Dueling Keyboards

by FanOfMostEverything

First published 22nd of September, 2014

FoME's submissions to the Writeoff Contests, along with other bits and bobs.

The following are my submissions to the various Writeoff Contests and other interesting story bits that I can't fit anywhere else. Genres and characters will vary.

One Day in the Crystal Library

Author's Notes:

Entered in the August 2014 contest, came in 23rd out of 51. Prompt: Famous Last Words

"Minster Sombra?"

The unicorn looked up from the ancient tome, and a little filly looked back at him, stubby little horn and fluffy little wings marking her as the newest scion of the realm.

Sombra smiled. "The term is 'Minister,' Cadence. Though you can just call me Sombra."

"Okay." She stared at him, saying nothing more.

He tried to go back to his reading, but those eyes, they seemed to bore into his soul. He reread the same paragraph three times without noticing. Finally, he looked up, and sure enough, there she was. Still staring. He wasn't sure if she'd even blinked.

Still, no sense in being rude. "Can I help you with anything?"

She considered the question, formulating her response with all the grace and dignity expected of an alicorn. Finally, she answered, "Whatcha doin'?"

Ah. Just foalish curiosity. Well, no harm in indulging her a little. "I'm studying magic."

Cadence blinked and frowned. "But you're good at magic."

Sombra nodded. "Yes, but I can always get better."

"I guess…" The filly tilted her head as she considered this. "What kind of magic?"

A chill crawled down Sombra's spine. Completely irrational, of course. It was for all the right reasons; surely even the Empire's youngest princess would be able to see that. "A very special kind of magic. You know about the Crystal Heart?"

Cadence nodded fast enough that she seemed to risk whiplash. "Uh-huh! It keeps us safe from the bad things outside."

"That's right. But it needs everypony in the Empire to be happy to work."

She frowned. "But everypony is happy."

"For now," Sombra noted. "But wouldn't it be a good idea to have something else protecting us? Something we can use when we're sad?"

"I guess…" Cadence's frown deepened. It sounded wrong, but Minster Sombra was a grownup, and he seemed like he knew what he was talking about. "But what?"

Sombra laid a hoof on the codex. "That's what I'm studying. I'm going to take the darkness of all the nasty things out there and turn it against them."

"But… but that's bad magic!" Cadence gasped.

Sombra smiled and ruffled her mane. "Magic isn't good or bad, Princess. Only magicians. I may be using dark magic, but I will use it for good."

"But what if something bad happens?" The filly's eyes were wide with fear.

He laughed at this, long and hearty. "What could go wrong?"

This time, Sombra thought to himself, this time he'd be able to do it right. No nonsense. No hesitation. No untimely interference from meddling alicorns. Between his growing crystal platform—oh, he had legs again, how about that—and gravity delivering the Crystal Heart, it would work this time. Nothing could go wrong.

Then a pink blur sped by, and the dragon and the Heart were both out of his reach.

Sombra took in their savior. He glared, snarled, and thought the words his shadow-ravaged throat couldn't produce:

Oh, rub it in, why don't you?

Then he exploded.

Negotiations

Author's Notes:

Entered into the September 2014 competition, tied with Chris's The Sweetest Water for first out of 23. Prompt: There is Magic in Everything.

Apple Bloom trudged into Sugarcube Corner, head down, ears flat, tail drooping. Even her bow seemed limp.

Naturally, Pinkie Pie couldn't let this stand. "Wow, somepony looks like she could use a pick-me-up!" She looked around the store, saw no other Apples, and leaned over the counter to whisper, "Want to try the pear tart?"

Apple Bloom looked up at her with a hard stare. "I need your help, Pinkie."

"Sure!" Pinkie's smile assumed its familiar, cheek-splitting width. "I'm always happy to help a friend in need with some friendly deeds! Though not the one to Sugarcube Corner, that belongs to the Cakes." She brought a hoof to her chin. "Now, those cupcakes of yours did come out a bit on the crunchy side, but single-recipe cutie marks aren't unheard of, especially not in your family. Still, don't you want the other Cru—"

"Not with baking." Apple Bloom took a deep breath and redoubled her "big pony" expression. "I need you to teach me magic."

"Oh." Pinkie blinked. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. "Oh." She turned to the Corner's kitchen. "Mrs. Cake! I'm taking my lunch break; I have a life lesson to impart!"

"Alright, dear!" came the confirmation.

Pinkie nodded to herself and moved away from the counter. "Walk with me, young grasshopper."

A green-coated colt looked up from his parfait. "Huh?"

"Sorry, Grasshopper, not you. I meant Apple Bloom."

As the colt rolled his eyes, Apple Bloom trotted to Pinkie's side. As they left the shop, she asked, "So, where do we start?"

Bloom looked up at Pinkie and nearly tripped over her own hooves. Pinkie wasn't smiling. Her mouth was set in a straight line, her gaze locked on the horizon. "Tell me," she said, "why you want to learn from me."

"Well…" Apple Bloom trailed off, her head dipping down again. She was silent for several seconds before speaking again. "It's… I know I shouldn't feel this way, but Sweetie's figuring out magic, and Scootaloo's managing some good hangtime, and I'm…"

"Jealous?"

"…Yeah. My friends get to do all this cool stuff 'cause they're a unicorn and a pegasus. What do I get? Strength? Anypony can be strong. Look at Bulk Biceps."

Pinkie nodded. "You're far from the first earth pony to feel that way. Twilight tells me you're really good with potions, though."

Apple Bloom snorted. "Anypony can mix a potion. You take this, that, and the other in the right amounts, mix them the right way, and you're done. That ain't magic, it's science."

"Heh." Pinkie's chuckle brought a surprising amount of relief to Apple Bloom. The party pony just wasn't meant to look serious. "Don't let Twilight hear you say that. She'll explain the difference, and it will take her hours."

"Fine. But it still ain't what I want." Apple Bloom turned to Pinkie, grinning and eager. "But you, you can do darn near anything! You and Cheese Sandwich during the Goof-Off, you was pulling things out of thin air left and right, doing things a whole team of unicorns couldn't do!"

Pinkie waved her head from side to side noncommittally. "Well, it depends on the unicorns. But yeah, a pair of pugnacious party ponies is particularly phenomenal—"

"I don't think you pronounce the 'p' on that last one—"

"But there's a reason why we were so eye-catching. I'm not teaching you, Apple Bloom. Power comes at a cost."

Apple Bloom gaped and came to a halt. "Y-you mean you'd teach Diamond Tiara if she asked?"

Pinkie boggled at her for a moment before bursting into laughter. "No! No, no, no, definitely not." She shook her head. "Keep walking, Bloom, we're not there yet."

The filly complied. "Where's there?"

"You'll see. But I didn't mean a cost in bits. I meant a cost in sanity. Cheese and I are crazy. Not just crazy-fun or crazy-random or any other nice way of putting it, but full-blown crazy. In order to do what we can, we have to make ourselves so loco in the coco that our Yoko is a choco."

Apple Bloom digested this for a moment. "What?"

"Exactly." Pinkie offered her a sad smile. "You can't even comprehend what it takes to be a party pony, Apple Bloom, and it's better that you don't. If it turns out that that's your talent, then yes, I will teach you. But I have no right to tear you away from your destiny and twist your mind into a balloon animal."

Bloom scowled. "You seem plenty sane right now."

Pinkie snickered. "Oh, trust me, I am going to pay for this later." She put on a serious face and continued, "But right now, you need somepony with a good head on her shoulders, and I'm willing to screw mine back on until we get where we're going. Which we have."

"Here" was a fairly typical example of Ponyville architecture, excepting the expanded first floor. A dark interior of stools, tables, casks, and taps was faintly visible through wide windows. Above the door hung a sign with a bunch of grapes and a strawberry, while behind it hung one reading "Closed."

"The Punch Bowl?" Apple Bloom looked up at Pinkie and silently revised her assessment of the mare's mental health. "I ain't allowed in there. Besides, it ain't even open."

Pinkie nodded. "Exactly! Which means you can see Berry without entering the forbidden zone. Ooooh." She waved her forelegs in what was probably meant to be a menacing way.

Apple Bloom just rolled her eyes. "Fine."

"That's the spirit! Come on!" Pinkie led her around the back of the establishment and up an exterior staircase.

Knocking summoned Berry Punch. "Pinkie," she said with a faint smile. "I wasn't expecting you."

"Oh, I'm just here to drop off Apple Bloom. She thinks earth pony magic isn't anything special."

Berry quirked an eyebrow and turned to the filly. "Is that so?"

Bloom squirmed. "Well, I…"

Berry held up a forehoof. "It's okay."

Pinkie ruffled Apple Bloom's mane. "Don't worry. You're in good hooves." She sprang up onto the bannister and began tipping back. "Now, if you two will excuse me, I'm on lunch break so I should probably eat somethiiii—"

Both watched her slide down. Berry chuckled and turned towards the door. "Well, come on in. We'll talk."

"Okay…"

Apple Bloom wasn't sure what she was expecting in Berry Punch's house, but what she saw wasn't it. It was a fairly normal living room for the most part: couches, table, firefly lamps, a few landscape paintings hanging from the walls. What stood out was the complicated machinery in one corner that greatly resembled the potion equipment she used during Twilight Time. This model, however, seemed like it was designed with even greater durability, including a few components that looked custom-made. It was pretty clear why. "You sure you should have your still in your house?"

Berry chuckled again. "Don't worry, I haven't used that one for a while. It's just a conversation piece."

Bloom backed away from the contraption. "If you say so..."

"Such caution from a Cutie Mark Crusader? I'm surprised." Berry sat on a couch. "Come on. That's not why you're here."

"…Yeah, it ain't." Apple Bloom hopped up on another. "I feel so stupid thinking like this, but I can't get the thought out of my head."

Berry nodded. "You're far from the only one. So, is it horn envy, wing envy, or just a general sense of wanting what you don't have?"

Apple Bloom sighed. "The last one, I guess. I just want to be… well, flashy. I already know what Applejack would say: that ain't the earth pony way. Well maybe I don't want to do it the earth pony way. Maybe I want to do something as impressive as bucking rain out of clouds or moving stuff with my mind."

Berry got up. "Don't go anywhere," she said as she walked into another room. "I'm going to show you something." She returned with a peach in her mouth. She set it on the coffee table and gave a slight smile. "I thought about using an apple, but your sister would probably sense it from Sweet Apple Acres."

"Sense what?" Apple Bloom leaned towards the peach.

"Watch carefully." Berry reared up and and flicked her fetlocks. "Nothing up the sleeves I'm not wearing." She set her forehooves on the peach and scowled at it.

At first, nothing seemed to happen. Then, the mare's hooves pressed in a little more deeply, and discoloration spread from them across the fruit. Berry removed her frogs from the now brown, squashy peach and smiled. "Ta da."

Apple Bloom gaped for a good twenty seconds. A sharp smell began to waft from the fruit. Finally, she asked, "What in Celestia's name did you just do?"

The smile only widened. "My special talent is making and mixing drinks, including those of an alcoholic nature. Making alcohol is a process known as—"

"Fermentation. I know alchemy."

Berry nodded. "Good. Then you know that fermentation is actually a form of rot. Which means that, with a touch and an exertion of will, I can tell fruit to decay. And it listens. In unicorn parlance, I'm technically a necromancer."

Apple Bloom's mind whirled with possibilities. "So, could I—"

"Maybe. Even after I got my cutie mark, it took me years to figure out how to do this. That being said, I'm not that unusual among earth ponies."

Bloom dragged her attention away from the peach. "You ain't?"

Berry shook her head. "Far from it. You know Bonbon?"

A hesitant nod. "Sure. Candy maker, cutie mark of three wrapped candies."

"That's her. Well, several years ago, I think around when you were born, a pack of timberwolves came into town. She chased them out with literal red-hots." Berry smiled. "She didn't use any alchemy beyond sugar and cinnamon oil. She just told the spice to burn differently. That's the kind of thing we do, Apple Bloom. Unicorns use magic. Pegasi push it around. We negotiate with it, the magic of earth and everything that comes from it."

Apple Bloom considered this for a moment. "So how come Applejack never told me about this?"

"Well…" Berry's smile grew rather awkward. "You see, it's best to negotiate from a position of authority, and that…" She trailed off.

"That comes from a cutie mark," Apple Bloom finished flatly.

Berry sighed and nodded. "In so many words. That's probably why your sister never told you about this." She glanced to one side, thinking about this. "Well, that, or she doesn't really think about it. Applebucking isn't exactly the most creative expression of earth pony magic. No offense."

Bloom blinked. "Kicking trees is magical?"

"Virtually everything an earth pony does is magical, especially if it involves her special talent. Granted, there are exceptions. Cherry Berry flies better than half the pegasi in town because she has the respect of every component in her flying machines. Don't ask me what that has to do with a pair of cherries." Berry smiled again. "It's rarely flashy, but it's a magic your friends can't do. For now, all I can tell you is to be open to it."

"That's it?" It sounded far too easy.

"That's it. Go out and give it a try."

Apple Bloom narrowed her eyes. "You ain't just trying to get rid of me, are you?"

Berry chuckled. "Well, I do need to open up the bar soon, but no. This is the sort of thing you have to learn through experience."

"Okay…" Apple Bloom left, sparing one last glance at the alchemical still, considering adjustments she might make. She walked home, thoughts buzzing through her mind. Concussive impact, sympathetic vibrations, ballistic trajectories all along just the right vectors to put the apples in the baskets…

Well, shoot. Put that way, it sure seemed like magic. To say nothing of the rituals involved in making Zap Apple jam.

With that thought, she found herself in the east field. The trees' outermost branches swayed in a gentle breeze. Apple Bloom dug her hooves into the soil a little, closed her eyes, and hoped.

Hesitantly, cautiously, she asked, "Hello?"

And the world answered.

From On High

Author's Notes:

Entered into the October 2014 competition, came in seventh out of 49. Prompt: Just Over the Horizon.

There were a lot of little things Dash that liked about flying really high: the wispy wild clouds, the feeling of accomplishment in simply making it up there, the sense of just how screwed she'd be were it not for her pegasus magic. She was aware of the cold and such, but there was something like a constant chant of "This is how awesome you are" in the back of her head, telling her she was safe.

The best part by far was the view. Maybe it was the thin air, but being up here made her feel... well, she wanted to call it "sappy," but it was more poetic than anything. Beneath her was Equestria, a patchwork of dull, boring, and green. But the sky opened up all around her, a bowl of blue echoed on her coat, promising infinity to those who sought it.

Yeah, it was definitely the thin air. And maybe too many Daring Do books, ridiculous as that seemed. Still, the panorama called to her. There was so much to see out there. So much to explore, so much to do, so many who didn't yet know just how awesome she was. The winds blew at her, tugging her towards an unknown destiny.

And she could let them. She could glide for miles from up here, go across the country with hardly a flap. She could just about make out some pegasus cities. The smudge almost directly beneath her was Cloudsdale. To the west were Las Pegasus and, much closer to her level, Denvertigo, the Five-Mile High City. To the east, where the winds pushed her, she couldn't see anything, but she knew that way led to the Griffish empire.

Maybe she'd find Gilda. Maybe she'd find a special somepony. Maybe she'd find something she couldn't even imagine. She couldn't see what would come any more than she could see over the lip of the sky. But she could go and find out.

Applejack bucked a tree and looked to the pegasus resting in another. "You know, RD, sometimes I wonder. What's it like up there?"

Dash waved a hoof at her. "C'mon, AJ. You've been up in Cloudsdale."

"Yeah, but I bet you've gone a lot higher." Applejack started putting baskets in place for the next tree. "What's it like when there ain't nopony but you and the big blue?"

Rainbow Dash shrugged and laid back. "Eh, it's nothing special. I'd rather hang out with you guys."

Last Slice

Author's Notes:

Entered into the October 2014 competition, tied with Chinchillax's Hospice for 13th out of 49. Prompt: Just Over the Horizon.

"Big Macintosh?"

Big Mac looked up from the plow he'd been mending. "Yes, Granny?"

She smiled and patted his withers. "You're a good stallion, but you're allowed to do something outside of the farm." She winked. "Besides, the next crop of Apples has to come from somewhere."

The stallion shuddered. "I suppose. What brought this on?"

Granny Smith looked out of the open shed door, out at a perfect view of Sweet Apple Acres in all its glory. "There's a chill in my bones that ain't going away. Celestia's sun's a bit dimmer and the shadows are a little heavier. I ain't long for this world."

Mac stood and enveloped her in an embrace. "Don't say that, Granny."

She shook her head. "It's true. I had a good run, much better than what anypony might have thought, me included. And it weren't my pancreas, so that'll show that know-it-all at Ponyville General!"

"Granny." Mac scowled even as he blinked back tears. He took a deep breath. "How much longer do you think you have?"

"Oh, I'd say a few hours."

"Well, we…" Mac bolted to his hooves. "WHAT!?"

