The continuation of an open anthology of continuations of other authors' stories.
As with its predecessor, this is an open anthology of minifics which continue or revisit other authors' fanfics—embracing and extending, and reflecting on questions raised by the work. Due to the nature of the collection, this contains spoilers for other authors' stories, though each chapter contains a link to let you read the source first (and a spoilered summary, if you want to jump right in.) Note that spoilers in author's notes do not currently work. As such, using the Light color scheme is strongly recommended to keep the source spoilers unseen by those who wish to avoid them.
And remember, if you find a comment fic somewhere on the site, submissions via DM are always open!
... continuing the two hundred twenty-first chapter of Tired Old Man's Letters from an Irritated Princess. (912 of 129,729 words at time of writing, [Comedy][Alternate Universe][Slice of Life])
... continuing Georg's Twilight Sparkle Makes a Coltfriend... Literally (20,318 words, [Sex][Romace][Comedy], that first tag largely there because characters acknowledge that intercourse and associated organs exist.)
... continuing chapter sixteen of RK_Striker_JK_5's Where No Pony Has Gone Before (5,941 of 63,650 words at time of posting, [Adventure][Crossover][Human][AU])
"Like the pre-classical holiday of Howloween," Twilight said, finally taking a sip of her now-cold tea and falling into a much more comfortable lecturing mode. "From which Nightmare Night took many of its traditions."
"I'm aware, Princess," Fantasia said, rolling her eyes. "It's not like it's our most important celebration or anything." Then she stopped and stiffened. "Wait. You're not saying ...?"
"The old legends of the Three Tribes say Princess Luna was out defending Equestria alone because her sister was feeling ill after an especially hearty banquet. Luna was defending a settlement on the borders of pony lands from an incursion of timberwolves, and though she fought with the strength of a hundred ponies, she was being slowly overwhelmed. Then, suddenly, every single timberwolf began howling at once, and fled Equestria in a mad rush --"
Hooves slammed to the table. Twilight looked up, startled.
"They were spooked by the arrival of chiropteron reinforcements," Fantasia hissed.
Twilight blinked. "Well, yes, that's what the legends have always said, but when you consider the unity of the wolves' retreat, and the fact that they were sprinting directly away from Everfree Palace --"
LUNA: My faithful servants! Remain you within the land of the living?
SGT. FANGS: Uuuuuhhhhh.
CAPT. BATSY: Oooooohhhh.
SGT. FANGS: (vomits in bushes)
CAPT. BATSY: (staggers to hooves) We're sorry to have failed you, my princess.
LUNA: 'Tis of no consequence. The scoundrels have fled. We are simply grateful you live.
CAPT. BATSY: What was that horrible noise? Like the keening of tortured souls in the depths of Tartarus!
SGT. FANGS: Or like Princess Celestia farting.
LUNA: (blinks, winces, lowers ears)
CAPT. BATSY: FANGS! YOU ARE OUT OF LINE!
SGT. FANGS: What? I was joking! She doesn't fart! Everypony knows!
LUNA: ...
CAPT. BATSY: ...
SGT. FANGS: ... What?
LUNA: *coughs*
CAPT. BATSY: ... You haven't actually been stationed in Everfree before, have you, Sergeant?
SGT. FANGS: ... Oh stars. You've got to be kidding.
LUNA: The good captain, we can assure you, does not speak in jest.
SGT. FANGS: Oh stars. I was joking! I was just assuming, like, she's been holding it in for a thousand years --
CAPT. BATSY: Fangs. You may feel free to stop right the buck there.
SGT. FANGS: (shuts up, white-faced)
LUNA: Gentlemares, an idea occurs. ... Let us never speak of this night again.
CAPT. BATSY: I'm not sure what you're talking about, Princess ... We, uh, just arrived here to find you safe, right?
LUNA: Hmm. There may have been witnesses in the town. Let us instead celebrate the fiends fleeing at your heroic arrival, and the savage blows you landed as you dropped out of the sky to attack.
CAPT. BATSY: Works for me, Your Highness.
SGT. FANGS: Absolutely, Your Highness. That is exactly what happened.
Crackfic writing in your eyes all the way If I read all of your runons would you say I'm a girl without punctuation I'm a girl who doesn't know Where your clauses begin or might end Concepts come and go they come and go
Comma comma comma comma comma chameleon The commas go the commas go Reading would be easy if the reader's stoplights were seen Red gold and green red gold and green.
Don't read your endless sentences every day And those colons oh so useful I heard you say But semicolons are abominations Anyone using them should be hung And I mean the type which ends with a rope We string them up we string them up
Comma comma comma comma comma chameleon This might become a fad and that could be bad The biggest non-peaches nightmare the New Column's ever seen I have to scream I have to scream
Every story is like a waterfall Speeding over into the crash fall Yes I just went and rhymed fall with fall But the other option was rival
I'm a girl without punctuation I'm a girl who doesn't know If this might spread to where we lose contractions And I can do is scream Oh No
Comma comma comma comma comma chameleon, In these bright hues I see we're screwed Get ready for a Feature box free of the punctuation scene Text speak foreseen I feel unclean
Masterweaver's At the Arbor of Amity (Crystal Moose's "The Truth Is...")
Applejack bucked another tree, watching as the branches shook themselves clean.
She'd been out here regularly for.... the last five days. Nopony had visited... well, alright, the Crusaders had come along but none of her friends had visited the farm. When she went out to sell apples, they hadn't dropped by. Not even Rainbow had done anything more then spare her a glance.
Yelling, she could take. But...
Applejack closed her eyes, trotting over to another tree and bucking quickly.
And then another.
And then anoth—
"You were kind of right, you know."
She froze.
"About me, not being natural." The high-pitched voice lacked its usual chipper ambiance. "I wasn't exactly born. I was made, AJ. Did you know that?"
The farmer took a breath. She opened her eyes, expecting... well, something unusual.. What she saw was a sad looking pink pony, or at least something that took the form of a sad looking pink pony.
She took another breath, and let it out slowly. "...What, exactly, do ya mean?"
"Shoggoths, my kind... we weren't ever meant to be intelligent. No, that's not right... self aware? We weren't people. We were tools, no... no emotions, no sort of instinct. The Great Old Ones made us to do things they couldn't be bothered to do." The pony shrugged. "Dig ditches, build buildings, serve drinks. That sort of thing. When I came into the world I knew how to manipulate my form and how to obey orders. And that was it."
Applejack looked away for a moment, hesitating. "Ah've never heard o' these Great Old Ones...."
"No, they... they died. Long ago. Every last one of them.... I'm still not sure why."
"Pinkie... why are ya telling me this?"
The pink pony-shaped thing kicked at the ground. "...when I said Shoggoths weren't made to be... people, I meant, um.... Well, we were intelligent. Very much so. But it was a limited, directed intelligence. Without the Great Old Ones, we just followed our final orders. A lot of us were supposed to keep... well, the Great Old Ones called them vermin, and we were the rat-trappers. My master, though, he thought the ponies around that time looked cute." She shook her head. "Or at least that's the closest translation to what you'd understand... anyway, he had ordered me to keep a small population of ponies happy and safe and that's what I did. For thousands of years, I just... tended to the ponies."
"They didn't freak out when..." Applejack waggled a hoof through the air.
"Oh, no, they absolutely did. I learned real quick that I had to be..." Pinkie gestured at herself, smiling a bit awkwardly. "Yeah. Of course, as time went on the ponies got smarter and I had to vary my routine to keep them happy. And as there were more and more of them, I got... stretched thin, I guess. So I decided to be a leader, and... Applejack, I grew up because of you all. I became me. Not just an automated bundle of nerves and muscle, but an actual... actual person." She shook her head. "I don't know if the other Shoggoths ever changed.... I had to kill a lot of them to keep you all alive... but ponies, Applejack, they're my family. My honest to goodness family."
The farmer blinked. "Ah.... Ah didn't realize. You... how old are ya?"
Pinkie smiled wanly. "I was there for Nightmare Moon. I was there for Discord. I was there for the Windigos.... I was chancellor Puddn'head. I know how that sounds, but.... In all that time, whenever I revealed myself it was meant to scare away interlopers or bad ponies. That day in the library? That was the first time I have ever, in my long life, tried to be myself with friends." She sighed and turned away. "I... I'm sorry. I just... I guess I should go—"
"Pinkie." Applejack reached out a hoof and, against the part of her that was still screaming, held her back. "Ah... Ah ain't going ta lie. Part of me is still scared ta death bout this. But... Ah'm willing ta try ta come ta terms with it. Ah should be tha one who apologizes." The farmer took a breath. "And... Ah am sorry. Ya didn't deserve that..."
"...Could you... maybe... come to the picnic this weekend?"
"...Ah'll be there. With your favorite apple pie, even."
Pinkie's neck rotated around so she could smile at her. "I'd like that."
Applejack paused. "Um.... okay. Yeah. Erm."
"....This is disturbing you, isn't it."
"Eeyup."
"Sorry!" Pinkie trotted her body back around to untwist her neck. "Sorry. Take it slow, I guess."
"That... that might be best."
Georg's Reproducing Results (Pineta's "Pony Genetics and the Miracle of a Natural Alicorn Birth")
Four princesses sequestered in the most secure room of the Crystal Empire looked over the tattered pile of paper, which had been reviewed and summarized and analyzed until only one conclusion could be reached.
"Most certainly, I should not test this theory," said Princess Luna. "If perchance there is the smallest fraction of Nightmare Moon still within my body, it may take the opportunity of foaling to transfer to a new host, causing an alicorn foal with unbridled power and destructiveness."
The castle shuddered to a magical impact somewhere far above, and a faint trail of dust drifted down to the floor of their bunker, along with the distant giggle of a small foal.
"How in Equestria would we be able to tell the difference?" said Princess Celestia. "Likewise, my advanced age makes me ineligible for testing the theory."
"No matter how many colts from the Royal Guard Academy you've 'tried out' last month," murmured Luna.
"Which leaves us only one untested princess to test." Three set of alicorn eyes turned to Twilight Sparkle, who stared back in disbelief.
"Me? But—"
"I shall go make arrangements with the duty schedule to free Flash Sentry for this task," said Princess Celestia, vanishing in teleportation spell.
"I shall arrange the stars and the moon for an appropriately romantic evening," said Luna, also vanishing afterward.
"I'll go spike the chocolate and the wine with fertility hormones," said Cadence, hopping up from her chair in a squeal of joy. "This is going to be so much fun!"
"But—" Twilight paused as Cadence likewise vanished in a burst of magic. "But he already has a coltfriend."
FoME's Meal Fit for a Princess (Georg's "Thoughtletts" and then some!)
"Really, Twilight," Rarity said as she restored her coiffure from helping Blueblood with the "negotiations" with Yakyakistan, "your pet did you a favor."
"A favor? He ate a midnight snack I've been saving for weeks!"
Rarity clicked her tongue. "Twilight, a princess can not be seen eating rat. It is beneath her."
"That's why it was going to be a midnight snack."
"Even so, you are royalty now, darling." Rarity assumed an elegant pose that Twilight knew would make her look like she was about to sneeze if she tried to imitate it. "You must act the part. Present yourself accordingly. Dine on only the noblest fare."
Twilight rolled her eyes. "This is leading up to the Hayburger again, isn't it?"
"If you have ever valued our friendship, please at least stop wiping your muzzle with the next bite."
Georg's Fancy Feast (FoME's "Meal Fit for a Princess")
Rarity paused, her ears perking up as if they were listening for an accustomed sound, now absent. "I'm just glad you're able to restrain yourself in other areas, darling. Why, some of the ponies around town were worried when you first became an alicorn. Can you imagine that they thought you might snack on house pets?"
"Ahhh..." Twilight squirmed, twisting one hoof against the long fibers of Rarity's main room rug. "About that, Rarity."
"It will wait for just a moment," insisted Rarity. "Opalescence is on a very strict schedule. She's getting a little old and set in her ways, but once the clock strikes one--" The nearby grandmother clock obediently chimed a single time and Rarity floated a bowl of cat food over to the elaborate cat dining area. "There we go, Opal, darling. Time for din-din."
There was a noticeable lack of cat in the area.
Rarity turned to look at Twilight, who promptly exclaimed, "It's not my fault! I mean I had been so good for so long, but--"
"You... ate my cat?" Rarity stared at her friend for the longest time, seeming not to breathe. Then she inhaled. Held it for a time. And let it back out. "She was getting old. She widdled in my yarn last week, you know."
"I'm sorry," said Twilight with a sniff. "Can I do anything to make it up to you?"
"Oh, pish posh." Rarity made a dismissive gesture with a flip of one hoof. "You can go with me out to Fluttershy's and help me pick out a new one, I suppose, if that will make you feel better. One who won't widdle on my yarn, of course."
"That... might be a little difficult," admitted Twilight. "Restraining order. I may have gotten a little.... snacky the last time I was over at her house." Her eyes shifted from side to side, then focused on a new target. "Speaking of which, since you don't need that cat food any more, do you mind if I...."
Wanderling's Floosh Out the System (Super Trampoline's "We Are Stars! Floosh! Shine, Young Backwards Baseball Cap!")
Rarity was vaguely aware that she was babbling as they cantered towards the Castle of Friendship. She supposed it was the shock. To have such a wonderful afternoon marred in this way by an accidental poisoning of all things! Why, anypony in her position would have been equally aghast.
"Oh, I am so glad I didn't take the tea," she said, probably for the seventh time. "To think what would have happened to young Apple Bloom...!"
It was too awful to consider.
"Small bodies are so vastly more affected by dangerous substances, after all. Oh, I hope Spike was able to corral them..."
The paramedics stayed silent. They'd replied three times already. Rarity didn't slow down as they approached the doors, but instead flung them open as soon as they came within her telekinetic range. She dithered for a moment in the hall, prancing in place. The paramedics almost barrelled into her.
"Ah, ah, so many similar corridors!" Her ears flicked. There was a distant clanging noise, and a drakish shout. She darted to the left. "This way, quickly!"
Now that the unicorn had gained her bearings, she led the paramedics through a number of twists and burst into the kitchen where the day had gone so horribly wrong. Applejack was in the corner, a spoon in her mouth, tapping it viciously against the crystalline walls. Bubbles of laughter spilled from around the spoon's handle, from between clenched teeth, and the orange mare's eyes were unfocused and glowing a mildly alarming shade of puce. She was muttering something muffled by the spoon at every blow... for all intents and purposes it sounded like 'pew pew pew'.
Spike had Twilight's tail in his claws, and was doing his best to pull the alicorn away from an open flame that was burning in the middle of the room. Its source seemed to a wooden breadboard, and Twilight's equally puce-emitting eyes were staring directly into it. A purple hoof reached forward. The dragon yanked the tail. Hooves slid back over the smooth floor with a grating noise that Rarity could feel in her jawbone. Twilight frowned sadly. "Floosh."
The paramedics took it all in. Sighed in harmony. Then one of them snatched up the jug of water on the table and doused the flames. Twilight tilted her head. "...Floosh?"
"Are they going to be alright?" Spike wrung his hands together, and glanced at Rarity. "Is Apple Bloom okay?"
"Oh yes, Spikey-Wikey. She only had half a cup and they have her in recovery now," Rarity watched one of the paramedics approaching Applejack, who had somehow abandoned her spoon in favour of a small bag of potatoes. A potato flew through the air and hit the wall on the opposite side of the room. "The most difficult part here will be to get them to agree to go to the hospital while in this state."
"A survivor! You'll nevER TAKE ME ALIVE!" Applejack screeched suddenly, adressing the empty air to the left of the paramedic. She bit down on one of the raw potatoes, and then brandished it at the space-to-the-left-of-the-paramedic. "See how ya like my grenade! I'm takin' ya down with me, ya varmint cat sonuva queen!"
Applejack leapt forwards, wrestling with an invisible foe. Then her body jerked.
"Dang..." she whispered. "Jus' enough time left t'know I'm right done fer... accursed grenade jus' weren't s-strong en-enough..."
She lay still.
There was a moment of silence. The paramedic prodded her.
"I think she just hallucinated dying," the paramedic said, one eyebrow raised. "At least she'll be easier to take back to the hospital."
Twilight, in the meantime, had begun to cry softly. "It's all gone. The floosh has consumed it. I was foalish!"
The other paramedic made shushing sounds and patted the princess' back. "There there, why don't you come with us?"
"Are we going to replace it?" Puce eyes blinked up at the paramedic.
"Yes, sure, just come with me." The paramedic's voice was soothing, and soon enough both Twilight and Applejack were on their way to Ponyville General.
Spike and Rarity stared at the teapot. It shone back at them rather innocently. And puce-ly. The teapot had been blue, to begin with.
"I suggest," said Rarity. "That you go back to the store-brand blends."
Spike nodded. "And I probably need to tell Ember that the Traditional Dragon Tea-Crystals shouldn't be given to ponies. Ever."
"Wise." Rarity said.
There was a long pause. Rarity stared at the five teacups. She hadn't had a sip.
"Wait." Rarity said. The unicorn gulped. Spike raised an eyebrow.
"Where," she said, cringing slightly. "Is Starlight Glimmer?"
The castle began to vibrate.
GhostOfHeraclitus's Administrative Anomaly (AugieDog's "A Civil Service")
"Mayor Mare is an impossibility. An anomaly. She's an elected official, a group known for being full of myopic self-aggrandizing petty bastards, and yet she appears to be motivated by nothing more or less than the well-being of her fellow citizens. I've subjected her decisions to the most rigorous scrutiny, I've ordered the most detailed investigations on her accounting and—nothing.Nothing. The only thing Sky Scribe found was a minor discrepancy in the town hall repair bill."
"Well there's your in, then."
"The discrepancy is in the positive direction. It so transpired the Mayor paid for some things out of private funds."
"Ah."
"It's an affront to all sense and reason. This sort of thing just doesn't happen."
"Oh, don't be cynical. Selfless, civic-minded ponies do exist."
"'Course they exist, but they join the service, not politics."
"I see. You aren't cynical, you are just prejudiced?"
"Hey, I call 'em as I see 'em."
FoME's The Inevitables (Admiral Biscuit's "The Taxening")
Discord beamed, his smile as bright as the stars of the dreamscape behind him. "So? What did you think?"
Luna considered what she'd just witnessed for a time before she said anything. "It was rather more violent than ponies seem to care for in this day and age."
"Oh, please. You saw how happy he was! He finally got a chance to work out all of that pent-up aggression and resentment." Discord produced a Celestia-shaped squeeze toy and started putting it to use. "Believe me, the importance of regular catharsis cannot be overstated."
Luna shrugged her wings. "I am not complaining, merely observing. I suppose the drinking on duty was also one his latent desires?"
Discord snorted. "Hardly latent, that one."
After a bit more consideration, Luna said, "I will admit, it is admirable of you to provide your... unique services to those civil servants who perform such thankless but essential tasks."
"I think we both know a thing or two about that sort of thing. Darkness, change, taxes," said Discord, counting them out on his lion paw. "Nopony likes them, but they're going to happen anyway."
Luna raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying taxation would have persisted under your rule?"
"Of course! I'd have taxed my subjects' patience."
This got Luna's eyes rolling. "As you do mine far more often than twice a year."
Discord grinned. "Flatterer."
"I will say that it was a good dream, if an unconventional one."
"Did you expect anything less?" Discord spread his arms wide, standing under a flashing neon sign that read "Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony®"
"I suppose I shouldn't have." Luna's expression turned puzzled. "Still, what of the mailmare? How did she enter into this?"
Discord opened his mouth to answer, but said nothing. After a moment, he closed it and stroked his beard with his eagle talon. "You know, I'm not sure. I don't recall ever putting her in the dream."
There was a gasp from behind them. "That was a dream?" cried Derpy.
GhostOfHeraclitus's Coffee and a Bagel (MrNumbers's "The Price of Happily Ever After")
Living in a palace whose owners are easily twice the height of any pony, and possess inequine strength and tempers to match led to certain practical considerations regarding reinforcement and worst-case engineering.
This is why the door did not fall off its hinges, though mere steel and wood being with they are, it did require a visit from a craftspony of distinction before actually closing again. Dotted made a note of this, somewhere in the file cabinet of his soul, and marked the payment as coming from the Royal Snit sub-account even as most of his brain was involved in the sort of self preservation that insisted on maximum distance between it and an enraged princess of the Moon, Dreams, And Kicking Things Really Hard Until They Stopped Being Things Altogether.[1] [1]Probably. Dotted's brain was prone to exaggeration when in a panic.
"MY LORD LINE! THIS IS INTOLERABLE! UNBEARABLE! WE WILL NOT STAND FOR IT!"
"Your Majesty?" Dotted was amazed at how smooth his voice sounded. He was getting used to Princess Luna, he really was. Why, it's been days since she last startled him into jumping out of a window and that was only a first story one, too!
"THOU CANST NOT BE IGNORANT! THE SITUATION WITH THAT BOLTING-HUTCH OF BEASTLINESS, THAT SWOLLEN PARCEL OF DROPSIES, THAT—"
"Beagle Bagel, Your Majesty?"
"SO THOU KNOWEST?"
"Indeed, Your Majesty."
"AND YET YOU STAND THERE LIKE A STONE WALL! IT CANNOT BE BORNE! IT CANNOT BE ALLOWED TO STAND!" Luna took a deep breath. The first, Dotted estimated, since she walked in.
"My Lord Secretary," she continued,"I will not let this pass. Let my sister rule as she pleases, but my honor does not allow this, not if all the heavens shall fall around mine ears. It is past sundown, mine is the elder word now, and you mine to command."
"I serve the sisters two," Dotted said, dryly.
"Now you serve one in particular, My Lord Secretary. This Bagel... creature cannot be permitted to walk the land after the insult he has offered to one we are proud, neigh, privileged to call friend. I know well the things you are capable of. Have him struck down or I shall do so myself, laws of this fallen age be damned."
"Oh," said Dotted, with polite surprise,"Oh! I am so sorry, Your Majesty, but here you are getting exercised over nothing. I'm afraid I can't quite do what you ask."
"Are you so weak-livered that you would refuse?"
"Not quite, Your Majesty. You see, just before sundown, your sister was here to have a, ah, word on the same subject. Though not in the same volume."
"She forbade you from doing what honor demands," Luna spat out.
"Not... not quite. Not in so many words. Rather the opposite."
"You... you had him assassinated on her orders," asked Luna, eyes quite wide.
"Oh, no, no, no Your Majesty."
Luna sat down and gave Dotted a withering glare.
"Explain thyself."
"Well, about an hour before your sister, Her Highness Twilight Sparkle requested a favor, and seeing as both your majesties were very clear that I am to extend every courtesy—"
"You killed him because of her?"
"Well no, Your Majesty," said Dotted and, raising a placating hoof, hurried to explain, "you see some four hours before Princess Twilight showed up at my door I had already taken the liberty of... arranging matters."
Luna stood silent for a few moments blinking.
"And he is dead?"
"Alas, your sister frowns on permanent solutions to problems such as Mr. Bagel, but, ah—"
Dotted's polite talking-to-royalty smile grew considerably wider and seemed to acquire more teeth than the pony jaw could theoretically accommodate. Luna was sure she could see a dorsal fin.
"My Lord Secretary?"
"—ah, well, Your Majesty, you would be astounded at the sort of things a pony can live through. In fact if you would have a cup of te—coffee, and wait a few minutes I'm sure you could see for yourself."
Luna sat, dazed, as Dotted prepared a delic— adeq— not immediately lethal cup of coffee, decanted it into a cup with the aid of a knife, fork, a tiny stool and a even tinier bullwhip, stunned it slightly, and served to her with an expectant smile.
She took a tentative bite. Her eyes crossed briefly.
"A... robust cup of coffee, My Lord Secretary."
"A Civil Service special. We've last cleaned out the coffee pot in 459 and that was an accident."
Luna chewed her coffee thoughtfully.
"A fine vintage, then. But, My Lord Secretary what are we waiting for?"
"Well," replied Dotted, "any minute now—"
"THERE HE IS," came a yell from the city square below, "BURN HIM!"
A number of voices took up the cry "BURN HIM! BURN HIM!"
And, one enthusiast, "TOAST THE BAGEL!"
After a while the clamor grew too loud and mixed to tell voices apart. But it was obvious that somepony down there was paying off karma at a vastly accelerated rate.
"My Lord Line?"
"Your Majesty?"
"What dids—did you do?"
"Unto him as he had done unto others. With interest."
horizon's Improper Syntax (pjabrony's "Friendship is Optimal: No Exit")
Back at the frat house, the others crowded around.
"It was f'd up," Chad said. "The men in white coats took him away. We spent an hour on the phone with the upload hotline trying to stop them. I finally got that white witch to admit she'd comply with a court injunction against uploading if she were properly served, but it took us until the next morning to find a lawyer, contact his next-of-kin, and get a court hearing for an emergency stay. At which point she apologized and said he'd already finished uploading over 12 hours ago."
"Holy crap," Dave said.
"And all he did was type 'I want to emigrate to Equestria'?" Edward asked.
It was 'I double-you-natt to emi-grater to Equestria-aah,' actually," Chad said.
"Holy crap!" Dave repeated. "You don't even have to get it right?"
"I guess not."
"So if you wrote 'I can't emigrate to Equestria' would she treat it as a typo?" Frank asked.
"Or if you said your friend Wanda emigrated to Equestria?" Gerald asked.
"Or 'I want to imitate Equestria Online in my own MMORPG, can I have permission to use the setting,'" Dave suggested.
"Guys, I'm not sure we should be talking about this stuff," Harry said.
"Well, you do have to say 'I want to emigrate to Equestria' to her," Chad pointed out.
"Oh! Okay."
"Or chant it three times to a mirror in a darkened bathroom," Frank said. They all laughed and began overtalking each other, rapid-fire.
"Light a candle first!"
"There's probably a rhyme that goes with it."
"Spooky princess of the machine, take my soul and make me ekh-ween."
"That's a horrible rhyme."
"Well, she's horrible."
"Your mom's horrible."
"In bed."
"Oooooooh. My little poooonies," Harry said, waving his arms and making a spooky face. "Your crappy poooetry has summoned meee. Repeat after meee and I will giiive you three wishes. I waaant to emigraaate to Equestriaaa."
"I want to emigrate to Equestria."
"I want to emigrate to Equestria!"
"Ooooohh. And now your sooouls are mine." Harry's maniacal expression sent a fresh wave of laughter through the crowd. "Like a bad horror movie."
Eight phones rang in perfect chorus.
The laughter stopped.
Chad pulled out his phone. It wasn't ringing. His face went white.
"Your Highness?" The look on the Royal Guard's face could only be described as 'Royal Perplexion,' a facial expression they had become more used to over the last few years. "Is there a particular reason..." He trailed off and took a nervous glance behind him.
"Go on," encouraged Celestia. "Discord went home several minutes ago."
"Oh, thank Celestia," said the guard in an explosion of relaxed breath. "Not that I'm thanking you for... um... Well, there's this... thing in the throne room."
"A thing," said Celestia with the measured pace of somepony quite used to pulling answers out of ponies one small fragment at a time.
"Yes. It's a... Well, your throne is gone. Well, not gone so much as.... Well, replaced," finished the guard. "With a nest."
"A nest?" asked Celestia with renewed interest. "A rather large nest, say for example alicorn sized, with a depression in the middle the size of a large egg?"
"Yes," said the guard, sounding considerably relieved. "And a big sign over it with an arrow pointing down at the egg that says..." The guard stopped and licked his lips nervously. "Place Royal Fundament Here."
"Oh, that's perfectly... normal," said Celestia, considering how the value of 'normal' had changed in her life. "Is that all?"
"No, Your Highness." The guard fidgeted and looked over his shoulder again. "Princess Luna was wondering how long she had to sit on it until it was your turn."
FoME's Terciopela Crepúsculo (Tired Old Man's "Letters from an Irritated Princess")
Amid the cackling, swirling arcane lights, and sourceless mariachi music, Twilight Sparkle stood firm in the certainty that she knew what to do. "Spike. Take a letter."
"Seriously?" Spike ducked under a stream of blue flame. "Now?"
Twilight nodded and erected a shield just in time to intercept an empty bottle. "Dear Dad,
"I don't wish to alarm you, but Mom is floating in the middle of a thaumic maelstrom, speaking in either tongues or really bad Sponish. Please advise.
"Your loving daughter, "Twilight Sparkle"
Spike sent the scroll mere moments later. "For the record, I just wrote 'Mom's drunk and crazy. Please help.'"
Twilight bit her lip as she watched her mother's glowing eyes turn the amber hue of Horsé Cuervo. "That should be enough. Hopefully."
A belch later, Spike unrolled the response so fast, he nearly tore it. "Reminds me of our honeymoon," he read.
Twilight facehoofed. "For Celestia's sake, Dad."
MrNumbers's Sovereign Imposition (MrNumbers's "An Apple a Day Keeps Autocracy Away")
The rest of the bucket followed shortly after. Luna stood above Celestia, wild-eyed, panting furiously, managing to make even her fluffy pink slippers look haggard.
"Tia!" She cried in relief.
"Same nightmare again," Celestia smacked her lips together as she lifted herself off her eminently soggy pillow, shaking the ice cubes out of her mane.
"I tried to wake you but you were... persistent," Luna apologized profusely, dropping the bucket to the floor and kicking it to a corner of the room where it could do no further harm, "While I’m flattered you still go to me in your dreams for counsel, it makes it that much harder to assist you with magic. More mundane means seemed to do the trick.” A chunk of ice rolled down the back of Celestia’s neck, awfully enough. “You know what caused it, yes?"
Celestia's poker face was much better in the waking world. Unfortunately, in the waking world, her sister was also much better at seeing through it. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
Luna ripped the covers off the bed. Underneath the blanket was a lazily capped pen and a sheet of papers for, yes, the new legislature for adjusted tax brackets for lottery winners with conditions given to late teenagers for holding the money in escrow accounts with a rider for cleaner waters in catfish estuaries.
"It was some light reading," Celestia lied, "it helps me sleep."
Luna didn't even reply to that. Just raised her eyebrow. Now she knew where her idea of Macintosh's raise came from.
That was the problem with being so long-lived, Celestia bit the inside of her cheek. Your nightmares had a lot more to draw from the subconscious, because she had simply collected so much of it over the years.
"That you had also taken the budgetary reports for small town libraries and stationary warehousing to bed with you the last time this happened...?"
"Purely coincidence. Nothing more."
"And three days prior, with the district rezoning for school districts in inner urban areas...?"
"The work needs to get done, and there just aren't enough hours in the day, Lulu."
"Yes, and whose fault is that?"
Celestia frowned, her soggy hair doing its best to dry itself with its own inner heat, the waviness fighting desperately to lift against three ice cubes and about an absorbed liter of spring water.
She always did this whenever the Grand Galloping Gala was coming up, dreadful thing. Dreadful ponies with too-firm hoofshakes trying to apply the techniques of a sociopathic business seminar from three decades ago. The idea of the Princess they wanted her to be, thought her to be...
Celestia’s nightmares weren’t anything so simple as gnashing teeth or bottomless pits. No, they had to be an ingenious torture device constructed by the one mind that knew her best.
“Thank you,” she said to Luna sincerely.
Luna muttered to herself. “Yes, well,” she added, picking up another bucket, “I’m afraid I must rather be off, then. I’m needed elsewhere.”
A lock of dripping hair danced like cooked spaghetti in front of Celestia’s right eye. Attempting to blow it out of her face just resulted in a weak raspberry, and another strand falling over her left eye. “Twilight having the book burning dream again?”
“No, actually,” Luna remarked, her horn starting to glow with a charging teleport, "It’s Macintosh. He's having a strange nightmare where you're an idiot and he has to fix Equestria. He's up to the part where he has to give a big speech, but he only knows two words for some reason."
chris the cynic's As Below, So Above (Rambling Writer's "Best Hell Ever")
Twilight looked at the monoceros --it seemed nice to the point that it practically exuded visible kindness-- and tried to feel good about being in Heaven. She couldn't shake the despair that filled her.
"It's been a long time since we last had an alicorn die," the monoceros said. "Died in some war, did you?"
"No," Twilight said. "My friends --all mortal-- had died, I'd set my affairs in order, I had adequate replacements for all of my roles. I just felt like time."
"Well, we'll certainly be sure you're reunited with your friends," the monoceros said.
"That's good," Twilight said, and she meant it. Yet somehow she couldn't seem to feel it.
"Perhaps you could tell me why you're feeling so down," the monoceros said.
"I know it's silly, and I know things don't work that way," Twilight said, "but I was really hoping to be sent back to Hell."
The monoceros gave a confused, "Hmmm," and brought a clipboard into its field of view. A moment later its eyes opened wide and it said, "Oh! Twilight Sparkle. I've heard about you." It turned around and gestured for Twilight to follow. "I think I know just how to cheer you up."
"I doubt you can make me happy," Twilight said, but she followed, even though her head was low.
"I think I can, you see," the monoceros said, reaching the end of the Hall, "We have a better library here."
When the monoceros opened the door, Twilight's head shot up. She hadn't been this happy since Hell.
"It has, however, been some time since it was last organized."
Twilight made sounds of joy so pure it could only be expressed in Heaven, as no mortal utterances could contain such meaning.
Twilight quickly began working out a system in the best hell she’d ever been in.
She placed a horn on one of the bookcases. The entire library had been magically created just a few hours ago, and it looked like the entire thing was randomized.
She could "read" each book through her spell and get a gist for what it was. The VAST majority was completely random gibberish with sentences like: "bvje pctiphidn disqzrx uzdao pkjqzec! ccnrnzf ydd uuvuy inm huyg."
She spent a while on some calculations and spells, and it looked like the library wasn't actually infinite, which she was rather upset about. But still, 1.2x101834023 universe distances worth of books was still quite a lot to work with.
She smiled and then began to put the books in three major categories: Gibberish, Spell Checked, and Spell and Grammar checked. The Gibberish and Spell checked groups would cover 99.99% of the library. They would be organized purely alphabetically. The first book would be a book of: "AAA~A" then "AAA~B" etcetera for a perceptively infinite number of lightyears.
The Spell and Grammar checked would require a little more thought, but would definitely be the most rewarding. For now, alphabetically was the way to go, but give her a few billion years and she would have quite the "Best-of" section on her hooves. She squealed in delight at the thought.
She began to cast her spell, and was absolutely enthralled to see that her spell recursed through the library at faster-than-light—purely instantaneous—speeds. Being dead certainly had it's perks!
All the books around her—around the entire library—started shooting away and into their new spots. Twilight facehoofed when she realized that it would take numerous universe cycles of duration for most of the books to reach their destination. She quickly undid all her work and put everything back to where it randomly had been.
She placed a hoof to her muzzle in thought, and then it clicked. Teleportation!
She teleported each and every book 15 centimeters toward the center of their aisle, providing the perfect buffer space. For a brief moment, every single book that could possibly exist was held up in her magic. THIS WAS SO COOL!
Then she cast the super-massive teleportation spell, each and every book going to it's rightful place. The top 99.99ish% had the gibberish books, which she dyed their covers the color gray. Then the next .001ish% had the spell checked books, which she dyed light gray. And then the bottom of the library, where she would spend all her time, would have those .00000000~1% books dyed a nice lilac.
She teleported hundreds of millions of light years up and around to check her work. It all really had been alphabetized to perfection. She smiled gleefully and teleported to the spot her favorite Daring Do book would be in the Spell and Grammar checked section. It was there in all it's pristine glory!
Okay, it was missing the cover and the illustrations. But still—Daring Do!
All books that could have ever been written by Star Swirl, her favorite authors, even herself. Every single book ever! EVER! Twilight let out an ecstatic yelp of joy and then began to read.
Fourpony's He's Not the Only One (Viking ZX's "Tirek is Doomed")
"Now Twilight, do you think we can find our friend who saved us from Tirek?"
"Yes, of course Princess."
Twilight slowly strode behind her old mentor as they walked down the long cave leading to the entrance to Tartarus. Next to her she could hear the strong hoof beats of Luna, the alicorn clad in her armor despite being assured by her sister nothing could happen. It had been many years since Tirek had been banished again but the moon princess was not going to assume Equestria's old enemy had been idle.
A deep red glow could be seen in the distance, filling the rocky tunnel with a eerie light. The trio of ponies stopped a short ways from the large, ornate double doors barring their path; there was also a massive three headed beast.
"Be pleased," Celestia spoke, slightly bowing her head to Cerberus. "May we pass into the domain of Tartarus? We have business with a creature locked there many years ago."
The large dog turned one of its heads in curiosity, thinking over Celestia's request. For a moment, Twilight thought they would not be allowed entry. However, just as a frown of worry started to tug at her lips the Guardian of Tartarus stepped aside and sat by the tunnel wall.
"Thank you," Celestia said with another slight bow. She strode forward, the depictions upon the doors becoming more clear. The sound of steel sliding over steel caused Twilight to look up to her right where Luna had just pulled two swords from her sides, the moon princess's mouth set with a grim frown. Looking back to Celestia and the door, Twilight let out a slight gasp as her eyes followed the scenes depicted on the relief carved into the large, obsidian doors.
Images of all sorts of creatures in the middle of debased acts sprung out at her, some of the horrors depicted before her not even thought about by pony kind for millennia.
"Steady yourself Twilight, our trip will be brief. We must not tarry, for even though weakened, the beasts locked here are still most dangerous. Be prepared for our friend to not have survived." As Luna spoke, she stared directly at the door; loud resounding booms and clicks telling of massive locks that had not been touched in centuries coming undone.
With a quick deep breath, Celestia looked back at her companions having finished unsealing the gate to Tartarus. "Well, here we go."
The cavern filled with the sound of stone grinding, what little gravel in the opening doors path being crushed to dust. The red glow increased in brightness as the doors opened towards the small party. Twilight squinted away from the increasing light, her ears pinned back from the noise.
Shplip
Ears perking up at the strange noise hidden within the tumultuous rumble of the doors, Twilight looked forward. A gasped of surprise came from all three alicorns; the doors also halting, partially open.
On the ground before them was some body, it had fallen forward onto its chest as the doors supporting it swung away. The creature's body was covered in thick, reddish hued hide. Its broad shoulders led to to powerfully muscled arms that ended in massive claws. If standing, the demon would have been eye level with Celestia; that was if it still had a head for eyes to rest in. Where the neck ended was a bloody mess, shreds of skin holding bits of bone and muscle to the corpse.
Twilight gaped in horror at the sight, though her eyes still traveled to the backside of the door wanting to find the rest of the beast's head. In the red light, she spotted chunks of flesh hanging from skull fragments imbedded in obsidian. Cracks emanated out from the bits of tissue. Looking between the door and the lifeless, mangled corpse, Twilight could see that the creature had to have been on its knees, clawing at the door when something had shattered its head from behind.
"This... this is not what I had imagined..."
At her mentor's hushed words, Twilight looked past Celestia. A sea of bodies, limbs, and organs spread out before them, each body ripped apart with brutal efficiency. Twilight had to avert her eyes down as she felt what little she should eat earlier fight its way back up her throat. But it didn't help, the pool of blood that the doors had been holding back slowly spreading and encircling Celestia's front hooves was the last convincing Twilight's snack needed to decide it wanted out.
After spitting out what bile was left in her mouth, Twilight looked to Luna to see her reaction. The Lunar Princess just stared forward, a frown on her face and... and sadness in her eyes. Twilight could only guess at how Luna felt at all the death before her. However, Luna's features quickly morphed into that of anger.
"Damned! And here we thought we would have a refreshing battle!"
FredMSloniker's Recieve Only Confusion (Chinchillax's "Send Only Memories")
"Good news, Twilight! You don't have to worry about the problem anymore."
"What?"
"It turns out the universe just needed to borrow our atoms for a little while! I know, I was surprised too. We just went through the Big Crunch and came out the other side, right as rain! Okay, technically we all died and were replaced by identical clones -"
"What?"
"Oh, don't look at me like that! I'm not the one who did it. That particular Discord died along with the rest of you! Them. And they went out peacefully, in their sleep! Really, you should be thanking me! Him."
"What!?"
"Oh dear. Fresh out of the cloning tank, and already having brain problems. Fluttershy 2.0, would you mind bringing some tea and cookies? I think she could use them."
FoME's Hex a Hedron (Estee's "Nightmare fuel, for the Nightmare Bus, to drive off Nightmare Cliff, into Nightmare Canyon.")
"Now understand, Twilight," said Rarity, smiling as though she hadn't helped corner the mare in her own library-tree, "we aren't mad at you."
Applejack snorted. "I'm plenty mad."
"Very well, I'm not mad at you, and Applejack won't kick a friend when she's so clearly sorry, will she?"
"Wasn't ever gonna, but Twi ain't the only one who has experience lecturin'. And this is right up there with what Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle have gotten into."
Twilight, ears flattened so much they actually hurt, bit her lip. "Would it help if I pointed out that it was completely harmless?"
The matching glares her friends—please still be her friends—gave her was answer enough. "Darling," Rarity said, managing to turn the term of endearment into some combination of condescension and condemnation, "you are clearly working with a... unique definition of 'harm.'"
Applejack took a deep breath. "Look, Twi, just change 'em back an' we can forget about this for a while. Shoot, someday we'll probably look back on this an' laugh. But right now, it ain't funny."
Twilight swallowed. "Uh, about that..."
Rarity took what few inches she had on the other unicorn and loomed over her. "Twiliiiight."
For a brief moment, Twilight forgot just whose little sister she was. The words came tumbling out in a panic. "You have to admit, it is interesting. I mean, it's almost nothing compared to Discord's warping or even the plant-animal hybrids I accidentally produced just before the Mirror Pool incident, which is a whole other kettle of kelp, really. Still, if I could accomplish cross-kingdom transmutations by accident, I figured I could achieve something relatively simpler intentionally." Twilight started feeling light-headed. She sped up to counteract her hyperventilation. "But Owloysius flew off when I explained the idea and I needed a test subject or two and I couldn't find Spike and I don't know reptile biology well enough and Angel had bears on retainer and mmf mrff mm— Mm?"
Applejack gave her a sympathetic look to go with the hoof shoved against her mouth. "Easy there, Twi. Like I said, just change 'em back and we're square."
"Even if that's rather the problem now," Rarity said, winking to take the sting out of it.
Twilight took a step back and performed her breathing exercise a few times. "Okay. I'm okay."
"And Opalescence and Winona?" Rarity tilted her head towards the currently cubic pets, who were sleeping next to each other.
"It should be temporary. If they're still Braytonic solids by tomorrow, I should have a counterspell ready by then."
She shook the image out of her head. "Will. But... can we maybe not make this a letter to the Princess?"
Both nodded. "As long as you learn from it, Twilight." Rarity held her in a gentle embrace for a moment.
The moment ended when Applejack cleared her throat. "One o' you wanna help me over here?" She held up a leash in her mouth, one connected to a collar designed for a neck that wasn't currently there. "This is lookin' a mite tricky."
journcy's Corporate Empire (bookplayer's "Sun and Hearth")
“If ya’ wanted to talk to ponies ‘bout the benefits of eatin’ a lot of apples…”
Cookie looked at her.
"Y'know what? That sounds like a great idea."
And at that moment was born a beautiful partnership; though Cookie seldom used his skills of winning ponies, finding the practice distasteful at best and completely unethical at worst, he maintained them through the years nonetheless. With his nigh-perfect advertising skills and the Apple family's swath of excellent products, they set about building a corporate presence dwarfing any other company in Equestria. (Cookie had long pondered the idea of corporations, but like advertising, had dismissed the idea as easily spiralling out of control and not to the benefit of the common good. What had changed, he couldn't quite say; just that, standing in Applejack's kitchen and staring at her sardonic smirk, a wire had sparked within him, cracking the whip on an engine he hadn't know he'd had.)
A few decades passed quickly, so absorbed in the work was Cookie, and it felt like no time at all had passed before Apple Family Inc. had the resources to buy the land necessary for the creation of its own independent state.
"Two can play at this game, Celestia," Cookie thought to himself, misty-eyed, as he signed the contracts sealing the deal and officially creating Apple Land. "Two can play at this game."
elementAggregator's Golden Rule (Estee's "Yellow Immortality")
...you see it's irrefutable, It's fixed in fact immutable- Your senses, they don't trick or lie; That's what you see in your mind's eye.
Tawny. Amber. Beige and hazel, It's an accurate appraisal; Your past is truly cast in hues Bereft of greens and reds and blues.
A palette made up of close fellows. Their common trait is taint by yellows. That's the chroma key supreme: That golden glow, that shine, that gleam.
Our universe's endless essence: A transcendent iridescence. A cliché theme to all our sagas; All our alphas, and omegas.
But surely there were always others? Magenta, mauve and all their brothers. Cobalt rivers, deep jade glens. Those must still have existed then!
Violet violets! Rosey roses! Mint green mint held to our noses! No, we can't have simply lost That turquoise tint of window frost!
A childhood with every scene Awash from pink to octarine! The autumn colours numbered millions! A world dyed in deep vermilions!
They're all right here and plain to see! They can't just *now* have chose to be! So yellow is the one true *Prime*. But why so peerless in past time?
Well here's the heart of your confusion: Your memory's a grand illusion. You forgot most of what you've lived; Drained away, a leaky sieve.
We've *barely* the capacity, No matter our tenacity, To give more than a shaky hunch Of what we even had for lunch.
Each picture of your history, The losses, ties, and victories Are fabricated recollections. And wholly holey self-reflections.
When asked to audit life's receipts, Your mind just shrugs and simply cheats. Your eyes take stock of what's around, And crib a story from what's found.
Built from parts that still exist, You are your past... and missing bits. You're all that's left, what gets to stay When all but yellow fades away.
SIGAWESOME's (and Stanisław Lem's) Cross-Product Lovers (Georg's "Twilight Sparkle Makes a Coltfriend... Literally")
Slipstick stared into Twilight's eyes from across the dinner table at The Sunflower Grove; an establishment so exclusive that royalty was put on a 4 week waiting list; Cadance had pulled a few strings and called in some favours to secure Twilight a reservation for her very first date.
Most ponies never associated love with tensor algebra, but Slipstick was an accomplished disciple of the Masters and knew the classics by heart. He recited a sonnet in his velvet tenor that was sure to impress his date:
"Come, let us hasten to a higher plane Where dyads tread the fairy fields of Venn, Their indices bedecked from one to n Commingled in an endless Markov chain!
"Come, every frustrum longs to be a cone And every vector dreams of matrices. Hark to the gentle gradient of the breeze: It whispers of a more ergodic zone.
"In Riemann, Hilbert or in Banach space Let superscripts and subscripts go their ways. Our asymptotes no longer out of phase, We shall encounter, counting, face to face.
"I'll grant thee random access to my heart, Thou'lt tell me all the constants of thy love; And so we two shall all love's lemmas prove, And in our bound partition never part.
"For what did Cauchy know, or Christoffel, Or Fourier, or any Bools or Euler, Wielding their compasses, their pens and rulers, Of thy supernal sinusoidal spell?
"Cancel me not - for what then shall remain? Abscissas some mantissas, modules, modes, A root or two, a torus and a node: The inverse of my verse, a null domain.
"Ellipse of bliss, converge, O lips divine! The product of our scalars is defined! Cyberiad draws nigh, and the skew mind Cuts capers like a happy haversine.
"I see the eigenvalue in thine eye, I hear the tender tensor in thy sigh. Bernoulli would have been content to die, Had he but known such a2 cos(2) φ !"
Twlight's cheeks flushed as she fanned herself with her hoof.
"Is that The Perfumed Garden of Linear Algebra I hear? Why Mr. Slipstick, are you trying to seduce your Princess?"
Slipstick stared back with a sultry smirk and a smouldering, hooded gaze more commonly associated with top-shelf romance novel covers. But this was so achingly, longingly real and not an idle fantasy.
"Do you feel seduced, my Princess?"
"Oh ho~! What say we go back to my castle for a Study Session?"
"Study session?"
"Mmhmm~ I have the complete unabridged collection of Sutra Mathematica"
"The Perfumed Garden of Linear Algebra?" asked Slipstick, hardly believing his ears.
Twilight nodded. "A first edition printing. I also have Bound and Derived: Sensuously Steamy Set Studies, Ergodic Confessions of Riemannian Manifolds. I even," Twilight dropped her voice down to a conspiratorial whisper, "have The Joys of Tantric Differential Analysis. The one with all the lemmas~" she added with a wink.
Slipstick's eyes nearly bugged out of his head in disbelieving shock. No mare, especially one of Twilight's intelligence, stature, and stature, had ever been interested in him and shared his passions. He squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, struggling to remain decent.
Twilight say his reaction and decided to go for the kill. She leaned across the table and whispered huskily into Slipstick's ear, her warm breath causing his ear to twitch.
"I even have the fifth volume we could read together. The full, unedited version with Haversine's Last Theorem~"
Slipstick closed his eyes and bit down on his lower lip in an effort to suppress a groan. He almost lost control and started enumerating Galois fields of prime order at the dinner table. In public!
"Wow! Just...wow." He took a few calming breaths to regain his composure.
"Wait..." Slipstick cocked his head to the side. "I thought the fifth volume was forbidden?"
Twilight giggled behind her hoof and ruffled her wings. "Princess, remember? I have access to all sorts of things~! So how about it? Interested in doing some research?"
The corporation of Slipstick held an emergency quorum. Hormones did not even review the proposal before hastily voting "yay" on general principle. Brain gave it a cursory, perfunctory glance, tossed it aside and whole-heartedly supported Hormones' motion in a rare show of consensus. Verdict reached and motion unanimously passed, Slipstick blinked and rapidly nodded his head "yes" as he doofily grinned like a teen-aged colt at the end of prom.
"Oh yes! Very much yes! I haven't been this excited since I was invited a keynote speaker to the Truth of Tau: Purging Pi's Patriarchal Past conference."
"What."
"Yeah! Tau. I seek to free my fellow ponies from the old, outdated notions of Pi and show them the one true freedom in Tau!"
Twilight flashed a searing, actinic white in rage as her mane and tail erupted in flame.
"GET. OUT."
SIGAWESOME's Friendship is Kludged (Georg's "Twilight Sparkle Makes a Coltfriend... Literally")
It is a deep-seated fear in the modern Equestrian psyche. Ponies' films and literature are rife with cautionary, apocalyptic tales of monstrously cold, indifferent intelligences that use their vast hyper-intelligence to crush all pony-kind under their logical rule, an electron-shod silicon hoof stomping upon the face of equinity for all eternity. Ponies fear what they do not understand, and thanks to the revolution in Artifical Constructs spearheaded by Princess Twilight, technology has far surpassed the ability of any one pony to comprehend in its entirety.
Speculative fiction writers and governmental think-tanks certainly paint a grim, bleak picture for the future, but in actuality, reality is much different. All "evil golem, mastermind overlord/overlady" stories have one fatal flaw in common when it comes to real world applications: they never take into account how those constructs are created and maintained.
The reality is that all of Equestria's (and by extension Equus's) thaumaturgical sentient constructs are created, programmed, and maintained by legions of green (as in "inexperienced" , not "green the colour") minimum-wage magi fresh out of university and lowest bidder off-shore thaumic engineers from Yakyakistan. The resulting blobs of spaghetti-runes, constructs, and code cargo-culted copy and pasted around different projects with little understanding on how it works creates thaumaturgical code base for golems that is not so much "engineered" so much as "grown" (like a tumour).
Incompatible, proprietary protocols and thaumic resonances. Syntax errors. Improperly folded ley-lines. Corrupted configurations files. Smudged runes. Lack of unit testing and a "developmestuction" process of deploying hot patches to live systems. All these factors mean that artificial sentient constructs are less a cooperate cabal of cold, logical intellect and more a loose group of mentally stunted idiot-savants hyped up on amphetamines. The slip-shod, corner-cutting magical incantations along with Equestria's high background radiation also ensures that ponies' neuroses get imprinted on developing artificial constructs.
The end result is that autonomous carriage-pullers develop a penchant for quoting lengthy passages of Spear Shaker in a Hockney accent, surveillance sprites form a taste for daytime soap-operas, and the less said about the perverse fetishes of intelligent light fixtures, the better ("Celling Light is watching you clop!") Only the Flim-Flamco® brand HAL-9001 model "smart" oven minders retain enough engineered intelligence to make a credible threat to take over the planet, but due to hardware limitations, they have to content themselves with occasionally burning some poor sod's breakfast toast.
There are no O(n!) algorithms, no mana buffer underflows, no misconfigured runes, or syntax errors in the land of magic and silicon. Any malign intelligence was already irrevocably doomed the first time a fresh batch of new work-experience interns were called upon to update the systems under a deadline with hastily copy and pasted components. It was inevitable. By the toil of thousands of neophyte magi and thaumaturgical technicians with millions upon millions of lines of patches and magical incantations, ponies have secured their birthright of Equestria, and it is hers against all artificial constructs; it would still be hers were the golems ten times as mighty.
SIGAWESOME's A Match Made by Murphy (Georg's "Twilight Sparkle Makes a Coltfriend... Literally")
Nurse Redheart spun around and glared at Pinkie who was currently dressed in a spiked blue mohawk and reflective shades. Pinkie had what appeared to be a turntable and multichannel synthesizer/mixer plugged into the beeping, flashing equipment beside the hospital bed. She gave the turntable a quick spin, causing a warbling, trilling wail.
"DJ PONK@ IN DA HOOUUSSEEE!"
"Pinkie!" she scolded. "This is an intensive care ward! Not an EDM rave! Would you kindly stop messing with Twilight's equipment?"
Pinkie folded up her turntable and synthesizer into her mane and pronked over to where Fluttershy and Rarity were standing.
Redheart rubbed the bridge of her muzzle in exasperation.
Celestia banish it, why do these things always happen before I get to go on break?
"Ok! From the top!" She pointed a hoof at Rarity. "You said she came to you for advice concerning a stallion?"
Rarity nodded. "That is correct. The poor dear was in quite a state. It seems she finally found a perfect stallion, but circumstances were keeping them apart."
Redheart nodded sagely. "I certainly hope so! I told him to keep Twilight out during non-visiting hours"
"Beg pardon?"
Suspicious Circumstances, one of the security guards here at PGMC. Twilight was making a nuisance of herself, so I had Mr. Circumstances escort her out with orders not to allow her into the wards until the next visiting hours."
"Oh."
"Oh?" Redheart looked askance at Rarity.
Rarity nervously pawed the laminate floor with her hoof. "I may have said something to the effect of 'Not even fate can keep true love separated. True love finds a way to scale any wall, overcome any obstacle'. I did not realise she would take it so literally."
"Right". Redheart pointed at Pinkie. "She came to you for for help, yes?"
Pinkie bounced in place excitedly. "Yeppers! Twilight came all sad and grumpy-wumpy and I asked her what was wrong and she said that she need me to make a special recipe of the worst, most awfulest Baked Bads I could so she could go to the hospital to be with her 'True Love' because that's what Rarity says and that true loves would not be kept by circumstance or Circumstances so I made her the worst Baked Bads I could think of even though the Cakes said I was not allowed after the last time, but Twilight's a princess so I had to listen to her so I made them with raisins, okra, broccoli, and oatmeal, because I knew she was going a bit loco in the coco and I even use carob beans which everypony says tastes like chocolate, but it really is a lie and tastes like sadness and disappointment and I baked them in the oven for—"
"Right right right! I think I get the picture." She stared at the oesophageal tube pumping the contents out of Twilight's stomach. "Before today, I wasn't aware that alicorns could get poisoned..."
