Chapter 7: Under Pressure
Friday, 12 of July, 1613, 15:36.
Dear makeshift scientific journal,
I SCREWED UP.
I SCREWED UP.
I SCREWED UP.
I SCREWED UP.
I SCREWED UP.
I SCREWED UP.
I SCREWED UP.
Signed,
Twilight Sparkle, MPhil.
Bearer of the Element of Magic.
Personal Protégé of Princess Sovereign Celestia of Equestria.
“So…” the Doctor drawled, pausing. “Is this normal?”
Derpy stopped for a moment to take the situation in.
A small distance from them, in the middle of a street in Ponyville, five colourful stallions fought over… something. She couldn’t really make out a word they were saying, but, whatever it was, it seemed to be a matter of life or death, as even the timid, gentle, total pushover Butterscotch sported a frown and spoke with frustration.
While arguments weren’t anything alien in Ponyville, what was unusual was the effect it had on the nearby ponies.
Bon Bon was crumbled on the floor, eyes wide and vacant, her breathing shallow and rapid as her friend Lyra Heartstrings usefully prodded her with a stick. Every passerby pony gazed with anxiety at the argument developing in front of Sugarcube Corner’s front gate, aside from one white unicorn mare who was too busy bobbing her head at her gigantic headphones’ beat. Even those ponies busy doing repair work hurriedly stepped away from their scaffolding, afraid that the wooden platforms would suddenly combust into flames, just like the buildings they were set up to repair.
Oh, and she was being accompanied by a two-hearted, time travelling alien with the shape of a handsome earth pony who had been ditched by his time machine after being literally killed by Apple Bloom’s cuteness two weeks ago.
Or so he claimed.
“Doc? There is nothing in this scene that is remotely normal.” Derpy sighed. “Which means it’s just another average day in Ponyville.”
The Doctor frowned. “That’s an oxymoron,” he said in a confused tone.
Derpy looked at the Doctor with an unamused expression, raising an eyebrow. Then she smirked mischievously.
“Exactly.” She turned her gaze towards the bickering stallions. “You’ll get used to it.”
Then the pink one took out a cannon out of absolutely nowhere.
And everypony in the area scattered in sheer panic.
“Get used to what, running? Why, I’m in my element!” the Doctor quipped as they ran away like hell.
Friday, 12 of July, 1613, 17:12.
Dear makeshift scientific journal,
I apologise for my earlier outburst. I have since calmed down, and can now further explain myself and the events transpiring here.
Earlier this morning, I was interacting with the earth pony stallion named Applejack MacBrightMacintosh Apple (henceforth referred to as Subject A) in order to further my current studies in the field of the magic of friendship. Following the instructions in Motor Mouth’s ‘Friendship Manual for Antisocial Loners Like You’, I decided to experiment with the interaction known as ‘friendly teasing’ or ‘ribbing’ regarding the topic of Subject A’s previous romantic relationships, which I believed would strengthen our friendship and make us more at ease with each other, as showcased by the friendly banter Subject A shares with the pegasus stallion Rainbow Blitz (henceforth referred to as Subject B).
However, I was interrupted by a written message sent by Princess Sovereign Celestia via Dragon FaxTM, requesting that the six of us, the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony (henceforth referred to as “the Bearers”), attend next year’s Grand Galloping Gala (henceforth referred to as “the Gala”). However, in an unforeseen turn of events, she sent only two tickets instead of the six required for all of us Bearers.
I have a series of hypotheses on the reason as to why this occurred.
Hypothesis 1: Prince Sovereign Artemis, Celestia’s twin brother and co-ruler, was misled into executing a pony by his unfamiliarity with modern cuisine. Such an incident seems to have affected Celestia on a deep emotional level, leaving her temporarily incapable of realising the error of her ways. So far it seems like the most reasonable explanation, as it stands upon empirical evidence such as the Princess’ second letter. However, it implies the possibility of Princess Celestia being capable of being mistaken, and that’s a preposterous, if not outright heretical, suggestion.
Hypothesis 2: She sent the six invitations through the mail. Since the post office is closed, however (I’ll get to that in a while), they haven’t been re-sent to either of us. However, this hypothesis does not explain why I was directly sent two tickets with the inscription “Twilight Sparkle plus date”, or, indeed, that every other communication with the Princess in the lead up to this event was done exclusively via Dragon FaxTM.
Hypothesis 3: This is all Spike’s fault. I don’t know how, this time, but perhaps he interfered in some way with the Dragon FaxTM in order to play a prank on me. Harsh, perhaps, but given his role in the Incident that ravaged Ponyville a week ago, I would be foolish to discard such a possibility.
Whatever the case, Subject A and me were soon joined by Subject B, performing an unorthodox landing atop Subject A, and so began a series of misunderstandings that spiralled out of control as swiftly as the air-speed velocity of Subject B. The aforementioned, unaware of the Princess’ request, thought that I intended to go on a romantic date with Subject A to The Gala. In a very unfortunate turn of events, so did Subject A, as it seemed that my friendly teasing went too far and strayed into the uncharted waters which are usually referred to as “flirting”, eliciting a rare and unwarranted reaction in him that might require further study. Regardless, both Subjects then proceeded to fight over the ticket, without trying to clarify the misunderstanding.
Sidenote: Shouldn’t they try to persuade me to invite them, rather than fight it out amongst themselves, winner takes all? While the idea of finding myself in the crosshairs of several stallions trying to win my favour is my own personal hell, I can’t help but find immensely frustrating and insulting that they act as if I have no agency whatsoever in this matter. Stallions can be so condescending. End sidenote.
Not long after, I crashed into the eldritch violation of the fundamental laws of physics earth pony stallion named Philippos Demian Pie (henceforth referred to as Subject P), who also expressed his interest in the tickets, without bothering to listen to the Princess’ request.
Unfortunately, the same situation would repeat itself with the unicorn stallion named Elusive (henceforth referred to as Subject E) and the pegasus stallion known as Butterscotch (henceforth referred to as Subject B2). And before I could clarify things, all of the aforementioned Subjects, who, it must be added, are my personal friends as well as my Co-Bearers, congregated around me and began to fight amongst themselves for their right to claim the ticket to the Gala.
As things started to get out of hoof, in a moment of panic and self-preservation I magicked myself into a place which I know my friends won’t look into.
Namely, the basement of the closed-off post office, currently undergoing forensic investigation due to pegasus stallion Crafty Crate’s sacrifice of seven unpaid interns to appease The Elder Ones.
Only Celestia knows the consequences of my mistake, and I dread to dwell upon them... yet the thoughts come to me unbidden.
What if they undergo a fallout and their friendship is shattered?
What if they decide I’m not worth the trouble and that they no longer want to be my friends?
What would happen should the Elements of Harmony be required once again, and the Bearers are no longer in speaking terms?!
…
… Wait.
Are those…
Explosions?!
Are they…?
Oh sweet Celestia, they’re killing each other in a Battle Royale for the ticket!
I… I’ve failed!
Equestria is doomed!
All because I pushed Applejack over the line with my teasing!
It’s all my fault!
The Princess will be so disappointed in me!
She probably hates me already!
I screwed everything up!
Most importantly, where will I live now that I can’t crash at my former friends’ places?!
I’M HOMELESS!
SPIKE BURNED THE LIBRARY DOWN!
AND I CAN’T GO BACK TO CANTERLOT SINCE THE PRINCESS HATES ME NOW!
I’LL HAVE TO GO ON EXILE TO GRIFFONIA OR ABYSSINIA!
OR MAYBE LIVE IN AN ABANDONED HUT SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE OF RUSSARIAN NEIGHBERIA OR MAYBE EVEN THE FROZEN NORTH!
I’LL FREEZE TO DEATH OUT THERE!
I’M NOT A WINTER CREATURE!
I NEED MY FLUFFY PLUSH SLIPPERS IN SUMMER OR I GET A COLD, FOR CELESTIA’S SAKE!
AND I DON’T WANT TO LIVE UNTIL THE END OF MY DAYS IN A DAMP BASEMENT FILLED WITH CORPSES AND BLOOD EVERYWHERE!
WHAT’S UP WITH THAT, BY THE WAY?!
