Ponies Don't Wear Shorts

by kits

Warpastry 40k - Yes, it's as dumb as it sounds

Author's Note:

This scrap predates fimfiction. It's so season 1 it hurts.

As you can tell, this is a bit of an absurd take on a bafflingly popular 2011 trope. W40K and MLP. I seriously do not get it at all. But I was tired of reading them and spite drove me. Then it petered out before I could finish. I still se mention of 40k crossovers today, but I'm either less annoyed by them or there really were a lot more back in '11. IDK.

Fresh snow crunched under her purple hooves. Fresh, white snow. The alabaster crispness would run red with the spilled innards of countless cherry turnovers and the slick wetness of half-baked pies before day's end, but for now it gleamed with an immaculate cleanliness matched only but the purity of her purpose.

Twilight's stride was slightly hampered by the straight legged sleeves her position demanded of her. The black fabric was stiff, but held the creases pressed into it with remarkable ease. The overcoat buttoned up her chest with two rows of small discs of gleaming brass. Twin oversized lapels framed her normally slender shoulders, pink six pointed stars stitched into the fabric declared her rank for the assembled ponies. A cape, divided at the dock to allow her tail freedom, lay across her back covering her flanks. The black material gleamed in the morning light. Her head, alone amongst the assembled ponies, was uncovered, her mane waving gently in the slight breeze.

"Is everypony ready?" Comma– no, Commissar Sparkle asked as she paced in front of the formation of her friends and neighbors. Her voice was muted, but her magic carried it to every one of the assembled ponies. She was glad of the spell, too much shouting in such cold weather wasn't good for anypony's throat.

Nopony said a word, which was fine since she wasn't really asking them anything. They had been drilling for the past week and everypony was as ready as they were going to get. Still, some formalities, like good jam, had to be preserved, and what pony could turn down the opportunity for a speech?

Coming to a stop in front of the center of the formation, she clicked her hooves together and pivoted to face the assembled ranks. She kept her features schooled except for a slight widening of her lavender eyes. It was the first time she had actually looked at the assembled ponies and really taken the view in. They stood in well ordered ranks, unmoving. Row upon row, file upon file. And they were quiet. The uniforms Rarity had provided masked what should have been a riot of pastel colors. This combined with the unnatural order of the gathering and the lack of casual conversation sent chills down Twilight's withers. With their manes tucked into helmets and their tails obscured with strips of cloth, she was facing an army of clones, each identical except for the hue of their eyes. Eyes which bored into her as she stalled for time. Despite the hackle-raising similarity and lack of variety, she was able to pick some ponies out of the crowd.

Front and center was Applejack. The orange pony's trademark cowpony hat standing out against a sea of evergreen vests and helmets. The red apple emblazoned on her chest, a symbol of her rank and position as an Element of Harmony, marked her as a commander for any who were confused or hadn't been paying attention. Her second in command stood next to her, the smiling sunflower looking even more out of place than Applejack's own adornment. Cheerilee had pulled her scarf over her face already and without the personalized rank emblem, Twilight would have been hard pressed to put a name to those green eyes. Many ponies already wore their scarves over their muzzles, the small puffs of white accompanying each breath a testament to the chill.

Despite her own heavy overcoat, Twilight shivered. She should never have let Rarity talk her into that last clip. True it was stylish and it made her look absolutely great, but her winter coat had never been as thick as most others. Still, even Rainbow Dash had complemented her and Pinkie had said she looked "hot to trot", Twilight wasn't quite sure what that meant, but she was sure it was nice. She stomped on that line of thought before her blush became too obvious to blame on the cold.

The Appleguard, the infantry. The largest contingent present and the backbone of Ponyville's might. Without this legion of strong backs and able hooves, the pegasus scouts would have nopony to fall back to when they exhausted their meager supplies. Without these stalwart ponies, her unicorn brethren—that was the word the books all used, right?—would find themselves exhausted and quickly overrun. She could think of none better to lead the this keystone of her army than Ponyville's most reliable pony.

