d be ‘Dash’s friend from flight camp’ instead of ‘spearhead of the Griffonstan Revolution,’, it’d be Ponyville.”

“Of course, of course. If you don’t want to talk about it, I quite understand. Only, there have always been a few ancient texts I’ve wanted to get my hooves on, and the last government was a bit… ooh, let’s say proprietary about them.”

“You mean they wouldn’t let anyone look at them, and didn’t do a thing with them on their own?”

Holiday pursed her lips to keep from giggling. “I suppose that’s another way of putting it, yes.”

“It’s alright, you can say they sucked. I led a years-long guerrilla campaign against them, I know they sucked!”

Holiday couldn’t keep it contained any longer. She burst out laughing.

Scootaloo grinned, too. “So, how is it, being the face of the Revolution now that you’ve won?”

Gilda snagged a gingersnap from the table and sprawled back onto the couch. She crunched it up as she thought about that. Eventually, she shrugged. “Eh, too soon to tell. Even ‘won’ is kind of a strong word, there’s definitely still more than a few griffs out there who’d go back to the old ways like that.” She clicked her talons for emphasis. “But, y’know, it’s going good for early days. I finally got to leave that icy pit. It’s nice to see grass for a change. But enough about me.” She leaned forward and looked at Scootaloo. “I hear you’re going into stunt design.”

“Uh, yeah.” Scootaloo shifted awkwardly. “I mean, I know it’s not as impressive as actually flying in a stunt show, but that was never really an option.”

Dash shrugged. “Eh. Flying is good and all, but you know what’s better than flying? Flying without crashing and breaking your bones. You’re being too hard on yourself, kid.”

Holiday frowned. “Is something the matter, Eurus?”

“Um-- well--”

Fortunately for Scootaloo, that was the moment Lofty entered with the tea tray. “Oh, let me help with that, Aunt Lofty!”

She took the tray from Lofty, who was too surprised to question her, and started pouring out drinks. “Let’s see… lemon and honey for you, Aunt Holiday, cream and two sugars for Aunt Lofty, honey, cream, and five sugars for Dash…”

“Make it four. I’m trying to cut down.”

“Gilda? How do you take your tea?”

“I take it black. Gimme.”

“Okay. And cream and one sugar for me.” Scootaloo passed around the mugs and sat back. “So! What’s been happening in Ponyville while I was gone?”

Lofty glanced at Holiday for some kind of explanation. She merely shook her head wearily.

“Well, you haven’t missed too much,” Lofty said, picking up her tea. She paused to blow on it gently. “Not much changes in Ponyville.”

“And when it does, it makes national news,” Dash said.

“Global,” Gilda corrected. “You think you can just release a chaos god, or get a new princess, or whatever, and that’s gonna be an Equestria-only deal?”

“Fair,” Dash said, taking a sip of tea.

“We got a new restaurant a few months ago, didn’t we dear?” Holiday asked.

“Oh yes, the pizza parlor. What was it called, again?”

“The Big Cheesy, I believe. We should go there sometime while you’re in town, Scootaloo.”

“Oh, yeah, that sounds --”

Scootaloo was cut off when the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” Holiday said, hurrying out of the room.

“And, uh, Dash," Scootaloo said. "Um... How are the Wonderbolts?”

“Uh? Oh, good, good. Word is, Spitfire’s thinking of retiring soon, though. If she does that, then Soarin’s probably gone, too, and that’s more than half the top brass wiped out. So, y’know, that’s too bad. I’ll miss ‘em. On the other hand, they’ve both wanted to get out of the game for awhile now, and this does leave a certain amount of room for promotions…”

Holiday stuck her head back into the room, frowning. “Scootaloo, you know Lofty and I don’t mind having your friends over, but it would be nice if you could warn us when you’re inviting this many…”

“Oh.” Dash put down her tea. “Uh, sorry. We can, y’know, go.”