IT’S BEEN OVER A WEEK, THE LEAST YOU COULD DO IS TAKE THE BODIES TO A MORGUE!
THEY’RE ALREADY DECOMPOSING!
IT SMELLS SO BAD!
WHAT HAVE I DONE?!
Signed,
Twilight Sparkle, MPhil.
Former Bearer of the Element of Magic.
Soon-to-be-Former Personal Protégé of Princess Sovereign Celestia of Equestria cusshetotallyhatesmenow
The outskirts of Sugarcube Corner had turned into a veritable warzone.
Artillery shells made out of sheer sugary goodness made the ground rumble upon impact, spattering pudding and frosting all across the vacant streets. A newly rebuilt house had been brought down by a direct hit, crumbling in upon itself obstreperously.
Holes had been dug into the ground by the force of the shells, giving Applejack some semblance of a chance against two winged ponies, one mage and whatever eldritch abomination Phil was that took upon the guise of an earth pony.
In times of war, every hole is a trench, Applejack grumbled as he covered his ears with his front hooves, trying to drown out the beating in his brain.
A shadow suddenly covered him. Before Applejack could roll out of the way, Butterscotch had him pinned to the ground, a shovel in his forehooves and an apologetic look in his face.
“Get off me!” Applejack shouted.
“I’m so sorry Applejack, but I really need that ticket! But I don’t want to bash your head in… Can we just pretend I bested you? Please?” Butterscotch rambled.
Applejack promptly bucked Butterscotch straight in the face, throwing him off him into the distance.
“Heck no! That ticket is mine!”
A thunderbolt struck the ground right beside Applejack, making him jump in alert.
“You’d wish!” Rainbow Blitz shouted from his vantage point on a cloud.
Applejack turned to death glare at Blitz. Then, slowly and deliberately, started walking towards him.
“Oh?” Rainbow exclaimed in amused surprise. “You’re approaching me? Instead of running away, you’re coming right to me?”
“Ah can’t beat the shit out of ya without gettin’ closer,” Applejack replied grimly. Nevermind the fact that Blitz was high in the sky, and Applejack had no way to reach him beyond his trusty lasso and maximum effort.
Blitz laughed mockingly. “Oh ho! Then come as close as you’d like.”
A magic bolt struck Blitz on the temple, promptly bringing him down his cloud without nary a groan.
Applejack blinked, confused, then another bolt hit him square in the chest, throwing him back into the hole he had just stepped out from.
Dazed, Applejack tried to stand up, but a pegasus landed on top of him, a shovel held lovingly in his grasp.
“Welp, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Butterscotch said sadly, then raised the shovel high into the air. Applejack hurriedly tried to cover his face, bracing himself for the pain.
A chocolate pudding cake smashed itself against Butterscotch’s side, promptly taking him with it into the side of a building, breaking down the wall upon impact.
“No one’s killing Applejack here but me!” Phil exclaimed with utmost cheer from his artillery position. “We are the two earth ponies, and there can only be one! It’s only natu—oof!” A swift cerulean blurr took advantage of Phil’s momentary distraction to shove him away from the cannon, giving everypony a moment’s reprieve.
Just a moment’s, for the artillery’s controls were soon engulfed in a light blue hue.
Applejack’s eyes widened in dread as the cannon turned straight at him. As scenes of his life flashed before his eyes, he could make out the shape of the delicious apple pie that would spell his end the moment it made contact with his face.
“I take no pleasure from doing this,” Elusive stated, “but if it’s any consolation, my dear, I’m doing it for the good of Equestria.”
Mommy, Applejack near whimpered.
Oblivion came to meet him straight in the face.
It tasted like apples.
The sun had already come down by the moment all five stallions slumped into a pile by Sugarcube Corner’s front door, bruised and wounded and tired beyond words.
Blitz could feel his right eye start to swell, his body aching all over from the damage endured. Besides him, Butterscotch breathed heavily, blood spattered across his face.
“That…” Elusive took a dry gulp, his mane disheveled and stained with frosting, “... was actually pretty fun, but let’s not do it again.”
Blitz had to agree. Hours and hours of all-out warfare between the five of them, and there were no winners. Only five exhausted stallions lying flat on their backs and gazing into the beautiful night sky as they spoke.
“Or at least, let’s do it outside of town,” Applejack noted wearily, looking over the devastated street, and cradling his soiled stetson between his forehooves like a wounded comrade. “Ah don’t wanna give Mayor Mare any more reasons to throw us outta Ponyville…”
Blitz frowned. “Come on, if they didn’t exile the girls and Spike for the Incident, why would they exile us for destroying a street or two?”
“Because unlike them, we are all responsible adults,” Elusive answered.
Absolute and oppressive silence.
Elusive coughed. “... Legally responsible adults, that is.”
The rest of the stallions muttered their agreements with Elusive’s amended statement.
“The girls and Spike are all under fourteen years old, and therefore cannot be held legally accountable for their actions,” the unicorn cut through his friends’ mutters.
“Yeah, why do ya think Apple Bloom never got into no trouble with the law fer killin’ Caramel?”
“I thought that was because nopony really cared,” Phil pointed out.
Applejack shrugged. “Well, yeah, Ah mean, that sure helped a lot, but still.”
“Did they ever get around to burying him?” Butterscotch asked.
“Nah. Some guys at the Weather Crew just took his corpse and dumped it somewhere over the Everfree Forest.”
After a few seconds of silence, Phil simply muttered, “Huh.”
Then silence descended anew upon them.
"Oh, I know what we could do!" Phil piped suddenly and cheerfully as he jumped to his hooves, apparently unaware of the possible head trauma Butterscotch’s shovel may have caused when he brained him with it, sticky, warm blood running down his temple.
"I'm scared," Butterscotch mumbled meekly, and Blitz had to agree with him.
Phil?
Having an idea?
That’s a recipe for disaster.
"How about we compete in a number of tasks and winner overall takes the ticket? That way we can solve this like gentlecolts, and we don't burn what's left of Ponyville to the ground!"
As if to emphasise his argument, a lamppost promptly broke down through the middle, smashing against the ground with a metallic bang.
Complete silence as the stallions stared at Phil, at each other, and at the lamppost.
Elusive was the first to break it.
"Phil, that's… actually a sensible idea. Colour me impressed."
"Well, duh. I always have great ideas, you meanies just don’t appreciate them. Like this even better idea, in which we can just ask Twi—"
"Dude, you've already made the sale," Blitz cut him off. "Stop talking."
"But—"
"Seriously, shut up Phil."
"But I ju—"
Applejack sighed in annoyance. "Hate to say it, but Ah agree with Blitz. That's enough outta ya', Phil. Shut yer yapper."
Even Butterscotch took their side.
"If that's okay with you, of course."
Sorta.
“You meanies,” Phil sighed heavily, then perked up. "Okay, but I go first!"
Elusive shrugged. "Fair enough, it was your idea after all," he conceded.
"I challenge you all… to… A BAKE OFF!"
Nopony said a word for a while. Blitz couldn’t really tell how much time they all spent in shocked silence, all of them keenly aware of how unfairly outmatched they were against Phil.
Eventually, he blinked numbly. "Can't we just go back to murdering each other?" Butterscotch nodded eagerly, eliciting a terrified look from Elusive.
"Nope!" Phil smiled widely. "Onwards, my good fellows! To the bakery!"
Thank Celestia that they were literally standing in front of it. Blitz’s aching body couldn’t have taken a long trip.
Friday, 12 of July, 1613, 23:45.
Dear makeshift scientific journal,
I have resolved the interrogation regarding why the bodies haven’t been taken to a morgue.
The morgue also burned down.
“Oh, but Twilight,” I can hear you asking, my dear makeshift scientific journal, in a rich yet mellow voice, “can they not take them to another settlement then? If you were to take the train, it would take you merely four to five hours to reach Canterlot, depending on the railroad’s conditions.”
Good question, my dear makeshift scientific journal! Albeit one with a very simple answer:
The train station also burned down.
Celestia-DAMN-it, Spike, this is all your fault.
Signed,
Twilight Sparkle, MPhil.
Former Bearer of the Element of Magic.
Former Personal Protégé of Princess Sovereign Celestia of Equestria.
As it turns out, Sunday baking with Granny Smith a master did not make.