"Well I'd've given you better notice if I had it!" Granny grinned. "Don't you worry, old Granny's had a plan for this for a while. Already said my peace with your sisters. AJ's been running the place for years anyway, save for you doing the books. Apple Bloom…" The old mare wilted a little. "Well, I ain't happy to tell her goodbye, but at least I ain't near her whole world no more. She'll get by. Do a lot more than get by, if she can do what I think she can."

Macintosh bit his lower lip as he thought. "We could—"

"No time, Macky, no time! I need every minute I got!" She raced off as quickly as her hip allowed.

Mac caught up in a few steps. "I could at least get you there faster."

Granny glanced away for a moment, but Apple pragmatism won out over Apple pride. "Oh, alright."

With a little help from her grandson, Granny Smith touched up her will, wrote down a few secret recipes and bits of zap apple lore, and composed an obituary. She knew that last one would be flowered up to Tartarus and back, but at least she got a say in the matter.

All that done, she settled into bed, removed her false teeth, and shut her eyes.

"Hello, Granny."

She peeked open one eye. "With all respect, I ain't your granny."

The alicorn gave a soft smile. Her coat was a dark gray, and only seemed that way because nothing could seem as black as her mane. No stars twinkled there, though its edges were a soft white. Her cutie mark was a white marble tombstone, which struck Granny Smith as somehow tasteless. "No," she said, "you aren't, but it's how you've thought of yourself for a long time."

Granny shrugged. "Fair enough, I suppose. I have to say, you ain't quite how I pictured you."

This got a grin. "You were expecting somepony thinner? Dressed differently? I don't suppose there's a scythe laying around that I could borrow?"

The old mare rolled her eyes, though she did feel her cheeks twitch a bit. She began to limp out of bed, paused, and got to the floor far more smoothly. She looked back and saw her own face. "So, that's it then."

The alicorn waved her head from side to side. "In one sense, yes. In many others—"

"Any of them others have me back in that body?" Granny pointed a hoof at the one in question.

"Well…" The other mare hissed air through her teeth. "No."

"Well, that's the important one." Granny shrugged. "Couldn't hurt to check, though. So, what happens now?"

The alicorn smiled again. "That's the fun part. I never know until we get there. Follow me, Mrs. Smith."

And so they trotted to an undiscovered country.

Closure

Before me is a tragedy. They stand arrayed, the aged, the decrepit, the forgotten. A less charitable mare might call them failures, but that would be doing them a grave disservice. That they stand here when their comrades do not is no fault of theirs. Only the vagaries of fortune kept them from what they were meant to do.

I remember when they were young. To me, it is scarcely any time at all, but to them, it was their life. They stood, rank after rank, full of promise, dreaming of all they might do, all they were born to do. And many of them did, fulfilling their purpose.

Alas, even in Equestria, not every destiny comes to fruition.

I know them all, each by name. I can do no less for them, though they deserve far more. Still, even I, with all my power, could not force circumstance to favor them. I could not give them their moment in the sun, for if I had, what meaning would it have had?

Forgive me, Cherry Danish. Your proud crimson eyes have grown rheumy, and your lustrous coat has grown thin with age. Forgive me, Oatmeal Raisin. It broke my heart to see your firm strength give way to flab and your soft heart harden like a stone. Forgive me, all of you, for you deserved to serve a mistress greater than I, one who would not have squandered your potential.

Would that the hordes of the world, savage and slavering, charge across the land and storm our gates, that such brave souls such as these might prove themselves as they were meant to. Alas, this is a time of peace. Many rejoice at such calm. Some even thank me for it. None think of those who lived for greater things, for the gnashing of teeth and red-stained hooves.

The new generation lies on the cusp. Soon, it shall claim its birthright. This cycle has repeated itself countless times, with those who were denied their chance supplanted by those who may yet prove equally unfortunate. And I must stand and watch it play out, so mighty in so many ways, and yet utterly powerless here.

I hate it. Ponies would be shocked to hear those words. They think my love all-encompassing, my ire rare and reserved for the truly abominable. But I hate this. I hate seeing lives thrown away, not in what some see as senseless waste, but in the work of those lifetimes wasted, their dreams denied.

How many times have I wished I could change these fates? How many times have those even greater than I told me that this is the way it must be? And surely their wisdom is greater than mine. I am but a dabbler in these mysteries of creation. They were born to them.

And yet…

And yet, there is hope. This silver legion of mine still has enough life for one final crusade, one last noble mission. I look in their ancient eyes, and I still see the same glimmers of hope that danced there so long ago. They do not think I have failed them, and perhaps they are correct. Their loyalty is still firm. Their skills are still honed. Their cause is still righteous.

Part of me insists that this is folly. To deny the wisdom of those who came before me would be the ultimate act of hubris. Would I finally shed those last scraps of humility and declare myself a goddess, mistress of life and death? Where would it end? What costs would I have to pay? But I quiet my doubt with a final question.

Who am I to deny them this last chance at glory?

“Pinkie, did you eat all of the day-old pastries?”

“I had to, Mr. Cake. It was my duty.”

Author's Notes:

An idea I had for the current prompt, "Closing Time." Sadly, this one would suffer for being extended to the 2,000 word minimum this round. Still, that's no reason not to share it.

Nuggets

Fluttershy sat before the stage of the Carousel Boutique, a small smile on her face. She wasn't quite a fashionista herself, but she came the closest out of Rarity's friends. As such, Rarity had devised another way to keep her edging forward on the road to assertiveness: constructive criticism. Fluttershy was the first to see Rarity model her newest designs, and she gave her honest, unfiltered opinion with every glimpse.

At least, that was how it went in theory. In practice, Fluttershy might say something that could conceivably be construed as negative every six or seven dresses. Still, it was time spent with a friend, and she really did feel like she was getting more assertive and discerning.

"I should warn you," Rarity said from behind the curtain, "this one is a bit experimental." She swept into view, clad in a silvery gown that hugged the curves of her withers and hips while staying loose enough to billow about her legs. The sequins shimmered like the sun on a stream. She struck a pose and said, "What do you think?"

Fluttershy was agog, eyes wide and jaw dropped. "Oh, Rarity, it's beautiful! I think it's the best thing you've shown me today!"

"Hmm. Do you?" Rarity looked back at the rack of other frocks in the changing room.

"Oh! Not to say that the others were bad. This one just..." Fluttershy struggled for a word. She borrowed one of Rarity's. "It pops!"

"Pops?" Rarity adopted a thoughtful moue as she pinched part of the gown in her magic and lifted it, watching the fabric flow. A grin edged across her face. "I suppose it does rather pop, doesn't it? Well, this turned out better than I expected."

Fluttershy tilted her head. "Why wouldn't it?"

"Well, I've never worked with this mineral before." Rarity gestured towards the sequins. "I had no idea what to expect from it. I'm not even sure what it is."

"Where did you find it?"

"Believe it or not, Discord gave it to me." Rarity's horn lit up, and a tiara floated into view from the changing room, adorned with five clear, perfectly straight crystal stalks. "I even had enough left over for a lovely little accessory."

"Oh. Um. I see." Fluttershy's eyes darted about.

"Fluttershy? Is something the matter?"

"No! Nothing's the matter. Why would anything be the matter?"

Rarity raised an eyebrow. "Well, for one, you bolted a few inches into the air when I asked. And you're still there."

Fluttershy blinked, then deliberately let herself descend. She smiled, or at least showed her teeth. "There. All better. What's the next dress like?"

Rarity sighed. "What did Discord do?"

Fluttershy shut her eyes. "Please don't be mad at him."

Hoofsteps approached. When Fluttershy opened her eyes again, Rarity was next to her, their sides touching in a comforting presence. "I won't be mad at him or at you. Just tell me what's wrong."

Fluttershy checked the dress. Yes, the sequins were hexagons, slices of the same crystals as the ones on the tiara. "Discord... when he eats, he digests the inherent chaos of the material."

"And?"

"And what's left is very..." Fluttershy chewed her lip, "unchaotic."

Rarity gazed at nothing. "As in crystals."

"Mm-hm."

"Crystals identical to the ones he gave me."

"Mm-hm."

Rarity stepped away from Fluttershy. She removed the gown and tiara with quick, precise movements; balled them up, metal included; and set them on fire with a thought. "Let us never speak of this again."

"Next dress?"

"Next dress."

Author's Notes:

Not actually a Writeoff entry, but inspired and entitled by a Writeoff in-joke.

Everyone gets a stupid story now and again. I'm cashing in one of mine.

Course Review

Author's Notes:

Entered in the May 2015 contest, came in 74th out of 115. Prompt: "I Regret Nothing"

The study session was a weekly tradition that dated back to before Sunset had split up the group, and it was reinstated when she joined it. It moved from house to house each week, and this time, it was in Rarity's apartment over the Carousel Boutique. The mannequins and rolls of fabric had been moved out of the way to open floor space for textbooks, scratch paper, and laptops.

Rainbow Dash was lying on her belly, trying to force herself to focus on a passage about Commander Hurricane. She frowned and looked up from Hurricane cutting the Discordian Knot. "Hey, Sunset."

Sunset Shimmer looked over from helping Applejack with trigonometry. "Yeah?"

"You're supposed to be some kind of super-genius wizard, right?"

Sunset nodded. "I was Celestia's personal student back in Equestria, yeah."

"Then how come you suck at history?"

The other girls looked up from their efforts. Rarity scowled at her. "Really, Rainbow, is that any way to speak to a friend?"

Dash sat up and shrugged. "Hey, all I'm saying is that the rest of us need this. Applejack can't do math."

Applejack pulled her hat over her face. "Not well," she muttered.

"Pinkie's essays have to get translated before Ms. Singer will even take them."

Pinkie jabbed her fist into the air. "'Funnerificest' is a word no matter what she says!"

"Rarity can't remember anything in Prench past 'Bonjour,'"

"It's true!" Rarity sobbed. "It's true-hoo-hoooo!"

Dash waited for her to finish before continuing. "Shy has such crappy participation grades that she's gotta keep up everywhere else."

Fluttershy simply nodded.

"And I got my dumb learning thing where I don't get anything until I actually do it. But we're not magic genius ponies." Dash crossed her arms. "What's your deal?"

"My deal," said Sunset, "is that I was never immersed in this world's history the way you all were. You hear names like Cherry Chopper and Stovepipe Hat and you immediately know who they're talking about. I don't. Even when I find a name sounds familiar, it's in a completely different context." She sighed. "I didn't really care before. I was always planning on going back home and taking over. These past few months have been me trying to catch up with the rest of the world."

There was silence. A few of the girls had edged back to their work when Fluttershy asked, "Do you ever miss Equestria?"

"Not as much as I used to." Sunset smiled. "Not now that I'm able to appreciate what I have here."

She leaned back. "If I hadn't run away from Equestria, if I hadn't been a self-entitled little brat... Well, I'd have never discovered this world. I'd have never met all of you."

"You'd have never taken a rainbow to the face!" said Pinkie Pie.

"I might not have needed to. But looking back, seeing what's come of all of the struggle and heartache and kicking siren butt?" Sunset looked about the room. "I've gone through the school of hard knocks, and I've come out better for it. I don't know what I'd be if I hadn't messed up, but looking back?" She beamed. "I wouldn't change a thing."

Mascarpolo

Pinkie Pie took in her work. Some ponies might see the drooping streamers, wilting balloons, and booths in need of taking down as depressing, a reminder that every party ended eventually, especially with the added symbolism of the setting sun. But Pinkie wasn't some ponies. She just saw the memories of fun and the knowledge that she had brought it. Even to the yaks.

"Great work, Pinkie," said Twilight, whose magic was folding one of the tents. "We couldn't have done this without you."

"No kidding," Rainbow Dash said while gathering a string of flags. "I never thought streamers could do that. Now I know how Derpy feels around packing tape."

"Thanks, guys." Pinkie sighed and smiled. "It all turned out well in the end, didn't it?"

"Looks like it," a low voice drawled from the shadows of a nearby house.

All six friends turned to face the unexpected pony. Dash tensed up. Rarity reared into the opening stance of Cobra Hoof. Twilight lit her horn.

Pinkie beamed and pounced. "Cheesie!"

"Pinkie!" Cheese Sandwich all but exploded out from under his serape, meeting her in a midair collision of a hug and leaving the rest of the Bearers to relax as best they could.

The embrace lasted for a short time before Pinkie gasped and pulled away. "Cheese, I never thought I'd say this, and please don't take it the wrong way, but please don't tell me you came to throw a party in Ponyville."

Cheese blinked for a moment. "Well, I'm actually en route to Tallahorsee, but Ponyville seemed like a better place to stay the night than the open road."

Rarity smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

With a cough, Cheese cried, "So! Pinkie!" He put on a grin so fake that it might as well have come out of a spray can. "Why didn't you of all ponies want a party?"

Pinkie groaned and fell on her side. "Because the one we're cleaning up was for some of the grumpiest grumpuses I've ever had to entertain!"

Cheese offered her a hoof. As he pulled her back up, he asked, "Who could possibly dislike one of your parties?"

All six mares chorused the answer. "Yaks."

"Yaks?" Cheese tilted his head. "Yakyakistani yaks?"

"Are there any others?" asked Dash.

"Not that I know of. But Yakyakistan was one of the most easily entertained places I've ever been to!"

There was a terrible silence as a dozen eyes stared deep into Cheese Sandwich. Twilight broke the hush. "You've... been... to Yakyakistan?"

Cheese beamed. "Sure! After the first time I threw a party in the Crystal Empire, my Cheesy Sense kept dragging me further and further north. Princess Cadence herself escorted me to the northern border. Real nice of her." He put a hoof to his chin. "Though I'm not sure why."

Pinkie gasped. "Me too!"

"An' yer sayin' them yaks were an easy audience?" said Applejack.

"Are you kidding? They loved everything! That far north, they were desperate for novelty! Anything Equestrian was an incredible new experience for them."

"You don't say," Rarity deadpanned.

"And, uh..." Cheese's grin grew nervous, "I may have mentioned the pony who inspired me."

Fluttershy's eyes widened. "So the yaks came here expecting a Pinkie Pie party?"

"And it looks like they weren't disappointed!" Cheese's wide smile slowly shrank as nopony else joined in his enthusiasm. "Uh, weren't they?"

"And that," Pinkie Pie said to her foals, "is why your papa wrote the Book of the Marvels of the World."

"Because Princess Aunt Twilight would've zapped him otherwise?" asked Sachertorte.

"Exactly!"

Author's Notes:

Sachertorte and the idea of Pinkie having triplets come courtesy of scoots2, whose stories convinced me to board this ship.

Under Wraps

Author's Notes:

Another "too short to work" idea, this one for the June 2015 contest, "A Matter of Perspective."

I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.

I have done terrible things in the name of Princess and country, turning my mark-given talents towards the dark arts of combat confectionary. I’ve burnt timberwolves to ash with augmented red-hots. I’ve poisoned an entire changeling hive with emotionally resonant sourballs. I’ve blotted out the stars of a Canis Major with black licorice infused with the faint light of the new moon, as if making black licorice weren’t sin enough. There is as much blood on these hooves as there is sugar.

I'm as much of a monster as anything I’ve fought, and while I was active, I had accepted that. But then that bugbear slipped out of Tartarus, and Celestia shuttered the entire operation. Everypony from Director Bestiary down to the janitors officially didn’t exist anymore. I was given a pat on the back, a final pay envelope, and a buck out the door.

I’ve been all around the world. I’ve pointed Daring Do at Ahuizotl three different times (Between disguises and the voice-changing lozenges that earned me my cutie mark, she never did connect the dots.) I knew that just because the Princess shut us down, that didn’t mean that the monsters would stop coming. I put myself in one of the country’s biggest hot spots for monster activity, Ponyville.

I’d never really seen the place when there wasn’t a disaster in progress. For a town on the edge of a forest out of nightmares, it was, well, nice. Quaint, even. Some of the friendliest ponies I’d ever met, who never seemed to mind the stumbling of a mare who was still getting used to the mask she’d wear for the rest of her life.

Then I met you, and you made the rest of the town seem like the worst sort of jaded Manehattanites, the kind who see a mare wrestling a sewer gator in their bathrooms and demand to know who’s going to pay to fix the place.

I’d never met somepony like you before. You were smart. You were funny. You had a heart so big that just sitting next to you on a park bench meant the world to you. All those nights we spent just talking about music, about candy, about the magic of both…

I don’t deserve you. I love you. I love you so much, it hurts. But I know you don’t love me. How could you? You don’t even know me. I’m no better than a changeling, putting on an attractive identity that you’ll adore while hiding the monster underneath. I’m a chalky Hearts and Hooves message heart wrapped up like a fancy truffle, yet you bought me sight unseen.

That’s why we can never be more than friends. You deserve better.