“Hm? Oh! No, no, no, Dash, you and Gilda are perfectly fine. It’s just the others…”

“Others?” Scootaloo echoed.

Sweetie Belle peeked around Holiday. “Hi, Scootaloo! Do you feel up for an investigation?”

---

Shining Armor was in his office, alternating between filing reports and flipping through the latest issue of Power Ponies. He was just getting to a really good bit when he heard a crackle of magic. He looked up, muscles tensing as a burst of pinkish sparks popped into being. A scroll fell onto his desk. He relaxed. “I wonder what Twilight wants,” he murmured, picking it up.

The door to his office banged open, and Shining set the scroll aside.

“Hi, honey!” Cadance said.

Shining smiled. “Afternoon, love.”

She trotted over to give him a peck on the muzzle. “I just came by to let you know that I’m going to Ponyville this evening. I’d bring you along, but somepony needs to keep control of the empire.”

Shining chuckled. “I’m sure the rest of the government can take care of itself for the evening.”

Cadance’s face tensed for a moment. “That’s as may be,” she said. “But this happens to be a very… sensitive situation with an old friend.”

“Oh?” Shining leaned forward on the desk. “Anyone I’d know?”

“The Doctor. You might remember him from a few years back?”

Shining arched a brow. “Cady. The stallion who brought back Sombra? Yeah, it rings a bell or two.”

“He… we’re having a sort of intervention. You don’t know him that well, so that’s kind of why I wanted you to stay behind.”

Shining nodded. “Alright, that’s understandable. I guess this scroll must be for you, then.”

“Scroll?” Cadance looked at the desk. “Oh! That’s funny. I would’ve expected Luna to send it, she seems the one spearheading the whole campaign.”

“Well, you know Twiley," Shining said, picking up the scroll. "She’s probably composed a list of talking points and techniques to de-escalate the situation.”

“Can’t be, it’s much too short. Anyway, you’re one to talk, Mr. ‘Revise-the-entire-guard-training-handbook-twice-a-year’.”

“You say that as though we don’t encounter enough weird and unique threats to justify that,” Shining said, breaking the seal. “Was the attack of the evil dust bunnies not enough to justify an extra couple of paragraphs?”

“Yes, dear. But at the rate we’re going, within a decade, those books will be heavier than the guards’ armor.”

“Information is the most powerful defense of all,” Shining said, flattening the scroll. After a few moments, the color drained from his face.

“What?” Cadance asked. “What’s wrong?”

Shining pushed back from his desk and rose. “I’m going to get Sunburst.”

“...Why’s that?”

“We need somepony to foalsit for Flurry Heart.”

“But--”

“I’m coming with you, Cadance. I just -- oh, read the letter.”

He stormed out while Cadance watched in astonishment. She picked up the letter and scanned it. Then, eyes wide, she read it again. She groaned and sat back, rubbing the bridge of her muzzle. “Oh, Twilight... This day just keeps getting better,” she muttered, picking up a quill and paper to compose a letter of her own.

---

Ditzy and the Doctor trundled up the road to Sweet Apple Acres, side by side. The Doctor had worried that, in the midst of his tinkerings, he might have accidentally disconnected the materialization circuits, or something equally important to the safe running of the TARDIS, and so had borrowed Carrot Top’s cart to haul it.

Privately, Ditzy thought that the TARDIS’s ability to travel in space and time might be just a little more important than getting her to talk, but she held her tongue. The Doctor had developed something of a defensive stance about his pet project, snapping at anypony who questioned it too much.

He was sleeping much more frequently than usual, too. Normally, Ditzy would welcome that; she loved getting to cuddle up close with her beloved. The nightmares he brought with him, however, made bedtime a much more fraught experience. Moreover, he never seemed to be well-rested. He had bags under his eyes almost constantly, and a vague, distracted attitude that left him prone to making simple mistakes. The disaster he’d left in the kitchen had been a prime example. Not only was he usually a competent cook, he’d actually forgotten all about the mess he’d left there all morning.

