> A Darker Shade of Pink
>  by FanOfMostEverything
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Mysteries in Magenta and Mulberry
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was setting as Twilight Sparkle entered Sugarcube Corner. She was a princess as of about a month ago, though she wore no adornment but bandages wrapped around one hoof.

Pinkie Pie beamed at her from the cash register, waving at Twilight though she was the only other pony there. "Hi, Twilight! The Cakes are letting me close up today so they can take the twins out for a walk. It's almost time, but I'll be happy to get you something."

Twilight smiled. "That won't be necessary, Pinkie, but there is something you can help me with."

Pinkie tilted her head. "Like a 'special order' something, a 'friendship problem' something, or a 'grab the Elements and save the day' something?"

"Um, none of those, actually." Twilight smirked. "Though it says a lot that those are all entirely reasonable guesses. Anyway, when I ascended to alicornhood, I realized that I was now able to use and experience the magic of every tribe firsthoof."

Pinkie gasped and leaned over the counter. "Even bat ponies?"

Twilight blinked and opened her mouth a few times. "You know, I'm actually not sure. I'm going to have to ask Luna. And you really should call them chiroptera."

She shook her head clear of the digression. "Anyway, I barely did any research on non-unicorn magic when I couldn't use it. Even after I moved to Ponyville, there was still so much that I could actually cast left to explore. But now I don't have that excuse. What I do have is a better source than books."

Pinkie's jaw fell open. "Twilight Sparkle thinks something's better than books?" She grinned. "Is it edible?"

Twilight shook her head. "I mean experience. What better way to use this new opportunity than to learn from the ponies who have already taught me so much?"

"Well if we're talking about ponies, then technically..." Pinkie trailed off as she noticed Twilight staring at her, aghast. "Sorry, that one sounded better in my head."

"Moving on, I've flown with Rainbow Dash, sewn with Rarity, cared for animals with Fluttershy—"

"And today you applebucked with Applejack!" Pinkie proclaimed.

"Well... yes," said Twilight. "How did you know that was today?"

"Well, I wasn't going to say anything, but..." Pinkie waved Twilight closer, leaned in, and said in a hoarse stage whisper, "You kind of smell."

Twilight flushed. "Oh. Yeah. I hadn't taken that into account." Her horn lit up, and a dot of magic appeared on the tip of her nose, growing into a loop as it slowly swept across her body. She shook her head. "Ugh, I haven't resorted to Curry Comb's Quick Cleansing since the Academy. Sorry, Pinkie, I'm just so excited about how much I'm learning that I couldn't wait to arrange something with you."

"It could be worse. Imagine how Rarity would react!" Pinkie put a hoof to her chin. "Actually, why did you even go to Rarity? I mean, spending time with friends is always fun, but you've been a unicorn all your life."

Twilight turned even redder as her gaze slipped towards the floor. "Refinement. Rarity's magical dexterity has always been better than mine. I could barely get a few animals off the ground at the same time. She's so good at multitasking that she's a one-mare garment factory when she wants to be. My magic's gotten stronger since I ascended, but it's also gotten harder to control. Rarity's help has been invaluable." She perked back up and held up her bandaged hoof. "And as I said, she's also been teaching me to sew!"

"So," said Pinkie, her eyes half-lidded, "that just leaves me."

"I don't want you to think I was leaving you out!" Twilight cried. "If anything, I've been saving the most intriguing for last. I mean, I'll obviously be coming back to each of you; this is just a preliminary—"

Pinkie held up a hoof and laughed. "I didn't mean anything mean, Twilight! So, when did you want your first lesson in Pinkieology 101?"

Twilight smiled. "Oh, you're a 300-level course at least, Pinkie. As for when, as soon as possible. Applejack really opened my eyes today. Earth pony magic is a much richer topic than I'd ever suspected, and that's for something as seemingly mundane as farming!" She paused and gulped. "Don't tell her I said that."

"Don't tell her you said what?" Pinkie winked.

"Thanks. Anyway, that's from Applejack, the last pony anypony would think of as magical." She noted Pinkie raising an eyebrow. "She said it herself when we were scheduling today's work."

"Just didn't think you'd like sticking a second hoof in your mouth."