Besides, even if we could be together, my work may yet catch up with me. Cerberus abandoned his post for hours before Twilight Sparkle was able to get him back. That’s plenty of time for some of the most cunning horrors sealed in Tartarus to slip out. Tirek, Scylla, Grogar… And that’s not taking the bugbear into account. It was clever enough to slip past even Cerberus’s vigilance. If it’s smart enough to do that, then it might be hunting me down even now. And if it ever found me...

Bad enough that you might lose your best friend. I'm not going to take your love away from you as well.

"Hey, Bon Bon."

Your words shake me out of my thoughts. "Yeah?"

You have the mail gripped in your magic. You pull one letter out of the clump and set it down on the kitchen table next to my oatmeal. "You got another one of those black envelopes with no return address. Or anything else. And after that time I tried to open one and it burst into heatless flame and didn't even leave ash..." You trail off with a chuckle that stabs at my heart. "Well, I learned my lesson."

"Thanks." They say if you wear the mask long enough, you become it. It's been years, and the smile on my face still feels as artificial as synthetic food coloring.

You beam back in spite of that. "Hey, what are best friends for?"

I hold back the cringe. Just drive your horn into my chest, Lyra. It'll have the same effect. "Right. Best friends forever."

"And ever." We nuzzle. Beautiful, artistic, and oblivious. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were part of the severance package.

One day, Bonnie. One day you'll tell me what you're hiding. I know you too well to miss it. I can see the little twitches of your ears when you hide your true feelings. I can hear your voice quaver the tiniest fraction of a pitch, no matter how many voice changers you suck on. And I can most definitely feel the magic on that mystery mail of yours. Even if the whole "featureless black envelope" thing weren't suspicious, I've seen the security spells in action. I didn't go to Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns for nothing, you know. I can recognize when something's keyed to a specific pony's magical signature.

But I'm not going to say anything before you're ready. I trust you, and I respect you. I know that one day, in your own time, you'll explain what the hay is going on. Then we'll be able to move past longing looks and lingering touches. I look forward to that day, and I know you do too. All those times your eyes were glued to my backside when you thought I wasn't paying attention sure say so.

Still, there's no rush. Playing a piece out of tempo can be fun, but it always sounds best when performed as the composer intended it. We'll make beautiful music together one day, Bon Bon. Just not yet.

Until then, well, best friends can tease each other, can't they?

Antithesis Statement

Author's Notes:

Entered in the July 2015 contest, came in 18th out of 107. Prompt: "Best Laid Plans"

Discord sat on his personal fainting couch, alone with his thoughts and the various abominations that called his home “skreeeeeeee!” But Discord had no time to listen to such dulcet tones, for he was deep in thought over a very unpleasant realization.

He couldn’t plan.

Well, it wasn’t that he couldn’t plan. He could do just about anything, and lining up a sequence of intended future events was simple enough that even ponies could do it. But the debacle with trying to make Fluttershy jealous had highlighted how when Discord tried it, it inevitably went awry.

He knew why. Planning was antithetical to his core concepts. He could frivolously use his powers all he liked, but anything with an eye towards the future would lead to a most unpleasant backlash. Sure, if the plan furthered the cause of Chaos and Disharmony, then he could delay the comeuppance for a while. He’d managed centuries of unrule before Luna and Celestia harmonized him. But as Celestia could attest, the problem with immortality was that no matter how much he put off his problems, they eventually came back to bite him.

And had Discord ever been bitten. Try to rule Equestria? Petrified. Try to drive a wedge between the Bearers of Harmony? Pacified. (Which, admittedly, wasn’t that bad, but it certainly hadn’t been what he was going for.) Try to capture Tirek? Recruited. Try to play it out in the hopes that the backlash would sweep up the centaur as well? Disempowered. In fact, that was probably why Discord had been able to give Twilight the Key of Magic without any repercussions; he didn’t have anything left to cause them.

Really, the only time it worked out in his favor was when he’d been able to steer Twilight back to her friends when the plunder vines had sprouted. (Which, he couldn't help but note, they had only done when he no longer wanted them to!) Even then, according to Fluttershy, Twilight had nearly been gassed into a helpless state, just waiting for something carnivorous to pass by and have a meal fit for a princess.

Well, Discord didn’t care much for patterns, but he could certainly see one when it was in front of his face. There was only one logical course of action, and contrary to popular expectation, he was going to take this.

He stood, cleared his throat, and proclaimed, “From this day forth, I will never plan again!”

“Which is when the pocket dimension collapsed.” Discord gave a sheepish grin.

Twilight blinked blearily. She wasn’t sure whether it was late or early, but the moon was up and she was in no mood for draconequi on the front step of her big castle thingy. “And?”

“I was hoping you could give me a place to crash, as it were. You’ve certainly extended the same offer to Rainbow Dash in the past.” Discord shifted to a familiar purple and green color scheme.

Whatever parts of Twilight that were functioning without caffeine muttered, “Can’t you just ask Fluttershy?”

“Well, you have more room and she has Angel Bunny.” Discord put his hands on where his hips would be, were he not presently a seven-foot-tall carrot. “I think it’s clear which option will work out better for all of us.”

“Will it be for long?”

“Not at all.” Discord produced a pair of crochet hooks and started working on the yarn of space and time, which resembled Luna's mane. “I should be able to make a new one in about a week. Maybe. As long as I don't think about it too hard, which seems to be the answer to the whole dilemma. I think.”

Twilight sighed. “Fine. I do have more guest bedrooms in this place than I know what to do with. Can you keep the chaos to a minimum in the meantime?”

Discord shook his head without malice. “I wouldn’t plan on it.”

Being Themselves

Applejack smiled as she trotted about the festivities. "Another year, another Sisterhooves Social."

Alongside her, Pinkie Pie beamed. "Yeah! And this year the Crystal Tree Chest Castle Map didn't give us any mystery quests! And my sisters even came!"

"Two of 'em, at least. Shame Limestone had t' stay at the rock farm."

Pinkie scoffed. "Please. A team of Mustangians couldn't drag her away. But at least Marble came."

Applejack chuckled. "Ah know Big Macintosh is happy 'bout that." She blinked and came to a halt. "Actually, come t' think of it, Ah ain't seen either o' them since the Social started."

Pinkie hummed to herself as she moved to face Applejack. "Yeah, me neither."

After a moment, Applejack shook her head and smiled. "They're prob'ly jus' enjoyin' each other's company. Ah mean, Mac's a perfect gentlecolt."

"And Marble would never do her times tables without consulting with the pairing stone first!"

Applejack blinked. "The pairin' what now?"

"It's only one of the bestest rock farming traditions ever! When youuu..." Pinkie trailed off, eyes wide, her gaze directed off to Applejack's side.

"Pinkie?" Applejack waved a hoof in front of Pinkie's eyes, getting no response. She took a deep breath and turned, bracing herself for whatever had stunned Pinkie Pie of all ponies.

Applejack's jaw dropped. She hadn't been prepared. There was no way she could have been.

Before her was... a couple. Definitely a couple. A rather well-appointed pair at that, the stallion in a smart suit and top hat, the mare in a dress that complemented what could only be called a full figure. There was just one minor complication.

"Big Mac?" said Applejack. "Marble?"

The couple traded looks. "I'm afraid you may have us mistaken for somepony else, miss," said the suited pony, grunting out a Trottingham accent about as authentic as a mug of Flimflam cider.

"Indeed," the one in the dress said in a falsetto. "Ah fear Ah find mahself as perplexed as a carnival barker at a silent auction."

Applejack's ears flattened. "Uh, beggin' yer pardon... Cousin Orchard Blossom, Ah presume?"

Orchard Blossom nodded. "You presume correctly. May Ah in turn presume that you are mah dearest cousin Applejack?"

Applejack's mind seized up. The only response she could think of leaked out without any conscious input. "Eeyup."

"Marvelous! Ah am ever so glad to see that circumstances have not kept you from attendin' this year's Sisterhooves Social." Blossom drooped. "Ah must apologize for the spectacle Ah made of mahself last year. Ah fear mah pride got the best o' me."

After a moment, Applejack wrangled her tongue back into obedience. "Uh, no problem. Nothin' that couldn't be fixed. So, could you introduce me to yer... beau?"

Orchard Blossom gasped. "Oh, of course! How unforgivably rude of me. Applejack, this is Quartzite Stratum."

Quartzite tipped his hat. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my good mare."

Applejack gave an uneasy nod. "Pleasure's all mine. Don't suppose yer a cousin of th' Pies?"

"Indeed. On their mother's side, a few generations removed, you see."

"Ya don't say." Applejack chewed her lip. "So, uh, supposin' a shy pony might've found a way t' come outta his shell a little, and then told his special somepony about it..." She trailed off, not sure how to bring the sentence to a close without jamming her hoof further down her throat.

Orchard Blossom raised an eyebrow. "Well, Ah don't see anythin' unreasonable in the scenario you have postulated, cousin, but Ah fail to see how it is germane to the conversation at hoof."

"Right." Applejack looked down. "Sorry."

"No worry, no worry," said Quartzite. "Interesting thought exercise, that."

"So, uh, you two get those duds at Carousel Boutique?"

Blossom nodded. "Indeed we did. Why, it was simply a privilege to retain the services of Ponyville's premiere couturier."

"Never been my bailiwick, that," said Quartzite, "but even I can tell the mare is a dab hoof with a needle and thread."

"Right. That's our Rarity. We're all real proud of her." Applejack nudged Pinkie.

Pinkie gave a stiff nod. "Mhm."

"Well, uh, we should prob'ly go find our sisters. Singin' competition's comin' up soon. Y'all enjoy yerselves."

Blossom smiled. "Why, thank you, cousin. We have every intention of doin' so. Best of luck in th' events." With that, the two of them walked onward, hoof in hoof. Applejack and Pinkie moved aside to let them pass.

As Applejack watched them go, she said, "You okay, Pinkie?"

"Am I allowed to laugh here? I can't tell."

"Neither can Ah, Pinkie. Neither can Ah."

Author's Notes:

All aboard the good ship Marblemac!

The thought came to me, and I wanted to get it down as soon as it did. Honestly, I think this one would overstay its welcome if extended any further.

Two Teaspoons of Grapefruit

Sour Sweet looked around the dinky little gym. Somehow, the lights had dimmed, confetti was raining from the ceiling, and… was that a disco ball?

“Well, isn’t this lovely?” she said to herself. She narrowed her eyes. “How did it happen?”

“Pinkie Pie,” said a voice behind her.

Sour rolled her eyes. “Thank you for that incredibly clear and helpful answer.” She turned to the speaker. “You must be—“ The rest of the sentence died in her throat. At first glance, she seemed to be looking at herself, though the doppelganger had no freckles, and her greenless hair was in two buns instead of a ponytail. Sour glared. “You.”

The other girl smiled and waved. “Hi, Sour Sweet.”

“Sweeten Sour.” What Sour did couldn't really be called a smile, more peeling back her lips to expose her teeth. “Why, it’s been months! I was hoping for years.”

“It’s good to see you too.”

“I’m sure,” Sour snarled. She looked around. “So, how is life at Loser High?”

Sweeten's expression still didn't shift. “It’s actually been pretty interesting lately. How’s Crystal Prep?”

“Oh, you know," said Sour. "Better facilities than here, better teachers than here, just better than here in general. Amazing, isn’t it, how two things can look kind of similar but one is clearly superior?”

Sweeten Sour shrugged. “I suppose it depends on what you’re judging.”

Sour Sweet snarled and clenched her fists. She opened her mouth, ready to deliver something that she just knew would finally, finally wipe the grin off of the other girl's face.

Sweeten beat her to it. “So, how’s Mom?”

Sour sagged. “She’s fine.” After a moment, she added, “How’s Dad?”

Her sister sighed. “Doing well enough.”

After an uncomfortable few seconds, Sour said, “Is he seeing anyone?”

Sweeten shook her head. “Not right now. Is she?”

Sour mirrored the gesture. “No." She picked at her uniform for a moment. "Still in marching band?”

“Yeah." A bit of Sweeten's earlier smile came back. "Helped with a great pep rally a few days ago. Still on the archery team?”

Sour smirked and put her hands on her hips. “Head of it.”

“Nice.” Sweeten smiled in full, and Sour felt herself match the expression.

Then the lights slammed back on and the music cut out. All eyes turned to the stage as Principal Cinch delivered a speech, the two student bodies separating as she spoke.

The twins stayed next to one another. “Wow,” said Sweeten. “She’s a real bitch, isn’t she?” When there was no reply, she turned to her sister, who was staring at her open-mouthed. “Uh, Sour?”

“That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said.”

Sweeten winked. “It’s the meanest thing you’ve ever heard me say.” She waved. "Good luck in the Friendship Games."

Some part of Sour raised her hand and muttered a "Thanks." The rest was busy with trying to put her world back together.

Author's Notes:

For the record:

It doesn't seem outside the realm of possibility. This has been my headcanon for a while, but PresentPerfect's Fast Times at Stinky Sugar collection catalyzed the idea enough for me to come up with this scene.

Also, it's really hard to come up with a title for a story involving Sour Sweet that doesn't sound like it'll involve Lemon Zest.

Bacon Literally

Today is not going at all as I had planned.

I’m complaining. Goodness, no. I get to spend the day with Prin— With Celestia. The princess was very clear about not using her title like I just did earlier in this sentence, oh for Elysium’s sake, what’s wrong with me?

Deep breath, Twilight. Let it go. Moving on.

Today is not going at all as I had planned. Getting a letter in the morning from Celestia asking me to spend the day with her… well, it didn’t seem like her to be so impulsive. Still, she sent back the correct identity verification code when I asked for it in my reply, so I guess it’s just part of today being what it is.

Still, even then, I wasn’t expecting to putter around the royal gardens. Don’t get me wrong, I’m enjoying it. Summer Shutdown was never a big deal for me, even in Ponyville, but now I’m with Celestia as she… um…

I really don’t have enough experience with earth pony magic to describe what I’m sensing properly. Or in general, really. The wings have been distracting enough; I’ve barely even thought about what else I got out of being vaporized and reconstituted. The best description I can give is that she’s sort of singing a lullaby to every tree and hedge in the garden, starting the months-long process of entering their dormant winter state.

…

I can’t take this anymore. I need to say something.

“Princess? Is this…”

She finishes telling part of the hedge maze’s outer wall that winter is coming and turns to face me with that faintly concerned expression that makes me feel like I kicked a puppy. “Yes, Twilight? Is something wrong?”

Deep breath. Calm in, stress out. Impossible as it is to imagine, you’re kind of, sort of her peer. “Is it really okay for you to do this?”

She takes on that quizzical little frown she always got when I answered a question in an unexpected way. “Everypony should do their part for seasonal transitions. I see no reason to exclude myself from it.”

“Yes, but today is the White Sabbath, when the night takes majority from the day, and when Luna takes on your duties. It’s your one day off all year, and you want to spend it gardening which is a perfectly legitimate hobby, why did I even bring up what you already know and why am I still talking?” I muzzle myself with my magic before I humiliate myself further.

Celestia smiles, and I feel my stress melt. “I do love it when you can answer your own questions. Though I wish you weren’t so hard on yourself in the process.”

I shrug my wings and give a sheepish grin. After a moment, I decide it’s safe to release the energy muzzle. “It’s just, this is only the fourth White Sabbath you’ve gotten to have since Luna returned, your fourth day off in more than a millennium. I’m happy to spend it with you and in whatever way you want. I just wasn’t expecting you to do the same thing as half of Ponyville.”

She nods and moves on to the next portion of maze hedge. “I understand, Twilight. Though I have been able to get a few more vacation days than you may think.”

I blink. “You have?”

“Oh yes.” Her smile becomes fond, but I can see the sorrow in her eyes. I know who she’s thinking of. “Sunset Shimmer discovered the tradition of the White Sabbath long before Luna reinstated it. One year, she insisted I relax for the equinox, that she would serve in my place.” Celestia shakes her head, but the smile’s still there. “I gave her a few hours. When I got back, the throne room was on the edge of a riot and Sunset looked a mess. That yellow mane of hers all askew—“

“Red and yellow.” I bite my lip, but not before the reflexive correction escapes.

Celestia turns to me, the quizzical frown making a return. “I’m sorry?”

Well, might as well bite the bit. “Sunset Shimmer’s mane is striped red and yellow.”

The frown deepens. I feel a weight settle in my stomach. “I remember each of my students over the centuries, Twilight. I should hope I can recall the one who came before you.”

Truth and devotion war in my mind. To my amazement, truth wins. “I should hope I can recall the mare who defeated a trio of sirens and my own crazed analogue.” I realize just who I was correcting and add, “Maybe she dyed her hair?”

Celestia nods after a moment. “Entirely possible.” She turns back to the hedge. “Have you ever helped with Summer Shutdown, Twilight?”

I shake my head, and she starts showing me how to commune with the garden. It’s fascinating, but a small part of me can’t get past Sunset’s mane.

Well, there’s an easy way to solve that.

It’s study hall when my journal buzzes. Ms. Harshwhinny barely even glances up at the glowing, vibrating book. Her usual look of mild distaste intensifies for just a moment before she turns back to the pile of essays she’s grading.