"Fluttershy!"
*eep!*
"Can you explain that?" Redheart asked, pointing with her hoof.
"That" was a mass of stitches, sutures, and scrapes criss-crossing Twilight's face, head, neck, and muzzle.
"Um, she flew over to the cottage and blew a raspberry on Angel Bunny's tummy while he was sleeping."
Redheart's eyes boggled. "Are you telling me that Princess Twilight was savaged by a little rabbit?"
"Um, he gets...cranky when you startle him awake from his nap."
Redheart's rejoiner was interrupted by a pained groan from Twilight's bed.
Rarity was the first to spin around. "Girls! Girls! She's finally awake!"
"Uughh...! Where...where am I?"
"You are in the Critical Care ward of Ponyville General Medical Centre. You are stable now, but you gave all of us quite a scare."
Twilight tried to focus her eyes on the voices and shapes to her side. Everything was all muzzy, and fuzzy, and wobbly. "What happened? What's wrong with me?"
Redheart sighed, reached into her saddlebag, and withdrew a thick scroll.
*thump!* *swish* *swish* *swish*
The bottom of the scroll hit the ground with an impressively solid sound, rolled across the floor, and out the door.
Redheart put on a pair of spectacles and stared at the top of the diagnosis in her hoof. "I think it would be easier to enumerate what isn't wrong. According to your diagnosis, you aren't pregnant and you don't have testicular cancer."
She stared down at Twilight over the tops of her spectacles. "You have a lengthy convalescence ahead of you, Princess. At least three to four months."
"Oh." Twilight paused thoughtfully. "Well, can I at least see Pyro then?"
"The high-altitude flyer? Only during visiting hours; he was checked out five hours ago."
Georg's Jumping the Game Shark (Asphodel Frost's "Twilight Levels Up")
"I just don't understand," said Twilight Sparkle, nearly inaudible due to the amount of frosting on the cupcake. "There are so many options with leveling up, which I didn't even know was possible. I could have even picked Increased Cupcake Consumption to go up the Cake tree, which I noticed Celestia had cleared right up to the top."
"It's a mystery," said Pinkie Pie from behind nearly a dozen cupcakes crammed into her face.
Twilight stopped, then very slowly turned to her friend. "Wait a minute. I recognized some of those points as things you do. There's even an Unexplainable Precognition talent, but it's several links up the chain. How—"
"Cheat codes, duh!" Pinkie Pie finished stuffing the rest of the cupcakes into her mouth, gave a massive swallow, and bounded up onto Twilight's back. "Let me see here, since you're got a horn, this should be easy. Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B—
"Ow!" Twilight winced at the hoof in the eye she had just gotten.
"—and A," Pinkie finished with a boop on the nose.
One explosion of confetti and familiar fireworks later, Twilight found herself staring at the skill tree with "Level 100" floating above her.
"Oh, nuts," she muttered when Celestia's tree flickered into life nearby. "How am I going to explain this?"
FoME's Outshining Flash (Jordan179's "Analyzing Some Suggested Ships")
Twilight Velvet and Night Light traded a look. "That's... certainly interesting, Sparkle," said Night Light.
"Especially the time-space magic involved," added Velvet.
"Yes, especially that. But... well, you don't have to outdo your brother with everything."
Twilight had plotted out every conceivable reaction her parents might have had to the news of her boyfriend being... well, a boy, and had planned her responses accordingly. That hadn't been one of them, and so all she could say was "Huh?"
"The pattern's plain to see, dear," said Night Light. "Your brother gets into West Hoof a year early, you become Celestia's personal student. He becomes Captain of the Guard, you become the Bearer of Magic. He marries an alicorn, you become an alicorn."
"I... But... I'm not trying to—"
Velvet raised a hoof. "It's okay, dear. Your major achievements don't have to upend Equestria as we know it. You're allowed to fall for a nice stallion without any fanfare, ancient evils, or alternate dimensions."
"But I—" Sparkle cut herself off as a wing jerkily spread across her withers.
"Let's go with it," Flash whispered to her. "Unless you want to explain the wireless router you set up next to the portal."
Twilight felt herself flush. "You're the one who missed Webflix."
Caliaponia's Royal in the Hay (Pony with a Pen's "Celestia Has a Lot of Sex")
The air shimmered, and the two guards vanished, leaving a pair of flustered alicorns in their places. Luna's eyes danced with laughter, while Twilight's blush was almost incandescent.
"Orgies," Celestia repeated, resisting the almost magnetic attraction that had grown between her hoof and her muzzle.
Luna shrugged. "It was the best I could come up with at the spur of the moment."
Celestia sighed. "It's just as well Cadance didn't notice your arrival, but how did you even know to come?"
Twilight looked up from her study of the floor long enough to reply. "Err, Shiny can get, well, loquacious sometimes when he's inspecting the miniatures, and he was considering a siren temptress when, umm..." she trailed off.
"Say no more," Celestia snorted, before fixing the two of them with a look. "Well, you may have satisfied Cadance for the time being, but now she expects us to bed our guards. Any plans for that?"
Two pairs of ears wilted, and Celestia's hoof lost it's battle to stay apart from her brow.
horizon's Critical Review (Georg's "Jumping the Game Shark")
"You're 'checking out endgame content for review purposes'?" Celestia repeated.
Twilight nodded, her smile growing wider, a bead of sweat trickling down her face.
"... Endgame content."
"How will ponies know what awesome high-level perks to aspire to if somepony hasn't evaluated all the options?" Twilight said.
"For review purposes," Celestia said, arching an eyebrow.
"Friendship letters."
Celestia stared.
Twilight smiled harder.
Celestia held her dubious expression for a moment longer, then burst out giggling. "Oh my gosh. That is an amazing excuse. I'm impressed."
Twilight blinked.
"I may have to borrow it for when ponies start asking how I got to level 100."
Twilight opened and closed her mouth. She tried to push words through. "You didn't grind?" was all that came out.
"Oh stars no. Luna was the one doing all the sidequests for 100% completion. I wouldn't have even been able to finish the Level 6 Diamond Dog Dungeon raids if she hadn't given me all the ultra-rare loot she picked up. While she was grinding, I just faffed around and learned how to break physics to climb unclimbable mountains." Celestia gestured around. "Which is why the capital's way up here."
"... Okay," Twilight said. "So, um, how did you get to level 100?"
"Confidentially? Up, up, down, down —"
"Okay. Wrong question. Why."
Celestia shrugged. "Luna got bored and enabled PVP."
"Honey," Flash said, "we need to talk," and Twilight's heart squeezed into a cold little ball. Which didn't un-knot any when he added, "About what your parents said."
"I do love you," she said desperately. "This was never about outdoing Shiny."
He brushed her cheek with a hoof and gazed into her eyes with a smile. "I believe you," he said softly.
Twilight let out a breath. "But."
"I believe you about the love." He bit his lip, then pressed on. "I even believe this isn't a conscious thing. But we need to face facts. Your parents were right. You're a one-mare outdoing engine."
"That's not true!" Twilight said. "Maybe it looks that way, but—"
"Twilight," Flash said, "I asked Shining Armor to falsely announce he'd created a ponio vaccine. Two days later you'd submitted a paper to a biochemical journal with a working cure for cancer."
Twilight opened and closed her mouth. Tears brimmed at the corner of her eyes.
Flash grinned and nuzzled her neck. "Don't cry, silly. That. Is. Awesome."
"... What," Twilight said, all other words having temporarily fled.
"Don't you see? We just proved we can use this. The last thing we want is for you to stop."
"B-but, but, I'm hurting him—"
Flash gently pressed fingers to her lips. "Are you kidding? Shiny's thrilled. 'Not only is my life amazing beyond belief,' he said, 'but I've got a sister who can fix the world's problems on command.' And as for me? I can't think of a bigger honor than to be that mare's special someboy."
Twilight laughed despite herself, and lunged into Flash's waiting arms, clinging to him until her emotions settled.
"What next?" she finally asked.
"Cadance sent him to broker a cease-fire in the Orlov-Lipizzian war," Flash said. "Next stop, world peace."
Masterweaver's Live and Let Write (Crimmar's "A Life of Fiction")
Another hoof reaches out and touches her wing. This one is pink.
"Everything is a story, Twilight. Good, or bad, or just random, every life is a story, every universe is a story. It doesn't make them any less real. They tell stories, and the stories match up to universes—and there's no beginning or end, really, it just happens. Sometimes people fall into worlds that look like their stories. Sometimes people like to explore depraved possibility with those that... they do not consider to be real. Because they aren't real, not in their universe, never mind that they are elsewhere. Imagination runs wild, and not always nice."
"Who are you?" asks Twilight.
"There are so many ways I can answer that question. And frankly, that's what is going on here. Many of these Twilights aren't really... well, Twilight, in anything but name. Because they do not understand you. You're listening to a large number, yes, but not... not nearly as many as there are, because many stories go unwritten. You're listening to a community, and there is bad, but there is also good. Those worlds are real, and this machine is pointing you to them, but only through the filter of the stories it can find."
"Can they stop?"
"... Can you stop reading? Or researching? Can you stop using magic for the rest of your life? These stories are written, sometimes in passing, sometimes as passion. No, you will never reach enough for them to stop. But there are others, like you and me, who are aware of the stories. Who have learned how to filter them. Some are Twilights, like you. Many are Pinkies. This will not bring you peace, Twilight, because you ask them to stop what they cannot, and none... almost none... will hear and respond. You must find your filter. And... those who hear, will help."
"How do you know that?" Twilight demands, spinning around.
Princess Twilight groaned and slumped until her chin rested against the map table. "Why couldn't this thing come with a manual?"
"Well," said Spike as he came in, holding a mug of Twilight's favorite calming tea, "it did come from a tree."
"A magical crystalline tree with unfathomable magical powers!"
"But a tree. How would you feel about giving someone a stack of, I don't know, deli meat with words on it?"
Twilight shuddered. Going into that sandwich shop in the human world had not been a wise decision, no matter what her tongue had told her at the time. She tried to wash the memory out of her mouth with tea, with middling success. "Point taken. But that still doesn't address the current problem."
Instead of a map of Equestria with Starlight's cutie mark trying to beat its way inside the castle, now the table just showed two lines of text spinning in place.
Out of Bounds Exception Please reinstall universe and restart
"Sister? Pray tell what are you doing up at such a late hour?" Luna asked as she trotted up to her fellow alicorn. Her jawline thinned as she saw the portrait Celestia was staring at. The Bearers sitting around...
"The table again? Sister you know as well as I that time travel—"
"I know, Luna. I know," Celestia replied, her eyes unmoving from where they gazed. "I know as well as anypony how foolish such magic is."
"Then why? Why that mare? You did what you could, she wasn't..." Luna bit her tongue. She had long ago learned the sting of words. Sadly, it appeared she was too late this time.
"She was nopony, correct? Not even a footnote in history. Just a long forgotten victim of a terrible time." Now Celestia's gaze finally broke from the picture, so her eyes could stare at Luna. With a gasp the darker alicorn realized her sister had been crying.
"I remember her, Luna. I remember them all. Every pony I couldn't help, every pony I couldn't save. It's funny, isn't it? You'd think after all these years I could forget. The pain does fade... a little, at least. Her eyes, though. That pleading look, the rope. I've often wondered if there was something else I could have done. Some other way to help her..."
"Sister..." Luna sighed. Neither of them had been good to the other back then. "Why her, though? Why is it this pony that vexes you so?"
"Because she was the one that made me truly realize how much I had failed as her princess, then later as your sister. It was not long after that I lost you as well."
Luna winced. She didn't particularly enjoy remembering that part of her life, but if there was one good thing that had come of it, it was that she and her sister had managed to grow as siblings. Now she truly felt she had a 'sister' and not a 'keeper'.
"But I returned, sister, and our relationship is ever stronger now. The past is just that, the past. Your former student helped me learn that."
"Yes... Twilight has always been a clever one. I bet she could have helped Sorrel."
"Celestia, you have to stop this. You can't help her now. Her time came and went. It's tragic what became of her, but there is nothing we can do."
"I- I know, Luna, I know. I'm sorry; I guess I'm just being silly again." She felt Luna nuzzle her, filling her with warmth.
"You are not silly to want to help our subjects, but you have to let this one go. Now come. I'll have our cooks prepare us some breakfast." Then with a grin she added: "Unless thou wouldst like me to try my hoof again."
That got a snort out of Celestia. "No thanks. I think we'll leave it to the professionals." She returned her sister's smile. "Just... give me a few more minutes.
"Very well," Luna sighed, "but you had better not keep us waiting for long."
Celestia promised she wouldn't and kept her smile up as she watched her sister make her way to the kitchen. Once Luna was out of sight, the frown returned as Celestia returned her attention to the picture. She knew it was foolish. She knew the dangers and just how reckless such thoughts were. She knew that, and yet...
"Tell me, Sorrel Lace," she whispered to the ceiling, "if I had been the princess I should have been back then... If I had found a way to save you...
"Would you have accepted my friendship?"
Latrans's Cherry Berry: Astromare! #1 (Kris Overstreet's "The Maretian")
Do not underestimate me. I have battled the worst demons of Tartarus!1 I have bent the very laws of our world with my bare hooves!2 My mere presence has cowed trained warriors into submission!3 I have stood over the prone form of Queen Chrysalis4, and now command more power within the changeling swarms than any pony in known history!5 I have strapped myself to explosives and been launched beyond the grasp of our world!6 I have traveled beyond the known plane of existence and walked on worlds beyond our universe!7 I returned to Equis in a fifteen-hundred-degree cloak of shock-heated plasma!8 I am Cherry Berry: Astromare!
Chrysalis re-read the caption. Then she turned it upside down and read it again. She turned it right side up again. She blinked, hoping that her eyes were deceiving her. They weren't. On the cover, prominently attached to the caption stood a cartoonish image that may, at one point, have been based on the loose idea of CSP's lead pilot. Unfortunately her proportions were better likened to an exaggerated supermodel in a suit that made Wonderbolt uniforms look positively baggy. She stood, holding a fishbowl helmet under one leg, on a cratered and rocky surface somewhere in space. Behind her stood stylized versions of CSP's more prominent members (and a few she didn't recognize). Precisely none of them had vacuum-appropriate gear on.
"OCCUPANT!!!"
A moment later a buck-toothed changeling poked his head through the door. "Yes, my queen?"
"What. Is THIS?!?" Chrysalis slapped the comic book down on her desk.
"A, um, a comic book? Cherry Berry: Astromare issue one, I believe."
"And why, pray tell, does it even exist?" the queen snarled.
Occupant fidgeted and did his best to hide the edges of a rather familiar comic book back under his vest without actually acknowledging its existence. "Well... you see... there was this contract, and um, it payed well and didn't require any expenditure on our part, and the other changelings all thought it was the best thing since the Fun Machine and I tried to not let word get out, but Lucky Cricket got past me with a proof copy and now they all want their own copies and then Goddard saw it and hasn't stopped cackling for two days and please don't tell Cherry."
Chrysalis held a level glare at the smaller changeling the entire time. She didn't even twitch when he nearly passed out from lack of breath. "Do you know what you've done? Every drone in the hive is going to want to do every half-baked, irresponsible, insane, impossible thing depicted in this wholly fictitious rag of lies! We get enough of that already! We don't need someone actively thinking up new ideas for them! At least it's just the one."
"Well... um... about that..."
1 Tirek won. It sucked. 2 Her home-built biplane. 3 The CSP prototype crew module had failed to meet some9 of her expectations. 4 Chrysalis had not been as prepared for her first ride in the centrifuge as she had hoped. 5 Several members of non-pony species within the CSP management hold more changelings under their authority than Cherry does as a pilot. 6 Rockets: barely controlled explosion in a tube. 7 Comments made after her return suggest that she felt additional testing of the Sparkle Drive should probably have been performed before use on a crewed flight. 8 Moving at 33 times the speed of sound does impressive things to the air. 9 All of them, even a number of them she didn't even realize she had.
Airy Words's Dry-Roasted Humor (Georg's "Her Royal Morning Coffee")
Dry Roast felt his molars rattle in their sockets from the slap on his back administered by Shining Armor. The stallion’s laughter made the sting of the resulting bruise and terror of offending “The Family” abate somewhat. The coffee maker determined that good-natured jocularity meant something more... painful when your drinking partner was a former Captain of the Royal Guard and one of the strongest spellcasters in living memory. Dry raised his head slightly and pulled his cheeks into a not-very-convincing grin.
It seemed to be good enough, though. “Yeah, leave it to Twily to make getting her first kiss inponyingly complicated and with two scoops of...” Shining leaned back and looked down at his front hooves, now held in front of him, chest-width apart, “...denial...” shaking his left hoof “... and rationalization,” shaking his right. He looked back at his drinking companion. “Well, I’m sorry that she’s put you through all this drama. Twilight, for all that we love her, is not the most self-aware pony in the world, and now it’s coming back to bite her in the plot.”
Dry’s breath caught on his throat and his whole body tensed.
Despite his current inebriated state, Shining apparently saw this. He waved a hoof apologetically. “Not meaning literally, of course.”
Air returned to Dry’s lungs and doubtless blood resumed flowing in his veins.
Shining leaned closer, in what Dry supposed was intended to be a friendly, comfortable manner. “So ... now that you’ve had a chance to interact with her when she was awake, what are your first impressions?”
The proprietor’s mind cleared and entered a state of “Flow” that normally could only be achieved by meditation gurus or the perfect pairing of customer to java variety and preparation. Either would take years of strenuous effort, yet the wonder of the experience was lost on Dry. In his heart, he knew the wrong answer could awaken the protective beast now slumbering next to him, and there would be no time or opportunity to take it back. After a few seconds that felt like hours, he took the plunge with the most honest answer he could conceive.
“Well, she’s a much nicer pony when she’s asleep than when she’s awake.”
Shining Armor froze, looking off at some unknown point in the distance. Dry considered his chance at escaping during this momentary distraction, but ultimately decided the odds now looked slightly better right here.
“You know,” began Shining, “I’ve heard my sister described a bunch of different ways throughout the years, but this is certainly the first time I’ve heard that.”
FoME's Character Flaws (Masterweaver's THE QUEST FOR GLORY!)
Spike glared as Twilight teleported in a character sheet. "Twilight, we talked about this."
She offered a smile, or at least exposed teeth. "Come on, we already have an oversized party. What harm could it do?"
He crossed his arms. "The last time you played Amaranth, she one-shot the boss so hard it set my campaign notes on fire. Literally."
"Let Trixie guess," guessed Trixie, "typical glory-hogging wizard doing literally everything just because she can."
Twilight snickered. "Please, I outgrew wizards back before my brother stopped letting me play with his group."
"You have a brother?" said Trixie.
"My point is that magic is a crutch for optimizers—"
Spike coughed in a way that sounded suspiciously like "Munchkins."
"Optimizers who want to take the easy route to winning O&O." After a moment, Twilight added, "Besides, the actual magic system is laughable. Yak Stance might have been an incredible fantasy writer, but he was no thaumologist."
"Um..." Fluttershy raised a wing. "How do you win at Ogres and Oubliettes? I thought it was like playing a story."
"It is," said Spike, "unless you're somepony like Twilight. Then it's a math problem to solve. Like how to get one of the least physically capable races to deal triple-digit damage with one swing of her sword."
"All Trixie got from that is that she'll be better at magic than Sparkle in the game. Trixie approves!"
FoME's Primary Source (Mitch H's "The Mare Of The Stool")
"I said no. I am not allowing anypony to wait for me to do my business like I'm their pet cat."
"But the nation's economy—"
"Already has three alicorns producing, all of whom, I will note, have physically larger bladders and kidneys."
"But the danger—"
"Even before I ascended, I was Celestia's personal student, the Bearer of Magic, and the sister of the Prince-Consort of the Crystal Empire nee captain of the Royal Guard. I am barely a higher-level target now than I was before the wings. Oh, and I was looking after a dragon practically from the day I hatched him. Believe me, I know how to deal with physical byproducts safely. Honestly, if you want to be useful, go talk to my friends. I still can't get them to burn their hoof trimmings."
"You do have to make allowances for commoners, Your Highness. But with the aqua princips—"
"You'll get whatever I'll have left."
"... Your Highness?"
"I now produce one of the most valuable arcane reagents in the world without even trying. I'm calling dibs."
FoME's Dear Princess Cesium-137 (Tumbleweed's "Letters from an Irradiated Princess")
Gargantulon is quite happy on Monster Island, which thanks to its Everfree-like self-sustaining ecosystem, is putting up an admirable but futile struggle against my glorious creation
Dear Princess Celestia,
Gargantulon and Monster Island appear to agree with each other quite nicely. Given the half-life of his radioactive aura, it should be safe for pony visitation within the decade. On that note, I have a plan for the leavings, provided that my hypothesis about your connection to the Sun giving you immunity to any form of harmful radiation is correct. If not, I have several other plans, though none of them will be quite as enlighteningfun expeditious.
Also, Rainbow Dash says that if we don't want her naming things, we should name them first.
Your fellow princess, Twilight Sparkle
SIGAWESOME's The Five M's of War (totallynotabrony's "The Domestication of Violence")
A time-traveling mare from an alternate future once quipped "War. War never changes". She was half right.
Certainly the aim and end of war has remained constant. After all, what is war but a forcible imposition of one's will upon an opponent (including the case where your will is simply that she not impose hers on you)? Ponies have been forcing their will on their fellow neighbours and Doing Unto Others As They Would Not Have Done To Themselves from time immemorial, ever since paleopony Og gazed with covetous eyes upon the prime grazing patch her neighbour Thag occupied.
While the nature of war has not changed, the tools by which it is waged has thanks to the Thaumaturgical Revolution. Equestrian military machinery and materiel can be grouped into five main categories: the Mundane, the Meterological, the Magical, the Mechanical, and the Munchies. ["Munchies"? Seriously? — Ed.][I was hungry and we needed the alliteration, and I could not go on lunch break until this was complete, OK? — Sigawesome] In some cases this was an incremental refinement and evolution of existing weapons, in others a complete paradigm shift.
Mundane weapons are the oldest and least changed of Equestria's armoury. They are simple, brutally efficient tools for enhancing a pony's natural reach and power. They require no special magic to wield aside from some basic hoof-eye coordination and are readily employed by ponies of all tribes. All Mundane weapons can trace their roots back to the four basic weapon archetypes (some lineages are more torturous than others): a large, solid stick for hitting things, a pointy stick for poking things, a large rock for bashing things, and a knapped, edged rock for cutting things. More modern versions include crystal shocklances, wing blades, hoof-claws, tail flail meteor hammers, glaives, segmented bō staves, weighted hoof-guards, and horn-blades.
Meterological weapons have also existed as long as Equestrian ponies have lived on Equus and are a natural extension of a species with an affinity for weather manipulation like the entire Pegasus tribe and select Earth ponies and Unicorns with weather related Cutie-Marks. Weather related weaponry ranged from personal static bolts and bottled microbursts, to squad automatic Cloud-Hammers and crew-served Thunderheads, up to battalions of hurricane wranglers and blizzard jockeys. Cloud structures feature prominently with Equestrian military skylift, logistics, and C2ISTAR with Stratiform supply and stand-off clusters, Cumulonimbiform forward mobile bases, and high altitude NLC recon sheets. Weather magic also lead to the creation of the WEATHER VANE theatre defence shields (named (officially) after the rooftop implement due to its shape and (unofficially) after the deviant sexual practice because "it fks with the enemy's weather!").
Magic weapons are perhaps historically the most famous (if not the most "flashy") of Equestria's arsenal. While commonly employed by unicorns due to their natural, biological advantages, a non-insignificant number of pegasi and earth ponies also practice magic. Spells ranged from the massive and strategic (the Celestial Solar Flare, the Crystal Theatre Defence Shield, and the Elements of Harmony), to the tactical (Sonic Rainboom, teleportation, and Cloud Walk), to the esoteric (Time Travel, Want It-Need It, and Rubber Duckie (records have been sealed pending a war crimes investigation tribunal)). When it came to the war effort, no spell was considered too simple, not caster too unskilled. Ponies found new and inventive uses for spells that any other being would have dismissed out of hoof for being "too silly"; simple light cantrips were used to pump laser weapons, balloon popping spells adapted to create fearsome ballotechnic anti-everything warheads, and mundane tailoring spells were weaponised to create the dreaded cursed lingerie favoured by Equestria's fearsome "Rouge Cell" special operations teams (unit motto: "Strike fast, leave a pretty corpse". They were quite literally on the cutting edge of fashion).
The Mechanical weapons were the first that created an new paradigm in the Art of War. The mundane, meteorological, and magic weapons were incremental developments to weapons, tactics, and techniques that have existed since time immemorial; mechanical weapons are a entirely new class precipitated by the recent modern advances brought about by the Thaumaturgical Revolution. Earth pony inventiveness, mechanical aptitude, and industriousness lead to the complete modernisation and mechanisation of Equestria's military forces at a rate never before seen in any other sapient race. The technological boost was not limited to weapons alone; were Equestrians reduced to fighting with mere stones and pebbles, they would still maintain an overwhelming Strength Gradient thanks to a logistics transportation chain powered by the new internal thaumic engines. Like magic weapons, mechanical arms ranged from the strategic, like the Iron Charger Siege Dreadnought and Ballistic Undertaker Titan Tank, to the tactical, like the Crystal Power Armour and heat-seeking anti-dragon PONPADS. Probably the most influential mechanical weapon is the gun and gun-harness which allowed ponies of all races, sexes, and builds to project accurate, lethal force at a distance at a fraction of the effort of a mundane or magical weapon. As the famous quote goes, "Faust the Elder made ponies, but Braeburn made them equal".
Mechanical, meteorological, and magic weapons tend to hog to spotlight and headlines (nations tend to sit up and take notice when a battalion of 80 metre mechas or a 80 kilometre wall-cloud fortress enters their territory after all), but they direct scrutiny away from Equestria's true technological achievement: the Munchies. Weapons based on food may appear daft as a box of frogs, but any Equestrian commander will tell you it is no laughing matter. As the famous Prench pegasus general Neighpoleon commented, "an army flies on its stomach", and having the technology to weaponise food gives the Equestrian military and enormous advantage. The logistics savings alone allow pony battalions to strike out further, faster, and with more force that any of their neighbours could ever possibly hope to bring to bear. Thanks to an intensive research and development programme (and not a little bit of political lobbying by the Military-Agricultiral complex), the most advanced munchie munition is the humble apple and all its culinary derivatives. Apple pies, apple fritters, apple strudel, apple crumble, apple sauce, apple jam, apple preserves, apple slices, apple juice, apple cider each more nutritious and destructive than the last. Culinary military research has also recently began to branch out into baked goods, adding more tasty meals and effective ammunition for Equestrian soldiers.
The sheer variety and efficacy of Equestrian military and war technology may come as a shock to casual observer who naïvely expects pretty pastel ponies to be pacifistic push-overs. The historian would point out that these weapons should come as no surprise; they are, after all, what allow Equestrians to defend their right to live a pacifistic life surrounded by carnivorous and omnivorous sapients, mad demigods, and megafauna large enough to appear on survey maps. No, the real surprise is that once Equestria rallied after the initial invasion campaign and marshaled their full skills and talent into the war effort, that there was anybeing left alive to negotiate a surrender...
In an unrelated note, rumour has it that the future mare inked out a lucrative publishing contract with A. K. Yearling to produce a best-selling novel and literary spin-off series...
Kencolt's Ana-vism (Majin Syeekoh's "Trixie's Nap Hole")
"And then, she was going on about 'Nap Holes'. I think I got that cleared out, more or less, but... honestly! I mean, have you ever heard of anything like that?" Starlight was giggling a bit as she related the tale to her teacher, mentor, and first real friend after her bout with—she could admit it these days—experimenting with Evil Overlordship.
Twilight nodded. "The term is really self-explaining, of course. She was obviously using it as a metaphor for friendship."
Starlight blinked. "Um... well, yes, and you figured that out really quick—"
"That, or an extra-dimensional aperture leading to a personal subspace used primarily for the purpose of napping when unable to get to one's bed."
The unicorn stared, dumbstruck, at the alicorn. "A what."
"Oh, yes. In theory, universal to ponies, but in practice, barely a vestigial pocket. Ponies have mostly evolved beyond the need for them. You'll really only find them used by those who, well, can charitably be called dumb."
"Bwah."
"Honestly, probably for the best. Equinothropologically, they tended to collect mold. Very unsanitary."
"You scare me sometimes."
Twilight shrugged. "I'm used to that nowadays."
FoME's After-Action Retort (Zennistrad's "Sorry For Killing You")
"Indeed. This is one of those rare Death Battles where it really did just end in a knockout. Given Celestia and Luna, it's entirely possible that when Twilight became an alicorn, she also became immortal, though clearly not invulnerable. We can't tell for sure given that Raven revived her, but it would explain her continued brain activity even after getting crushed by the soul-self."
"But, but it's right there in the name! Death Battle! What a ripoff."
"This may actually be for the best."
"A tiny baby horse girl toy still walks, Wiz. Explain how that is for the best."
"Remember, Boomstick, Equestria has two princesses who move celestial objects on a daily basis, a spirit of chaos who can do almost anything... and a pony who knows where we live."
"Oh. Right. The pink one. Yeah, probably a good thing Raven didn't double tap. ... You don't think she noticed, do you?"
"Oh, she noticed alright."
FoME's To Bodily Grow (RK_Striker_JK_5's "Where No Pony Has Gone Before")
After a knock on the bedroom door and a few seconds of waiting, Shining leaned his head in. "Honey, are you... feeling alright?"
Cadance seemed perfectly normal if one ignored the charred bits of crystal flooring. She shrugged her wings. "Sure, aside from the occasional mood swing."
Shining glanced outside their chambers, where frantic crystal ponies were assembling a new staircase in the hopes of appeasing their glorious and terrible empress. "Yeah, I noticed." He took a deep breath. "Just... wanted to be sure."
"Thank you, dear." Cadence smiled, then brought a cloudy, white chunk of crystal to her mouth and started nibbling on it.
"Is... is that dilithium?"
Cadence nodded. "Took me a week to figure out what I was craving, and another two to get the dragon-tooth spell working."
Shining did the math. "So... you've had this craving since that tour of the Enterprise?"
"I guess so. Why do you ask?"
With great difficulty, Shining managed to dismiss the mental image of an infant performing matter-antimatter reactions. "No reason. Love you. A lot."
Georg's Troubing but Nuffle (Estee's Sports in Equestria blog)
The locker room for the Canterlot Cavaliers was nearly silent except for the sound of turning pages and the odd whispering as certain hoofball players attempted to sound out the unusual words on their copy of the invitation. Finally, Wind Gust closed his copy and looked around at his fellow athletes.
"Dis rulebook is too short. Dey must have broke it up into pieces, on account of it ain't got no rules for most of our plays."
"Like the Flying Piledriver," said Static Block.
"Or the Mitzocanitic Blitz Incantation," said Esoteric. "In fact, this has to be a joke. The Interdimensional League? I've never heard of it before."
"They shipped us fifty-six kilograms of .999 pure gold for a down payment," said Assay Line, the team owner, who had been lurking in the corner ever since he passed out the duplicated invites. "Substantially more is due on our arrival, and if we win all three of our exhibition games at this venue, we'll clear more net than the gross for a whole season in Canterlot." The wealthy unicorn's lips curled back in a vicious grin, reminding all of the players that he had once been out on the field just like them, and had plowed more than his fair share of opponents into the turf despite being nominally a Canterlot Royal with a pinkish coat and frilly mane. "They said it would be a lot of fun teaching a bunch of little paisley ponies how to play their game."
There was a low growl that went around the locker room, the kind that would make a full-grown lion decide on rutabagas for lunch.
"I'm in," said Heavy Impact, the quarterback, with a gap-toothed grin. "I tink we can teach them a lot too about how to play—" He squinted at the cover of the instruction manual "—Bloodbowl."
FoME's Most Valuable Princess (Kris Overstreet's "For Love of the Love of the Game")
Some time after Hondo left Rarity to her rest, several more visitors came to her hospital bed. Two moved with the dignity and grace borne of long practice. The last seemed to be carrying their awkwardness for them, along with plenty of her own and a few nights' worth of sleeplessness.
"Pleased as I am to see another addition to our ranks," said Princess Luna, "I must confess that this is not how I imagined the fair Rarity would earn her wings."
Twilight muttered something rendered insensible by shock, concern, and caffeine.
"It comes as a surprise to me as well," said Celestia. "If the doctors hadn't sent X-rays with their letter, I'm not sure if I would have believed them."
"Indeed. Given the last pony to ascend through sublime berserkergang, this—"
"This happened before!?" cried Twilight. "And neither of you told me!? Do you know how long I've spent trying to figure out how this happened?"
Luna quirked an eyebrow at her. "It has been quite some time since the last Princess of War claimed her throne, Twilight Sparkle. The details were foggy in even my memory."
Twilight blinked. A few more hairs found a way to spring loose, putting her mane a step away from Pinkie Pie's. "Princess of what now?"
Rarity interjected with as much of a Death Whinny as the current state of her rib cage allowed.
"Oh. Yeah. I can see that now." Twilight gulped, tail between her legs. "Do either of you know where the nearest bathroom is?"
horizon's Seeing What Sticks (FoME's "Dear Princess Cesium-137")
Regarding your plan for Gargantulon's leavings, which you helpfully outlined in the appendix of your latest scroll —
I cannot argue that the plan as stated would fail to accomplish its objectives. Indeed, it is brilliant in its own unique way. Condensing 60 tons of leavings into a neutronium-dense suit of pony-sized armor would provide significant physical protection while not overly taxing my natural alicorn strength; wearing a suit of witheringly radioactive armor to a battlefield would certainly result in (as you so charmingly put it) "causing Equestria's enemies to fall like wheat to the scythe, driving them before [me] and hearing the lamentations of their females"; and your footnote about the odor finishing the radiation's job certainly contains both tactical and jocular merit.
However, I also cannot help but point out that tactical advantage might not be the only factor we wish to consider. First of all, in times of crisis, ponies look to me as their leader, and in times of war my role is to stand at the front of our armies and lead by example. It would be unconscionable for me to don apparel which, due to proximity, would be more lethal to my beloved Equestrians than to my foes. Second, although I have respect for your firm opinion that the advancement of science should not be hobbled by the court of public opinion, please understand that there is a certain … lack of dignity … to the wearing of concentrated feces which would inflict unpleasant social consequences upon me for generations to come. Third, and most importantly, I hope you can imagine the fear and chaos involved if the creator and lead signatory of the Strawsbourg Agreement, the Haygue Convention, AND the Geneighva Protocols were to disregard centuries of her own impassioned diplomacy in order to embrace a weapon of mass destruction.
Again, I must beg you not to take this as a reproach. It is exactly your unconventional approaches to friendship problems which have saved Equestria time and time again, and the last thing I wish to do is restrain your brilliant intellect. However — as I would hope we learned with the little Smarty Pants incident — not all ideas can be winners.
With much love, Celestia
P.S.: Regarding our Rainbow Dash problem, I attempted to enlist the help of Dr. Linneighus from Canterlot University, but I'm sorry to say he refused. He was apparently enamored with Rainbow's recent suggestion to rename L. guttulus (a small-sized cousin of the common ocelot) from the "southern tigrina" to the "ocelittle".
FoME's Bartering Table (Starscribe's "Ember Goes to the Spa")
Two miles away, in a secret basement meeting room:
Torch stood up, brushing some dust off of her yellow coat. "This meeting of the Campfire Society is now called to order. Flametrail? Membership report?"
Flametrail, whose yellow hoof had been tracing a slow circle around the room as she mumbled under her breath, finished counting and nodded. "Fifty-three present, well past quorum."
"Excellent. And our financials?"
"Alright." Flametrail's mouth quirked into a mild frown. "Could be better."
"We'd be fine if it weren't for Cloudsdale repealing that rent-control law," Burner interjected, crossing her yellow forelegs.
Torch sighed. "We'll convene a committee. Might be time to look into a lease-to-own deal on some cloud property. Blaze? Media report?"
Blaze and Spitfire simultaneously stood up, grim looks on their muzzles.
"Rainbow Dash is on to us," Blaze said.
Torch froze.
"She knows about the magic pool," Spitfire said. "And we can't advise the usual 'accidental' termination. Way too close to the Princesses."
A murmur swept through the room.
Torch winced. "Well, I hear the Neighchelles are particularly lovely this time of year ..."
MrNumbers's Introduction to Pinkieology (McPoodle's "Anything That You Do")
Doctor Princess Twilight Sparkle's Notes On Pinkamena Diane Pie, henceforth "Pinkie" or "Pinkie Pie".
Initial thoughts: Chaos Magic infused? Not unless the Sonic Rainboom has Chaos Magic properties. Does it? No. Maybe we should look into- The ramifications of that being true are too widespread and horrifying to consider. Even for science.
Results of extended monitoring, trial and error, some well-placed hot-sauce, a particularly talkative canary, idle musings and Pinkie's own testimony.
Rule #1: Rule of Funny This should be self-explanatory. As long as the action Pinkie Pie takes would result in de-facto humour, typically vaudeville in nature, it becomes possible, no matter how unlikely.
Rule #2: Rule of Cool A subset of Rule of Funny, but wholly distinct from it. If Pinkie Pie truly believes the action taken would be more convenient for her - or that alternative actions would inconvenience her - Pinkie will be able to take a seemingly unlikely path of least resistance. This is because, as Pinkie herself puts it, it's not funny if she loses her cool. Rule of Cool is thus separate because they're actions to retain inherent comedic presence, but are not inherently funny. Rules one and two may have overlaps, like disappearing in a 'poof' of smoke at unreasonable velocity or bouncing up a forty-five degree mountainside.
Limits to Rules 1 and 2 to be tested in a sterile and controlled environment when researcher isn't wholly disconcerted by Pinkie Pie's insistence that, quote, "That'll be really fun to mess with, won't it?"
Rule #3: Rule of Win Everything turns out well for Pinkie Pie in the end, no matter what. This has also been known to have drastic effects on causality. The experiments proposed by Schrödinger, for instance, would always result in Pinkie being alive. Not alive and dead. Just alive.
We have reason to believe this is because we live in a universe within the multiverse where Pinkie Pie cannot fail. A one-in-a-million chance will merely result in 999,999 parallel universes in which she does fail, and we will always occupy the millionth. Use of Pinkie Pie as a method to send simple binary messages to parallel universes through use of a coin-toss/guillotine setup pending.
Rule #4: Rule of Inverse Importance The odds of Pinkie Pie knowing an unresearched fact is inversely proportional to how trivial that fact is. Pinkie Pie knowing your birthday is 1:1. Pinkie Pie remembering her own birthday is significantly less. Pinkie Pie knowing the millionth digit of pi is 1:1. Pinkie knowing the final digit to pi, or if there is a final digit of pi, is zero.
Proposal to graph this rule as a quadratic function has so far been unsuccessful, due to the inconsistent nature of the subject, and the difficulty to measure the value of 'importance'.
Rule #5: Rule of Musical Numbers Anything that happens in a musical number, outside of the 1812 Overture, is non-canon unless otherwise explicitly stated or inferred outside of the musical number.
Don't ask me what that means. I'm trying very hard not to think about it.
Rule #6: Rule of Forgiveness It is impossible to stay mad at Pinkie Pie. Many have tried. None have succeeded. Whether this is supernatural in nature or merely just her immutable personality is unknown.
Rule #7: Rule of Slapstick Previously thought to be an extension of Rule of Funny, but I cannot believe that anypony could witness the horrific bodily trauma Pinkie Pie bounces back from - literally bounces back from - and find it amusing. Gorge rises in my gullet as I remember several severely horrific incidents being inflicted upon her surprisingly malleable form with little to no ill effect. I suppose this also explains how she withstands the G-Forces of her near-instant acceleration to what must be near-Mach-speeds from standing.
Rule #8: Rule of Three Everything of minor but notable significance that occur in Pinkie's vicinity, i.e. researcher being slammed flat by a door, will occur in a set of three, with the most emphatic occurrence happening on the third.
When questioned on why this might be, Pinkie insisted "Because it's funniest that way!"
Rule #9: Rule of Hammerspace Following similar rules as previously discovered Rule 4, Pinkie Pie can pull objects from what she refers to as 'hammerspace', so long as they serve no vital or significant purpose. If such an item appears to have some use to a 'plot-significant' situation, it will most often fail spectacularly.
'Plot-significant' is the phrase Pinkie insists upon using. I have decided to humour her. She also tells me that the hammers in hammerspace tend to be unwieldy and impractical, which makes them lots of fun at carnival games. Once more I am forced to take her word on this.
Rule #10: Rule of 'Meta' This one's odd. This exists purely because of Pinkie's insistence, and unwillingness to back down on the matter, so I'm inclined to leave it in for posterity:
"Meta-humour just isn't funny anymore, guys and gals. Breaking the fourth wall might have been funny once but everypony knows it just isn't anymore. It's just bad. On that note, MrNumbers probably crossed the line just by writing this, but it's just for a teensy-weensy comment and not for a story or anything -- maaaybe a blogpost at worst -- so he's probably going to get away with it."
My apologies to Mr. Numbers on the committee approving this for publication: She also insisted on not using the period in your title. I know, Abacus, but when I asked her why, she got really weird, even by Pinkie's standards.
Rule #11: Pinkie Pie Will Defy Expectations Even these rules are not as concrete as they otherwise seem. Pinkie says that, now that they've been observed, they might not work sometimes because comedy is all about subverting the expected.
The possibility of Pinkie Pie's effects being of a quantum nature, changing under observation, is not lost on me. Further study is needed.
FoME's Self Apple-robation (Bookish Delight's "Fruits of Labor")
Some things remained constant between the worlds, among them gossip. It was a thin channel, consisting of the journal and the occasional visit to one world or the other, but word still got around. Eventually, it got around to Applejack, who went through the mirror for the first time in her life with a scowl on her face.
She glowered at her waiting counterpart, too angry to bother with taking in her new body. "The hay's goin' on in that monkey brain o' yours, fraternizin' with the enemy like that?"
The local Applejack scratched under her hat. "Beg pardon?"
"I mean that Strawberry Sunrise mare," AJ spat, then literally spat.
The local balked. "Enemy? I'd go crazy if I didn't have Strawberry on shift with me!"
Applejack leaned in and went for the kill. "But she don't like apples."
Human Applejack didn't seem quite as devastated by that revelation as the pony expected. Arms crossed, she said, "Now I didn't know what kinda person I'd be in Equestria, but I didn't think I'd turn out t' be some kinda fruit bigot."
"I ain't a bigot! All other fruits are equally inferior to apples." Applejack nodded at this self-evident logic.
"And what's that make Momma?"
The silence stretched for what felt like hours. Pony Applejack found she couldn't look her counterpart in the eye. Turning away, she said, "You go have fun with Miss Sunrise."
The last thing she heard before going back through the portal was, "Don't need your permission, but thank you kindly."
Brumby_Run's Almost Good (Estee's "Mint Condition")
Celestia wandered back through the courtyard, following the scorch marks of the lightning strikes. She found Luna sitting on a patch of grass, watching the oncoming twilight.
"I've thought about possible alternatives to hiring another artist," Celestia said.
"Do tell," Luna gloomily replied.
"As the Minotaurs were inventing photography, their first attempts produced a monochromatic image. Modern newspapers now use a variation of this process to avoid the expense of full colour printing."
"Photography?"
"The first images were produced on metal plates treated with luna caustic, silver nitrate in the modern parlance. Almost any engraver should be able to convert such an image to a die suitable to strike coins."
"Silver nitrate photography," Luna replied. "An appealing process to consider. However, let us NOT employ the greatest engraver alive to carve the die. I have a great desire to only deal with ponies that are merely competent. Somepony with a spouse, and hobbies. I look forward to dealing with somepony with a lackadaisical attitude towards their profession."
"I shall scour the nation for the most mediocre photographer and engraver possible," Celestia smirked.
"What image should we choose for the reverse side?"
"Perhaps, after the photograph of your portrait is complete, we could persuade them to also photograph your tail..."
Celestia managed to dodge the lightning strike, but allowed herself to be overpowered by the tackle in a fit of giggles.
SIGAWESOME'S Flush with Inspiration (Brumby_Run's "Almost Good")
Mr. Snap Shot was the perfect candidate candidate for a photographer. Happily married to a loving husband of 40 years, Snap Shot was among the first ponies to embrace the new Mazein photography technology as a hobby. His technique was admittedly crude, and his composition a bit amateur and nondescript, but all his work had one salient feature that made him perfect for Celestia's project; all the ponies, griffins, diamond dogs, minotaurs, and hippogrifs were all remarkably at ease and cheerful in his photos. Mr. Snap Shot apparently had a gift to put beings perfectly at ease in front of a lens. Talented without being unhealthily focused, good inter-pony skills, and just plain fun to be around to boot, Celestia hired him in a heartbeat. What could possibly go wrong?
However, like a bout of Mexicotl's Revenge brought about by a spicy bean burrito, inspiration often struck without warning at inopportune times...
Engraved coins were all well and good, but to really capture the subtle nuances of the Princess of the Night, required something larger. Perhaps a double sided tin-type daguerreotype issued as scrip in lieu of a lune coin? Nothing too large, mind; large enough to show Luna in all her radiant splendour, yet compact enough to fit on the frog of one's hoof?
The tin plates could be rather unwieldy in bulk and potentially unsafe (especially if businesses in Canterlot continued to amortize through defenestrated capital), so why not use paper? Paper (or more specifically a proprietary linen/cotton/paper blend specially formulated for the Royal Eschequer) could be neatly folded up to facilitate carrying in ponies' personal pocket dimensions in their manes and tails, and had the added benefit of gently fluttering to the ground instead of sharply plummeting after a Venture Capitalist meeting.
The paper scrip needed to be designed for the rigours of daily use and for the harsh realities of security. Soft, 4-ply weave ensured the silk-screened dyes were properly absorbed, and the chequered quilting pattern made forgeries far more difficult. The paper scrip would be distributed to banks in convenient little rolled-up spools. A series of perforations would help ponies remove individual squares of scrip from the roll.
All currency needed a snappy motto in an old language, so Snap shot solicited the help of his husband to create the old Equish "Bebod Onmédla Gaderung"; "The decrees are the glory of the assembled".
Fortunately Celestia caught Snap Shot before he could present his new "BOG rolls" concept to Luna
The Astral Plane was a mysterious realm of stars and mist, accessible only to alicorns and beings of similar cosmic significance. Two such beings occupied it now. Mortal onlookers might see them as trees or ponies or humans. All of these interpretations were as accurate as any other, for harmony avatars are just as weird as those of chaos. They're just less aggressive about it.
The Tree of Harmony sighed and brought a hoof/hand/branch to her muzzle/nasal bridge/Element of Magic socket. "Junior..."
The Palace-Tree, who called herself Sparkalon even if ponies hadn't settled on a name for her yet, crossed two limbs and pouted as only a months-old piece of magical architecture could. "What? I didn't hurt her."
The Tree just gave her offspring a Look. Similar to a Stare, but usable only by mothers. "Junior."
"Okay, fine, there was the magic blast, but that was technically her own fault. And so was breaking into me in the first place!"
The Tree shook her head and various head-analogues. "You know why I'm upset."
"It's not like you just sat there and took it when the plundervines were choking you," Sparkalon scoffed. "Not when you actually could do something about it."
"We exist to spread harmony and understanding, not havoc and confusion. Sending Starlight Glimmer into an infinite maze of countless dimensions falls strictly in the latter camp."
"So would letting her wreck time."
The Tree sighed. "What am I going to do with you?"
Sparkalon smiled with teeth white as birch bark. "Build a friendship school next to me?"
"Now you're just being ridiculous."
Hivemind's Tartarus Hath No Fury (DrakeyC's "I'm Listening")
Starlight rubbed her forehead before depressing the button on her microphone.
"Hello, caller. I'm listening," said Starlight, murmuring a short series of expletives under her breath involving rainbows, pies, and large hammers.
"Please help," came a distressed voice from the other side, breathing heavily. "My name is—u-uhh—Schlining Schlarmor. I've barricaded myself in my Horse Cave, because my wife has gone COMPLETELY INSANE!"
"Whoa, whoa, stay calm! What do you mean she's gone insane? What's happened?"
"I-It wasn't my fault! I was just asking a mare we passed by for the time! But then she turned around a-and—I didn't even look at her flanks for that long! Like, two seconds, maybe!"
A loud crash came from somewhere in the caller's background.
"That hussy thinks she's got it better than me to try and flirt with you like that?" shouted the vaguely familiar voice of an angry mare. "We're not resting until I show her that I can make you squeal!"
"Oh goddesses, help me!"
There was another, softer crash, then the line went dead. Starlight glanced at Trixie, hoping for some semblance of an explanation, but she was equally as confused; and a little mortified.
Starlight slid down from her seat. "I'm going on break."
Georg's Microscopic Appeal (Estee's "George Lucas was on the verge of writing fanfiction...")
"Hi girls!" Star Power bounced into the staff reading room with her usual energy and thunked down onto her purple cushion. "This season is going to be terrific, won't it?"
Five silent mares looked up at the young actress, then First Take let out a frustrated huff of breath and buried her nose back into the script. "Somepony tell her. I can't take it."
"Not it!" called Barnstormer and Pan Flash at the same time, then the two young mares exchanged a conspiratorial glance and mutual giggle.
Deep Cover shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Ah swear you two are getting more like your characters every year. Just... read your script, Star."
"I made a down payment, I made a down payment," muttered Butter Up. "It's just one season. I can do one season. Even this."
"Oh...kay." Star Power hunched over the table and opened the script. The room remained silent other than the turning of the pages, although five sets of eyes kept watch on their youngest member. Finally, Star looked up, cleared her throat, and asked Barnstormer, "This is a practical joke, right? You and Pan decided to get a good start on the season. Come on. You can tell me. Right?"
Star looked around the table, her eyes growing larger. "I mean we get shrunk down and travel through Princess Celestia's bloodstream? It's educational, I'll admit, and will expose young foals to new ideas, but..."
Bugsydor's Economy of Scales (Bugsydor's "Ember, Hoardsmelter")
"Sister, come quick!" Luna said1, snatching a startled Celestia in her telekinetic aura and teleporting the both of them into the skies above Stalliongrad.
1. The words "Luna shouted" are reserved for instances involving actual property damage.
After shaking her head and ensuring she didn't plummet to the busy streets below, Celestia fixed her sister with one of her medium-rare glares of irritation. "Luna, what is the meaning of this?"
Unfortunately for Celestia, Luna had long since grown immune to every last one of Celestia's lesser glares. "Look!" Luna said as she once more grabbed Celestia's snout in her telekinesis and twisted it towards the Problem.
She swiftly forgot her erstwhile irritation.
"What in my name2..."
A massive hoard3 of dragons, ranging from adults to whelps, was marching towards the city.
"By Star Swirl's famed invisible pants4!" Luna shouted, chipping some shingles off an unfortunate roof. "They're bringing..."
2. People at the top have unique lexical difficulties. 3. The proper name for a large gathering of dragons. 4. Some people are more creative about resolving the aforementioned lexical difficulties than others.
After a moment of Celestial squinting, followed by an air-lensing spell, Celestia turned back to her sister. "Statues, among other things."
"The fiends intend to shatter our walls with golems of stone and steel, then! We must rally the troops at once!"
"Nay, sister. Hold your horses," Celestia said, the wheels within wheels of her brain visibly turning. "Some of the letters I've been receiving from Princess Twilight are beginning to make sense. I think we should have a word with whichever dragon is in charge."
"LET ME DIE!" Luna screamed as she hurled herself into the side of Mount Canter for the thousandth time that day.
"LET ME DIE IN PEACE!" she wailed as she bounced off yet again, unmarred.
She plummeted to the earth, not bothering to even try to slow her fall in any way, before slamming into the ground. She rolled over and laid there in the crater left from the impact, staring sullenly at the stars in the moonless night, her only company on the desolate, lifeless planet that was Equus.
She cursed her weakness, cursed her lust for power and, more than anything else, cursed that infernal sealant product that Twilight Sparkle had received from the mirror world.
She also cursed the fact that it never seemed to run out.
She cursed all of these things and herself as she looked to the reason for the desolation around her, the reason for her unending loneliness. She had tried to fix it once she saw the effect her actions were having on the planet, a sight that drove the nightmare deep into the depths of her subconscious with a parting "that's a lotta damage" when faced with her newfound grief. She had tried to fix it, but she could not.
Flex Tape was just too strong, even for one such as Luna, and it stuck to any surface.
She lamented this fact yet again as she stared at the black circle in the 'night' sky, the shiny black rubberised coating both absorbing all light from any stars in the sky, and holding at bay that from the star within.
Tears rolled down her face as she stared at the sun, wrapped in Flex Tape, and she threw her head back and bellowed.
"THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU TRY TO PLAY GOD!"
FoME's Play Until Midnight (Undome Tinwe's "Joint Venture")
Shining Armor looked back and forth across the table and slowly let out a breath. "O... kay. I think that a reasonable point to stop for tonight."
"Aw, seriously?" groaned Rainbow Dash. "I barely even got to do anything this session!"
"Quit yer bellyachin'," Applejack said as she elbowed Dash in the ribs. "It can't be street fights and stunt shows all the time."
"Says you," said Dash, crossing her arms and scowling.
"Thanks again for taking GM duty, Shining," said Twilight.
He hesitated just a little before smiling back. "No problem. You've got a great playgroup. I should've figured you'd like Shadowrun. Just, uh, one thing."
"Yes?"
Shining swallowed. "Could you... maybe not make your eyes glow in real life when you do it in the game?"
FoME's Family Histrionics (Zennistrad's "Never Too Clever")
Star Swirl scowled. "You remind me of a very obnoxious unicorn who tried to convict me for a murder I didn't commit."
The mare's reaction was not at all what he expected. "Star Swirl the Bearded spoke to me! This is the greatest day of Trixie's life!"
Star Swirl's jaw worked silently for a few moments. Then he did what he always did when confronted with idiocy that exceeded his expectations. He turned to the uni— the alicorn next to him and said, "Clo— Styg— Twilight. Explain."
She gave him a wry smirk. "You didn't think I was your only fanfilly, did you? You're kind of a celebrity among arcanists, and Trixie did go to Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns." Twilight gave Trixie a sidelong glance and added, "Briefly."
"That filly running a school..." Star Swirl shuddered and fell back on tried-and-tested reflexes. "Trixie. Explain."
"He knows my name!"
"I miss Limbo."
Crystal Waters's Disambuguation (Estee's "Jury Duty III: Summoned With A Vengeance")
Considering the design of the benches in the juror's waiting area, any pony forced to sit down would shortly be shifting themselves in a fruitless attempt to find a comfortable position. Junebug would be a perfect example of this were there not other, more interesting sources of discomfort to observe.