Twilight dipped her head. "Thanks. Anyway, then there's you. I'd given up on ever understanding how you work after the Pinkie Sense debacle, but I think that having earth pony magic of my own will be the key I was missing until now."

"ASAP, eh?" Pinkie looked off to the side, muttering dates and times under her breath for a moment. "Yeah, I can work with that." She turned back. "Why don't you come up to my room during lunch tomorrow?"

"Your room?" Twilight frowned. "Um, Pinkie, it's my understanding that earth pony magic is generally a constant, passive force."

Pinkie nodded. "Uh huh."

"One best expressed by performing everyday activities."

Pinkie nodded. "Uh huh."

Twilight looked into that impenetrable grin long enough to feel something other than eyes looking back. "Well," she finally said, "given that, I was hoping to help you bake or throw a party. Going by today, this will work best if we can either work together or have you practice your special talent."

"Well..." Pinkie tapped her hooves together a few time, her smile growing rather forced. "The thing is, I would be happy to have you as a baking buddy or party pal, but there are a few itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, tiny-finey, enormous problems with that.

"One, party ponies aren't born. We're made." Pinkie glared, pounding a hoof in time with her words. "It takes years of blood, sweat, tears, and not getting any of them into the cake batter." She drew herself up, her mouth a firm line. "Ponyville has come to expect a certain level of party proficiency and, well, I just don't think it'll work out. If it were just us world-saving girls, then sure, but not for anything upcoming."

Twilight gave the best smile she could to those proceedings. She could feel the awkwardness on her lips. "Well, I suppose you are the party professional here. What about helping you and the Cakes?"

Pinkie shook her head. "Not to put too fine a point on it, Twilight, but you're kind of a princess now."

Twilight shrugged her wings. "So? Nopony treats me any differently. I think most of Ponyville is still waiting for the next shoe to drop."

"Yeah, because you still act like you. Ponies don't expect Twilight Sparkle to serve them cupcakes, and that's when their brains'll go, 'Oh, and she's an alicorn, too.' And that's when they'll finally go," Pinkie sprang into the air and gasped like when she first met Twilight. "Then the bowing and scraping and everything else you'd hate. Imagine if you came in here and saw Princess Celestia where I am."

The mental image made Twilight blanch. "Do you think—" She her tongue before she could say, "there would be any survivors?" She tried again. "Do you think something like that will happen?"

Pinkie nodded. "First lesson of Pinkieology: I may not have a passychology degree—"

"Psychology," Twilight said automatically.

"Told you I didn't have one. But a talent for making ponies happy gives you a sense for how they think." Pinkie gave a nervous chuckle. "Of course, that doesn't always work for griffons, donkeys, sleepy dragons... well, you get the idea."

Twilight nodded. "I think so, though I wish I had a notepad right now. Applejack said she'd compost it if I brought one to Sweet Apple Acres. What else?"

"Well, how do I put this nicely?" Pinkie paused for a moment, then shook her head. "Nope, I got nothing. You can't be trusted with making anything more complicated than a sandwich."

"What!?" Twilight's wings sprang open. She glared at them.

"Well," said Pinkie, "anything edible. You're good at making all kinds of complicated magical things, but we don't serve any of those."

"I am not that bad a cook!" There was another soft pomf. "Stupid deimatic behavior!"

"So you're saying Spike just does all your cooking because he likes frilly aprons?" Pinkie nodded. "Knew it."

Twilight sighed and managed to fold her wings. "I'm already imposing on your time. Eating up your lunch break for a sub-optimal learning environment—"

Pinkie waved away the concern with a forehoof. "Lunch breaks are made to be eaten, and you're not imposing unless I say so, which I don't. Trust me, you'll learn all kinds of stuff in my room. And since I soundproofed my room so I can throw parties without disturbing the Cakes, noisy ponies downstairs won't distract you." She winked. "And they won't hear you if something explodes. It's really good soundproofing."

"Well, if you're sure." Twilight smiled. "A bit after one? I don't want to take you away from the lunch rush."

"One sounds great!" Pinkie's gaze flicked towards the wall clock. "But now it's closing time. See you tomorrow, Twilight!"

In the space of a blink, Twilight found herself on the Corner's stoop, looking at a "Closed" sign in front of the door. She gave the door a nudge with her magic and found it locked. She moved to one of the windows. The store looked like it had been closed for hours: chairs were on tables, the display case was dark and empty, and there wasn't a trace of Pinkie Pie.

