"Second reply to this post gets a story!" An anthology of short fics written in real time, to prompts given by 4chan and other sources.
"Second reply to this post gets a story!" If you were in the MLP General thread on /co/ in 2011, you probably saw a post like this, followed by several crude suggestions. A couple dozen posts later, a three-part real-time fanfiction began, sometimes concluding in the next MLP General thread.
When the fandom first started, fanfics were rare and brilliant, and their authors honored for bringing more pony into existence. I shared in those heady early days, not because I sought honor, but because I wanted to make magic. To my surprise, I often did. I saw authors seeking story prompts or being given them unsolicited. So I tried my hand at it, and found that my imagination was bursting with amazing imagery and joy-filled scenes of friendship that I just had to share.
This is the collection of Duplex Fields' short fanfictions. As I edit my way through my older works, I will update this anthology. Not all of these came from story prompts, and I've lost track of which posts inspired some stories; most will have Author's Notes.
The cave was dark, and it smelled like fish. Rainbow Dash hovered at the entrance. "Hello?"
No answer.
Frowning, she set down on the ledge outside. "Anybody home?" she called, louder this time. There was still no answer.
Her brow creased. Dash was determined to see this through. Her audition had gone swimmingly, but this was her final test, assigned by Spitfire herself. If she flubbed this, there were dozens of other candidates for the Wonderbolts' benchwarmer slot.
Across the threshold carefully. Clip-clop down the passageway. She walked deeper into the cave. The smell got worse. The passageway turned a little bit, and she couldn't see anything.
"I'm not trying to startle anyone," she called softly, then stopped. Was that a glint of light?
Talons grasped her throat.
Dash stopped, cold sweat trickling down between her wings. She felt another clawed hand running across her port wing, claws not tearing, simply making their presence known.
A voice rasped, "What do you want?"
"G-gilda?" whispered Dash, keenly aware of the points of the talons on her windpipe and the hot fish-breath in her face.
"Dash?" said the griffon. The pressure slackened a bit.
Now that her eyes were adjusted, Dash could see the glint of Gilda's eyes in the darkness, and the gleam of her sharp beak. Funny, in all the time they'd been buds, she hadn't once realized how many pointy parts her friend had. "Yeah, it's me."
The talons, though loose, still kept Dash locked in place with their iron strength. "You mind telling me why you're here?"
Dash assumed a nonchalant tone. "I scored front row tickets to the Wonderbolts show in Cloudsdale. I figured I'd say I was sorry, and ekk-"
The talons tightened. Gilda didn't say anything.
Dash felt lightheaded; she kicked at the dirt and flapped her wings; little green spots flashed in the darkness, they were filling her vision. She was a flier; she knew an approaching blackout when she felt it, even in the dark.
Then, the talons released. Dash fell to the ground in a pile of splayed limbs. She gasped for air, and the spots resolved themselves into the darkness of the cave once more. "Just joshing ya, Dash," said Gilda. "I figured you'd apologize sometime, right?"
"Heh, yeah," said Dash, picking herself up. She was still shaking from the adrenaline. "C'mon. The tickets are outside."
She walked back toward the cave entrance, not daring to move faster than she needed to. She couldn't hear anything behind her.
She emerged into bright daylight, and squinted as she turned around. Gilda looked the same as ever, that same cocksure grin on her face. "So, you have tickets out here or somethin'?"
Dash nodded to the rock in front of the cave. "There they are. All yours. I need to clear the air. I can't afford to have you mad at me..."
She struggled for words, then sighed. "I miss racing, and I miss you. But I want you to know that I don't care if you don't like my other friends. You don't have to hang with them if you don't want."
Gilda put her hands up. "Hey, if you want to hang out with dweebs, that's your business. Just do it away from me." She stopped, then squinted at Dash. "This isn't another dumb prank, is it?"
"No, why?"
Gilda knew Rainbow Dash couldn't tell a lie; her voice was just too honest. She was telling the truth. "Just checking. Seeya at the show." She grabbed one ticket and ducked back into the cave.
---
The Cloudiseum glistened in the morning sunlight. It was a perfect day for an airshow.
Spitfire pulled on her mask and goggles. "One thing we can't afford in our line of work is enemies. Unfinished business can kill at any speed. You did good, kid. Real good. Now go sit with your friend. First practice is Sunday afternoon, Canterlot parade grounds."
Far up in the stands, Gilda heard somepony screaming in joy at the top of her lungs. It sounded like Dash, who had gone to get snacks. "Weird," she muttered.