Applejack grumbled under his breath as he struggled to turn the greenish paste in his bowl into something vaguely resembling the image in the cookbook Mr. Cake had apprehensively lent him.
“Mr. Cake, the one who poisoned Caramel was mah lil’ sister, not me,” he had tried to reassure the thin stallion.
“Oh, Applejack, nopony cares about that,” Mr. Cake had chuckled nervously. “It’s just that… well…” He had lowered his voice. “Just please make sure they don’t also burn my house down, will you? I don’t want to end up homeless like the other half of Ponyville.”
“Will do, partner!”
And so far, so good! Applejack had already interrupted three potential fires breaking out thanks to Rainbow Blitz’s non-existent attention span, although at the price of his own apple pie.
Or whatever the heck that greenish paste was supposed to be.
Applejack could swear it was moving out of its own volition.
Two apple seeds twisted and twirled until they came to stare at him.
The paste gurgled a loving squeak.
It recognised Applejack as its father.
“... Nnope.”
He tossed the paste down the drain.
“How’s it going, Applejack?” Phil bounced towards him.
Applejack glanced at the drain. Phil followed his gaze.
“No ticket for you, then!” he said, and then he bounced away.
What even is my life anymore, Applejack rued. It was all Twilight’s fault. She arrives one day, and then the Night King takes over the world, he turns out to be the wielder of a magical necklace, gets poisoned by his little sister, bucks a dragon in the face in order to save his hometown, said little sister demolished half of the town he wanted to protect at the exact same time of the dragon showdown, he falls in love with a wonderful mare who is likely out of his league, and now fathered a literal apple paste blob monster... all within, what, four weeks? Seriously, what the hay.
Of course, Phil won this round of the competition.
Then again, Applejack had created a blob monster and threw it down the drain, Rainbow Blitz had only a burnt husk of what was meant to be a butter cake, Butterscotch had made a maggot cake for birds, and Elusive’s pie looked wonderful but sorely lacked in taste.
Meanwhile, Phil’s cake was a model of Canterlot made out of pure frosting, with currents of vanilla, chocolate and strawberry ice-cream running underneath the surface.
“Show-off,” Blitz grumbled, but Applejack noted he was deep in his fourth serving of cake.
“Well, that’s a wrap, I believe,” Elusive said, between bites. “Phil one, the rest of us zero. Do we have any proposals for the next round?”
Phil piped up. “How about we ask Twi—”
“Phil, please, you already had your turn,” Butterscotch cut him off politely. “It’s only fair another pony has his, now.”
“Bu—”
“Seriously, dude,” Blitz rolled his eyes, “show-stealing much?”
Phil grumbled something unintelligible, but didn’t protest any further.
“Well, if there are no proposals, then I shall be in charge of our next competition,” Elusive claimed. “It is my pleasure to challenge all of you to a fashion make-over.”
Silence.
“Elusive, I know fashion is your passion and all, but that’s really fucking gay,” Blitz stated flatly.
“Yeah, ain’t no way Ah’m doin’ any of that queer stuff,” Applejack pinched his nose in disgust. The rainbow pegasus agreed.
Elusive frowned. “I see. My, what a pity. I would have greatly enjoyed for my friends to see fashion as I do rather than through a ill-informed, bigoted and offensively sexist perception, but it seems it was not meant to be,” he stated melodramatically, shooting them an annoyed look. Then a smirk started tugging at the unicorn’s lips. “Yet I believe that such a retraction from our agreed competition means you guys are abdicating your claim to the ticket.”
Rainbow’s wings flared in indignation. “In your dreams! That ticket is mine!”
“Oh?” Elusive seemed unimpressed. “And you aren’t afraid of doing ‘queer’ stuff for it?”
Rainbow Blitz got flustered. “What?! Me? Afraid? Pfff, please! I’m not afraid! In fact...” and without any further ado, he turned and smacked a big, deep kiss straight into Applejack’s mouth. Elusive raised his eyebrows mildly impressed, Butterscotch made a small squeak of surprise and Phil started cheering happily at the sight.
Applejack, however, didn’t share any of his friends’ enthusiasm. In fact, the complete opposite. Eyes wide and heart beating fast and furious, he started thrashing wildly to get himself free from Blitz. It was futile, though, for the other stallion’s hold was too strong for his panicked state.
After a full five seconds passed, the pegasus released him, and boasted, “There! Would I do that if I was afraid?”
Applejack started gasping desperately for air, running towards the sink to try and drown himself with copious amounts of water, desperately trying to cleanse his mouth from Blitz’s own.
Whatever else was said afterwards between the stallions, however, was white noise to Applejack’s ears, still reeling from… whatever that was.
He was still wheezing and coughing as Elusive started guiding them towards the Boutique under the cover of night, shooting furtive, hateful glares in Rainbow Blitz’s direction.
He sorely wished to buck him straight into next week.
He hated the stallion’s gall to just straight up kiss him in the mouth, in blatant disregard of everything.
Applejack hated the fact that he had, by no choice of his own, exchanged a kiss with another stallion, when just that very morning he had vehemently denied being a colt-cuddler.
And first and foremost, he hated the fact that he hadn’t hated the kiss.
Hemsday, 13 of July, 1613, 4:24.
Dear makeshift scientific journal,
I can’t sleep.
Y’know.
‘Cause it smells like dead ponies in here.
Because there are dead ponies in here.
Like, seven of them.
And no, I’m not cleaning this! It’s a crime scene! I would interfere with the forensic investigation and could be charged with obstruction of justice!
As if I needed another crime to be charged with!
…
I miss my books.
I’m getting bored.
Maybe… Maybe I could skim through the stored parcels? That’s some reading material...
No! Bad Twilight!
That would be immoral! Unethical! Maybe even illegal!
No, I will not invade the privacy of the ponies that use the post office to get in contact with their loved ones!
I’m better than that!
Signed,
Twilight Sparkle, MPhil.
Former Bearer of the Element of Magic.
Fugitive of the Law and Former Personal Protégé of Princess Sovereign Celestia of Equestria.
Butterscotch had never thought that, behind the main saloon in the Boutique, prim, pristine and proper, laid the utter mess of fabrics, stitches and cat hairs that was Elusive’s workshop. Nothing was at its proper place. Needles stuck out the middle of the fabrics, jobs left half-done as the tailor had begun a new project in the midst of his current one. Gems, to be used for finishings, were thrown into a pile by a corner. And seriously, there were cat hairs everywhere.
It made Butterscotch’s inner OCD’s skin crawl. True, he was the last pony alive to be unfamiliar with animal hairs being everywhere, but he lived in a cottage at the edge of the forest, a home to all the animals that needed or wanted it. Animal hairs were part and parcel of the deal.
But Elusive was supposed to be Ponyville’s preeminent (and only, really) tailor! Animal hairs did not belong here!
“Uhhmm…” he hesitated to say it, aware of how hypocritical and mean it would come across as, but Elusive beat him to it.
“Yes, Opal loves to sleep on top of the fabrics,” he said with a sheepish smile. “But magic takes care of it in no time!” and with a flash of blue, the hairs were banished into the unknown dimension the vanished by arcane means go to rest. “Ta-dah!”
“Amazing.” Rainbow Blitz’s deadpan tone said otherwise.
“Shush, you,” the unicorn didn’t turn to look at him. “We have no time to waste, so let’s get on with this!”
“‘This’ bein’...?” Applejack asked tentatively.
“You pick out a particular style of dressing, and then try your hoof into replicating it for yourselves! I have some notebooks and magazines over there” – he pointed towards another messy part of the workshop. Butterscotch cringed at the absolute chaos of it all – “if you need some inspiration.” The stallions shared a glance between themselves. “Well? What are you waiting for? Get on to it!”
All in all, it was a rather fun experience, at least from Butterscotch’s point of view. Of course, that was because he had a fairly good idea of what he wished to make, so picking out the right fabrics was an easy task, and he had always had some talent for delicate hoofwork. It was hard to tell how was Phil faring, for everything he did he did it with a smile.
On the other hoof, Applejack had the same skill for sewing as he did for baking, and was getting hopelessly tangled in his fabrics, while Rainbow Blitz was trying to wrest his clothes away from Elusive’s cat, Opal, who guarded them with the zeal and violence of a dragon. A monstruous murderous dragon, an unworthy, miserable worm that he would relish in destr—
Butterscotch blinked, confusion washing away the sudden red that had taken over his sight. Where did that come from?