Twilight considered this for a moment, then smiled. "Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I'll finally get some answers."

Pinkie paced about her room. "Less than a day, Gummy. We have less than a day before it all comes crashing down around our heads. You're the one with all the ideas; get to thinking."

Gummy gave a hollow rattle and pounced on a bedpost.

Pinkie stopped in mid-step. "That may just work." She glared and stomped a hoof. "I'll make it work."

As Twilight had planned, there weren't many ponies in Sugarcube Corner when she returned. The late lunchers paid her little mind. She found herself wondering how they'd react with her on the other side of the counter, then realized she was already applying her first lesson. It was all she could do to keep herself from prancing in place. She was going to learn so much! And this time, she'd be able to take notes! So many notes.

"Hiya, Twilight!" Pinkie stood at the foot of the staircase, looking as happy as Twilight felt. "Ready to get started?"

"Am I!"

"Yeah, are you? Kind of why I asked." Pinkie kept a straight face for less than a second. "Sorry. Couldn't resist. Come on! I arranged something special for you!"

"Special?" Twilight shook her head. "No, Pinkie, establishing the basics is an essential first step to the learning process. That's the whole reason why I couldn't just help you throw a party."

Pinkie just maintained her smile. "Trust me, Twilight, you're gonna love this!" With that, she bounced up the stairs.

After a moment, Twilight shrugged her wings and followed her.

Pinkie's room was largely as Twilight remembered it, but there were a few new additions. The bed had been moved to one side to make room for a low table set with three cushions. Pinkie was seated on one and a purplish-pink mare lay on another. The second mare stood, smiled, and bowed as Twilight entered the room. "Your Highness."

Twilight squirmed. "Please, get up, Ms. Punch. I don't think I'll ever be comfortable with ponies bowing to me. And call me Twilight."

Berry Punch sat back down. "Gladly, as long as you call me Berry."

"Certainly." Twilight took the remaining cushion and looked from one mare to the other. "Now, please don't take this the wrong way, Berry, but... well, what are you doing here?"

"Pinkie asked me to come."

Pinkie nodded. "Uh huh. I mean, I know everypony in Ponyville, and that means a lot of earth ponies. So I thought to myself, 'Self, we could show Twilight all kinds of neat earth pony magic. We should totally do that. Also, these cupcakes would go great with lemon frosting.' And after I frosted the cupcakes, I asked a pony whose skills I knew you'd want to see to strut her stuff!"

"That would be me," added Berry.

"I gathered that much." Twilight scrunched her muzzle as she thought. "I don't want to sound rude here, but I was really hoping I could spend time with Pinkie. I'm sure your talents are very impressive, Ms—sorry, Berry, but now that my magic has an earth aspect to it, I was hoping it would help me understand Pinkie's abilities."

Berry nodded. "Understandable. If I may make a proposal?"

"Go ahead," said Twilight.

"I have a demonstration ready. It should take a few minutes at most. Give me a little time, ask whatever questions you'd like, and you can have the rest of the day with Pinkie."

"Well... I suppose I could always use more information. The more ponies I learn from, the easier it is to process that this actually happened." Twilight chuckled. "It still seems strange at times. Me, a princess. Horn and wings and a magic that's much more versatile than I ever would've imagined. The more I learn about what earth ponies can do, do do on a daily basis, the more astonished I become."

Berry nodded. "Most magic researchers are unicorns, right? They're going to focus on what their horns can do first." She ducked under the table.

"That was my excuse, sure, but that focus has caused..." Twilight trailed off as Berry pulled a plate out from under the table and onto the table. "Grapes?"

"Try one."

Twilight quirked an eyebrow and popped a grape into her mouth with her magic. She chewed, eyes on Berry Punch the whole time. Finally, she swallowed. "It tastes like a grape."

Berry smiled. "Well, I'd be concerned if it didn't." She placed a hoof on another grape and shut her eyes. "Just a moment."

Twilight blinked. "I... I can tell you're doing something, but I'm not sure what, or even how."

"Really?" Berry put her hoof back down. "That's not exactly common."

Pinkie beamed and bounced in place. "What's it feel like?"