Every Hearth's Warming Eve, Daddy gives me the newest and best presents from the Manehattan store on Tame Square. He says that one day, I'll own his retail empire. He knows that I'll run it as profitably as he does, and another generation of Riches and Diamonds will live in wealth and splendor.
But tonight, I'm looking at the numbers, and they just aren't right. The suppliers are down in Phillydelphia; they say shortages exist where they shouldn't be. I see how the logistics are inefficient.
I think about calling Daddy over, but then I realize something. The competition is doing something wrong. They aren't looking out for their own interests. Some of their money is going to something else.
I have Hornsworth flip through the pages until I find it: charity. Part of their profit is being diverted, their prices are changing because of it, and our prices are changing too, not in the right direction.
It's like an itch inside my head.
---
That itch is back.
I went for a drink of milk. (Clarabelle doesn't like being woken in the middle of the night, but she should have read the contract more carefully.) When I got back to the desk, I had Hornsworth pull the ledger from last year.
I'm good at seeing what makes ponies do things. I push and pull on parts of their realities, like a puppetmistress with a marionette. It's my mark, and it's my true self.
But as I look at the numbers of the corporate charity of our competitor, and the numbers of my father's spending around town, it hits me: my father is increasing the general wealth of Ponyville by spending his personal profits at local businesses, while our competitor is driving both her own prices and our competing prices against the market with her corporation's profits.
And that drives ponies out of business.
And that makes them need charity.
And that drives down real wealth.
And that makes the masses angry.
It's like a fever takes hold of me. Without waiting for Hornsworth, I grab the pencil in my mouth and write furiously. This part of the incentive structure fits there, that part of the logistics makes sense over here...
---
Before I know it, it's sunrise. No, wait, it's Princess Celestia.
Princess Celestia?!?
"Who do we have here?" she says, looking at me with one eyebrow up. The world around us is made of distant floating points, like the night sky but inside an aurora of nebulous sweeping colors, shifting and flowing around us.
I give my best curtsey. "Diamond Dazzle Tiara, Your Highness," I say in that pleasant voice adults like so much. "Where are we?"
"Where isn't as important as how," says the Princess. "Tell me, my little pony, what have you just discovered?"
"Nopony... nobody ever has to go hungry again," I say, a hush in my voice. "Nobody has to starve, and nobody has to be poor. Farmers can live like queens, and dishwashers can live in mansions."
It hurts a bit, the thought that peasants could live in the luxury I thought was my birthright, but it's only a small hurt, and it's quickly gone. The greater joy is seeing the future spread before us in unlimited potential, like Equestria in the eyes of the ancient settlers, or like the lines for the first shopping day after Harvest Fest.
"What happens now, Princess Celestia?" I asked her, bowing again.
"You tell me... Princess Diamond," she says, as a light from inside me lifts me into the air, and my shoulders and forehead grow warm...
Princess Solaria dripped with sweat, panting. Nightmare Moon, the abomination who had chosen dissonance over harmony, was gone.
The sudden silence made the night more terrible. Through the ruined roof of their castle, she could now see a shadow on the full moon, a horned silhouette.
Around her, the bodies - she didn't dare to think of them as corpses, not yet - of her five closest friends lay still, midst the rubble.
Barley Fields, Element of Beneficence. Canary Spinel, Element of Verity. They had been betrothed. The sudden shock of realizing their wedding would never occur struck her like a thunderbolt.
Solaria collapsed, weeping freely. Her hooves made clacking noises on the marble floor as she shook with rage and sadness. Even the Element of Mirth in her heart could not warm her enough to bear what had been done this night.
Minutes passed, and the world remained in twilight as Solaria mourned. She had never felt so alone - she had never been so alone before.
These mortal ponies, they dealt with Death, they passed to the Light Beyond where her Sire welcomed them to everlasting fields. She and her sister always remained here, and prepared them for the glory to come.
But she never thought she would face separation from Princess Selena. She had taken for granted her sister's friendship, put her off one to many times perhaps. Disregarded her needs. Partied in the afternoons, leaving Selena to her lonely nights. And now she was alone.
This friendship thing was wonderful to have, and terrible to lose.
Her sobs shortened, and at long last she rose to her hooves, tears still running down her face. Grim determination animated her limbs as she walked to the South Balcony. There, in the courtyard, stood the populace, looking on in anticipation.