Ditzy was starting to worry that her husband was sick. It would be hard to tell -- Time Lords naturally had a much lower body temperature than ponies, and Ditzy wasn’t sure what temperature would be considered a fever. He didn’t seem particularly shaky, or phlegmy, or exhibiting any kind of visible symptoms at all. But it was clear that he wasn’t well; if not physically, then surely mentally.

The Doctor noticed she was staring at him. “What? Have I got something on my face?”

She took a moment to process that. “...Yes,” she said, thinking quickly. “This.”

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Oh!” He grinned at her. “I think there might still be a spot there.”

She smiled and kissed him again. “I think there might be something on my face, too.”

“Oh? Where?”

“Just on the tip of my muzzle.”

“Ah, yes, here it is.” He smooched her back. “Plain as day.”

They fell back into a steady trot, the moment of awkwardness already forgotten. But Ditzy hadn’t forgotten her worries. She needed to keep an eye on the Doctor…

---

Twilight felt terrible. This was, to be fair, a marked improvement over how she’d felt earlier, so at least she was getting better. She lay in bed with her eyes closed, thinking simultaneously about dozens of things and absolutely nothing at all. That was the worst part about being sick, in Twilight’s opinion. It wasn’t feeling feverish or stuffy or achey, it was the inability to think straight. She couldn’t focus on anything.

“Hey, Twilight. Hey.”

Twilight cracked open an eye. Trixie was looking down at her. “Are you feeling up to seeing visitors?” she asked.

“Wrrrr…” Twilight sat up and twisted her spine. There was a series of satisfying pops and cracks. She stretched her hooves and wings up as far as they could reach and shook her head vigorously. “Wah-uh,” she said, her throat too dry to speak properly.

Trixie passed her a glass of water, and Twilight drank it greedily. After a moment’s consideration, she placed it back on the nightstand. “Yes, I think I’m up for it,” she said.

Nurse Redheart paused in the middle of writing a report. “Are you… sure?” she asked.

“Please, I’m so bored. Anyway, I’m sure Spike is going stir-crazy out there.”

“That is probably true,” Trixie admitted.

Redheart looked unconvinced. She looked at the other two nurses. Both of them shrugged. “If you’re sure you’re up for it…”

“Hey, y’know what? You said yourself the medical community knows nothing about alicorns.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say nothing,” Redheart started. Twilight cut her off.

“My powers are derived from friendship. Maybe surrounding myself with friends would be healing for me.”

Redheart hesitated.

“I already feel better just talking to you and Trixie!”

Redheart sighed. “Oh… fine, let them in.”

Trixie grinned and telekinetically unbolted and opened the doors. There was a moment of silence. Then Spike peered around one edge of the door, and Sunset peeked around the other.

Then, pandemonium.

Sunset leapt out of her containment tub, instantly drying as her flaming mane, wings, and tail reignited in full force. Spike barreled in, clutching Rarity in his arms. Rarity herself, who had been enjoying a nice session of sitting in Spike’s lap while he rubbed her back and scratched her behind the ears, looked like a startled cat. Tender Care stumbled in last, cursing quietly about pins and needles. Redheart hurried to her side and helped her with a soft, apologetic kiss and a comfy chair.

“TWILIGHT!” Spike yelled joyfully, plopping himself down on her bed. Rarity struggled in his grip for a moment before resigning herself to her uncomfortable and decidedly un-fabulous fate hanging in his arms. “How are you feeling?”

“Um, pretty good. You are sitting on my tail, though, so if you could scooch just a bit…”

“Oh!” He flashed through relief, confusion, surprise, and finally embarrassed understanding before raising his bulk from the bed and scooting a few inches over. “Better?”

“Much, thank you. Uh, you think you could let Rarity go, champ? She’s looking a little, um…” Twilight searched for the word. “Smooshed.”