"I can't really describe it. A whisper, a faint scent, a tingle in my hooves... I felt something like it a few times at Sweet Apple Acres yesterday, but those were brief flashes." Twilight gazed wide-eyed at the grapes, as though they were the first she'd ever seen. "What did you do?"

"Try the one I touched," said Berry.

Slowly, almost reverentially, Twilight pulled it off of the bunch. "There's nothing interfering with my telekinesis, but I know there's something magical here." The grape went in her mouth, and her eyes bugged out a moment later. "This grape is full of wine."

Berry nodded.

"Rather good wine, and I don't drink that often."

"Thank you. I do try." Berry polished her hoof on her chest.

"How did you do this? I know the Apples do something similar when they press cider, but it's not the season for it yet, and Applejack insisted on waiting until then."

"Well—"

"Earth ponies are natural necromancers!" cried Pinkie.

The room went silent. Pinkie smiled. Twilight gaped. Berry had her face buried in her frogs.

Twilight broke the silence first. "Ne-ne-ne..."

"Pinkie?"

"Yes, Berry?"

"What did I tell you when I agreed to do this?"

"Don't say the N word."

"And what did you just do?"

Pinkie gasped. "Oh, you meant that N word. I thought you meant Neufchâtel. You know, because other cheeses would go better with the wine you made."

"Necromancy!?" Twilight blurted. "Blunted, blighted, feathering necromancy!?"

"Ooh, bad words, but nicely pantribal use of them."

"Not helping, Pinkie." Berry sighed. "Yes, technically speaking, what I did is a form of necromancy. Fermentation is a form of rot, after all. With my talent, it's easy to coax plant sugars into more adult chemicals."

Pinkie nodded. "Berry's one of Ponyville's best when it comes to applied earth magic!"

"Not the best, though," said Berry. "If you want to see really impressive tricks done with sugar, you should talk to Bonbon."

"But necromancy—"

Berry shook her head. "And this is why I said not to say the N word. Unicorns just shut down when they hear it."

"But it's like I said," Pinkie protested, pouting, "this is natural necromancy!"

Twilight snorted. "What could possibly be natural about necromancy?"

"If you're making zombie ponies, nothing. But." Berry held up a hoof as Twilight opened her mouth. "If you're speeding up a process that would happen anyway? That's no different than a lot of earth pony magic. As you yourself noted, the Apples do something similar come cider season."

Twilight was silent for some time, her face twisting through scowls, shudders, and distant looks. Finally, she said, "Pinkie, just what are you hiding from me?"

Pinkie blinked, then looked around, as if the question had been addressed to some other Pinkie in the room. "Me? Hiding something?"

"You would rather show me necromancy than your personal abilities. What could possibly be so bad that death magic is the preferable alternative?"

"Well, ouch," said Berry.

Twilight didn't turn away from Pinkie. In a carefully measured voice, she said, "I am grateful for your demonstration, Ms. Punch, but I think this should be a private conversation."

Berry nodded. "If it's going to go the way I think it will, Your Highness, then you're right." She rose and walked to the door. "Enjoy the grapes. Try experimenting with a few if you like."

"You don't have to go, Berry!" cried Pinkie.

"I don't have to, no. But I should." Berry turned to Twilight. "She really does have your best interests in mind."

"It's just information," said Twilight. "Just knowing something can't hurt."

Berry gave her a flat look. "Really? Even when you found out the secret to fast fermentation?" Twilight flinched at that, and Berry left the room before she could answer.

"You really don't know what you're asking for, Twilight." Pinkie had wilted, her head resting on the table and her eyes downcast.

"That's exactly why I'm asking!"

"I know." Pinkie sighed. "You're Twilight Sparkle, and it's something about magic you don't understand. It'll take a hydra to change your mind." She brought back a hint of her earlier smile. "Something tells me Gummy won't cut it."

As if on cue, Gummy emerged from beneath the table, his toothless jaws a few inches from Twilight's muzzle. "Gah!" She flinched back onto her hooves before collecting herself. "Sorry, Pinkie, but... well, as I said, what could possibly be so bad that you'd rather have me never think of cider the same way again? You're Pinkie Pie. You don't have a sinister bone in your body."

Pinkie's little smile grew to a full grin. "Sure I do. All the ones on the left."