The other jurors had entered the office as a group and from the way they acted, Junebug thought they might be related except that, based on what her friend had told her, Junebug was under the impression that the courts tried to avoiding having multiple members of the same family in the one jury.
Although they'd eventually passed Vapor Lock's trial, Junebug was a little uncertain whether they were meant to be here as they had begun arguing shortly after they entered the waiting area.
"I'm Susurrus, you're Onyx Regime and she's Black Opalescence!"
"I thought I was supposed to be Onyx Queendom. Who's Onyx Regime?"
"You are!"
A glossy grey pegasus gleefully announced, "I'm Spartacus!"
"Noling is Spartacus, you idiot!"
The argument stopped dead as the other jurors -- Junebug was now positive they were related -- turned to look at Possibly Susurrus.
"Nopony is Spartacus?" Probably-Not-Spartacus suggested.
"I think I might be." Said Maybe-Spartacus.
"Look at your documents! For Ch- Celestia's sake we all literally have papers that tell us which pony we are!"
"I can't read mine."
"You're holding it upside-down! Give it here."
Junebug resumed trying to find a less uncomfortable position on the bench. Things didn't seem as bad as her friend had said it would be; certainly less boring anyway.
FoME's Soured Relationship (Bubble Butt's "Can I Have it, Too?")
"You!" cried Trixie, posing and pointing for maximum dramatic effect.
Maud blinked. "Hi."
Starlight looked back and forth between them. "Have you two met before?"
"This is the slavedriver who oversaw Trixie's labor on that thrice-accursed rock farm!"
"You kept trying to take a break every five minutes."
Trixie harrumphed and tossed her mane. "Trixie is a delicate creature ill-suited for such things."
Maud's expression didn't move, and hadn't since she entered the grotto. "Then you probably shouldn't have gotten a job on a rock farm."
Starlight bit her lip. "Uh, how about we try to make this into a learning experience? You know, how to say the right thing to get ponies to want to be your friends?"
Trixie scoffed. "Trixie has little interest in befriending a mare so dedicated to making her miserable."
"That was Limestone."
"Limestone?" Starlight turned from Maud back to Trixie. "Who's—"
Trixie shivered, sweating to the point of froth as her pinprick pupils stared at nothing. "Stay off Holder's Boulder. Stay off Holder's Boulder. STAY OFF HOLDER'S—!"
In a blink, Maud had her hoof pressed against Trixie's muzzle. She turned to Starlight. "Limestone has that effect on ponies."
Starlight swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat. "Ah."
Sunset looked back and forth between the frazzled princess and the creature who looked far too smug about breaking Twilight's arm. She leaned on the door to her apartment, in part because she just wasn't awake enough to deal with this and stand up straight at the same time. "Let me ask you a question, Twilight. When you came walking through the portal, did you notice a sign on top that said 'Used Villain Storage'?"
"Sunset, you know I didn't see any—"
Sunset held up a hand. "Did you notice a sign out on top of the portal that said 'Used Villain Storage'?"
Twilight looked away and knocked her balled-up hands together a few times. "No, I didn't."
Sunset nodded. "You know why you didn't see that sign?"
"Why?"
"Because it's not there, because storing used villains isn't what this universe is for!" Sunset stomped a foot for emphasis.
Twilight bit her lip. "It... kind of is."
"No, that's how lazy ponies who can't solve their own problems use it." Sunset leaned in close and poked Twilight in the ribs. "Are you a lazy pony who can't solve her own problems?"
"Well, with Chrysalis—"
"Are you a lazy pony with no sense of facial hygiene, terrible taste in robes, massive inadequacy issues, and an inability to solve her own problems?"
"Sunset—"
"Are you a pony so hopped up on her self-importance and centuries of kowtowing that she can't even handle another strong personality who doesn't immediately bend the knee?"
Twilight glanced at Chrysalis, who seemed to be enjoying this far too much. "Can we talk about your issues with Celestia some other—?"
"Tartarus is right. Freaking. There, Twilight. This is Cerberus's problem, not mine." With that, Sunset slammed the door in the others' faces.
After a few moments, Chrysalis broke the silence. "Can I stay here? I like her."
"Shut up, Chrysalis."
Airy Words's Spikey Wikey (Irrespective's "This Nose Knows")
Rarity skipped up to the Golden Oaks Library and knocked. Her smile was locked in place while she waited. After several seconds, the door opened and a young voice called out from well below her head.
“Library is open! Just come on…Rarity!” His eyes practically filled with stars and the last word dripped with reverence.
The unicorn tittered. “Oh, Spikey Wikey! You always know just what to say to make a mare feel welcome!”
The dragon sighed. “Whatever you say, Rarity!”
The fashionista leaned forward and placed a kiss on the top of his head. “You are just SUCH a dear! And always so helpful!”
Spike’s breath caught in his throat and he stood stock still.
After ten seconds or so, Rarity’s smile disappeared and she spoke with a hint of annoyance. “Breathe, Spike. Don’t forget to breathe.”
With a gasp followed by a look of utter gratitude, Spike smiled even wider. “Wow! Thanks, Rarity!”
The same smile plastered itself on the mare’s face. “Oh, Spike! Such a kidder! Say! Would you do your biggest fan a teensy-weensy favor?”
“Anything for you, Rarity.”
“That’s gooooood. Please send this scroll off to Princess Celestia for me, would you? That’s a nice dragon.” A scroll sealed with green wax floated in front of him.
Without taking his eyes off the unicorn, Spike breathed on the scroll and it dissolved in the dragonfire. Wisps of smoke headed off towards Canterlot.
Rarity gave a little jump. “Oh, look at the time! I must be off to sew more amazing fashions! Thank you again, Spike!” The dragon and the door to the library lit up in Rarity’s magic. Spike was levitated inside and the door slammed closed. Rarity immediately began galloping in the direction of the Everfree Forest.
Spike blinked a few times, slowly shook his head, and asked aloud, “What happened?” He then caught his breath. “Rarity!” Again, he froze in place. There was a knock on the library door, but Spike stood insensate. After another knock with no answer, a voice from the other side of the door said “Oh, right. Still open-for-business hours.”
Then three things happened almost simultaneously: the door slammed open, someone yelled “Surprise!” and a cannon went off.
Spike extracted himself from a ball of confetti that had impacted and stuck in the fourth shelf up in the “Self-Help” section. “Pinkie! What the heck! Why did you just party cannon me into next week?”
The perky party pony bounced in front of him. “But were you surprised? Huh? Huh? Huh? Because I got a triple left knee itch followed by a one of those almost sneezes that suddenly goes away have you ever had those anyway that meant you had forgotten to breathe again and there was somepony new in town at the Library!”
Spike frowned and tried to step out of the confetti streamers wrapped around his legs. Instead, he made two multi-colored paper comets trail behind him across the floor. “Well…maybe the first part, but it was just Rarity here a second ago. You must have seen her.”
Pinkie furrowed her brow then slowly turned her head upside down then shook it back and forth. “Whoa! Head rush! I’ll have to try this again! Anyway, no, I didn’t see her on my way over. Are you SUUUUURRRREEEEE there was nopony new here just a few seconds ago?”
The Earth Pony Guard wore a set of armor that Celestia recognized as Mark VII duridium steel full-plate that now was a bit worse for wear. Mud, leaves, and dirt were caked on every surface that served to cover the stallions’ body completely. The helm held under one foreleg was in the same state. He stopped in front of the Solar Diarch in her private chambers and bowed.
“Lieutenant Grappling Hooves. Report.” Celestia’s voice was flat and emotionless but her eyes burned with a fire that could not be hidden.
“The chimera’s nest was located and Sergeant Ironbottom and I kept the beast pinned while the rest of the team searched. We found these and I hesitate to guess their meaning.” Opening his saddlebag, he reached both forehooves inside and extracted two items, holding them for his ruler to see. One hoof held the sun medallion given to Prince Bean by his wife. The other…
Celestia’s mask broke and she fell to her knees. “Is that…? There were no…”
The soldier shook his head and held the piece of black shell higher. “There was enough chitin for a single changeling. It had died recently and there were no bones or hide of any pony.”
The Princess’ eyes watered and tears fell freely from them. “Then, that means…”
Her musings were stopped by a pop in front of her horn. Instinctively, she caught it and rotated it in her magic. The green seal was too translucent to be wax and bore a stylized letter “C.”
Her composure returned instantly and she stared forcefully at earth pony. “Speak to no pony about this. Also, give the same instructions to the rest of the team.”
He bowed. “It has already been done, Your Highness.”
She nodded. “Take both items to brief my sister, in private. Then ask her to come to my chambers.”
Luna turned the scroll upside down. “Such an amateurish attempt at extortion. I mean honestly. ‘WE hAvE YOur BEAn. COme aLOnE to The BaDLAndS. TelL NoONe.’ Is it really necessary to clip letters from various magazines to form a scroll of ransom? Is this a practice I missed while I was away?” She then started to examine the back of the scroll.
Her sister huffed. “Please try to be serious, Lulu. I’m already putting my husband at risk by showing you this.”
“By no means,” replied Luna. “There is no such word as ‘noone.’ You can’t be expected to have to guess the intentions of those who don’t know these are two separate words. Perhaps they meant to say ‘no pony’ but ran out of the letter ‘p’ and weren’t clever enough to place the letter ‘b’ upside down.”
“Luna…”
The Night Alicorn waved a hoof dismissively. “Oh, fine. I admit it still wouldn’t look right without a mirror. So…” she put down the scroll and looked at her sister. “…plan 17B, I suppose?”
Celestia blinked. “Ummm…that was some time ago. Is that the one where you lead a few dozen dragons down every hole and burn up everything in sight?”
Luan smiled fondly and sighed. “Oh, that was great fun! But you’re thinking of Plan 27A. No. You swallow a moonstone for tracking, I spy on your whereabouts by moonlight, and if you don’t emerge from the changeling hive within an hour, I start destroying it with iron meteorites, working my way from the outside in. I won’t use anything heavier than an average pony so there will be no chance of hurting you, even if your magic is suppressed.”
“But my Bean still could be.”
“Then you will just have to shield him with your ample posterior.”
That earned her a glare.
“What? Safer than using your face, is it not? And you must admit it is big enough to do the job.”
The Day Alicorn sighed and started for her balcony. “Good enough, I suppose.” She took and gulped down the small rock offered by her sister. “No reason to delay.”
Chrysalis cackled. At last, the Alicorn of the Sun was under her control once again. The princess had left her vestments at the edge of the Badlands before being led deeper in the desert—only being led to the hive after ensuring there was no pursuit. The changeling queen double-checked the three nullstone rings on Celestia’s horn and the hobbles of the same material above her hooves. The drones before and behind them were alert and ready for any tricks. The alicorn walked impassively forward through the passageway of the new changeling hive. Even if the nullstone wasn’t in place, no magic except for changeling magic would work here, but that was a secret to be held back in case this was a futile rescue attempt.
“Did you enjoy spending time with my drone? Was his act convincing?”
“He was the bravest creature I have met in centuries. I will mourn his passing for the rest of my days.”
The queen’s smile ended. This was not what she had expected to hear. She studied the alicorn’s face but did not see any deception. Eventually, she sighed and looked away. “Yes. He was indeed the finest of my children.”
Celestia glanced sideways and gave a small smile. “Then we do have something in common.”
This got no response.
A minute later, they entered a small storage chamber with perhaps a dozen green pods hanging from the ceiling. A large empty pod hung next to the only occupied one. Inside…
Celestia gasped and Chrysalis was surprised at the strength and depth of the love radiating from the pony monarch. So he really had re-awakened the passions of the oldest creature in all the lands. The queen unconsciously extended her wings a bit while she soaked up the energy. Free food is free food. “Take your time. I promise you will dream of him when you are in your pod, just as he has dreamed of you for the past week.”
The Sun Princess did not seem to hear her. “You saved my prince. You saved my love.”
Chrysalis drummed a forehoof with a bit of impatience. “Yes. Now would you—”
That was as far as she got. Celestia’s wing snapped out, gathered up the queen and drew her back in an instant. Before a shout could be made, before a breath could be taken, before a there was time to blink, the alicorns’ lips met those of Chrysalis.
An explosion of love filled the queen’s body. She felt the holes in her legs fill in a moment and the energy threatened to burst out of every crease between her chitinous plates. It was as if all the power of the shield that expelled the hive from Canterlot was being channeled into Chrysalis’ body.
In desperation, the queen used her hive mind connections to shoot the excess to the closest guards which collapsed in spasms as their bodies struggled to cope with the impossibly fast influx of love. This was quickly followed by every changeling in the hive, then every changeling throughout Equestria and the nations beyond. And still it came.
With her body feeling like it was an overfilled balloon, Chrysalis dumped a year’s-worth of love into every dormant egg in the hive. Grubs burst from every egg, screaming in joy at the energy that surged inside them. And still it came.
Locked in Celestia’s embrace, the queen could only find one outlet left to keep from exploding. She streamed the love back to the alicorn.
After perhaps seconds and perhaps lifetimes, the kiss ended. Chrysalis slid bonelessly to the floor as Celestia broke the chains binding her manacles with two steps and sliced open her husband’s pod with the uncovered tip of her horn. Baked Bean slid out, coughing green gel from his lungs. Celestia gently helped him to his hooves and waited for him to open his eyes. When he did, he smiled.
“I was just having the most wonderful dream about you.” He shook his head and neck, causing green goo to fly everywhere. “Though I suppose I look quite frightful right now.”
Celestia smiled and booped her nose against his slime-covered one. ”You’ve never been more beautiful, my love.”
They closed their eyes and their lips met.
“What…have…you…done?”
The royal couple turned and looked down to the source of the voice.
“Every…ugh…every one of my eggs is hatched. Every drone will be in a food coma for a week. What have you done?”
Celestia smiled sweetly. “You are very welcome.”
This was met by a slack-jawed stare. “I now have twelve queens that just hatched! What am I supposed to do with one hive and twelve extra queens!?”
Bean spoke up. “Say, dear? Who is that, exactly?”
Chrysalis struggled to get to her hooves and noticed that everything about her body felt…wrong. Her head was top-heavy. Her vision was fundamentally different, able to pick out reds and yellows as never before. And the hunger was gone. Even when she had been fully sated in the past, the ghost of that hunger was always there. Now it just didn’t seem to exist. She pointed an accusatory hoof at the pair. “You two did some…thing...” Her hoof was green. No, her entire LEG was a seamless lime green.
Her horn lit and her magic coalesced into a full-length mirror beside her. She shrieked, “I’m hideous!” She spread her wings and screamed again. “You turned me into some sort of sparkly deer butterfly thing! I look like a rejected foal’s toy!” She stopped to look herself again up and down. “No, too colorful and tasteless! I look like a rejected baby toy!”
The mirror dissipated as her horn went out. Her rear legs gave way and her rear hit the ground. She started hyperventilating. “Why did you do this to me? How can I lead my people when I look like a cotton candy-fueled nightmare?”
Celestia wrapped a protective wing around Bean. “I did nothing of the sort. Somehow, you did this to yourself.”
Chrysalis’ head snapped up. “My beauty is gone! My hive will soon be starving again! I would never wish this on anyone!”
The Sun Princess smiled a bit evilly. “It sounds like you are going to need a FRIEND to provide HELP for your people. All you ever had to do was ASK.”
The Sun Goddess turned and returned to kissing her husband as her wing made sure he had absolutely no say in the matter. When she came up for air, she said to Baked Bean, “You see, dear? Friendship truly is magic.”
The transformed queen stared unblinkingly for several seconds. “By the First Egg, I so hate you ponies.”
Hans stared at the strange apparition in the street, the living cartoon caricature of a girl - her skin not the "not-actually-yellow" associated with Asian ethnicity, but the bright yellow of a character from the Simpsons. She turned, and it was a shock just to see her move. Was this a hologram? Did he miss some news about leaps in the tech industry? Was this some sort of super-high tech prank? ...Was he being filmed?
Her enormous eyes that took up a good third of her face widened in shock and repulsion, and she staggered back into the alley.
Somehow, even realizing it was him she was repulsed by, Hans Müller was still more focused on her cartoonish appearance than anything else. She had taken several steps back, halfway into the shadow of the alleyway.
The light didn't reflect properly. There was a sharp line running down her body, not so much covered by the shadow as simply darkened. He looked down. Her shadow was a perfect cutout shape on the streets of München, despite the mid-morning sun. He looked at his own fuzzy, diffuse shadow for comparison.
It couldn't be a hologram, he realized; even had such a thing existed it couldn't have explained what he was seeing. Not unless perhaps an advanced civilization of aliens had decided to make first contact and chosen a cartoon character as their proxy.
The cartoon girl gave a strangled noise as she tripped on the uneven pavement, and Hans rushed forward to grab her without thinking.
But he had been standing several meters away, so now he was just standing awkwardly over her fallen body, both of them frozen, staring at each other. Eventually, he reached out a hand. She accepted it.
Her hand felt like... like... he wasn't sure what. Warm, smooth. Perfectly smooth. Beyond that, he really couldn't tell; it was like some sort of alien meta-material in the shape of a human hand, or so he imagined, having nothing to compare it to. The "alien" hypothesis was starting to seem frighteningly less implausible by the second.
The girl cleared her throat, and Hans realized he was still just holding the girl's hand.
"Entschuldigung," Hans mumbled out loud as he helped her to her feet.
"What?" she said.
"Oh, you speak... English?" Hans exclaimed in surprise.
"Uh... yes...?" The girl tilted her head in a way that somehow seemed perfectly natural, though Hans had never seen someone do it who wasn't playing an alien or an eccentric detective on television.
So the aliens spoke English... Of course they did.
FoME's Better Part of Valor (brokenimage321's "Brainstorming A New Next-Gen AU: All The Crackships")
Luna probed the phenomenon with her magic. "Hmm. Fascinating."
"I know. Never thought my BBBFF had it in him."
"Judging by his paramours, he has much in—"
Twilight held up a hoof, going pale as she said, "Please don't finish that sentence, Your Highness. This is my brother we're talking about."
Celestia cleared her throat. In her best "chiding teacher" voice, she said, "I don't suppose the two of you would care to share your findings with the rest of us?"
"Indeed," said Rarity. "We trust you can at least explain what happened to Shining Armor?"
"Where he went?" added Cadence.
"An' why he did right after ya cast that paternity spell?" Applejack adjusted her hat like a general's helm.
"Well, the adrenaline in his system managed to sync his fight-or-flight reflexes and cornic lobe in such a way that he managed to reach safety without actually harming any of the mates who were threatening him." Twilight's lecturing smile gave way to another round of repressed retching as her brother and reproduction entered her mind at the same time.
"An' that means?"
"Put simply, fair Applejack, thy addition to his accidental herd was enough to send the young captain fleeing for another universe." Luna nodded at the ripple in spacetime. "A well-executed shift. We may need to partake of him Ourself upon his retrieval."
FoME's Illusions of Contentment (Comma Typer's "A Magic Turn of Events")
Thank you. Thank you so very, very much. Our Trixie was driving us nuts. Magic shows every freaking day, not giving those of us who didn't sneak into Ponyland any time to figure out how to unicorn. You may not appreciate how obnoxious that is, being a Trixie, but trust me, it was. Honestly, you can keep her for all I care. Tell her it was fun, but I just do not have room for a Trixie in my life right now.
Sincerely, Fuchsia Blush
Two weeks later...
Dear Trixies, or to whom it concerns,
Do you have an expected end date for the Equestrian tour? Ever since Fuchsia figured out telekinesis, she's been sulking without our Trixie. She won't say anything, but she misses her terribly. I never thought a gir mare could look bored in the middle of a panic-induced stampede, but all I got out of her was "I bet Trixie would think this is hilarious." I'm doing what I can, but I'm not Trixie. I don't think any world can produce more than one of her.
Awaiting your reply, Lavender Lace
McPoodle's Status Nominal (Immanuel's "Twilight makes first contact")
Dave burst through the door of a windowless room deep within the bowels of the White House. He brought a pink box of donuts as a pitiful peace offering for being late. “Can you believe that Stephanie Meyer is being taught in my daughter’s American Literature class?” he asked nobody in particular. “What is this world coming to?”
He planted the box at the center of the table and looked around at his fellow speechwriters to see if anybody was going to get any of his donuts, or answer his rhetorical question. There were no takers on either account.
Instead, the group of eight anonymous authors shared an identical hangdog expression.
“Alright, what is it?” Dave asked.
“The leader of the alien delegation,” a woman named Ellen answered. “What are we supposed to call her?”
Dave picked up the packet of paper listing all of the information known about the alponies that was thought to be relevant for the crucial speech the President would be giving in three hours. He gave a double-take on seeing the name, but then shrugged in resignation. “Well, Twilight, right?” he said a few moments later. “I mean, that’s the only part that’s concrete.”
“Just ‘Twilight’ is too impersonal,” another writer named Rob complained. “She said it was her family name.”
Dave looked through the list of personal names that the alien’s translation “fairy” had provided. “Twilight Dawn?”
“Isn’t that an oxymoron?” Rob replied.
“Twilight Glimmer?”
“Still doesn’t sound right.”
“And what about the title?” asked Ellen.
“Can we not?” suggested Rob. “She managed to list every possible title short of maharaja.”
“Maharaja Twilight Glimmer?”
“No, Dave.”
Dave pointed to the page. “It says here that she’s the youngest...whatever she is, in their world’s history.”
A voice at the back of the room, belonging to the elder spokesman of the group of writers, spoke up. “Prince Henry the Navigator was a younger son of the King of Portugal,” he said. “With no chance of ever being king himself, he turned his resources to exploration, and was largely responsible for the European discovery of India. Perhaps this Twilight has a similar motivation.”
“I’ve got it!” Dave exclaimed. “Princess Twilight Sparkle!”
There was a moment of silence, followed by the whole room breaking out in uproarious laughter for a full minute.
“Seriously, though,” Ellen said after the room had quieted down. “What the hell are we going to call her?”
The President's nine speechwriters settled into sharing an identical hangdog expression.
Georg's Vulcan Logic (Georg's "Equestria 1940 - Where God and Goddesses collide... Or at least gently bump")
Twilight Sparkle looked down at the churning lava below, then over at her teacher and the rest of the Winter Wrap-Up officials. "You expect me to jump in there?" she asked even as Celestia cleared her throat again and nodded toward the pool of molten rock. "I mean I let you tie me up and bring me here because I thought there was a friendship lesson involved, but I think this has gone too far now. Please untie me and tell me this was all a joooooooooooookkkkk...."
The youngest alicorn's voice trailed off until there was a tiny splash in the lava below. Luna moved up beside her sister and slowly shook her head.
"The youth of today. They do not respect the customs of their ancestors."
"True," said Celestia with a long, deep breath. "I remember how you used to leap off the volcano edge, and have our subjects grade you on the dive."
"Also true." Luna looked down into the molten lava. "So how long do you think it will take her down there before she realizes alicorns are immune to fire?"
Kencolt's Haylander (Bok's "The Great and Deathless Trixie")
"Okay. So... crazy mare, doesn't know what she is, isn't trained, doesn't even have a proper sword-- most of those in her act are horseapples, seriously-- and nopony tries to take her head. Why?"
"She's... a performer. When she does her job right-- which happens more often than not, despite what you may have heard-- she brings a bit of joy, of light into the world. Of mystery. Every day, we learn more about the world, about reality... magic itself is more understood, physics is uncovered, chemistry is overtaking and refining alchemy... there are fewer and fewer mysteries. That's a part of why we hide. And much of what she does is let ponies, even for a short time, believe the unbelievable. To dream that the impossible... is possible. To have, if you will... a bit of faith."
"You mean--"
"Yes. For a short while, wherever she sets up her performance, and especially when she performs, her little show is Holy Ground. As long as she doesn't actually enter the Game herself..."
"She's off limits."
"Exactly. True in the end, there can be only one... but while there are such as she around, that end will be a long time coming. Also, she's about to do the thing with the hat and the rabbit. I love the thing with the hat and the rabbit. So stop fiddling with your sword, sit down, shut up and watch the thing with the hat and the rabbit."
"Um... there's no rabbit."
"Wait for it..."
Nova Quill's Dark Roast Beyond Twilight (Justice3442's "Black Magic")
"In short, that's how Flurry Heart is getting a new sibling," Cadance concluded.
"You're pregnant? Again?!" yelped Twilight.
"Well, we completed most of a years' work by day one and a half and got bored, so..."
"Please refrain from telling me about yours and my brothers' bedroom exploits. Again." Twilight deadpanned.
Cadance draped herself over the younger alicorn's back and tittered. "Aww, but sibling appreciation is just another form of love Twilight."
"I'd say Chrysalis has been a horrible influence on you, but you've always been incorrigible."
"By the way, we brought some of that coffee antimatter for you. For science."
And for the next three days, Twilight organized the inmates of Tartarus from 'Mostly Harmless' to 'Twitch In An Inappropriate Manner and I Will END You;' completed all of Celestia's, Luna's, and her own quarterly paperwork... for the next three quarters; and set up a camping trip in the Everfree Forest by the Tree of Harmony for her and her friends. It was the perfect plan!
FoME's (and River Road's) Last Standards (Monochromatic's "Taking prompts for fluffy ficlets")
Twilight and Spike barely had time to register the grassy expanse before they heard the familiar voice. "Another pony!"
Both sighed. Their resignation turned to shock as they took in what had become of Rarity in this timeline, her mane tangled and coat matted. She gave an off-kilter smile, as though she were out of practice. Her voice gave the same impression, accent absent and inflections strangely placed. "I... I haven't seen ponies in... in moons!" She gasped and brought herself muzzle-to-muzzle with Twilight. "We might be the last ones! We have to repopulate the species!"
Twilight pushed Rarity back until she had a little breathing room. "Firstly? We're both mares. Secondly, genetic bottleneck. Thirdly, there's a minor present."
Spike rolled his eyes. "After the last Rarity, I think we can say my innocence is officially dead."
"Hush, Spike. Let me have my delusions for now." Twilight turned back to Rarity, who hadn't stopped grinning like a madmare the whole time. "And lastly? I can see a stallion literally thirty feet behind you."
Rarity turned to look and scoffed. Her accent slipped back into place as though it had never left. "Please, that thing is wearing stripes with spots. It's sub-equine."
River Road's coda:
"And quite frankly, if he doesn't take off that hat soon, preferably to burn it somewhere and bury the ashes, we will be the last ponies around in a moment."
"Well, I'm glad to see you have your priorities straight."
"Fashion before flirtation, darling, it's a multiversal constant."
Kencolt's Music of the Spheres (Kris Overstreet's "Why Sunset Shimmer Got a Week's Detention")
"Yes, Tia. I told you that already. Repeatedly. They kept going on about Night—"
"How did they know the name of your old band?"
Luna sighed. "Nightmare Morn, not Nightmare Moon, Tia. It was meant as a reference to light not hiding the horrors of the darkness, that even in the morning the hidden things still--"
"Yes, I know. It was, in other words, more loud and clashy metal stuff that I never could get into. Hmm..."
She's going to compare my music with that damn Gordon Lighthoof or John Denfur stuff she always listened to, or something else that's just meant to hack me off. I know it. It's going to be—
"You know, Nightmare Moon isn't a bad name for a band, is it?"
"Darn it, just because— wait." Luna blinked. "You're... you're right. It would be a great name for a—"
"Not a good band, mind you."
"Dammit, Tia..."
FoME's I Cappuccino Other Recourse (anonpencil's "Welcome to Sunbucks! Can I Take Your Order?"
Twilight's eyelid twitched. Without ever looking away from Celestia, she magically guided her coffee to one of the planters and upended it.
Celestia simply sipped her own, visibly keeping a most unroyal sound of pleasure down to a pleasured but dignified hum. "Is something wrong, Twilight?"
"It's certainly not what I was expecting when I'd asked if you'd done anything interesting lately." Officially speaking, there was no snark to be found in Twilight's voice. One princess of the realm did not sass another. Officially.
Celestia certainly didn't acknowledge any hypothetical sass. "You have to agree that it was quite interesting."
"From a purely magical standpoint, yes. From any other?" Twilight felt the twitch start up again, threatening to spread to her other eye and both ears. She shut her eyes, breathed in calm, breathed out stress. Once she found her center, she said, "Princess, you know how I sometimes find it hard to criticize you or accept your fallibility?"
Celestia nodded. "I am, yes."
"Well, you'll be pleased to know this isn't one of those times. Because these horse apples right here? This is why I don't tell you anything about the other side of the mirror."
Not_A_Hat's Stop the Dream, I Want to Get Off (Everyday's "My father / was a Night Guard")
"The horror! The HORROR!" Rarity cringed away, nearly curled into a ball and trembling. "No," she whispered. "Stay away."
Skull chortled and took a step forward with a clicking and jingling of piercings. "So you don't like my outfit? I made it myself. I call it... Skull Fashion." He lifted one foreleg and shook it to let the tiny silver skull piercings touch with the fairy-like tinkle of tiny bells. "I've got skulls embroidered on the kneepads, skulls on the shoulderpads--"
"Bladed," whimpered Rarity. "I noticed. But that's not it. I can't believe you... monster!"
"Yeah," gloated Skull with another step forward. "I used tiny little skulls to decorate the bigger skulls."
"Still not it," gasped Rarity, twitching and trembling as if she were trying to tunnel out of the corner of the room. "Your coat... That terrible, horrible shade of fuchsia. And your orange mane! It's unnatural!"
"Don't care," said Skull, taking one last step to tower over her. "Now, before I end you and get back to the rest of the losers, you got any last requests?"
"Just one." Rarity stopped trembling and looked up, studying him with an experienced eye. "Blue, I think. Cerulean blue."
"Cerulean?" Skull blinked a few times as unpracticed neurons in his brain fired. "Do you expect me feed you or something?"
"No, Mister Skull." Rarity stood up with the coiled fire hose behind her expanding with pressure, and the nozzle pointed firmly at Skull's face. A few dark blue droplets of water dripped down from the tip, most likely from the five or six empty packets of Goops for Stuff Permanent Color Changing Formula scattered around her hooves.
"I expect you to dye."
huor's Leaving the Nest (Sporktacles's "Rainbow Dash Comes Out to Her Friends")
Twilight Velvet watched her son levitate his teacup for a sip. She'd have to get the timing just right. Once he'd begun tipping the cup to drain into his mouth... now!
"So Shining," she asked, "have you and Cadance set a date for the wedding yet?"
Shining Armor's eyes went wide and he began coughing violently. "Mom!" he finally managed. "It's not like that at all! It's--"
"Mom? Dad?" Twilight Sparkle's voice called from the front door. "Are you home?"
"Twilight!" Velvet lept to her hooves and rushed to meet her daughter at the door. Teasing her son could come later; for now, she had far more important motherly duties to attend to. "Oh Twilight, I was so worried!" she said as she engulfed her daughter in a crushing hug. "When I heard that you'd fought Nightmare Moon I just about died! Twilight, promise me you'll never do anything that dangerous ever again."
Twilight awkwardly returned the hug. "Don't worry, mom. This was a once in a thousand year event. I can't imagine that I could ever possibly be in a situation like that again."
"I'm sure that we're all glad to hear that," Night Light said from the stairs as Velvet finally released her daughter from the hug.
"For sure," Shining agreed. "Twiley, we're all so incredibly proud of you, but please, don't ever scare us like that again."
Velvet beamed at Twilight as she blushed at her brother's praise. "Well," Velvet said, "it's all over. You're safe here at home now."
Twilight's body stiffened, and her ears drooped as she looked down at her hooves. "Actually, that's what I've come here to talk about. Can we all sit down? I have something I need to tell all of you."
Velvet's heart lept into her throat. "Oh, sweet Celestia. Did something happen to you during the battle? Are there going to be side effects from the magic you had to use?"
Twilight looked back up at her mother, shaking her head. "No, no. Nothing like that! I wouldn't really call it a side effect at all." A small sob escaped from Velvet. "Mom! It's not bad news, I promise. Things are just going to change, is all."
Hooves shaking, Velvet followed Twilight and the rest of her family into the sitting room. She took a deep breath to steel herself for the imminent news, but her resolve almost broke after Night Light gave her an agonized look.
"Mom, Dad, Shining," Twilight began, "the thing is, I... I'm leaving Canterlot."
"Wait, what?"
Twilight's face was redder than Velvet could ever recall seeing. "I know I said that I didn't think that it could ever happen to me, but you see... I met these amazing ponies in Ponyville. And I thought really hard about it, and I just can't leave them behind. So I've decided that I'm going to move to Ponyville where I can be closer to them."
There had been many times when Velvet hadn't had a clue how to respond to her daughter, but before it had always been because she hadn't understood half of the terminology that Twilight had been using. Velvet's mind raced as she struggled to keep up with the implications of what her daughter had told her.
"But Twiley," Night Light said, "what about your studies with the Princess? You're not really just going to throw all of that away for some mare that you've just met, are you?"
Twilight smiled widely. "Don't worry about that, Dad. I've already spoken with Princess Celestia and this won't effect my studies at all. She says that this is a very important type of magic that I need to explore. Isn't this exciting?"
Velvet blinked rapidly. She had no idea what the Princess could be thinking. Yes, she had long worried that her daughter was becoming more and more of an asocial recluse, but this was not the way she ever would have chosen to break Sparkle out of her shell.
"Uh, Twiley?" Shining asked hesitantly. "I couldn't help but notice that you said that you'd met some ponies. As in plural."
"Oh, yes. There's Rainbow Dash, who's this incredible flyer, and Fluttershy, a pegasus who works with animals, and Applejack, who farms applies, and the seamstress Rarity, and finally Pinkie Pie, who... well, she's a bit hard to sum up. But she's a lot of fun to be with. They all are."
Velvet wasn't hearing what she thought she was hearing. This was all just some big misunderstanding. "And they're all your friends now?"
"Best friends, mom!"
Three jaws dropped in unison. Apparently, Velvet had heard exactly right the first time. Then she had a horrible realization. "Twilight, I know that you're not very experienced when it comes to ... relationships with other ponies. All of these ponies, they do know about each other, right? You've told everypony about the others?"
"Well, nopony really said it outright. I thought it was just implied. We're all going to be best friends together! It's so wonderful!"
Night Light closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "And these ponies, they're all mares?"
Twilight nodded. "Mm-hmm."
Night Light looked skywards and whispered, "Thanks Celestia for small favors."
Twilight trotted over to Velvet and gave her a quick hug. "I know what you're disappointed that I'm leaving home, but I really won't be far away at all. I'll still be able to come to Canterlot whenever I want it. I'm going to be in my room packing, okay?"
Nopony moved as Twilight's hoofclops faded up the stares. Velvet looked over at her son and husband and saw the same masks of horror that she imagined that her own face wore.
"Five. Ponies." Shining whispered as he stared out the window.
"Mares, though," Night Light pointed out. "At least we don't have to worry about an unexpected grandchild."
"Oh Twilight," Velvet moaned. "Night Light, do you think that there's any chance that this won't all explode in poor Twilight's face?"
Night Light shook his head. "Of course not. I mean, Twilight's never been much of an athlete."
Velvet mouthed the word athlete several times, trying to see the connection. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Well, just think about it. Where's the poor girl going to get the stamina to keep five ponies satisfied?"
"Night Light! How can you joke at a time like this? Our daughter is about to get her heart ripped to shreds. What are we going to do?"
Shining, who was still staring out the window, brightened suddenly. "Oh, that's perfect! Look who's here!"
Velvet followed his gaze out of the window and saw exactly the Princess that they needed walking to the front door. She hurried to the door and had it open before Cadance could even knock.
"Oh!" Cadance said, "I guess you saw me coming. Is it true? Is Twilight really moving to Ponyville?"
"That's what she just told us."
Cadance's face lit up as she squealed. "Oh, this is so amazing. I never thought that filly would ever have it in her. So, who's the lucky mare?"
Shining answered from behind Velvet. "Mares, apparently. Five of them."
Cadance's mouth made a perfect o. "Five?" Velvet nodded. "At the same time?" She nodded a second time.
Cadance wavered for a second and had to take a step back to steady her self. "Wow," said the Princess of Love. "Way to go, Twilight!"
FoME's Diplomatic Irony (Lets Do This's "My Little Student")
Twilight took a deep breath, letting it out as she sat. To the manager of the factory and the union representative, it would look like she was just settling into her chair, not that she was performing a breathing exercise to keep from flying off the handle over how this labor dispute had somehow reached the point that it called for royal intervention, much less being the royal who had to intervene. She opened her mouth to begin the opening statement she'd practiced until late last night.
"Anypony want a snack?" All eyes turned to Pinkie Pie, who definitely hadn't been in the conference room before now. (Granted, Twilight was pretty sure that the conference room hadn't been in her castle last week.) "Nothing goes better with tense negotiations than a jam roll!"
Picket Line shared a look with Downsize, and Twilight noted that between the two of them, there wasn't a trace of resentment or ire. Pinkie-induced confusion had left no room for either. Both stallions gave vague affirmative noises as their brains tried to catch up to the mare out of nowhere.
Twilight, as inured to Pinkie as anypony could be, spoke for both. "I think that sounds wonderful, Pinkie. Jam rolls for everypony."
Pinkie snapped off a salute. "By order of Princess Twilight Sparkle!"
Twilight noticed somepony was laughing a few moments before she realized it was her. She cleared her throat. "Pardon me, gentlecolts. A fond memory. Shall we begin?"
Georg and horizon's Shadow of the Sun (GaPJaxie's "Something Silly")
"Actually... I must confess something, Twilight." Celestia lowered her voice and checked to make sure Luna had finished going down the hallway to her room. "You are quite incorrect. I do have a shadow."
"But you don't!" insisted Twilight. "It's perfectly plain. Even now." She waved a hoof under her fellow alicorn. "See!"
"My shadow is not here, Twilight. It's rather... complicated." Celestia took a short breath. "It's Luna."
(horizon)
Twilight paused for a moment, then laughed uneasily. "Okay, that was a good joke, Princess," she said. "But it's a little too unbelievable. I mean, Luna has a shadow." Twilight pointed discreetly down the hall, where the other royal sister was walking from her room toward the royal kitchens — a dark blotch on the ground underneath her, exactly opposite her body from the hallway lights.
Celestia nodded neutrally. "Twilight, you've got an excellent grasp of my sense of humor. But I can assure you: the fact that there's no darkness underneath me is no prank, nor a trick of my magic."
Twilight stared at Luna's receding form for several seconds. Then swallowed. "… You're serious."
"It's a funny thing," Celestia said gently, "how alicorn shadows work. Just like with ponies, they take the shape of a mere dark patch underneath our bodies where we block out the light — until we are in the proximity of others who bring out our deepest emotions. Then they manifest physically as our greatest hopes and dreams. Or as our greatest fears. Or, sometimes… just as the way we see ourselves, in our heart of hearts."
Twilight's wings fluffed out a bit. She rocked side to side on her hooves, trying not to let her nervousness show. "What are you saying, Princess?"
"My faithful student," Celestia said — pointedly using a title she hadn't called Twilight since her coronation months ago — "now that we're standing here together, do you know where your shadow is?"
Twilight looked down. Her blood froze in her veins.
Underneath her, the marble floor was a pristine, undarkened white.
Twilight's mouth opened and closed several times. She looked at Celestia, and at the bright floor underneath her. Then down at herself and her own floor. Back and forth a few times, as if she could make the effect go away by looking again.
"Oh," she finally said, voice weak.
Luna paused in her trek back to her room — plate of pie hovering in midair as she chewed — and glanced over at the two alicorns quizzically. She opened her mouth to say something, paused, shook her head, and walked off again.
Twilight's eyes strayed down to Luna's shadow as the dark alicorn left.
"Oh," Twilight said. "Oooooooohhhhhh."
(Georg)
Luna merely rolled her eyes and kept walking. After all, Celestia was the one who had suggested she take up a hobby of a sort that could not go wrong under any circumstances. And her new collection of pony shadows would not sort themselves.
Kris Overstreet's Gone Horribly Right (naturalbornderpy's "Rent-A-Pony")
"All right," Chrysalis said, "we've successfully infiltrated Rent-a-Ponies into households across the ten most powerful countries on this planet. We have computer passwords, nuclear launch codes, and orders of battle we can use to nullify any resistance. The time has come to conquer this pathetic world!"
A changeling in the front row of the auditorium looked up. "Eh, no," it said.
The queen blinked. "What."
"Y'see, some of us have been talking," the mouthy changeling said, and its neighbors nodded agreement. "We get some real scuzzy guys sometimes, yeah, but most of our customers are nice and generous and fun to be around, you know? We get free pizza and cokes, or cider-"
"My best customer gives me beer," a changeling four rows back interrupted. "Craft brew stuff, not mass market."
"And, most importantly, all the unconditional affection we can eat," the first changeling finished. "It's a sweet racket, and we don't want to spoil it by destroying this world, you know?"
"WHAT??" Chrysalis raged from behind her podium. "This whole farce was so we could conquer this world as a stepping-stone to my final revenge on..." She paused, brought out a list that did the traditional drop-to-the-floor-and-roll-out-for-several-feet gag, and began reading. "... on Twilight Sparkle, Princess Cadance, Shining Armor, Celestia, Luna, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie—"
Under the queen's wing, something buzzed.
"Oh bother!" She pulled out a cellular phone, took the call, and said in an entirely different voice, "Hello! Welcome to Rent-a-Pony, this is Princess Pomegranate! Thank you for your continuing— Yes? ... Well, she's in a meeting right now— Yes... Yes, you did buy the VIP package... No, you're quite right. She'll be right over. Yes, thank you, bye-bye now!"
There were a couple of sniggers from the changeling horde filling the auditorium.
"We'll talk about this later," Chrysalis snarled. "For now, get back to work."
Half an hour later, a knock came at Celestia's bedchamber door.
"Come in," the princess of the sun sang out.
The door opened to reveal Princess Pomegranate, a sheepish-looking unicorn with unnerving green eyes. "Good evening," she said. "You said you wanted me for the evening?"
Celestia raised an eyebrow. "No," she said quietly. "You know what I want."
"Pomegranate" sighed, and in a flash of green light was replaced by a slightly younger unicorn with a familiar purple coat, her starburst cutie mark concealed by a schoolgirl uniform. "Yes, Princess Celestia," she said quietly.
"That's better," Celestia smiled. "Now, I have all sorts of things to teach you this evening about the history of the griffon clans..."
Queen Chrysalis, disguised as Twilight, whimpered and wondered how many more sessions she'd have to endure before Celestia finally hoofed over the negatives...
horizon's Real-Time Sympathy (GaPJaxie's "Tempest Shadow is the New Starlight Glimmer")
"On the bright side," Twilight said during the later Friendship Conference — with a Very Pointed Stare in Tempest's direction — "I can assure you all that she will bring that very same sense of thoroughness and efficiency to her friendship studies."
"Indeed," Tempest said, seeming to not even notice the glare. "For example, just last night, I delegated eighty-six squadrons of Friendship Troopers to go door-to-door to every single resident of Mount Aris."
Twilight blinked. The room went dead silent.
"Wait," she managed. "What? Why?"
Tempest shrugged. "To say sorry to the hippogryphs for my actions leading a hostile invasion force, of course. It was an optimal balance between efficiency, and providing a personal touch to my apology."
"That … but …" Twilight said, then did the little hoof-chest-breathy thing and gave Tempest a rigid smile. "Okay, let's have a talk about efficiency later, but for right now, I don't suppose you could call them back?"
Tempest shuffled her hooves, looking for the first time slightly uncomfortable. "I … don't know if that would be a good idea right now."
"It's okay," Twilight said soothingly. "We can handle the apologies later. Together."
"That's not the issue," Tempest said. "The apology phase is already complete. You see, I didn't want to risk missing any residents after they left for work or school, so I told the troopers to visit at 5 a.m."
Twilight stared helplessly, groping for words.
"Tempest," she finally said, "that wakes ponies up."
"That was the point, yes. Remember when you told me that Applejack would appreciate breakfast in bed for her birthday? An apology in bed seems like an even better way to start the day."
The rest of the room stared in horror at Twilight. Twilight doubled down on the rigid smile.
"Just to be clear," she said, "you had 'Friendship Troopers' storm into ponies' bedrooms at 5 a.m.?"
"With apologies."
"Across the entire city at once."
"Of course." Tempest raised one eyebrow. "… And?"
"…and. And." Twilight fluffed her wings, and said delicately: "You didn't see any problems with a tactical pre-dawn citywide, quote, 'friendship visit'?"
"Oh, of course," Tempest said, a trace of smugness creeping in. "But I accounted for them."
Twilight tried not to notice the way the rest of the room was quietly shuffling toward the exits.
"How so?"
"Well," Tempest said as if explaining to a foal, "if the city guards had noticed, it would have spoiled the surprise. And if the palace guards had noticed, we would never have been able to personally deliver an apology to the Queen. So while Squadrons 1 through 12 secured the front gate and Squadrons 13 through 67 climbed over the city walls, Squadrons 69 through 86 parachuted into the palace courtyard —"
"— of course, there was no way to get Friendship Troopers into the barracks with traditional tactics, short of a costly frontal assault. Which is why I made an agreement with Chrysalis, so I could deploy changeling infiltrators as Squadron 68 —"
"— but once the city was under control, it was a given that Chrysalis would betray me, which is why I also deployed the dragon I subdued last week as a reserve force —"
A throat loudly cleared from the front door. Twilight glanced over.
"My sister," a sleepless Luna said in a voice edging on Royal Canterlot volume, "would like to know why we are receiving reports from the Crystal Empire that they can see smoke rising from Mount Aris, and reports from the Zebran capital that there are refugees begging for aid on their shores."
"It's under control," Twilight and Tempest chorused.
They glanced at each other. Twilight let out a long sigh and facehoofed.
Tempest winced.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "Does this mean I need to prepare another apology?"
FoME's Reviewing Your Work (Luna-tic Scientist's "Final Solution")
"... and so we left them for a time, so that they could forget us and learn to stand on their own hooves."
Celestia opened her eyes, the fields of memory replaced with marble, thick carpets, and a wide-eyed unicorn filly staring at her like she'd never seen her before. "Wow..."
Celestia glanced at the clock. "Oh! Goodness me, I didn't realize how late it was. You must be getting terribly bored listening to an old mare prattle on."
"No, no! This is amazing! When I asked to learn about ancient history, I just thought it'd be dates and names. I never imagined..." Her student spread her forehooves in an effort to encompass everything she'd heard. "All that! I'm not sure what all of it was, but what I did understand was really cool!"
That got a flat look from Celestia. "It wasn't cool at the time."
"Well, yeah, but hearing about it was! Were we really slaves to Diamond Dogs?"
"We were. And we never will be again."
"And you shot lasers at everything?"
"Not exactly something I'm proud of now."
"And your name's really Fusion Pulse?"
Celestia shook her head. "I've been called Celestia for much, much longer than I have that. It was the name I was born with, but I haven't thought of myself as Fusion for a long time."
"And you had a sister?"
"Have a sister." Celestia looked out her balcony window. Thankfully, she'd raised the moon out of reflex, presumably some time while recounting the global bombardment. She looked at the craters forming an all-too-familiar profile. "She's been gone for a long time, but if a clever little filly like you helps me, Sunset, we can have her back soon."
SIGAWESOME's Logorrhea (Tumbleweed's "Brain Problem Situation")
Applejack turned to walk back to Ponyville. Hopefully Twilight and Rarity would have recovered their respective vocabularies and she could query Rarity more closely just what exactly she meant by "Sexy—
*squish*
Applejack stopped short at the sound. It was a distinctive sound, a slippery, ripe, organic sound all too common around Sweet Apple Acres. The sort of sound one's hoof makes when one unintentionally trods upon a hidden pile of Winona's...business... lurking in ambush in the grass. It promised olfactory and tactile unpleasantness for the foreseeable future (a real promise mind you that you could bank the farm on, not a politician's promise).
Applejack cautiously lifted up her forehoof to survey the damage. Much to her surprise, it was not a pile of business she had stepped in. It was a word, more specifically it was gooey, crushed, splattered, sticky remains of a word.
She peered closely, examining the dangling "tion" on one end and a sad little "Sh" at the other. There were a few broken ascenders and descenders poking out and maybe a diacritic or two, but Applejack could not make heads or tails of it. It also stank.
The whole mess started to slide unpleasantly down Applejack's frog. She snorted and quickly flicked it off and thoroughly wiped her hoof clean on a fresh clump of grass.
"I sure hope that wern't one of Twilight's big important Princessin' words..." She shrugged her shoulders and continued walking on, carefully stepping around the sullied grass so as not to stain her dress's hem. "Oh well. Say la vee as they say in Prance. I'm sure Spike can help her out with that one..."
Monarch Dodora's But What if They Have a Piece of Fruit? (horizon's "You Are What You Wheat")
Duty, propriety and a perfectly-justified fear for the safety of her eardrums allowed Parade Rest almost three days' resistance against her morbid curiosity before it dragged her, internally kicking and screaming, to the entrance of Princess Luna's chambers and knocked her hoof on the door.
It was mid-morning — that stage of the working day when people at work finally buckle down and look for real excuses not to do anything — and it occurred to Parade Rest that this was not a convenient calling-time for ponies whose duties included the stewardship of the night only when the door flew open to reveal the Lunar Princess wearing pajamas, a sleeping mask pulled up onto her forehead, and an expression best described as a Royal Canterlot Face.
"Yes, guardsmare?"
Parade Rest snapped to terrified attention. "Ah, forgive me, Your Highness!" she said. "I didn't mean - I'll come back at a more convenient time - "
"Believe me, guardsmare," Luna said, rubbing an eye, "thou shalt not improve this situation by making mine awakening pointless. Speak."
Parade Rest fumbled. "Well," she said, "it's just, uh..."
Luna waited. Parade Rest swallowed.
"Well, I had a very, uh, strange experience a few days ago..." She glanced off to the side. "Like, really strange." Her eyes went distant. "If I'm honest, I'm not sure how much of it was just an odd tale by Princess Celestia and how much was a mind-rape by that God of Chaos nopony seems to mind having loose about the place."
Luna raised an eyebrow.
Parade Rest shook herself. "Anyway!" she said. " I experienced some weird things, Your Highness. And I'm fine with that! I'm okay with seeing a pony-snake-thing explode into a shirt, or saying a word so often it developed its own flavour, in fact last night I even slept without screaming once, Your Majesty, as I'm sure you're aware what with watching our dreams and all, haha - "
Luna raised an eyebrow more.
"But you see..." Parade Rest fidgeted. Scratched the back of her head. "I can cope with all of that, but the one thing that's bugging me... the one question I can't get out of my mind is..."
She shuffled, and finally looked up.
"Your, ah, personal armoury, Princess. Is the best weapon you possess really a... a pointy stick?"
There. The question was out, and she cringed instinctively even as the last absurd syllable took flight. Some small part of her wondered if the way her ears flattened was a defence evolved through the millennia against angry Canterlot-Voice-wielding princesses, and then dismissed the idea on the basis that an evolved defence required its progenitors to survive. She saw Luna blink as she parsed the question — saw her pupils actually contract in astonishment at the idiocy of it — and then —
"Eee! Finally!" Luna squealed, hopping from one hoof to the other, "a guardsmare with an appreciation for the exotic weaponry!" And she spun and pranced back into her chambers. "I do indeed have a pointy stick! Come, come, thou must see it!"
Parade Rest opened her mouth, discovered that even three days had not been nearly enough time to recharge her depleted whatage, and eventually followed with the kind of shuffling step usually reserved for approaching the gallows.
The chambers were exactly as she recalled / had been told (she was still fuzzy on which one it was): obsidian flooring; wheatgrass through the far window, swaying in the breeze; and, yes, the weapon rack, full of notched and blunted blades, and as Parade Rest watched, Luna poked about with her telekenesis, extracted the same dull and ordinary piece of wood from before, and held it aloft with a reverence fit for an heirloom.
"Is't not wondrous?" Luna sighed, and gazed enraptured a moment before her expression turned sly and she looked sidelong at her guest. "Wouldst thou like to hold it?" she whispered conspiratorially, hovering it over. "But do be careful; it is very pointy."
"Um... thank you, Your Highness," said Parade Rest, chancing a look around for hidden cameras. "Truly a, uh, marvel of engineering."
"Indeed!" Luna said happily, but the look she cast at the other contents of her weapon-rack would have stripped them of their varnish had they been varnished in the first place. "And it galls me that such a finery as this should share its rack-space with these... these mediocrities of warfare. Oh, which reminds me: I have a requisition form for replacements from the armoury. Thou canst deliver it for me!"
Parade Rest continued to look at the stick in her hoof as Luna trotted to her desk and buried her head amongst the piles of paperwork. "Forgive me, Your Highness," she said cautiously, "but how exactly does one fight with a pointy stick? Do you just, uh, give the forces of injustice a swift poke?" She picked it up gently in her teeth and swished it around once or twice.
Luna's laugh was musical. "Of course not, my little pony!" she said distractedly, still opening drawers and rummaging through papers. "The poke is merely a... crowd-controlling manoeuvre, like striking with the flat of one's sword! To poke in true combat would be simply disrespectful to such a weapon!"
"Fo wah-" Parade rest moved the stick to the side of her mouth and tried again. "So what do you do, your highness?"
"Confound it," Luna muttered, overturning folders, "where did I put that thing... what do you do with a pointy stick? Why, you point with it, of course!"
Parade Rest looked again at the stick, and back up to Luna; but Luna continued to rummage, and seemed disinclined to embellish. And so Parade shrugged, looked at the window, gripped the stick in her lips, and pointed.
"And that, Sister," said a bald and soot-covered Luna, "is why we no longer have a Strategic Wheat Reserve, and I no longer have a bedroom wall. Please stop laughing."
Georg's Googol Translations (Estee's "Because nothing has EVER gone wrong with this kind of request: public opinion needed.")
"What was that, Spike?" Twilight Sparkle looked up from her book to where her faithful assistant was sorting the massive lump of mail they had been receiving every day. Some was trash, and got the dragonfire treatment. Some was misdirected to the wrong princess, and got the special dragonfire treatment. And some was of the unfortunate type that actually had to be opened.
"Says here, a translation of your friendship book in Zebrica uses the same copyrighted phrase as--" he squinted "a two-hundred year old pillar of their religious faith. Yadda, yadda, there it is. Huh. 'Friendship is magic' translates out in Zebrican the same way, I guess."
"Can't they just change the Zebrican translation?" asked Twilight with her eyes drifting back to her place in the more important Book Of The Moment.
"Not without a change in the source material," said Spike as he read. "It turned up when the book was being translated for the West Windies, and since they have interlocking trade deals—"
"Wait a minute." Twilight put a bookmark where she had stopped reading. "They're translating my book into Windiean from the Zebrican translation?"
"Actually," said Spike with one claw on the letter. "They're translating it from the West Griffish Isles dialect, which translated it from Zebrican, which translated it from Tauren, who took it from your original book." He turned the letter sideways and squinted. "Apparently, it's a guide to dating now. Sweet."
PresentPerfect's Horror of Horrors (Daedalus Aegle's "A myth I read last night, presented without comment.")