Twilight cleared her throat, buying herself a few more precious seconds. She had wanted to prepare note cards for this occasion, but Rarity had cautioned her that it would have a much less emotional impact if she appeared to be reading her inspirational speech. Rainbow had simply told her that cards weren't cool enough. Between the two of them they had pestered her until she had relented. Twilight wished she had been stronger willed.

"My fellow Equestrians," Twilight began. "Today it falls to us to defend Ponyville." The pressure from so many eyes was too much. She turned and began to pace in front of the ranks. "You know what is at stake, what we fight for today. Today the 7th Griffon begins their assault to take from us what is ours. This, I will not have. Today we battle for glory, for Ponyville, for all of Equestria." She hazarded a glance at her soldiers, she was in front of the flight teams now, almost squarely in front of Rainbow Dash. Not even Rarity's considerable skills at camouflage could completely hide those multi-chromatic locks.

The chill wind gusted, ruffling a few locks of red and orange hair that stuck out from beneath her helmet. Other than her wings and face, the pegasus was devoid of color, she had yet to don her rank markings, a red lightning bolt. Twilight wondered if she had forgotten or had just decided to avoid wearing it for the speech. They were somewhat difficult to put on without help. Rainbow had probably decided to sleep in until it was too late to ask a fellow flier for assistance.

"But mostly we fight for that triple-layered, chocolate-carrot cake." Twilight turned to face her troops, her eyes narrowing. She stomped a hoof into the ground, the snow deadening the dramatic thump she had been hoping for. "I want that cake. It's looks incredibly delicious. It may be the most delicious cake I have seen come from within the hallowed halls of the, um, the Caketorium." Caketorium? Seriously? Twilight really wished she had kept her notes, talking like a general out of some fantasy novel was hard. So many overly dramatic made up words for common everyday things, it was hard to keep them all straight.

Rainbow Dash saluted, a moment later the quiet rustling of fabric broke the silence as her corps of scouts followed suite. Rarity had given all of the fliers mottled light on dark gray patterned vests and stockings. The clothing was loose and shapeless, it hung like sacks several sizes too large. While Rarity would normally bemoan such ill-fitting garments, she had insisted that the fit was proper and necessary to allow the fliers to blend into the open sky. It was eerily like staring at an army of ghosts. Once Dash covered her muzzle with the provided scarf and her rose colored eyes with her flight goggles, only her blue wings and patches of her rainbow tail would be visible against the cloudy sky. Heavy with the promise of snow, the weather favored the defenders, just the way they had planned it. The brown and white Griffon army would be visible for miles while their own fliers would be hard to spot as long as they kept the clouds to their backs.

Hiding behind the leader of the Stormbolts¹—Rainbow had insisted on the name—lurked the ill-suited second in command, Fluttershy. While Dash had been literally flipped when she had been put in charge of the mobile leg of their defense force, Fluttershy had tried to huddle into a tiny ball and disappear. The leaders had been chosen by popular vote and plenty of ponies still remembered her from her modeling career. Her recent performance as Private Pansy, the pegasus responsible for helping bring harmony to Equestria, had certainly not helped her avoid election. The yellow pegasus either hadn't wanted to disappoint anypony or simply lacked the social wherewithal to say no. Probably both. As Twilight's eyes passed over her, she ducked her head in a effort to hide behind her flowing pink mane, forgetting in her nervousness that it had been tied back and hidden inside of her soft, shapeless hat. Finding no cover, she stared at her hooves as she fumbled a bit of snow between them causing light to glint off of the pink butterfly pinned to her cap.

---

¹: It was a dramatic improvement on what her texts had wanted to call them. Adeptus Volatus, stupid made up language.

---

Commissar Sparkle turned once more and returned to her slow pacing. "But not only is our cake at stake. No, as unbelievable as it may seem, we have greater– equally great concerns." Lying simply wouldn't do. She pivoted, one hoof jabbed dramatically towards Canterlot Castle, barely visible in the distance. "With our capital besieged and the fall of Manehattan, we are Equestria's greatest hope against the tide of beak and claw. If we do not hold, the feathered menace will be able to bring their full might to bear on our beloved Princesses."