“Oh.” Spike blushed and set Rarity down gingerly on the floor. The back of her mane had been crushed, and all the fluff on her chest was sticking out at funny angles. “Sorry, Rarity.”

She took a few deep breaths and smoothed down her chest fluff. “Quite understandable given the circumstances, darling. On which note --”

She threw herself at Twilight’s bedside, eyes watering. “Oh, darling, how absolutely abhorrent! You could have died, Twilight! Died! It would have been the worst! Possible! Thing! I know, I do say that quite often, but I truly mean it this time! You are not allowed to die, Twilight Sparkle! I absolutely forbid it!”

She took several deep breaths, her mascara running. “Good heavens. I have been repressing a lot today, haven’t I?”

Hesitantly, Spike reached out to comfort her, but she batted his claw away with a hoof. “In a moment, darling, in a moment. The muse of tragedy remains in the room. Where was I? Oh yes. I would positively shatter if anything were to happen to you, darling!”

“...Yes,” said Twilight. “I… see that?”

Rarity wobbled a little and nodded. “Yes, very good. Just wanted to say all that. I am feeling a little woozy now, actually. Spike?”

Spike nodded and gently set her back in his lap, wiping the running mascara from her cheeks. He looked at Twilight. “So. Uh. Are you feeling okay?”

“I mean, I’ve been better,” Twilight said. “Physically? Not great. Psychologically and emotionally? Definitely shaken up. But I’m certainly not dying today.”

“Good! Good.” Spike shook his head. “Sorry, I’m definitely a little shaken up, myself.”

Twilight smiled. “I appreciate your concern. Both of you.”

“Thank you, darling,” Rarity murmured.

Sunset hopped up on the other side of the bed. “My turn! Hey, so I got you this --” she held out a magic suppressant ring. “If that sucker comes back, it’s gonna be in for a nasty surprise.”

Twilight took the ring and weighed it in her hoof meditatively. “I… don't know if this will help too much,” she said. “If it could take magic from my horn, it could get it from my wings, even my hooves. I’m an alicorn, I practically sweat magic.”

“Maybe so,” Sunset conceded. “But your horn is still by far the most direct conduit. It’ll exert the same force on you, but it’ll encounter much more resistance pulling magic out of your body through other parts. Also, this rules out the possibility of your skull collapsing like papier-mache.”

“There is that, yes,” Twilight agreed. “Nurse? Would this have any adverse effects on my recovery?”

Bandage glanced up from her paperwork. “No, I wouldn’t say so. In fact, it might help you from casting any spells on instinct, sort of like one of those cones that keep dogs from scratching themselves.”

“Possibly not the most flattering simile, but alright. Thank you.”

Twilight slipped the ring on over her horn. “And thank you, too, Sunset.”

“Feeling a little more secure, now?”

“Much,” Twilight agreed, smiling. She glanced around the room, at her friends who were gathered there, and her smile widened. “Much,” she repeated.

---

It took a few minutes for Scootaloo to wrangle her fellow Crusaders out of her aunts’ house, by which point she was pretty steamed at them all. She stood on the front stoop of the house, glaring daggers at her friends, who were arranged in a semi-circle on the lawn. “Well?” she demanded. “What is it? Because I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t all have barged in on the first meal in three months that I’ve had with my family plus Rainbow Dash and plus Rainbow Dash’s cool ambassador friend without a really good reason.”

The others shifted uncomfortably and exchanged nervous glances. Finally, Rumble stepped up to the plate. “We’re going Crusading,” he said.

Scootaloo regarded him through lidded eyes. “Crusading,” she repeated. “I don’t know if it’s escaped your notice, but all of us have our Cutie Marks. There’s nothing left. The Crusade is over.”

“The Cutie Mark Crusade might be,” Sweetie said. “But there’s something really weird going on in Ponyville.”

“When isn’t there? That doesn't make it our problem. I’ll see you at the party later.” She turned to go back inside.

“Something stole Twilight’s magic,” Button said quickly. “She could’ve died.”