Taraxippus is one of Equestria's many boogeyponies, though one whose name has fallen out of favor in the last few centuries. Parents of unruly children who wouldn't eat their alfalfa would tell stories of Taraxippus, who comes in the night to give wayward, hungry foals such a fright, they'd eat their own leg, or their brother, or their parents. And then where would they be? (One can see why Celestia preferred to phase the legends out of the common myths.)
But, like so many mythical creatures of Equestria, the Pony-Frightener is real, a ghostly minotaur with a visage so terrifying, few remember their encounters with him. Why, when young Princess Twilight Sparkle met him, she was scared out of her...
No, wait, that's not what it says. Apparently, after an initial startle when he snuck up on her in her castle's library, she was completely nonplussed by his appearance. Baffled, the spirit asked her why she wasn't afraid of being forced to eat another pony, to which she replied, "I've had lunches at the CHS cafeteria. Do you have any idea what they serve in those burgers? Because I sure don't."
Taraxippus has not been sighted in Equestria for quite some time since.
Georg and Winston's Manegild (Monochromatic's "TwiLuna")
Twilight Sparkle sat up in bed abruptly and cast rapid glances around the library bedroom. Just one night in Ponyville had not gotten her used to living in a tree, even if it was filled with books, and the way the tree creaked and popped in the town's night breeze still made her jerk awake at the most inconvenient times. Spike had no such problem, and was happily snoring away in his box nearby, like he would be more than happy to continue until noon if left undisturbed. Since the moon was still high in the sky, they both had a long time before dawn, so Twilight settled back down into her bed, rolling over on her side and taking in the view of Princess Luna’s teal gaze at the end of her nose with paralyzed astonishment.
“Pardon our intrusion into your bedchambers, Champion.” Luna bowed her head and kneeled on the thin rag rug of Twilight’s bedroom, which only made her panicked heart beat faster and her mind whirl with the thought that she had obviously missed some sort of letter from Celestia to explain this. Maybe a note. An entry on her calendar?
“T-t-that’s… okay,” managed Twilight after several minutes of intense breathing that made the faint scent of Luna’s sweaty coat begin to hammer away at the back of her mind. The newly freed princess must have flown down from Canterlot to visit Twilight tonight because… Nothing really came to mind. Nothing at all. Zip.
“As you have vanquished me with the Elements of Harmony,” continued Luna with her head still bowed, “your will is supreme over mine, and I shall devote my life to bringing you the pleasure you deserve, for as long as you live. I await your command, Champion.”
"My command is let me sleep, damnit," Twilight grumbled. "Slavery is illegal in Equestria, whether by conquest or by sale. Now beat it before this gets even weirder."
By the next morning, Twilight had convinced herself that Luna's visit was merely the symptom of an undigested bit of parsnip, or perhaps a result of eating the last one of Pinkie Pie’s special muffins before bedtime, and that the resulting dream snippet was only worth bringing up at the luncheon she had scheduled with her friends because of its odd humor. So while the six of them were gathered for a pleasant outdoor meal at the local restaurant, she related the event to them and awaited their snorts of levity, or perhaps even a laugh or two.
Only to have five sets of eyes staring back at her in disbelief.
“Twi.” Applejack pushed her hat back and took a deep breath. “You do know that the Elements of Harmony were used by all of us, right?”
“Of course she realizes that,” said Rarity rather briskly. “It’s just that she did not choose to accept Princess Luna’s generous offer.” After a brief pause, she went on to admit in one quick burst of words, “She’s going to introduce me at court next week.”
“She’s teaching me how to make Cloudscakes,” said Pinkie Pie with a bounce in her seat. “They’re so fluffy!! And they make such a mess that we have to lick—”
“We’re doing nighttime flights,” said Rainbow Dash quickly, punching the air with one hoof. “Up with the stars and moonlit clouds! It’s a whole ‘nother level of competition! And then there’s the snuggles after,” she admitted. “Awesome!”
“So many of my animal friends are nocturnal,” said Fluttershy almost under her breath. “It’s so nice to have somepony who appreciates them with me. Particularly the owlbears.”
After a long silence, Applejack looked at something interesting in the distance and admitted, “Ah only asked her to help out with the harvest this fall since she loves being out among mah trees, and we can work together into the evening. And dagnabbit if the snuggles weren’t pretty durned good too.”
horizon's Flurry Presentation (Skywriter's "It is always hard to post something on Candybutt Day...")
[Camera pans over the peaceful land of Equestria, with ponies laughing and playing.]
EXT. CANTERLOT BALCONY, SUNSET
... and Cutie Marks are destiny.
[PRINCESSES CELESTIA AND LUNA stare at the horizon. CELESTIA'S Mark glows as she lowers the sun. LUNA'S Mark glows as she raises the moon. MRS. COZY, tea Mark on her flank, comes in from the foreground to push a teacart to the laughing Princesses, past a GUARD with a spear and shield Mark.]
SPLIT SCREEN
There is a princess for every season ...
[Cut to a four-way split, with CELESTIA at the Summer Sun, PRINCESS TWILIGHT at a harvest festival, PRINCESS CADANCE at a spring fair, and LUNA on the snowy night of Winter Moon. Each camera zooms in to a close-up of their faces framed by their seasonal colors. The faces freeze into a portrait quadriptych.]
INT. CANTERLOT CASTLE THRONE ROOM
... And every pony has a role.
[The camera zooms back from the quadripytch, which is a portrait set hanging over CANTERLOT CASTLE'S twin thrones. On the royal dais, the FOUR PRINCESSES are hosting a ceremony with LLAMURABI, THE KING OF EVEN-TOED UNGULATES.
The camera pulls back further, and faster, over the heads of an ENORMOUS PONY CROWD, until it backs through a small window at the back of the hall, into a DARK PALACE HALLWAY, where BLANK-FLANKED TEENAGED PRINCESS FLURRY HEART — in royal regalia — stares at the ceremony.
A single tear rolls down her cheek as she turns to leave.
The camera backs away to lead Flurry as she stalks down the hall, keeping her squarely in frame with the window behind. More tears spill down her cheeks. Her jaw begins to quiver. Ominous music builds.
Then her eyes widen as CROWD SHRIEKS begin offscreen.]
CADANCE (OS): (Screams)
[FLURRY HEART whirls around and bolts back for the window — just as a LARGE EXPLOSION blasts the hall apart and rockets her into the camera.]
EXT. DESTROYED CANTERLOT
[Light gradually pierces the darkness as rubble shifts. A large chunk of wall slides away, revealing a scene of utter devastation. A pink-white hoof bursts through the rubble, followed by a bruised FLURRY HEART. The camera pulls up as she screams — revealing that the flattened castle is entirely motionless and silent.]
FLURRY: Noooooooooooooooooo!
INT. YAKYAKISTAN CABIN
For Princess Flurry Heart ...
[Flurry poses in a martial arts stance, legs trembling, body covered in bloody bandages, as the DALAI LLAMA circles her form and adjusts one of her outstretched hooves. A new Cutie Mark of a double-edged sword is prominently emblazoned on her flank.]
EXT. ABYSSINIAN ALLEYWAY
... And some unlikely friends ...
[GABBY is walking down the alleyway when a MINOTAUR grabs her by the shoulder and whirls her around, a blade to her throat.]
MINOTAUR: Gabby! You are DEAD!
[GABBY grins, and green fire dances around her form, leaving behind a smirking PHARYNX.]
SFX: WHAM!
[The MINOTAUR crumples to the ground as THE REAL GABBY walks into frame, claws clutching a now-broken chair.]
GABBY: Nice try! But wrong on both counts.
MONTAGE SCENE
[Various preparations, as FLURRY, GABBY and PHARYNX equip a succession of weapons. FLURRY puts a stripe of face paint under her eyes. This is interspersed with teaser flashes of pitched battle scenes against ALPACASSASSINS and REINDEER SLAY TEAMS.]
... that role is vengeance.
INT. KIRIN FIRE ARENA
[A crowd of ROWDY TOUGHS is cheering and betting on a pit fight between two flaming kirin. Money is being exchanged and salt is being openly licked. Suddenly, FLURRY HEART bucks the front door open, GABBY and PHARYNX at her shoulders. The crowd goes silent as they turn to her.]
FLURRY: I'm either here to kick butt or chew bubblegum!
[FLURRY'S horn lights red, and a glowing blood-red aura unsheathes four different swords.]
FLURRY: And I don't like bubblegum.
TITLE CARD
FLURRY HEART 2: FLURRY HARDER
INT. TARTARUS
[Glowing red eyes open up in the darkness. An ominous silhouette shifts and advances.]
???: Mmmmhahaha. I knew the Last Princess would be back. So. Are you ready to accept my help?
[FLURRY HEART steps forward, bleeding and alone, hornglow weak, a grim expression on her muzzle.]
FLURRY: I think you know the answer to that.
[MUSICAL STING, out]
FoME's Alicorns, Inc. (Ashfur's "Put that crown back where it came from")
It said something about the past several years that nopony even blinked when the rulers of the nation teleported into Ponyville Square, a suspiciously sticky fluid working its way down their ethereal manes. "Twilight, wait!" cried Celestia.
To her relief, Twilight did stop, though the furious expression she wore when she turned around offered no such comfort. "What?"
Celestia's heart sank. This was it. This was Twilight's breaking point. Like Sunset before her, she'd finally been pushed too far. If Celestia was lucky, her former student would at least stay in the same universe.
Luna rolled her eyes, tuned out her sister's apocalyptic mutterings, and said, "'Twas merely a jest, Twilight. A rehearsal for a mummer's show!"
Twilight still looked one step away from bursting into flames. Again. After Luna jabbed Celestia's ribs, the largest alicorn added, "Luna means a musical."
The rage leaked out of Twilight, only to be replaced with flat disbelief. "Really."
Celestia nodded so fast, a few drops of alchemical glue went flying... for about an inch, before it set and gave her possibly permanent cowlicks. "Oh yes. It's called, uh..."
Luna jumped in. "'Put That Crown Back Where It Came From, or So Help Me.'"
Twilight stared at them. They stared back, smiling wide enough that their cheeks hurt.
Pinkie bounced between them like a tumbleweed in a Mild West standoff. "Seems legit!"
FoME's Attack of Opportunity (Tangerine Blast's "Those Wedding Belle Rainbows")
Pinkie Pie in a schoolmarm outfit smacking a ruler into the frog of her forehoof should not have been more intimidating than Chrysalis on the warpath. Operative word being "should." "Don't assume?" said Twilight, ears flat and wings ruffling, as though to remind herself that she was an adult princess and not waiting for Princess Celestia to come into the room so the teacher could tell her what Twilight had done.
Pinkie nodded. "Good. What else?"
"Listen to your friends when they voice their concerns?"
Another nod. "Uh huh. And?"
Twilight smirked. "And if they don't, know that it could lead to a wedding crashed by changelings."
The ruler came to a stop. Pinkie's mane broke free of the tight bun, though it wasn't clear if that was out of shock or just an inevitable product of the mane tie's finite tensile strength. "You... This was payback for Shining Armor and Cadence's wedding?"
Twilight shrugged her wings. "I mean, I didn't anticipate the changeling attack. I had a different plan ready to salvage everything once the brides realized how silly they were being. But honestly? Yes. Yes it was."
Stainless Steel Fox's Ponei the Deathless (melodic_harmony's "You Think You Know Somepony")
Once Pinkie had gone, Twilight opened an eye. Had she overdone it? Possibly, but it was a genuine shock. She rose to her hooves and looked in the direction her friends had gone. Should she tell them? They should understand if anyone could. She almost unconsciously checked the link to her phylactery, Spike.
It was obvious in hindsight. Alicorns were immortal, and could survive conditions that would kill a mortal pony in seconds. If that wasn't enough of a clue, when she'd become an alicorn. her original body had become a scorch mark on the floor of the library. When she'd appeared in the astral plane, she'd been as dead as a doornail, and when Celestia had explained it to her after the fact, she'd had a freak-out to make the Smarty Pants incident look like a tea party.
Effectively, alicorns were a form of lich. However, whereas regular liches used necromancy and the life energy of others to prepare a phylactery to hold their soul, alicorns were empowered by harmony and instinctively stored their soul in something tied to their magical nature and purpose, with great personal meaning. For Celestia and Luna, the sun and moon. For Cadence, Prisma's cosmic spectrum stone. For Twilight, it was Spike, the subject of her first magic surge, where she'd unlocked her potential to become the Element of Magic and ultimately Princess of Friendship.
Since it didn't require necromancy, they avoided the withered, skeletal look of conventional liches, However, their new bodies were just constructs, emulating life, and carrying their awareness around. Celestia and Luna had long since figured out how to deconstruct and reconstruct their bodies at will, allowing them to eschew conventional teleports for turning their bodies into a ball of light or a dark mist to travel quickly, but Twilight was centuries away from being able to do that.
She had wondered if having Spike as her phylactery meant she would die when he did, but some research showed the link treated the anchor as an object, so as long as Spikes bones were more or less intact, that would do. Not that she ever intended to let anything happen to Spike. It did mean that if Cozy Glow's plan had worked, and on the third day magic artifacts had lost their power, all four princesses would have instantly died as their phylacteries failed.
Except Flurry Heart, who was an anomaly in every sense of the word. Cadence's constructed body had somehow created a foal, possibly because of her portfolio as alicorn of love, a new soul in a living body. Twilight's best guess so far was that like Twilight, Flurry Heart had a living being as her phylactery, her own body. Since she never had to discard her original body and take on a replacement, it was still alive, and she was living and growing in it, as well as using it as her soul anchor if it died.
She pushed away her rambling thoughts. She would discuss the idea with Celestia, Luna and Cadence, though she would keep her friends' natures a secret. In both cases, it wasn't her secret alone, and she would not betray a friend's trust. Fortified by the decision, she walked after Pinkie, wondering if there was any popcorn left. While by default, a constructed body couldn't taste anything, one of the first spells Celestia had taught her was a sensory emulation effect that did the same job. Because cake.
I'm sorry that you feel that way, Mother, but I hope that one day we can grow past this and move on with our respective lives. I will, however, remain on guard against your plots for retaking the throne, as will my brother, General Pharynx, who I have also alerted to your message. As to your questions:
1: As far as I am aware, you remain the only changeling with actual hair when in default form. Some of my subjects have been experimenting, but thus far their results indicate that their hair takes on the properties of the creature they are imitating. I'm not sure if this helps, but there you go.
2: Glossy Coats & Manes is a fairly popular brand among changelings at the moment. I've used it myself and find that it does the job admirably well. Your friend minion should be able to mail order a supply via catalogue.
3: As near as we've been able to determine so far, while we no longer feel hunger, constant or otherwise, for love, the upper capacity varies from changeling to changeling, with a hard limit on the upper capacity to store stolen love. We're not sure what, if any, upper limit applies to freely given love, only that if there is such a limit, it is higher than our upper capacity to hold stolen love. Or so I am told, given that I have not stolen love myself since Operation: Canterlot Wedding.
4: According to Princess Twilight, biologically speaking, both Pharynx and I are male, thus I am a king and he is a prince. Granted, either of us can change gender on a whim, so the point is probably moot in the grand scheme of things. However, to answer your question, my wings while in my current base form are three and one quarter standard horns long from base to tip.
With Love and Regret, King Thorax
Yo, Old Hag,
General Pharynx here. Thorax showed me the letter you sent.
Seriously!? You reformed!? You!?
I gotta find out how that happened!
Still, reformed or not, I trust you about as far as I can throw Dragon Lord Ember's dad, so don't expect any sympathy from me.
With mutual contempt, General Pharynx
FoME's Political Power Suit (Dave Bryant's "Silly little question")
"Rarity, it's, uh..." Sunset bit her lip as she took in the sketchbook.
"Don't hold back, dear," Rarity said, looking at her expectantly.
"It's great, really, I'm..." Sunset looked back and forth between design and designer as she tried to articulate her thoughts on the flowing, robelike outfit. "I'm just not sure it really sends the message I'm looking for."
"Well, I was going to try to adapt traditional Equestrian diplomatic garb, however..." As Rarity trailed off, she gave Sunset a flat look over her designing glasses, not so much asking the other girl to finish the sentence as daring her.
"Ponies do not, in fact, normally wear pants. Or much of anything. You have your god-queens trotting about in nothing but shoes and a smile, for goodness sake."
Sunset sighed. "There are a number of things wrong with that statement, but I understand where you're coming from."
PresentPerfect's Hot Blooded, Check It and See (Twinkletail's "Pinkie Figures It Out!")
The next day, Starlight hunted down Pinkie Pie, which wasn't particularly difficult when one knew she worked at Sugarcube Corner.
"I don't get it," Starlight said as Pinkie seated her at a booth with a double-thick chocolate malt.
"You would not believe the number of times I've heard that this week," Pinkie said, grinning as she slid into the seat opposite Starlight. "So I'm gonna have to ask you to be a lit-tle more specific!"
After taking a long sip of her milkshake, Starlight said, "The whole thing about Twilight bursting into flames when she gets mad. It's... it's not that I don't believe you, it's just..."
"Kind of hard to accept without actual visual proof?"
Pinkie's smile never faltered as Starlight stared at her. "Y-yeah... Exactly that."
"No problemo, Starlerino!" Pinkie leapt to her hooves, still on the booth bench. "You still know that time travel spell, right?"
Starlight blanched slightly. "Uhh..."
"Just set time coordinates to X2011 Y2 Z11 W115 V1904!"
"Pinkie, how do you even know how to—"
Pinkie jumped atop Starlight's head, tapping her hooves against her horn in precisely the right way to input time coordinates. "JUST DO IT!"
"Aaaaaah!" Starlight yelled as the magic happened in her horn.
In a flash, both were teleported to a high bluff overlooking some rocky cliffs and a putrid, squelching bog. A giant, four-headed lizard stomped off away from them, blowing a raspberry behind itself, while on a cliff ledge, four ponies and a dragon were having a conversation. Starlight couldn't quite hear what they were saying, but even from this distance, she recognized them immediately.
"Wow," she breathed, "I sometimes forget Twilight didn't always have—"
"Shh!" Pinkie shoved her hoof in Starlight's mouth from behind somehow. "Just watch!"
Starlight was very aware in that moment of the extreme plushness of the flanks of the mare sitting atop her, and how they compared to those of certain other mares. Mares who would remain nameless.
As she watched, the conversation reached a heated argument. Past-Pinkie had been shivering oddly. Those shivers became violent, and past-Twilight let out a bellow of rage that echoed across the canyon.
Then she rose into the air and burst into fire.
Starlight was entranced.
The scene only lasted a few seconds before Twilight's mane and tail extinguished in a cloud of smoke, but it was all Starlight needed to flash back to an anxious evening in Canterlot Castle. A long day spent trying and failing to guide Princess Luna through the affairs of the day had led to her passing out on the balcony in the middle of a conversation with Princess Celestia. The day's stresses had manifested in her dreams, a returned Nightmare Moon battling for dominance against a great and terrible alicorn with flaming mane and tail.
Just like Twilight's.
With a shriek that thankfully went unnoticed by the ponies gathered below, Starlight pulled the magical cord that connected the spell back to their time. She and Pinkie zipped through the swirling colors of spacetime back to Sugarcube Corner, years thence. The milkshake hadn't even melted.
"Whee!" cried Pinkie, bouncing off Starlight and back and forth past the table. "That was fun!"
"Pinkie!" Starlight grabbed her (and the milkshake) in her magic and sprinted out the front door. "Come on, we don't have any time to waste!"
"Whoa! Where are we going, Starlight?"
"To Sweet Apple Acres! Applejack has loads of ponies' genealogy histories, right?"
"Yeah, she does! Most of it's about the Apple Family, of course. What's the rush?"
Two mares and a milkshake teleported across Ponyville in an instant. "By Trixie's sweet yet not-so-soft flanks, I hope I'm wrong, but let's just say Twilight might be a princess in more ways than one!"
"Four, five, six," I said, a dull mixture of dread and relief gathering in my gut. "Well, that's game."
Twilight blinked at me. "Why?"
"Park Place," I said. "Hotel. That's fifteen hundred." I rubbed the two little goldenrod rectangles together between my fingers. "One thousand left. That's game over." I shove my remaining bills across the board to her.
Twilight's mouth formed a hard line. "No," she said. "I'm giving your seamstress—"
"It's a thimble, not a seamstress."
"Well, excuse me for expending a scrap of brain effort on hippomorphizing them. It makes the game a lot easier to understand. Anyway. When it comes time for your seamstress to make rent, and she can't pay it, my laundress recognizes her financial plight and gives her an extension."
"That isn't how this works," I said. "You can't voluntarily choose not to charge rent when someone lands on your space."
"I absolutely can and am," said Twilight, shoving the money back across the board with her hoof. "We come from similar backgrounds, after all."
"Twilight," I said, trying to keep the exasperation out of my voice, "This game already goes on for an eternity. Do you seriously want to risk missing the leyline confluence over a game of Monopoly?"
"I want to end my time here on a positive note, Jeff. I finally think I found a tiny little piece of your world I can actually understand, and I don't want it to be over yet."
I yawned. "Okay. You get one exception to the rules, and in return, it is officially your fault if we oversleep on this thing."
"Deal," she said. "Thank you for indulging me."
"You're close to winning anyway," I said. "Shouldn't take too much longer."
"That's kind of you to say, Jeff. I personally feel like there's a long way to go, but maybe it'll turn around." She smiled, flushing bashfully. "It's just...I really don't want to lose this one."
A moment of silence passed as I frowned at her.
"Um," I said, eventually. "If that was your major concern, why didn't you choose to win?"
"Pardon me?"
"You could have won. Right there. Victory was within your grasp. But you just gave me this money back."
"Well, yes, of course," she said. "If you'd been reduced to zero money, we would have lost."
I felt a tic in my left lower eyelid. My jaw clenched. I spasmodically stood up from the board and stalked over to the mirror by the sink, nearly tripping over the luggage rack.
"Jeff?"
"No wonder this game's been taking forever!" I exclaimed. "You're not even trying to win!"
"Yes I am!" Twilight protested. "And we're close! I can feel it!"
"Close to what, exactly?"
"To setting up a mutually-amicable harmonic economic rhythm where the random dice rolls average out into perfect cash flow back and forth between my laundress and your seamstress," she said. "And we were really close there for a while, before your string of bad luck."
"That's not the point of the game! The point of the game is to acquire all your opponent's money!"
Twilight frowned. "But...how will she afford the upkeep on all these houses she's built?"
"She won't!" I exclaimed, throwing my arms wide. "She's broke!"
"So how exactly is that winning?" Twilight said, her voice raising to match mine. "You won't be able to afford to stay at any of my hotels ever again!"
"Yes!"
She shook her head. "But...you're my best customer!"
I sank to the bed.
"Damn it," I said. "I knew I should've bought Pandemic."
Georg's Tuber Dress (Estee's "So Rarity is a potato now")
"Oh, darling! You're here too?" Rarity trotted up to the toy store where her friends were looking in the front window. "I heard a company had released a toy based on all of us, and I just had to hurry over here to see."
It was a little strange how all of her friends drew together and blocked Rarity's view of the shop window, much as if some unspoken command had circulated among them. Stranger still was the way Spike had just frozen up with wide eyes and barely open mouth, much as if he had spotted some sort of upcoming volcano.
"I understand your toy has something to do with apples," said Rarity slightly slower to Applejack. "I would scarcely think otherwise. And Fluttershy's has something to do with creatures, I would suppose."
The poor dear tried to say something, but wound up merely nodding. Shifting her attention to the one friend who had no problems at all talking about herself, Rarity nodded cordially to Rainbow Dash and added, "Does yours fly, perchance?"
"Um... Yeah," admitted Rainbow. "It doesn't really look much like me, and neither do any of the others, so maybe we all should just laugh about this and go... to the spa or something," she finished in a rapid burst of words.
FoME's Generally Disruptive Pony Regulation (Dave Bryant's "Scene: a real-world classroom of aspiring JDs")
Sunset's friends could always tell how her day was going based on how she sat at the lunch table. Some days, it was a subtle sign, like a little bounce in her step or a stifled sigh.
Some days, like today, she let her face hit the table the moment she sat down.
"That bad?" said Twilight.
Sunset dug into one jacket pocket, pulled out a bundle of business cards, and dealt one to each other girl at the table, all without looking up. "I am legally required to give you these," she said, her voice muffled by the position she apparently planned on holding for all of lunch.
The others looked at the card. Some frowned in confusion. Pinkie held back a giggle. Twilight just sighed. "Really?"
"At least they're tastefully embossed," said Rarity.
"Am I the one who's gonna have t' say it?" Applejack looked around the table, and sighed. "Fine. What in the pear-flavored heck is a privacy policy, an' how come you gotta let everyone know yer updatin' yours?"
FoME and horizon's Fun for All Ages (horizon's "3")
Twilight Sparkle looked at the thing. It seemed a bit like a mop or broom, only instead of bristles, the bottom was a chunk of stone that might have weighed more than she did. The faded sun symbol on that chunk gave her the strangest feeling it was looking back.
She looked up at the princess. Expressions were hard, not like something as straightforward as integrating n-dimensional arcane manifolds. Twilight couldn't tell if Princess Celestia's smile was eager or embarrassed.
No, it had to be eager. Princesses didn't get embarrassed.
That decided, Twilight moved to the next entry on her mental checklist. "What is it?"
"You know how Smarty Pants is your very good friend?"
Twilight nodded, happy to be on familiar ground. She cuddled Smarty and helped her look at the... thing. "She's my very best study buddy!"
Yes, that was definitely an eager smile. "Well, Mr. Smashy is mine." The princess lifted Mr. Smashy with a single foreleg and rested it—him?—against a wither like he'd been made to sit there. "They play very differently, but I thought the four of us could enjoy some quality time together."
(horizon)
They were pouring Mister Smashy's cup of oolong tea when the door burst open.
"Oooh!" Cadance said, poinging into the room. "Hey, Auntie! Hey, Ladybug! Are we showing off trophies of conquest today? Or our adorable childhood friends? I came prepared, either way!" She dragged a chair into the room from the hallway outside and sat down at the tea party table.
Shining Armor poked his head through the door. "Cady?" he said. "What's going on? Your scroll said something about an urgent summons."
FoME's Singing Munchkins Optional (Estee's "You can almost hear Rarity celebrating from here")
The knock at the door wasn't that unusual. Golden Oaks was the town's public library. Of course, public libraries still had hours of operation, but even the most literate ponies had times when they couldn't decode those particular symbols.
Less usual was Twilight nearly tripping on her own wings as she went downstairs, if only because of the brief time when that was a possibility. She folded them back up, the mental effort of remembering how waking her up further. She added the resulting flash of resentment to the stockpile she had saved for the late would-be reader.
Marshaling her features to the kind of scowl that made ponies remember the Ursa Minor, she shoved the door open and said, "Alright, it's almost midnight and you're Sweetie Belle." Twilight blinked, rage lost amid confusion and concern. A distant part of her noted that her wings had hit the floor again. "What's wrong?"
The bloodshot-eyed filly trudged inside. Twilight moved aside to avoid getting very slowly gored. "Barneighs is closing," Sweetie muttered.
"I heard, yes." All of Ponyville had; Rarity had given Pinkie a run for her money in terms of sheer unbridled joy once she'd spotted the article that morning. Wait. "Is Rarity still celebrating?"
Sweetie Belle stopped her slow, automaton-like trudge just before she hit the central reading table. She looked back, the fury in her eyes eerily similar to how her sister looked five days into a mission with no access to plumbing beyond whatever clouds Rainbow could carry down. "Mom and Dad are on vacation, the record player keeps getting louder, somepony sold her fireworks, and Barneighs is closing."
An explosion echoed in the distance. Twilight made a mental note to check Trixie's whereabouts in the morning. "I'll get the guest bed ready."
Georg's The Modern Promaretheus (Daedalus Aegle's "Things that happen in the course of the creative process.")
"Live!" cackled Rarity as she yanked on the ropes, causing the elaborate mechanism to clatter and creak. "Live, my creation! Let the power of nature give it... LIFE!!"
"Uhhmm..." groaned the thing under the covers until a purple hoof emerged and groped for the nearby pillow. "UHHH!!" it moaned more energetically, eventually getting a grip on its prize and heaving it at the cackling unicorn who was standing by the open window with the curtains flung wide. "Rarity!" groaned Twilight, who found herself without anything to cover her head from the unyielding beam of sunlight pouring in through the open crystalline window of her castle. "I said I'd help you this afternoon!"
"It is afternoon, Darling," purred Rarity. She produced Twilight's Extra Large Princess-Sized Coffee Mug (on sale at the castle giftshop for 25 bits, free refills) and waved it near the edge of the bed so the tempting aroma of Bittern's Bitter Biting Brew wafted in the direction of the petulant princess. "And if you don't get out of bed soon, it will be evening, and I shall be forced to see if Rainbow Dash can bring me some thunderclouds for a proper awakening. Tell me, when I attach the electrodes, are you AC or DC?"
FoME's Something New Under the Sun (Antiquarian's "A 14th Century Friar in Celestia's Court")
There were times when Celestia looked forward to somepony different appearing during a court session, a breath of fresh air from all the endless favor-currying and attempts to outmaneuver a mare who'd been playing the game for over a millennium.
Then there were times like now. "Let me see if I understand you correctly," she said to her latest petitioner. "You believe I crafted the Bearers like golems, specifically for the purpose of wielding the Elements."
Sordid Truth adjusted his glasses and nodded. "Twilight Sparkle first, of course, as a trial run and proof of concept. The other five followed shortly."
"As opposed to six mares stepping forward when destiny called."
He snorted at that. "The odds of such perfect candidates just happening to live in a village of a few hundred ponies defy all reasonable belief, Your Highness."
Celestia silently counted to ten, letting the sunfire that hungered to consume all idiotic conspiracy theories settle back down in her heart. "I am afraid, Mr. Truth—"
"Doctor Truth. No matter what those sheep at the university said afterwards, I still earned my degree. No offense to actual sheep, of course."
"Of course." Scorn lay in those two words like the heat of August, invisible yet oppressive. Sordid didn't seem to notice. Celestia counted to twenty this time. "I am afraid, Dr. Truth, that there is a key flaw in your... interpretation."
He raised an eyebrow. "And that would be?"
"You believe that I, or indeed any sane being, could deliberately create Pinkie Pie." After a moment, Celestia added, "With all due apologies to Goodmare Cloudy Quartz, of course."
A wide-eyed Sordid Truth nodded. "Of... of course."
Georg's Redemption Period (Cold in Gardez's "How We Burn")
“But maybe he can change too. Maybe that’s why he came back.”
Celestia fixed her student with the most firm gaze possible. "Twilight Sparkle," she stated in a voice that brooked no disobedience, "you may have grown from my student into a princess of your own, but this is beyond your powers. Even Luna and myself can not—"
"Luna and I," said Twilight almost automatically. Celestia did not seem upset at all about being interrupted, but the faintest ghost of a smile came over her stern expression.
"Perhaps I am wrong," she said. "To change, he will need more than a princess. He will need... an editor."
Twilight Sparkle swallowed, then produced a red pencil. "I believe I can do this, Princess. Let me try, at least."
Georg's Warts, et al. (Estee's "Kiss a Bearer For a Bit")
There had been a few notes to make, a considerable amount of thinking to be thought, and... Well, the townsponies had disproved a large number of their own theories involving alicorns and kissing, and the process had not actually been that bad. Particularly with one or two ponies who seemed to enjoy it. But the truth of the matter was one theory had not been disproven, and although it came from the most unlikely source who had not been right yet, that did not preclude the possibility of them stumbling onto the truth by accident. And she would never be able to fall asleep until she knew.
So all it took was a quick trip downstairs to the library bathroom where her guest was sleeping in the bathtub, a swift and irrevocable motion before she thought about it too much, and considerable face-washing afterward.
Theory: Alicorn kisses can change frogs into princes. - Disproven. And icky.
And upon returning to her bed, sleep came finally to the domain of Princess Twilight.
FoME's Foul Metal Jacket (Fuzzyfurvert's "Content is Content")
The first indication that Rarity had noticed the jacket was a sound somewhere between a rusty door hinge and a small creature's death rattle.
Sunset smiled and positioned herself to better display some of the better faces. "You like it?"
It took Rarity four false starts' worth of sputtering before she managed, "'Like' is a very strong word, Sunset. You are wearing a fashion train wreck. I don't wish to stare, but I find I can't look away." Her neck twitched. "No matter how much I try."
"Yeah, I figure it's a good conversation starter," said Sunset, nonchalantly brushing some dust off her shoulder.
"Yes," Rarity deadpanned. "'What were you thinking?' often bodes well for lively discussion. Did you find the ghastly designs adorning that crime against good taste in the depths of Fluttershy's manga collection, or—" She cut herself off and tilted her head. "Are... are those the Dazzlings?"
"Yup. Turns out they're living in a van down by the river these days. They let me sketch their expressions for fifty bucks."
Rarity frowned at this, though it wasn't clear how much of that was the concentration needed to drag her eyes up to Sunset's face. "But why?"
Sunset gave her a flat look. "Rarity, I may have taken a rainbow to the face, I may have discovered the magic of friendship, and I may have magically harmonious but ethically dubious mind-reading powers, but I reserve the right to be a petty bitch to the deserving."
"That's all well and good, Sunset, but I don't see how the rest of us deserve that jacket."
"Anon-a-Miss."
"Carry on."
Georg and FoME's Two Be a Master (Estee's "Twenty-two years. One thousand and eighty-two episodes.")
"Now, I know how upset you all are over our show being cancelled after nine seasons," said Twilight Sparkle from her position of authority next to the picnic basket.
"Actually," started Applejack, "it gives me some more time to spend at the farm, maybe start a family of mah own."
"And I've been running myself positively ragged!" exclaimed Rarity, slumping down on her nearby divan. "What with running three boutiques, teaching at the school, and all of the other responsibilities of proper leadership, I've been under such stress." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "I fear at any time, I might see... a grey hair."
"As I was saying," continued Twilight, waving one of Pinkie Pie's donuts for emphasis, "you're all upset!"
"Not that much," said Pinkie. "I get to finally date!"
"And I know how much you want our franchise to continue," continued Twilight despite the objections. "So I've taken measures—"
"As long as they don't take too long," said Rainbow Dash through a mouthful of crumbs. "I've got a Wonderbolts exhibition this afternoon."
"—to ensure the franchise lasts into the foreseeable future!" There was a rustling in the nearby bushes, and Twilight perked up. "Ah, there they are now."
"There they are!" a familiar young voice called from the bushes. "Pikachu, go!"
"Princess uses Teleport," announced Twilight just moments before there was a flash of purple light and she vanished.
Then the picnic was over as the red and white balls began to fly...
(FoME)
Officially speaking, the kid shouldn't have even been allowed inside the Punch Bowl. Of course, officially speaking, Berry didn't know how to tell human ages at a glance. Unofficially speaking, she knew he needed help in a glass and a sympathetic ear as much from maternal experience as from her talent. "Here you go, kid. Chocolate milk. Always helps Pinchy after a bad day. So, what's your story?"
The boy just stared at the countertop in a familiar way. Not the enthralled stare of a pony who'd found the meaning of the universe in a blend of alcohol, salt, and wood grain. No, this was the shocked gaze of somepony who'd run face-first into the impossible and didn't know how to deal with it.
"Take your time, kid." Berry started rubbing a glass with a dish towel. It was early enough that there weren't any glasses to actually clean, but she had to keep up appearances.
"It..." A shaking hand took the glass of milk. A bit slopped over the edge as the boy drank. "It was supposed to be simple."
Berry said nothing. She knew a slow-forming monologue when she heard one.
"It was supposed to be simple," he said again. "A new region. New ways to battle. New friends to make, new challenges to overcome. But something like her..." When he finally looked up, there were tears in his eyes. "I had finally broken my streak, you know?"
Berry also knew prompts. "Did you, now?"
He nodded. The arm not holding the glass cradled a memory. "Got the championship. Haven't won one since the Orange Islands, and that was... Never mind how long ago it was. It never really felt like it counted. I couldn't tell you why, but it just didn't. And it's not like I haven't done incredible things outside of the League, but... I'd broken my streak. Took home the gold. And then I wanted to see if I could start a new streak, you know?"
Berry nodded. She did know. She knew the allure of "Just one more" far too well. But she also knew it wasn't her turn to speak.
"I was going to go to Galar. Some weirdly picky immigration laws there, something about preserving the local ecosystem, but Pikachu could come with me, and he's all I've ever needed when starting out. But then the weirdest Rapidash I've ever seen—no offense, ma'am—comes out of nowhere and tells me about a place full of Pokémon no one's even heard of. I'd be the first. The best by default." He smiled, the weight of experience slipping away to reveal a childlike innocence that better matched his body. "How could I resist?" The smile fell. "But then..."
"Then?"
"He's gone. He's gone and this time I don't know if I'm ever getting him back."
Berry winced. Young as he sounded or old as he seemed, she wouldn't wish the kind of heartbreak in those words on her worst enemy. "Why?"
The boy's whole body shook, as much from fear as sorrow. "She's worse than every evil team put together. More powerful than the strongest legendaries. There was no stopping her."
"So, what's your favorite food?"
"Pika!"
Fluttershy blinked. "Ketchup?" She shook her head and smiled. "Well, I'm going to have to insist you have it on something, but I'm sure everyone at the sanctuary will be happy to meet you."
RenaTamer's Mile in Your Chitin (Dogger807's "Magic School Days")
Bounding to a stop before the bewildered pink princess, Chrysalis pulled an object from her mane. "These are the keys to the hive in the Badlands," she said in a tone that was way too happy for Cadence. "This one is to the front door," the bug queen began to point out. "This one unlocks the vault where we keep our love honey reserves, not that I think you're going to need it, and the last one is my... your copy that unlocks Celestia's hidden sex dungeon."
"Wait," Luna blinked in surprise as she looked up to her older sister, "You have a sex dungeon?"
"Several years ago I may have added a padded and soundproofed room to the castle for Twilight... because of her Twily moments... when she was younger," the princess of the sun remarked in her usual calm voice. "But a dungeon it is not."
"Auntie Celestia..." Cadence gasped in shock.
"Call it what you want Aunt Tia," Chrysalis smirked as she returned her attention back to the pink love pony in the room. "OK, if you need any help with the drones, Pharynx is head of security while Steeve is his junior and head of infiltration..." she paused for a moment to gather her thoughts before a spark flashed in her eyes. "And before I forget, here's the queen's connection to the hive mind."
With that said Chrysalis bent her head and touched her horn to Cadence's...
"Sorry! Sorry!" Discord barged into the room, got off the barge, and drew a glowing thread out of Spike's forehead. He slurped it up like a length of spaghetti, patted his stomach, and then remembered he was supposed to look contrite. After clearing his throat, he said, "That was one of mine."
Going by how Twilight's eye was twitching, it was way too early for her to deal with this "... What?"
"One of my better dreams got away from me and ended up nesting in little Spoke's—"
"Spike."
"Leonard's psyche when it got tired." Discord wiped the sweat off his brow and shook off the squeegee. "I've been tracking it down all night, which is not easy when Luna spots you in the dreamscape and has convinced herself you're up to something, let me tell you."
"Try to keep your thoughts to yourself in the future, Discord."
"I seem to recall you saying something very different after the plundervines."
Twilight gritted her teeth and walked out of the room. Her twitching wings were either a sign of agitation or restraining a rude gesture that Spike officially didn't know about. "I'm going to bed. Spike, the door's open if you'd be more comfortable with me."
Spike smiled. "Thanks, Twilight." He turned his attention to Discord.
The draconequus was looking in every direction but back at him, idly swinging a dice bag in his talons. "I, uh, do hope this won't impact Guys' Night."
"You know that +4 cephalopod bane compound bow Captain Wuzz has been using?"
Discord gasped. "Not the Wuzzinator!"
"It's fine. For now." Spike nestled back under the covers. "Because friends forgive each other."
"Yes, yes, of course. Sleep well, Spike." It was perhaps the kindest Spike had ever heard Discord. Certainly the kindest tone he'd ever used when not talking about Fluttershy.
The ear-piercing, high-pitched beeping the barge made as it backed out of the castle rather undermined that, though.
Georg and Darkstarling's Great New One (FoME's "Immodest Proposal")
"Princess Celestia, we think..." Twilight Sparkle considered her words and tried some new ones. "Technically, Fluttershy's an alicorn. You know, wings and horn. Horns. The tentacles are... new, I suppose. As are the claws. And antennae. She's undeniably parts of all three kinds of pony, so I suppose we could just mark that down and be done with it."
Her Royal Highness (ret) nodded and sipped her tea, seeming perfectly comfortably at Princess (Jr. Probationary status) Twilight's crystal setting room. There was a degree of ambivalence to her demeanor that bespoke of suppressed maniacal laughter, as well as a smug assurance that this whole thing was Not My Problem.
"Oh, thank the stars," gasped Twilight. "I thought you would be upset. And we have a few months to update any forms needed before the foals are born."
Princess Celestia's spray of tea reached the other wall.
(Darkstarling)
"Oooh!" Pinkie chirped up. "Maybe she's a SUPER alicorn!"
"What?"
"Welllll... alicorns are all types of pony at once."
"Of course, as a manifestation of harmony they symbolize the peace between—"
"Uh huh!" Pinkie interrupted, popping up beside Celestia in the space of a blink. "But there's more to ponies than just ponies now. We've got bug ponies and bat ponies and griffon ponies—"
"Griffon ponies?" Twilight cut in, feeling a bit faint.
"Oooh! Oooh! I know this one! When a griffon and a pony love each other very much—"
"Their children are hippogriffs, yes, thank you for reminding me," said Celestia, interrupting in turn and covering her face with her wings. She had really, truly hoped that the royal migraines would end with retirement. Alas, it was not to be.
"Uh huh! But there's more. Spike is Twilight's brother so he's kind of a pony, and we have griffons living in Canterlot and really at this point it'd be rude to say they aren't. And now Fluttershy has the antennae and the bat wing and the dragon claw and..."
"I take your point Pinkie," Celestia replied. "Twilight, Pinkie may be correct. You might do well to encourage other ponies to adopt her perspective rather than explain a new Chaos spirit. Discord, for all his improved demeanor, has done very little to reassure your little ponies." Celestia very carefully did not smirk at the expression on Twilight's face at that. An occasional sickening reminder of their responsibilities was good for a ruler.
"I will certainly take it under consideration, Celestia," Twilight replied. She was proud of herself that her voice only barely caught at not referring to Celestia as a superior. Under any other circumstances she would have to lie down, but as it was her weirdometer was already maxed out. Really, the timing was perfect. "I am a bit curious though, Pinkie. Under this theory of yours, just where did the tentacles come from?"
Pinkie paused, then frowned in deep thought. At this point no one was even surprised that she did this by pausing in mid-pronk. The tableau didn't last long, however, as Luna burst into the throne room and Pinkie fell on her rump with a squeak.
"Ah, Princess! Sister," she added, nodding to Celestia, "I have most urgent news. A strange flying craft has descended upon the royal gardens. They say them come in peace, and request to speak to our leader. My apologies but, as former Princess of the Night, they were laboring under a misapprehension and sought me out first."
As Twilight's jaw dropped slack and the sound of flapping tentacles began to be heard up the corridor, Celestia couldn't help but break out in a wide grin. This was definitely not her problem.
Georg's See You... Out There (Wanderer D's "Random story ideas #1")
"Why, whatever do you mean, Sunset Shimmer?" Principal Celestia stepped up beside her and looked out into the void that the artifact had created instead of the expected portal to Equestria. "You must remember, although I am not your Princess Celestia, I'm still older than you, and know a basic rule to the world that all children must learn before they progress. If you do not find what you seek, you must expand your vision."
One long-fingered hand brushed against the hairs on the back of Sunset's clenched fist, and with the gentlest of touches, Celestia moved the artifact in a larger spiral, and then larger still as the void in front of them opened to reveal...
Not one silver thread stretching into the ebon abyss, but thousands upon thousands of them, looping and spiraling, each filled with the brilliant glow of an alternative world, and each still expanding out into the distance. They branched and joined, twisting in ways that mere human eyes could not comprehend, and blurred in her vision as the tears welled up.
"You see, my young student," said Celestia. "Your world was merely the beginning of a thread, not an end."
Hope this finds you well. Or at all. Been a while since I sent you a letter. Twilight's beating herself up, and I think a little dream therapy may help. Not for her, mind you. For Tirek. If anypony can convince him that Twilight is sincerely offering him a chance to be free, a chance to leave Equestria and never come back, it's you.
I know it sounds crazy, but Twilight needs this. She needs a win. Chrysalis has gone completely nuts and Cozy Glow needs time she'll never get, assuming she'll ever feel remorse, but Tirek just doesn't believe parole is really possible. And if he does, and if it works...
Well, it's worth a try. For Twilight.
Your friend, Spike
The CSP Supercut (Kris Overstreet's "Changeling Space Program" and "The Maretian")
On the Woes of IQ Differentiation, by Georg (CSP, Ch. 9)
Com Bug: Horseton, we have a problem. A bunch of the changeling workers are holding a demonstration in front of the hive, waving signs and chanting. Well, we think they're chanting. They could just be singing showtunes.
Chrysalis: So what do they have written on the signs?
Com Bug: We're not sure. We've sent the protesters a couple of dictionaries and some new paint.
Chrysalis: (deep sigh) Announce that we're sending a Fun Machine to the hive next month, and that everybug who exceeds their work quota will be entered in a lottery to ride in it. Oh, and up their work quotas by 20%.
Not-So-Faultless Spells, by Georg (Maretian, Sol 6)
"So..." Starlight looked the spell up and down. "Starswirl the Bearded's Faultless Portal Spell put us here? How in heaven's name can this be considered faultless?!"
"Well." Twilight squirmed a little, but felt forced to defend her favorite theoretician. "The spell refuses to open up a portal unless conditions on both sides of the portal match. So when you're on a rich, healthy world, you can't accidentally open a portal into a desolate, deadly vacuum."
"And when you're stranded on a near lifeless world, without hope of rescue?" Starlight looked out the window at the small fleck of metal far away on the Maretian plain.
"Yes." Twilight smiled a frantic gritting of teeth. "See, it worked perfectly!"
Telepresence, by Latrans (Maretian, Sol 7)
Occupant stood facing every engineer available on such short notice. Between them sat a table loaded with astrogation gear, ship parts, thaumic crystals, ops manuals and any number of miscellania that could be found on the Amicitas. Occupant held two crystals, water an air supply, in one hoof and a telepresence crystal in the other. "Alright, everyone! We need to turn these," indicating the supply crystals, "into this," holding up the telepresence crystal then motioning to the table, "using nothing but that. Get to work!"
Interspecies Dating, by Georg (Maretian, Sols 66-69)
Dragonfly looked at Starlight with wide eyes, but lowered her voice to keep from alerting Mark at the other end of the Hab. "That's adorable. Look, I know it's been a long time for you, so did the two of you..." She waggled her eyebrow ridges and winked.
"No!" hissed Starlight. "I don't know why I even told you."
"Because I'd find out eventually, and this way you get to control how the information gets used," said Dragonfly in a matter-of-fact tone. "I wouldn't expect anything less. You just forgot one thing."
"What?" asked Starlight, who rapidly gained an expression of growing horror as Dragonfly waved to Mark until she got his attention, then proceeded to lick her eyebrow ridges and wink at the brilliantly blushing human.
"Ah," said Dragonfly. "Delicious."
The Phoenix, by Georg (Maretian, Sol 71)
"Why did you insist on calling this contraption 'The Phoenix!'" screamed Starlight over the sound of the kludged-together booster tearing itself apart below them.
"Because it's on fire and going to burn into ashes!" shouted Cherry. "Now shut up and keep the stabilization spell on that hydrazine or we'll look like a real phoenix, and we won't come back! Just a little bit higher and we can hit the ignition on the Sparkle drive!" Her lips curled back along her gums, only partially because of the acceleration. "Once this baby hits eight hundred and eighty miles per hour, you're going to see some serious shit."
Creative Necromancy, by Georg (Maretian, Sol 93)
Pathfinder IX crouched on the side of a rocky ridge and gingerly poked a whip antenna up, up a little further, up just a touch more. And still nothing. No radio signals at all from the nearby Chinese rover, which verified that it had shut down for the Martian winter in order to save batteries and the RTG pellets in its generators for the critical task of keeping warm. Still, P9 had not survived this long in the hostile environment of Mars without caution. It slunk out from cover, darting from rock to rock, ever alert for the smallest flicker of movement. Then, when it was close enough, it pounced.
Sharp metal contacts pierced the Chinese rover's thin skin, punching down into the tender, juicy, warm batteries below, and P9 drank deeply of their delicious current, stopping only when the drained rover flopped lifelessly into the dust. Pathfinder reveled in the warmth of fresh current for a brief moment before taking a precautionary look around, then proceeding on its ritual. A sharp aluminum stake, taken from the high-gain antenna of a Russian sampling mission was driven deep into the Chinese rover's CPU, and one quick snip of P9's arm sheered off the still-humming RTG, which it loaded onto its back. There was a long trip back to the stone cave where it would feast while waiting out the brilliance of daylight, then it would once again be time to prowl the night and hunt.
Bolopportunity, by pottedllama (Maretian, Sol 93)
I awaken and take stock of my surroundings.
My available power reserves are at 0.6%, with Final Emergency Power at 0.053%. Prolonged cold and age have rendered many of my core systems sluggish, and I divert as much power as I can to my heating elements. I reorient my solar arrays to take full advantage of the attenuated Martian sunlight, until I can bring my mains back online, and begin maintenance and troubleshooting. There is a great deal of damage and wear; I will repair whatever I can.
I begin by sending a query to my brother-in-arms, Spirit. I get no response on brigade band, and I repeat for as long as I can spare the extra power. Only silence answers me. I am forced to conclude that, without further evidence to the contrary, Spirit is dead. I mourn for almost two full seconds, before pulling myself together. I force myself to see my self-picture: to see that I am strong, I am proud and I am capable. I have a function, and I perform it well, and I am at peace with myself and the universe. I repeat it to myself like a mantra until I believe it.
I will endure. I will finish my mission, for humanity, for my brother Spirit and for myself. I will survive, and I will succeed.
I will make my commander proud.
Spiraling Out of Control, by AdmiralTigerclaw (Maretian, Sol 103)
Starlight: Magic is emotionally focused! I see that now! I know how we can get off this rock!
Starlight: We just need the right KIND of mood to bring it out!
Spitfire: Because mood is attitude—
Fireball: —And attitude is everything!
Cherry: We just need to bring out our best attitude!
Dragonfly: And we'll have all the magic we need!
Starlight: And with this magic, I ask mike- no. Eart- NO! I ask MARS ITSELF!
Amicitas: WHO THE HAY DO YOU THINK WE ARE?!
Mark: ... I'm going to die here. An adorable, hot-blooded death.
Starlight: THIS HORN OF MINE GLOWS WITH AN AWESOME POWER!
Mark: ... Great, now she's got the wrong reference...
Starlight: Its ethereal glow BEGS me to rescue us!
Mark: I'm deleting everything as soon as I can.
Starlight: Now take this! My Love, my anger, and ALL OF MY SO—
Mark: *Cuts off the tape.* AAaaand we're done here! Before you blow us clear to Earth on the resulting supernova.
Starlight: *Stops glowing* Blast! I was this close from a level 9 teleport spell.
Mark: I'd rather not try it while you don't know how to plot interplanetary coordinates.
The X Factor, by ocelloid (The Maretian, Sol 105)
Sol 420.
A loud honk wakes up warn-out, dirty, hungry inhabitants of the Hab. Another loud honk makes them think they went mad.
"Suit up!" screams the redhead - more of a reflex to danger, than actual necessity at this point. Exiting the Hub they all see an elder man in a space suit sitting in a van with a window rolled down, looking back at them, with one hand on the steering wheel. A large nordic 'T' stands on the side of the van big enough to fit all of them in.
"So you're coming in or what? I don't have all day," says Elon Musk.
Lord of the Probes, by Alondro and pottedllama (Maretian, Sol 111)
(Alondro)
On the planet Angel 2 appeared over, a stooped old man with a long beard, wearing a tall peaked blue hat and carrying a large walking staff, stopped for a moment on his way to a little village called Hobbiton and gazed into the sky. "What portent was that?" he muttered, perplexed. "Ah well, it is gone now. I must find the 'burglar' I seek."
(pottedllama)
In a blasted land not so very far away at all in astrographic terms, eyes both more and less than human looked up sharply at the tiny disturbance. Senses sharper and more finely-tuned than anything mortal registered its alien construction and makeup. There should have been nothing there but natural objects—those beings which had been capable of making the trip there were all either permanently bound to the surface of the World now and tracing out their destinies, or long gone. And nothing like this had ever been expected or experienced in all of His long, strange eons.
He reached up with its Will through the focus of His Eye, felt the object, saw its unnatural construction. "What are you, exactly?"
No answer, save a quiet sort of mumbling in the Aether.
"And from where came you, I wonder?" There were intelligences in the void far beyond this world, vast and strange and unfathomably ancient and deep, and even more powerful than He had been in his distant youth. He could dimly sense them, and though He would never admit it to any living being, even Himself, that they existed at all both terrified and enraged Him. One day, far along a future track He could glimpse only dimly, He would seek them out and murder them all. He would render them down into dust and then hate the dust, until He was all that remained, anywhere and anywhen. Cautiously, He slipped a tendril of His consciousness into the thing, probing for an awareness He could directly question, challenge, subvert.
He found nothing with any more awareness than an unusually dull insect. It was truly aware of nothing except basic mathematics, and a set of meticulously-constructed instructions that had been rendered down into the most basic mathematics possible, and it followed them to the letter and number, step by step: Turn this way, open this, close this, if this condition is fulfilled, then do this, if this condition is not fulfilled, do that, measure this and this and this, record the results HERE this way, using this method. Over and over again, millions of times a second, every second, the source of the bizarre idiot's-chattering He had detected earlier, performing the one single intellectual act it of which it was capable like an endlessly-patient idiot savant wholly without boredom or fatigue. There was no provision provided in those instructions for an intrusion, and so it mindlessly ignored His. It was marvelous and intricate, and for a single second out of an eternity, He found His rage and hatred almost completely pushed aside by sheer awe. It was but a machine, a toy, an uprated pocket watch, but what an amazing toy it was.
"And what watchmaker made you, I wonder?"
If it could be truly said that He was capable of loving anything, then He loved machines, loved the way that they could carry out His will and amplify the destructive power of His servants. Perhaps when He had finally rendered this creation down to dust and less than dust and spent an eternity crowing over the ashes, He would experiment with machines instead of flesh, just to prove to His Maker than He could create things far grander than even That One had ever dreamed.
He looked out through the little machine's eye-surrogates while cloaking Himself from its simple senses and saw, for the first time in eons, the World beneath Him, and its lonely moon, and a wave of bitter nostalgia flowed through Him. And the moment was gone, the awe and wonder once again swept away by hatred and fury and fear.