Twilight sputtered and held a hoof over her mouth. "That shouldn't be as funny as it is." She shook her head. "But I'm not going to let this go. I really don't understand why you'd try to hide the nature of your abilities from me. Did you Pinkie Promise somepony you wouldn't tell?"

After a moment's pause, Pinkie shook her head.

"Do you just not know? If you're that embarrassed, then we—"

"It's not that, Twilight. I know exactly how my magic works. That's the problem."

Twilight blinked. "I don't understand."

Pinkie nodded, rubbing her chin along the table. "And it's better that you don't."

Twilight shook her head. "I can't accept that, Pinkie. 'That Which Pony Was Not Meant To Know' gets bandied about a lot in the scientific community, but knowledge alone can't be harmful. It can be surprising, even upsetting, but it can't actually hurt ponies."

"You're really not going to let this go?"

"Even a hydra couldn't make me."

Pinkie leaned back, letting her mane cushion her as she lay on the floor. "Just remember, you asked for it. Literally."

Twilight sat at Pinkie's side. "And repeatedly."

"Now I think I know how Cranky felt when I was welcoming him to Ponyville."

"Hey!" Twilight scowled.

Pinkie winked at her before turning back to the ceiling. "Anyway, most ponies don't know anything about it. Unicorns and pegasi certainly don't; they can't even use it. Most earth ponies only know it as something to avoid."

"That's why Berry Punch excused herself?"

Pinkie nodded. "It's knowledge that wants to be used."

"Knowledge can't want anything," said Twilight.

"And there are no such thing as curses, but Sombra still put one on the Crystal Empire." Pinkie smiled parentally, a mix of love and condescension. "If you're not going to keep an open mind, then—"

"Sorry, sorry. I'll try to keep the comments to a minimum."

"Okay, then. So, there aren't a lot of us who actually know about it instead of just knowing of it, so there's no official name for it or anything. Personally, I call what I can do thaliamancy."

"Thaliamancy? Thalia." Twilight put a hoof to her chin, looking at nothing as she thought. "I know that from somewhere. Thalia, Thalia..." Her ears perked up as she brought her attention back to Pinkie. "The Minoan muse of comedy?"

"That's the one."

"Wow. That's..." Twilight gave a nervous chuckle. "Well, no offense, but I wasn't expecting a Mooditerranean mythology reference from you, Pinkie."

"You need some smarts to be a proper fool, Twilight."

Twilight cleared her throat. "So, uh, thaliamancy would be comedy magic?"

Pinkie shook her head. "Laughter magic."

Twilight's jaw dropped. "Laughter? As in your Element of Harmony? All of this obfuscation for something that's the polar opposite of dangerous?"

Pinkie rolled over and stood, looking down at Twilight. "Have you ever wondered why Laughter is an Element of Harmony?"

"I, um... When I ascended, Celestia mentioned my optimism—"

"Then why not call it that? The Element of Optimism, or of Joy, or of Hope? Loyalty, kindness, generosity, those are all good things unless you really try to make them not. But laughter just means someone, pony or not, is happy. It doesn't say anything about how, or why, or at whose expense. Nightmare Moon laughed. The changeling queen laughed. Discord laughed."

"Discord's ref..." Twilight stuck out her tongue and shook her head. "No, no, I still can't say it without gagging on the sheer unbelievability."

Pinkie nodded. "So how can something so potentially disruptive that the Spirit of Disharmony likes it be a fundamental part of Harmony?"

Twilight stood, and now she was the one looking down. "You've thought about this."

"Anypony who wants to make ponies happy needs to know the difference between laughing with somepony and laughing at her." Pinkie's tone and expression were as serious as when she explained the difference between icing and frosting.

"Okay," said Twilight, "so accepting the premise that certain forms of laughter can be disharmonious, then what?"

"Where do I keep my party cannon?"

Twilight blinked at the non sequitur. "Um, in your wardrobe."

Pinkie nodded. "Show me."

"I'm going to assume you're going somewhere with this." Twilight turned to the furniture in question and opened the door with her magic. It was empty. "What? But I've seen you—"

"Look back over here."

Twilight turned back. The party cannon was right next to Pinkie. "But... but I would've heard something. Even if you teleported it somehow, I would've sensed the magic. How did you—What the hay is happening to your mane!?"