Scootaloo paused, one hoof on the door handle. “...Okay. That’s --”

“The same force froze time for everypony except me and Caramel,” Dinky interrupted.

Scootaloo put her hoof back down on the porch. “...Alright. That sounds, uh, pretty dangerous.”

“It is,” Rumble and Dinky said in unison. He glanced at her oddly as she shook her head to clear it.

“Ah ain’t gonna lie, Ah weren’t too sure mahself about this,” Bloom admitted. “But somepony’s gotta take a stand, right? An’ it might as well be the group with th’ pony that has th’ time-travel cutie mark.”

“I…” Scootaloo trailed off, rubbing her nose. “Okay, that explains why Dinky is doing this. But what can I possibly--”

“It wouldn’t be a Crusade without you,” Dinky interrupted.

“--contribute?” Scootaloo finished, frowning at Dinky. “Y’know, interrupting me--”

“Isn’t going to convince me to help you,” Dinky finished the sentence along with her. “I know.” She pressed her hooves against her head. “I’ve got the worst sense of deja-vu.”

“Okay, I mean, that sucks and all. All of it. The deja-vu, the thing with Caramel, definitely the thing about Twilight losing her magic. But I don’t think I can be much help. Anyway, it’s not like I can just leave, I brought home two guests without even asking Aunt Holiday and Lofty. If I left them, then…” She trailed off, trying to think of the consequences for that action.

“Then that would be pretty uncool,” Dinky said, a split second before Scootaloo could.

Everypony fell absolutely silent. Button held up a hoof. “So… everyone heard that, right?”

Sweetie looked at Dinky for a long moment. “Bubble bobble,” she said.

“Needle noodle,” both unicorns said at once. “Flattering raffia taffeta. Shortcut coldcut uppercut shrew--”

Dinky waved a hoof for Sweetie to stop. “Raspberry blackberry hullabaloo,” she finished.

Sweetie put a hoof to her throat, her eyes wide. “Okay. You actually took the words right out of my mouth. I think this officially goes beyond ‘deja-vu’.”

Dinky groaned and rubbed her forehead. “Happening again,” she muttered. “It’s not as big this time, but that just makes it worse.” She waved a hoof in the air. “I’m getting echoes. Time repeating itself, like a skipping record.”

Scootaloo took a step closer to Dinky, but hesitated before she reached the lawn. “Seriously. Why do you want me to come with you?”

There was a moment’s pause. Then, confused, Apple Bloom said, “Why wouldn’t we? Yer our friend, Scoots. A’course we want you to come with us.”

Scootaloo lowered her head, thinking. Then, without a word, she turned and walked back into the house. Button slumped forward. “Oh,” he said.

Apple Bloom stared at her hooves and swatted a pebble, her face like stone.

Sweetie did her best to hide her disappointment. “Well, I guess it’s just us, then,” she said. “Dinky, you said you could feel it somewhere else?”

Dinky had her eyes clenched tightly shut, her horn glowing with golden light. “I can almost get a bead on it,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “It’s not far. I can just about--”

The door swung open and Scootaloo stepped out again. “Okay, it’s all good. Gilda and Aunt Holiday are talking about ancient Griffish society, and Rainbow Dash and Aunt Lofty are planning this summer’s junior flight camp, so I’m not leaving anypony in a weird situation. So, where are we going?”

Everypony stared at her except Dinky. She opened her eyes and looked around. “Vinyl and Octavia’s house,” she said with finality. “That’s where it is now.”

---

Vinyl studied her record collection minutely before selecting an old favorite standby from the shelf. Pulling it from its sheath, she slid it onto her home turntable rig. Now was the perfect time to get some practice in -- Octavia was out shopping, so she couldn’t interrupt Vinyl, or challenge her to a cello v. electronica battle, or throw herself onto the turntable, lounging there like a cat, and demand attention in the form of kisses. The last one was kinda cute, Vinyl had to admit, and the music battles were pretty fun. But every now and then, it was kinda nice to just get some good, solid practice in.