“What are you doing?” the groggy voice of a barely awake filly interrupted his thoughts.
“Ahh, Sweetie Belle…” Elusive flinched. He clearly had forgotten about his little sister. “We, uh…”
“We’re duking it out amongst ourselves for Twilight’s spare ticket for the Grand Galloping Gala! We’re now having a fashion make-over!” Phil jumped from his spot. Applejack grimaced behind him, still uncomfortable with the nature of their current activity.
Sweetie Belle’s eyes lit up, her drowsiness vanishing in an instant.
“Oh! Can I help? Please? Please? Please?” she begged her elder brother.
Elusive looked at her as if he was constipated. After a long silence, he let out a sigh. “Alright.”
“YAY!” she cheered loudly, jumping on the spot with excitement.
She’s so cute, Butterscotch smiled internally.
Until he found his insides squirming at the sight, a small shiver running down his spine. Butterscotch frowned, but his head was dizzy and oh Celestia the air was so thick...
“How about you go help Phil?” Elusive proposed, an awkward smile in his face.
“OKAY!” The filly shot towards the pink stallion’s workstation, and suddenly Butterscotch could breathe again, and the world came to be once again. What the hay…? Ignoring the sinking feeling in his gut, he shook his head and turned back to his work.
Meanwhile, Sweetie Belle was doing everything she could to be of use to Phil, cheerfully obeying his every command, up to including bringing him snacks.
“When I grow up, I want to be a fashion designer like Elusive!” Sweetie Belle happily told Phil. "I want to have a cutie mark like his!"
“You know,” Phil chuckled, “when I was a little filly I wanted to be a velociraptor.” Sweetie Belle frowned in confusion, but her cheer was undiminished. “Then I learned that velociraptors aren’t, y’know, a talent, but rather another whole species of extinct beings! Crazy, right?”
“Uhh… Sure, if you say so,” the filly said. “What does that have to do with my cutie mark, though?”
“I’m getting there! Well, I didn’t realise it back then. ‘It’ being why I wanted to be a dinosaur. Then I realised that I just wanted to be something else than who I’m destined to be. I love parties, and I’m good at parties. They’re my passion. But we’re more than that. So much more. And yet life and society reduces all your being into a single drawing that signals your special talent.” Sweetie Belle blinked. “For example, imagine that a pony’s cutie mark is a trashcan. Is that all the good he is to this world? Is his whole identity negated by it? When you’re a little filly all you wish is to have your cutie mark, to be considered a grown-up, to be accepted by society. But you rarely stop to think... Is that the pony you want to be? The profession upon which your whole worth is decided?” Sweetie Belle blinked again. “Because they won’t let you be anything else than that. And one morning you might wake up and realise that this wasn’t the life you wanted for yourself, and that all your youth has been wasted following mirages projected by your worship for this or that hobby, instead of finding something that truly speaks to you as a pony, that fulfills you to the most basic part of your being, beyond what your cutie mark is telling you.” Sweetie Belle stopped blinking. “And is that a life worth living? You would live a lie. You’d be ashamed to look at yourself in the mirror, because the pony that looks back at you is not who you really are, and you’re helpless to change it. And all that would ensue after that is a sense of deep self-loathing, because you’re not who you truly are, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Don’t follow the path they will set you upon, for only sadness and misery awaits at the other end. Know what I mean?” he finished cheerily.
Sweetie Belle stared blankly at Phil for a full minute.
“... okayithinki’mgoingtobednow…” she eventually muttered, turning around and leaving the workshop. She didn’t blink once.
Elusive shot Phil a sour glance. “Phil, you just melted my sister’s brain.”
“Did I? Sorry!”
The unicorn sighed. “If she ends up needing therapy, you’re paying the bills.”
“Okey dokey lokey!” Phil saluted, and got back to work with a wide smile.
The end result was surprisingly more even that anypony would have thought.
All things considered, Butterscotch was rather satisfied with the look he had come up with, draped in fine furs and linen like an old Selerish chieftain. All he was lacking to look the part was the bushy beard, but he had styled his mane backwards and added some braids here and there for style. It was a bit crude and brutish, but quite impressive for an amateur.
Applejack and Blitz, on the contrary, had fared poorly. Very poorly. Butterscotch couldn’t even begin to fathom what they’d had in mind when they designed their new look, because it frankly didn’t really look like anything at all. They just looked as if they had threw some stray fabrics here and there and changed their mane styling in the shoddiest way possible.
Phil had dressed himself like a jester, puffy platinum white clothes and a lace ruff around his neck, bright red buttons in his chest. It was a very classy look… Until you got to the face. Powdered white, hair styled into three distinct points that stuck out of his head in an unnatural angle, and red lines that streaked from his lips and crossed his eyes perpendicularly.
It looked like something straight out of one of Elusive’s numerous horror novels that lined the shelves.
Finally, Elusive obviously looked like a true gentlecolt straight out of Trottingham or Prance, a fake moustache reinforcing a sense of maturity and dignity that had always been mostly understated. His refined look was something that wouldn’t only mesh wonderfully in Canterlot’s high society, but set the standard of fashion that would be followed for the following years.
Three guesses on who won, Butterscotch thought with a frown.
“Well, I’ll say that the competition was far steeper than I had anticipated!” Elusive laughed politely. “Settling for a winner will be certainly more difficult than expected. Anypony could win!”
There was a three-seconds-long pause.
“Not you two, you guys lost.”
Applejack grumbled under his breath, and Blitz rolled his eyes, shaking away the fabrics from his body and returning his mane to its usual messy style.
Elusive coughed to get the others’ attention back. “So! Let’s start with you, Phil. Any particular reason for that, ah, choice of style?”
“Weeeeeeell, you said I broke Sweetie Belle’s brain, and that was pretty fun, so I decided to dress up like another creature that terrifies children so I can keep on traumatising her! I’m Pennywise, the Dancing Clown!” And without further ado, he started bouncing up in the spot, grinning widely.
It was a sight that would give Butterscotch nightmares for weeks to come.
“Oh, the monster clown from Prolific Quill’s It?” Elusive gave a slight smile at the recognition, but frowned immediately after. “Isn’t he named Penneighwise though, my dear?”
Phil paused for a moment, looking at Elusive with a condescendent expression. “Sure, let’s go with that,” he said eventually with a shrug.
“Also, I’d really appreciate if you didn’t traumatise my sister any further,” The unicorn added hastily.
“Can’t make any promises!” Phil cheerfully replied.
“Eh, at least I tried,” Elusive shrugged, then turned to Butterscotch. “And you, Butters? What was the thought process behind your look?”
“Oh! We-well, it’s just that… Uhm… It’s nothing, really…” The credit should really go to Twilight, not to me. She was the one who gave me the books about Norhest.
Ever since he had moved to Cloudsdale, Butterscotch had been shamed for his northern precedence. Called a brute, a barbarian, an unwashed vandal. It didn’t help that most of his school lessons only cared to teach those exact same traits of the Nordics, so the shame never truly went away. Instead, it was reinforced, and this time coming from the oblivious teachers themselves.
Until Twilight lent him those wonderful books about Nordic customs and culture. They opened his eyes to a whole new world that he had never known even existed: the emphasis the Nordics put on generosity, kindness, and poetry offered quite a contrast with their brutish and barbaric reputation, and their lives were based upon a harmony between pony and nature that was unparalleled across Equestria. They were great warriors, that much was true, but they were also amazing poets, had a rich literary tradition, and were by far the most egalitarian of all of Equestria’s constituent kingdoms. There was so much more to them than just braided warriors raiding coasts and pillaging defenseless villages. So much more upon which to take pride.
“It’s a reference to your Norhestian ancestry, right?” Elusive prodded politely.
“Y-yes. Exactly. Well, really, it’s more of a Selerish style than a Norhestian one, because as Norhest is an earth pony nation they don’t really have much in the way of wing clothes, unlike Selerige. I could have always just left my wings uncovered, but then I would been changing tradition for commodity and...” He trailed off. Everypony was staring straight at him. Oh Celestia everypony was staring. Straight. At. Him. Butterscotch immediately clammed up with a small squeak, his heartbeat accelerating rapidly as he hyperventilated.