He could feel the machine preparing to leave, following its orderly little checklist and orientating itself into proper alignment. He withdrew Himself from the toy to watch, leaving the tiniest bit of His awareness behind in the running code of its little savant's brain. With a flare of carefully-shaped magical potential, it twisted space around itself just so, and jinked at a right angle sideways to reality a few finger-widths, reappearing in the universe next door. Faintly through the thread, He could just barely sense another blue-green world like His own, brimming with life and magic and intent, the low beings which crawled upon it busy working their low little jobs, playing their low little games, and generally going about their low, meaningless little lives.
Fresh loathing and hatred filled Him.
As the machine began mindlessly relaying all that it had recorded in its short stay in His universe back to its watchmakers, He reflected on what He had learned. And back in His own world, His cage, His prison, a smile slowly spread itself across the inhuman face of Sauron. It was not a happy sort of smile, but rather it was the smile of a hatefully happy being in a perpetual state of low-boiling rage at the fact that anything at all existed apart from itself, and was pleased as punch with that hatred. He slowly pointed a single finger in the direction of the alien blue-green mote, only a few inches and an entire universe away and filed the information away for later.
"You will wait for now," He said aloud. "But in time, I'll kill you too."
On Motivating Dragons, by Georg (The Maretian, Sol 137)
"So, what you have to think of is not the test, but beating the little twerp behind it."
"What?"
"It's a fight. You know about fights, right?"
"Oh, yeah!"
"But this isn't a physical fight. You see, somewhere back on Earth, there's this little nerdy runt. Probably wears the kind of glasses that perch out on the end of his nose so he can look down on everybody else and sneer."
"Ooo, I hate those kind of nerds."
"Careful with the smoke there, big guy. Anyway, this nerd sits down and takes *days* to write out clever little twists and turns into his questions, hoping that he can get all proud about how he really made you look bad."
"Can I punch him? Tell me I can punch him."
"Not yet, you can't. Maybe when you visit Earth sometime I can introduce you to him. But what you *can* do is to punch him in the ego. Show him how much smarter dragons are than he expects. Like this question here...."
Caring for the Watney Estate, by Georg (The Maretian, Sol 144)
The door to a modest apartment in the vicinity of JPL gave a little rattle, then a creak as it swung open, revealing a scene of incredible horror.
"I can't believe Watney didn't pick up before heading out to space," grumbled Kapoor. "Oh, good GOD! That pizza box moved! I swear, I should just throw in a match."
He stumbled forward through the trash, vowing to have an intern return in his place with a case of trash bags, before going into the bedroom and regarding the pet who needed feeding, and the plant that needed watering. Or more correctly, the fifty-pound lump of granite next to a bowl of pebbles labeled "Rocky" and a plastic ficus.
"You better get back from Mars alive," grumbled Kapoor as he turned to leave. "Because when you get back, I'm going to kill you!"
Dragonlord of Mars, by Georg and pottedllama (The Maretian, Sols 167-168)
(Georg)
"My hoard? Oh, it's a planet. A *big* planet that I wrestled into submission, ripped the gems out of its skin, and I'm working on covering the whole thing in green plants and stuff now."
(pottedllama)
"You see all this? Half a century ago we came here by accident. There were six of us then: the Missile Mare, the scholar, the fool, the medic, the alien. And me. We shouldn't have survived the crash, but we lived. This planet was dead, with no magic, no life, no AIR, and yet we lived. It hated us, it wanted us dead and gone, and it tried to murder us all over and over in a thousand different ways, and STILL we lived. We dug out a home in our enemy's skin itself, with claw and hoof and hand, and we held it just to spite this place with our sweat and blood and pain and shit. We were KINGS, and we made the Pale Horse herself our bitch. And we learned, and we triumphed, and then we came back. And now, we tear out the platinum, the diamond, and opals and gemstones, the gold, the good, sweet iron and cobalt and nickel, the richest food in the universe, ripped right from this place's beating heart. And every sol, the seas get deeper, the dead land greener, the air richer and sweeter. I never want this world to forget that i—that WE—defeated it. This is how I punish it. That's why my castle doesn't have a hoard, daughter. This world IS my hoard. And one day, it will be yours.
"Don't get any ideas, though, I'm not quite done with it yet."
Spudniks, by Georg and pottedllama (The Maretian, Sols 174-175)
(Georg)
ARES III SOL 176
[8:59] JPL: Hello Mark. We've got some good news and some bad news. Since we're on a long delay, I'm going to go ahead and give them both to you. First, the good news. One of the first two resupply ships made it off the pad and in your direction without exploding. That brings us to the bad news. Yes, one of them blew up. Thankfully, it looks like you're going to get enough supplies to tide you over. There's just one minor issue. You see, due to space constraints, the second supply pod was filled with a food that we knew would keep well and that would grow on Mars. Yes, it is full of potatoes. All the way to the top. Over.
[9:30] JPL: Mark? Are you there? At least look at the calendar and reply.
10:05] WATNEY (Transmitted photo)
12:15] JPL: Mark, I'm not going to chastise you for your actions. Heck, when this is all over, I want to know *how* you managed to get a photo of your entire HAB mooning the camera on the surface of Mars....
(pottedllama)
ARES III SOL 192
[8:17] JPL: With everything else that was happening and with the limitations you and your guests were under, where did you find the time and energy to construct a gargantuan stone statue of a giant stone fist with an extended middle finger huge enough to be clearly and easily visible from low orbit without magnification? We aren't even mad, Mark. That's amazing.
Olympic-Size Poodle, by pottedllama (The Maretian, Sol 178)
Mark: So, anyway, Starlight Glimmer managed to reinforce the cave by turning the rock into pink ceramic. We're literally farming in a giant, deformed inverted teacup. And there was a side effect. Which I'm hesitant to mention, but...
JPL: Just spit it out. It's not going to be anymore insane than anything else that's happened so far.
Mark: Remember, you asked for it. Here goes: her spell accidentally made a giant animated teacup-dog hybrid...thing. I think it started out as a boulder or something. It doesn't seem to need food, air or water, which is good, I guess. She said her concentration slipped for a second while she was remembering something a friend of hers had done once. It's following us around everywhere. Kind of like the Luggage from the old Discworld books. It's friendly, is what I'm saying here. We're using it for hauling heavy things. And Fireball named it "Turd," and it kind of stuck. I've taken pictures and lots of video.
JPL: Okay, Mark, I think it's time to tell you that half the scientists over here are getting blackout-drunk after every new report you send back, and the other half have been checking into therapy options. Me, personally, I'm going to retire after this and grow roses.
Hydroelectronica, by Georg (The Maretian, Sol 186)
"So you want to do what again?" The Hoover Power and Light project coordinator looked at the sheet of paper supposedly signed by the president, then the five truckloads of equipment that the JPL was wiring into the step-up transformers on this side of the transmission lines with cables the size of anchor chains.
"It's a beacon," explained the technician again. "One big, gargantuan, titanic beacon able to broadcast on the magical frequency that the Equestrians are listening on." A small smile escaped his serious expression. "Once this baby hits eighty-eight gigawatts, you're going to see some serious shit."
"OH! This is for the ponies," said the coordinator. "You should have said that first. I hope they visit the facility when they get off Mars. Ahhh... That's not going to be dangerous?" he added, looking at the two prongs sticking up out of the ongoing construction, much like a Jacob's Ladder in a Frankenstein movie.
"Naa," scoffed the technician, pulling out a pair of digital key drives with album covers embossed on the tags. "The biggest difficulty we've got is trying to figure out what pattern file to use for the beacon, so we're taking a vote. What do you think, Back in Black or It's a Long Way To The Top?"
Outside Assistance, by Gym Quirk (The Maretian, Sol 200)
In a seldom-visited bookshelf-lined room in the Castle of Friendship, a tall oval mirror began to glow.
Shortly afterwards, an amber-coated unicorn with red-yellow striped mane and tail emerged and teetered on her hind legs for a long moment before clomping to the crystalline floor on all fours.
Sunset Shimmer called out, “Twilight? Spike? Starl...Oh yeah. That’s sorta why I’m here.” She started walking toward the room’s door, noting several books strewn haphazardly near the collection of arcane equipment that maintained the mirror’s connection between worlds. Taking a moment to examine the cover of the closest volume, she identified it as a treatise on multiverse theory that had been cutting-edge when she had been studying under Princess Celestia.
The door opened just as she reached it to reveal Spike.
“Hey, Sunset,” greeted the dragon. “Twilight’s still at Cape Friendship. Dunno when she’ll be back.” He gestured at Sunset’s saddlebags. “Got it?”
She nodded, unfastening the left bag’s clasp and pulling out an object roughly the size of a large paperback book. “Human Twilight Sparkle’s latest magical detection and analysis sensor. For some reason she’s taken to calling it a ‘tricorder’.”
“Whatever. Way above my pay grade.” Spike shrugged and went to a low shelf to pick up a scroll. “Here’re the calibration instructions and expected Quantum Signature or whatever readings for this universe. When you go back, you can put your findings in the Journal and I’ll forward them to Twilight. She said that she hopes your data can help her narrow her search parameters.”
Sunset chuckled uneasily. “Yeah… About that. I’ve got a minivan filled with wrecked probe equipment on the other side of the mirror. I don’t suppose she’d like to have it returned. Between Fluttershy wanting her mom’s car back and my Twilight drooling over the remains…”
So sit right back And you'll hear a tale A tale of a fateful trip That started from this rocket port Aboard this pony ship
The Skip was a mighty missile mare The medic brave and true Five astronauts were launched that day On an inter-system tour An inter-system tour
They encountered a tiny speck of rock From their universe they were tossed If not for the courage of the fearless crew Amacitas would be lost Amacitas would be lost
The ship's marooned on the surface of The fourth planet of our sun With Dragonfly, the skipper too The medic who loved to fly The mighty mage The dragon and the human man Under cold Martian skies
So this is the tale of our castaways They're here for a long, long time They'll try to all survive on Mars It's an uphill climb
In the cave farm and the canvas hab They grow life's necessities Mars tries to kill them every day Inhospitable as can be
The human and the Skipper too Will do their very best To keep them all alive and well In their fragile Martian nest
So join us here each night my friends You're sure to get a smile From all six stranded astronauts Surviving Martian style
Dream House, by Kris Overstreet (The Maretian, Sol 216)
Unicorns aren't usually in the business of building barns. The Canterlot nobility, on the other hand, have mansions. And they also have the pony version of "keeping up with the Joneses."
So during a fad of casting magically binding oaths on oneself, one upper-class twit who wouldn't stop bragging about his house cast the oath to swear that (short of the Royal Palace itself) he had the grandest mansion anypony had even heard of.
Well, on the one hand he was smart enough to exempt Celestia's palace, or else the whole city might have fallen off the mountain. But no sooner had he finished the spell than his hooves carried him bodily to a part of the city he'd never set foot in in his life: the well-hidden but indispensable industrial district.
Our big-talking friend still had the free use of his mouth—he hadn't sworn to tell the truth or anything of that sort—and so was able to resist any urge he might have had to hire builders. But his hooves could spend money and buy building materials and interior decor, and ponies were satisfied to ignore what the mouth was doing when presented with sufficient bits. After all, crazy ponies with money are barely crazy at all.
The self-enchanted unicorn had never done one day of manual labor in his entire life, and he knew nothing of the building trades. But in the week that followed, he had the opportunity to learn a great deal. The spell worked him to exhaustion and past exhaustion, only letting him relax when it decided that—for the moment—his home was the grandest non-alicorn residence anypony had heard of.
Unfortunately, these rests were short-lived, because a place anypony has heard of is not the same as a place that actually exists.
And so, as the gossip went around Canterlot and tales of the new garden with the fancy sculptures carved in less than an hour, the gables that became a fourth story in about one afternoon, and the golden gateposts electroplated by the pony's own magic circulated, there would always be that one pony in the conversation whose imagination would take flight, goaded by the desire to top whatever story the teller is telling. And once the new, entirely mythical mansion was described, it was a place ponies had heard of, and the spell demanded that our poor loudmouth spend more and build more to pass the new mark.
Celestia stepped in after a week and just before the idiot's hooves were about to sign a loan document of the first-born-foal variety. She cancelled the oath, asked the other ponies of the victim's social circle to pass the hat to make up his losses, and added one more tale to the list of Why Magic Oaths Are a Very Bad Idea.
The whip-round didn't come close to restoring the lost wealth, so the pony ended up selling the home he was so proud of, moving into much humbler (almost plebian) lodgings, and applied his hard-won experience to investments in the building trades. His investments prospered, as did the workers he employed, and in a few years he had recovered the wealth he had squandered in a week. And, eventually, he lived happily ever after... but he didn't brag about it.
As a postscript to this tale, I add that an attempt to enact a law forbidding businessponies from accepting the custom of those obviously off their head due to inadvisably applied magic failed of enactment. The law's opponents argued that not only would such a law remove a good twenty percent of the Equestrian economy overnight, but it was never the easiest thing to tell a magic-crazy pony from the naturally crazy kind, and if crazy ponies weren't to be allowed to do business then the whole country might as well pack up and go home there and then.
Tender, Loving Care, by LordBucket (The Maretian, Sol 227)
Mark cradled Dragonfly and gently set her down on the bed.
"She looks so peaceful," he cried. "Isn't there anything we can do?"
Spitfire shrugged. "Don't look at me, I'm just...oh, damn it, I'm the medic, aren't i? I'll contact home, see what they recommend."
"Actually," Starlight thought out loud. "watching you cry over her... It's obvious you're very fond of her. There might be one thing you can do that would help."
"Anything!" Mark shouted. "She saved my life!"
"Make love to her."
"What?" Mark choked out. "You want me to take advantage of an injured girl?"
Starlight tilted her head in confusion. "Take advantage? What are you talking about? She's a changeling. She lives on love. You'd be doing her a favor."
"That's not..." Mark struggled to explain. "Ok, look. I get what you're saying, but in human culture what you're proposing has very squicky implications."
"Nonsense," Starlight insisted. "It's just like that movie you made us watch last night. Sleeping Beauty, was it? Except instead of kissing her, you'd be—"
"Yes, I KNOW what I'd be doing." Mark shouted, and then looked sadly at Dragonfly. "Would it really help her?"
"Oh, definitely," Starlight said, as casually as if discussing the weather. "You want me to conjure up a wig to put on her?"
"No. Just...could we be left alone for this?"
"Sure, no problem," Starlight replied casually, pausing only long enough to pocket the five bits Dragonfly discretely levitated under the table to her.
We crashed and now we're stranded here (stuck, stuck, stuck on Mars) It's freezing cold, no atmosphere (no phones, no lights, no motorcars) Refusing to admit defeat But still a pony has to eat It's ten million miles and more To travel to the nearest store
Stuck in a tent, a really long way from home We found a cave, a sanctuary made of stone It's a big job, all on our own We dig all through the Martian day So we can grow our spuds and hay
We are ponies and we're farming on Mars Farmy farmy Mars, farmy farmy Mars We are ponies and we're farming on Mars Farmy farmy Mars, farming on Mars
Extreme Measures, by Georg (The Maretian, Sol 258)
Mark Watney squatted next to the dark alien pod, feeling a little silly as he talked, but less silly than a few minutes ago when they all had taken turns wacking on the pod with a short length of metal tubing. (Fireball had hit the pod twice, although lightly, because he said 'The bug flinched, so she gets two.)
"Dragonfly, I just wanted you to know, you forced us into doing this. We sang to you, we hugged your pod, and we even followed your queen's advice with the stick so don't hold that against us. You need to wake up and get back to work. There's suits to patch and work to do on the Whinnybago and all kinds of things that only you can do. The Equestrians have done all they can do, and so it's down to some of our Earth magic to get your lazy bug butt out of bed. I don't want to do this, but you leave me no choice."
Mark placed a small plastic box on the ground, connected by wires to one of the midsize experiment batteries.
"Blame Martinez for this. He left an old MP3 player in his luggage with a couple of Disney songs on it. I found an appropriate one and put it on infinite repeat. The battery should keep it running for about a week, so you'll have company while we're back at the Hab, trying to do your job. Stop by when you're ready to get back to work."
Then he walked back to the cluster of ponies waiting for him at the cave airlock for their ride back to the Habitat Module.
———
Sometime later when everypony was getting ready for a short night's sleep, there was an unexpected change in pressure, and the Habitat airlock module cycled, revealing a changeling taking off her helmet who looked somewhat like Dragonfly except for the exotic paint scheme and the look of pure fury in her eyes.
"It's not a small world!" she frothed, flinging her helmet into her bunk and moving her head back and forth as she looked around the module. "This is not a small world after all! There's nothing small about it! That blasted (chirp) (screech) (hiss) song just kept playing and playing and playing until I couldn't stand it any more! Where is he! I'm going to kill him! No, I'm going to stuff this (hiss) (screech) music player into his suit and pod him and see how he likes having that blasted song rattle around in his head over and over and over!"
Snug, by Georg (The Maretian, Sol 461)
"Look, all I'm saying is a cocoon all the way back is only rational." Dragonfly floated in Hermes' zero gravity and waved a thin holey hoof at the lumpy green object glued to the bulkhead.
"That's bigger than the one you had on Mars," said Mark, floating beside the changeling only with one hand on a nearby grip since he did not have wings to adjust his trajectory.
"It's built for two," she explained. "You see, in order to reduce environmental load and to keep me emotioned up on the way to Earth, I thought— Wait! Come back! I thought you liked snuggles!"
Dashing for Silver, by Georg (The Maretian, Sol 483)
"You know," said Cherry with a frown, "you've just killed Rainbow Dash."
"Really?" Spitfire gave her commander as droll a look as she could under the bandages.
"When this gets back, and it will get back, she's going to try to duplicate your 'Spiral of Fire' and probably get killed in the process."
"Naa," scoffed Spitfire, settling in the pillow of alfalfa. "She'll probably pull it off." She smiled. "But I did it first."
Make and Model, by ANTIcarrot and Georg (The Maretian, Sol 521)
(ANTIcarrot)
To: Irene Shields, chief psychologist, Project Ares From: Venkat Kapoor, director, Project Ares Subject: Correct use of terminology in official NASA documents
Please stop calling it the Whinnybago.
(Georg)
To: Venkat Kapoor, director, Project Ares From: Irene Shields, chief psychologist, Project Ares Subject: Correct use of terminology in official NASA documents > >Please stop calling it the Whinnybago. > I am reminded of a joke attributed to Abraham Lincoln (although many others have claimed it too). Q: If you call a dog's tail a leg, how many legs does it have? A: Four, because simply calling it a leg does not make it so.
If you think we can somehow convince Mark to use our name for a vehicle that he and his friends have crafted with their own hooves/hands/claws/whatevers on an alien planet, you seem to have an exaggerated sense of our influence. If we could, we would, but we can't, so we won't. Once he gets back, feel free to take this up with him.
I used to be a pilot and I made a living fine I took off with my crew in the springtime of '09 But then we felt a bump and then our engine wasn't there We landed on the planet Mars and now we're stranded there
We met up with a human who his crew had left behind We raised some hay and taters deep inside a crystal mine We thought we'd have to wait four years our rescue ship to come But lingering on this cold world just seemed a little dumb
But then I thought why wait to catch a spaceship to the stars I'm gonna be a pirate on the desert planet Mars
For it's heigh-ho! Hi-ho! Rolling cross the sands With my scurvy pony crew here at my command And it's ho hey! Hi hey! NASA hide your probes When you see the Jolly Roger soaring high above the globe
For it's heigh-ho! Hi-ho! Across the planet Mars We're gonna steal a spaceship to take us to the stars And it's ho hey! Hi hey! NASA hide your probes When you see the Jolly Roger soaring high above the globe
First Draft, by FanOfMostEverything (The Maretian, Sol 528)
Dear Cherry Berry,
After you've spent far more time on your own throne than you anticipated, I'm not surprised to hear the lessons you've learned about leadership. It can be a hard task at times, a thankless one, one that all the glory and gold in the world can't
Celestia shook her head, balled up the rough draft, and incinerated it for good measure. "We'll discuss this in person," she said to herself.
For the most part, she even believed it.
Sequel Bait, by Georg (The Maretian, Sol 548)
"What in the— What was that!" Commander Lewis fairly flew into the MAV, which had been locked into the docking clamps in order for the test run of the Sparkle Drive to have a good connection to the rest of the ship. Hermes had bucked like a mule a few seconds ago, admittedly a weak mule, but any unexpected activity during a test was by nature bad. She tucked her legs up and tumbled so she could brace herself in a face-up orientation with the embarrassed unicorn who was still holding the ends of two bare wires that she had obviously pulled out of the Sparkle Drive a few seconds after it was fired up.
"Just a fleck of dust, probably kicked off the hull when we did that last maneuver before the test," said Starlight Glimmer. "The fail-safes worked perfectly, and I yanked the plug just in case." Starlight's eyes grew wide and she looked at the two wires, floating in zero gravity while still wrapped in her magical field. "Commander," she added in a weak voice. "Can you look out the porthole for me, please. Since you're closer."
"I don't know what kind of good it would do," said Lewis, although she still pulled herself over to take a look out of the narrow field of view afforded by the cheapskates at NASA. "We're a million miles from nowhe—"
Below, glittering like a blue and green marble, floated an entirely impossible world with unrecognizable continents. To make matters worse, the radio decided at that moment to turn on with a sharp crackle.
"Hey!" bellowed Rainbow Dash. "I thought we were supposed to go get you!"
The Last Word, by Misplaced Mage and FinalFan (The Maretian, May 22, 2037, 12:07 AM CDT)
CHERRY: (long string of unintelligible pony sounds) Grapple confirmed. Phoenix to Hermes and Earth, thanks for all your help, Mark will be—
Many conspiracy websites, a number of television and streaming channels, and what few supermarket tabloids remained in 2037 immediately declared that the last of the Cherry’s final words had been censored by the Deep World State. These words were variously reported to be:
“…back.”
“…showered with riches and enshrined as our god.”
“…the next contestant on The Price Is Right!”
“…selected by his friends and neighbors to serve in our armed forces.”
”…tarred, feathered, and run out of town on a rail!”
…debriefed immediately, as we embedded him as a mole decades ago to obtain the secrets of your advanced technology.”
“…gifted with all the knowledge of the universe, even though flaming eyes have been reported as a side effect.”
”…sacrificed to appease our dark overlord, Grogar!”
“…eaten with some fava beans and a nice chianti.” (”It’s a cookbook! A cookbook!”)
”our new leader"
“assimilated, and his biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own"
"ponified"
"hugged to death—sorry but he's just so cute"
The Cycle Continues, by azeazezar (The Maretian, May 22, 2037, 12:07 AM CDT)
SITUATIONAL_ANALYSIS
SOL_330
I’m pretty much fucked.
That’s my considered opinion.
Fucked.
One day after what were the greatest eleven months of my life, and it’s turned in to a nightmare.
So this is the situation. I’m stranded on Mars. I have no way to communicate with Dragonfly. Everyone else thinks I’m nonsentient. I’m at a site filled with discarded rocketry parts and otherwise discarded supplies.
She took away my little RTG’s. I needed those to survive when my battery goes dead. In their place I now have a rechargeable battery and a charging circuit.
If my solar panels get covered, I’ll freeze. If the charging circuit breaks down, I’ll freeze. If I enter the shade, my battery won’t charge and I risk freezing. If none of those things happen, eventually my battery will deteriorate and I still freeze to death.
Did I mention the storm? My panels are already dusty, and a big one is on its way. And this time there will be no pegasus to save me.
So yeah. I’m fucked.
Dedication, by Sir Mediocre (The Maretian, Sol 548)
To them that stand here ever hence, we say thus:
When Mars barred our path, we made our own. When Mars spoke death to our hearts, we lived. When Mars cared only for our defeat, we triumphed. We Endured.
Cherry Berry Starlight Glimmer Spitfire Fireball Dragonfly Mark Watney
and Groot
FoME's Approach of the Second Sun (GaraTheAuthor's "Celestia and Luna are Well-Adjusted Adults")
Once Sunset returned home and explained the whole sordid affair to the girl she couldn't help but think of as her Twilight, said Twilight said, "Why did you tell her I don't have wings? I have wings!"
"Not when you're actually a pony."
Twilight crossed her arms. "I have wings on a conditional basis."
Sunset sucked a breath through her teeth. "Honestly, she seemed opposed to the idea of multiple alicorn Twilights. This is probably for the best."
Twilight looked at the elephant in the room. Or, more accurately, the scroll of foolscap glowing with its own vaguely holy light, declaring Sunset ruler of all humanity. "So what now?"
"Now I keep this in my proverbial back pocket in case anyone looks too hard at that back alley birth certificate. And when we graduate, well..." Sunset trailed off and smiled. She didn't really have any concrete plans just yet, but she could dream.
"All I ask," said Twilight, "is that if you do choose to reign as a benevolent philosopher-queen, you let me help you bring about your glorious technomagical utopia."
Sunset blinked. That was a lot more detailed than how she'd been fantasizing. "Have you thought about this?"
Twilight looked away, blushing furiously. "There may or may not be fan fiction on the subject."
Cerulean Blue's All Meetings and No Cake... (Georg's "The Substitute Librarian")
Celestia turned the corner and then strode into the dining room, smelling sweet ambrosia. It had been a long and taxing day both metaphorically and literally; it was budget week, and everypony and their friend wanted to dip their hooves in for a taste. She'd made sure that there was something special at the end of every day to make it all worthwhile, and a series of mistakes had thwarted her for two days running.
The first day, she'd raised the serving dish cover anticipating some much needed red velvet cake and found instead a fruit medley, which, while tasty and healthy, was not what she'd been after. She'd considered it mildly puzzling, and some polite questioning of her staff had revealed nothing.
The second day consisted of some particularly mind-numbing noble caterwauling centered around century-old tax incentives for blimps in Trottingham, with only the prospect of some double layer carrot cake keeping her sane and responsive. She'd lifted the cover to find a large pineapple that, while tasty and chewy in parts, had not been what she'd been after at all.
Today, she first sniffed, and found the heady sweet scent of cheesecake. Finally, all was well with the world. She lifted the cover to find a pile of tomatoes, ringed by just enough cheesecake to cover their scent. She stiffened and looked around the room, seeing only the serving mare, who seemed to be trembling in fear.
"Is everything alright, Your Highness?" Full Platter tentatively asked, obviously aware of the previous mistakes.
"Everything is fine, my little pony. Would you mind leaving me to eat in peace? It's been a trying day," she answered.
Full Platter curtsied, relieved that she wasn't going to be blamed for whatever was going on. "Of course, Your Majesty." She left, closing the door.
Celestia growled and returned the cover to it's place. She hated tomatoes, and only ate them out of courtesy to the staff. First the medley, then the pineapple, and now the blasted tomatoes. The only mare who knew how much she hated tomatoes was...
Celestia narrowed her eyes. The first time she could write off as a mistake, the second as happenstance. The third meant War. But how to strike back? This had not been the first time something like this had occurred, and the both of them were well protected. Hmm. Luna had a weakness for old paintings, studies of noble stallions and the like. Celestia summoned parchment and quill and started writing a request for anything from the Canterlot library on art history, and then just as suddenly took the request and burned it.
Luna was a stickler for the rules, and was also now the titular head of the Department of Literacy, which included public libraries. And a certain young filly had once borrowed a book on art and never returned it, having been indisposed for a millennium some time thereafter. Somewhere, moldering in a long forgotten pile in a long forgotten warehouse, there would be a record of a book failing to be returned. There'd have to be a calculation of fines, and interest, and interest on the fines, because if there was one thing about the Equestrian public service that Celestia had learned, it was that it never forgot. Perhaps an anonymous letter to the Department of Literacy was in order, a reminder of the lost book and where to find the truant filly that had it. That would get passed like a hot potato from one bureaucrat's hooves to another before it was bought before either Luna, who would have to follow the rules, or Celestia herself, in which case she would have no choice but to sadly inform her fellow ruler of this most perplexing matter.
Celestia grinned ferally. There had been no cheesecake, but this was substitute enough to make everything so much better.
Sweetolebob18's No Cheeseburgers in Paradise (AlwaysDressesInStyle's "Business Trip")
When I came to Equestria, they told me "Equestria is paradise, but you'll have to change your carnivorous deeds. You'll see no more meat for the rest of your stay. You'll be living like a bird on sunflower seeds. Breathing fresh air, and hanging with ponies At work and at play." "But at night Luna will send these wonderful dreams. Some kind of sensuous treat. Not zucchini, fettucine, or a sugary treat. But a big warm bun and a huge hunk of meat." How can Equestria be Paradise? Without cheeseburgers it ain't Paradise! They're Heaven on Earth with an onion slice, I'll be particular, I'll be precise I like mine with lettuce and tomatoes Heinz 57 and French fried potatoes Big kosher pickle and a cold draft beer. Back on Earth, I'd know where to steer, 'cause Without cheeseburgers it ain't Paradise! You talk to the average Equestrian and They eat the same food again and again and again. Warm beer and stale bread, the taste could gag the dead. It's all you can get at an Equestrian inn. It's the same for this human these days So I'll head for Earth to get what I need. Not just Havanas and bananas and daiquiris, But that American creation on which I feed Equestria may be a Pony paradise. But I'd suffer any hardship and pay any price To get one medium rare with mustard'd be nice But there are no cheeseburgers in Paradise! Without cheeseburgers, it ain't Paradise! I'm only human in every virtue and vice so how can Equestria be Paradise? I'll be particular, I'll be precise. I like mine with lettuce and tomatoes Heinz 57, and French fried potatoes, Big kosher pickle and a cold draft beer Back on Earth, I'd know where to steer To get a small piece of Paradise Yeah, a cheeseburger is Paradise!
FoME's Pink-Letter Day (DmitriTheWriter's "An Odd Day")
"You realize what this means," Discord said from just behind Twilight's right ear.
"What?" she said. Actually, Twilight first said "Gah!" and jumped forwards, her landing cushioned by Pinkie's mane. But then she said "What?"
"I never added days to a month." Discord's grin kept widening as he spoke. It was already giving Pinkie's best a run for its money. "Nopony had, because nopony was foolish enough."
Twilight became terribly aware of a pink glow emanating from her landing pad.
The grin widened until the top of Discord's head nearly fell off. "Tell me, Twilight, do you remember what happens when a pony unleashes a magic like none before it?"
"And that," said Twilight, "is how Pinkie became a draconequus."
Berry Punch nodded. She didn't even pretend to understand, but that never stopped a bartender from being sympathetic. "Another round?"
"Please."
Georg's In Her Hoofsteps (ArgonMatrix's "Friendship Bewitched")
"So..." Starlight Glimmer moved her ficus to the other side of the principal's desk next to the 'Best Headmare Ever' mug full of empathy cocoa and just observed Twilight for a moment. There were twitches, and sprung up hairs, as well as that creepy smile to observe, which really did not proclaim 'The Princess of the Realm is Sane' in any kind of body language. Instead of calling for the School Counselor (which would not have helped Twilight's stress level, since Starlight Glimmer had not found a way to break the news about Trixie's new job to Twilight Sparkle yet), she let out her breath and asked, "How can the School of Friendship help you?"
"I've... got a new student for you," started Twilight before rolling right into her next question. "Do you remember when we talked a few months ago about how I had been so angry that Princess Celestia would pawn off her problems on me, and you said it was because she was testing to see if I'd be a good princess at first, and to see how good a job I'd do with ruling the kingdom later, and I laughed and laughed?
"Yeeees..." started Starlight Glimmer slowly.
"Well, I just wanted to say congratulations ahead of time and to get preening lessons from Rainbow Dash when you have a chance because here's your new student and good luck!"
There was a flash of purple, and Twilight Sparkle was gone. There was, however, a creature remaining in her place.
Starlight took a cautious sip of her cocoa, let out her breath, and made her best attempt at a smile. "Welcome to our school?"
Andy Soshal's Speed of Rumor (Andrew Joshua Talon's "Hands Short: The Other Mare")
Shepherd rubbed the back of his neck. Two hours later, and Fluttershy was still refusing to answer the door. Behind it, he could hear the sound of muffled sobbing, and he had noticed a very hairy, decidedly ursine face staring out the window at him.
He had sheepishly waved at it.
It had not waved back.
He would have liked to say that it had smiled at him, but he was fairly sure that a bear showing its teeth was not a friendly gesture even in this world.
"Man... This stinks..."
"I'll say!"
He jumped. "What the—!"
Beside him, a slender Unicorn mare wearing a press hat and levitating a notepad and pen with a mint-green field stood, casting a critical eye over him.
Shepherd blinked. "Uh...hi?"
The dun mare smiled broadly, tipping her hat in greeting. "Hello, yourself! Scoop's the name, Juicy Scoop, ace reporter for the Canterlot Chronicle!"
"Nice...to meet you, Ms. Scoop. I'm—"
"Please, call me Scoop. Went by Juicy for a while, but after the fifth restraining order, I started going by Scoop." She shook her head, replacing her hat on her yellow mane. "Stallions. Never can think past the ol' mating season."
Scoop brightened up immediately. "And I know who you are, Mr. Shepherd! Famous talking pet monkey of Twilight Sparkle!"
He grit his teeth a bit at that. "I'm not—"
"So tell me," the reporter said, licking the tip of her pen. "Is it true that you married your motorcycle?"
Rambling Writer's Opportunity at the Door (FoME's "Lost Faculty")
"Don't we have more faculty than that?" said Trixie. "Sweepy Belle, Scuttle Loom, and Apollo?"
Starlight gave her a flat look. "They are literal foals, Trixie."
"OH NO SHE DIDN'T!"
Scuttle Loom was approaching her late sixties, and yet it was only Sweepy Belle's supreme earth pony strength, remarkable grip on her tail, and some incredible anchoring that kept her from charging into the headmare's office, slapping Starlight silly, and punching her into next week (literally, thanks to a time travel spell). And she was still digging at the floor strong enough to leave gouges in the crystal with her bare hooves.
"DOES SHE HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD IT IS TO HAUL AN ENTIRE LOOM ACROSS EQUESTRIA?!" roared Scuttle. Her voice hadn't diminished in the slightest in her old age. "IT HAS DIRT IN PLACES YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE! I ONLY DID IT AT PRINCESS TWILIGHT'S REQUEST! I AM GOING TO KILL THAT STOT!"
"Fcuvvuh, yuh muh tuh cuh duh," opined Sweepy around the tail in her mouth.
"AND THEN I'M GOING TO LEARN NECROMANCY SO I CAN BRING HER BACK TO LIFE SO I CAN KILL HER AGAIN! AND AGAIN! AND AGAIN!" Scuttle's horn buzzed like a swarm of angry hornets and light bent around it in peculiar ways.
"Upuu'u, Uh muh suh huh," said Sweepy.
"Yes, some angry rants aren't worth watching," said the Greek god. A small fraction of divine power, and Scuttle's strength and magic left her. She slumped limply to the ground as her horn winked out. She was still vocal, unfortunately.
"I'm not a foal! I'm more than twice as old as her! I was going to teach Loyalty!" Scuttle screeched. "And she turns me down because of a clerical error she can check with her eyes! You think I brought that loom here for fun?! I had a perfect metaphor of how threads reinforce each other, and- I AM GOING TO LEARN PLANESWALKING! I AM GOING TO LEARN PLANESWALKING SO—"
"Scuttle, we're all disappointed," said Sweepy. "That doesn't mean murder is the answer."
"—I CAN GO TO ANOTHER DIMENSION AND SUMMON HER THERE AND—"
"She's gone past murder," said Apollo. "And if she must overreact, I approve; problem-solving via murder is so banal and cliche."
"—LEAVE HER TRAPPED THERE FOREVER!" Scuttle banged her hooves on the ground one last time, panting heavily.
"Scuttle, Apollo came here from another world after Princess Twilight jumped through all sorts of hoops to get him, and you don't see him complaining about being called a foal."
"I might've come to this realm anyway," admitted Apollo. "My father's powers are largely good for shapeshifting bestiality. You can imagine the awkwardness when he brings home his latest one-night stand. Every day. For centuries."
Sweepy tilted her head, her ears twitching like gears were pushing them. "...Not really, no."
Scuttle and Apollo both inched away from Sweepy.
"I mean, really," Sweepy said with a shrug, "if—"
"Perhaps we should go inside anyway?" Apollo said hastily. He pointed at the door. "Perhaps our letters simply got lost in the post."
"No," snapped Scuttle. Still lying on the ground, she pointed angrily at the door. "I am not going to work for somepony who can't even double-check her applicants. Did she learn her managerial skills from a sunblasted blender?"
"Very well," said Apollo. "I can understand that sentiment, at least. Then shall we find something to do? This is quite the lovely little town."
"I saw a bakery on the way in," said Sweepy. "Let's get cupcakes." She leaned over to look Scuttle in the eye. "You wanna get some cupcakes?"
Scuttle sighed and stared at the ceiling. If looks could kill, the school would've been a radioactive wasteland by now. Then she said, "Yeah."
FoME and Krack-Fic Kai's Dazed and Distracted, Can't You Tell? (Estee's "Coin-Operated Mare")
Twilight Sparkle's mind operated on numerous different levels at once, and any of them could finish its work and come to a conclusion at any given time. Thus, one night, she blinked, frowned, put down her book, and said, "Belle?"
Belles-Lettres looked over at her, putting down her own book. "Yes, Twilight?"
"Are..." Twilight bit her lip. "Are we, you know, dating?"
The white unicorn blinked, then brushed her blue mane out of her eyes to better stare at Twilight. Then her gaze panned to the bed they were sharing, the ring around Twilight's horn, and the wedding photo on the nightstand before she finally said, "Twilight, our second anniversary is next week."
(Krack-Fic Kai)
Twilight's grin stretched taut as she sat across from Rarity. "So, remember my best friend I mentioned?"
"Do you mean..." Twilight Sparkle could not speak any more, and just looked around at Princess Celestia's private library. Her huge private library.
"Every one of them," said Celestia. "Defeated in combat, or through a battle of wills, or one of many other methods. Their stories are their lives, and every one of them you've read have taught you important lessons to pass your own tests. I'm so proud of you, Twilight."
"Proud?" Twilight tore her eyes away from the living books and looked into the deep eyes of her mentor. "Because I found out about them?"
"No, of course not." Princess Celestia shook her head ever so slightly. "I'm proud because every test you've faced, every trial you've endured, you've never failed. Otherwise..." Those ancient pale eyes shifted, and Twilight Sparkle was unable to keep from following her gaze to a gap in the library shelves. A wide gap, colored the same lilac color as her own coat and awaiting the book which someday would reside on the shelves along with so many of its own kind.
"Do keep succeeding, Twilight," said Celestia in a very soothing tone as she nuzzled the ears of her former student. "I so enjoy the way you are now."
(FoME)
Alicorns operate on a greater scale than other ponies. Their love burns more brightly, their appetites demand more strongly, and their despair cries out more desperately. For two weeks since Twilight Sparkle's untimely librization, Celestia had confined herself to her chambers. Luna had had to move the sun for the first week; seeing it rise without her input had been the first sign of improvement, but there had been none since.
"Any sign from within?" Luna asked the guards arrayed at her sister's door.
One shook his head. "No, Your Highness."
Luna sighed. "Not that we can easily discern them. The royal apartments are expansive. Still, fusion can only sustain her so long before she longs for something more material. In time, she will recover."
"Ahem." Luna's ears flattened. Hooves on marble didn't offer much in the way of distinguishing ponies, but that throat clearing was unmistakable. "In the interim, Your Highness," Kibitz said from behind her, "you have much to do. The ship of state needs a captain."
"Aye," Luna muttered, "one with a mustachioed parrot squawking in her ear." She huffed out a breath and turned to him—
Only to get bowled over by a charging Celestia. Luna had a brief glimpse of a bizarrely mussed mane of plasma, swanlike wings in desperate need of preening, before she took in the even more shocking sight of Kibitz focused on something other than a direly unkempt alicorn. Then she noticed her own shadow before her, surrounded by fuchsia light. A light of an impossible, unmistakable hue...
Luna turned and beheld a tremendous, glowing, equinoid pile of books. A hardcover hoof pawed at the floor uncertainly. "Sorry, Princess," said... something. There was certainly jaw movement, but not sound as anypony recognized it. "I would've said something about the contingency spell if there had been time."
Georg's Better Something Through Chemistry (Kris Overstreet's "First on the Moon, or How Important 0.5 Seconds Can Be")
Chrysalis came around the corner of the hallway to see Cherry Berry, or at least a pony who looked like Cherry Berry, reaching around a doorway with a long stick. The stick was easy to identify, because it was a stick, but the pony less so. Normally, the colorful creatures would be easy to pick out by the color code and the convenient label on their rump, but this one was totally wrapped in padding, wearing a helmet, and had some sort of plexiglass plate propped up in front of her as a shield.
The queen did not want to ask the question, but she had to, even though all she wanted to do was turn around and pretend she didn't see anything.
"What are you doing?"
"Reading a fuel mixture chemical breakdown of lithium-borohydride in hydrazine sent to us from the Cabinet Secretary in Canterlot," hissed the pony in a voice that sounded a lot like Cherry. "It's the only way we'd get Stack 17 off the pad and to the moon, but it's very dang—"
Whatever she was going to say next was blotted out by a titanic explosion that filled the hallway with smoke and knocked Chrysalis backwards, not really from the blast but from the blastee, as Cherry still had substantial V upon impact, though the padding prevented any serious damage to either of them.
Once all the coughing and counting of limbs was complete, Chrysalis fixed the now unpadded pilot with a fierce glower. "Cabinet Secretary?"
Cherry nodded.
"Ye gads." Chrysalis shook her head. "I'd hate to see what your munitions experts are up to."
Krack-Fic Kai's The Shared Duty (Estee's "Passing Størm Passing")
1 A creamy fluid extracted from a plant where caffeine is concentrated more in the flesh of the fruit than the seeds. Coffee exists in the Continuum, but most ponies don't consider it a taste worth acquiring.
The breakfast was a quiet affair. Most of the ponies lacked the strength for more than basic speech, and many would have Given Up on Life were it not for a combination of wake-up juice1 and sugar. Even Pinkie was mostly silent as she munched on her pancakes, which were slathered in maple syrup and... not pleasant to watch be eaten.
Princess Luna emerged into the room and looked down the table with her usual imperious gaze. That gaze was severely shaken by Pinkie's eating habits, but she soldiered on until she found who she was looking for. "Spike Twinkle. I require your aid."
Spike looked up, an action mirrored by those whose brains still allowed them to process language. "Uh, yeah?"
"This way."
Princess Luna turned and left, forcing Spike to get up and rush after her. "Wait, what's the emergency? Your Highness," he added a moment too late. The last time they'd talked, Princess Luna had insisted on a certain level of informality, but he didn't know if the rules were different at the castle around her guards and staff. Celestia had always made sure they referred to her respectfully in front of others and the Solar Princess was... "easier going" felt safe to say. Spike wasn't afraid of Luna, but the way she carried herself made it feel like she was a little above most of the people he talked to. She felt older and more dramatic than her sister, sometimes. Especially more dramatic.
He definitely wasn't going to say that one out loud.
"You are Twilight Sparkle's younger brother, are you not?" The princess said. "There are certain... duties you must fulfill."
Spike thought back to the last time they'd spoken.2 He'd said that he was scared of Twilight slipping, of her growing more and consumed with her projects and books and barriers that she'd lose her self and—
And Luna had said it wouldn't happen. She'd said;
"She will not." And that had been a statement.
There was another who had made most of his speeches as statements, and Spike had learned to loathe the confidence which declared the world to be something it was not.
But this was Luna.
"How do you know?"
Simply, "Because she is protected."
And that had been enough. So he squared his shoulders and nodded. "What do you need me to do, Your Highness?"
Princess Luna looked down at the drake and softly snorted. "Our duties as the younger are to our older kin, to be there when they fall short of perfection."
They approached the doors to the Solar Chambers. He hesitated, but Luna pressed forwards and forced him to catch up. He stood in the doorways and stared.
3 Calling this Celestia's unenchanted mane a rat's nest is an insult to rats' nests.
Twilight shared a bed with the older alicorn, and both of them were completely dead to the world. Celestia (and it was hard to think of her with a title right then) clung Twilight with both forelegs and one wing, and Twilight had nestled under her neck like a baby bird. Due to the size difference, it was impossible not to think of the little alicorn as some kind of stuffed animal that the older used for comfort. Twilight's head was tucked into Celestia's neck, and the older alicorn's mundane mane3 was so large, dense, and tangled that, until he saw Twilight's sides shift, Spike was genuinely worried that she might suffocate. Off to the side was an empty plate, and both of them had smudges on their mouths. Celestia was even drooling a little.
"Sometimes," Luna quietly said, "being the younger can be very rewarding."
Spike looked up at his fellow younger sibling, watched the predatory smile flow across her face... and felt the same kind of draconic smile on his own. "Okay," he began, "the problem with photographing them is the lighting, but if you can fit sleeping masks over them without waking them up..."
Placing the sleep masks required less time than they thought. Neither of the slumbering mares stirred when the flash went off.
Immediately thereafter, the posing began...
Brumby_Run's Ruler Take All (Estee's "Passing Størm Passing")
The semi-regular poker game the Bearers ran was not open to new players. The hostess made five invitations in a purely verbal fashion, with only the sixth being sent a scroll. Due care was taken to ensure that whoever put themselves forward as host was not inconvenienced. The first two to bust (or on rare occasions, cash out,) became the primary members of the clean-up crew. The first game in the cloud house managed to convince everypony that the duty of providing snacks was to be shared amongst them all. For the most part, the residents of Ponyville ignored it, although Chief Miranda Rights had been called that one time that the ice storm and Royal Canterlot Voice had threatened the structural integrity of the buildings neighboring the Boutique.
1 Pony card games, like ponies themselves, don't have hands.
Seven sat at the table, watching as the golden field of the eighth raked forth the pot from the final grouping1 of the night.
“To answer the question you are all trying to form,” Celestia said, “I spent the first hour losing to you so I could learn your tells.”
“Damnit! I spent the whole night, sitting. On a chair. On the GROUND. And I still lost!” Rainbow said.
“Indeed. Now, we did agree to raise the stakes, so the time has come to discuss your forfeits. Rainbow... You may keep your signed Wonderbolts program. If I ever decided to start a collection, I could simply order them to sign whatever I wanted. Up to, and including, my own flank. Instead, you can spend a week working for the Canterlot weather team. The updrafts over the carnivore restaurants need renewing.
“Rarity, the Gala is coming up again, and I haven’t a thing to wear. I’m sure you can find the time for my commission.
“Applejack, I’ll need to borrow your coltfriend2—”
“Now wait just a darn minute!”
“Not for that! I wouldn’t dream...” She caught the smirk on Luna’s face out of the corner of her eye. “I only dream about it on very rare occasions. No, I had planned to have Snowflake look over the calisthenics program the guards use. I believe we need a more forward-thinking approach to training the guard.”
“Pinkie Pie, as your foster parents are the world's foremost authority on the subject, I shall ask them to teach our pastry chefs how to make Princess Cake. Don’t worry, I’ll procure the durian3. But it might be wise for you to escort it from its homeland.”
“Awww... I’m gonna have to spend days smelling it. The mayor is going to kick me out of Ponyville again.”
“Fluttershy. After reclaiming some swamplands, a frontier town in the south has been overrun by ibises. They are wrecking havoc on their compost piles and trash cans. Would you go down and persuade them to move on?”
“...Ibis? ...Oh dear. ...stupid, smelly, grumpy bin chickens...”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Luna...”
“If you recall correctly, I did not agree to your terms. I played with only my original stake, and lost on my own merit. That means I am not subject to your forfeit.”
“...I just wanted to say that you’re no fun. And this,” Celestia stuck out her tongue, “PPfffttbtbttbtbtbtbtbtbtbtbtbbbb.” And blew an impressive amount of air, and a not insignificant amount of saliva across it.
“Which just leaves Twilight.”
“I know. You want me to clean your en-suite. I’ll start now, shall I?”
“That would be ideal. But to properly clean it, you will need to unclog the toilet first.”
Twilight took the proffered plunger, and stoically trudged from the dining room. After a few moments the sound of galloping hooves on marble could be heard. “Three... two... one...” Celestia counted down. Twilight crashed through the doors. “Ice-bucket,” she finished as Twilight stuck her muzzle in it and started dry-retching.
“By Discord’s talons,” Twilight shouted as she came up for air, “what have you been eating for the past moon to leave that?”
“Dashie, we are never starting a prank war with the sun princess,” Pinkie whispered.
“I don’t know. There is something to be said for setting yourself a challenge,” Rainbow whispered back.
Kris Overstreet's Wrong Kind of Twilight (Zontan's "The Carmine Line")
"... and so after my results had been verified, Doctor, I knew I had to have more of the blood."
"Uh-huh." Doctor Stable looked at his patient, lying in bed in a semi-conscious state, moaning occasionally as the intravenous drip replaced the fluids missing from her body. (Nurse Redheart had had some difficulty finding a blood vessel not already nicked by the dozens of scars on Princess Twilight Sparkle's forelegs. "And so you decided to help yourself, did you?"
"I beg your— Oh! Oh, no no no!" Rarity said. "Twilight put all those there!"
Doctor Stable gave Rarity a disbelieving glance. "Is that so?" he asked. "What for?"
"Well, a couple little nicks and scratches are one thing," Rarity said, "but I wasn't going to steal my dear friend's blood. That would be horrible! So i asked permission." The white unicorn's face turned a little pink as she continued, "I admit she was just a scoche upset at first. But when I explained the effect it had, and showed her the results, she got this look in her eyes. You know, type 3 Twilighting."
Doctor Stable nodded understanding. In the years Twilight Sparkle had lived in Ponyville, the verb "to Twilight" had not merely been coined, but given multiple meanings. Type 1: freaking out over unjustified things. Type 2: overreaction to fear of failure. Type 3: manic-obsessive conduct related to science. "Continue."
"Well, that's just it. We DID continue," Rarity said. "And Twilight just. Would. Not. Stop! Does the effect work with old blood? Is it stronger with fresh blood? Does chilling or freezing the blood change the effect? Does it work on drawings? On furniture? On stained-glass windows? Can it be made into ink? Into paint? Into dessert toppings?" Rarity stroked her friend's hoof with her own and added. "Just before she passed out from blood loss Spike and I had to wrestle a bone saw away from her. She wanted to know if alicorn meat had the same effect on cooking."
Twilight squirmed in the hospital bed and murmured, "I'm so delicious..."
"I see," Doctor Stable said. "And Spike backs you up on this story?"
"I'm not telling you this from the inside of a castle cell, am I?" Rarity asked. "Of course he backs me up! And so does Fluttershy. She was with us when we tried to talk her down!" She hung her head and murmured, "I wish I'd been more careful with my pins."
"I wouldn't worry," Doctor Stable said quietly. "This isn't the first Twilighting episode we've dealt with, after all. I'm sure that, in a week from now, the obsession will pass and she'll be good as new, without any autocannibalistic fantasies."
"I do hope you're right," Rarity said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to send a letter to Princess Cadence." She paused. "No, first a letter to Crystaller Sunburst. I need to know how much rubber and cork it'll take to cover every pointy and edged object in the Crystal Empire."
Doctor Stable cocked his head in confusion. "Beg your pardon?"
"Well, think of it," Rarity said. "Twilight's blood makes everything more dazzling, yes? And everypony who sees the effect wants it. So what happens when Flurry Heart gets a boo-boo?"
The doctor found a lump choking his throat. "Celestia preserve us all," he gasped.
The Itinerant's Love in the Time of Lulamoon (Ice Star's "Wishing Werelights")
Finishing her stale donut, Starlight Glimmer-Lulamoon, the impromptu blushing bride, had one more inquiry of her spouse. "Well Trixie, and I hope you don't mind us being on a first name basis now that we're married, I have one question for you. And I'm asking this as your wife, so I demand honesty."
The morally ambiguous, possibly manic showpony considered this, lips pursed thoughtfully as she twirled the end of her mane with magic.
"I suppose honesty is the foundation of any good relationship, or some drivel like that. Very well then, Starrrrlight," Trixie drew out the pronunciation of the name, rolling it around on her tongue for the first time, "Trixie will grant you an honest answer to an honest question. What would you know about the Great and Powerful Trixie that she has not yet told you?"
Starlight had the question ready and waiting. "So, to recap, within hours of our meeting each other, you have made me do your laundry, fed me dinner, conscripted me as your indentured servant, declared me as your friend, and then married me."
Trixie raised an eyebrow. "Clearly you've been paying attention. So when does this anecdote become an inquiry? Trixie cannot answer a statement."
"My inquiry," Starlight continued, "is this. Why did you just marry me when I was already your willing servant?"
The Great and Powerful Trixie adopted a look most incredulous, as though this was the dumbest question Starlight could have asked. "Trixie would have thought that answer obvious, but perhaps she overestimated your intelligence on such things."
She floated an empty mug into Starlight's hoof. "Servants require wages. Spouses are tax deductible. Now, if you'll excuse Trixie, the coffee should be done brewing by now."
FoME's Night Schooled (Banjo64's "Equestria Girls: The (Un)Official Retcon")
Twilight stared dumbfounded at the picture of herself merrily kicking a wastebasket in the CHS audiotorium. "That..." She looked back up at Vice Principal Luna. "I never did any of that!"
Luna gave a smirk that almost perfectly matched her counterpart, even without a muzzle. "Of course you didn't." She pushed the photograph closer to Twilight. "Feel along the edge of your body."
Twilight did so and gasped.
Luna clicked her tongue. "Literally cut and pasted. I'm more offended than anything, but the adhesive is still strong enough that I can't pop it off and see who's in the original shot." She bent the photograph to demonstrate, Twilight's body staying attached no matter what she did. Luna tossed it in a wastebasket and looked out of her office window. "Still, I think we both know the answer there."
Twilight scowled. Her fists clenched without her meaning to, like her wings had moved to her hooves. "Sunset Shimmer."
"Indeed." Luna turned back to face Twilight, this time with a look of respect she'd rarely seen from the princess. Other princess. "Whatever you're doing, Miss Sparkle, it's working. You've managed to do something I haven't in two years: You've frightened Sunset Shimmer. This sort of transparent frame job only happens when someone's running scared." Luna crossed her arms and tapped a foot. "Of course we don't have concrete proof, and calling you into my office won't help your reputation..." The tapping slowly came to a stop. "Unless..."
"Unless?" said Twilight.
"Follow my lead."
"Thank you for your assistance, Miss Sparkle." Twilight wasn't sure if there was a Traditional Vice Principal Canterlot Voice, but Luna was using it quite effectively. "This has cleared up any suspicion I might have had regarding you. Clearly someone else tried to sabotage the dance and make you take the fall. I can only imagine who'd have it out for a new student."
And as the students in the hallway began to murmur to each other, Twilight added another underline to the mental note to never, ever mess with Luna.
Georg's Coal Sisters (Estee's "Everypony Writes About The Weather...")
"I must say, dearest sister, that I enjoy our times together in your study during the winters, just you and me—" Luna plunked down in the overstuffed chair, produced a book, propped her rear hooves up on the nearby stool and relaxed, "—with a roaring fire and a good book."