Vinyl switched on the amps and the turntable. A nice medley of beats filled the room, and she nodded along for a few minutes. The music sounded familiar. That wasn’t unusual -- Vinyl liked this record, and played it pretty often. But had she played it in the last couple of weeks? She was sure, all of a sudden, that she had.

Well, that didn’t matter much now. She put her hooves on the table and started to remix. After a few measures, she frowned. This sounded familiar, too. Every note she played, as soon as she played it, she could remember playing it before. Was she becoming a hack? No -- worse than that. She could remember playing this exact piece earlier today, again and again and again for -- hours, surely. Every time, she pulled the same record from the shelf, slipped it on the turntables in the exact same way, stared playing the exact same piece.

Desperate to assert her self-control, Vinyl thought ahead a few bars and deliberately played them differently from what she remembered. The chain of musical memory broke off abruptly, and Vinyl sighed in relief and slumped over the turntables, cutting off the music abruptly. For a moment, the only noise she could hear was the pounding of her heart.

Then, the door opened and Octavia poked her head in, frowning. “Vinyl! I told you, it’s lunchtime! I thought you were done practicing for the day, anyhow, you looked… look… pretty rubbish.”

“Tavi? When did you… get back… from shopping…” Vinyl trailed off. “You’ve been back for hours.”

“Yes? Obviously. You say that like I haven’t been--”

“Poking your head in every fifteen minutes,” Vinyl said, wide-eyed. “You’ve done that three times, now.”

“Ah! She does remember. A miracle. Come to lunch, Vinyl.”

“I… okay. Yes. I think I’d better…” She stood up and stumbled away from the turntable. Octavia’s face turned drawn and worried. “Vinyl? Sweetheart? Is something the matter?”

“It’s fine. Let’s get lunch,” Vinyl said gruffly.

Octavia patted her wife on the back. “Having one of those days, love? I understand. I’ve come over a bit funny myself, you know. Like, what do the Prench call it… day-jar view?”

“Deja vu,” Vinyl corrected.

“Mmph. Hideous language. They drop every other consonant, and the vowels -- Vinyl? You’ve gone all pale.”

“You’ve been having deja vu, too? Since when?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Probably comes from all the times I’ve had to tell you lunch was ready. It’s been, what five times now?”

Vinyl locked eyes with her wife, who gazed into those shining purple sunglasses and saw golden light shimmering in the reflection. “You agreed it was three just a minute ago.”

“I--” Octavia broke off, troubled. “No, that can’t be right. It’s -- how many times, now? How many times? I can remember having this same conversation with you, but -- you couldn’t have -- I couldn’t have -- Vinyl?”

The record skipped.

Vinyl studied her record collection minutely before selecting an old favorite standby from the shelf. Pulling it from its sheath, she slid it onto her home turntable rig. Now was the perfect time to get some practice in -- Octavia was out shopping, so she couldn’t interrupt Vinyl, or challenge her to a cello v. electronica battle, or throw herself onto the turntable, lounging there like a cat, and demand attention in the form of kisses. The last one was kinda cute, Vinyl had to admit, and the music battles were pretty fun. But every now and then, it was kinda nice to just get some good, solid practice in.

Comments

[FanOfMostEverything]

But at the rate we’re going, within a decade, those books will be heavier than the guards’ armor.

At which point, you can replace one with the other! Or stick the book on a handle and turn it into a hammer.

Excellent atmospheric creepiness. I just hope that ring can come off Twilight's horn when she wants it to; I see some issues down the line otherwise.

[Shilic]

Reckless Engineering is one of the Wildness Years novels. I never read it. I have nothing to say.

Time is skipping, huh? At first I was reminded of Midnight, but I think this is even worse.

[Coyote de La Mancha]

A wonderful building of continuing tension, while the hordes of friends cascading in on Twilight was a wonderfully uplifting counterpoint.