Without a word, she turned to her right and lowered her head. The moon followed suit. The crowd moaned and chattered. What had become of Princess Selena? they asked each other. Why is the moon still up?
Drawing upon her heritage, Princess Solaria flew upward, urging the summer Sun to do the same. Like a faithful pet, it heeded her call.
The cocks crowed. The crowd rejoiced. Solaria smiled, the Element of Mirth once again claiming her heart for a time.
---
She returned to the scene of battle. Her friends lay there, dusty in the morning sunlight. Closing her eyes, she envisioned a memorial, and ignited her horn.
When she opened her eyes, five grey stone spheres were all that remained of her four best friends, and of the laughter that had died in her heart when her sister, bearer of Mysticism, had been corrupted by jealousy.
I crawl through the underbrush, being careful not to make a sound. My prey does not notice me creeping up on-
"Gotcha!" laughs Snails, as he turns around. "I found you, now it's my turn!"
"Aw, c'mon!" I say, smacking the ground with a hoof. "I didn't make any noise! How did you know I was there?"
"I didn't hear any noise," says Snails, "And that's when you always get me."
My eyes cross for half a moment. That actually made sense.
"Aw, I'm bored with this" I say, "Hay, I've got an idea. Let's be supervillains!"
"Supervillains?" asks Snails, scratching his head and looking up. "But we don't have superpowers."
I glare at him. "We're UNICORNS. Of COURSE we have superpowers."
"But my horn only makes glue and light, and burning glue" he says slowly, "and yours only cuts things."
I sigh and roll my eyes. This will be a long day.
---
A cape and mask are all I need. As my lackey, Snails wears an orange jumpsuit and a broken plastic hoofcuff on one wrist. (He just broke out of jail and is really mean.)
We sneak up to the front door of Sugarcube Corner, and burst in. "I am the Black Mask, supervillain extraordinaire!" I shout. Everypony looks at us.
"I think you mean extraordinary?" says Snails.
"HUSH, LACKEY!" I yell at him, then turn back to the astonished adults. "I demand you give me ONE THOUSAND MUFFINS! Or else, Ponyville will rue the day!"
The weird pink mare that owns the alligator grins, and ducks behind the counter. Then she leaps over, dressed in a blue-and-pink superhero costume and stands in front of the customers. "So we meet at last, Black Mask! Prepare to face the might of The Pink Avenger!"
I was not prepared for a superhero to defend a bake shop. "Hah HA! I have figured out your secret identity, Pink Avenger!" I dive under the nearest table, and shout, "RATTATATAT TATATAT!" while miming holding a machine gun.
"Pew! Ping! Pew!" She mimics holding up a shield, and not a shot gets through. "Kazummmmm..." she retorts, powering up some sort of ray.
Snails looks this way and that. I shout, "Get down, you fool!" but it's too late, because she switches her aim to him at the last second-
FLASH! Snails uses his horn for reals! CRASH! The ceiling above her breaks and she is swallowed by a pile of wood and insulation!
I jump out from under the table, tearing off my mask and cape. "Miss!" I shout, as I leap toward the pile of rubble, but the customers are already pulling the debris off of her.
She's dazed, but grinning. "That was fun!" she says, and everyone breathes a sigh of relief. Then they look at Snails and me.
Two stallions stand guard as one of the ladies goes to tell our parents.
This is not good.
---
"But mooooom," I whine, bringing my eyebrows together in what I hope is an expression of supplication.
"You nearly killed that poor mare and almost tore down the building," she says, unmoved.
"But that was Snaaaails," I say, trying to play on her sympathy. "This isn't faaaaair."
"Stop whining, Snips, you are grounded for a month, and that's the end of it!" She puts her hoof down, and I realize that is indeed the end of it. "I don't want you to leave this house except for school and not another word or it'll be two months! And Snails will NOT be coming over at all."
I grumble, and turn around to head to my room. "Yes, mom."
The rest of the day passes slowly, tortorously. I practice some magic tricks, I practice cutting rope and sticks and stone, I practice standing on my front hooves, then my back hooves, then only my right hooves.
Finally, I go back to my comic book.
I have three comic books. Mom says I'm not allowed to have any more. She says three is enough.
I read it aloud, in my best hero and villain voices. "Stop, fiend!" "You'll never catch me!"
The next day at school, Snails is limping. His dad must have really taken him to the woodshed. I don't talk to him until recess.
---
A month later, I'm free. We get together that afternoon after school.