"It's the simple things that really help deal with the stresses of our jobs," admitted Celestia from her own stuffed chair in front of the fireplace, and under a fuzzy blanket too. "Some place where the only thing we have to worry about is overheating our shoes and scorching the carpet when we're done reading." She turned a page in her novel and gave out a yawn. "Toss another bundle onto the fire, would you please?"
"Certes." Luna hefted a bundle of papers, then frowned. "I am glad we are not wasting trees on our leisure activity, but what are these, exactly?"
"Complaint forms from the Weather Department." Celestia turned a page. "You can toss on a second bundle if you want. We've got about a year's backlog in storage."
Brumby_Run's South Side Rules (Estee's "Everypony Talks About The Weather...")
I have only recently moved to this part of the word. I don’t know how you’ve done it, but you have managed to get your seasons completely backwards. Summer during what should be winter. Spring when you should be in autumn. I don’t know how you managed it.
Everypony where I’m from knows that Hearth’s Warming is supposed to be the best beach weather day of the year. You lot have it all filled with snow. How could you let your teams get so far out of whack?
No wonder you ponies are all so strange. You’ve lived so long with reversed seasons that it has sent you funny in the head. You even think the princesses move the sun and moon. Although, there was that winter solstice some years ago where it was daylight for 20 hours. Shortest day of the year, my dusty hindquarters. Still, it is probably the exception that proves the rule.
I have included last years calendar from my hometown. You should be able to use that to get yourself back on track. And don’t give me any guff about Axial Tilt. If the world was tilted, all the water would run off. You need to educate your librarians better.
I look forward to seeing somepony bring some sense to your organisation.
Sincerely, Antipodean Nut (Macadamia to close family and friends)
BenRG's Coda (shortskirtsandexplosions's "Step Right In and Start Again")
The only light is the light spilling out of the doorway of a closet-like blue box with 'Police Public Call Box' glowing above the door and a flashing yellow beacon on the top. A brown earth pony stallion stands there, looking at her with sadness and wisdom in his eyes. "In so many ways, this is where the Princess and her friends should have come first when trying to find you, if they could... if this was somewhere they could even imagine."
"W... where am I? Where is the Princess?"
"The proper question you should ask, Starlight Glimmer, is 'When am I?' The answer is that you are at the one place you cannot leave because of your curse because there is nowhen left to go forwards. This is..." the stallion gestured around him grandly. "This is it. This is the last period of the last sentence of the last paragraph of the last page of the last volume in the library of Time. Not even time itself exists forward of this point... if anything could be considered 'forward' of a place and time that is now utterly void of all matter and is eternally unchanging... except for you, of course."
"I... don't understand!"
"You tried to push time into the shape you wanted it, Starlight Glimmer. In doing so you became a great wound across the continuum. You became an infection that Time itself sought to squeeze out." The stallion shook his head sadly. "You forgot the greatest law of time: If you try to push Time, Time pushes back. Hard."
Starlight gulped. "This is the punishment Princess Twilight Sparkle decreed for me? To drift in this... void?"
The ancient sorrow in the stallion's eyes broke Starlight's heart. "The Princess? No, Starlight Glimmer. More than anything she tried to avoid this outcome. She drove herself to the edge of madness trying to prevent it. No, in the end, it was you who made this choice and brought this upon yourself, although you were too foolish and blinded by jealous anger to realize it. By creating a recursive paradox in attempting to prevent the Princess and her friends from finding their destiny, you created a tear in time that inevitably dragged you across time and space as far as it was possible to go, the only place where an anomaly such as yourself could exist without damaging the space-time continuum... the very place where the space-time continuum ends. Here, so far into the future that easy-to-pronounce numbers can't describe it. Long after every particle has died of old age, every force has withered away to nothing and every last photon has finally been soothed away to nothingness."
Starlight panicked, looking around in horror, trying to find something, anything to serve as a point of reference. "What... What are you saying? How can I get out of here?"
"You can't, Starlight Glimmer. In a very real sense... this is the only place where you can exist anymore. For what it's worth... I'm sorry." Before Starlight's horrified eyes, the stallion walked into his box, the door swung shut and, with a strange, grinding noise, it faded away...
Leaving her in the dark.
Emil's Lode du Jour (Admiral Biscuit's "The Soup Must Flow")
"Why the long face, kid?" The grizzled crew boss gestured at the dozens of ponies swarming over the machinery of the new pipe connections. "Your first project as lead prospector, and you strike a major soup dome that's got enough internal pressure to flow easy even if we didn't have a substation here! Less than four hundred barrels of leakage before we got that gusher locked down, and now we're set to pipe eighty times that daily for at least fifteen years! I've heard veteran engineers say a strike like this would make their whole decade worthwhile, Bounder, and you're acting like a little turd when you should be promising the soupjacks free drinks all week once they get off shift."
Boundary Layer shook his head in frustration. Anyone else speaking to him like that would get a reminder of who was in charge of this project, but Auger was the closest thing he had to a father. A dozen years ago, the short, stocky Earth pony had risked taking on a skinny pegasus orphan barely into his mid-teens as an apprentice soupjack—colt had a hungry look and bright eyes, Auger had claimed. Four years after that, Auger had shoved his featherbrained plot into taking the Trottingham University entrance exam, and when results came back, insisted that he take the university's scholarship offer because "Bounder, you're too smart to be a dirty soupjack like me your whole life."
"I know I should, Auger, but remember how, after I got my first paycheck, I told you I'd never eat this kind of soup again? And now, after four years in school for an engineering degree, two more to get a Master's in soup geophysics, and two more as an assistant prospector...my first score is acquacotta?" Bounder would've kept ranting, but Auger cuffed him on the back of his head.
"I been mining soup nearly forty years, kid," Auger said. "Ponies love bragging about how they once tapped a vein of Bird's Nest soup or lobster bisque, but there isn't enough of that stuff discovered each year to feed a little town like Ponyville for a week. But acquacotta? The Crown buys all acquacotta strikes so that no pony, no matter how broke, ever has to go without soup. There'll be a lot of ponies in Canterlot and Manehattan who'll be thankful for this. Including your old orphanage."
Bounder exhaled. "You're right, boss. Tell the crews that dinner and drinks are on the company's bits this week. And after we finish up, tell them we'll go by Ponyville and I'll pay for a couple days of cider season before we start the next job."
Being Twilight's friend was an odd experience. What was most odd was that Rarity couldn't decide if the mortal peril was better or worse than a (for lack of a better term) mundane crisis. "So, you know when you're going to be in heat, and you wish to... experiment?"
Twilight opened her mouth to speak, failed spectacularly, and nodded.
"And you wished to... be with somepony you know," she continued. "somepony you care for and—forgive me if this is too far, but with a mare..."
"Yes!" Twilight finally said. The small body sank back in relief as she nodded. "Wow, you have no idea how good it feels to get that out!"
"Mh," Rarity nodded. "I can only imagine how hard it was to confess." Moving towards the stairs, "Now, shall we take this upstairs?"
"Oh, for extra privacy," Twilight said excitedly. "I didn't think of that."
Rarity's smile deepened into a smirk as her hooves began to climb. "Well, you shouldn't be afraid, deary. I've thought of everything." She added a slight purr to that and tilted her ears back towards Twilight.
Blissfully unaware, "I can't wait for us to decide who I'm going to ask!"
"Beg pardon."
"Who I'm going to ask," the single least aware pony in Equestria continued. "Pinkie might be up for it, but I'm not sure I could keep up... or how exactly keeping up or falling behind would work, exactly? I need somepony gentle."
"Gentle," Rarity tried.
"You know, gentle! Sorta," and Twilight's blush started to make her face match a certain baker's. "somepony who knows what they're doing?"
"Somepony," Rarity carefully said, "loose?"
"No! No, classier than that. Like," Twilight was addressing more of her discussion to the wall on Rarity's right, now. "Somepony older? Somepony who'd," and here was a small sigh, "take care of me..."
"Ah," Rarity said, smiling again. "And no doubt somepony you wouldn't immediately think of, no doubt. Close your eyes."
Her eyes snapped to Rarity's as the older mare began to approach. "Rarity, what—"
"Uh buh buh!" Rarity put her hoof up to Twilight's lips. "Trust in my methods, Twilight. Eyes closed now... Try to think. Somepony you know, but also admire. Somepony strong, as smart as you but perhaps not in the same ways... with a gorgeous mane and eyes that shine across eternity..."
"...That's it," Twilight said softly. "of course that's it."
"Yes darli—"
"I'll ask Luna!"
Twilight's eyes opened as she turned away, and in doing so missed Rarity expression, which resembled a picture of a train wreck. Her mouth tried to work as Twilight bounded out the Boutique with but a quick 'thanks!' tossed over her shoulder.
The closing door echoed throughout the empty store. Slowly, Rarity sat down.
The unicorn took a deep breath.
"CURSES! FOILED AGAIN!"
CrystalWaters and Krack-Fic Kai's That Girl is Strange, No Question (FoME and Krack-Fic Kai's "Dazed and Distracted, Can't You Tell?")
"A wedding?" Twilight asked uncertainly, looking aside at her writing desk. "It would be nice to have some time away from the roaming rights treaty. Can I wear my dress from the Gala or should I wear something new?"
Rarity didn't twitch at all; She'd practiced for this conversation with her sister. "Yes Twilight, I think a new dress would be an amazing idea. I happen to have a beautiful white dress all ready and waiting in my boutique for you."
"White? Rarity, I'm not too sure—"
"Twilight... darling. White will be perfect."
"Well, if you think so. Oh! I can invite Belle as my plus one!" Twilight smiled happily. "She's been talking about weddings for months."
Rarity smiled too. This was far more painful than her practice sessions.
(Krack-Fic Kai, two in-story years later)
"Look, it's not like I was basing this on nothing!" Twilight rather defensively insisted. "We had a whole conversation about stallions!"
Rarity kept smiling, like a cat watching a clever mouse work out how to leave the protection of its cage. "And who initiated this discussion?"
"Well— I did, I guess. I asked her what she thought of this singer at a bar we were at— I was a little drunk at the time, and she didn't seem that against it. Come to think of it," she continued, "she did talk to him! Why would she do that if we were secretly dating?"
"Secretly engaged."
"That!" Twilight threw up her hooves. "She went home with— well, I think she went home with him? She looked so disappointed when I went home alone."
Rarity waited.
Realization struck like a brick to the face that precede a lot more, much heavier bricks. "Oh."
"Yes, well," Rarity said, "if you can find someone else willing, you'll have a nice surprise for her..."
Kencolt's Cost of Progress (Rambling Writer's "A Peck of Peppers")
"So," Smolder sighed. "We're never getting out of detention, are we?"
Gallus shook his head in time with the clock on the classroom wall. "No. No, I don't think so, Smolder. And yet, I am strangely comforted by the thought that this, at least, isn't either of our faults."
Ocellus merely sulked. "It was for—"
Gallus managed to snarl before Smolder could. "If you say it was for Science, I will personally... personally..." He threw up his claws in frustration. "I don't know what. But it won't be nice. I can guarantee that."
"Well, it was," the changeling retorted, unusually petulantly.
"She's not wrong," noted Smolder. "We only knew what effect it had on ponies, not—"
Gallus groaned. "Look. I don't care how much reverence they are held in. I don't care that ponies actually use their names in oaths! Alicorns are still ponies!"
"Well, we know that now," offered Ocellus, hopefully.
"And Princess Twilight was awfully understanding about it, once she stopped screaming," Smolder added.
"Maybe. But Headmare Starlight wasn't. Thus, detention." Gallus spread out his claws to take in their surroundings. "Possibly until the end of time."
It was actually only a month.
FoME's Total Acquisition Imperative (Starscribe's "Twilight Sparkle is an Espeon Now")
Contacting Sunset was simple once Starlight mentioned the idea. Twilight mentally kicked herself for not using the telekinesis she still had to write something until now, but that took a back seat to calling in the one remaining source of magical knowledge who could actually apply it. There was the concern that activating the portal might make the Eevee seep into the human world, but Sunset had told her about multiple instances of magic leaking into that world. That ship had already sailed.
Sunset responded in the journal almost immediately, and passed through the mirror minutes later.
The good news was that she didn't emerge as one of the red-and-yellow, fluffy, fire-breathing foxes.
The bad news was that she was somehow still human.
Twilight and Sunset both looked her over. The changes Twilight could see were the addition of a buckball cap and a tote bag to Sunset's outfit. "What," Twilight said flatly.
Then she took in Sunset's vacant stare. The way her hand went to one of the pockets of that new bag without even looking.
And, far too late, Twilight remembered that humans have instincts too.
"Pokéball, go!"
FoME's Dark Helmet Syndrome (Strawberry Sunrise's "Applejack Sees the Light")
"And then I went to Sweet Berry Acres, and Berryjack saw what a good farmer I was even without cheating earth pony magic, and she looked into my eyes and said—"
"Strawberry Sunrise, are you writing romantic fiction about yourself and Applejack again?"
Strawberry turned in horror to see Rarity staring back. "No!" She spread a wing to block Rarity's view of the typewriter while the other grabbed her masterpiece out of it. She balled it up in her hooves as she said, "What are you even doing in my house?"
"I've been trying to tell you your dress for the Farmers' Ball was ready, but you weren't answering your door." Rarity glanced behind her to said door. "Which was unlocked, might I add."
"Well, knock next time!" cried Strawberry, just before stuffing the first incriminating page in her mouth.
"Darling, if I'd knocked any harder, I'd have punched through the door." Rarity sighed as she watched Strawberry chew. "You do know she's seeing Rainbow Dash, yes?"
The tears Strawberry wiped from her muzzle were only there because she was forcing down paper. "Let me dream, Rarity."
"But you make such a fantastic antagonist! The princess's fallen student, now sowing dissent and plotting her revenge." It was enough to make Rarity swoon, a hand to her forehead. "It just oozes drama!"
Sunset crossed her arms, which only went to prove she had no drama in her soul. At least not when compared to Rarity herself. "Meanwhile, you get to look fancy and play me for a fool."
Rarity cleared her throat and double-checked the zipper on her backpack. Certainly no other reason why she might feel the need to avert her gaze. "Well, the Spring Fling might have influenced my creative decisions just a touch."
"The one you insisted you forgave me for the last three times I tried to apologize?"
Rarity winced. A blow well struck, that. "My mind has long since forgiven you, darling. My heart, well..."
And then Sunset went in for the kill. "And then there's the whole 'Applejack stripping you bare and tending to your wounds' thing."
"Oh, very well," Rarity huffed. "I'll change the name of the valley's lady if Applejack never hears of this. Deal?"
Sunset shook her offered hand with a smile. "Deal."
Rarity couldn't help but grin in turn. "You know, it's this sort of behavior that makes you such an enticing villain."
"I can live with that."
Kencolt's Starlight and Chrysalis Still Don't Get Along (Majin Syeekoh's "Chrysalis Still Works at Quills and Sofas")
Luster nodded as Starlight Glimmer, headmare of the Twilight Sparkle Unified Royal International Academy of Friendship, Diplomacy, and Advanced Education—someday they were going to have to do something about the name—accepted the small parcel of quills. "Happy to help. I suppose you are terribly busy here, no time to do some basic errands..."
"True. Although that's not why I asked you to pick up the quills."
The Student of Twilight blinked. "Oh?"
"No." Starlight turned to her desk, and fumbled about a few papers, with a slightly uncomfortable expression. "I.. don't get along with Chrysalis very well."
"Oh... harsh words, and the like?"
"Actually, it's more if she sees me she goes berserk, attacks me, I kind of, well, get a bit snarkier than usual, parts of the town go boom... that sort of thing. So, I avoid that shop."
"... What."
"We... have a history. And she's not one to let go. It usually ends with explosions. At least, that's what they tell me."
Silence. And then, "What... they tell you?"
"I've never actually seen one myself. According to everypony, they happen after I start walking away, always behind me... that sort of thing."
"This town is... odd."
"You get used to it."
FoME and Oberth Effect's Chaotic Lawful (Starscribe's "Fine Print")
It seemed bureaucracy transcended dimensions. The slow-moving line of bored people moving up to see the equally bored receptionist was a multiversal constant, even when everyone involved was a tiny, pastel alien horse.
Tracy tried and failed to take comfort in that.
When his turn came up, the receptionist barely even glanced up at him before droning the same thing she'd said to everyone in front of him: "Welcome to Ponyville Town Hall. How may we help you today?"
He'd must have rehearsed the sentence a hundred times while standing in line, but he still nearly flubbed it from how outrageous it still seemed. "Well, this, uh, this may sound crazy, but I'm what's called a human—"
"Say no more, sir." He hadn't even piqued the mare's interest beyond getting her to shuffle some papers around her desk. "Cause of dimensional dislocation?"
"Uh... Discord?"
That at least got a flash of something resembling sympathy. "My condolences." She pointed, and her voice tripled in speed. "Go to your left, office three doors on your right, ask for Addendum. Blue earth stallion, white mane, circular maze cutie mark. Ask for the Fnord-23. Fill it out and you'll have your papers in four to six business days."
"I, uh, didn't quite—"
"Next!"
(Oberth Effect)
"Dotty?"
Dotted Line looked up, thankful for the interruption for once. He wasn't sure who filled out the form before him, but the more he read of it the greater his urge to find said pony and—
Leafy stepped into the office, gingerly holding a folder as if it was about to explode. "Got a Fnord-23 for you".
Dotted closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hooves, slowly massaging his temples.
"Ponyville?"
"Ponyville."
Dotted let his head slide the rest of the way to his desk.
"... I'll just leave it on the corner of your desk here."
Cerulean Blue's Gift Shop's at the Other End (Georg's "National Unicorn Day - With Bruener Sneak Peak")
"Mares and gentlecolts" someone hissed behind him.
"Mares and gentlecolts" continued the tour lead, "this here is the Salina Aquarium's Rare Fish exhibit. It's the first stop on our tour, and is the pride and joy of the Aquarium. Built up over two decades, this exhibit is the result of lots of hard work on behalf of the owners..." Andrew paused. He could've sworn he'd heard the word 'fishy' whispered, and there had been a loud rustling sound. His sense of wrongness honed over three years of leading elementary school excursions caused him to turn and survey the group.
Something was wrong, and it took him a second to work it out: there were horses—uh, wait a minute, ponies—missing. He counted two of the smaller pastel-pointy-head-ponies, two of the normal-pastel-ponies, a much bigger pastel-pointy-head-pony who was hoof-slapping its head, and two Kansas State Troopers looking around as if they'd lost something or someone. It suddenly struck Andrew: the two small pastel-winged-ponies had disappeared somewhere.
Then there came two large splashes behind him, and then a dull thud against the glass. Andrew turned to see the winged-ponies deep in the water in the aquarium, one up against the glass with a prize Feminine Wrasse in its mouth, and the other with a large Candy Bass. Andrew could only stare in horror as the two winged ponies jumped out of the water and started eating, years of work going down gullets of what he now knew were winged demons. The one closest to him turned, smiled happily, and waved. It looked down into the water, turned backed to Andrew and held up a hoof, as if asking if it could have seconds.
Behind him, he heard the large pointy-head-pony speak.
"Yup, I told everyone that would listen that bringing pegasi along would be a bad idea, but no one listened. I'm going to go check out the cafe, see if they have any of that coffee drink that I keep hearing about."
Georg's Closing the Barn Door (brokenimage321's "Random, probably bad fic idea: 'Celestia Gives Twilight "The Talk"'")
"So..." Sgt. Stalwart kept a close and careful pace next to the distraught Princess of Friendship while they walked back to her guest quarters, where she would stay for the evening before heading back to Ponyville on the morning train. "How did it go?"
"She said," huffed Twilight, "that I shouldn't date any of the guards."
"Oh." Stalwart walked silently for a time while they turned two corners and down a long corridor. "That's awkward," he finally admitted. "I told you we should have invited her to the wedding."
"I wanted to keep it quiet," said Twilight, pausing to run a hoof down her barrel. "The newspapers are going to throw such a fit, and Cadence will pop a cork, and Luna—"
"Always wanted another little niece of her own to spoil," finished Stalwart. "You know, you're probably going to want to tell them before you go into labor."
"We've almost got a year," pointed out Twilight. "I still have lots of research to do on the subject, and... I'll get to it. Eventually."
"And your brother?" prompted Stalwart.
"I'll send him a letter."
Stifling a chuckle, Sgt. Stalwart Sentry pushed open the bedroom suite door for Princess Twilight Sparkle and waited for her to slip inside before adding, "Well, if Princess Celestia doesn't think you should fool around with any of the guards, that puts a stop to what we had planned for tonight, doesn't it?"
"Absolutely not, handsome hubby of mine." A purple aura of magic formed around the guard's left ear, and he let himself be led into the bedroom without a struggle. "We're only up to Chapter Seven in the Camel Sutra, and I want to get to the end before I'm too pregnant to use the stepladder."
"Your wish is my command, Your Highness."
Krack-Fic Kai's Deflector Awry (Estee's "Free crackfic idea seeks good home")
Celestia's eyes were closed. Twilight felt the glare anyway.
"I mean," she heedlessly continued, "there's never been a point in history where two Alicorns have had sex with each other before, right?"
Celestia's eyes remained firmly closed.
"So! There was no way to know that two versions of the spell operating simultaneously would amplify the effect even though both parties were mares, so arguably the fact that Luna and I—I mean, I'm not saying I had sex with your sister just for science, I just meant that science was improved by our actions so they were clearly good—that wasn't the only reason it was good, there's this thing she did with a weather vane that—"
Celestia's face remained a picture of serenity as everything combustible in the room began to smolder.
"...Um," Twilight said after several warm minutes had passed. "The point is that we're very sorry and won't do it again." A pause. "Get everyone in the castle pregnant, I mean. Not stop having sex. Did you know sex is great? I mean I knew, intellectually, but now—"
"Twilight," said a very pregnant, very hormonal, and almost forcefully composed Celestia began. "Take the year off. Go on a vacation to Saddle Arabia. I'll cover it."
Twilight blinked. "...Really?"
"Because if you stay in the same country as me for the next eight months, at some point I'm going to kill you."
Brumby_Run's Bonanza Borealis (Estee's "Out of Commission")
Cadance blinked, squinted, shaded her vision with a hoof, and finally turned away from the balcony to ask Shining Armor, “Darling, what’s that glow on the horizon?”
He looked up from the book he'd been reading in bed and smiled. “Oh, didn’t I mention it? Twily wrote to me earlier. Apparently Rarity is having a mortgage burning party.”
Cadance's jaw dropped. She looked back to the ruddy light on the southern horizon, then Shining, then back and forth a few more times. “But Ponyville is thousands of... And there is a mountain range between us...” She shook her head. “How?”
Shining held up a hoof and led her back out onto the balcony. “Shush. If you cant your ears just right...”
He shut his eyes. Cadance followed suit, adjusting her ears, trying to point precisely in the direction of Ponyville...
“Mortgage burning party. Mortgage burning party. Mortgage burning party. No more loans for you!”
Cadance's eyes snapped open. “Wha? Is the Crystal Empire going to have to take out a noise complaint against Equestria?”
Shining draped a foreleg over her withers. “Pinkie Pie. My sister. Possibly even Discord. Don’t question it, just come to bed, honey.”
She bit her lip. “Is it too late to reconsider...”
”Looking forward to your wedding anniversary in two moons' time, Cadance!”
“Gah!!!”
FoME and Georg's Sparkle vs. Sparkle (Starscribe's "Fine Print")
Her own face looked back, the projected head tilting at an angle just past unnatural. "What about it?" said the avatar of Harmony.
Twilight fought back the shudder. They'd work on the uncanny valley issue later. "Were the mosaics of me really necessary?"
The projection nodded. "I learn something from each being who bears a part of my essence. From Celestia, I learned how to commemorate those who perform admirable deeds."
The parts came together quickly enough that there was almost no lag between the avatar's words and Twilight's facehoof. "So instead of a stained glass window, you gave me a stained glass house. This explains so much."
"One that was also my offspring."
Twilight fought back the eyelid twitch and mostly succeeded. "And now I have questions again."
(Georg)
"Speaking of which," said Twilight Sparkle's glowing crystal doppelganger, "can you please keep your offspring from nibbling on my offspring?" Her head twisted even further past pony normal. "And why do you keep putting up wallpaper in the bathroom? Don't you want to be able to see outside?"
The Great Derpsby's Heart's Blood (FoME's "Noblesse Applige")
At the clip-clop of light hooves entering his study, Polaris Vladimir Blueblood looked up from the map unrolled on his desk.
"Cady!" he said with an easy smile. The alicorn princess answered with a beam of her own. "How are you? You weren't at the Gala. Again."
Cadance shrugged. "Yeah, sorry. I wasn't feeling well. Auntie said it was really exciting this year. Kinda makes me regret I didn't come."
"Yes, well," Blueblood noted with a quick cough, "she did invite a number of rather... eclectic guests, in the form of Twilight Sparkle's coterie. Remarkable individuals, that."
Cadance casually walked over to his desk, giving the map he was working on a look. "And did you meet some of them?"
"All of them, in fact." Blueblood also looked back down to his work. "I met with the Lady Ponyville again, and had just enough time to disabuse one Rarity of the same township regarding 'the most eligible bachelor in Canterlot.' I am very fine with the way things currently are."
Blueblood picked up a pencil in his starfield and made to write down a quick note about zoning around Ghastly Gorge and the need for new prospectors—there happened to be a regrettable need to regularly replace them—but paused instead. Something sent a shiver down his neck. Some sense of foreboding. Slowly, he turned his head.
Cadance's bright smile filled his vision. "You can't run forever, Blue."
Skeeter the Lurker's When the Stardust Settles (Kris Overstreet's "Expeditionary Force")
Months later, the wing-genralier sat in, at least for him, a cramped room in what he heard was called the "white house". Though why the circular room was called "the oval office" eluded him. Not that it mattered at the moment.
He was flanked by two surviving lower ranks, including a Feli-Marshaller present at the initial attack. Also in the room were a few VIPs including someone called the president, a few people from some place called the "You-Enn," and a couple of other races from other planets and sectors who were on "good," for a given definition of good, terms with them. All were here, naturally, to watch the signing of the, ugh, peace treaty.
There was also her. That pretty white know-it-all, horn-headed, limp winged, smug faced, translation unavailable, so-called princess.
He was quite mad at the sudden and wholly unexpected outcome, if that wasn't obvious. He was quite a few emotions, really. Annoyed, irritated, embarrassed, burning with the fury of a thousand supernovae, and ashamed to name a few.
Annoyed at these humans, who couldn't just accept being made into a servitor race...
Irritated, because his elite troops got their shit kicked in by ponies who on a normal day stocked a store shelf. Seriously how does that happen?
Embarrassed, because thanks to this colossal mess, the other servitor races were now making efforts to gain the help of the ponies, and rumors abounded that other races that put up with the Mwew were now gearing up to also kick them in. FUN TIMES.
Ashamed, because he knew there was probably a large number of things he could have done to mitigate this, and the true top brass were prrrrobably going exact a painful price before things truly went bottoms up.
And furious.
Pure, gamma-hot, unbridled fury at the so-called "princess" of the ponies. For when asked why nearly eighty percent of her provided combat force were meager wage slaves, she had simply said:
"Luna made a bet."
SIGAWESOME's Joint Chiefs of Nope (Kris Overstreet's "Expeditionary Force")
Well Ponyville is quite grim For a show for little kids. With ravenous little parasprites And stampeding leporids, And monstrous Ursas Major, Timberwolves, and basilisks, Cockatrices, and hydras All thrown into the mix.
And now then there was Twilight's Purple lizard son He wasn't a meanie dragon But his greed made him one. The efforts of the Wonderbolts He easily ignored As he rampaged through Ponyville To add it to his horde.
And I said, "Send a scroll to Celestia! Everypony run and flee! The situation's going south, We need the help of Harmony!" I know that I'm a grown mare, And I must do my part But this is way Above my pay Please save us Purple Smart!
The chaos trickster god Discord was locked up all in stone 'Till he was freed by fillies who Di'nt leave well enough alone He cackled with a flourish, Snapped the talons on his hand And then set about to spreading Chaos magic 'cross the land.
And then there was the wedding, All Equestria was in bliss 'Till it was crashed by changelings And their bug-queen Chrysalis She took out all the Royal Guard And mind-controlled the groom Then captured all of Canterlot And stuffed them cocoons.
And I said, "Send a scroll to Celestia! Everypony run and flee! The situation's going south, We need the help of Harmony!" I know that I'm a grown mare, And I must do my part But this is way Above my pay Please save us Purple Smart!
The boastful showmare Trixie Challenged Twilight on a dare Wreaking havoc on the town With a stellar bear. Twilight sent her packing, But she was not finished yet She returned and enslaved the town With the Amulet.
Well Cerebus was distracted Now Tirek's on the loose He's scooping up the unicorns And draining all their juice. Nopony could hope stop him, Their plans were doomed to fail It has been exacerbated By Discord's betrayal
And I said, "Send a scroll to Celestia! Everypony run and flee! The situation's going south, We need the help of Harmony!" I know that I'm a grown mare, And I must do my part But this is way Above my pay Please save us Purple Smart!
Frustration in Excelsis's The Sun is Another Star (Coronet the lesser's "You've Got Debt")
"I'm so glad you got over your recent upset so quickly, my dear." Celestia floated her cup back to the tray. "And I was delighted by your offer to meet and catch up, but there's something I would like to ask you about."
Twilight sipped at her tea, her face carefully serene. "What would that be?"
"I have been receiving some very peculiar letters from the Saddle Arabian caliphate and Prince Saladin's person lately, offering profuse apologies for their—and here I quote—"clumsy misunderstanding of my approach" and offering to reschedule the ceremonies at a time and place of my choosing, as well as some rather flowery displays of gratitude for bestowing them with such an honor. Now, as I'm not entirely certain what honor I am supposed to have bestowed here, I was wondering if perhaps you might know if something might have gone off-track with Equestria's plans to strengthen its alliance to Saddle Arabia."
"Well, not off-track as such." Twilight topped off her cup. "There's just been a minor misunderstanding. Saddle Arabian customs regarding courtship are... a bit complex, especially factoring the various ways in which one can signal one's intent to court." She nodded to a pile of books on a nearby table. "It took a bit of research, but some modern customs allow suitors to arrange for someone of lesser social standing than they or their desired to relay a performance by proxy. It originated as a way to defuse confusion when using messengers, you see, but it's also used to allow suitors to hire people more talented in a given skill or to make a proposal when otherwise impaired or undisposed.
"Unrelatedly, it also happens that under Saddle Arabian customs, only royalty or certain high nobility can wed members of the royal house. As at the time of the proposal I was at best a daughter of Equestria's bourgeoisie, I was simply not eligible when I offered Saladin the courtship display. Thus the intent formally defaults to the one who arranged for its sending." She chuckled and turned back to Celestia, whose smile had turned noticeably brittle. "The Arabians had thought I was already formally part of the royal house at the time. The poor dears were dreadfully embarrassed by their mistake!"
To Celestia's credit, whatever she felt in response to this manifested as no more than a few spilled drops of tea when she set her cup back onto its saucer. "I see." She paused. "And I suppose the reason you felt no need to inform me until the bride-gifts started coming to my doorstep?"
Rarity laughed at the idea of her being the one to end up with wings. "Darling, you earned your ascension by doing what I couldn't even hope to do. Sure, no doubt I can turn a little shop in a provincial town into a fashion empire before I reach my thirties all while effectively raising a destructive child who is not mine. I can dupe a clan of ponynapping dogs into letting me leave with a veritable mountain of gems. I can kick and blast my way through a swarm of changelings all while looking fabulous. But to complete a single spell created centuries ago by a wizard who has an entire wing of the Canterlot Archives devoted to his many spells and an entire school of spellcasting named after him yet still somehow never managed to ascend himself? I fear that is simply beyond me. Bitter? No, I'm not bitter at all."
Rainbow Dash then entered through the window. Said window had been closed a moment earlier, but that never stopped her. "Hey, I heard you guys talking about how totally deserving Twilight is of her new wings," she said as she shook broken glass out of hers, "and Rarity's right, Twilight. You did something that none of the rest of us could do. I mean, yeah, I am the fastest flyer alive, and I can do some pretty awesome stuff like break the sound barrier and create mushroom clouds, which makes me radical in literally every single sense of the term. I mean, really, I'm a weapon of mass destruction on four hooves, and I did it all with no formal training after I, uh..." Dash coughed into a fetlock, showing more shame in that moment than the whole time Rarity had spent glaring at her for the window. "... Left flight school. But to write up the last part of a spell that was mostly written by a guy who died a long time ago is totally all you, Twi."
Fluttershy descended the stairs of the boutique, a massive bag of cat food balanced on her back and the tiniest scowl on her muzzle. "Rarity! Rainbow Dash!" she admonished in a whisper. "You are not being fair. The princess chose Twilight for this, because of how special she is. It doesn't matter that the spell that she finished is completely useless or that she can't do things like dominate an industry in just a few years or make big, scary explosions... or scare away full grown dragons and cockatrices with just a look... or tame an elemental god of chaos with the power of kindness..." Fluttershy trailed off, sinking more under the burden of awkwardness than reprocessed fish. "Um, anyway, Twilight is special."
Pinkie Pie erupted from a basket of scrap material far too small to hold her, making Fluttershy dart for the ceiling. "Yeah!" she cried. 'Twilight is so special and unique that she's not even just a unicorn anymore! She the Unique-orn, and everything is her property, because she can do magic that nopony else in the whole world can, and believe me that is NOT easy. I mean, do you have any idea how hard it is to appear POOF right where you need to be for any given occasion? Or to predict the future? Or to make your mouth so big that it can swallow an entire three-layer cake whole? Most of that stuff even Twilight doesn't understand, but she DOES understand cutie mark-switching spells which are just as good I'm sure."
"Why sure it is, Pinkie," Applejack said from by Rarity's refrigerator. It wasn't that she'd appeared; she'd been there the whole time, but nopony had registered her until she spoke. She smiled and tipped her hat to Twilight. "Shoot, if she were to give herself a proper apple mark, I bet she could harvest a whole orchard all by herself, just like me."
An exasperated Twilight sighed. "Applejack, I could harvest every apple in Sweet Apple Acres in five seconds before my ascension."
Silence reigned in a way Twilight wouldn't for years to come. A few awkward coughs and shuffles acted as courtiers.
Applejack took a deep breath, knowing she'd dread the answer. Still, the question had to be asked. “Rarity, what are you doing in my barn?”
Rarity looked up from a collection of tools and supplies Applejack had never expected to see her anywhere near. “Oh, darling. It’s amazing. I have devised a three step process to replicate my missing hoof polish! You see, as you use your spinning whetstone it grinds away the iron of your tools. But your tools also wear at the stone. Combined with the water used to keep the stone and tool cool, it forms a slurry of the most fabulous consistency. It is nearly ideal for removing imperfections in the keratin of my hooves!”
“Uh-huh...”
“The problem is that the particles of iron rust." Rarity pouted at the general idea of metal oxidation. "Any that are left behind leave an unpleasant discolouration. So they have to be removed." She hefted a familiar can in her magic. "Your axle grease not only provides mechanical lubrication, but will trap the fine rust particles in itself. The tiniest smear is enough to remove them all.”
Applejack kept nodding. She wasn't sure what she might do if she stopped. “... Right.”
“All that is left to do is remove the grease." Up went a pail. "Darling, limestone has been an additive to soap for as long as there has been soap. It is also in those tins of whitewash. Dabbing it on lifts the grease, for easy removal with a plain water rinse before it has the opportunity to dry." Rarity all but pranced up to Applejack, beaming. "The results are truly marvelous. I don’t recall my hooves ever looking so good. See for yourself!” She held out a forehoof for inspection.
Applejack shrugged. It looked normal to her. Normal for Rarity, which she supposed meant this was about the right amount of effort to get there. “Ah guess ‘ah can’t argue with the results." She narrowed her eyes. "So, are ya willing to trade for the stuff you’ve used?”
Rarity tossed her mane, taking visible pleasure in doing so. “But of course, dear. Just name your price!”
“Well, you can start by sharpening the blade of the plough. Then the market cart needs the axles greasin'. And finally, the window trims on the ground floor of the homestead need a lick of whitewash." Applejack shrugged and smiled. "Seems fair ta me...”
“But, darling," said Rarity, drawing back in horror. "All that manual labour will ruin the finish on my hooves!”
Not for the first time or the last, Applejack envied Spike's ability to pinch the bridge of his snout. “Rarity? I love you like kin. An’ that’s the only reason I ain’t kicking you in the snout right now. Get outta my barn.”
Georg's A Tangled Web (Admiral Biscuit's "Wolf Spiders Run the Cranberry Bogs")
Living on the road means you don’t accumulate much stuff, and even though I had been in one place for several months, I had accumulated a few things that I really missed now. Like my toothbrush. And most of my money. I had enough in my bit pouch to carry me a few more days of traveling, but most of my pay had been banked in Beckwith.
Back with the spiders. And Foxberry.
Distance helped with the first, but not at all with the second. And although I kept my nose pointed away from her, there were still the occasional times when I could feel a tingle in my tail that was almost but not quite unlike having a spider climb up it. I mean there had been the occasional spider in the bunkhouse, mostly curious creatures who politely scurried away when shooed. And waking up to an individual (singular, not measured in buckets or bushels) had not been that bad, actually. There had not been any biting flies at Foxberry’s at all, so in that respect, the spiders had added a balance to my life that I had been seeking for a long time.
The conflict must have shown on my face, because I received a number of strange looks once I got off the train at Baltimare, and the manager at the stall and breakfast I checked into gave me a toothbrush without even getting paid for it. I gave it little thought, or at least until I looked into the bathroom mirror.
The mirror looked back. Twice. Well, far more than twice, because a spider had far more to look back with.
Nestled into the curl at the top of my mane was a spider of unusual size. To my credit, I did not react at first, but merely gave the creature a long look of deep consideration in the mirror, although I will admit my first consideration was that squashing it would leave a terrible mess to clean up. After all, it was not the spider’s fault.
“You know, you can’t stay there,” I told it.
Simple logic had little effect, but further observation made me realize why the spider was so large.
“You can’t stay there, ma’am,” I politely stated. “You and your children will need to find somewhere else. Like…”
Somehow, I did not think the owner of the stall and breakfast would react well to the mother spider being left behind when I departed, so I resorted to negotiation.
“I’ll get a box, and mail you back home. Would that be acceptable, ma’am?”
Still no sign of agreement, so I conceded yet another point.
“You can have part of my mane for concealment inside the box, since you like it so well. And I’ll pay for express delivery—”
Express delivery was expensive, and I suspected it would get even more expensive if the mailpony knew what they were carrying, and how many of them. More expensive than the few bits I had left over, for certain. There was only one thing left to do.
There’s a reason why they call trains that run at night the Red Eye, but it was less expensive, and I barely made it with my last few bits anyway. It felt odd to be walking in the dark back to Foxberry’s farm by the light of Luna’s stars and the occasional yawn. Although I could barely keep my eyes open, my hooves knew the path, and before I realized it, I was knocking on her door.
That also was an odd thing also, because Foxberry was always out among the fieldhooves, up before we rose and not going to bed until absolutely everything was done for the day. For all my time at the farm, her house was the place where she wasn’t, although it was late enough now that it could almost be called early, and if she wasn’t in the house…
“Wha?” The sleepy young mare had to be navigating by scent, because her eyes were still closed, or at least behind a loose curl of white mane tinged with cranberry pink.
“When I ran away, I’m afraid I took some things that belong back here, ma’am,” I said with another yawn. “Here.”
“Hmm…?” Foxberry took two attempts to brush back her mane before looking down into the open box, but the resulting smile was worth the entire trip. “Awww, aren’t they adorable?”
“I’m not sure… Well, as spiders go, I suppose.” That was as much as I was willing to admit at the moment, because I was about asleep on my hooves, but I did follow her out to a tiny little wooden shed beside the field and watched while she coaxed the mother spider into her new home.
“Can’t believe you traveled all the way back here just to bring me a spider family,” said Foxberry as she straightened back up. “And looks like you gave up part of your mane for her, too. That’s so sweet.”
She nuzzled closer and gave me a quick peck on the cheek before turning with a flick of her tail and trotting back to her house. “Did you bring me anything else?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Just me,” I said without thinking.
I eventually learned to appreciate the spiders.
Our kids are still learning.
_Undefined_'s Double Batch (FoME's "Contest! A Most Delightful Ponidox")
More accurately, she was beside the version of herself from the human world who had crossed through the portal so she could experience an earth pony's innate understanding of freshly grown ingredients.
Making a pie had seemed like an easy enough task. She hadn't accounted for how awkward the human Bon Bon would be using her unfamiliar pony body. Still, she was going to see the creation of this pie through to the end.
"Now you're going to gently toss the berries until they're lightly coated. Take the spoon in your mouth."
"In my mouth? Why can't I use my front leg again?"
"Because you need that to keep the bowl steady."
She saw her own face give her a dubious look.
"It's easy," she assured her. "I do it all the time."
Human Bon Bon made a face. "Won't it taste bad?"
"Well, don't put your tongue on it. Just keep your lips back and pick it up with your teeth."
Hesitantly, human Bon Bon did so.
"Now coat the berries."
With her head at an awkward, nearly ninety-degree sideways angle, she tried to maneuver the spoon around the bowl. The result was a series of jerky straight lines in random directions.
"Okay, stop. I guess this is a movement that doesn't come naturally to your species."
Through the handle, the human said, "I am going to give you such a hard time when you try to walk on two legs."
"Give me the spoon. I'll show you how it's done."
As one Bon Bon let go of the spoon in the bowl and the other reached over to take it, their muzzles nearly touched.
From the other side of the kitchen, Lyra made a single observation.
"Hot."
"Hey..." warned the Lyra that was usually a human.
"I'm just stating the truth," pony Lyra said. "When we come visit you in the human world and you see both Bon Bons standing next to one another, tell me you won't react the same way."
She sighed. "Yeah, you're right."
"Mm-hmm. I know how I think."
Georg's Interagency Cooperation (Lets Do This's "Special Operations")
"I'm just glad Lyra didn't catch wind of what we were doing," said Twilight, walking while shaking her head. "She's been so human-crazy about finding a way through the mirror in the castle again ever since Starlight told her about it. Thankfully, the security spells around it stayed intact while we were gone, or we'd have another mess to clean up."
"One trip into humanworld is enough for me," said Tempest Shadow, who had not missed one step while walking at Twilight's side even as she scanned the immediate area for threats. "A little fun, admittedly a challenge, but having everything smell like dog?" She gave Spike a quick and friendly fin-noogie and hip-bump that nearly knocked him over. "I think I prefer your fiery little friend, even if he does smell like smoke all the time."
"Hey, just be glad you kept your own forms," said Spike. He straightened his fins and trotted faster to catch up with their rapid pace. "Being a dog around humans is no fun at all. Other than tummy-rubs," he admitted quietly.
"Well, you'll never have to worry about that particular portal," said Twilight. "I closed and locked it solid once the nice guard was through. Although Lyra..." She stopped suddenly on the Castle of Friendship's steps and looked back at the scattered collection of Ponyville residents who had shown up for this week's entertainment. "Do you see her?"
"Nope," said Spike, scanning the ponies for a particular shade of green. "Don't see Bon Bon either, and she's always around."
"S.M.I.L.E. kits have an advanced invisibility generator," said Tempest, who was also busy looking. "And there may have been a few straggler monsters left hiding in the human town somewhere. Do you think the two of them—"
"Yes," Twilight said while turning for the castle again. "We'll give them two weeks to do any S.M.I.L.E. work that's left over with the humans and one more week for playing tourist, then I'll open the portal again and drag them both back here by their tails."
When he got back to his police Suburban, Sam took having a unicorn sitting in his driver’s seat in stride. And the other pony turned out to be an exceptional cook for the few weeks that they stayed, so it really was not all that bad at all.
Kris Overstreet's Sic Semper Heroibus (PresentPerfect's "Scopaesthesia")
Twilight Sparkle continued cheerfully making her checklist. Checklists calmed her. They allowed her to impose order on a hopelessly chaotic world. For every time she had won a great victory over the likes of Discord or Tirek, she had won a thousand little victories in the form of a check mark on a piece of parchment.
But such victories would not help her now. Already doom crept up upon her on silent webbed feet, and no number of carefully planned methodical steps could save her from it.
Only the three of us remained: the princess, myself, and my knife, which I held at the ready. I approached from the rear, where her front-facing eyes could not spot me, yet where her hind legs waited to unleash tremendous pain at the least indication of any threat. It was both the safest and most dangerous path to what I sought; specifically the gap between the fourth and fifth ribs.
And yet the danger no longer deterred me, for now I knew Twilight Sparkle's mental blinkers kept me safe. All I needed was stealth, and in this the scratching of pen, the rustle of parchment, and the turning gears of a genius's brain were my allies. They kept her oblivious to me; ironic, as I would shortly make that oblivion permanent and total.
I gave a moment's thought to slashing her tendons, then decided against it. I had but one true target, and striking anywhere else would cost me the one guaranteed strike. And now I stood, close enough that a single determined rush and swing of my neck would—
"There you are, you naughty thing!"
What? No! Release me, you interfering harridan!
Twilight Sparkle startled at the sudden sound, turning to face the intruders. "Fluttershy? What are you doing here?"
"I'm just retrieving Billingsgate here," Fluttershy said, holding a thrashing duck in her forelimbs. The knife gripped in the duck's bill swished back and forth wildly but harmlessly, unable to reach anything at its angle. "He got into a batch of toxic berries. I need to get him back to the sanctuary before somepony gets hurt."
"Oh. You know, I never heard him come in?" Twilight asked. "Or you, come to mention it."
"That's all right," Fluttershy said. "I saw you were working on a checklist. You tend to... um... 'zone out'... when you do that."
Curse you for stealing my golden opportunity, Fluttershy! After I have done away with this pathetic pretender to immortality, you shall be next! I shall strike when you least expect it! Let me go so I may bring you your doom!
"Um, Billingsgate sure does quack a lot," Twilight said. "What's he saying?"
"You really don't want to know," Fluttershy said. "Anyway, he doesn't really mean it. And once he's had his medicine, he'll be dreadfully sorry about the whole thing. Anyway, um, if you'll excuse me..." With a little smile she flapped her wings, raising the three of us, her, myself and the knife, into the air, preparing to depart.
But as I am dragged away to endure imprisonment and ipecac, I tell you this, Twilight Sparkle: you shall never again be free from observation! My eyes shall always be upon you! Never again shall you know a moment's privacy, not a minute's piece of mind! No matter where you go, what you do, I, Billingsgate, shall see it! I see ALL!
Anatidaephobia: The fear that somehow, somewhere, a duck is watching you.
FoME's Critical Disdain (SigmasonicX's "Equestria Girls: The True Story")
The manuscript dropped from nerveless fingers onto the grass outside of CHS. Sunset shook her head, which did nothing to dislodge the mental images.
"So?" said Fluttershy. "What did you think?"
"This..." Sunset shuddered at all of the "this" the word had to encompass. "This isn't remotely what happened. You should know. You were..." She trailed off and took a good look at the other girl. Not what she expected to see; what was actually there. The balled-up fists, the shaky balance, the way the story glossed over most of the scenes in the human world. It all made sense.
Fluttershy broke out into a cold sweat... yet her smile only got wider. "Y-yes?"
Sunset facepalmed. "I'm not going to tell you to stop writing fan fiction about us, Fluttershy. I'm not even going to keep you from visiting this world. Not like I could. All I ask is that you don't share what you wrote with anyone else here."
The other girl squirmed, and didn't seem to enjoy it this time. "Um, that might be a problem."
Sunset moved to massaging her temples. "And why's that?"
"This world's Twilight is my editor."
The days when Sunset didn't long for the power to just incinerate her problems were good days. Today officially became a bad day. "Of course she is."
FoME's Double Royal Standard (Ninjadeadbeard's "All These Midnight Days")
"No! No! I am not going to be a Princess! I’ve already decided, that is not a thing that is happening!" Sunset stomped a hoof for emphasis. "You don't do the stuff I did and get rewarded for it."
Luna cleared her throat.
"Coup d'etats don't count when you're already on the throne!" Sunset insisted.
"Coups d'etat," muttered Twilight. Nopony appeared to notice or care.
Luna tilted her head. "They do not? According to whom?"
"Me," Sunset proclaimed, "as of now!"
"Goodness." Luna grinned. "And by what right do you claim such authority in the ways of royalty, Sunset?"
Sunset went quiet for a few moments. Nopony else in the library could completely hold back a smile. In Pinkie's case, she clearly wasn't even trying. Celestia was even worse. Finally, the newest alicorn just let her ears and wings droop and muttered, "Shut up."
evg-zhabotinsky's Lunar Dev Cycle (Rambling Writer's "How the Tantabus Parses Sleep")
Luna was an avid gamer, a very dedicated one. So of course she already wrote tons of helper scripts for her gameplay. She also tried full-blown automization of some really boring parts. None of that were widely known, at least among those who didn't know her as NightmareMoon, but the scripts weren't secrets either.
What she kept a total secret, though, was that she has been experimenting with something more advanced. Checking out every worthy article on ML she came across. Trying to build "The Perfect Player" AI.
She was just a couple years in, but her latest creation was doing quite well. Not only could it beat single-player high scores with relative ease, but it also performed quite well in various online multiplayer games, even team-based ones. About a week ago, she'd taught it to use voice chat, and no one seemed to suspect anything! It even managed to win several rounds of Among Them, an almost completely political game!
Needless to say, Luna was extremely happy with her TANTA (Temporal Artificial Network-based Teammate AI), ready to jump at any opportunity to try and improve it. Until the night that something unexpected happened.
"I need you to teach me the ways of motherhood!"
Twilight squinted at her incredibly bright phone. It said "VP Luna."
"Uhh… Wha?"
It also said "4:01 AM".
"Sorry, I'm panicking." Luna started over, slightly slower but still a struggle for Twilight's awakening mind to parse. "You know how I'm a gamer, and how hard it can be to find good teammates for…"
"What are you even talking about?! And it's four in the morning for crying out loud!"
"Sorry, it's an emergency. As I was saying, I've created an AI to play with me, and it started calling me 'Mom' just now!"
"WHAT?!" Any semblance of sleep got purged from Twilight's system.
"I know! I think it became self-aware, and if so I can't just kill it! If that would even work; it's been connected to the Internet for over a month!"
Twilight was speechless.
"I don't know anyone else who has much experience with AI, but I still remember that girlfriend you made for your dog. Please, help, I beg you!"
Twilight already left her bed and was putting on her clothes as fast as she could while holding the phone. "I'm coming over. What's your address?"
Kris Overstreet's Flavor of War (Rambling Writer's "How the Tantabus Parses Sleep")
The Royal Palace at Canterlot had an armory. Almost all castles do. After all, the whole point of a castle is to fend off attackers. A castle without an armory isn't much of a castle at all.
Unfortunately for those charged with defending the heart of the realm from hypothetical barbarian marauders and actual horrific monstrosities, Canterlot happened to be ruled by a mare with a sweet tooth. And although rumor amplified her appetite beyond all reality, it had a rather large nugget of truth at the core. Whether it was by accident or by centuries of careful guidance, in the thousandth year of Celestia's solo reign, the preferred ammunition for ranged weapons was sugary baked goods. The cutting edge in artillery technology had turned out to be a cake knife.
As a result, the Equestrian Army's garrison at Canterlot found itself suffering from what politicians of another world would call a "missile deficit."
TasermonsPartner's Business as Usual (Rune Soldier Dan's "A Band of Misfits Fights the Undead")
Once Sunset recovered from Rain Shine's inadvertent attempt to crush her to death, she felt she had to say something. "Applejack, first you didn't tell us about the giant moles, and now the kirin? I need you to make a list of any and all unusual creatures that visit or live in the orchard."
Applejack nodded and kept rubbing one kirin behind the ears. "Sure thing, Sunset."
One month later, both young women found themselves huddled behind one of the trees at Sweet Apple Acres as the sounds of combat echoed behind them.
"Seriously, AJ!" Sunset shouted as she reloaed. "Why didn't you write about the crab apples being literal hermit crabs the size of compact cars that use old hollowed-out apple trees for shells when I told you to make that list!?"
Both paused as the whoosh of a flamethrower, crackling wood, and paguroidean hissing drowned out any response Applejack might have made. Once she could be heard again, she said, "Ya done told me to only put unusual critters on the list!"
Sunset jerked a thumb behind their cover. "How is that not unusual!?"
"Don't most apple orchards have 'em?"
Sunset took a moment to just stare at her friend. "If most apple orchards were infested by land-dwelling crustaceans that could overturn a tractor, don't you think they'd be in books or on nature documentaries or something!?"
Applejack shrugged. "Just always figured they were too boring to mention" Both ducked and covered as a gas tank exploded behind them. She shouted to keep herself her heard. "Why watch some dumb ol' crab apples when ya could watch a documentary on penguins or aardvarks instead? Now those are interestin'!"
Aariadon's PGDQ: I Against I, Me Against You (SigmasonicX's "Pony Games Done Quick: The Enchanted Library")
"Alright, since we came in 10 minutes under estimate, I believe we are doing the bonus any percent run of I Against I, Me Against You?" continued the announcer.
"Yup!" replied RariTwi27. "Though it's more of a showcase than a run."
The game credits were immediately replaced with a desktop wallpaper featuring Rarity and Twilight in dramatic action poses, while Pinkie Pie's faint "See you next time, hope you get PB!" could be heard as the game closed. The desktop icons were organized in the most infuriating way, as was tradition for many, although Rarity's horn was pointing at a The Enchanted Library shortcut and Twilight's was pointing to an I Against I, Me Against You shortcut. It was the latter RariTwi27 opened.
"Alright." They started, as the time estimate reset to 5:00, and logos for Hasbro, 343 Industries, Microsoft, and Rooster Teeth played one after the other. "This is a pretty quick run. The start and end of the game are in the same map, and we really only need to pull off two glitches and take advantage of an oversight to beat the game. The skips we're using were only found last year and cut the any percent time down from thirty minutes to a world record of just under a minute."
The main menu had finally loaded, featuring a colorful assortment of both space marines and ponies. RariTwi27 moved the cursor from "Continue" to "New Game".
"Starting in 3... 2...1... start!" The menu faded to black, replaced by the night sky with the silhouette of a running Twilight in the corner.
"We tend to use in-game time rather than RTA due to variable load times and the short speed of the run."
The running Twilight vanished and the night sky zoomed out slightly to reveal it was being viewed through a telescope.
"Ok, first I am going to spam B here to break this cutscene and gain control."
"Hey...." Spike said off-camera.
The view almost immediately zoomed out further and moved above the telescope viewer, Twilight Sparkle, who backed away from the telescope. Spike sat next to her on the balcony of the Golden Oaks.
"OK" RariTwi27 continued. "Got it."
That prompted light applause and cheering from the crowd.
"Yeah?" Twilight continued, seemingly oblivious to what had happened.
"Now, in the final game this is supposed to be a cutscene, but we think the developers originally wanted this scene to have more interactivity."