I’m not sure if the reaction says more about me, her, or what’s happened to Canterlot High lately.

Whatever. I can worry about that later. After the Friendship Games, I’m certainly not going to turn away a message from Princess Twilight.

Dear Sunset,

I know this sounds like a random question, but do you dye your ma hair? Princess Celestia was telling me about something that happened when you were her student—nothing bad!—and she mentioned that it was all yellow back then.

Your friend,
Twilight Sparkle

I take a moment to process the message. Is this…

Could Celestia really…

I close the history book I was reading and click open a pen.

Dear Twilight,

No, I don’t dye my hair. I… Well, it has to do with my diet.

Your friend,
Sunset Shimmer

I barely need to wait before her reply arrives.

Your diet? What, is your hair made of bacon?

I don’t waste a moment before putting pen to paper.

Dear Princess Twilight,

You now know the real reason why I can never go back home. I know Princess Celestia has forgiven me for going rogue, and even for stealing an Element of Harmony. But my crimes against porcinity are too great for even her mercy. If she ever saw me, she would see how I have been marked by my misdeeds. She would know. She would not be kind.

The worst part is that I can’t stop. There is no more addictive, pernicious substance in this world than bacon. Be grateful that you never tried any while you were human, Twilight. You would be trapped here with me, trapped by chains of shame and grease that grew heavier every day, and you would enjoy every horrible, wonderful, crunchy moment of it.

I won't ask for your forgiveness. I have imposed on that far too much in the past. It is my only hope, and a faint one at that, that you might one day again call me your friend. I’m sorry, Twilight. I’m sorry, but as I said before, I can’t stop.

Humbly,
Sunset Shimmer

P. S. Please thank Princess Celestia for the setup. We used to do tag-team pranks like this all the time when I was her student.

Author's Notes:

And then Twilight charged through the portal after reading the response halfway through, determined to find a cure for bacon addiction.

Seriously, I'm not sure where this came from. Part of it is probably Luffyiscool's latest Pony Shenanigans. (The bit starting at 8:26, for those who want to cut to the chase.) The rest was just striking while the inspiration was hot and wanting to experiment with first-person present tense.

And yes, Luna gets a Black Sabbath during the vernal equinox.

Incident Report #P5109

Author's Notes:

The following is a versebreaker story. Familiarizing yourself with the concept via the linked anthology is recommended, in part because a bunch of really talented people contributed to it, and so did I.

Incident Number: #P5109
Incident Location: Ponyville, Cantershire
Reporting Agent: Agent Lyra Heartstrings

Summary: Incident was a multi-song narrative arc. Some signs of harmonic strain were observed, but arc self-corrected them upon resolution. Incident consisted of six sub-incidents.

Sub-Incident #P5109-a
Type: Personal, “I Am”
Location: Sweet Apple Acres
Duration: 0:42
Summary: Minor incident only discovered through later harmonic tracing. Analysis indicates this was a prelude to sub-incident #P5109-f (see below.)

Sub-Incident #P5109-b
Type: Medley, Conflicting/Montage, Event
Location: Ponyville Primary Schoolhouse
Duration: 22:37:16 (objective), 3:03 (subjective)
Summary: Incident consisted largely of a polyphonic dueling duet, with chorus and brief third-singer interlude. Montage timeskip moved to next day with little incident. Note that interlude was interrupted by Diamond Tiara, one of the incident’s participants, through sheer force of personality. Other participants resumed performance, bringing incident to natural conclusion.

Sub-Incident #P5109-c
Type: Personal, “I Want”
Location: Streets of Ponyville (see Addendum #P5109-II)
Duration: 1:20
Summary: Incident consisted of externalized inner monologue with moderate symbolic transitions. Outside observers prevented temporal slippage.

Sub-Incident #P5109-d
Type: Duet, Monophonic Dueling
Location: Streets of Ponyville (see Addendum #P5109-III)
Duration: 1:55
Summary: Incident presented moral dichotomy to one participant. Some signs of harmonic strain in warping of early rhyme structure, participants’ continued motion at a gallop, and ease of escape at conclusion.

Sub-Incident #P5109-e
Type: Montage, Construction/Personal, “I Am”
Location: Ponyville Primary Schoolhouse
Duration: 4:07:13 (objective), 1:21 (subjective)
Summary: Positive reprise of sub-incident #P5109-c. No additional signs of harmonic or temporal strain present, though incident was interspersed with moments of unsung speech with background music.

Sub-Incident #P5109-f
Type: Denouement, Triumphant
Location: Ponyville Primary Schoolhouse, Streets of Ponyville, Sweet Apple Acres (see Addendum #P5109-IV)
Duration: 3:34
Summary: Potentially large-scale incident successfully contained to reasonable levels. π-class entity successfully confined to unsung speech. Earlier massive release of cutie mark magic corrected harmonic strain. Canterlot office confirms incident spread to diarchs’ throne room via dragonfire post, non-participation of Princesses Celestia and Luna.

Addendum #P5109-I
Given her discovered destiny’s close ties to that of her friends and to the harmonious expression of special talents, I strongly recommend that Sweetie Belle be dropped from consideration as a versebreaker.

Lyra hummed to herself, tapping her chin with her telekinetically held pencil. She leaned back in her chair and pointed her head towards the kitchen. “Hey, Sweetie? Could you take a look at this for me before I type it up?”

Bonbon walked into the living room, wearing an sugar-spotted apron, her hair tied back. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

“Hey, if I don’t add the Drops, it’s a pet name.”

Bonbon scowled. “It’s my secret identity, Lyra.”

"Sorry. Still, I could use an extra pair of eyes." Lyra grimaced and gestured at the rough draft on the coffee table. "The higher-ups still haven't forgotten the Cheese Sandwich debacle. If that goof-off hadn't technically received royal approval...” She shook her head. "Point is, a little help would be appreciated."

"That part of my life is over, Lyra."

Lyra wondered how many other denizens of Tartarus wanted revenge. Aloud, she said, "I'm just asking for a little proofreading from a fellow civil servant."

Bonbon moved to Lyra’s side and looked at the paper. She frowned. “Incident reports. I always hated these.”

“Yeah, they’re a real pain in the hindquarters.”

“Well, they can be, but that’s not why.” Bonbon looked away, her ears folded back.

Lyra stood up. “Bonnie?”

“It’s the official language. It just…” Bonbon shook her head. “A kraken once killed two ponies who I’d fought with for years. My team had to leave their corpses on the sea floor ten miles off the coast of Horseshoe Bay. Even if we could retrieve them, they officially didn't exist." She shut her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. "You know what I had to write on the report? ‘Team experienced moderate casualties.’ That and their names etched on a plaque in the Canterlot office were all the memorial they got. I don’t even know what happened to those plaques when the agency was shuttered.

“But the wording you have to use, it just… It feels so distant from what actually happened. We risked our lives to keep this nation safe and the bureaucrats insisted that we bleed anything that might recognize that out of the official documentation." Bonbon's eyes snapped open as she jabbed an accusing hoof at Lyra's report. "And here! Here it’s the exact opposite. Something beautiful happened today, and all you’re allowed to talk about is harmonic strain and pi-class entities." She frowned. "What even are those? The only p-class entities I know of cling to cave ceilings."

"Party ponies."

"Oh. Yeah, I am a bit surprised that Pinkie didn't hold a parade in the Crusaders' honor." Bonbon gave Lyra a flat look. "Though I suppose you would consider that a bad thing."

Lyra reared up, holding up her forehooves defensively. "Hey, I'm not saying they didn't earn it, but my orders are clear. We were already pushing dangerous levels of musical density. Trust me, keeping Pinkie from singing did a lot less to ruin their day than a lyrical singularity would've."

"I suppose I have to take your word for that."

An uncomfortable silence stretched for several seconds. Lyra did what she did to any malignant sonic structure and broke it. "What I don't understand is how you could love musical numbers so much after what you did. Aren't there all sorts of monsters that use music?"

Bonbon nodded. "Sure. Sirens, kokopellis, basslions—"

"Basslions?"

"They're Hosstralian; they usually prey on drop bears. Imagine a Tackmanian tiger with a skull like a hoofball helmet and a voice like Vinyl Scratch's experimental records. But we usually liaised with properly cleared versebreakers to deal with those." Bonbon rolled her eyes. "The agency usually just threw me at the big, snarly things."

Lyra raised an eyebrow. "That description sounds like you had a run-in with a basslion."

"A small pack escaped onto the docks when being transported to the Sacrapinto Zoo." Bonbon sighed. "At least nopony died that day."

Lyra grinned. "I have an idea."

Bonbon raised an eyebrow. "Okay."

The rough draft floated in front of her face. "You make sure this is suitable for work," said Lyra, "I put in the last few addenda, and then we can sit and talk about all the horseapples you had to go through."

The other eyebrow joined in. Bonbon shook her head."That's way too much for one talk."

"Then we can get started." Lyra hugged her. "Keeping all of that stuff pent up isn't healthy."

Bonbon returned the embrace for a moment before pulling away. "I could tell you, but then I'd have to banish you."

Lyra giggled.

"I'm serious."

"I know, but you're just too cute to make that sound threatening." Lyra winked. "At least, not without the fake mustache. Besides, you don't have to."

"I really do."

"Please. If your NDA was anything like mine, if you tried to leak anything, like..." Lyra's mouth kept moving, but silently. A faint blurring around her muzzle kept Bonbon from reading her lips. "... then that would've happened. You literally couldn't have told me your secret identity if you were supposed to keep it secret." She blinked and facehoofed. "And now I have another form to fill out. I did not think that through."

Bonbon tittered, then nuzzled Lyra. "Well, when you put it that way, how can I say no?"

After-Action Retort

Princess Celestia strode through the halls of Castle Canterlot with all the grace and dignity expected of her, head held high, mane streaming behind her like a banner stitched from the dawn sky. As she entered her personal chambers, the guards on either side of the door stiffened and straightened themselves to maximum severity, which she acknowledged with a nod. Only when she shut the door behind her and layered the walls with a soundproofing spell did she let out the groan.

It was a long, heartfelt groan, starting high and descending with Celestia's posture. She held it as she threw off her regalia with carelessness that would horrify its attendants in the morning. The guttural utterance persisted as she dragged herself to her bed. It stretched on to the very limits of her lung capacity as she buried her muzzle in her pillows.

"That bad?" asked Luna.

Celestia wasn't surprised. Luna had made a habit of emerging from the shadows even before she'd discovered Batmane. The older sister just gave another, much shorter groan in response as she turned to face the younger. "It was all I could to do to mollify them. I kept thinking about all the ways we could have done it differently, all the missed opportunities."

Luna approached and nuzzled Celestia. "But we did our part. We gave the others the time they needed to find how to repair the Crystal Heart and helped them implement it."

"At the very last minute."

"It was a victory."

Celestia turned away. "Barely."

A shadow flitted over her. The mattress dipped as Luna heaved herself onto the other side. "Everypony is wise when looking back, Tia. We did the best we could at the time and nopony died, despite the efforts of some to shuffle themselves off the mortal coil through sheer thick-headedness."

"We could have done better," said Celestia, looking away, her ears drooping.

"Yes. We could have. We could have ended Sombra before he laid his curse upon the Empire. We could have anticipated Discord's escape once new Bearers attuned to the Elements. We could have talked about my grievances before my foalish tantrum. We aren't perfect. We aren't goddesses. Deathless we may be, but we are still subject to equine folly and frailty in our way." A blue aura gently tugged at Celestia's head. She let it turn her to look at Luna's smile. "So we learn. We grow. It takes us longer, for our great masses of experience are heavy loads, hard to move with any fresh impetus. But wallowing in regret is the sort of folly that leads to the like of the Tantibus. Remember what has come, Tia, but do not let it rule you. Come the next crisis—"

"And there's always a next crisis."

Luna nodded. "And when it come, we will do better. And we will not be alone."

Celestia managed a smile. "How did you manage to get some real wisdom? I could use some."

"If there is one area where I have more experience than you, dear sister, it is failure."

"I have failed at least as much as you, Luna. I—" A pillow to the muzzle cut off Celestia. "Did you just—" Another followed. The second salvo fell away to reveal a fiery gaze, the last thing many enemies of Equestria had seen. "Challenge accepted, sister."

By the time the custodial staff came in the next morning, they couldn't even see the floor under the feathers.

Author's Notes:

This was going to be the end to a separately published story, but I realized that the press conference itself was little more than a glorified headcanon dump and saw no reason to subject you all to it. If you'd like to read the cut portion, you can find it here.

Enemy Colors

An all-too-familiar flash of light made Twilight look up from her reading. Discord hovered before her, lion paw held out defensively, eagle talon behind his back. "Before you say anything, I didn't do it."

The unicorn rolled her eyes as she stood, floating her book back into its proper place in the Golden Oak’s shelves. "I don't even know what it is, but now I think you did."

"Your faith in me never ceases to amaze. But our interpersonal issues aren't the problem right now." Discord brought his talon into view, Scootaloo held in it. "This is."

Twilight tilted her head. The filly seemed rather grumpy about being held by Discord, but aside from that, she seemed fine. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? Can't you—" Discord cut himself off, his severed head doing a complete somersault before reattaching with a more thoughtful expression on it. "No, I suppose you can't. Pony eyes aren't nearly color sensitive enough to detect this sort of thing; that's why I designed the effect that way."

“What do you mean?” said Twilight as she narrowed her eyes.

“Somehow, through no fault of my own, this hyperactive hummingbird happened upon a bit of raw chaos magic. And wouldn’t you know it, it went and did to her what I did to you and your friends during our first little battle of wits.”

Twilight gasped. “You inverted her personality!?” Now that she thought about it, Scootaloo surely should’ve said something by this point, but she was still just sulking in Discord’s clutches.

Discord rolled his eyes. “No, some wandering scrap of chaos did. Probably blew out of the Everfree. Besides, if I had done it then…” His face twisted as he gritted his teeth.

“Then?”

Discord’s mouth was on top of his head by the time he brought himself to respond. “Then I’d be able to fix this myself.” He reached up with his free hand and readjusted his face. “I hate to admit any limitations, but without knowing precisely how that bit of wild magic did what it did, I could make the problem vastly worse.” He sighed. “So, go ahead, use whatever you did to undo it last time. It should work again.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes. “Is this all just a ploy to find out how I broke that spell?”

“Wha…” Discord’s mouth worked wordlessly for a few moments. “No! This is not a ploy, a ruse, a cunning stratagem, or anything other than me asking for your assistance as a friend. Is it really so hard to believe I might be concerned about the welfare of…” He snorted and shook his head. “No, no, not even I could finish that with a straight face. But Scootabout really does need help, and she's going to make me look bad until she gets it.”

“I don’t know…”

Discord threw his lion arm up into the air, where it split into confetti and began reassembling itself. “Oh, come on! What do I have to do to convince you that this is serious?”

Rainbow Dash opened the library’s door. “Hey Twi, did you get that copy of—”

“YOU!” A sound so throat-tearingly furious had no right coming out of a mouth so young, but it did. Scootaloo thrashed with all the energy she’d lacked until now, tearing herself out of Discord’s talons and pouncing on Dash before either could react.

Dash blinked. "Uh, hi, Scoots. Happy to see you—"

Scootaloo silenced her with a punch to the face. “You are the cause of all the world’s problems! You don’t care about anypony else! Constantly puffing yourself up, exploiting others, putting them in danger, belittling them, sabotaging them, everything! You’re why my parents are dead!”

Dash just stared at her for a time before saying “Your parents are fine. I just passed by them on my way here.”

“While planning to murder them! You—” Scootaloo’s rant became muffled by the magical muzzle now around her lips as Twilight floated her writhing body away from Dash.

The older pegasus got to her hooves, wavering a little until she shook her head. “So, aside from learning how Scoots has a decent right, somepony wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Twilight looked at the floor. “Chaos magic that wasn’t Discord’s fault, hard as that may be to believe.”

Discord crossed his arms. “With compliments like that, you should take up tennis.”

“In the meantime, I’m about to restore Scootaloo’s memories.”

Scootaloo managed to whip her neck fast enough to cry “History’s greatest monster!” before the muzzle caught up to her.

Discord leaned on Rainbow Dash’s withers and closed her jaw. “What do you say we agree she was talking about me?”

She nodded. “Yeah, let’s go with that.”

Author's Notes:

You can blame/thank Estee for this one.

False Negative

"And then she just stormed out of the building without even sampling the cuisine!" Rarity finished the story with a toss of her head.

Most of the others seated on the picnic blanket shook their heads and tutted, but one winced instead.

Fluttershy put a hoof on his thigh. "Is something the matter, Discord?"

"Well..." Discord fiddled with a stick of butter for bit, using it to spread raisin bread on a knife before saying, "What do you call that feeling when you realize that you're the only one having fun and that that's a bad thing?"