Elusive laughed softly, shaking his head. “I’m glad you’ve found a nation to which you belong” –he said as he walked towards Butterscotch and put a hoof on his shoulder– “and that you take pride in it and its history.” The unicorn’s voice was wistful. “Not to mention that you pull it off masterfully! Have you ever considered a career in modelling?” Elusive asked appreciatively.
The close presence of a supporting friend did wonders to help Butterscotch relax. “Th-thanks,” he said as his heart-rate slowed down and his breathing became less laboured. However, the idea of being a model was just as nerve-wrecking, so it wasn’t as effective as he had hoped.
Fortunately, Elusive didn’t continue on with that proposal. Instead, he smirked. “But the fact that I appreciate the thought and insight or even the execution itself that went into your style doesn’t mean you win the competition.”
“... Oh.”
Well, that’s some bullshit, Butterscotch felt his blood boil.
“Now hol’ up one secon’, partner,” Applejack interrupted before Elusive could begin to gloat, Butterscotch’s anger vanishing as suddenly as it appeared. “We should have a impartial judge decide this!”
Elusive pursed his lips. “Well, I was going to ask Sweetie Belle to be our judge, but Phil melted her brain, so that’s out of the question.”
“And she would have given you the win, too!” Rainbow Blitz pointed out. “You rigged this whole competition!”
“She would not!” Elusive replied, offended.
“Yeah, she totally would,” Phil stated bluntly.
Butterscotch nodded his agreement.
Elusive let out a deep sigh.
“Fine. As it seems some ponies are too sore of a loser to appreciate true fashion, we’ll just call it a draw” the unicorn lamented, caressing his fake moustache. “I’m totally keeping this, by the way,” he muttered, all the while shooting a pointed glare at Applejack. “You’re the one who took my rightful victory away from me, so what do you propose?”
“Well,” Applejack began with a harrumph. “Now that we’re done with this sissy crap, we work like real stallions! We divide mah family’s orchard into five parts, and the first pony to clear their part gets a win!”
“You just want us to do your job for you, don’t you, Applejack?” Rainbow raised his eyebrows in skepticism.
Applejack had the decency to blush. “Well, that’s just a bonus.”
“Honest pay for honest work,” Elusive nodded slowly. “Yes, I believe it’s only fair.”
Butterscotch felt the obligation to speak up. “Can’t we do this tomorrow? It’s awfully late…”
“Obviously. If we’re buckin’ trees at this hour, I bet Big Mac would shoot us on sight with dad’s ol’ crossbow,” Applejack chuckled.
“I can put together some couches for you to crash on.” Immediately, Elusive’s horn lit up, cleaning up the workstations they had set up and bringing couches, pillows and cushions for all five stallions to sleep on. The instant they were set up, Blitz wordlessly collapsed on top of one of the cushions.
“Good call,” Phil nodded appreciatively. “We could also just ask Twilight for—”
Blitz didn’t even look up.“Shut up, Phil.”
“What? I’m serious!”
“So am I. Shut up.”
“Meanie.”
“Anyhow, so tomorrow we eat breakfast and then we’re off to the farm?”
“Eeyup,” Applejack confirmed as he took his place on the cushions as far away from Rainbow Blitz as possible. Butterscotch frowned in confusion.
“It is agreed, then. I’m looking forward to it. I really believe I have a shot at—”
“No magic allowed,” the farm stallion glared at Elusive with a grin. “It’s only fair,” he added, mimicking Elusive’s posh Trottish accent.
“Oh.” A pause. “Well, fuck you too, Applejack.”
Hemsday, 13 of July, 1613, 10:44.
Dear makeshift scientific journal,
I’m not better than that.
I went over every single letter and notice in the post office’s basement overnight just to avoid a reading withdrawal.
Regardless of how unhealthy my physical dependency of reading might be, I must say that, besides the usual “how-you-do” letters, there was some very interesting things to be learnt!
For example, do you remember that King Eóward II of Trottingham died a week ago? Well, of course you don’t, you’re an inanimate object. Plus, I haven’t told you yet. Anyhow, he left behind a teenage daughter, Oathkeeper, as his only heir. She’s about, what, fifteen? Believe it or not, she was still a blank flank.
Well, she was crowned Queen of Trottingham just a hoofful of days ago, and – get this – the moment the crown was laid on her head, she got her cutie mark! According to the Royal Notice, it’s a perfect rendition of her own crown as Queen! I mean, if that’s not being destined to rule, I don’t know what it is. Let’s just hope she helps steer Equestria through safe waters, if Elusive’s assessment of our current politics is correct.
… Elusive…
Is he still alive?
Is any of them still alive? Those were an awful lot of explosions…
...
Oh, yeah, by the way:
No tickets here.
Hypothesis 2 proven wrong.
Buck me sideways.
Signed,
Twilight Sparkle, MPhil.
Former Bearer of the Element of Magic.
Undesirable Number 1, Former Personal Protégé of Princess Sovereign Celestia of Equestria.
P.S.: How does “a hoofful” even work, anyway? I feel like this warrants some deeper consideration.
Though it had barely just started and he had overslept by a few hours, Big Mac was having a great day so far.
His bed was warm and comfy, Apple Bloom hadn’t gotten to any hijinks or shenanigans during the night (perhaps because Granny Smith had grounded her for shouting in the house, and she knew better than to go against her), and Granny had even baked a delicious apple pie for breakfast. The sun kissed his coat with gentle warmth, and a wonderful, refreshing breeze came from the north.
What a lovely day, Big Mac thought with satisfaction as he donned his work collar and opened the door towards the apple tree fields.
His heart sank immediately.
The farm was a complete disaster.
A small batch was positively harvested, true, but here, apple trees were scattered and brought down as if hit by a tornado that shot lightning. There, they were rearranged in a fashionable if thoroughly impractical manner, and the apples were covered in non-edible, glittering paint. Another patch was overrun with critters and pests that were eating their and contaminating their produce. And only Celestia knew what that thing over there was even supposed to be. He refused to even acknowledge it.
Looking down the orchard, Big Mac sighed in deep despair as he got on with fixing it.
Being the eldest son sucked.
Hemsday, 13 of July, 1613, 16:28.
Dear makeshift scientific journal,
I admit I am growing fond of you. Once (and if) I get out of here, I will transcribe all the entries written in these scattered parchments into my professional scientific journal.
The scientific journal that was a gift by Shiny.
For earning my MPhil…
Great.
Now I’m sad.
Because there’s no way I’m not getting stripped of that.
My family will probably disinherit me as well.
I will have to change my name, too.
Signed,
The pony formerly known as “Twilight Sparkle”, Former MPhil.
Former Bearer of the Element of Magic.
Undesirable Number 1, Former Personal Protégé of Princess Sovereign Celestia of Equestria.
… OH, WHAT EVEN AM I NOW?!
AM I EVEN SOMETHING AT ALL?!
P.S.: I still don’t know how “a hoofful” works. Goes to show how worthless I am.
“Let us never speak of this again,” Butterscotch decided, to the agreement of his friends.
Phil shrugged. “Hey, at least we didn’t burn your house down.”
“That’s not something to be proud of, Phil,” the butter pegasus replied, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Angel is going to need therapy after that! And Harry! And Mr. Theofylaktos! And even Stormageddon, Dark Lord of All!”
“Well, I guess we’re all losers here…” Elusive muttered. “We’ve all had our turns, which leaves us with—”
“My turn!” Blitz proclaimed, puffing his chest.
“Five bits say it’s a race,” Applejack muttered to Elusive.
“Deal.”
Hemsday Sunda Mond
Dear makeshift scientific journal,
I’ve lost track of time.
Has it been days? Weeks? Months? Years? Or just mere minutes?
It’s hard to tell down here, in this basement.
What has happened outside?
Is there even a Ponyville to come out to?
Has it been destroyed for good?
It’s been awfully quiet since those explosions.
I’m starting to get hungry, too.
I haven’t eaten at all since breakfast yesterday.
Or was it the day before yesterday?
I… I can’t tell.
And I don’t know what to do.
I’m surrounded by death and blood, yet I feel far safer here than facing the real world outside.