Snails is still upset that his dad burned his Dimetrodon action figure as punishment. "Hey," he says, "Let's play supervillains again. That was fun!"
What can I do? He's my best friend. This time, we'll rob the library, using fake library cards!
"Ow! Watch where yer steppin'!" said Applejack crossly.
Applebloom bit her lower lip. "Sorry, sis!" she said, and looked down to watch her front hooves.
"Ow!" they both said, as their heads knocked together. They each sat back and rubbed their heads. Applejack sighed. "Let's take a break, sugar."
Applebloom, downcast, got up and walked into the kitchen. She got some lemonade, then rubbed her head again.
'Durnit,' she thought, 'Ah gotta learn this so's I can ask Spike to th'Saddle Hawkins dance!'
After a bit of rest, they got back to work. As the afternoon dragged on, Applebloom was beginning to suspect her big sister wasn't as accomplished a ballroom dancer as she thought.
Bedtime came too quickly. Applebloom was exhausted from all the prancing, and fell asleep.
--
Town hall stretched above her, and streamers hung from every wall and joist. It was the Sadie Hawkins dance. There were Silver Spoon and Ruby Tiara, dancing together and laughing. There was Twist, dancing with Spike. He was smiling at her, and she was smiling at him.
Applebloom looked down, and saw that she was wearing a leotard. Her hooves had metal tap shoes and the noise wouldn't stop wouldn't stop--
Applebloom opened her eyes. The moonlight seemed dimmer tonight. She got out of bed, and walked to the window. 'That was a horrible dream,' she thought, then rested her head on her forehooves. Why didn't her four hooves work together?
Winona the dog wagged her tail as Applebloom wandered through the darkened house in her pajamas. "Wanna play, girl?" asked Applebloom quietly. She grabbed a piece of rope in her mouth, and Winona quickly grabbed the other. They tugged, and Winona, as usual, pulled harder. But tonight, Applebloom was smarter; Winona stood on the carpet, and was quickly pulled along by Applebloom, who had made sure to remain on the wooden floor. They ended up going around in circles a few times before Applebloom let the dog win.
She went back upstairs and climbed into her bed, the nightmare's impact forgotten.
Among her many travels in the realms of sleep that night, Dream Pinkie Pie said to her, "It's a language for your hooves, silly." Some time after that, she danced gracefully under a pale white moon, with a handsome purple dragon, until the rooster crowed.
Rainbow Dash put all her frustration into her rear hooves, and obliterated another cloud. She barely paid the air traffic around her any mind, other than not running into anyone else.
Fluttershy could be so aggravating at times. Why couldn't she be less scared, less panicked? Why did every little thing have to be a crisis with her?
No matter how many clouds she kicked, Rainbow just got madder and madder. She'd apologized to Fluttershy a hundred times about knocking her to the ground when they were at Flight Camp, but that girl still had nightmares about falling to her doom. What else could she do?
Rainbow looked around the Ponyville sky, and to her consternation, found she'd kicked every last one of those clouds into oblivion. Great. Now what was she supposed to do about her frustration?
Rainbow Dash heard a gentle cough below her. It was Fluttershy, of course. Rainbow flew down to where she was standing. "What's up, Fluttershy?" Not you, she thought to herself.
"Oh... Rainbow," said Fluttershy hesitantly, "I've been thinking it over," she looked down and her mane hid her eyes, "I've been needing some new medical supplies, and the feedings do get expensive at times, and everyone will be watching the birds anyway, and not me..."
Rainbow desperately wanted to grin, or to blurt out what her friend was going to say, or to do anything but hover there and listen to Fluttershy make an excuse to do something good for herself and her career. But years of friendship made it clear that doing so would make her whisper, "never mind," and slink back to her cottage. So Rainbow bit her lip.
"...So I've decided I'll do it." Fluttershy paused. "I'll have my songbird chorus sing for the Summer Sun Celebration."
Rainbow hid her true reaction, relief, and instead put on as sincere a smile as she could. "I know your birds will do a great job singing. I'm proud of you, Fluttershy."
I know it'll do you some good to get out of the house, she didn't say. I worked my tail off to get you that contract, she didn't say. I'm tired of you being anxious and afraid all the time, and I wish you'd make more friends, she didn't say.
Even though Rainbow Dash said a lot, she didn't say a lot more.
As Derpy extracted herself from the ruins of the cart, she could feel the "F" forming on her lips. It wanted out, it needed out, and by golly, it was coming out. "Fffffudgemuffins!" she swore, kicking a loose tyre, which bounded away.