The mares traded uncertain looks. "Shame?" said Fluttershy.

"Regret?" Twilight tried.

After a bit of consideration, Discord shook his head. "Close, not quite."

Pinkie said, "Guilt?"

Discord beamed and nodded. "That's the one!" He leaned back, quite proud of himself. "I feel guiltish."

"Guilty," said Twilight.

"That too."

Applejack frowned. "Now why in th' hay would you feel guilty 'bout some froufrou food critic with 'er muzzle lodged up 'er own tail end?"

"Think about it." Discord starting ticking off points on his eagle talon. "Her color scheme's desaturated. Her preferences and behavior are the exact opposite of what you'd expect from a food critic. Twilight's cartographic coffee table considered her a source of disharmony on par with the collapse of a second-world city-state and a generations-old, landscape-despoiling feud."

"An' a Manehattan neighborhood what wasn't actin' neighborly."

"Hmm. Point." Discord shrugged. "Maybe the Map just gives Rarity the low-yield missions."

Rarity glared at him. "I beg your pardon!"

"Really? What did you do to need it?"

Fluttershy nudged him. "Discord."

"Right." Discord cleared his throat and dipped his head towards Rarity. "My apologies; just thinking out loud. I tend to lose my filter when I'm speculating."

"Here it is!" Pinkie Pie held up a rainbow-patterned loop filled with a irregular mess of wire mesh.

"Thank you, Pinkie." Discord took the object, swallowed it, and continued. "My point is that this Zesty Gourmand seems to have my appendageprints all over her. It says a lot that it took this long for anypony to notice. Not sure if it says more about fine dining, Canterlot, or ponies in general, but it says a lot."

Rainbow Dash looked up from her plate, having cleaned it over the course of the conversation. "Wouldn't you know if you'd done something to her or not?"

"Eh." Discord shrugged. "I could have perfect recall, but I don't. Same reason I don't have omniscience or clairvoyance. Total knowledge of the past is just as boring as total knowledge of the present or future."

"While I'm happy to see you want to take responsibility for your actions," said Twilight, "I don't think you're to blame for Zesty Gourmand's... eccentricity."

"Yeah," said Dash. "Unless you've been going around messing with ponies' heads since we let you out again, the Elements would've had to have missed her when we beat you the first time."

"True."

Twilight gave Discord an appraising look. "And you haven't been messing with anypony's head, have you?"

He grinned. "Only my friends'."

Dash wingshrugged. "Then Zesty's just a jerk."

"Oh." Discord crossed his arms, then folded the lion-furred talons over his chest. "That's... vaguely disappointing."

"The world doesn't revolve around you, Discord," said Rarity.

He grinned. "It could if I wanted it to."

Fluttershy looked to the eighth member of the picnic. "Starlight, you've been rather quiet. Are you alright?"

Starlight gave an uneasy smile. "Just... just a little shocked."

"Why's that?"

"Oh, you know, just that you're all friends with a physical god, comfortable enough to tease a being who could annihilate all of us with a thought." Starlight let out a slightly unhinged giggle.

Discord gave a much calmer smile. "As I'm sure you've noticed, Starlight, this group does an excellent job of instilling much-needed humility."

Author's Notes:

It's an interesting question: Between Zesty's behavior and color scheme, if she were discorded, could we even tell?

Where Parallel Universes Converge for Dummies

Author's Notes:

Before reading this, I strongly recommend reading both Parallel Universes for Dummies and Where Parallel Lines Converge if you haven't already.

Flash Sentry walked out of Canterlot High, head down, hands in his pockets. A shadow in front of him made him look up and smile. “I was hoping I’d see you. Do you think you could give me a bit more advice?”

A behemoth creature, like an eye almost half as large as the school that grew wings from its optic nerve after being plucked from an even greater and more horrible monstrosity, regarded him. That is to say, some of its ever-wandering pupils settling on him for almost a second at a time before resuming their mad dance. A bone-shaking ululation issued from some unseen orifice within a form that did not so much fly as not concern itself with such prosaic concerns as gravity.

“I know you’re busy, Ditzy,” said Flash. “I’ll try to make it quick.”

Countless spawn, wire-thin and many-legged, skittered towards him. They wiggled out of cracks; raced down the school’s walls; emerged from the pool of shimmering, oleaginous fluid that formed as the entity’s trailing feeding tendrils ate into the fundamental substance of Canterlot High’s front lawn. Soon the lesser expressions of Ditzy’s will surrounded Flash, gazing up at him with countless, unblinking, blueberry-sized eyes. Their density was such that the path beneath them already began to soften and deform.

Flash smiled. “Thanks. I owe you one.” He took a deep breath. “It’s… about Twilight. The Twilight from this world. We’re getting along better. She finally remembers my name, which turns out to be more than most people can say. The other day—”

One of Ditzy’s slightly greater scions, as long as Flash’s arm, shaped like a primordial sea worm or a feather from some horribly warped peacock, buzzed and squawked irritably as it undulated about him, as unconcerned with gravity as its core self.

“Right, sorry. Point is, we’re friends, and I don’t think we can be anything more with that.” Flash held up his hands. “And I’m okay with that! She’s a little awkward and still has some issues from Crystal Prep—not hard to imagine why after meeting Principal Cinch—but she’s a good person. We just don’t have the spark I felt with the other Twilight. And…” He sighed. “And I’m not sure if I want us to. Me and Twilight—“

Ditzy roared, part whale, part lion, part tectonic plate, making the windows shake. Her tendrils thrashed, splashing depleted matter for yards in every direction.

Flash rolled his eyes. “Twilight and I,” he said with exaggerated care, “never really made anything official. The other Twilight, I mean. But I know there was something there. Romance with this one… it feels like I’m trying to cheat on Twilight with her twin sister.”

He looked down. “But I can’t be with the one I want. I mean, you put it best. She’s a magical flying alien princess horse. She has more important things to worry about than some high school kid with a crush. To be honest, I have thought about being with her, but I’d be abandoning everything I know.” Flash shook his head and faced Ditzy again. “But I really do love her. What should I do?”

One of the immense feeding tendrils stirred, a delicate structure relative to Ditzy’s immensity, but still at least as thick as Flash’s entire body for much of its tapering length. The tentacle whipped about and gently brushed Flash on the shoulder.

He seized up as a wave of disorientation swept over his body. For a moment, it felt as though gravity were pulling him up, up into the infinite depths that lay within Ditzy’s gaze. His mind reeled from the brief contact, and both mad conviction and past experience told him he was gazing at the face of a god.

Flash shook his head as his much-abused sanity reassembled itself. His jacket had melted, staining his shirt in an eye-watering rainbow that would make Rarity scream at fifty paces, and yet he smiled. As he raced back inside, he shouted over his shoulder, “Thanks, Ditzy! You’re a real pal.”

Ditzy just went back to eating lunch. After all, she had until the end of the period to figure out how to fit back in the building.

Giddyup! Her Erasers

Twilight had considered and rejected many names for her new home since she’d received it. Castle Ponyville, too derivative. Sparkalon, too egocentric. The Sapling of Harmony, potentially inaccurate. Ponies had started calling it “Namepending Castle” as months passed without her coming to a decision, and part of her worried it might just become the place’s name before she could make a choice.

Today, however, the potential name that came to mind was “Friendship Castle,” because as Twilight looked at the angry mob clustered around her front door, she was all too aware that the place was not designed for withstanding a siege.

“Everypony, please!” she said, her voice magically amplified to carry over the crowd. “There’s no need to be upset!”

“There’s plenty of need to be upset!” cried Bright Eyes, so mad that she could see straight. She jabbed a hoof at Starlight, who was hiding behind Twilight. “She turned Dinky into a colt! And I’m pretty sure my name isn’t what it was two days ago!”

“At least you still had a child!” cried Silver Platter, her voice augmented only by maternal outrage. “My Silver Spoon ceased to exist entirely!”

Spiral Fracture nodded, his thick curls bouncing with the motion. “So did my Twist!”

“AND MY FEATHERWEIGHT!” boomed Bulk Biceps.

“And my Axe,” rumbled Gimlet, son of Glowing, his beard protectively wrapped around his son Axe Blade.

Cheerilee spoke calmly, but her glare had all the damning accusation she could need. “More than half of my class vanished yesterday and I didn’t even know it. This is unacceptable, Twilight.”

“I understand. But Starlight and I successfully tracked down the space-time shockwave her alterations had caused and dampened it such that its magnitude is no longer great enough to overcome even one pony’s moment of ontological inertia, which should've retroactively undone all of the previous distortions.”

The crowd’s general displeased murmuring fell silent, their scowls replaced with blank stares. Almost as one, their eyes turned to Spike.

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “They found the problem and fixed it. It won’t happen again.”

”Ohhh.”

Twilight pouted, suppressing the amplification long enough to mutter, “That’s what I said.”

Silver Platter resumed scowling, pointing at Starlight. “It still wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for her.”

Slowly, her head hung low, Starlight made her way out from behind Twilight. “You’re right,” she said. “It happened because I did something terribly foolish when I was angry and misguided and didn’t understand the consequences of my actions. And for that, I am terribly sorry. I’m still making up for it, and I hope you can all forgive me.”

Uncertain murmurs rippled through the crowd. They dispersed over the next few minutes. “She did say she was sorry,” Bright Eyes said as she flapped off.

Twilight let out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”

“No kidding.” Spike went back inside.

“This really is the friendliest town in Equestria,” said Starlight.

Twilight frowned at her. “Yes, but even they have their limits.”

“I got that much from Trixie.”

That got a wince. “Yeah. Still, this is probably the last time you’ll be able to get by with an apology.”

“I’ll hoof the line from now on.”

“Good. And remember Starswirl’s Zeroth Law of Time Travel.”

Starlight blinked. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that one. What is it?”

“Don’t.”

Honor Roll

"Defend yourself, you honorless cur!"

A stranger charged at the would-be saviors of Spiketopia, and what happened next went too fast for Garbuncle's book-weary eyes to follow. Even Captain Wuzz's keen vision barely tracked Sir McBiggen unsheathing his blade and parrying the incoming swipe in a single smooth motion.

The figure with whom the brave knight locked blades seemed his stark opposite, white and gold to McBiggen's red and black, a full helm obscuring his muzzle and heavy plate before his mark. His sword gleamed gilt as well, a stark contrast to the Black Blade. The two weapons struggled in their wielders' auras, vying for dominance.

And yet, Sir McBiggen was unshaken. His horn shone fiercely, yes, but his countenance spoke more of irritation than fear. "Say that again, knave." His magic surged, and he threw the other warrior back.

"You are the only knave here!" cried the stranger, pointing hoof and blade alike.

The black knight drew himself up to his full, imposing height. He was scarcely taller than the other unicorn, yet he seemed to tower over him through sheer indignation. "You dare besmirch the honor of Sir Banner McBiggen of the clan McBiggen?"

The stranger gave a derisive snort. "What honor can you claim, you who abandoned your liege?"

"Oh, now he's gone and done it." Captain Wuzz sighed and began digging through his belt pouches. "Well, I needed to prune my talons anyway."

Garbuncle looked back and forth between the quarrelers and his comrade. His claws anxiously clenched his staff. "But we—"

Wuzz held up his lion paw, which now held a small set of shears. "Peace, good Garbuncle. This is a matter between warriors. Neither will look kindly upon slingers of spells or arrows intruding on their dispute."

Among the unicorns, Sir McBiggen spat out, "You expect me to follow a stallion who bent his knee to the spineless Squizard?"

"I expect you to respect the vows you swore to the one who knighted you. A knighthood you no longer deserve!"

McBiggen sneered. "You choose your helms wisely. One who obeys blindly has no need to see."

The stranger said nothing, instead magically removing his helmet and letting it fall to the ground. A trio of gasps rang out as he shook out his azure mane.

"It can't be!" cried Garbuncle.

"It clearly is," noted Wuzz.

Even the indomitable Sir McBiggen took a step back. "You're..."

Eyes blue as glacial ice glared at him. "Yes. I am Heroic Legend, master paladin. And I have come to smite you for your crimes, oathbreaker."

The imperial nursery rang with innocent laughter. Cadence smiled. "It was very nice of Discord to teleport you to the Empire."

"Yeah. Almost too nice." Twilight paused to make another Pinkie-approved goofy face for Flurry Heart. "Still, I think I can trust him, especially since he asked to borrow Shining."

"Oh?" Cadence tilted her head. "Why's that?"

"Discord learned about a new aspect of role-playing games and wanted to put it into practice the first chance he got."

Cadence rolled her eyes. "Oh dear. What is it?"

Twilight shut her eyes and considered the havoc no doubt ensuing even as they spoke. Despite herself, she couldn't help but grin. "PvP."

Author's Notes:

That's "player vs. player" for those of you who don't recognize the lingo.

And really, given Shining's hobbies, how could I not write this?

Double Standard

Everyone who Gabby had helped attended her cuteceñera. Given her use of the Crusaders' old "Try everything" strategy, that covered most of the town, as did the celebration itself. Confetti flew, music played, and the town's resident princess sulked at one of Le Pâturage's mushroom tables, her only company a glass of sadly non-alcoholic punch.

"Hey, Twilight."

She perked up at the greeting. "Starlight! What have you been up to?"

"I ran out of excuses, so Rainbow Dash made sure I wasn't going to bed tonight without knowing precisely who and what the Wonderbolts are." Starlight sat by Twilight's side. "And somehow, you seem more run down than I feel. Are you okay?"

"Oh, you know. Just found out that there wasn't a discovery that would make us question everything we thought we knew about cutie marks. After gearing up for a massive research project. And coming up with the perfect title for the journal article: 'When the Hoof of Destiny is a Talon: Cutiesynthesis in Non-Equinoids.'" Twilight sighed and brought her head back onto the table. "I suppose I should be grateful that the Crusaders told me the truth before I finished drafting my letter to Princess Celestia."

"Yeah, definitely could've been worse," Starlight said with a sigh of her own.

Twilight's ear perked up at that. She straightened up a moment later. "Are you okay?"

"Well..." Starlight bit her lip. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course. You're my student." Twilight smirked. "And technically speaking, you already did."

Starlight rolled her eyes despite her smile. "Right." Her expression fell. "Did you... tell anypony in Ponyville about, you know, what I did before I became your student?"

"That's..." Twilight gaze went distant as she thought. "Well, that's actually kind of complicated."

"It is?"

"Well, I told the other princesses what you did in Our Town, of course. You were a frighteningly powerful and ingenious mage capable of mutilating souls because you never thought to get your one friend's mailing address." Twilight shut her eyes, trembling and breathing heavily.

After a few moments, Starlight said, "No offense?"

Twilight shuddered. "Right. Yeah. Sorry, it's just..." She shook her head. "That night in that shack with the propaganda on a constant loop was... Well, I try not to think about it too often. Where was I?"

"I was a horrible equine being?"

Twilight grimaced. "Harsher than I intended, but... yes. In any case, at the time, you were still at large and the nation needed to be able to defend itself against you. So the police here in Ponyville probably recognize you as a once nationally wanted criminal prior to the royal pardon." Twilight smiled. "You know, all two policeponies."

Starlight started to nod, but paused halfway through. "Wait, if I was nationally wanted, then why was I able to walk through Canterlot with impunity?"

"You were able to what?"

"You remember that time you were reconnecting with your friends from school? I kind of spied on your dinner conversation."

Twilight facehoofed and groaned. "If Celestia swept this under the rug, I swear, we will be having words. Don't get me wrong, I respect her as much as I ever did, but it seems like that mare just waits for half of her problems to die." She gasped. "Oh! No offense."

Starlight shrugged. "I've suspected as much for a while. Why do you think I was indoctrinating the next generation?" She sighed. "But enough about my lesser atrocities. What about nearly destroying Equestria?"

"That actually presents a fascinating moral quandary. Depending on how time works, either none of your actions actually lasted for longer than a few minutes, or even if they did, they didn't actually impact this timeline."

"Which totally absolves her of all guilt whatsoever."

Both turned to the source of the third muttered voice. Twilight beamed. "Lyra! I didn't see you there. Did you say something?"

Lyra returned the smile as she walked away. "Just passing by and saying hi."

"Such a nice mare. Don't know how I could ever lose touch with her." Twilight turned back to Starlight. "Anyway, while your actions were terrible, they didn't cause any lasting harm as far as we'll ever know. Given your genuine repentance, I felt that it would be best if Ponyville didn't know about the whole 'accidental omnicide' thing. I mean, I'd be a pretty terrible Princess of Friendship if I couldn't accept the apology of a mare who finally understood how badly she'd messed up and who truly wanted to amend her ways. Does that answer your question?"

"The one I asked you, yes," said Starlight, "but it still leaves me with one."

"What?"

"Why is it when I make a cake instantaneously, I'm threatening the Cakes' livelihood, but when a griffon does it, ponies literally sing her praises?"

The Simple Solution

Discord groaned for what felt like the twentieth time as the group made their way towards the changeling citadel. "This would be so much easier if it weren’t a hostage situation."