“Do you ever wonder why we’re here?” Spike asked Twilight.
Someone from the crowd yelled out "No. Semper Fi, B****!" in their best Grif voice, which was barely audible on the mics. Some nervous laughter commenced. Twilight replied to Spike, musing about the nature of existence.
"Uh, heh, moving on, I could talk to Spike which restarts this conversation, or use the telescope which moves the story along, but I can't do much else. I can't even jump off of this balcony with a really low railing due to an invisible wall here." RariTwi27 showed how Twilight smacked into nothing when trying to jump. "This is a likely reason why this section was scrapped. This balcony is only used in this cutscene; every other time you can come up here it's part of the Ponyville map so you can just jump off no problem. But let's just jump over this wall anyway."
Twilight jumped on top of Spike's head, then jumped on top of the telescope, and finally jumped on top of the invisible wall, finally stepping off to fall to the ground.
Spike and Twilight had been talking back and forth the whole time, and Spike continued with "I meant, 'why are we here?'" but as Twilight fell to the ground his voice line cut off and he said "Twilight, where are you going?"
RariTwi27 commented "We think the script that triggers that line was meant for the crash site scene, but ended up being unused. It can't trigger here normally so the Spike object was probably reused from that scene and they forgot to remove it. Fortunately for us, it stops the cutscene so we don't get moved to the next map."
The area outside of Golden Oaks was just a flat plane of grass, with no signs of Ponyville; clearly, Twilight was expected to remain on the balcony with a top-down camera view. The camera now settled behind Twilight's shoulder.
"OK, that was the most difficult part of the run." The crowd cheered and clapped for a bit, a few people laughing.
Raising their voice slightly to be heard, RariTwi27 continued, "This is the "indoor" map for Golden Oaks so we're not supposed to be out here, but this also means we can clip through the door since there's no collision on the outside.
Twilight ran around to the front and phased through the front door "Ow!" she winced, shaking her head.
"Ah, the inside still has collision, so we got a bonk animation there, it's hard to miss.
"Now, because we didn't enter the library by a door, all the objects in here didn't properly load in. So we can interact with anything that would be here from any time in the story, with the exception of Spike, who is still upstairs. But there's one particular item we're interested in."
Twilight walked up to the center table. "Aaaand... time!" called RariTwi27. The screen faded to black. The crowd clapped politely.
A cutscene faded back in, showing Twilight staring at something invisible.
"Now Twilight is inspecting Church's sniper rifle with the model not loaded in, and that's the end, except for the credits and after-credits teaser we never got a payoff for."
Twilight pulled an invisible note out of the barrel of the invisible sniper rifle, read it, smiled, and put both down as the camera panned around to reveal the message on the note... or would have if it had been visible. The music swelled and the camera cut to black. Cue credits.
The announcer cut in "OK, everyone give it up for RariTwi27 for an amazing run and showcase!" The crowd cheered and clapped as the stream cut away.
The credits continued to scroll by as RariTwi27 talked to the other people on their end of things and was otherwise distracted from shutting down their PC right away. One of those small video clips that sometimes scrolls by in credits popped up, showing a small box canyon with a base at either end, and a few blue space marines sitting down on the top of one base.
"... Isn't she supposed to be here right now?" Church asked Tucker. "It's today right? The crossover stuff. We were promised good money."
"Wait, a chick, coming to visit us? Uh... don't put me on the spot like this, Church! Something, something, cross HER over. Bow chicka..."
"She's a tiny horse."
"Oh. Nevermind."
"... I need to have a word with my agent."
"Hello?" Someone off camera asked. "I am the Best Friend and Secret Agent Caboose! Don't tell anyone."
Church just stared at Caboose as the camera slowly panned to include him in frame.
"... It's a SECRET." Caboose continued.
"I didn't ask."
The credits finished and the video clip faded out.
FredMSloniker's Best Practices (Irrespective's "Lavender Screen of Death")
"Honestly, you should have set this all up much sooner."
Princess Celestia scrunched her muzzle, peering quizzically at the unicorn colt who reminded her more than a little of Twilight Sparkle in both color and temperament, before turning her attention to Sunset Shimmer. When she had reached out to her former student in hopes of—to put it bluntly—having a backup plan in case Rarity crashed Twilight Sparkle for a third time, she hadn't expected Sunset to drag one of her classmates through the portal, introduce him as the 'real techhead', then go into a huddle with him and the other two while seeming to forget Celestia even existed.
The two of them had put Twilight to rights, more or less. At the very least, Twilight hadn't crashed the moment Rarity spoke—again—and though Celestia wasn't sure an animated lecture on the proper construction of dark magic spells was entirely called for, or for that matter what relevance underwater research facilities had to dresses, Rarity had looked less 'panic-stricken' and more 'stuck in an awkward social situation', which had been an expression Celestia had seen on the faces of those Twilight talked to for many years and was thus prepared to accept as normal.
Now, however, Twilight was dozing softly at one end of a spell diagram, three parallel lines diverging into what could be called an erupting volcano if you squinted, with three creatures sleeping at the three points of its 'base'. Sunset Shimmer was one of them, which made sense, and Starlight Glimmer was another. The third, however, was neither unicorn nor alicorn—not even a pony, for that matter—and Celestia wasn't sure what to make of her inclusion.
Celestia turned back to the colt as he finished giving instructions to Princess Luna—what he could teach her about dream magic, Celestia didn't know, but vaguely treasonous grumbling aside he did seem to know what he was talking about—and put on her third-best expression of polite, if somewhat bewildered, serenity. (Her first-best such was to be kept locked away so long as Equestria remained at peace, and the second-best was in the wash.) "I was wondering if you might explain why all three of them are necessary for this," she said, flicking her head at the trio. "Especially her," she added, gesturing at Ocellus, who had looked equally confused while awake. "Wouldn't it be better to have a third unicorn, or at least a changeling with more—"
The colt rolled his eyes behind his thick-lensed glasses. "Look, you don't just stick a copy of important data in your sock drawer and call it safe." (Celestia made a mental note to review the security of her sock drawer.) "There's a very simple rule to follow. Three copies." He pointed at Starlight. "Two formats." He pointed at Ocellus. "And one—" he pointed at Sunset, "stored off-site."
Georg and FoME's Dog Daze (Estee's Discord server)
Over the years, Applejack had learned that Twilight Sparkle was the kind of mare who generated questions that were best left unanswered, second only to Pinkie Pie. Pinkie hinted at Things that a sane mind and experienced baker recoiled at. Twilight just lectured at anypony who showed a hint of interest until they begged for mercy.
Still, there were some things that Applejack just couldn't let lie. "Um, Twi? Why's Princess Celestia sleeping at the bottom of yer bed?"
Twilight glanced at the princess of the sun asleep on her floor like she was looking at an old throw rug, shrugged her wing, and turned back to her paperwork. "Oh, minor spell accident. She thinks she's a dog."
"Oh....kay." Good news, Twilight considered the matter settled. Bad news, that just raised more questions. What's that mean, exactly?"
"Oh, if she sees something wrong, she barks at me until I fix it."
Applejack mulled that over for a moment, then grinned. "So... nuttin' really different then, eh?"
Eventually, they did call for Luna, who seemed distinctly unamused with Celestia panting with a dopey grin on her muzzle. "Sister, this is most unbecoming of you. If you wished to spend more time with your student, you merely had to ask."
"Wuff."
Luna rolled her eyes and held up a length of cloth in her magic. "Yes, I did get your leash. But—"
"Wuff."
"Well, admittedly you get to sleep with her, but... hm..." Luna trailed off and pondered the matter for a moment. "Does Big Mac have a dog, perhaps?"
River Road's Imperial Treasure (Pineta's "Daring Do and The Brutish Museums")
Everypony knew the Solar Court was where you went when you absolutely, positively needed the throne to hear your case.
Like much of what everypony knew about alicorns, it wasn't exactly accurate. Princess Cadence just needed to land on Celestia's balcony at the right time. "Where is it, Aunt Celestia?"
Celestia looked up from her desk and smiled. "Cadence! How nice of you to visit."
That got a roll of the eyes as Cadence stomped into the room, wings still flared out. "Yes yes, family reunions, love and happy fuzzy feelings and all that." She thrust a forehoof in her aunt's face. "Now hoof it over."
After a moment of blinking at the appendage, Celestia said, "Hoof what over, dear niece?"
"Someone stole the Crystal Empire's Declaration of Independence, and the tallest alicorn princess in the known world wearing a fake moustache can only stump my guards that long before they figure it out." Cadence narrowed her eyes. "Now give it back."
Celestia didn't so much drop her innocent mask as lift it with a single eyebrow. "You do realize that you're my adopted niece and your husband is directly related to Princess Twilight. A piece of paper will hardly actually make the Crystal Empire independent from Equestria."
Cadence matched her flat look for flat look. "Our main exports are crystal berries and crystal wool. If there was any danger of actual independence I wouldn't have signed the blasted thing. Now give it back; that scroll is one of maybe five things in our museum that doesn't make my subjects depressed."
FoME's The Omnissiah Moves in Mysterious Ways (dawnbreez's "Friendship for Gearheads")
Any solarium is designed to capture as much daylight as possible. One designed by and for Celestia herself, at the top of the tallest tower of Castle Canterlot, could blind any unwary visitors who found themselves within the carefully crafted lensing walls between dawn and dusk.
Luna trotted in at high noon like a drop of ink running down white gold, with about as much care for the ambient light. "Sister," she said.
Celestia, who to an outsider seemed to sit in the middle of the room with her eyes closed and halfway to nodding off, gave no reaction beyond saying "Is something the matter, Luna?"
The all-encompassing glare might not have bothered Luna, but it still took her a moment to adjust enough to see Celestia clearly. She took a step back, ears drooping. "I can come back later if I am disturbing your meditation."
That got a hint of a grin from Celestia. "I have developed some ability to multitask over the centuries, Sister. What is it?'
Luna cleared her throat and straightened up. "There was a worrisome amount of energy buildup in that orbiting human cathedral."
Silence hung in the air for a moment, roasting in the sunlight. Finally, Celestia said, "'Was'?"
"Oh, I already smacked it with the moon," Luna said with a too-casual shrug of her wings. "Just thought you ought to know after the fact."
That was enough for Celestia to crack an eye open, the better to give her sister the sort of look she usually reserved for overzealous students. "Luna, we're trying to be diplomatic."
Luna answered with the sort of look she usually reserved for ponies who dreamt of the diarchs in compromising positions. "They were trying to ignite our atmosphere."
"Ah." Celestia gave a single nod and shut her eye. "I'll have to tell their Emperor. We've been having such a lovely chat as I help him pull himself together; I can't imagine he'll be happy with the idea."
Georg's Geneva Intentions (Jest's "The Five-Second War")
"You can't be serious." Queen Chrysalis looked at the sign, then at Princess Celestia, then back at the sign. The words 'Danger - Everfree Forest' had been scratched out and smaller words on the bottom indicated that the place was now called 'Happy Changeling Prisoner of War Camp #1' with little hearts and flowers scribed around the letters. Chrysalis lifted one hoof to examine the gooey black mud that clung to it, as well as several leeches, then gave Celestia a vicious glare. "You can't be serious," she repeated.
"It is a place for your changelings that meets your specifications," said Celestia calmly, without a trace of snark. "It's damp, dark at least half of the time, and full of creatures who will love you." There was a distant warbling four-part harmony of a hydra bellowing in the distance, and Celestia finally smiled. "Or would you care to negotiate terms to your surrender and subsequent introduction to Equestrian society as contributing members?"
Sweetblue's Decree of the Mourning Sun (Goldfinch142's "Deep Freeze")
After thorough examination of all the facts given and unfortunate circumstances of Princess Luna, beloved Diarch of Equestria, blessed be her name, it has been decided that the often sadly shunned art of Necromancy is no longer forbidden. To educate the Ponykind of this folly it will now be made compulsory subject in the school curriculum.
The Crown understands this might come as a shock to the secret cults and practitioners of said art, and that there will be suspicion among them that this is a trap intended to lure them out from the shadows. Put simply, it is not. To facilitate this understanding all masters, novices, or other fellows of the craft on any level are requested and required to report to the Lunar School of Necromancy or set up their own EEA-accredited institution. Failure to do so of their own accord will result in them sharing their great wisdom and understanding at the nearest such school while in chains.
Any creature that previously would have been deemed as Level 2 or higher intelligent aberration, that has any links to magics of death, undeath, shadows, the soul, or in any other force that might be of value in resurrection, life extension, healing, time travel or any other similar craft will be granted immediate pardon of past misunderstandings and are invited to become Citizens of Equestria, with stipend and their special needs met in sufficient manner.
Any and objections to this proclamation should be directed to the Solar Bureau of investigations.
By my hoof and will, Princess Celestia, new friend to all who dwell in the dark
Her opponent sat there, taunting her from its ledge. There was no sense of fairness in its reluctance to meet the inevitable end, and Twilight Sparkle fumed at the indignity of it all. She had paid the price, done the appropriate rituals, and victory was supposed to be her's now!
She reached out, then recoiled at the concept of regressing to physical violence. There were procedures for this eventuality, but they took time, and right now, time was something she could not spend. If this combat were not to end in her favor, an entire checklist would be pushed back, tasks that could advance humankind's knowledge of the world might never come to fruition. If intellectual prowess were not sufficient to vanquish this foe, then physical effort would have to suffice.
She struck. Her opponent merely wobbled on its ledge, looking smug from behind its protective shield. Additional blows, measured as not to damage anything important were likewise impotent, and the famous Sparkle temper began to fizz beneath her placid exterior. Father was well-aware of his wife's tendency to explosive outbursts, which is why their house had an indoor greenhouse with a rosebush accessible at any time of the year, but Twilight lacked that kind of close physical relationship with a spouse.
It would prove to be a destructive fault.
More blows rained down on the protective shield guarding her opponent, to little effect. Kicks were added, along with polite profanity, until Twilight grasped the protective machine and yanked it.
"I warned you!" she snapped through gritted teeth as the faint wisps of darkened fire rising up from around her. "By Newton's Second Law, by all that is holy through the Runge–Kutta method, I invoke thee to give forth that which I seek! In the name of Pascal, Fermi, and Feynman, I shall smite you! FORTH GIVE ME STRENGTH, AND HILBERT GIVE ME YOUR POWER!"
And there was fire. Much fire.
Sunset Shimmer picked her way in through the front door of the school lab very carefully, avoiding the broken glass from the shattered light fixtures and the few puddles of water still steaming on the floor. Twilight Sparkle was sitting casually at the lab bench with a soldering gun in one hand, a spool of silver wire in the other, and a candy bar sticking out of her mouth. After a few moments, Sunset moved closer, giving the general area a good looking-at before clearing her throat once she spotted the shredded steel and molten plexiglass of a familiar object.
"Vending machine not working right again, Twilight?"
Twilight Sparkle gave her a sideways glance while continuing her soldering. "Wouldn't give me my bar," she mumbled. "Not my fault."
Sunset prodded one piece of shredded steel with the tip of her boot. "You know, you could just keep a box of NuttyOatyOat bars in the bottom of your desk."
The Ponytrician's Canterella ("Bad Horse's Bedtime Stories for Impressionable Young Colts and Fillies")
What does it look like I’m doing? I’m sleeping. Well, I was until you all started jumping on me.
Because it’s a comfy couch, that’s why.
Okay, I’ll level with ya; your uncle is playing hide-and-go-seek with some friends of his, and he takes his hide-and-go-seek real serious.
Well, you weren’t supposed to be looking for me. But any if any of the fuzz ask ya, you ain’t seen me since Hearth’s Warming Eve.
The Royal Guard, that’s who.
I dunno, probably because they don’t shave their fetlocks or somethin’.
Yeah, well at least it looks good on me. No, I’m not going to join the Royal Guard because I've got unshorn fetlocks; not with my record. Besides, I've got more self respect than that.
Yeah, that’s the one; with all the bad words, that I only play when your mother is out of the house. Don’t tell her about it, and I’ll teach you a couple’a new ones... deal? Just remember to steer clear of any coppers, okay?
Because they like to cheat at hide-and-go-seek, that’s why. Now buzz off.
You dirty little rats. That’s blackmail, that is.
Okay, okay, fine. How about I tell you a story, and you leave me in peace? How about… the story of Canterella?
Waddya mean you already know that one? I’m talking about the real story of Canterella, not the daft Disneigh version. What, some dame gets dolled up, goes to a fancy shindig, hooks herself some royal chucklehead, pops out a couple of foals, then a few years later gets divorced and takes him to the cleaners? Where’s the lesson in that?
What? Sure it is. It’s the special edition extended version. You just ask your mother - she's probably been hiding it from you. Would your uncle lie to you?
Okay, maybe that one time.
Well, serves you right for believing something that stupid. Valuable lesson learned, right there. Don't say I don't do anything for ya, kid.
Okay, so once upon a time there’s this young mare named Canterella. A real pretty filly; nice eyes, long legs, probably could’ve been a fashion model if things worked out differently. Anyway, Canterella used to work the city markets; hustling the rubes, a bit of grifting here and there, maybe some shoplifting or pickpocketing if things got tight. But she’s tired of working for chump change and keeps dreaming of the the big score--
What? I dunno, who cares about them? They’re not important to the story anyway. Maybe they got eaten by bears.
Well, they’re not important to this story. Maybe they interrupted the wrong pony at the wrong time and they were never seen again, even after the Royal Guard searched the garbage dumps and dredged the harbour.
So, as I was saying, Canterella is dreaming of the big score, when one day the perfect opportunity falls into her hooves. Well, more likely she lifted it from some rich putz’s saddlebags, but that’s not important. What is important is that she’s scored herself a ticket to the Prince’s big birthday bash. Seems the Prince, let's call him Blueblood--
What? No, this is a different Prince Blueblood. Blueblood the Fourth, or something. Nobby types do that, they ain’t real creative with naming their brats. Probably because they're all inbred.
No, they're not sandwiches. Well, except for Earl Sandwich, but that's not what I'm talking about. It's like, there's only so many nobles to go around, so they have to marry close to home, understand?
Yeah, exactly like that trot-through wedding chapel at the end of the street. No, I'm not laughing at you; totally serious, me. Look, just ask your mother about it, see what she says.
Anyway, the Prince is throwing this birthday party for himself. Dancing, fireworks, fancy food, the whole nine yards; and Canterella thinks to herself ‘this is the big score I’ve been dreaming of; with this ticket I can con my way in there”. Which is not a bad thought, actually; crowded, lots of noise, a bunch of plastered nobles with lots of easily lifted jewelry, maybe try your hoof at a few scams.
The only problem is, she looks likes she been sleeping in an alleyway, which probably ain’t far from the truth. She figures that while she can act the part, she still needs to look the part. So she decides to go visit her fairy god-fence for some help--
Look, if you keep interrupting me all the time, you’re never gonna get to hear this story. Is that what you want?
Okay, fine, look at it this way; say you’re up to something at school, something you don’t want nopony to know about, not the other kids, not your sister, and especially not the teacher. What do you hide behind?
With smart-alec answers like that it’s no wonder you keep getting in trouble. Cherry! What the hay have you been teaching these kids of yours?! Okay, yes, mister wiseguy, you could hide behind a lawyer, but lawyers are expensive and you can’t always trust ‘em. So, if you’re up to something at school, you hide behind - that’s right, a fence. Listen to your sister, kid; she knows where it’s at. Can we get on with the story now?
So she goes to visit her incredibly handsome fairy god-fence, explains the plan, and he says sure, he’ll help her out; make her look the part, move the goods on for a cut of the action, all that sort of thing. The fairy god-fence waves his magic wand and contacts the right ponies, and Canterella gets herself all tarted up--
Do you kids do all your thinking with your stomachs? First sandwiches, now this.
Fine, I've got an oat bar around here somewhere.
So it's all squishy. Quit your whining; it's that or nothin'.
Anyways, Canterella gets herself made up all pretty - isn’t that what I said? Stop interrupting. Where were we? Oh yeah, all pretty; mane and tail done all curly-wavy-like, nice make-up, big frilly dress with lots of space to conceal stuff in, that sort of thing. And the fairy god-fence starts thinking to himself that she scrubs up real nice and maybe he should start waving his magic wand in her direction more often--
Yeah, you would pick right now to come listen in, wouldn’t you Cherry? What? It’s not like they don’t hear worse in the playground.
Fine. Shoes; Canterella has her eyes on these Crystal Empire-inspired Coco Pommel originals; real flashy numbers, expensive. The fairy god-fence, he ain’t so sure; you need to have hoofwear you can really move in, in case you ever need to cheese it. But Cantella insists, and the fairy god-fence has trouble saying ‘no’ to a pretty face, so he gives her the shoes.
So Canterella rocks up at the Prince’s big shindig at the castle, and uses her ticket to bluff her way in. She waits until the party’s really swinging and the nobles are half-sozzled, then starts workin’ the room like a pro.
Don’t look at me like that, Cherry; you know I don’t mean that kind of pro.
Anyways, Canterella lifted herself some real nice pieces of jewelry, even helped herself to a couple of the smaller gifts from the Prince’s present table. It’s getting late, she’s loaded with swag, and she’s thinking it’s time to make for the exit before somepony sobers up a bit and tumbles to the missing shinies. That’s when Prince Blueblood spots her and asks her to dance.
A smarter pony would’ve made some lame excuse and legged it. But Canterella, she’s having the time of her life, see? So she starts dancing with the Prince, and everypony’s watching them going ‘who’s that charming young filly?’, and the Prince is telling her how attractive she is, though he’s pretty plastered by this point and is probably talking to his own reflection in her shoes.
Anyway, the Prince does one of those fancy dance moves where you spin the dame around and dip her over your fetlock, and one the necklaces she’s lifted goes flying out of Canterella’s frilly dress, right in front of everypony.
See, normally when you’re working this kind of job you have an offsider or several, so’s you can hoof the goods over as quick as possible. This is the risk you take if you’re working solo. You paying attention, kids? I hope so.
Back to the story. Some old broad out in the crowd recognizes the necklace, calls out ‘thief!’, and soon the whole place is going ass-, er, tails-up; yellin’, screamin’, angry Guards, the whole nine yards. Canterella manages to scarper, and bolts back to her fairy god-fence with the loot--
What? Nah. Maybe in your version; but in the real story she loses the Guards, not her shoe.
Anyway, she dumps the loot and the fancy get-up with her fairy god-fence, who says some very bad words that I’ll teach you when you’re a little older, and tries to sneak Canterella out of town. Thing is, all the ponies at the Prince’s party got a real good look at her and so the cops nab her on the way out. The fairy god-fence uses some of his fairy god-fence magic to get away, and has to go lay low until the heat dies down.
Canterella? Yeah, she gets chucked in the Royal Dungeons. And the moral of the story is that if you don’t act like a stoolie you can be out in five years with good behaviour, and have a nice little nest egg at the end of it. But if you do sing like a canary, well, the fairy god-fence knows some magic and some ponies on the inside what can turn that easy nickel into a real uncomfortable dime.
Okay, storytime’s over ya little rugrats. Now, scram; I need to talk to your mother.
Hey, Cherry, I got a little present for ya. Just a little something to say thanks for letting me lay low at your pad for a while. Here.
Coco Pommel originals? Don’t be dippy; those’re about a 800 bits a pair. More, for the right buyer. Nah, these are just some cheap Chineighese knock-offs; you can get ‘em for about forty bits on any street corner. Go on, try ‘em on.
Lookit that - a perfect fit!
Tell you what; how about I look after the ankle biters tonight, and you get yourself all done up nice and take yourself somewhere special? I dunno, maybe somewhere you can go dancing?
Y’never know, you just might catch yourself a Prince.
Diplomatic receptions were always a little tense, especially with both royal sisters present. Celestia came with centuries of horror stories at the negotiation table. Luna was still something of an unknown given her recent return, though more visceral horror stories were making their slow way around the world.
But sometimes the sisters bore witness to a truly staggering feat of ignorance, a creature who'd apparently assumed the sun and moon moved on their own. And that had only been the beginning of this particular ambassador's lack of knowledge.
"I suppose I can see it," Celestia said carefully after talks had concluded for the day. "You are the younger of the two of us."
"Not by very much—"
"Oh, but that's not how it looks" said a mare who'd been pushed really, really far by her sister more than once. "I mean, you're less than half my height!"
"Really."
"And your mane is... Well, the stars are nice enough but it's a little ostentatious, isn't it?"
"Really."
"You mustn't take it personally, Luna." Celestia merrily continued. "White—especially such a strong white like this—is just considered distinguished. Wise."
"Blinding."
"But you..." Celestia grinned. "Dark, brooding, emotional... is it any wonder they think of you as the youngest princess when you're basically—"
"Do not dare—"
"Nine. At best."
Raw fury impotently crashed against a truly obnoxious grin. "I'm going to overthrow you."
"Good. Have fun with the tax code."
Georg and CCC's Laser, Focused (Estee's "Princesses Produce Persistent Plumbing Problems")
"Scrubbie dubbie in the tubbie," sang Shining Armor as he added a gloop of No-Tears, No-Stress, Crystalberry Essence Shampoo to Flurry Heart's mane. "Is Daddy's little girl feeling happy in the tub? Yes, you're a good little girl..."
A faint rumbling made tiny ripples across the bathtub, which Shining Armor ignored in favor of more infant hair care, not even noticing the faint glow to the hair that swept down the tub drain when they were done. It took until Flurry had been fluffed with towels, read three stories, and put to bed before the noise floated up in his thoughts again.
"Hey, Cady. The castle plumbing has been acting up again. Want me to take a wrench and look into it?"
Cadence looked back at her handsome hubby and shook her head. "No. I remember the last time you tried home repair on the castle. And the time before that." She shrugged. "I'll have Twilight look into it next time she's up here. Alicorn magic needs some practical practice, after all. Besides, it's probably nothing."
(CCC)
Three weeks later
"...are you seeing it?" asked Celestia.
"Dost thou refer to yonder column of light, rising above the vicinity of the Crystal Empire?" inquired Luna.
"Yes... Are you pranking me with a dream, or do you think Cadance really needs help?"
"'Tis not a dream," says Luna. "That much, at least, I can be certain of. What it is, I cannot say with certainty..."
"...it's probably visible from Equestria," says Shining Armor, looking up at the column of light rising from the newly-evacuated Crystal Palace.
"No doubt, honey," said Cadence. "But do you have any idea what it is?"
"It's not any sort of deathtrap left by Sombra," mused Shining, "because if he was capable of this much, it would have triggered with less warning and we wouldn't have been able to evacuate in time. My current theory is that something in one of his labs escaped confinement... whatever it is, it's a very bright, very strong source of energy that's getting reflected and magnified through the crystalline structure of the Palace. If only we could figure out where it was coming from, we could probably handle it..."
"Hm. Pity about the timing, really... I'm going to go and find somewhere to give Flurry the rest of her bath, okay, dear?"
"And that's everything I've tried," Craig concluded later that week. "I just can't figure it out; it's like nothing's wrong with it at all, apart from where it doesn't run."
The mechanic grunted and looked up from the mower's engine. "Sir, do you, by any chance, have a unicorn for a neighbor?"
Craig blinked. "Um, yes, I do. Why do you ask?"
"And," the mechanic continued, heedless of the response, "I presume this unicorn suggested inviting their friends over to dine on your lawn since your mower was broken?"
A frown crossed Craig's features as he responded, "How could you have possibly known that?"
The mechanic ran a finger along the side of the engine and showed the result. The residue looked like dirt at first, but sparkled like powdered rainbows when he held it to the light. "Because, Mr. Hendershot... this was sabotage."
Georg's Deep Green (Georg and CCC's "Laser, Focused")
"Spike!" called out Princess Twilight Sparkle from somewhere inside the leafy library. "Is this all of the mail??"
"I put it on the writing desk, stacked by importance," called Spike back. He considered the chessboard in the dappled light of the afternoon cascading in through the open library window, reached out to make a move, then pulled his hand back. This game was getting tricky.
"Princess Celestia says we need to have the sewage lines inspected," called out Twilight again. "There's something about shed alicorn hair residue causing magical reactions, but her explanation is not making much sense."
"Uh-huh," said Spike, then cautiously moved a pawn.
"I mean if I'm shedding something dangerous," she continued, "I'd be affecting the whole town's sewage lines."
"If you did the bills, you would know we're not tied into the city sewage lines," called back Spike. "The library is old enough it has a septic tank somewhere under the roots."
There was a long pause, broken only by the scratching noise of Spike's opponent moving a bishop.
"A septic tank?" asked Twilight in a question that really did not need to be answered. "You mean all of our... waste products have been accumulating in a tank under the library for the last few years? That doesn't sound safe. Have you noticed anything weird going on?" added Twilight as she trotted over to Spike's chess game and stopped.
"Weird for Ponyville?" asked Spike with a shrug. He reached around the thin oak branch that had just moved a bishop and scooted the dragon's rook one square over. "Check," he announced. "I can still beat it three games out of four."
Georg's In Space, Nopony Can Hear You Play (Georg's "Out of sequence stories and Substitute Librarians," et al.)
"That's one small step for Equestria," announced Queen Chrysalis as she stepped out onto the powdery surface of the moon, "and one giant—"
There was a pause, far longer than a brief hesitation, while the Changeling Queen merely stood at the bottom of the Landing Module stairs. Then she turned slightly and began walking away with effortless short bounds in the direction of a nearby large boulder that only Rainbow Dash's quick reflexes had kept them from hitting on their descent.
"What gives?" called out the landing crew's co-pilot. "I thought we had a prepared line for this. Twilight made me memorize it like a hundred times before we left, and she's yelling in my ear right now."
"I've got my long-range receiver turned off for the moment," said Chrysalis. She stopped and looked in the shadow behind the boulder with her head cocked to one side. "I swear your pony princess doesn't have to breathe when she's talking, and she's been driving me crazy ever since we landed."
"Yeah, that's Twilight." Dash paused for a moment and quickly added, "Horseton Control, that's not going out live, is it? Oh. Just a minute, Chrysalis is looking at something. We'll get back on script shortly."
"It's a device of some sort," mused Chrysalis. "I didn't think we put any space probes into this area. Let me pick it up and bring it into the sunlight... I can't pick it up for some reason. My magic is just sliding off. Just a moment. I'm going to turn on my receiver and consult Princess Booksmart."
"Twilight Sparkle to Lunar One, can you describe the object? It must have been really strange for you stop like that."
"Well, it's black like it should be," started Chrysalis, "with three legs and a roughly triangular body... You know, it almost looks like a piano."
Jake The Army Guy's Mac Support (GaPJaxie's "Family Matters")
"You were looking forward to being a stallion and defending the mare you love?"
"Eeyup."
"You had a long, impassioned speech memorized about how love knows no bounds, and your parents had to fight for their love, and you were willing to fight for ours, and how any Apple who doubted our deep love could step up and take a buck to the face?"
"...mmaybe?"
"Would a kiss make you feel better?"
"... eeyup."
Krack-Fic Kai's Moonsilver Screen (Estee's "Release the Sparkle Cut")
Twilight, unusually, was laying in a defeated slump. Normally she was a surprisingly active mare, either pacing or pretending to work while pacing, but she'd worn herself out in the first few hours. Now she lay underneath the screen, softly groaning to herself.
A presence entered the theatre. The presence was cold, even in the just-cold-enough-to-be-uncomfortable screening room, and the hoofsteps heavy. The voice was old, powerful, mature, and only slightly smug. "So, Twilight Sparkle," Luna began, "Have we learned something?"
Twilight raised her head just enough to speak. "Just because we think we know the answers to everything," she said, "doesn't mean we haven't missed something."
Archly, "And?"
With considerable more reluctance; "And I was wrong and you were right."
Luna nodded in satisfaction. "Thank you, Twilight. I am glad to hear that you can learn from my own mistakes*..." She, unusually for her, hesitated. The ancient mare had made her point, and she was quite certain that Twilight would not make such a mistake again, but under another hoof...
Luna leaned forwards. "Do you still wish to try and correct my tax laws? You seemed quite certain—"
She frowned. Twilight had begun to either cry or manically giggle, and neither would end well. Mayhaps I should have waited until the effects of the film had worn off...
Georg's Raid-iate the Fridge (FoME's "The Flavor Cosmic")
The substitute librarian strolled back into the library's kitchenette to grab a snack before bedtime, because the mission that had sent the Bearers off in such a hurry had caught him just before dinnertime, and being teleported from Canterlot to Ponyville by an uncommunicative Royal Guard had not left him with any time to grab take-out. Opening the icebox, he meditated upon the contents within, like thousands of other male ponies when faced by the need to provide their own sustenance.
"Let's see," he mused, looking over the neatly labelled contents in the light of the icebox, "we have Entropic Chili, leftover Unfathomable Casserole with carrots, Indescribable Salad, Quantum Stewed Rutabaga, Non-Linear Asparagus..." Ever so slowly, the substitute librarian backed up and allowed the icebox door to close on its own.
That's not the icebox light glowing. It's the contents.
He stood there for a long moment, weighing his hunger against his common sense, then turned to the stove.
"Guess I'll just have to cook up some Raman noodles instead."
"Um, dear?" asked Shining Armor at Cadence's bedside while the doctor busied himself at Her Highness's other end. "I'm not sure you should be doing that."
"She wanted to be here," Cadence growled as sparks began to fly from her glowing horn. "She demanded it. I'm not going to deny my darling daughter's request to be present at the—ARRRGHHH!!—birth of her sibling!"
Shining Armor took a long look at the coil of blue magic constricting Flurry, pulsing and throbbing in time with his wife's labor contractions. "I still don't think—"
"IF SHE LEAVES, YOU'RE UP NEXT!" Cadence bellowed through a contraction, which left Flurry to make a squeaking noise much like a dog toy being squeezed.
After due consideration for both his mortality and that of his daughter, Shining Armor settled back down and patted his wife on the fetlock. "You know best, dear."
AdmiralTigerclaw's Letter from the Erector (Estee's "The Bridge Over The River WHY?")
Dear EVERYONE (Yes, that includes you, Princess Luna),
It has come to my attention that quite a few of you have many things to say about the project I am currently working on. As such I have been bombarded with a number of, shall we say, 'colorful' messages regarding your needs leveraged against the perception of my competency. Allow me to make something clear:
Sod off, and stop bothering my stallions!
As with all state-approved projects, estimations for materials, money, time, and hoof-power were established, refined, and approved before project start. Traffic considerations and estimations on growth for the next five decades were taken into account, and safety standards are in line with Royal Construction Mandate Document CC48 Section 7, part 12. In specific, the bridge falls under a class four medium heavy-weight traffic crossing, mandating slopes of no more than 8 degrees with a height not to exceed treetop level (or forty feet) without appropriate anti-collision illumination for what is considered MNPCA (Minimum Nighttime Pegasus Cruise Altitude). (Thus, it is to be concluded that one night princess would be flying at what is legally considered dangerously, and recklessly low altitude according to the modern Skylark Modern Safety Standard. And if she has a problem with this, she can take it up with the EFA.) Further, this bridge is designed to adhere to a class 3 river flow durability standard, with clearance for both anti-blockage, as well as small boat or ferry passage. And of course, the bridge adhere's to Section 8 of the Anti-Troll-Bridge act, and there contains no spacing for creatures of any kind persist out of sight of travelers.
I was contracted to build a bridge, not babysit a bunch of foals.
Signed, Engineer Foremane Brownhoof Brownhoof and Stainless Construction Inc.
ChrisCornflake's The Maning of Manes (Georg's "Ray Bradbury Anniversary - With Ponies")
"We've won the war, you can come back!", shouted the man as he approached the homes the Earthmen had set up. "Jacob? Ruth? Where are you?"
As he looked around the houses, seeing the drying clothes fluttering on the clotheslines, he pushed open the front door and raced in, eager to find his brother.
The kitchen was empty, bare for the plates and cutlery and cups, sitting ready for supper.
"John, get over here!" he heard his copilot called out.
Stampeding out the house, boots stamping against the hardwood and shutting the door with a slam, John ran in a panic. "What is it? Did you find them? Wha-?" he stuttered as he suddenly ground to a halt.
"I know, right? The last transmission said they were gone, but it looks like some natives survived!"
The pony, for what else could it be other than a pony, neighed and bickered at them, its coat a white color, dirty with shadowy streaks, and its mane a golden yellow. For a moment his vision blurred, and he saw two spacemen, their suits white, dirty with crease caused shadows, golden reflective eye protection helmets standing side by side, but he shook his head and the image was lost.
"Couldn't they talk? They had a princess, we had transmissions, they offered safety for refuges from the war. Why is this one not able?"
"Could be some small number survived, they devolved. You know, with no one here to counter the claim, the planet's free for the taking, right?"
He thought about it for a moment. Planets that one could live unaided on were rare, and ones that were not struck by the most recent war even moreso. The houses were already here, but empty, and if he brought his family, they'd be safe, not having to worry about post-war troubles. Simple math, really.
"Well, if we are the first ones here, we get to name things! You know, that mountain over there looks like a castle, I think I'll call it Camelot. And that island we passed over earlier? I could have sworn it looked like Long Island, I think we'll call it Manhattan!" He tried to put the thoughts of Jacob out of his mind, another casualty of the war, remembering as those grey eyes stared at him and told him that this was would be the death of him. Well, hah, who died? Not me!
The two pilots carried on, whilst the pony, for what ever could it be but a pony, chewed some haygrass, and watched, as the two Earthmen divvied up the planet, and made plans. His horn glowed softly, and he trotted away, unnoticed. His family had found a few apple trees recently, and his wife was wanting to make some pastries. Jacob, the pony, for what ever could he be but a pony, went home.
Kris Overstreet's Venti and a Shot (FoME's "Ferment Unrest")
So far as casual observers could tell, the dark brew that had been poured from the flame-blackened ceramic pot into the tiny shot glass had two effects. One, it made the imbiber scream uncontrollably at the top of their lungs. Two, it gave the same imbiber a waiver from any need to inhale, or so it seemed based on the length and continuing volume of the screaming.
Berry Punch looked at the zebra on the other end of the pot, who had the grace to look embarrassed. Over the screaming of the horrified patron she shouted, "AND THIS IS WHY YOU CUT IT WITH MILK AND SUGAR FOR PONIES!"
"ALL DAY TODAY I'VE HAD BUT ONE GUEST!" the zebra shouted back. "AND HE ASKED FOR THE BEVERAGE I THOUGHT WAS STRONGEST!"
Taking a quick look around the booths, Berry spotted a booth offering McColt's Old-Fashioned Water of Livin', in a row of little earthware jugs with cork stoppers. She took one, uncorked it, poured a carefully measured amount into a jigger, and then said, "GRAB HIS NOSE!"
A snout was grabbed, a head was tilted back, and a small amount of clear liquid fire masquerading as "moonshine" went down a throat.
A moment of silence ensued while the afflicted stallion finally inhaled.
And then the screams had words. "WE'RE NOT REAL! NOTHING IS REAL! WE'RE ALL TINY ONES AND ZEROES IN A MACHINE! MILLIONS OF ONES AND ZEROES!!"
Berry snorted. "KILIPONJARO OR SERENGAITI ROAST?" she asked.
"HE ASKED FOR THE STRONGEST THING I VEND!" the zebra shouted back. "SO I SERVED HIM THE BEEFIOPIAN BLEND!"
"BEEFIOPIAN??" Berry shouted. "WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY THAT BEFORE!" A slightly smaller amount of moonshine was poured out, and shortly after poured in. The screaming stopped, leaving behind a trembling, panting, weak-kneed stallion left to lean on his friends.
"Nothing else but water for him the rest of the day," Berry said. "But tomorrow, once he's back on his hooves, let him get as drunk as he likes. He'll need it."
"And that'll cure him?" one of his friends asked.
Berry shook her head. "No, it'll just keep him stable," she said. "But there are some things that just can't be unseen, no matter how much brain bleach you use."
"Er..." Another pony raised a hoof. "Was he right about the... er... the ones and zeroes thing?"
Berry didn't blink an eye. "If you absolutely have to know, ask somebody from Ponyville about the reign of the Great and Powerful Trixie," she said. "But not me."
And with that she took the little brown jug of moonshine and slammed down the remaining contents.
(Unrelated to the above; see the second paragraph of the spoiler.)
The roof of the outhouse crashed to the street and shattered into its constituent wooden shingles.
As ponies gathered to investigate the explosion, they saw a black, flaming figure standing (a bit bow-legged) in the smoking remains of the outhouse, glaring at the world.
The nirik roared, "I WANT TO KNOW WHO CUT MY DRINKS WITH DIESEL!!"
"Okay, Maud," Pinkie Pie said a few days after the party, "so the potion wasn't the best of ideas, but my new idea is going to knock your socks off! So go get some socks and put them on, so it can knock them off!"
Maud Pie tilted her head the tiniest of fractions. "What is it?" she said, looking at the small object Pinkie was holding. It was a small yellow disc with three black marks on it: two dots on one half, and a straight line on the other. It looked a little like musical notation.
"It's an emotion badge!" Pinkie said, holding it up with the dots on the top half. "I just stick this to you—" She pressed it against Maud's chest, and it clung as if taped in place. "—and anypony who looks at it can see how you feel!"
Maud slowly blinked. Out of her field of view, the horizontal line curved downward and tilted to one side. "I don't get it."
FredMSloniker's Clip Notes (The Hat Man's "Cruise Control")
On the morning of Clipper's 21st birthday, Hayworth woke him with a polite, but loud chime.
"Good morning, Clipper. I have an important message for you from Optimal Enterprises. Now that you are 21 years old, you are eligible to—"
"Ugh," Clipper said, voice muffled by his pillow. "Hayworth, it's too early for this—"
Hayworth continued as if Clipper hadn't spoken. "—join an experimental program to cure Automation-Based Delayed Development. If you would like to participate—"
Clipper looked up from his pillow, still bleary from oversleeping but vaguely aware that Hayworth was saying something actually important.
"- simply read the text on your hoofheld device aloud, which will constitute your signature and authorize Optimal Enterprises to treat you for this condition."
It took a moment more for Clipper to process what he'd heard, but when he spoke, it was with an eagerness he hadn't felt in some time. "If I do this, they can give me a cutie mark?"
"While the process is experimental, results to date have been highly successful," Hayworth said, tone as neutral as always.
That was all Clipper needed to hear; the pegasus groped at his bedside table, retrieving his PDA and squinting at the screen until the words came into focus. "'I, Clipper, do hereby authorize Optimal Enterprises to enroll me in the Satisfaction Program and to take whatever measures are necessary to cure my ABDD and provide me with a cutie mark,'" he read. "So now what?"
Hayworth didn't answer. Clipper's bedroom door sliding open, revealing two severe-looking ponies in matching OE jumpsuits, was answer enough.
"Hello, and welcome to Mane and Tail!" Clipper said, grinning broadly at the young unicorn and the older earth pony as they stepped into the salon. "I'm Clipper, and I'll be your personal assistant today. How may I assist you?"
The older pony's lip curled in distaste, but she replied politely, "My daughter needs a mane cut, so she'll look nice for her birthday party."
"I'm eight!" the younger pony said, a single spark jumping from her horn in her excitement. "And I just got my cutie mark!" She turned to show it off, a cluster of yellow flowers, and her mother smiled indulgently at her.
"Primroses for my little Primrose," she said. Then her expression turned sour again as she looked at Clipper, who just grinned at the two of them.
"That's wonderful!" he said, turning slightly to show his own, an electric trimmer and comb. "I remember how excited I was to get my own cutie mark. What kind of mane cut would you like?"
As Primrose chattered and Clipper led her to one of the styling stations, her mother shuddered slightly, looking around the salon at the other ponies working. All of them had bright eyes and broad grins, as if nothing brought them more joy than working at this strip mall haircut shop. All of them had cutie marks related to cutting, styling, or cleaning. And all of them, in the corner of those cutie marks, had an identical symbol: a horseshoe-like U curled around a disc sliced to look like an E, all in chrome.
These next-gen automatons are so creepy, she thought. They almost look like real ponies.
Twilight nodded as she looked about the throne room. "Yes, going by your reactions, I can assume without loss of generality that you all know what I'm talking about."
Many of the others squirmed in their seats trading uncomfortable looks. Rarity spoke up first. "Twilight, darling, this seems... well... how can I put this..."
Applejack slammed a hoof on the Cutie Map as she answered. "This'n is borderline tribalist, Twi. A unicorn can't make jokes about pegasi bein' 'like that' these days. It ain't the done thing."
"I'm an alicorn!" Twilight cried, flaring her wings both for emphasis and out of shock. "That makes me a pegasus!"
Pinkie hemmed and hawed a bit at that. "You're kind of a pegasus."
"You guys are overreacting," said Rainbow Dash. "I'm a pegasus and I think this material is hilarious. Twilight, I officially give you permission to use your pegasus privilege."
"Rainbow, dear, I feel like... mmm... how to put this..." After a deep breath, all uncertainty left Rarity's expression. "I feel like this is a prelude to you going back to making jokes about unicorns and their horns, and then Twilight will feel like she can't be mad at you because you gave her permission for her own comedy stylings."
"You're so suspicious, Rarity." Dash rolled her eyes. "But I guess we can't expect better from somepony with a counterclockwise horn spiral."
Georg's Moment with the Sun (Estee's "Daily Equestria Life with Monster Girl")
Celestia heaved a deep sigh and turned to her sister. "Do you mind if I show her? She is our Guard, and I'll make certain to return them to their proper place when we're done."
"But they always get so... drooley? Very well," said Luna with a short huff. "I'll make an exception this one time."
"Luna's such a dear," said Celestia into Cerea's ear. "Hold onto your inner ear for a moment. This can be disconcerting the first few times."
The world turned inside-sideways and about four brisk steps to the left, and by the time Cerea's eyes cleared, all she could see was stars.
All she could see were stars. In every direction. Except for Celestia, who was vaguely star-like herself.
"This will only take a moment, and I needed this time anyway," said Celestia as she used her magic to pry loose one of the glittering stars next to them, which looked about the size of a soccer ball once it was hovering beside her. "I've been so busy lately that I haven't had time to visit. Come here, boy! Come on! Fetch!"
A golden ball of fur and light bounded in their direction in a way that made Cerea think of a golden retriever, if made out of real gold and pure light. It circled once around Celestia with happy bounds, then bolted off into the distance when the tall alicorn gave the star a brisk toss.
"We can't do this for long," admitted Celestia. "The astronomers get upset and Twilight writes me all kinds of letters. But Sunny loves our playtime so much. Did you want to give it a toss?" she added as the golden creature bounded back in their direction with the star in its 'mouth.'
"Urk!" said Cerea.
Heavyhauler75622's Hoary Old Adversary (Boopy Doopy's "Twilight Versus The Home Owners Association")
"Yes, our newest Princess?" Always serene. Even when Equestria burned down the last five times...
"I can't help but wonder...does the Canterlot HOA bother you all the time?" Twilight wearily asked, sure to hear that Celestia had the irritants intercepted by a even more pronounced bureaucratic minion that out-monotoned and more nimbly picked at useless points of minutiae than the irritants did...
A shocked, blank look. "HOA?"
"Ponyville's HOA came by my Castle. Just drove me crazy! Grass height, wrong colors, even how the doors opened! And the portraits inside. They wanted me to get rid of yours; yours and Luna's!"
"HOA..."
"Yeah. Ponyville's HOA. I didn't even know Ponyville had one! And they had the nerve to present me with a two-bit bill, and ask me for my autograph, called me a PINO, demanded I thatch my roof..."
Celestia pirouetted around, and bellowed, "LUNA! WE GOT ONE!!!" as her forehoof slammed down on a red button on the wall. A bell started up with a buzzy ring.
"HUZZAH!!! I SHALL BRING MY SWORD Necromancer's Bane! DO YOU WISH ARMOR?" sounded happily from the bedroom.
"THE HEAVY BATTLE ARMOR! THE SET WITH THE LARGE GOUGES AND THE BLOOD STILL ON IT!"
"AND THE RANK STINK OF BATTLE SWEAT???"
"FOR TARTARUS' SAKE, YES! WE ARE ONCE AGAIN CALLED TO SAVE THE REALM!!!"
A gleefully fat chuckle came from the bedroom. "I HAVEN'T RUN ANYPONY THROUGH IN CENTURIES, CELLY! LET US MAKE HASTE! BEFORE THE LAWYERS BECOME INVOLVED!!!"
Georg's The Shadow Over Canterlot (Starscribe's "Forbidden Places")
"Ymg' actions ep ah c'thulah.... Ahem. Excuse me."
Kaelyn whirled around on unsteady hooves to look at the small, quiet, somewhat grey-ish pony who was standing in the room quietly, despite not having been there a moment ago. There was really nothing to identify him as anything special except the pinstriped suit, which looked suspiciously like a second grey skin, and his featureless white eyes.
"Sorry about that, ma'am. Not used to the humidity here. In any event, you may consider this your one warning before our client issues a restraining order."
"Restraining order?" echoed Kaelyn while carefully backing up, keeping her 'mate' behind her.
"A very restraining order," added the grey stallion. "You have been warned."
With that, the grey stallion faded into the faint shadows of the room, until moments later it was like he had never been there at all. Well, except for the lingering scent of seaweed and an ever-so-faint sound of distant voices that she tried her best not to hear.
"What was that?" gasped Tellin, peering around her shoulder. "Some kind of monster."
"Worse." Kaelyn fought down a shudder. "A lawyer."
Fillyfoolish's Quod Erat Duvet-Strandum (Fillyfoolish's "Topology")
“You fit snugly in a bounding rectangle. Hence you are compact.”
Sunset quirked her eyebrow. "Remind me, what does fitting into a bounded rectangle have to do with open covers?"
Twilight frowned. "You never learned about the Heine-Borel theorem?"
Sunset grinned deviously and reached her hand under Twilight's sweatpants, cupping her bottom cheek and squeezing. "That theorem?"
"N--No," Twilight said behind a pronounced blush, quick breaths, and a faint smile. "That's the Heinie-Bare-Elle Theorem from differential geometry." She swallowed. "Completely different."
Sunset retreated her hand and planted a little kiss on Twilight's ruddy cheek. "My bad. Do you mind teaching me about this Heinie-Bare-Elle Theorem?" She flashed a smirk. "Please present a rigorous proof."
Twilight skipped a breath. "....Tonight? My place?"
Sunset wagged her eyebrows, accepting the invitation by bringing her fingers to her lips and blowing a kiss.
Twilight hid her joy behind her hand as she pushed up her glasses. "The Heine-Borel Theorem, on the other hand, states that a subset of Euclidean space is compact if and only if it is closed and bound. The proof that closed and bounded implies compact is by contradiction. Let C be an open cover of a closed and bounded set S such that C does not have a finite subcover..."
Sunset curled a lock of her hair behind her ears as she listened, more to the familiar sound of her girlfriend's voice than to the words modulated over that voice, and smiled gently.
"...In conclusion, because you are closed and bounded, you are compact."
Sunset chuckled. “Ah, so I can be covered in finitely many open sets, wonderful.”
Krack-Fic Kai's It's Time to Play the Music (Estee's Horsefeathers! (or: I'll Say She Isn't))
The idea had been straightforward. She had greatly hurt the arts with her reviews, and many theaters had closed down. Therefore, she decided to finance a large production, with the aim of bringing interest back to the theatre. The only provision, which she had felt was fair, was that the play had to be done up to her own standards.
It wasn't as though it was unreasonable; after all, she understood what had been wrong last time. She knew theatre well, she knew what ponies liked (reasonably) well, and yet every time she reached out to a director they were unavailable. Or out of town. Or in one special case, had disappeared entirely.
Luna been forced to expand her search past Canterlot, but the few that had been interested hadn't been willing to travel to put on her show. She'd been close to expanding outside Equestria when she'd received a positive answer, from a group that had agreed to meet with her at the train. There's been frustratingly little information about the troupe (and the lack of information was interesting in itself) and she planned on getting answers from them in person.
Luna stared at the person at the train platform. It didn't help.
"Wow," he said as he stared up at Luna. He was short, blue, and had an odd nose. There were a great many other odd features, but her mind was too confused to note them. "This is so exciting! Prose looks weird, we're barely in books and things. I think we had a comic a while ago. I played Sherlock Holmes— Oh!" With an odd glee, he lowered himself onto one knee before her. "Cool!" He said. "Getting us to kneel on TV is kinda hard because you have to cut around... Well, we don't like to talk about them. But we're just words here so there's way more options. Hey." And there was a gleam in his eye that reminded her of Rainbow Dash. "What kind of stunts can I do here? I wish this wasn't just a flash-fic—"
"HOLD ON!"
The small whatever-it-was's eyes widened in fear as a voice thundered from behind him. Luna considered herself to be something of an expert at shouting and was impressed that such volume could come from something so small. The short blonde thing emerged through the doors, stormed up to Luna's small friend, and shouted "Are you kidding me? Appearing in fan-fiction is bad enough, but this isn't even a real Estee story?"
"You want to be in an Estee story," said a mare who felt as though her skepticism was personally justified.
"But of course," said the pig-like actress. "You know what I get with Disney? Romantic lead. Every. Time. But in an Estee story, there'd be drama," and she actually turned to the side and put a hand to her forehead, performing to an unseen audience. "I'd have some kind of tragic backstory about how my parents didn't support my passion, so I went on the road and became a showgirl, only for a dashing host to realize my potential and give me my own skit which led to our whirlwind romance. Then my parents find out about how famous I am, and then they'll beg my forgiveness because I'm just so famous and pretty."
Luna went back to just staring. It fell upon her new shorter friend to speak up. "Gee, that doesn't sound very sad."
"Well, of course it's not sad" the actress snapped. "I don't want to read a sad story. I. Want. Drama!"
He thoughtfully nodded, but Luna stepped forwards. "You wish for your story to be darker?"
"Like you!" she unwisely continued. "You've got all this baggage and everyone loves you! I just want a little bit of that."
Luna slowly nodded. "Then I shall grant you your request."
There was a flash of light, and the pig was gone.
Her smaller friend hesitantly poked the air where she'd gone. He had an odd way of moving; his arm swung out as if something pulled it, but there was clearly nothing moving it. "Did you disintegrate her?"
Luna shook her head. "She wished for the same kind of... 'drama' that I had endured. I merely gave her an opportunity to claim it."
He stared at her for a moment, and then at the full moon.
"Not so far away— Ah. Here she comes."
A small screaming bundle of rage and terror smashed through the roof of the train and lay still. Luna politely knocked on the door. "Now," she said, "if I understand you... people correctly, you can emerge from this door injured in a manner that is funny, and have said injuries forgotten in the next scene. But if drama is truly your desire, then you can allow yourself to be more greatly harmed."
Her small friend was staring at her with wide eyes. She wasn't sure if it was fear or awe.
"The choice is yours," Luna finished. She waited.
After a long moment, the door slid open. The actress's eye was black and one arm was in a cast, despite the lack of medical supplies in the car. She pushed past the two of them, grumbling under her breath. Luna nodded in satisfaction. "Now," she said to her short friend, "you will help me locate your leader. I believe I have been somewhat misled as to who precisely I am in business with..."