I’m scared.
Signed,
No One.
I’ve lost everything.
Of course it was a race.
It’s Rainbow Blitz, after all.
“Come on, try to catch up! Even Butters is doing better than you!”
“I CAN’T FLY, YOU ASSHOLE!” Elusive roared, out of breath. And neither could Applejack, but he was certainly more athletic than him. And Phil seemed to have missed the part where the laws of physics claimed dominion over him.
The cerulean pegasus snickered. “Not my problem~!” he said in a sing-song voice.
“I WILL STEP ON YOUR NECK, RAINBOW BLITZ!”
“What?” Blitz mocked him, zooming away in the distance. “I can’t hear you~! You’re too slow~!”
The snowy peaks of the Canterhorn shook under the roar of pure rage that echoed across Equestria.
Hey.
There’s only a limited amount of times you can read all the same letters and notices before you feel like you’re starting to lose your mind.
Like, I just heard something like a roar just now, the roar of a lion combined with a dragon with a pinch of tiger.
But that’s just silly. There are no lions, nor tigers, near Ponyville. And I’m pretty sure we took care of the dragon, too. So I think I’m starting to hear things and stuff. That can’t be healthy.
I need food.
I need water.
I need BOOKS.
Sweet, sweet books.
Lovely books.
New books.
Informative books.
Books…
I need books…
In the end, they were in the same place where they began, both literally and metaphorically.
Bickering in front of the now-ravaged street in front of Sugarcube Corner, with no solution at hoof nor any advance at all in settling their dispute.
“You know what?!” Phil screamed at the top of his lungs, fed up with the endless argument. “Let’s settle this the old-fashioned way!” Wordlessly, Butterscotch pulled out his shovel, Phil’s since-rusted blood still staining the steel. “With a good ol’ –” he pulled out a small cardboard box from his puffy mane “– game of cards!”
Elusive visibly deflated, sighing deeply in defeat.
“What, do you have any better ideas?” Phil challenged.
Nopony said anything.
“This competition is rigged, I tell you...”
Okay, Elusive muttered something; but apart from that, silence. Butterscotch, as quietly as he could, put his shovel away with a sheepish expression and a bright blush.
“Nothing, then?” The pink pony closed his eyes and smirked with satisfaction. “Thought as much.”
“Alright. Let’s do this,” Applejack decided, if only just to get over with it. “To how many points are we playin’?”
“Whoever reaches 700 points first gets the ticket!” Phil declared.
“Seven hundred?” Butterscotch’s frowned apprehensively. “Isn’t that a bit too high?”
“Butters, trust me. With the house rules with which we’re playing this game, all you need is to get lucky once and you’re already halfway there.”
And so they began.
It was rather relaxing, actually.
Just the five of them, chilling at Phil’s bedroom on top of Sugarcube Corner, playing cards and having a drink on hoof while they chatted lively. Phil had even put some sweet sax music on the background, and its harmonious tune made the atmosphere something quite special.
It mattered none to them the fact they were down one purple unicorn, or even the quarrel that brought them all together for that sorely-needed Guys Night. All of that had been forgotten: the five stallions were living in the moment, enjoying each other’s companionship and friendship.
It was, indeed, truly magical.
“What a chill game,” Applejack noted, still ill at ease by sitting next to Rainbow Blitz.
The other stallions chorused their agreement.
“It’s a wonderful way to end the day,” Butterscotch added.
“Yeah,” Blitz said, “No fuckery or anything. Just friends having fu—”
Elusive dashed Blitz’s hopes for an early lead by throwing him a 7 and switching the pegasus’ sole remaining card for his full hoof of over twenty-five.
Blitz short-circuited and started blinking repeatedly as if having a stroke, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. “Dude, what the hay?!” he eventually managed to croak, eyes wide and heart broken.
Elusive fixated him a blank stare. “There are no friendships in Uno.”
Everything went off the rails after that.
Books books books books,
Books.
Books. Books books books books. Books books.
Books books books books books books books.
Books books books… books books books books books.
BOOKS BOOKS BOOKS!
Books books books books books books.
Books books books books books books books books books books.
Books… Books books books books books?
…
… Books books books books.
Books.
Books.
BOOKS.
Five hours in, all the pretty things were broken.
They never quite got lucky.
The music had long since faded away, as had all of their hopes and dreams, eyes bloodshot and unfocused, voices hoarse and strained, and a laughter that was more of a cry of help than an expression of joy, their souls sucked away by the endurance game that was Uno.
Applejack was certain he was starting to lose his mind.
He had yet to draw a card to continue from Phil’s blue 4, and he had already more than doubled his hoof. Until his salvation came in the form of a 7, which he used to take Butterscotch’s hoof of two cards.
The pegasus giggled in an unhinged manner as Elusive’s magic exchanged his two cards for Applejack’s sixteen.
Applejack was certain, too, that Butterscotch’s mind had been lost in the way around two hours ago when he began to repeat ‘there is no happiness, there is no joy’ over and over like a survival mantra.
The butter pegasus’s eyes were bloodshot, tiny pinpricks, his still braided mane stuck up in unnatural ways, he kept petting his tail, and spoke conspiratorially with what seemed to be either a hallucination of his pet bunny or a second identity with the same name.
“Oh, Angel, look! The Betrayer has struck again, don’t you see? Hehehehe! Just like I said he would! We have been too merciful on him, so merciful. But not anymore! Hehehehe! Not anymore! This time we’ll cut his throat while he sleeps so he won’t wake up to betray us again, won’t we, Angel? Oh yes we will, yes we will, yes we will! Hehehehehe!”
“... So is anypony else listenin’ to this?” Applejack turned to look at the other stallions.
Plainly put, they were all dead inside.
Elusive looked haggard, a small unkempt stubble somehow already large enough to be noticeable, his curly, silky mane turned into a mop of hay-like hairs. He seemed to trudge on by sheer force of caffeine, several disposable cups scattered around him.
Rainbow Blitz’s bluster and bravado had vanished, his cerise eyes vacant and staring deep into the distance, seeing without seeing. Even his mane had lost some of its colour, and he held his head upon his forehooves, all hope lost.
Phil… was Phil, really, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Indeed, it was strained and awkward, as if he just kept smiling because he simply had no idea what he’d do if he stopped. His blue eyes were shifty, shooting from one side to the other anxiously.
“A few hours ago I would have been concerned, but now…” Blitz sighed heavily, then turned his gaze towards Butterscotch. “Can’t you slit my throat first?”
The butter pegasus jumped on the spot, then gave Blitz a slasher smile. “Oh-hohoho! I’m sorry sorry sorry, but I have better plans for you! Oh, I do, oh I do, oh I do~! Hehehehehehe!”
“Cool, just fucking kill me already.”
“Butters has sure been more violent than usual,” Phil noted, leaning against Applejack and lowering his voice so only the farm stallion could listen to him. Considering the pegasus’ state, it was probably for the best. “It’s starting to get reeeeeaaaally weird.”
“Do ya reckon it has somethin’ to do with the dragon?” Applejack questioned back, reminiscing of how just last week Butterscotch, meek and feeble Butterscotch, had utterly curb-stomped a full grown dragon in a fit of rage and wrath.
“... Maybe?” Phil answered after a pause. “I mean, he clearly has some unresolved repressed trauma about the whole thing, and that isn’t easy to deal with. And if it finds a crack on the walls you’ve set up to constrain it, then it will just continue to slip through in ever-increasing doses. It’s never a one-off thing, it’s something you have to deal with constantly,” he reflected.
Applejack looked warily at Butterscotch, who was in the process of laughing insanely to Elusive’s bemusement. While his violence had yet to even come anywhere near to the one displayed that fateful day, the pegasus had begun to develop some kind of brief, fleeting wrath whenever things didn’t go his way. Phil has a point, there.
… Wait.
Phil has a point?!
“Hol’ yer horses,” Applejack’s brain demanded an explanation. “How d’ya know about that?”
The pink pony didn’t answer for five full seconds.
“... Reasons...?” Phil shrugged with indifference, but there was something shifty in his eyes that, to Applejack, seemed to tell another tale.
But before the farm pony could dig any further, blue magic engulfed all of their cards, and their hoofs all shifted clockwise. Blitz had played a 0.