Trixie gritted her teeth."What would make it easier would be certain draconequuses piping down for once!"

"For your information, the proper plural is 'draconequodes.'"

"Besides, you're only making it harder on yourself by talking as you walk."

"So are you."

Starlight cut in before Trixie could say anything beyond incoherent growls. "What do you mean, Discord?"

"You don't get to be the Spirit of Chaos without a decent imagination. If Queen Bugbutt really thinks one little null-magic zone could stop me, she’d have another thing coming. It’s simple: I’d just have to go into space, find a pre-existing meteor, and send it hurtling down on her tacky little castle. That hunk of nullstone she’s squatting on might drain magic, but it can’t do anything against mundane momentum. Next thing you know, BAM!" Discord smacked his talon into his paw. "No more throne. Or much of anything else for that matter. Rocks fall, everyling dies, just like my usual Ogres & Oubliettes game."

"So why don’t you do it?" said Trixie.

Discord gave her a long, disbelieving look. Slowly, as though speaking to a very thick foal, he said, "I already said why. It’s a hostage situation." He thrust an arm towards the castle. "Fluttershy’s in there!" After a moment, he added, "And, you know, some other ponies. Like Fluttershy’s friends, and literally every alicorn, including Flurry-Come-Lately. They could survive the impact normally, but doing it while they're in what amounts to a dead magic zone may be asking a bit much."

"Oh." Trixie drooped. "Right."

Discord ruffled her mane, smirking all the while. "You see, the thing those of us who have any actual magical power have to learn is that our actions have consequences. Granted, enough power and you can sidestep a lot of those consequences, but reassembling ponies after a meteor strike? I’d really rather not go through the trouble."

"Wait up, you two!"

Discord and Trixie both started and looked behind them, to where Starlight was attending to a wide-eyed Thorax. "Are you okay?" Starlight asked him.

He stared at Discord, his face a portrait of naked horror. "You… you really could’ve done that at any time?"

“Hmm?" Discord gasped in comprehension. "Oh! Yes, the gruesome deaths of all your friends and loved ones. Wait, no, most of them live in the Crystal Empire. All your acquaintances and hatchmates. Doesn’t have quite the same ring to it, does it?"

Starlight scowled at him. "Discord, this is serious."

"It wasn't already?" Discord turned back to Thorax. "You shouldn't be so concerned. Normally, I wouldn’t bother. Death is so final. The only change that come after that is decomposition, and all that’s good for is gross-out humor. Not my usual style. Besides, effort." He stuck his tongue out. "All the calculations, actually having to find the right hunk of space rock instead of just making one, getting the angle just right... No, I'd only do it if it were truly important, and I refuse to dignify Chrysalis with any kind of actual exertion of my will, as though she were a threat."

"I thought you were holding back because the yellow one was in there," said Trixie.

Discord shrugged. "Spirit of Chaos. You really expect me to be consistent?"

"You're a consistent pain in my flank."

"Spirit of Disharmony as well."

Starlight rolled her eyes. Thorax looked back and forth between the bickerers. "You really think we can do this?"

"We're Equestria's last hope. It doesn't matter whether we can do this; we need to." Starlight sighed. "That's what I keep telling myself, anyway."

Author's Notes:

Just a little thought exercise. It also handily explains why Discord didn't turn Chrysalis into literal cheese at the end; that would be admitting she was a threat rather than a nuisance.

P.A.A.R. (Pony After-Action Report)

Applejack looked about the boat and its occupants, friends all, though she hadn't been speaking to two of them a few minutes earlier. "I gotta say, Twilight, you answered darn near everything."

Twilight frowned. "Why the qualifier?"

"Well, you cleared up what was us not sharin' our plans with each other and what was the bunyip havin' lunch, but I still got one question."

"What?"

"You grew up in Canterlot. Middle-of-the-continent, side-of-a-mountain Canterlot. When did you learn how to sail a boat?"

Twilight grinned. It started small and grew, not so much slowly as inexorably.

"Well, what about you?" blurted Spike. "Everypony said you were sailing the other boat, Miss 'Ponyville, born and bred.'"

Pinkie giggled on her perch atop the bunyip's head. "Not that we got out of the harbor."

The grin collapsed as Twilight put a hoof to her chin. "I was wondering about that."

Applejack drew herself up and, in an accent that spoke of high rises and citric acid, said, "I may not have spent much time in Manehattan, but I still received something of an education, including a simply lovely jaunt aboard my uncle's yacht."

"I keep forgetting you can do that," said a flushed Rarity.

Applejack shifted her hat over her eyes. "Well, ain't like I go 'round remindin' ponies. Still, that's me. What's your story, Twi?"

The smile began anew.

"Come on, girls, it's Twilight. She probably read it in a book. Heh heh." Spike's grin tried make up in teeth what it lacked in sincerity. "Right, Twilight?"

"Oh no, Spike." The grin had reached Pinkie proportions.

"Oh no is right," Spike said, a look of purest despair in his eyes.

"After all..."

He turned to the others. "Everypony, I am so sorry."

"... I know all about..."

"I tried to save you from this."

"... the greatest ship of all." Twilight reared up and spread her forelegs. "Friendship!"

Even the bunyip groaned.

Word of the Doomsday

The Plain of Hades was usually a nice place. It was out of the way no matter where you were in Equestria, but once there, it offered prime picnicking real estate, so long as somepony didn't mind staring at the enormous obsidian protrusion that marked the gates of Tartarus.

Today, Twilight thought as she dodged bile-colored lightning bolts from the churning hellstorm above, is decidedly unusual.

The other alicorns were too far away to help. Her friends couldn't safely enter the area amid the arcane radiation. Discord was disorganizing his sock drawer. It was just her and the crazed unicorn standing in the middle of a pentagram of acid-green flames, howling out an incantation that swirled the clouds over Tartarus. Judging by the volume of her personal Nightmare's whispers in her mind, Twilight estimated that she had a few minutes before the storm delivered a bolt that would shatter the black glass mountain and let all of its inmates free.

"Please!" she cried, the Royal Canterlot Voice drowning out even the literally shrieking winds that whipped against her body, "why are you doing this?"

The warlock glared up, dark magic seeping out of her eyes and horn as she paused her incantation. The wind stilled enough for her to shout, "Are you familiar with onomamancy, Princess?"

"You mean the name-as-fate hypothesis?" Despite herself, Twilight couldn't help but slip into a lecturing rhythm. "I've never put much stock in it. I mean, ponies with names similar to mine do tend to be powerful unicorns, but that seems largely coincidental."

The other mare sneered. "You may not believe, Princess, but I do. My name sealed my fate long ago. Look around you. What else could I make of my life with a name like Sclera?"

Twilight just blinked and flapped for a few seconds. Finally, she said, "Uh, become an optometrist?"

"What?"

"'Sclera' is the technical term for the whites of your eyes."

Sclera's own eyes darted about. "I-isn't it the name of the stygian queen of the fourth circle of Tartarus?"

"I'm not sure if Tartarus has circles. I am sure about the eye thing, though. Going out from the center, it goes pupil, iris, sclera."

"But... but..." Sclera slumped to the ground, her gaze vacant.

Twilight landed and voiced a hunch. "Do you by chance have siblings who are a teacher and a florist?"

"What have I done with my life?"

Defined it through a misunderstanding that you could've resolved with a dictionary, thought a small part of Twilight's mind. She ignored it and sent out a soothing wave of magic that extinguished the blazing sigil as she approached. Kneeling, she put a hoof under Sclera's chin and brought up the unicorn's eyes to meet her own. "Nothing we can't fix together."

"But the sacrifices—"

"Almost nothing we can't fix together."

"And that, my faithful student," said Twilight, "was my fastest villain reformation thus far."

Author's Notes:

If this resembles the Season 8 finale, I will not be even remotely surprised.

Also, Sclera's parents were nerdy ophthalmologists with terrible communication skills.

Eee En Vee Why

Trixie sighed as Saturday stretched before her, offering nothing. Her so-called friends both had dates. Her scooter was in the shop for a replacement part that was apparently being shipped from Magic Horseland, given how long it was taking to arrive. She was even out of peanut butter crackers.

Which was just how Trixie liked it. It meant she had a chance to check her EweTube subscriptions, and sure enough, she found a video less than an hour old. "Might as well," she grumbled, clicking the link.

After the blessedly skippable ad, the video began, showing a violet-skinned man with crazed hair behind a news desk. "Hello, I'm Lunatic Fringe and this is News of the Odd. Breaking news today from the not-so-sleepy suburb of Canterlot, Califoalnia, which is quickly becoming Weirdsville, FSA. We're getting reports of a nine-foot woman in an evening gown terrorizing a local mall." Blurry phone video started playing, showing what did seem to be a very large woman approaching the screen. "Officials have not yet responded to inquiries on the subject, but videos are coming to EweTube in droves." The video cut back to a smirking Lunatic. "And yes, Samuel Supercluster references abound. More on the story as it develops."

Trixie glared at the window, now just offering her related videos. The same woman looked out at her from several thumbnails. Somehow, the shakiness of the phone cameras that had captured the video was making it to the still images.

After a moment, Trixie realized that that was her vibrating with rage.

She snatched her phone off her desk and finger-jabbed her way through her contacts, gritting her teeth all the while. She paced about her room as she waited for the other person to pick up.

They finally did, with a sigh that only stoked the fires of Trixie's fury. "Are you an autocaller?"

"No, Trixie is not an autocaller!"

"Trixie?" said Sunset Shimmer. "How did you get this number?"

"Trixie asked the pink one. That isn't important. What is is that you had another magical adventure!"

"I... guess." To think, Shimmer had the nerve to sound hesitant! "I wouldn't really call it an ad—"

"And Trixie wasn't even there to see it!"

All hesitance left Shimmer. "What."

"Trixie is living vicariously through you girls and your access to the actual arcane, and you don't even have the common decency to face horrors beyond mortal comprehension where and when she can appreciate it anymore!"

"Trixie, I nearly fell into an infinite abyss today," said Sunset, as though that weren't amazing.

"And Trixie wasn't there to appreciate it!"

Shimmer was silent for a stretch, long enough that by the time she spoke, Trixie was about to check for a disconnected call. "I think we need to talk."

"We most certainly do." Trixie crossed her arms. Well, an arm; the other was holding the phone. Then she realized Shimmer couldn't appreciate it and just said, "Trixie doesn't think you properly appreciate our relationship, Shimmer."

"Do you listen to yourself when you talk?"

"Trixie tries not to make a habit of it. Now, she is going to find you, and you are going to introduce her to the giant woman—you did befriend the giant woman, didn't you?"

Trixie chose to believe Shimmer wasn't rolling her eyes. "She's not giant anymore, but yes."

"Good enough. You are going to introduce me to her, and then I will get to feel like I have some tiny sliver of importance in this world."

Another pause, but this time Trixie could hear discussion on the other end, though too far away from Shimmer's phone to make out. "We're in front of CHS. Pinkie has tissues if you need them."

"I won't." Trixie sniffed. There was pollen. Invisible pollen. "Thanks."

"Not a problem. I think this will be good for you."

Trixie bit her lip. "Could... could I get a ride there?"

"Of course. Pinkie and I will be there in five minutes. We'll bring someone else who I think you'll be happy to meet."

"The giant woman?"

"Better."

Six minutes and twenty-seven seconds later—not that Trixie was counting or anything—Shimmer's car pulled up in front of Trixie's house. Trixie looked through the passenger side window warily. "Did you have to bring the pink one?"

Shimmer gave a sheepish smile. "I didn't actually know where you live."

"I know where everyone at school lives!" the pink one said from next to her.

"That's extremely disturbing." Trixie got in the back and looked at the girl next to her. She definitely didn't resemble the giant woman. "So, who are you supposed to be?"

"I'm Starlight Glimmer. I'm a magical unicorn from Equestria."

It took about ten minutes for Trixie to calm down enough for Sunset to start the drive back.

Author's Notes:

After four movies, human Trixie has internalized her status as a background character. She doesn't like it, but that's where the friendship comes in. And the experienced Trixie handler.

Or, put another way:

All Trixie wants to do
Is see you rainbow-nuke
A giant woman (A giant woman.)
Yes, Trixie wants to be
A girl who gets to see
A giant woman.

(Oh, and FSA stands for Federated States of Amareica, because I may like applying the Bland Name Product principle to Equestria Girls a bit too much.)

Namesmithing

Grand Pear strode to his latest innovation, savoring the warm glow that came with knowing he was beating the Apples at their own game. This was sure to be the idea that knocked that arrogant bunch off their pedestal and established pears as the crop that defined Ponyville.

Once he was at the new stand, he said, “How are we looking, Harrow?”

His nephew Harrow Sweet bit his lip. “Well, Uncle Grand…”

“Don’t give me the raw numbers, just tell me, did we sell twice as much as the Apples or thrice?”

Harrow shuffled in place for a few moments before saying “Four.”

Grand Pear beamed. “Four times as much! Celestia’s hooves, Harrow, I knew you’d be a good salespony, but—“

“No, Uncle Grand. Four customers.”

After a few moments of standing silently, Grand got out a “What?”

“We only sold four tankards of pear cider, Uncle. Everypony else lined up for the apple stuff.”

“No.“ Grand shook his head, slowly crumpling to a sitting position. “No, that can’t be right. I was sure that—“

“That y’all could out-cider the Apples?”

That voice. That hateful voice. Grand Pear shot back up and glared at his nemesis. “You.”

Granny Smith stuck out her tongue at him like she was six. “Don’t go blamin’ me fer fool thinkin’ like that. Yer head must be softer’n yer pears.” She high-stepped her way back down the road, prancing like a filly taking dressage classes.

Harrow Sweet gulped and looked back to Grand Pear. “Uh, Uncle?”

Grand barely heard his nephew. He reared up and gave a shout filled with his impotent rage. “GRAAAAAAN!”

“Uh—“

“GRAAAAAAN!”

“Hang on a sec,” said Apple Bloom. She looked to Granny Smith, who sat in her rocking chair like Celestia on her throne, holding court over the living room. “Yer name really was Granny Smith even when you was, what, in yer thirties?”

Granny glared at Grand Pear, though there was a smile on her lips. “Actually, it was this old coot what gave me that nickname.”

He gave a soft smile and murmured, “I thought I saw a gray hair one day.”

“When I was nineteen years old? What, didja have yer ma in yer eyes?”

“Behave, you two,” said Applejack.

“Pfft.” Granny waved her off. “This is just friendly bickerin’. Point is, soon every Pear in Ponyville was callin’ me ‘Granny.’ Then the townsfolk started joinin’ in, and next thing y’ know, even mah own kin was sayin’ it if they wasn’t watchin’ themselves.”

Big Macintosh rumbled in thought. “So ya learned t’ deal with it?”

“Heck no! I boxed the ears o’ any Apple fool enough t’ say it to mah face.” Granny's sneer softened to a wistful look. “Wasn’t ’til I got t’ know yer ma that I got over mahself.”

“Why is that?” said Grand Pear.

“She’d been callin’ me that her whole life. Didn’t know better; Bright Mac thought it was th’ funniest thing he’d ever heard. When she called me that…” Granny shook her head. “Well, she’d already lost a pa. I couldn’t be too mad.” She snorted. “‘Sides, it’d be less’n a year before she made me live up to the name. Good thing those two got married when they did, or—”

“Granny!” said Applejack, hooves over Apple Bloom’s ears.

“Pfft. She lives on a farm, Applejack. If she don’t know this stuff, I oughtta have a word with that teacher o’ hers.”

“I just don’t wanna hear that about Mom an’ Dad,” said Apple Bloom, her complexion approaching her grandmother’s.

And the family, Apple, Pear, and both, shared a laugh.

Author's Notes:

Why yes, I have been sitting on this one for more than a month. And yes, the pun doesn't exactly work. Still, this idea seemed too good to pass up.

On Trichomancy

Rarity entered Namepending Castle, once again wishing they'd picked a name for the thing rather than putting it off for so long that the nickname stuck. Indeed, lost opportunities seemed to be a theme of the day. She'd made the most of her mane, but losing the Vanity Mare shoot did sting.

And with regret came reflection...

Twilight wasn't hard to spot; Rarity simply had to make a beeline for the main library and there she was, sitting in a crystalline chair at one of the reading tables, a pile of paperwork before her and something far more enticing sitting on one corner.

"Oh my," said Rarity. "Is that a Mare's Day bouquet?"

"Huh?" Twilight looked up, her eyes bleary with bureaucracy as she refocused. "Oh, hi, Rarity. Didn't hear you come in." She looked at the bouquet, a lovely arrangement covering a broad swath of the color wheel, and rolled her eyes. "Don't read too much into it. I'm ninety-nine percent sure that Cadence sent it to make me think I had a secret admirer."

Rarity considered the incarnate demigoddess who more than half of Ponyville and a fair amount besides desired. "And the other one percent?"