She could see the gaze of her left eye twitching, and despite not caring much at the moment, she knew she had to get herself reined in, before Dinky's classmates started paying attention to her. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.
Calmed slightly, she watched the young colt hover himself from the wrecks to beside her, body undamaged but spirit bruised. "Crackle Pop, are you okay?" she asked him.
He buried his face in her wing-shoulder, and muffled his sobs.
She walked him quietly to the shade of a nearby tree, and sat down. He sniffled, one big booger string connecting his nose to her wing. "You were great out there," she warbled in her nasal voice, "If those wings hadn't blocked us, we woulda been second place."
Crackle Pop smiled, "You really mean that, miss Derpy?" he asked, wiping his nose with a hoof.
She nodded. "Uh huh. Your mom and dad woulda been real proud."
His face fell again. Oopsie. She put a hoof over her mouth in shock. She hadn't meant to remind the young orphan that they were on a day trip, that he was going back to the group home after the race, and that his parents had died.
She smiled her widest grin, and lifted his chin with a hoof. "They'da been real proud of you, Crackle Pop, because you're a smart colt. Painting the wood to make it look like wood made it really smooth, and made it go really fast 'cause it pushed all the air out of the way. I just wish we could have finished the race."
Just then, Miss Cheerilee announced that the race would be run again.
---
Despite the Cutie Mark Crashers' redesigns, Derpy advised Crackle Pop to use the same set of plans as before. While he worked on the cart itself, she constructed the new undercarriage.
"Hum de dum, ta te tum," she hummed to herself as she worked. Music always made work go easier for ponies, and while the montage music was sung by Rainbow Dash and her friends, she felt it wasn't cheating to leech a bit of their good luck.
Luck, she mused as she hummed. She always got lucky, or unlucky, never normal. It was like her eyes; one saw what she wanted to see, and the other sometimes saw what she needed to see.
She got unlucky when she'd made her first cart when she was a filly, because it wasn't the fastest, but she was lucky it was so bad it was the most creative, and it earned her Cutie Mark because the nails held it together. Holding things together that shouldn't work was her specialty, she supposed, along with her lifelong battle with luck.
She was unlucky when she got fatter and fatter, and lucky when she had Dinky. She was lucky when she got to try for the Best Young Flyer, but unlucky when Rainboom Dash won it. She was unlucky when the super athletic Rainbow and Applejack nearly won the Running of the Leaves, but lucky when they fought near the finish and she ended up winning first place.
She was unlucky when the system thought she was a super-dumb pony and took Dinky away, but she got really lucky when they realized she wasn't and gave her back, and that's how they both met Amethyst Star, who was an orphan who'd never been adopted and just sorta fell into a job at the group home after she got her mark in organizing. That was how Derpy ended up with a new daughter only a year younger than herself, and a new older sister for Dinky. That was how she got involved with day trips from the group home system, and how she had ended up here with Crackle Pop at the derby.
Upon reflection, she'd been really, really lucky to find so much love.
---
As the second race drew nearer, Crackle Pop attached the undercarriage while she watched. It was probably better than the first, truth be told. "You did a really good job, Crackle Pop," she said, "And you did it by being yourself."
He smiled. "Thanks, miss Derpy!" Then, together they pushed the cart to the staging area. With a quick flap, he leaped into the driver's seat and buckled himself into the harness.
Derpy smiled, and took to the air herself, aiming to land in the crowd of parents and uncles and aunts and friends who were ready to watch the race. Unfortunately, she'd forgotten about the snot on her wing. The aerodynamics were off, and she overcompensated, and she landed upside down in the tree behind the other spectators! She tried to untangle herself, from the tree limbs, but got entangled further and ended up dangling over a bare low limb of the tree, face-to-face with an angry momma robin, perfectly visible to the now-staring crowd.
Crackle Pop's jaw dropped.
Cheerilee's voice called out, "Derby racers to the starting line!"
Upside down and eyes askew, Derpy pointed at where he needed to be. "Go! Go! You can do it!"
And as the racers pulled up to the line, as the other grown-ups turned from her spectacle to watch the race begin, she carefully pulled herself down from the tree, avoiding the nest and the angry bird. With a fluffy thump, she arrived on the ground just in time to see the racers take off. "Woohoo, go Crackle Pop!" she cried out, pumping a hoof in the air.