Elusive sighed deeply, interrupting the flow of their torture.
“Guys? Don’t you believe that, instead of competing…” he sucked in his breath, shoving his pride down his throat, “maybe we should just ask Twilight to request the Princess four more tickets, so all six of us can go, and be freed from this martyrdom?”
“Fuck yes,” Blitz spat, throwing his cards high in the air. “I can’t take this shit anymore.”
“Oh? Is he surrendering, Angel? Is he, is he, is he? Oh! Oh-hohohohoho!” Butterscotch cackled like a maniac.
The others decided to take that as a yes from his part.
“Eeyup.” Ah’m sorry, me, but at this point Ah’ll do anythin’ an’ everythin’ to stop this trainwreck. Even abdicate mah date with the Mis—
Applejack’s brain came to a sudden halt with a deafening screech.
“They want the Bearers to attend.”
“A-all six of us?” He winced at his stutter.
“And Spike, if he wants to.”
Oh.
Oooooohhhhhh Celestia Ah’m fuckin’ braindead.
Phil protested. “But that’s what I’ve been trying to sa—!”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP, PHIL!” they all roared in unison, although Applejack’s holler was more of a squeak of shame and self-loathing than anything.
“For Celestia’s sake, you’re impossible…” Blitz grumbled facehoofing as Butterscotch devolved in another maniacal laughter and Elusive cleaned everything up with his magic.
“You guys are dicks…”
My precioussss bookssss…
We wantssss them.
We needssss them.
We requiressss them.
We.
Musssst.
Hasss.
THEEEEEE PRECIOUSSSSSSSSS!
We leeeeeeeaaaaaaaaveeeeeeeeeee.
FOR BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOKSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooookssssssssssssssssssssssssss…
The pony that used to be Twilight Sparkle slithered across the back alleys and dimly lit pathways of Ponyville, in search of her Precious.
Precioussssssssss boooooooooookssssssssssssss…
Yet, where would she find them? The library had been burnt down.
We’ll findssssss them… The precioussssss...
And then, just at the other side of the road, she saw it.
A big, gleaming book.
Of what, she didn’t care. Good or bad, it mattered none to her.
It was a book, and that was all she cared about.
And so, like a beast of prey, she pounced upon the book.
Bringing the pony that held it in his magic down with her.
“GAH! Not the face! Everywhere but the fa—! Twilight?!”
Like a rabid beast, however, the purple unicorn ignored him, furiously getting hold of the book that had fallen to the ground, and reading it through in less than five seconds.
Absorbing it.
Relishing in the words.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhh, that’s the good stuff…” she moaned in pleasure, then frowned because the book was over. She wheeled around the poor stallion, a ravenous hunger in her eyes. “YOU! BOOOOOOKSSS! MORE BOOOOOKSSSS!”
The unicorn stallion blinked. “... What the hay.”
Wait, we knows him, don’t we?
And in a flash, everything came back to her.
Her life. Her name. Her friends.
Her friends.
Among which was the utterly discombobulated white unicorn stallion in front of her, indigo mane disheveled by the mugging he had just endured, and full moustache shivering.
Twilight blinked.
“Nice moustache,” she let out without thinking.
“... Thanks,” Elusive replied dryly.
A pause.
“What was that all about, anyway?” he asked her.
“... Nothing,” she said just as dryly.
“Sure didn’t seem like nothing, my dear. You’ve got dry blood on your hooves.”
So she did. “Hmmh.”
“... You… wanna talk about it?”
“Nope,” Twilight decided. “And you? How are you still alive?”
“Wow, harsh,” Elusive quipped.
“I mean, there were an awful lot of explosions.”
“Ah. Yes,” Elusive rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “On hindsight it sounds stupid, but we were fighting a battle royale for the Gala ticket. Y’know, your spare one.”
Knew it, Twilight internally hoof-pumped.
“The fact that any of us survived is nothing short of a miracle.”
“Aren’t you exaggerating?”
“We had to tie Butterscotch up a few nights ago to stop him from slitting our throats in our sleep.”
What.
Elusive noted Twilight’s perplexity, and gave her a wry, traumatised smile. “It was a long week. We all did things we regret. And for that I want to ask for your forgiveness, Twilight. We were truly out of place, and we acted in ways unbefitting of ourselves. We pushed you, we mistreated each other, and we didn’t care for anypony but ourselves in pursuit of our selfish interests. Please pardon my Prench, but we were real assholes.”
Well, no arguments here, Twilight grumpily thought, then sighed. “Yeah, I guess you guys got a bit hectic about the ticket…” But at least you didn’t go insane in a bloodbath of a basement. Maybe. I think. She frowned. What exactly were you guys up to if you had to tie Butterscotch up so he wouldn’t murder you? “So?” she asked, feigning disinterest. “Who won the ticket, in the end?”
“Yes, well, about that… In the end, we came to the conclusion that there is no sense in fighting for our petty differences, when we can come and work together for the greater good. It’s a pity that it took us three days and five hours playing a Celestia-forsaken game of Uno to realise...” he trailed off. Twilight raised an eyebrow. Elusive’s gaze had become glassy, eyes fixated on a point in the middle distance. Note to self, inquire about that game.
Elusive didn’t resume talking, getting lost in his memories. Reliving them. Unable to escape.
Twilight coughed.
“Oh!” Elusive snapped out of it. “Well, we wanted to ask you if you could ask for the Princess for four extra tickets. We all very much wish to attend the Gala, but it’s not worth fighting or losing valuable friendships over, nor do we wish to impose a choice upon you.”
Twilight shot him a withering glare. “Oh! So you mean you eventually decided to do the exact same thing I said I WAS GOING TO DO?!” She was suddenly shouting.
“Wait, really?” Elusive frowned, befuddled. “But Twilight, then why didn’t you say so?”
“I DID!!” she exclaimed desperately. “REPEATEDLY!!”
Elusive blinked blankly, then a blush crept upon his face as he realised his folly. He chuckled awkwardly in shame. “Oh, my. I’m terribly sorry, Twilight! Please, let me make it up to you.”
Twilight wanted to strangle the unicorn in front of her, him and his stupid new-grown moustache. She wanted nothing more but to repay the psychological suffering he, in his short-sightedness, imposed upon her. And then she would hunt the rest of the guys to reap her vengeance.
Until he said the magic words and all her wrath melted like a puddle in the desert.
“I’ll buy you lunch! My treat.”
On cue, Twilight’s stomach roared like a buffalo stampede.
She took a deep sigh as she made her decision. “Okay. Alright. BUT! You guys are so writing my friendship report to the Princess this week.” Besides, they are the ones who learnt something about friendship, I was too busy losing my mind.
Elusive grinned sheepishly. “It’s the least we could do, my dear”
And so they left, course set upon Hayburger.
Only halfway there Twilight realised something. Something of unparalleled importance, should they continue down this road.
“Wait, where’s Spike?”
Elusive blanked.
“I haven’t the slightest idea.”
“... So how are we supposed to write to the Princess, then?”
Her answer came to meet her just a few steps away with a grin.
“Twilight! This one here’s for you!” Derpy cheerfully greeted her, handing her a thick package with a pink six-pointed star on a purple shield, three smaller stars on top.
“Oh! Thank you so much!” Finally Shining had gotten around to sending her the military history books she had asked him for weeks ago. Then she frowned. “Wait, I thought the post office was still shut down…”
“Ah, we opened a new temporary office a few buildings down the road. The show must go on, eh?” the mare chuckled half-heartedly.
Well, that explains the cap. Derpy was wearing her wearing her mailmare duffel bag and blue cap and accompanied by a good-looking stallion. Probably one of the Post Office’s new crew members.
Elusive addressed the stallion. “Say, I haven’t seen you before around here. Are you new to town?”
“Why, yes. Only got here last week. Strange little town,” he smiled pleasantly. “Seems just like my kind of place.”
Elusive smiled wearily. “I’d like to see you say that in a few weeks’ time.”
The stallion chuckled, then nodded his farewell, following Derpy as she left, heading towards her next target.
Twilight turned towards Elusive. “Well, post office it is, I guess. Seriously, where did Spike go to?”
Dear Princess Celestia:
This week, my friends learned a very valuable lesson on friendship.