"Same scenario, but it's my mother who sent the bouquet." Twilight pulled a red rose out of it and stuffed the blossom in her mouth. "Wan' thum?"

"No thank you, I just ate. I do hope I’m not interrupting.”

Twilight shook her head as she dipped her quill. “Not at all. Celestia just sent some of the less critical proposals for me to approve or deny.”

Rarity couldn't help but grin. “Still the Princess of Interns?”

Twilight gave a small giggle. “Kind of, yeah. Can't believe I called myself that.” She bit her lip and glanced back at Rarity. “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you, that’s an amazing look, but what is that jacket made from?”

“Oh, this?" Rarity posed at the best angle for the article. "If you think I’m generous, you should see how cattle treat organ donation. You see—”

“I think I get it.” Poor Twilight. Green was not her color.

“Yes, well." Rarity coughed into a fetlock. "In any case, I actually came here to ask a question of my own, if you aren’t too busy.”

Twilight smiled and slid out of her chair. “I always have time for a friend, Rarity." She gave a quick hug. "What is it?”

“Well, I know you said mane magic was tricky, but once I wasn’t panicking about the Vanity Mare shoot, I took some time to think about it. What about that mustache spell?”

Twilight tilted her head. “What about it?”

Rarity waited a moment for Twilight to make the obvious connection. After the moment came and went, she continued. “Well, it creates hair, doesn’t it? How would that be different from restoring my mane?”

Another second or two of blank incomprehension passed before Twilight gasped. “Oh! I can see why you’d be confused. That spell doesn’t create a mustache, it summons one.”

“Summons? From where?”

“The Elemental Demiplane of Mustaches.”

Rarity blinked. “I’m sorry, the what?”

Twilight gave the smile that heralded an imminent lecture. Her horn lit up, and a blackboard standing near one of the walls rolled up behind her. “There are all kinds of random little dimensional pockets floating around our universe. I suspect they’re a relic of Discord’s reign." Chalk floated behind her and began sketching something like Sweetie Belle would get by blowing bubbles in milk. "There a demiplane of mustaches, nitrogen, ranch dressing—“

“Ranch dressing?”

Twilight nodded and drew a rune that somehow managed to capture the symbolic essence of buttermilk. “It comes up a lot more often than you’d think in advanced arcane studies.”

“This sort of thing is why I never bothered to learn anything more advanced than Phosphorus’s Fabulous Phantasm," Rarity said with a sigh. "I mean no offense, Twilight, but there are times when magic seems downright nonsensical.”

Twilight froze, turning her head ever so slowly to look back. “As opposed to the perfectly rational world of fashion.”

“What precisely are you imply—“

“Rarity! Thank Celestia I found you!”

Both mares turned to see a panting earth stallion, his avant garde spectacles all askew.

“Starstreak?" said Rarity. "Whatever is the matter?”

“It’s terrible! Inky Rose has… has..." Starstreak shuddered and spouted, "Run out of black!”

Rarity gasped. “Twilight, I’m afraid I must go. This is an emergency. Ta!”

Excellent friend that she was, Rarity chose to ignore the parting, “Yup. Perfectly rational.”

Author's Notes:

I don't have a problem. I can stop creating pocket universes whenever I want. And/or stealing lovingly borrowing them from Rich Burlew.

Discography

Twilight knocked on the duplex's door, sorting through the questions in her head one last time. Well, she supposed it technically wasn't a duplex, given the single entrance, but when the house was all but physically split down the middle, it was hard to think of it as anything else.

The opening door interrupted her train of thought before it could pull further away from Ponyville, revealing a shocked grey earth mare. "Princess Twilight!" She bowed.

Twilight held back her sigh. Bowing ponies always took those in the worst way. "You know you don't have to do that, Octavia."

"Be that as it may," Octavia said as she rose, "I can only imagine what my mother would say if I were to say to a reigning princess, 'Oh, afternoon, Twilight, care for a spot of tea?'"

Twilight raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you grow up on the rock farm next to Pinkie's?"

"Yes, and my mother was still more Bittish than cold baked beans on toast." Octavia met her brow for brow. "What's your point?"

"Never mind," Twilight said quickly. "I don't suppose that offer for tea still stands?"

"Of course!" Octavia stepped back from the doorway. "Come in, come in, I always have time for the local princess."

Twilight followed her through the musical instrument-laden living room and into a similarly bisected kitchen. Octavia pulled out a kettle while Twilight examined what was either a sound system or a bleeding-edge electromantic dishwasher.

"Careful with that. It'll shake the teeth out of your head if you're not."

Twilight made for the kitchen table. "Duly noted. What is it?"

"I'm not sure myself. Vinyl's gotten it to do everything from make omelettes to file her taxes." Octavia opened one of the jars next to the thankfully recognizable stove. "I hope Wranglish breakfast tea will do. All I have at the moment."

"Sounds great!"

"Wonderful." Octavia got out an infuser. Once she filled it with the loose tea, she said. "Now, not that I'm not pleased to have you here, but why exactly did you come?"

"I was hoping you could settle a question about your roommate," said Twilight.

Octavia's ears flattened. "Oh dear. What did she do?"

"Nothing." After a moment of thought, Twilight added, "That I know of, anyway. I just wanted to know why DJ-PON3 never speaks."

"Ah. That." Octavia sat opposite Twilight. "Firstly, you do know that's not her legal name, yes?"

"Yes, but it seems like she prefers it."

Octavia shook her head. "Princess, speaking from long experience with Vinyl, let me assure you, if you base your interactions with her on what she prefers, you'll never get anywhere with her."

"I'll make a note of that. Still, you wouldn't believe some of the rumors around town. Some say she's mute. Some say she's deaf as Beat Hoofen. Some say she starts a musical number every time she opens her mouth. I figured Pinkie Pie would have the answer in her party dossiers, but her mane went flat and she muttered something about 'the wrath of Those Who Watch.' Then she locked herself in her room. Normally, that would be where I'd declare the matter a Thing Pony Was Not Meant to Know..." Twilight trailed off, her pupils contracting to pinpricks. "And at this point, I'm starting to ask myself why I didn't."

A smile spread across Octavia's muzzle. "Well, rest assured, it's nothing so dramatic as any of that. To understand Vinyl, you need to know about her grandfather."

Twilight considered that just as the kettle started whistling. She mulled it over as Octavia brought the kettle to the table and put in the tea. Still, by the time the other pony sat back down, all she could say was, "Her grandfather?"

Octavia nodded. "Yes. Old Scratch."

Twilight tilted her head. "Who would name their foal after a folk name for Prince Morningstar the Fallen?"

"Hopefully no one. Vinyl's grandfather is Prince Morningstar."

After a few moments of naked incomprehension, Twilight said, "We're talking about the same Prince Morningstar, right? Celestia and Luna's uncle? The alicorn so powerful that Tartarus was created specifically to contain him when he fell to madness?"

"The same, yes."

Several years ago, Twilight would've practically screeched with incredulity. Exposure to numerous ancient evils and Pinkie Pie meant that she calmly said, "I feel like there's a deeper story here."

Octavia shrugged and removed the infuser. "Not much of one," she said as she poured. "Her grandmother, Rosemary, was in some manner of cult, and they went on a pilgrimage to Tartartus or summoned some vestige of Prince Morningstar or suchlike. Whatever the case, one thing led to another, and Rosemary had Vinyl's mother, Chalkboard Scratch." She picked up her teacup, possibly trying to hide her smirk. "There's a joke to made there about Vinyl's taste in music."

"Maybe, but I'm not quite past the whole tiefling thing."

"Tiefling?"

"Less than half demon."

"Ah."

"So, did Chalkboard..." Twilight took a sip of her own tea to give herself time to think. It didn't help much. "I don't know, did she do anything especially evil?"

"Not that I've ever heard," said Octavia. "Huge disappointment to her mother, apparently. No glorious plan to overthrow her cousins—"

A tremendous effort of will kept Twilight from spraying Octavia with tea. "Oh my goodness, Vinyl is Celestia's niece."

"First cousin once removed, actually."

Twilight winced at the mistake. "Right. Sorry, it's the shock." She felt the corners of her mouth turn up in spite of herself. "I can actually kind of see the family resemblance now that I think about it."

Octavia nodded, her own smile looking much more natural. "Funny, isn't it? Like if Princess Celestia had Princess Luna's mane. Well, the one we saw back during the thousandth Summer Sun Celebration, anyway. Where was I?"

"Vinyl's mother being not evil."

"Ah, yes. Lovely mare. Always a treat when she comes to visit. So, Chalkboard settled down with a pleasantly eccentric stallion, and in time, they had Vinyl." Octavia trailed off, looking away from Twilight, a hoof tapping the floorboards in steady time. "And it turned out some things skip a generation."

"How so?"

"Well, Vinyl isn't evil, per se. Brusque, impulsive, irreverent..." Octavia's expression turned apologetic even as she said, "A devil-may-care attitude, if you'll pardon the pun."

Twilight waved it off. "Pinkie Pie is one of my best friends. I pardon puns reflexively."

"But unfortunately, Vinyl did pick up one thing from her grandfather, a terribly thick Tartaran accent."

Twilight blinked. "That... isn't how accents work."

"It is with that one. You see, anything Vinyl says sounds like the Black Speech of the Pit, even when it isn't. Actually a lovely language when you hear it recorded; it's only when spoken live that it makes you writhe on the ground and speak in tongues." Octavia frowned for a moment. "Apparently that sort of thing gets worse when the listener has stronger magic. I don't recommend asking Vinyl yourself."

After some thought and some more tea, Twilight said, "Is this a prank?"

Octavia bolted to her hooves. "Your Highness! I understand that your friends from before your coronation may feel comfortable treating you as they had before, but I would never do anything so crass as play a practical joke on royalty."

"Sorry!" said Twilight, hooves raised before her. "It's just... kind of hard to believe."

"Try playing some of Vinyl's tracks backwards. She slips in letters to her grandfather in most of them."

Twilight pondered that for a moment before nodding. "Okay. Then this confirms one of my earlier hypotheses."

"About Vinyl?" said Octavia.

"About Ponyville. Everypony in this town is, in fact, crazy."

Author's Notes:

Because it's a history of Vinyl.

This is one of those Athenian ideas that spring out of your head fully formed. I could probably expand it a bit further with some earlier scenes and why Twilight asked the question in the first place, but I have other projects that I'd much rather focus on right now. So, on the pile it goes.

Octavia growing up on a rock farm is an evolution of an ancient bit of fanon that believed she was actually Marble Pie. Vinyl starting a musical number with every word comes from Masterweaver. The hyper-advanced dishwasher naturally comes from the classic Epic Wub Time. "Those Who Watch" were borrowed from Jordan179, who borrowed them from Alex Warlorn, and are just the audience of the show from the perspective of the ponies: unknowable, otherwordly entities who observe Equestria for their own inscrutable purposes.

Isn't being an eldritch horror fun?

Oh, and the whole darn thing was inspired by SaintAbsol's The Necromantic Adventures of Lyra Heartstrings, for reasons that will be clear if you read it.

Also, my apologies to any Brits for misrepresentation, perpetuation of stereotypes, or general stupid American things.

Ring Toss of Fiendship

Author's Notes:

The following contains mild spoilers for Rollercoaster of Friendship/Me, My Selfie, and I. Rest assured that this is not how events actually play out.

Twilight Sparkle had faced many challenges in her young life, ones that she never thought she would confront. Magic-crazed young women, existential crises from meeting her parallel universe analogue, regular socialization with members of her peer group... At the start of her last year at Crystal Prep, she would've never guessed that she might confront any of those scenarios, much less triumph over all of them.

She also would've never guessed that out of all of the things that would make her admit defeat, it would be physics.

"I don't understand," she muttered, slumped in front of the ring toss booth. Her vision swam as she tried to look over the equations that should have dictated iteration after iteration of the game, each try coming so close, but never settling on a bottle's neck. Some of the blur came from simple fatigue. Some came from tears. "I took everything into account. Everything. This is the most accurate model I can make with pen and paper." She shut her eyes. Who cared if she got the pages wet? They were as useless as she was. "I'm sorry, Sunset. I never should've gotten us into this."

She felt an arm wrap around her shoulders, bandaged fingers gingerly wrapping around hers. "It's not your fault, Twilight," Sunset said from next to her. "I'm the one who was so stubborn that I couldn't just let things go or cut our losses. We could've been spending all day exploring the park. Instead, we just... stood here." Sunset rested her head on Twilight's shoulder. "At least we did it together."

"Yeah." Twilight smiled. Sunset had been with her through it all, from guiding her through her first faltering steps towards being with friends to explaining Equestria—the actual nation full of magic ponies, not the animation company—to giving her the confidence to stand up to those who'd abuse that world's magic.

Wait a second...

Twilight hesitated. She liked to think of herself as a good person. What she now considered was irresponsible, immoral, and even potentially dangerous.

Then she looked at Sunset's eyes and saw a blend of disappointment and self-loathing that eclipsed everything she'd felt after failing.

"Screw it," said Twilight, disentangling herself from Sunset and getting back to her feet.

Sunset looked up at her, her gaze no doubt alarmed by what was strong language coming from the other girl. "Twilight?"

One of the lanky, sallow-skinned brothers sighed. "Honestly, miss, haven't you had enough?"

"Or did you want to account for quantum something-or-other this time around?" said the other.

Twilight dismissed the admittedly tantalizing possibility with some difficulty and brought her magic to bear. Every ring rose as one and arrayed themselves over the bottles.

Sunset rose with them. A weary smirk crossed her face. "Kind of obvious in hindsight."

A ring gently lowered itself onto each bottle. Twilight nodded. "There."

One of the brothers cleared his throat. "Well now, miss, that's very impressive, but hardly—"

The rings shuddered. Twilight snarled. The edges of her vision went green. Her aura encompassed the bottles as well, felt out the magnets hidden in most of them that had pushing the rings off their necks. With a single wrench and the sound of cracking glue, Twilight tore them off. The rings settled down in the weaker magnetic field, though Twilight's sight was still rimmed with vivid energy.

"Oh," said Sunset. Only then did Twilight register the other girl's hand atop her own. "So that's how you did it." Twilight watched the whites of Sunset's eyes blacken, idly wondering about the biology behind such a phenomenon. And the beauty.

The brothers looked back and forth between the girls and each other. Slowly, without saying a word, they brought down one of the largest plushies in the booth, an enormous white winged unicorn, and handed it to the girls.

Twilight smiled and took hold of it in her magic. "Thank you, gentlemen." She passed it to Sunset, who was turning a lovely shade of red. "For you, my dear."

They walked off hand in hand, magic crackling between them and the plushie walking behind, animated in a moment of whimsy.

To their credit, they went a whole three minutes before furiously making out.

Stuffy Lies the Head

Rainbow Dash grinned as she glided to a landing before the Golden Oaks' front door. She wouldn't normally be up so soon after the morning weather shift, but today was a very special occassion. "Yo, Twilight!" she said even as she knocked. "First flight lesson's today! Don't think I'm letting you off the hook just 'cause you managed a spin in a heartsong; everypony knows those don't count!"

The purple figure who answered the door wasn't the one she'd hoped for. Spike looked like he'd had a rough night. Dash hadn't even known dragons could get bags under their eyes. "Sorry, Rainbow. Twilight's not available right now. Like, super not available."

She snorted and tried to peak behind him and up the stairs. "Oh really? And what's her excuse? Too many 'How to be a Princess' books to read?"

He gave her the kind of flat look that needs slit pupils to pull off properly. "She's sick."

"Uh huh. With lazyitis, I bet." Dash spread her wings, ready to go over Spike's head.

"No!" The sudden shout startled her enough to ground her, some undercurrent reminding her that dragons used to eat a lot more than just gems. "Trust me, you do not want to go in there. Twilight's come down with feather flu, hoof blight, cirrus fever, Ahuizotl's revenge—"

Dash held up a hoof once she was able to tell herself the roar hadn't really happened. "Okay, I'm calling horseapples. I haven't even heard of half of those, and I've read every Daring Do book."

Spike sighed and massaged his temples. "Because they're diseases that only affect earth ponies. Twilight's an alicorn now, so she has the properties of all the tribes."

Dash rolled her eyes. "Duh, everypony knows that."

"Including all of the vulnerabilities of the tribes. Most of them are covered by another tribe's strengths, but not when it comes to diseases. Twilight was exposed to things that could never infect her before just by being around other ponies, especially during the coronation, and her immune system's never had to deal with any of it. I've pumped her so full of potions that Zecora cut her off, and she's still going to be bedridden for a week."

"Oh." Dash's ears folded back as she frowned. "That's awful." The frown deepened into a scowl as memory shouldered past sympathy. "Wait, didn't she cancel last week's lesson 'cause she had to get, like, a dozen vaccinations or something?"

"That was for all the really bad diseases. This is most of the stuff they were going to get to in the second round." Spike twiddled his thumbs. "And, well, after she wasn't worried about dying from Pegasopolitan measles, she kind of prioritized those 'How to be a Princess' books."