Pinkie's mane was vibrating and puffing out even more than usual. "You're getting what you wanted, Twilight," she whispered. "You're getting the truth." Then her hair burst into a thrashing mass like a stormtossed sea of strawberry milk, while her body glowed from within with the pinkest pink Twilight had ever seen, even beyond Pinkie Pie's usual hue.

Twilight stood agape. "That's not fair," she said in her daze. "I've been trying to get my mane to do that since I got my wings." She shook herself out of the stupor and cried, "What are you!?"

The living lantern gave a sad smile. "A pony. We're more than little horses, Twilight. We have a spiritual aspect as well. Spirits of the sky, bound to flesh by the wings that make them free. Spirits of the mind, bound by horns that make their thoughts reality. And spirits of the fundament, bound only by minds as sturdy as stone.

"But take it from the rock farmers' daughter; stone can erode. When those bindings are lost, the spirit is unfettered. And we have firsthoof experience with an unfettered spirit."

"Discord?" Twilight retreated several steps. "You're like Discord?"

Pinkie shook her head. "Far, far less power. I'm still a pony, and I only have as much magic as I ever did. Which, don't get me wrong, is a lot for an earth pony, but nothing compared to him."

Twilight found part of her thoughts turning to the arcane mystery before her. She dove into it full-bore. At least that she might be able to understand. "So... you're the Spirit of Laughter?"

"A spirit of laughter. I'm not the only fun-talented pony in Equestria. But my talent, my domain, is laughter. The basis of comedy. The foundation on which parties rest. An essential aspect of friendship, and thus of magic. And now we come to the problem."

"What problem?"

Pinkie sighed, and the maelstrom of her mane grew slack for a moment. "This is the fifth time we've had this conversation, Twilight."

"What? What?" Twilight cantered closer, going face-to-phosphorescent-face with Pinkie. "What do you mean 'fifth time'? What happened the other four?"

"Like today, you pushed harder than I did, but those times, you weren't equipped to handle the truth. You couldn't handle the idea of magic you couldn't comprehend, and so you repressed the memories."

"But now," said Twilight, "as an alicorn, I can."

Pinkie nodded. "And that's the problem."

Twilight's mouth worked silently for a moment. "I say again: What?"

"Like I said, this is information that wants to be used. Demands it. It's a constant drip of water eroding the stone of your sanity until there's nothing left. Those of us with the right talents can at least act less crazy." Pinkie gave a little grin. "After all, I'm doing it right now. But you..."

"I'll make the Smarty Pants debacle look tame by comparison," said Twilight, picturing it all too easily. "I'll be a laughing Nightmare of magic itself." Her knees gave out.

Pinkie nuzzled her. "I can fix this, but I need your help."

"Whatever you need me to do, I'll do it."

Pinkie shut her eyes. Bitter tears—literally; they smelled of almonds—ran down her cheeks. "Just don't resist." She sniffled. "Y-you going crazy wouldn't be funny, so Aunt Pinkie Pie's got this all taken care of."

Twilight covered her eyes with her forehooves. "I'm sorry, Pinkie. I should've listened. I shouldn't have stuck my muzzle where it didn't belong."

"Never say that." Pinkie grabbed Twilight off the floor and into a familiar hug. "You learn, Twilight. That's what you do."

And then the roiling pink swept over Twilight, consuming her utterly.

The sun was setting as Twilight Sparkle left Sugarcube Corner. "Thanks again, Pinkie!"

"Any time!"

Twilight smiled as she trotted home. There had been a lot more discussion of theory than she'd expected, but her understanding of earth pony magic had grown immensely. As she had said herself, Pinkieology was a 300-level course at least. She needed Earth Magic 101 first, and that's what Pinkie had given her, complete with guest speaker. Fortunately, the Cakes didn't mind their running well over Pinkie's lunch break.

Granted, Twilight's questions about Pinkie herself were still unanswered, but—

"Ow." Twilight winced and rubbed at her temples. Yes, a headache was a good summary of her efforts to grasp Pinkie thus far. But that was because she'd been trying to drive her horn through a brick wall. Better to understand why it was there and how it had been built. Better to leave some mysteries uninvestigated.

At least, for now.