I know, I know, I’m the one who’s studying the magic of friendship, but there was very little I could learn while bunkered down in a basement for five days waiting out the apocalypse.
Long story.
Attached to this letter is their report.
With love, your faithful student,
Twilight Sparkle, MPhil.
Bearer of the Element of Magic.
My dearest and most faithful student:
You passed the test I had envisioned, just as I knew you would.
You see, I decided to test the strength of your bond with your friends, and the bonds between them, by putting you all under pressure, so I deliberately sent you the wrong tickets, and only two of them. It might have taken some time, but in the end, you all decided that your friendship was valuable, that fighting over a ticket wasn’t worth it, that one of the joys of friendship is sharing, and last but not least, that when you win at the expense of your friends, you’ve lost what truly matters. You succeed together, or not at all.
Indeed, as I wrote previously, you six are all invited to the Grand Galloping Gala! Attached to this letter are all six of the tickets, each with their respective names. Please do not misplace them.
And in case you were wondering; the chef is okay. Artemis never sent anypony to the executioner. It was all part of the ruse.
Also, please try not to destroy Ponyville anymore. Rebuilding isn’t free, you know.
With love,
Princess Celestia.
P.S: Off the record, and between you and me, I think that maybe they are the ones who need to learn a bit more about friendship. They are good ponies, and clearly care for each other, but based on what they wrote, they seriously have no idea how to show it without being jerks about it!
“And thus the most great Princess Sovereign Celestia of Equestria maketh amends for her mistakes. Lo and behold.”
“Oh, and what do you want me to do? Tell the truth? Admit I totally messed everything up because I wasn’t paying attention?”
“... Yes.”
“Artemis, I was being sarcastic. You know I can’t do that. Their faith on me would come crashing down if they realised I’m just as fallible as anypony else!”
“Oh, woe is me!” Artemis said with a theatrical flourish. The sarcasm was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. “What of poor Equestria, should such a fate befall upon us all?”
“Shut up, you. And speaking of mistakes, if I recall correctly, you’re the one who sent a pony to be beheaded for no reason whatsoever!”
“Mista—?!” he stammered. “What dost thou mean? ‘Mistake’ it was not! He attempted to poison me! Methinks that is a reasonable reason!”
“But you didn’t have to kill him! You could have just sent him to the dungeons! Do you know what a headache covering this thing up is going to be?!”
“Sending an attempted regicide to the dungeons? Preposterous! He ought to be grateful I merely cut off his head! Back in the days, we would have had him hanged, drawn, emasculated, eviscerated, quartered and his head stuck on a pike for such acts of treason!”
“By The Allfather’s sake, it was just maple syrup! It’s called modern cuisine, Artemis! Are you seriously expecting the culinary arts to remain the same for over a thousand years?!”
“Art thou telling me that accursed ooze was intended to be edible?! It tasted like shite!”
“Oh, and you know what shit tastes like?”
“In truth, I do.”
“... How.”
“Thine faith put in me, sister, thou desirest not to know.”
“... No, I do. I really do.”
“Wash not thy teeth for a thousand years.”
“Yuck.”
“Yes, indeed. Praised be The Allfather that the Elements of Harmony cleansed not only The Abyss, but my mouth as well. Tasted like fresh mint, if the truth thou desirest.”
“For what it’s worth, brother, I’m terribly sorry I had to banish you to the moon.”
“And I am terribly sorry, sister dearest, that I forced thy hoof into doing so.”
“I’m glad you’re back.”
“So am I. So am I.”
“How was it? Living in the moon for a thousand years in isolation, I mean.”
“There is no pizza on the moon.” Artemis’ voice was as dry as a desert. His sister winced.
“Perhaps I should have just killed you instead…”
“A more merciful fate indeed. I can not think of more tedious a thing. I had nary a pass-time but counting rocks.”
“Just counting rocks? Not even making a bonfire and singing at night while your guitar gently wept?”
“How pretendest thou I produced a bonfire? There is no oxygen on the moon, ‘Tia.”
“Oh.” A beat of silence. “I knew that.”
“Also I had not a guitar on my person when thou banished me, thus thy proposition would have not been possible. And rocks and dust make not for an appropriate replacement for wood and string. The sound reminded me of Discord and his idea of ‘music’.”
“How are you still sane?”
“I was fortunate to be already insane. The tediousness affected me little.”
“But surely you must have found a hobby…”
“Shooting down xenomorph ships was most entertaining, but they appeared not thrice a decade. The latest one managed to evade me some seven years ago. Alas, I was having a most miserable day.”
“... Wait, what did you just say?” Celestia squeaked.
“‘Tis nothing thou shouldst mind, sister dearest. Returning to the matter of pizza, can we get some for supper? I really miss pizza… and I desire to know whether they survived this ‘modern cuisine’ thou spake of.”
“Artemis, we’re the sovereign God-Emperors of Equestria. Our mere whims dictate the course of pony history. You bet your cutie mark we can get some pizza.”
“So please thou, with some pineapple; I have wished for nary a thing but a taste of those ever since I came back and learnt of their existence.”
“... Seriously? Seriously?! And you’re calling maple syrup poison?! Our father did not bequeath his throne for us to eat pineapple pizza!”
“But sister!”
“No ‘buts’! Trust your big sister on this, it’s for your own good.”
“‘Big sister’? Thou art aware our birthing was an arcane anomaly, art not thou? We were quite literally brought into existence at the exact same time.”
“Well, yes, but I’m the most mature.”
The eye-roll was audible. “So thou claimest, yet of this I have seen no evidence.”
“I have ruled Equestria for over a millennia. I’m the senior ruler for a reason, you know.”
“... Because thou banished me to the moon for most of said millennia, mayhaps?”
Celestia tsked. “And I won’t hesitate to do it again if you keep annoying me during my free hours.”
“Ah, but then what would I do during thine ‘free hours’?”
“Gee, I don’t know, the royal duties you’re supposed to be doing right now, perhaps?!”
“Do I get to behead the worthless scum?”
“We’ve been over this, Artemis. They’re called nobleponies. You can’t keep calling them ‘worthless scum’.”
“But they are worthless scum!”
“Yes they are, but we do not say that to their faces!”
“What is the point, then, in being God-Emperors of Equestria if we cannot dispose freely of their lives whenever we so desire?”
“I wonder the same thing every night.” Her voice was wistful. “Still, the answer is no, you can’t behead them.”
“How tedious. It would be more entertaining.”
She sighed heavily. “... I missed you, brother,” she said fondly.
He smiled warmly. “I missed thee too, sister.”
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Just like most of the all-guys friendships, the Mane Five’s friendship runs on With Friends Like These and Comedic Sociopathy, as they're all Vitriolic Best Buds... But when push comes to shove, they always come through for each other... Eventually.
As Celestia pointed out, Twilight is not the only pony who needs to learn about friendship.
And yeah, the last competitions were rushed, but mostly because we realised, by the moment we finished Elusive's, that it would get too formulaic if we did all five of them. Use your imagination to fill the gaps!
Oh, and in case it wasn't obvious, Celestia's letter was her lying out of her ass. She absolutely fucked up.
REALLY good job on this latest chapter. Twi's mental breakdown over the "tickets mess", the guys' ever-increasing competition over that ticket and Celestia and Artemis's dialogue toward the end ALL had good mixes of funny stuff and serious stuff. And, yeah, Celestia DOES have a point about how Twilight's male friends need the friendship lessons as much as she does (if not even more so). So, in a way, this could be considered "Lesson Zero" happening MONTHS sooner than in canon.
Anyway, wonderful job on the exchanges, characterizations, humor, action, general "episode" wrap-up and future chapter set-up in all the right places.
I had some horrible flashbacks when that line was said...
.
Don’t need to tell me twice.
I’m really enjoyed this chapter, seeing Twilight slowly go insane was a ton of fun. I know it says that the Romance is gunna take a back seat but I hope it doesn’t truly go away, I really like the Twilight in this. How shes more of the flirty one enjoy a bit of the attention from the boys while also just enjoying the friendship she’s made with them. , as opposed to every other fic in this scenarios where it’s all mane 5 want bang Twilight/Dusk and they’re oblivious or just don’t care about his/her feels.