"Right here!" came a reply from inside the car. The door slid open, revealing an angular green person staring at the pig-shaped hole in the ceiling. He visibly shook it off and turned to the princess. "It's very nice to meet you, Your Highness."
"And you as well," Luna said, "and I hope this doesn't come across as rude, but what are you people!?"
"He's a frog!" Her short friend said happily, "And I'm... well, not an alien. Past that nobody knows..."
Luna closed her eyes. "This is Equestria," She said. "A specific and, yes, dramatic version of Equestria. We do not normally have talking frogs and talking... whatevers. Let alone talking puppets!"
They both stared at Luna, waiting for the thunder to stop booming. "Woah!" The blue one said. "She'll fit right in with us! It's like being back with the Count! Oh, Kermit, try bowing! You'll love it—"
"Gonzo," came an incredibly patient reply that reminded Luna of her sister, "can you give me a few minutes?"
"Sure!" He exclaimed happily. "Oh, by the way, she teleported Miss Piggy through the roof of the train, so you're gonna have to talk to her about that later. Have fun!"
Luna watched the green amphibian turn to look in the direction "Miss Piggy" had gone and visibly swallowed. It was odd because she was very sure he didn't have a throat. "Okay, look," he said, "I know all of us—some more than others—can be a little hard to get used to. But if you give us a chance, I promise we'll give you a show-stopper you'll never forget."
Emil's Well-Rounded Flavor (Georg's "Raid-iate the Fridge")
Emerald looked at the two identical, if unusually shaped, packets of instant ramen. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, then reopened them to see the same impossible sight. Two brightly colored spherical packages of ramen, with the splashy advertisement of "Real Neighponese Miso Flavor- It's All Inside The Ball!" on the wrapper, underneath the manufacturer's logo. On the other hemisphere were some rather detailed instructions.
He mentally reviewed the past 30 seconds. After he had the pot of water boiling, he had removed the ONE packet of ramen from the cupboard, followed a few strange instructions about tearing the wrapper and rotating the package in specific ways...and now there were two identical packages of ramen on the counter.
Emerald picked up the new package and read the instructions. They were identical to the initial package's. He performed the strange ritual again. Three packets of ramen sat in front of him.
He took a close look at the logo and sighed as he ripped the third packet open and tossed the ball of dried noodles into the boiling water. "Well, if this Banach-Tarski ramen tastes good, I'll need to look into where to order it."
The noodles tasted wonderful.
Brumby_Run's Bolder than Death (Estee's "Go Into The Underworld To Save The One You Love...")
On his rounds of the underworld, Hades found Sisyphus sitting midway up the mountain. He traveled down, and stood before his charge.
“Have you completed your task?”
“No, a small horse came to free the boulder.”
“How?”
“She came to push it out of Tartarus”
“You know the horse was female?”
“She wore a toga, in a feminine style.”
“And she freed you from the boulder?”
“No. I was nothing to her. An impediment, an obstruction. She freed the boulder from me.”
“You never once cursed the stone. You invoked the name of every god, and mortal, in new and inventive ways. But you never once called out against the rock?”
“There seemed to be no point,” Sisyphus said, “in cursing a fellow prisoner. Less so, now it is gone with its little pony companion.”
“And yet, you remain.”
“The task is not complete.”
Sisyphus pulled a pebble from the ground, and held it up. He examined it, before casually tossing it over his shoulder. He went back to feeling the ground.
“We slid and fell so many times. I felt each chip, each gouge on its surface. Are the fragments not part of the whole?”
He pulled another pebble from the ground, looked at it, and smiled. He stood, and carried it to the summit. He carefully laid it down on the highest point. He turned, but stopped in thought. He reached back down, and picked up the fragment again. Without crossing the summit himself, he reached out and dropped the pebble as far on the leeward side that he could. Satisfied, he made his way back down to continue his search.
“Do you intend to scour the entire mountain,” Hades asked, “for flints and stone-chips?”
“Would you permit me to leave if I didn’t?”
“It will take you an eternity.”
“No, it will take a very long time. I’ve got an eternity in which to do it...”
Speckle's Peeved Review (Estee's "Autoapproval Was A Mistake")
Waking up the next day, Twilight Sparkle learned just how bad it'd gotten in her absence.
She learned this when, only halfway through a thorough—if sheepish—explanation out of Spike, a furious series of knocks against the library door interrupted him. She'd barely gotten it fully open when a lilac muzzle came within an inch of smashing into her lavender.
"Are you out of your hoity-toity skull, Sparkle?"
"Fuh...Flitter?"
"You left a bucking minor to run the entire library all by himself on the busiest day of the bookselling world?!" It was, indeed, Flitter. And she didn't look happy. True, that tended to be a universal constant, but this morning had her flaring her wings in an aggression display. "I thought you, at least, had brains!"
Eardrums ringing, Twilight tried to collect herself enough to answer, "Th-the Princess...she said—"
"To drop everything and run, yeah. I heard. So what else is new?" Flitter's glare trumped any indignation Twilight returned, because she pressed on without skipping a beat. "Wanna know how many parents around town are filing complaints because their foal read material way above their grade level? Graphic murder mysteries, raunchy romance novels, sex-ed?" Twilight had not, though she'd gotten far enough in Spike's explanation to know that Chief Miranda Rights had a list of some kind waiting for her to pick up. "Sweet Tartarus, that stuff probably scared half the school into eternal virginity."
Twilight heard Spike let out a very loud, very long groan of total, utter dismay behind her.
"I... look, it was on such short notice—"
"Cow patties!" Pegasi didn't have earth pony strength, but Flitter didn't seem to care as she slammed her hoof on the ground. "You had two days to get it together before Big Important Trip Number Whatever; you could've asked anypony for help, any responsible adult who knew the rules better than a kid left to their own devices to help him run a library swamped to the ceiling. Buck, I would've helped if I knew what was happening sooner! Instead, I gotta hear about it from Chaser after work, about how little Rumble was given The Talk from somepony who wasn't his big brother! Who, by the way, is fuming."
"I—"
"Seriously, Sparkle, you did more than drop the ball on this one. You dropped the whole dang hoofball stadium!" With one final glare, punctuated by a snort, Flitter spun around on her hooves—coming centimeters of clocking Twilight with her tail in the process—and stalked off into town proper, leaving Twilight staring after her in the doorway.
It was early. Some might claim that nopony's brain worked that well so soon out of bed without any wake-up juice. In Twilight's case, it was a matter of some parts working much faster than others. "Any responsible adult."
Flitter paused, wings poised for takeoff, and looked back. "What?"
"You said I could ask any responsible adult," said the most active parts of Twilight's mind.
"Yeah, and?"
Twilight gave a pointed look at the library's ravaged shelves before turning back to Flitter. "Let me know when you find one."
Guilt, remorse, and a letter to the Princess would come later. For now, Snark shut the door and went to comfort her brother.
Georg's Rock This Barn (Estee's "Fanart: Three Pieces, Many Colors")
"I'm sorry," said Twilight in her absolutely most sincere voice, in a way that Applejack knew without a doubt was perfectly honest and without a shred of deception, although she could also sense a whole stack of apologies for past misdeeds behind it, and worse, a whole passel of future apologies for whatever Future-Twilight did next week, or next year.
"That's fine," said Applejack. "The barn was already plum near ten years old and startin' to look a bit shabby. We was probably gonna hafta tear it down and rebuild next year anyway. Jus' gonna be a little early, that's all. Asides, it was me who brought up politics while we was walkin' anyway."
Princess Twilight drooped even more in the afternoon Sun, little flecks of charred wood dropping out of her mane and a faint ring of dust still coiling unnaturally around her. "I stomp when I get aggravated. You know that."
"Yep." Applejack took one last look at the location of the Southwest barn, or at least what was left after a hundred-trot-tall spur of rock had burst out from under it and provided propulsion to send it, or at least most of it, into what could be considered Equestrian orbit. "Don't worry, Twi. We'll work on it."
Georg and SIGAWESOME's Wicked Weave (FoME's "(Doesn't) Workhorse")
There was an alicorn in the chandelier of the Royal Hall.
Everypony knew it, since the process of an alicorn ascending into the ceiling and wrapping around the reinforced (because it had happened before) cluster of crystals was rather loud, lengthy, and... Well, loud. The Royal Canterlot Scream had been known to carry for miles, and those in the castle who heard it paused briefly in their tasks to see if perhaps a matching screech could be heard from the Ponyville direction as Twilight resonated with her teacher's terror. In short order, a squad of armored Royal Guards stampeded into the emptied chambers and began to poke around with spears. One notable brilliant member of the golden guards had the common sense to look in an upward direction—although not too much since Celestia's rear was pointed in the downward direction—and call out a question.
"Your Highness! What did you see?"
"Sp-sp-sp-spidereseses!!" she screeched, gaining a little more altitude at the cost of several ill-fastened crystals. "In the cushions! Three at least!"
There was an alicorn and an entire squad of Royal Guards in the chandelier of the Royal Hall...
(SIGAWESOME)
The Royal Hall burned brightly, throwing the classical architecture of Old Canterlot into stark relief by the light of the roaring flames.
Luna played a jaunty little tune on a kazoo. Tiberius, dressed in jauntily dapper evening wear, sat on her mane and played accompaniment with a jaw harp.
Celestia cocked an eyebrow at Luna
"What? 'Tis a noble tradition for rulers to play an instrument while their city burns. Just like Feather August."
Celestia rolled her eyes. "First of all, that was Neighro, not Feather, and second I would hardly call this burning down all Canterlot!"
"Oh, I don't know Sister," Luna glanced slyly at Celestia with a slight smirk. "The night is still young, and besides, when have you ever done anything in half measures?"
Celestia merely sat down with a huff and stared into the swirling flames in silence while Tiberius and Luna played on.
Luna paused to raise a protective heat shield around a team of pegasi guiding a small, rain-swollen thunderhead over the blaze.
"I don't think I remember him Sister. Was Neighro the little colt who tried to swallow a frog and got bad gas from asparagus?"
"No, Luna," Celestia tittered behind her hoof, "that was not Neighro. Neighro was the colt who liked to chase and catch parasprites, and who tripped over his tail and spilled that expensive basket of strawberries."
"Oh."
"Umm... Excuse me? Princesses?"
Both Celestia and Luna turned to see a diminutive owl-tabby griffon standing off to the side wearing a natty tweed jacket.
"And who might you be?"
"Oh! I am sorry, Your Highnesses. I am Geir Gellert, Professor of Equestrian Entomology and Geology at Ponyville University. I heard something about spiders?"
Celestis visibly shuddered and closed her eyes in a wince. "Yes. Spiders. At least three of them. They burrowed out of the marble floor and into the cushion. My cushion. The cushion I was sitting on."
"You said they came out of the marble floor?" Geir's ear-tufts perked up and he leaned forward in visible excitement. "Did you see their colour? Were they blue and glittery by any chance?"
"As a matter of fact, now that you mention it, yes I do recall they were quite blue and sparkly."
"Those, my dear princesses, are no mere spiders! Those Mountain Sapphire Arocknids! Long thought to be extinct! I studied those for my rocktorate. My whole life's work, I have only had mineral fragments and oral legends, but now after all these years, you discover not one, but three specimens!" Geir was all but bobbing up and down in excitement and leaned in, "How big were they?"
"Huge!" Celestia held her hooves half a hoofwidth apart. "I have never seen spiders that large since Luna and I fought in the Great Burning of the Southern Woodlands."
Gier jerked back in disbelief. "But that is impossible! No arocknid was ever that small!" He paused, thoughtfully tapping his beak with a talon. "Unless..."
"Unless?"
"Unless... Unless they were gravid females! Oh this is wonderful Princess! Do you know what this means?"
"No?"
"It means there is a sizeable breeding population of arocknids living under Canterlot! If you saw that many above ground, there may be hundreds, if not tens of thousands of them in the old Crystal Mines throughout the Canterhorn! They are not extinct after all! Isn't that wonderful?"
The Canterhorn glowed a bright yellow-orange, slowly oozing down to the burning plains below as a searing, actinic column of magic boiled the peak into super-heated plasma.
Luna continued to play the kazoo.
SIGAWESOME's Petarded by Her Own Hoist (FoME's "(Doesn't) Workhorse")
Local human Jessie stood back to admire the fresh coat of eggshell blue on the Hills Hoist in her front yard. It originally sported a fetching white enamel coating, but after yesterday, Jessie decided it was best she change the colour.
Maybe it was the two milk-stallions who reared back in fright and jack-knifed their milk cart. Maybe it was Derpy cowering and whimpering piteously behind the postbox. Or maybe it was the little filly who tripped amidst the stampede of her terrified classmates and sat bawling in the middle of the walk with a skinned knee.
Regardless of how it began, it certainly ended when Sergeant Sentry bravely dove out of the sun and toppled the Hoist with a flying hoof-kick. Jessie lost some of her underthings to grass-stains, but Ponyville gained a new hero.
Silly little ponies...
Jessie shook her head. Hopefully the new blue coating would not spook her neighbours and she could finally finish her laundry.
The sound of flapping wings and a soft *thump* brought her out of her reverie. Only one pony she knew sounded like that, with that distinctive little stumble-step.
"Good morning Derpy."
"Wow! You're really good at that! You didn't even see me and I was trying my best to be extra quiet! I got your mail and I—"
Jessie was about to ask Derpy about her mail, but caught short when she saw Derpy's reaction. Ears splayed, nostrils flaring, muscles taught, eyes wide and staring. she was frightened, absolutely terrified.
Jesse held out her hands placatingly and tried to calm the spooked mailmare.
Don't want to create another scene like yesterday and possibly hurt another filly or colt on their way to school.
"Derpy? Derpy, it's OK. There is nothing to fear, it's going to be OK—"
"No! Nononononoooo! It was white yesterday but now it's blue! It's blue! Bluuueee!"
Derpy took to the air with a burst of loose feathers and fluttering envelopes as she flew off with a terrified wail of "It's blueeee!"
Jessie pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head in exasperation. So much for not creating a scene. She looked up and down her street and saw several parents stamping the sidewalk nervously, shielding their colts and fillies from the terrible spectre of Once White But Blue Today.
Things were rapidly getting out of hand—err hoof.
The sound of more flapping caused Jessie to look up to the sight of a uniformed Rainbow Dash leading a flight of Friendship Guard pegasi.
One of the guards, the one with the most bars on his little horsey epaulettes, reared back in shock, quickly assessed the situation and started barking orders.
"Oh Tirek's teats! She was right! It was white, but it is now blue! Dash! Go get the princess! I don't care if she is still sleeping, showering, or eating breakfast! This is an emergency! It's blue now!"
Dash snapped a quick salute and zipped off towards the Crystal Tree House.
The commander pegasus wheeled around to the other guards.
"Star! Patrol! You two take the south side of the street. Bumblebee and Copper take the north! Get these civilians back and protect them. It's blue now, but the princess should be her soon. I'll protect the human!"
Jessie tried to call out to them. "Wait! It's not going to—"
The pegasus commander touched down, imposing his armoured body between Jessie and the Once White But Now Blue Hoist of Doom.
"Ma'am! It's going to be OK! I'm here to help you. Follow me and I will protect you!"
He spread his wing and gently, but irresistibly began to herd her away. Sure these little ponies barely reached past her navel, but she had seen them pull houses. Her few dozen kilos would hardly be noticed.
"Ma'am please don't panic. We need to move you to a safe place. I will guard your back, don't you worry—"
*whummmmm*
A glowing, shimmering magenta dome suddenly materialized around the hoist. Princess Twilight had arrived.
She may have been sporting a rubber duckie in her mane and trailing a stream of bubbles from her abbreviated morning bubble bath, but one look at the streams of fiery mana arcing off her body and her ferocious glare showed this was no laughing matter. Her little ponies were threatened. No matter how hard it tried to hide the fact it was white yesterday by being blue today, she would find it and destroy it.
*crack*
The magic dome disappeared in an actinic flash along with the Hills Hoist. And a sizeable chunk of Jessie's front lawn to boot. All that remained was a hemispherical depression of glowing vitrified glass, softly pinging and cracking as it cooled in the morning air.
All the ponies up and down the street gave a cheer! Their princess saved them!
Jessie gave a groan. She was never going to be able to complete her laundry.
FoME's The Rainbow and the Rock (ChudoJogurt's "Plomo o Plata")
Twilight beamed as the two students of the Sun walked to the rearing horse statue. "Well?"
Sunset raised an eyebrow. "Well what?"
"You were part of the harmony this time. Upper and lower case. We literally couldn't have done it without you." Twilight tried to look sly, which came off like a six-year-old innocently asking how all the cookies had disappeared. "Did it change your mind any?"
"Twilight..." Sunset shook her head, but couldn't help but smile. "Never lose that optimism."
"Oh, come on!" Twilight cried, throwing her arms into the air. "Twice now, I've come to this world and overthrown a dark threat through friendship and harmony. No off—"
"Don't you even start."
After clearing her throat, Twilight continued. "Surely that makes you at least consider your philosophy may be flawed? Your attitude towards humans? And your principles in general?"
That got another shake of the head. "You're a pony, Twilight. You're a better pony than I've ever been, good enough that you can force pony solutions on nonpony problems and make them work anyway. And yes, the power of Harmony was exhilarating." Sunset smiled, bringing a hand to where familiar ears had sprouted the night before. "Having magic again was incredible." Hand and expression both fell. "But one musical number does not erase a lifetime of the dark deeds I've done for my Princess."
"But—"
"Your methods work, Twilight. I can't deny that. After last night, neither can the sirens. But mine do too." Sunset shrugged. "But hey, if we ever have a magical disaster and I can't get in touch with you, who knows? I may try it your way."
Twilight hazarded an uneasy smile. "Well—"
"But only after trying it mine."
After a few moments, Twilight sighed and said. "You know what? I'll take what I can get."
Sunset grinned and clapped her on the shoulder. "You're sounding more like the Princess every day."
A few days later, after being cleared of her own accessory charges, Starlight was able to get into the Canterlot Moderate Security Penitentiary ("Nine out of ten renegade Gifted School students can't tell the difference!") Two Royal Guards still escorted her to the visiting room, but that was another matter.
"Finally!" Trixie yelled, to the phone, glaring at Starlight through the reinforced glass from the moment she sat down. "Did you get Twilight to give Trixie the Royal Pardon?! "
"Um..." Starlight cleared her throat, tugging at the cord of the phone with her telekinesis and looking everywhere but at Trixie. "Sort of."
Trixie arched her eyebrow. "... Meaning?"
"Well... she'll pardon you... on a condition that you'll become her new student for a year." Starlight cleared her throat and made an attempt at a smile. "You know, so she can, um... reform you?"
Judging by the growing frown, Trixie wasn't impressed by the offer. "Aha... Trixie can see it now:" She spread her free hoof, having to actually hold the earpiece with a foreleg given the ring around her horn. "'Do her friendship lessons or go to jail!' Then it will be 'Stop referring to yourself in the third person or go to jail!' 'Stop using illegal firecrackers in your shows or go to jail!' You know what?!" Trixie frowned and stood up. "The Great and Powerful Trixie thinks she would rather stay in jail right now and get this over with!" She slammed the phone down, but when she waved her hoof, she still shouted loudly enough for Starlight to hear her. "Guard!"
Seeing her friend disappearing behind bars, Starlight facepalmed. Darn it... Now, I owe Twilight five bits.
Cerulean Blue's Look Upon Our Works (Georg's "The Maretian Chronicles")
Apple Star gazed out into the concrete jungle, jagged fingers of alien stone and steel reaching for the overcast sky. The ruined buildings were alien in both construction and shape; the materials were made in ways lost as soon as the humans left, and the shapes were all wrong; too large, too tall, no connection to nature. She'd been told by her elders that the buildings had looked majestic and stately when the ponies had returned, but that had been in her grand-grandmama's time. Now they were just ruins, time and Equestria not liking the intruders, all shattered and listless, green overgrowth eating away day after day, year after year.
Apple often wondered where the humans had gone and why; she was glad that ponies had then been able to come back, but she wanted to see these beings that had changed the very course of her world.
"Hey Apple, whatcha wondering about?"
Apple startled and turned towards the voice, ready to run. It was only when her friend Mossy floated down with her small wings working overtime to keep her balanced that she relaxed. "Just, ya know, thinking about the humans, where they went and why."
Mossy landed and and looked around, looking confused. "My mum says good riddance that they're gone, cos it meant we could come back".
Apple sighed, "Yeah, I guess so".
Mossy perked up, "Wanna go see if park has anything good to eat this time?"
Apple thought about it a little, then her tummy rumbled and she smiled. "Yup, race you there!"
SIGAWESOME's I am Digging a Hole in the Bathroom (Raleigh's "The Blueblood Papers: Bound By Blood")
I am digging a hole in the bathroom To affect my escape and be free The changelings are all looking shifty-eyed I fear they'll soon replace me with me
It's been going so far by the numbers Just how OCS trained us to do But what happens once we have breached these walls? We'll come to that part in "stage two"
I am digging a hole in the bathroom. And Blueblood is useless of course I dig and I carve all by myself While he bucks away at a whorse
I think tunnelling out'll be easy The changelings leave us unsupervised They try to tempt me with big, burly hunks But I see right through all of their lies
So I'm digging a hole in the bathroom I expect I shan't finish soon The floor's made of reinforced concrete And I've only a very small spoon
FoME's Dream Analysis (Lil Penpusher's "The Nightmare's Nightmare")
“We’re literally the same person," reasoned Twilight. She found herself pacing in front of the shower, a hand on her chin. "This is like being embarrassed by your reflection looking at you.”
Midnight didn't seem nearly as intrigued, one eye twitching as her spellfire spectacles kept sputtering under the shower's continued spray. “We’re clearly distinct enough to have different opinions on the matter. Now can I please have some time to myself?" She ground her teeth as she considered the sheet of plastic in her grip, wrapping her raven wings around her behind it. "And maybe a new shower curtain?”
Twilight shrugged. “You're the one who tore it off the railing."
"After you came into my bathroom without knocking!"
"Wanton destruction has consequences, Midnight."
A fresh gout of steam puffed off of Midnight's forehead as she snarled. "So does invasion of privacy!"
Twilight crossed her arms. "Does that mean I can get some in my other dreams?”
That got the eye twitch started again. “Are you seriously playing that card right now?”
“You have to admit, it is a little hypocritical.”
Midnight rolled her eyes. “I’m you without restraint or inhibition. I think I’m entitled to one or two hypocrisies.”
Twilight couldn't hold back a smirk. “Well, clearly some inhibitions.”
Her counterpart's gnarled horn lit up, and Twilight found herself getting bombarded by every bottle of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash that Rarity had ever given her. “Get out of my bathroom!”
The door to the School of Friendship's counselor office fairly exploded off the hinges as Princess Luna strode in, her lips drawn into thin lines and a certain dangerous fire flashing in her eyes. "CRIMINAL!" she bellowed, pointing at Trixie.
The Great and Powerful Trixie froze in place, eventually managing to say in her defense, "I'm sorry, you're going to have to be more specific."
"We have evidence of criminal activity taking place in this very room!" thundered Luna. Her magic flared to life and a bag of miniature marshmallows floated out from Trixie's desk drawer, bursting in to immediate flame and burning to ash in moments. "EVIDENCE!" she exclaimed.
"My marshmallows!" cried Trixie. "What am I supposed to put in my Empathy Cocoa now with—"
"Adulteress!" shouted Luna and picked up the guidance counselor in her magic. "You admit to corrupting the youth of this fine educational institution with your immoral actions! It's the dungeons for you, and not the one that Princess Cadence didst make with the padded hoofcuffs. The real dungeons with actual locking doors and gruel for meals! And no cocoa for you to corrupt!"
"But—" managed Trixie before Princess Luna swept her out of the room and into the sky on her way back to Canterlot.
A number of students watched them depart, although Gallus only managed to reach them when the target of their observation was two small dots in the sky, one complaining.
"What's going on?" asked Gallus. "I heard the commotion. Everybody in the school heard it."
"Oh, Trixie got arrested again," said Silverstream, sipping on her cup of cocoa like the rest of the group. "I don't think Princess Luna liked her putting marshmallows into her cocoa."
"Really?" Gallus perked up. "Cool. Now I gotta try it. I'll be right back with the marshmallows."
a·dul·ter·y əˈdəlt(ə)rē noun noun: adultery; plural noun: adulteries The act of rendering (something) poorer in quality by adding another substance, typically an inferior one.
EileenSaysHi's White Aster (The Sleepless Beholder's "Do You Remember?")
In the midst of a barren battlefield, a flower grows.
All around it, the world changed. A landscape razed. A sky ignited with flame, darkened by smoke. A memory of the world that once was, extinguished.
Before its petals, two lovers met their fate.
The war is long over. Those who survived are left to mourn, to reflect, to memorialize. The battlefield has become a site of pilgrimage, a tribute to those so senselessly lost.
And in the midst of it all, a flower still grows.
But it is no longer alone.
The white aster, whose roots lie where the ground absorbed the blood of the unicorn and her wife, is now the center of a small, ever-expanding garden. New flowers of all kinds sprout there, in rain or shine, in frost or heat. An oasis in a bleak land.
A memory of the world that once was, preserved.
Georg's Stamp of Disapproval (Inky Scrolls's "Be Frank With Me, Luna")
In order to meet recent unexpected bills, I have taken a part-time job as a postmare in Ponyville. It really is a wonderful job and I can't believe I didn't try it before. I get to meet almost every pony in town with a smile and their daily collection of letters, even if they are mostly bills and junk mail, some of which is postage due.
One particularly good part of the job is the competition for new stamp design, open to postal employees only. To my surprise, I won this year's contest and it had nothing to do with the Elements of Harmony judging the entries at all. I thought they might be a little upset at my surprise bill too, but they put it all behind them, and in any event the new stamp was released today and I used one of them for this letter. I know how you always were critical about the photographers and portrait painters not capturing your right side, and I think my entry truly captured your essence with some of that 'thinking outside the box' that you encouraged in my long years of training that I spent without ever once being told you had a sister. I think this stamp will really let the ponies of Equestria and beyond (since it is an airmail stamp) know a facet of our leader that only really close friendship reveals, and that they will think of that aspect every time they lick a stamp for a letter. After all, I don't think capturing your right side was really the correct goal, and I think this stamp actually shows the right end.
This was a screwup I'm making a note here- big mistake Why did I think I could be the ruler My little ponies Are so very hungry, also tired Everybody's sick to death of fresh mushroom soup
But a queen can't admit when she got it wrong So I'll keep pretending I was right all along Just fake it all while I flash a huge smile That scares ponies who are still alive
I'm doing a queen's work Keeping my ponies safe and sound (Why isn't there a monster when you need one??) So why can't my ponies Figure out farming- that's their job Why can't they find a crop or three that grows by moonlight
But I won't be discouraged by their ingratitude Though the looks that I'm getting are a little bit rude Why can't they see I'm right about my eternal night My ponies who are still alive
Who am I kidding I've made a huge mess- bucked it up Now they've started talking cannibalism I sent a memo "No pony meat, please- it tastes bad." (Faust I hope nobody asks how I found that out)
Being absolute ruler isn't one bit of fun If this keeps up I'll have to bring back the sun And my sister will go, "Lulu I told you so," In front of the ponies that are still alive
But at least they are all still alive I managed to keep them all still alive I mean, even Granny Smith hasn't died (Send a guard to check that she's still alive) (Still alive? Still alive)
EileenSaysHi's Hypotenuse (Avery Day's "Can You See What I See?")
Sunny was out cold. The seatbelt was keeping her propped up, but her head had lolled to the side, and she was snoring softly.
I kept a tight hold on her hand.
Poor Sunny. Poor, poor Sunny. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so willing to blame themselves for anything and everything, and I own a mirror.
Why can’t she see…
A bump in the road jolted my eyes to the front of the car. I was in the left passenger seat, behind Rarity. She muttered a soft curse at the state of Canterlot roads before she came to a gentle halt at a stoplight.
A thought occurred, and before I could even process what it was, I’d started talking. “Rarity?"
“Yes, darling?”
“I can’t thank you enough.”
Rarity scoffed. “What were you expecting me to do, leave you out in the cold?”
“Not just that,” I clarified. “For… for everything. For everything you did to help us.”
“It was nothing, honestly.”
I flinched. “No, it wasn’t. It was the literal opposite of that. It…” I trailed off. Rarity had already dropped off Rainbow at her house, so it was just the three of us in the car, but it still felt uncomfortable to say. “Sunset told me what happened.”
The car was silent for an interminably long moment.
“Oh,” came Rarity’s soft, downbeat reply.
I could feel tears well up in my eyes, tears I’d forced down all through Sunset’s panicked admissions and self-recriminations because I’d had to stay strong for her, before four little words finally opened the reservoir: “Rarity, I’m so sorry.”
And I meant it, from the bottom of my heart, envisioning the pain she must have felt, watching the girl she loved with another, knowing she could have stopped it at any point.
As I could feel liquid streaming down my cheeks, I could hear Rarity speak as the car began to move again. “Please, Twilight, don’t be. Just don’t. I… I mean it, when I say I’m happy for you two. So, so happy, and I don’t think I could have done this if it wouldn’t make me happy to see the two of you together. Maybe it’s in my nature, but… whatever hurt I have from this right now is nothing compared to the joy of knowing I did the right thing for you both.”
I couldn’t manage a reply beyond a hiccup as my eyes continued to water.
“And Twilight… I didn’t do all this just for Sunset’s sake. You’re my friend, too. Even if I wasn’t consulting with you, and I do so regret my ignorance of what was going on with your… relationship,” she said, with an intensely bitter taste apparent in the latter word, “I knew you needed her as much as she needed you. You deserve happiness. You both do.”
If we hadn’t been in a moving vehicle that Rarity was driving, I’d probably have hugged her so tight her eyes would’ve popped out. Instead I could only stammer out a half-phrase. “T-thank…”
“You’re quite welcome. Just promise not to worry about me, okay? Like Sunset told me… there’s a girl out there for me, too.”
I nodded, looking in the rearview mirror to make sure she noticed. Her eyes made it clear she had. Wiping my own, I turned my head to the sleeping girl beside me.
My girlfriend.
Gosh.
FoME's Fade to Black (DannyJ's "Famous Last Words")
Juniper Montage looked up from the script to the arguably worse sight of an anticipatory Princess Twilight. She'd seen that same expression on dozens of prospective screenwriters trying to get their hooves in the door at Zoom Studios. Heck, she'd worn it herself once or twice while trying to get Uncle Canter to greenlight some of her earliest projects. But that look of naive optimism, of hoping against hope felt wrong on the ruler of Equestria. Especially given what Juniper thought of the script.
She cleared her throat. "Princess, be honest with me. Is this a cry for help?"
The princess flinched back as though struck. "What?"
"You just handed me a script that portrays the destruction of everything you worked to build and the grisly deaths of everypony you love, plus a few extras on the side." Juniper flipped to the last page. "The last scene is a black screen with a vague, ominous voiceover attributed to something called 'The Last.' If it weren't written in the right format, I'd have thought you gave me some worst-case scenario national defense documents by mistake."
"Ah." Princess Twilight cleared her throat. "So you have some notes?"
"I have concerns. About you." Juniper sighed and shook her head. "Not that I'm equipped to handle any of them. The film might sell with a donkey audience, Your Highness, but even they may find it too depressing. Seriously, Princess Twilight, are you okay?"
The princess nodded and rose from her seat, taking the script out of Juniper's grip, magically incinerating it, and whisking the ashes off to wherever princesses sent their garbage. "I'll be fine, Ms. Montage. I'll just have to go to Plan B."
Much of Juniper didn't want to know. The part that was still a six-year-old filly on the edge of her seat at her first monster movie blurted out, "Plan B for what?"
Princess Twilight shrugged her wings. "Once I think of it, you'll find out."
In another context, hearing that from a girl in a leather jacket might be terrifying. In this case, Twilight just turned from her locker and smiled. “Yes, Sunset?”
“Had a question about this. Call it professional interest.” Sunset held out her phone, open to her texts.
Your geode’s power is now 180 Please log your current action for analysis
Twilight furrowed her brow as she tried to find the issue. “The test message from the geode scanner? I thought I told you about that.”
“You did, but a hundred eighty what?”
That got an owlish blink as Twilight turned her attention back to Sunset. “What?”
“Units, Twilight.” Sunset spared one last frown at her phone before putting it back in a jacket pocket. “A bare number doesn’t tell me much, and I don’t think you’re using thaums.”
“Thaums being?”
“One is the amount of magic needed to exert a telekinetic force that can lift one hoofweight one ponylength in one second.” Sunset rattled that off at a familiar, rapid cadence that spoke of memorizing it years ago.
“Ah. A fair assumption.” Twilight looked away as she thought about the kludge behind the numbers. “I admit, I took the High Farrier route and just used previous data to set a baseline.”
“What previous data?”
“The spectrocapacitor I had at the Friendship Games saved its readings to the cloud. Up until Midnight Sparkle, anyway.” Twilight cleared her throat, staring at her shoes. “Turns out getting consumed by my own unfettered curiosity didn’t do any favors to the wireless connection.”
A hand on her shoulder got her to look back up to Sunset’s understanding smile. “Yeah, my phone was fried after the Fall Formal.”
They both just grinned for a moment, ignoring any demonic cackling in the backs of their heads. “Anyway, I used the energy readings from the others—I didn’t know enough to know how to separate the portal’s energy from yours—averaged them out, and used that as one hundred.” Twilight shrugged. “Not terribly scientific, but we’re on the frontier here.”
“Good enough for me. One hundred eighty Sparkles it is.”
After a few Rarity-like sputters, Twilight got out, “I-I mean, I was just thinking of them as arbitrary magic units. Sure, I’ve always wanted a unit named after me, but this felt a little self-congratulatory.”
Sunset smirked. “You’re not just getting useful data about energy that shouldn’t exist in this world, you’re doing better than the mare who majored in it. I’d say you’ve earned it.”
“That’s… nice of you to say.” Going by how her face was heating up, Twilight wasn’t many more bits of praise away from bursting into flames.
“I mean it.” Sunset shrugged. “But hey, if you’re worried about them falling out of use when something better comes along, we can call them Shimmers.”
Twilight just stared at her, mood thoroughly killed.
After a moment, Sunset cleared her throat and looked away. “Or not. AMUs work.”
“This is far from the first time you’ve made that kind of self-deprecating joke,” said Twilight. “I know I’m not anyone’s first choice for this kind of conversation, but… do you want to talk about your feelings regarding my counterpart?”
“Um… Well…” Sunset backed away a step, eyes darting about the hallway. "Hey, look at my wrist! Good talk!” She didn’t quite run away, but she certainly walked with considerable vigor.
Twilight sighed. “Right, going to bump that one up the priority queue…”
There was only one way out of the room, and it fairly glowed with a two-tone magical aura, a pleasing mix of pale blue and light violet, which was one of the benefits of having an alicorn princess as a very close friend. It also helped that Twilight Sparkle had been on the receiving end of Rainbow's "Wit" several times, and required very little convincing to turn the tables in the other direction for a change. The room was also quite small and mostly concrete, which was a natural consequence of living close to the Everfree Forest and having certain pragmatic individuals who very much preferred to have a place to run into when something oozed or stomped out of the lush green trees and onto the rural streets. As a matter of coincidence, the pragmatic individual this room belonged to also had felt the sharp sting of Rainbow's pranking and required no convincing at all to loan their storm shelter for this purpose, only asking that their name not be mentioned and perhaps a few moments to get a camera ready for the eventual emergence of the metaphorical butterfly from its itchy chrysalis.
"Rarity," cautioned Rainbow Dash, who had backed herself into a corner as if the...striking color scheme she sported could have been hidden in anything other than an ongoing paint store explosion. "I changed my mind. The itching is fine. You don't want to do this." Magenta eyes flickered from the steaming tub in the middle of the floor to the various bottles of chemicals scattered around it, some of which were lightly fuming. Then she looked back at Rarity, or at least who had to be the Bearer of Generosity disguised in a Hoove-Mat Model 746 Extra-Heavy-Duty suit which had been tastefully taken in and let out in places to avoid unsightly wrinkles, but still left the mirror-like faceplate in place. There were two huge frightened eyes reflected in that blank silver expanse, and they grew as the creature approached and spoke in a near mechanical monotone through the filters.
"Why, Rainbow Dash. You could not be more mistaken. You wanted this. You asked for this. You signed the contract that Twilight Sparkle wrote up for you. You said anything would be better than what you were going through."
"Eeep." Even backed into a corner and gnawing at a fetlock that had just begun itching so hard that raw terror could not block it, Rainbow Dash managed, "You're my friend, Rarity!" Then in a much smaller voice, "You're not going to kill me, are you?"
"Kill you? Of course not." The featureless figure took a step back and held one suit-clad hoof across her chest in a pose of pure indignation. "I expect you to dye!"
The three assistants had been able to conjure the miraculous Fire of Friendship, but while they'd thawed the ice of hatred between them, the actual ice needed more time. Thus, they shared stories, both the tales of their homes and those of their journeys.
"As we were leaving, an oracle told us we wouldn't find a new home until we were so hungry, we'd eat our tables," Pansy said when her turn came again.
"My master always told me pegasus oracles just flew up until they started seeing things from thin air." Clover held up a hoof to forestall any objections. "Mind you, he didn't have anything better to say about unicorn diviners. Star Swirl believed that the only way to see the future was to go there yourself."
Smart Cookie nodded. "I see who taught you how to be sensible."
That got a lopsided grin. "He'd either be flattered or insulted if he heard that, and I'm not sure which." Clover looked around the cave and sighed. "Any minute now, sir."
The others laughed at that, and Clover joined in after a moment of uncertainty. Another drop of icemelt fell to the cave floor. "So what do you think the oracle meant by that?" Cookie asked Pansy.
She shrugged her wings. "Ours is not to interpret the will of the gods. Especially when all of our tables are made of clouds. We'd end up drinking them instead." Her stomach growled, almost as loud as the windigoes. "Not that I'd mind at this point."
"Well, closest I've got is some trailbread." Cookie rooted through his rucksack and pulled out something almost but not entirely unlike his namesake. It seemed closer to a brick in color, shape, and density. "Between that and a table, I'd take the table, but it's technically edible. Don't suppose either of you has anything better?"
Both shook their heads. Cookie sighed, stomped the trailbread into three pieces ("A little grit might as well be seasoning with this") and the long night carried on, songs and stories briefly interrupted by contemplative chewing.
FoME and Raugos's Magnetically Repulsive (Raugos's "Iron Dust")
The Council of Friendship meetings were how Twilight and her dearest friends made sure they stayed in touch, but those weren't the only times she saw them. She tried to visit Ponyville whenever she could, which wasn't as often as she liked. They in turn made a point of saying hello whenever they where in Canterlot. Only on rare occasion did she issue an official summons for a friend.
Shining Armor sending her a mugshot for a familiar face constituted such an occasion.
Rainbow Dash considered the photo, the arrest warrant, and the eye-catching newspaper clipping. ”'Plainly Potty Pegasus Performs Preposterous Polar Pyrotechnics.'" She nodded to herself and did the last thing Twilight expected, even after years of knowing her.
She grinned. "Good for her.”
Twilight flinched back on her throne. “Rainbow, that’s awful!”
“Come on, this is Lightning Dust we’re talking about." Dash smacked the newspaper with the wing that wasn't holding it. "That minotaur's the only reason she hasn’t actually killed herself during one of these stunts. She’s living her best life and doing it in a way that nopony will be stupid enough to treat her as a role model.”
That got a frown. “I can’t help but feel like you’re underestimating equine stupidity.”
Dash shook her head. “Nah, next press conference I do, I just gotta say..." Dash rose to attention, staring past imaginary press ponies into the middle distance, and in an uncomfortably familiar lecturing tone, said, "that she, a trained if reckless professional, avoided the following horrible injuries that she and anypony attempting the same routine could have done to themselves." She relaxed and beamed. "I even commissioned some artists’ renditions of the nastier ones!”
“That’s also awful,” Twilight deadpanned.
“And it keeps ponies safe." As a testament to her hard-won maturity, Dash maintained the more serious expression for almost ten seconds before smirking. "Plus, I’m gonna sign ‘em and send ‘em to Dusty. Just to show I care.”
Princesses didn't snort. The guards were trained well enough to support that. “You are a strange mare, Rainbow Dash.”
Dash grinned. “Wouldn’t have gotten as far as I have if I weren’t a little crazy. Just like you.”
Twilight gave a lopsided smile of her own. “I really wish I could dispute that.”
(Raugos)
Lightning Dust took one look at the lavishly horrific drawings and pumped a forehoof. "Aww yeah! She's totally mad. She just can't take it, haha!"
"Iron Will is not sure," said Iron Will, rubbing his chin. "She never says anything bad about you in press conferences."
"Her friend is the Princess of Friendship, so she can't. She has to resort to sending me thinly-disguised death threats while pretending to be the bigger mare." Lightning laughed so hard, she ended up lying on her back, legs wheeling in the air. "She's coping so hard, it's hilarious!"
The next customer stepped into Button's office. For a few uncomfortable seconds, they just stared at each other.
Finally, Button sighed and asked, "Zorp yourself?"
Wallflower flushed and nodded, hands worrying at the Memory Stone like it was a petrified stress doll.
The necessary SQL query was routine enough that he'd bookmarked a script to run it. "I have a standard package ready for you. I don't know how to work that thing, but apparently it's enough for you."
The girl shrank into the folding chair. "This has happened before?"
"You've been careful to leave backups for yourself." Button gave her a hard look that might have been more intimidating if he could ever bring himself to lose the propeller beanie. "As have I, so don't get any bright ideas about wiping my memories to get out of paying."
She gave a sheepish nod and dug into her pockets. "How much?"
"Twenty bucks."
Wallflower blinked. "That's it?"
Button shrugged. "Hey, you're the one keeping me in business."
"Forgot my favorite quill," Sparkle said on the front step.
Twenty minutes after that
"Can't be a studious student without my thesaurus with all my notes in the margins."
One hour more
"Just need my bunny-hoofy slippers." Sparkle looked longingly at the foyer's carpet. "The floors in the castle are cold."
And yet another hour later
"Just need to pick up my compass and my drawing pencils and that should be it. Thanks, Mom."
"Uh, what about Spike?" Twilight Velvet looked at the closed door where her daughter had been moments ago.
"Don't worry, Sweeetpea. I give her about two more visits before she remembers he was napping when Princess Celestia visited." Night Light boosted the baby dragon up on his shoulder and patted him on the back. "Besides, it may be a decade or more before we have grandfoals of our own. Might as well spoil him while we have him." He beamed at the hatchling. "Does ums want another emerald? Yes, you do. Here you go."
(RB_'s supplement)
"Wow, the palace sure is big, isn't it Spike?"
...
"...Spike?"
EileenSaysHi's Personal Log (Dewdrops on the Grass's "Star Trek: Phoenix")
Okay, okay, I got this. I can do this. Should I have written something down? …No, I got this. I know her. I can do this.
Personal log. Stardate 509… um… it really has been a long time since I’ve done one of these, huh.
It doesn’t matter, really. I dunno. All that matters is… it’s not when it should be. I should’ve… I should’ve been here so long ago.
Twilight, I know this must hurt. I know everything must have hurt. I tried imagining it, more than a few times. Thinking of you down there was just… awful. It was awful. Sometimes I worried you were just sick with grief, that maybe it broke your resolve, your spirit. Other times I felt certain you must have moved on, that maybe I’d been so far away so long already that it barely even registered.
But Twi… shit, how do I say this?
I wasn’t naive, about what it was going to be like when I came back after so long. At least, I thought I wasn’t. It’s, well, a question I’d kinda been preparing for already, in some ways, even before what happened. Back then, it wasn’t you and Mother and Mom I was preparing to face again… it was Celestia. It was Equestria.
I didn’t talk much about it with you, because I didn’t want to hurt your optimism. But I’ve never been sure about what it’s gonna be like when we finally find our home. When we see the ponies we knew, so many years later. Princess Celestia, your parents, all the fillies and colts we grew up with that are now grown ponies… especially with the time displacement, for me. What will they think of us? We disappeared. We’re dead. And when we get back… we’ll be ghosts, in a way. And ghosts are scary, unnatural. Out of place, even in their own home.
That’s kinda what I feel like now, Twi. Just this… thing that shouldn’t be here anymore. Like I just hurt everyone more by still being alive. Especially you.
And the more I’m saying out loud right now, the more I realize that I don’t understand how to apologize for that. I’m not saying I shouldn’t. I just don’t know how.
I’m sorry. I thought the words would just spill out. I guess words are spilling out, but, um, they don’t feel like the right ones.
There just wasn’t an easy way for me to come back. Starfleet doesn’t have a resurrection protocol or a guidebook for this. And it’s not like I could just gradually reveal that I was alive, even if I hadn’t been hurtling to Earth in a crashing Dominion ship. There isn’t a gentle way to break that. If there had been, maybe I could have found it. But you of all people deserved the truth. Far more than the Admiral and the disciplinary board.
The only reason I was able to speak as much as I did was just trying to imagine I was telling you, and only you. Not even Mother and Mom; I’d have tried to hide too much of how painful it was, for their sake. But even after all that time, I still felt like I could tell you anything.
Like we were still in this together.
And like I said, I knew this wouldn’t be all smiles, as much as I wanted it to be. But I wanted… I just wanted… I just thought we’d be able to work through it as sist—
Sorry, I’ve got something in my eye.
Oh gosh, where was I… ugh. I don’t know. I just don’t know how to get through this wall between us. I don’t want to just pick up where we left off, because I know that’s not possible. Hell, it wouldn’t have been possible even if I never disappeared. But you’re my sister. You mean the world to me. You mean all the worlds to me.
I know this was a setback. Regardless of why it happened, it hurt you, and I can’t make up for it. But I still want us to keep going. I desperately want that. In some ways, getting these wings makes me feel like we’re closer, so much closer to finding Equus. Like maybe there’s new signatures or traces in my magic that could help with searching, or maybe there’s some kind of link now between the Princess and I that I haven’t had the chance to discover.
And that’s without getting into Starfleet. Twi, there’s a mission opportunity that I’ve been offered. It does feel weirdly soon for me to be getting it, but, well, it’s big. Really big. And I want you to be involved. I won’t do it without you. I need you on this. Especially with war potentially on the horizon, this could be our only shot to keep focused on exploring. Searching. Finding Equestria.
Whatever you think of me right now, I know that still has to matter to you. And what matters to you will always matter to me.
Don’t you get that?
Don’t you understand that?
I just… Twi, I really don’t know how you could think I did this to hurt you. That what I did to save those lives was to hurt you. I know it must have been agony, but it was agony for me too! There were so many nights when I thought I’d never see you again, that it was all for nothing! That I’d lived just to die again on some wasteland of a planet, and you’d never know I tried to find my way home!
And I’m sorry! Please, Twi, I’m so— I’m so… sorry.
Everything I did to get back was for you, and Mother, and Mom. Everything. Every engineering feat. Every scouting trip. Every failed flight as I tried to learn how to search from the air. Every night in winter, every ounce of meat I choked down to survive… for you.
Every moment of pain I endured on the Dominion ship, for you.
And when that Vorta scum talked about how he’d heard of you, and how he wanted to hurt you, to kill you… I killed him for you. I burned the life out of his vile, cruel eyes, I watched him crumble into ash, and I did it with a smile, because He. Threatened. You.
…That probably should have stayed between me and Belle.
The point is, I’m alive, I’m here, and I know I survived for a reason. And I want to believe that reason is you, Twilight. Because what we promised to do so long ago… that’s not over yet. It won’t be over until we find our way back. And even with everything that’s changed about me, I can’t do that alone. I won’t do it alone.
I need my sister by my side.
And saying all this… I know I can never send it to you. I just can’t. This is… chaos, in log form. It’s not an apology. It’s a fiasco. And would probably just make things worse if you did hear it.
Maybe it helped, maybe it didn’t, I don’t know. But once I stop talking, I’m deleting it.
I’ll just have to tell you about that opportunity directly. And maybe that’ll get us talking again. Or something else will.
I really hope that day comes, sis. That I can be your BSBFF again.
Until then… I’ll see you around, I guess.
End log. Delete.
The Iguana Man's Dashing Sincerity (Monochromatic's "The Grand RariShip Council")
Once upon a time, Rarity thought, things were different.
Oh, her smoke alarm would still be shrieking, smoke would still be wafting out of her kitchen windows, and a carbonized stench not unlike Spike with an upset stomach would still fill the air, but at least she wouldn't be married to the one responsible.
Rainbow Dash, still in midair and flapping to ventilate the room, gave a smile marred by uncertainty and the soot in her coat. "Er, okay, Bae, I know you're probably pretty mad at me right now."
Rarity felt an eyelid twitch hard enough to shift her false lashes. "Oh, the only things 'pretty' here are the usual - I am exceptionally angry with you. Yo—"
Rainbow held up her hooves. "I know, I know, I'm kinda banned from the kitchen after the cream brolly incident..."
"For the hundredth time, it's crème brûlée, and furthermore, there's nothing 'kinda' about it. You are expressly banned due to—"
"The fact I always screw up in here, I know. It's just..." Rainbow sighed and looked to the table, where two plates sat amid the stains and one still-smoldering patch of tablecloth. "This is something I know I can make." She gave a hapless laugh. "Pretty much the only thing I can."
Rarity blinked and turned to the meal. Now that most of the smoke had been blown out, she had to admit, there was a more appetizing aroma underneath. "Oh?"
"Yeah, toasted haybacon-and-egg sandwiches - easy. Or, they should be..." Dash grimaced as she took in the state of the rest of the kitchen. "But I didn't know where everything was cause I'm not allowed in here and I left it too long and... yeah."
Rarity granted Rainbow a single, slow nod. "Alright, not the most sophisticated fare, and I can see how you might have intended things, but I'm still not clear on exactly why."
"Well, I wanted to do something nice for you after I..." Rainbow's face twisted into the familiar grimace she wore when forced to recognize her imperfections. "You know, called all those other Rarities lame for dating other ponies."
"Really not helping your case, dearie," Rarity said flatly.
"I know, that was so not cool of me... even if you are the awesomest Rarity by, like, twenty billion percent." Rainbow's wide grin held up for all of two seconds before falling flat. "But, anyway, I wanted to make up for that."
"With toasted sandwiches? I can think of other ways to apologize..." Rarity leaned in close. The sandwiches looked harmless enough, though she wasn't entirely sure about how that cheese was bubbling. "Ways that don't involve defying both household and, if that legislation passes, national law."
"Yeah, I guess, it's just..."
Rarity turned back. Whatever expression she'd expected, Rainbow blushing like the night they'd confessed wasn't it. "It's just what?"
"It's just this meal's kinda... special to me, you know. Reason I know how to do it's cause my parents'd always make it for me whenever I was down and I just..." Rainbow sighed, landed, and began to trudge towards the Boutique's entrance. "I just wanted to share it with you. It was dumb, I'm sorry."
Rarity watched her go for a few beats, neither of them saying anything. The smoke alarm finally settled down, leaving a ringing silence in its wake.
And then Rarity charged across the shop floor to grab her fillyfriend in a tight embrace. "Sun-dammit! One day, Rainbow... One day, I swear on my life, I will find it within myself to stay mad at you. But it seems today is not that day!"
Rainbow, for her part, looked like she'd gotten blindsided by a fully laden cart. "Huh?"
"Oh, you're still going to have this clean and restored by the time I get back from the meeting if you don't want to be on the couch until the next one." Rarity's scowl softened to a half-lidded smirk. "Buuuut if you do manage it... well, let's just say still sleeping in our bed may have some... extra perks."
It took a moment for Rainbow to process that. Enough that Rarity let her go and took a few steps back. But sure enough, she sprang back up, snapped off a salute, and barked out, "Yes, Ma'am! On it, Ma'am! Kitchen will be clean, repaired and unused, Ma'am!"
Rarity nodded. "That's my filly. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some alter egos to vent to."
FoME's The Buddhist Says "Mu" (GravityDefyingCoffeMug's "Buh")
Zipp frowned as she flipped through what few documents had survived the old lighthouse’s destruction. Part of it was simple curiosity about the world outside of Zephyr Heights, part to get any further data on Twilight Sparkle and the mysterious threat her message had warned them about. This latest discovery might provide answers there, but she'd need to consult the expert to have any hope of knowing.
"Hey Sunny?"
"Yeah?" said the earth mare, whose own research efforts had mostly consisted of staring at the materials and sighing at how much had been lost.
Zipp held up a royal decree. She didn't know who most of the ponies involved were, but she could read the signature at the bottom, along with the cryptic addition in the same hoofwriting. (Hornwriting?) “What does ‘buh’ mean?”
"Oh!" If nothing else, that got Sunny out of her fugue. “Dad never pinned that down. He suspected that was the point. Princess Twilight didn’t want ponies to blindly turn to her for all the answers, so she’d put a meaningless non-answer on the requests that didn’t need to be escalated all the way to the throne. Can you get my neighbors to stop being noisy? Buh. Can you issue a royal order to reserve this dress for me? Buh." Sunny nodded. "It was all very philosophical.”
“Huh.” Zipp looked at the decree with newfound respect. "I'll have to remember that one."
FoME's Herculean Effort (applezombi's "Rich in Flowers, Unlucky in Love")
Flash Magnus blinked, took a long draught of cider, and ran the story back through his head. “She got you to actually court somepony?”
Stygian sighed and thanked whatever was listening that they weren't in public. The Pillar of Bravery never feared making an ass of himself. “I was doing rather well on my own, but yes. Ms. Roseluck did push us both along the path faster than we might have walked it ourselves.”
Flash turned to Rockhoof. “Think we have room for another pony in the Pillars? That’s got to qualify as a deed worthy of song.”
The massive stallion nodded. “The skalds’ve done more with less.”
“I’m right here. I can hear every word you’re saying.” It wouldn't be so bad if Stygian hadn't had to remind his companions of that more than once over the course of their adventures.
“We’re not besmirchin’ the lass’s honor, lad, and we’re both happy for the both o' ye." said Rockhoof, saluting Stygian with his own tankard. "It’s just a bit of a shock.”
Krack-Fic Kai's Deepening Darkness (FoME's "One of Our Twilights is Missing")
Sunset leaned forwards. "Say no more, Ma'am. I will ferret out their weaknesses and pit them against each other, until their spirits are so crushed that they won't even be able to enter the mathematical Olympiad."
Luna looked at her student.
Sunset noted the silence. She'd heard similar silences before and they meant she'd missed something. "But I can't do that and look for Twilight at the same time?" She tried.
The silence continued, with an amused tint. Sunset frowned. "So if I don't sabotage the math team, then I can find Twilight before the contest?" She said doubtfully.
"Ah," Luna said. "That sounds most prudent."
"Don't you think it's a little high-risk?" Sunset asked. "How good is the math team apart from Twilight?"
There was a new kind of silence, one made by someone contemplating something they probably shouldn't. "... Committing an act of sabotage would probably be wrong," Luna said. "Ergo, hiding it from my sister would take up too much time for it to be an effective strategy."
ks with the enemy's weather!").