Muttering rose from among the ranks. Twilight would have silenced them with a sharp glance, her role demanded it from her, but she was frantically trying to remember what part came next. It was like a test she hadn't been allowed to study for. Blasted Rarity, insisting she do this by rote.

The object or her ire was currently on the walkway surrounding their 'headquarters'. Twilight's initial plans, and indeed all tradition, had called for the town center to be declared their 'monastery'. What monks had to do with anything she still hadn't found out. Stupid fake words. She had planned on using it, but the mayor had objected, they had just finished repairing the building. Twilight had relented, but that left them needing a new headquarters, she refused to use those silly, ill-fitting names in the privacy of her own head. The mare had suggested the library, but Twilight wasn't about to let a hoard of screaming griffons assault her precious books with blueberry cobbler, raspberry tarts, and Celestia knew what other pastries of mass destruction. No pony had wanted their business or homes to suffer the wrath of battle either. One by one, every structure in Ponyville had been discarded until they were left with this. Applejack's one-time home-away-from-home, the meeting room for the Rainbow Dash fan club, the Cutie Mark Crusader's club house in Whitetail woods.

Rarity and the rest of the unicorns who had sufficient talent were cloaked in tight fitting, dark red vests. Unlike the Appleguard or the Stormbolts, the SPIFFYTROUSERSBRIGADE had no need to blend into terrain. They would rely less on evasion and hiding and more on their own telekinetic abilities to keep their coats unstained. Twilight would have been among their number had either the Mayor's, Rainbow Dash's, or Apple Bloom's bid for Commissar succeeded. Rarity wore her diamond insignia on a long strand of similar, but smaller, diamonds, threaded throughout her luxurious mane. Noting Twilight's gaze lingering on her, she tossed her head sending her locks bounding causing a riot of sparkles to gleam across her mane.

Twilight needed to end this and soon. Never had she thought she'd be so lost without her notes. What she would give for a simple checklist of topics. She had one of course, back in her study. She raised her voice. "So know, not only do we battle for Ponyville, not only do we battle for cake, but we battle for the very honor of the Princesses! For the honor of Equestria!" Scattered cheering rose from the assembled ponies. "Until the last pie is hurled and the last tart is thrown, we shall not relent." More shouting this time. Her book, How to Win Friends and Incite them to Pie-lust, had certainly been correct about the importance of over-dramatization. "Though our foes out number us, we shall prevail!" Most of the ponies present were cheering her words. "The Princesses' will guides us and we shall not falter!" The cheering rose to near deafening levels.

Twilight's pupils narrowed and despite the crisp, cool winter air, her forehead became damp with sweat. What was that final line? She tried to picture the note cards in her mind. "My fellow Equestrians," no that was the start. Mentally she flipped forward several dozen cards and frantically tried to read from memory. "Caketorium," GAH! It was their fault she couldn't remember her closing lines. Them, those not-words. Those bit of faux-unicorian that made no sense had robbed her of precious mental storage for real words. Words that mattered. Words with a purpose.

"Come on Twilight, you can do this," she hissed under her breath. "Think. What could Commissar Candycane have said?" She mentally flipped open the book, turning pages in her mind. So many were blank or held but a single memorable phrase that was legible, fiction had never stuck with her the same way references had. She stopped when she came to a page covered in words, Candycane's speech to his beleaguered troops and conscripts. She zeroed in on his final words. She drew in her breath, she would need to summon the raw, primal fury of a true shout, not merely a magically amplified voice.

"For the herd!" Her cry was echoed by the assembled throng.

"For the Princesses!" Cries of 'for Luna' and 'for Celestia' reverberated through the clearing.

"For the cake!"

Echoes of "cake" rebounded off of the fresh, white snow.

Comments

[PresentPerfect]

11730801
what a joik :V