Dash sighed. "Of course she did."

Rarity put on the bravest smile she could. She knew that she couldn't contract anything afflicting Twilight, but the fluids and smells of a mare who had been beset by far too many illnesses at once were anything but elegant. Rarity set the "get well" basket full of treats and encouraging notes on Twilight's nightstand. "Compliments of all of us, darling. Can I get you anything else?"

Twilight's horn, just about the only part of her that looked even remotely healthy, lit up and worked a quill by her bedside. She passed the note to Rarity, who took it in her own magic and held back the wince at what the illness had down to the normally meticulous hornwriting. "Write to Celestia," she said aloud, wanting to make sure she got it right. "Tell her if she doesn't let me know about any other side effects of becoming an alicorn, I'm going to..." Rarity's jaw dropped as her concentration broke, sending the borderline treasonous note fluttering down to the floor. "Oh, Twilight! Just because the princess may have left out a few messy details about your ascension doesn't mean you should..." Her mouth worked silently for a moment before she shook her head, refusing to voice such crude notions. "I mean, I'm not sure if that's possible!"

Twilight glared. In a voice like sandpaper, harsher and more terrible than anything her dragon would manage for centuries, she growled out, "I'll make it possible."

Author's Notes:

Inspired by a recent short. If alicorn-exclusive ailments are that bad, imagine what happens when your body becomes vulnerable to three times as many diseases as the day before. Thankfully, Twilight's disintegration and reconstitution gave her time to address the really big threats.

Vernal Equine Talks

The plan was sound: Get back to Princess Twilight, arrange a spacial gate between the two portals, and usher everyone through to Canterlot High while spending as little time and space in Equestria as possible. And, of course, make it clear that any questions about the magical transit between the island and the mainland would be met with questions about the Lux Deluxe’s lack of bulkheads, fuel pump cutoffs, trained mechanics, and so forth. Questions which would be asked in court.

Unfortunately, Sunset came up with that plan about five minutes after going through the portal with ten other students.

Flash Sentry had fallen back into his old role of placating Sunset when her dark schemes had gone awry. Twilight, meanwhile, occupied her time thinking of all the ways the debacle could’ve gone better.

“I should’ve just had us go to Equestria for spring break,” she concluded.

“Well, there’s plenty of time for that still, but I personally preferred the option that let me keep my fingers.” Rarity, walking alongside Twilight, frowned and twitched her tail. “And my clothes.”

As if to emphasize her point, a breeze then blew through the forest at a specific angle. Twilight shuddered and said, “Yeah, trying not to think too hard about that.”

“Same, but it’s rather difficult for me to simply ignore matters of fashion.” The frown deepened enough that a few sparks flew from Rarity’s horn. “Or the lack thereof.”

Another quandary made itself known from Twilight’s subconscious processing. “Rarity, would you mind if I asked you something personal and potentially offensive?”

“Darling, right now I would welcome it. Anything to get my mind off of being a tiny, naked horse.”

“Right. Well, apologies in advance, but…” Twilight chewed her lip for a moment before she could get out the next words, and even then, they came out softly. “Did you actually care for Ragamuffin?”

“Hmm.” Rarity turned thoughtful, looking off into the middle distance. Her own answer was equally quiet. “Well, given what we now know, that’s a rather tricky question. I certainly fell for his facade, in every sense of the phrase. His aspirations, his accent… and the looks didn’t hurt, if I’m being honest.”

Twilight nodded as she mentally filed a few hypotheses as confirmed. “So you have a thing for orange-skinned freckled blonds with unusual accents, blue-collar origins, and an interest in the arts.”

Rarity raised an eyebrow. “Are you going somewhere with this, Twilight?”

“I’m just trying to figure out the dynamic between you and Applejack.”

A grin teased the corners of Rarity’s mouth. “That’s a rather dangerous question, Miss ‘I Wouldn’t Trade You for Anything in Any World.’”

“And I meant that. My affection for Sunset and my affection for Timber are different from one another, or any of my other friendships. Without any other data points, I don’t know which is more…” Twilight almost waved a hand as she hunted for a word, remembering that she didn’t have any at the last second. “Well, more genuine, for lack of a better word.”

That got a fond smile. “Both are genuine, darling. Both come from your heart.” The smile shifted into a smirk. “And really, if anyone could manage their time with two lovers—“

Twilight made some kind of startled horse noise. “I think we’re getting off topic!” She felt herself flush as the outburst drew everyone else’s eyes for a moment. After waiting a few seconds for their attention to wander again, she said, “But that is why I’m asking. After Equestria Land, I thought… Well, I don’t want to make any assumptions about your orientation.”

“I don’t think in terms of male or female, only beauty. Mostly inner, but some outer; I’m not blind.” Rarity hummed in thought. “With Ragamuffin, I think part of it was the beauty of the tragic romance-that-cannot-be. We’ll likely not see him again after this, outside of social media.”

“And Applejack?”

“Applejack absolutely has an inner beauty to match her outer. All my friends do, you included. And we are close. We’ve known each other since kindergarten and have been friends for much of that time. But…” Rarity frowned as she trailed off.

After a few seconds, Twilight said, “But?”

Rarity gave a very equine snort. “Well, for all that Applejack can lift several tons these days, she’s gotten no better at picking up hints.”

“Ah.” Twilight found her mind slipping into problem-solving mode. “Have you tried talking to her about it directly?”

Rarity shook her head. “One cannot be direct in these matters without reeking of desperation. Besides, in all our years together, I haven’t seen any indication that Applejack is attracted to anyone, much less other girls. For all I know, she’d sooner marry one of her apple trees.”

“And I suppose you can’t talk to her directly about that either.”

That got a look very much like the kind Cadence would give Twilight when she was being especially socially inept. “No offense meant, Twilight, but even you knew to hesitate when raising the subject.”

“Point.”

“And I do raise the topic indirectly. Point out attractive young men and women, see how she reacts.” Rarity shook her head. “Except she doesn’t.”

“Y’all do know I can hear you, right?” Applejack said from in front of them.

Both unicorns stumbled at that. “Y-you can?” Rarity said as she tried to get her hooves back under her.

As Applejack slowed down to move to Rarity’s other side, she waggled her ears. Ears that, Twilight realized, were turning to stay pointed towards them. “These things ain’t just for show. An’ for th’ record, I ain’t th’ only one who’s been missin’ hints.”

“Oh?” Even Twilight’s less than stellar social acumen could detect both dread and anticipation in the question.

Applejack smirked. “I don’t make boo-dwarrs outta my own trees for just anyone, sugarcube.”

Twilight started drifting to the other side of the group. “I’ll, uh, I’ll leave you two to your conversation.”

“Not like we can get much privacy right now.” Rarity looked at the others with clear distaste. “Or am I to believe that Applejack was the only one eavesdropping?”

“It’s not really eavesdropping when you do it in the middle of the group,” Dash said from overhead. That got several murmured assents and a branch-shaking “YEAH!” from Bulk.

“Bonnie owes me ten bucks when we get back,” added Lyra. “Told her I had better gaydar.”

“Isn’t this more bidar?” said Ditzy Doo. “Or pandar? Or does that detect people who really like eating bamboo?”

As the conversation got steadily more ridiculous, Fluttershy brushed up against Twilight. “Um, if it’s any consolation, I don’t think Sunset heard any of that.” She nodded ahead. Indeed, Sunset didn’t seem to register anything going on in her little herd, busy grumbling to herself as Flash awkwardly stretched a wing over her back.

Twilight sighed, still feeling her cheeks burn. “Not really.”

“And, um, I…” Fluttershy’s wings fidgeted as she stammered. “I do, uh, ship you two.”

Twilight thought about that for a few steps. “I can’t decide if that’s encouraging or creepy.”

“Both?”

“Both.”

Choux Pas

Sugarcube Corner had a bell on the door, but it was solely for the Cakes’ benefit. As long as Pinkie knew the pony walking in, she could Sense their arrival and greet them accordingly. As such, Twilight was greeted by a “Hi, Twilight!” the moment she stepped inside.

Mrs. Cake smiled at the counter. “She’s in the kitchen.” The smile took on a particular twist that formed when somepony was trying not to think too hard about Pinkie’s… Pinkieness. “And… well, you’ll see.”

Twilight just quirked an eyebrow and walked to the kitchen. After a quick sanitizing spell on herself, she poked her head through the swinging doors and saw exactly what Mrs. Cake meant. “Pinkie, what are you—“

“What?”

Twilight went in and moved to Pinkie’s other side. “What are you doing?”

“Oh!” Pinkie went from confusion back to her usual massive grin. “Rarity wanted some help with some new accessory ideas, so I’m trying one out before I tell her about it.”

Twilight spent a few moments trying to work backwards through Pinkie’s thought process, which felt uncomfortably like trying to navigate the Everfree at night. Pinkie just kept kneading dough. Finally, Twilight sighed and said, “Pinkie, a boutonnière is a flower worn in the lapel of a suit jacket.”

“Oh!” Pinkie took out the horseshoe. “That makes a lot more sense.”

Author's Notes:

I apologize for nothing.

Don't Shoot the Breeze

Today was a good day to be Zephyr Breeze.

Not that there were many bad days to be Zephyr Breeze, of course. Yes, he was between jobs at the moment. Sure, he'd been very explicitly told that getting dishonorably discharged on his first day as a Royal Guard meant he wouldn't get veteran's benefits. Granted, his landlord was starting to crack his knuckles whenever they crossed paths, and Zephyr really did need to determine what it meant when minotaurs did that. But right now, none of that mattered. Little mattered at all, save for one wonderful, wonderful fact that made the sun shine brighter and the birds sing sweeter:

Rainbow Dash's latest restraining order had expired.

Zephyr knew from experience it took at least two days for Ponyville's bureaucracy to file one of those, which meant he had a golden opportunity to build on the momentum started by his glorious military career. He might not have the swoon-inducing uniform anymore, but he was still him. And wasn't that enough?

The suitably awesome cloud mansion would've been easy to pick out even without long familiarity with it. Oh, Rainbows might remodel the place now and again, but she couldn't resist slipping in the signature touches that made sure Zephyr would know where to land. (Also, not many other pegasi in Ponyville even lived in cloud houses, but that was entirely besides the point.)

He landed in front of the door, checked his breath, ensured his hair was as flawless as always, and knocked on the door. He kept his eyes closed, ears that had grown up listening to—and often tuning out—Fluttershy perked for the subtle, silken sound of cloud scraping on cloud. Once the door opened, he began, infusing his voice with every available ounce of charisma. "You know why I'm here. I know why I'm here. Why don't we cut the games and just get to what we're both really waiting for?"

His answer was a giggle that wasn't nearly scratchy enough. "I'm touched, really, but I'm afraid I'm already spoken for."

Zephyr's eyes popped open. It was Rainbows, yes, but plus a few decades and minus some mane colors. "Mrs. Whistles?"

She beamed at him in a way that made him feel twelve again. It was not a welcome sensation. "It's good to see you again, Zephyr. Why, I don't think I've seen you since that last birthday party before Fluttershy and Dashie moved here. You've gotten so tall!"

"But..." Zephyr struggled to get his mind past the sheer impossibility of the encounter. "but Rainbows never—"

"Who is it, Mom?" the voice he'd expected called from inside.

"You'll never believe it, dear! Do you remember Zephyr Breeze, Fluttershy's little brother? He had the cutest little crush on you when he was a colt!"

Zephyr felt himself die a little inside. It was, admittedly, not an unfamiliar experience when trying to woo the mare of his dreams.

Said mare walked into view, wearing one of her more dangerous smirks. "Oh, I remember. 'Sup, Zeph?"

"I... uh..." Seeing his prize was enough to get his brain back in gear. He slouched into a cool, casual pose. "Yeah. How ya doin'? Didn't know your folks had stopped by." After a moment, he added, "Or ever did."

"We've never really had a chance to admire the place." Mr. Hothoof was hot on his daughter's hooves, casting admiring gazes at the house. "Who knew Rainbow Dash was such a skilled nephotect on top of everything else?" His expression darkened like a year's supply of stormclouds had just passed in front of the sun. "So, what brings you here?"

Zephyr took a few steps back, feeling his ears flatten and his mind race. "Uh, well, you see, it's funny you should ask because, uh—"

Rainbows rolled her eyes. "The restraining order expired, didn't it?"

"Yes. No! What?" Zephyr glanced from parent to parent. "I, heh, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Mrs. Whistles giggled again. Somehow, that was worse than Mr. Hothoof trying to kill Zephyr with a glare. "Oh goodness, it's just like when I was her age. Remember, Bow?"

That put a smile back on the older stallion's muzzle. "Oh yeah. You had to beat off the colts with a stick. I should know; I went to ground and got one for you." The smile fell away as quickly as it came, leaving only unforgiving judgement. "So, you think you're good enough to date my daughter? Wonderbolt, world savior, able to do Sonic Rainbooms in her sleep?"

Rainbows nudged him with a wing. "Come on, Dad. Go easy on him."

"You mentioned restraining orders."

"I didn't say let up entirely."

"I was actually just stopping by, wanted to, uh..." Zephyr's mind fired off a spark of inspiration. "To let you know I was thinking of maybe setting up shop in town?" Neither father nor daughter seemed to think much of that idea. "But upon, you know, further reflection, I think I'll have better luck checking out that opening Flutters was telling me about at that barber shop in Manehattan. Nice, far away Manehattan." His lips were starting to hurt from how much he was forcing his smile, but it seemed like the best way to avoid far worse pain. "Doesn't that sound nice?"

The pain came, driving Zephyr to the ground. Only when he looked up at Mr. Hothoof's smiling face did he realize that it was meant to be a pat on the back. "Great to hear! Good luck in the big city! I may just stop by one day for a trim."

"Oh, uh, that's an awfully long way just for a manecut." Zephyr scrambled to his hooves, wings spread. "I don't want you to trouble yourself, Mr. Hothoof."

"Nonsense! You're practically family, Zephyr. It'll be my pleasure to see how you're doing some time." Between blinks, Zephyr found himself locked in an inescapable hold. "When you least expect it. It'll be more fun that way!"

As Mr. Hothoof squeezed Zephyr in a one-legged embrace powerful enough to make the younger stallion's wings ache, one thing became clear:

Today was not, in fact, a good day to be Zephyr Breeze.

Rainbow Dash watched Zephyr fly off at a rate that probably broke his personal airspeed record. She took a deep, satisfied breath at a job well done.

"Don't you think you were a little harsh on him, Dashie?" said Mom.

"I feel kind of like a bully," added Dad. "I remember when Zephyr was practically afraid of his own shadow."

Dash rolled her eyes. "You heard him. He does this every time a restraining order expires. Heck, I timed your visit assuming he would. Besides, it's for his own good. He was finally on the right track with the mane therapy stuff. I don't want the whole Guard thing throwing off his momentum."

Mom had that funny look in her eye when she thought she knew something Dash didn't. "You do seem to care about him."

"It's like Dad said; Shy and I are practically family, and that means he's my annoying little brother too. I want to see him happy and successful and together with literally anypony else."

"All I'm saying is you're not getting any younger, and I would like some grandfoals to spoil at some point..."

Dash facewinged. "Moooom..."

"Though on the other wing, some of those Wonderbolts..." Dash felt something at her barrel. To her horror, she realized it was her mother nudging her with a wing. She didn't even want to imagine the look on Mom's face. "Thank Celestia for co-ed locker rooms, am I right?"

"This is the other big part of why I've never invited you over before."

Author's Notes:

I would've gone with "nimbotect" for cloud builder, but that would've been a Greek/Latin etymological hybrid, and I'm pretty sure that would put me on a few hit lists.

Also, I'm legitimately surprised that no one's fed Zephyr to the jaws of the "overprotective father" trope yet.

Peak Crusading (FFF Entry)

"And we're live in five, four..." The cameragriffon switched to holding up talons for the rest of the countdown, pointing at the news desk on one.

The prerecorded opening cued up right on time, piped into the room so everyone knew their places. "Live from the KNTR Channel 7 studio in Lower Canterlot, it's 7 News at 7, with your host, Sound Bite."

The lights went up. Sound Bite, a unicorn whose navy blue coat and deeper mane blended in with his suit, gave a blinding smile to the camera. "Good evening, Equestria. Our top story tonight marks the latest development of what has quickly become invaluable to our great nation. The Cutie Mark Crusaders need no introduction, helping all creatures discover their purpose in life for over twenty years, whether helping a foal find her cutie mark or a confused creature acclimate to Equestria. Now they're writing the next chapter of their great legacy. With me here to tell us more about it is one of the founding Crusaders and head of the Ponyville chapter, Apple Bloom. Thank you for joining us."

The earth mare on the cushion next to the news desk nodded, a kerchief with the familiar upward-reaching foal emblem of the Crusaders around her neck. Even primped and polished for TV, she possessed a sincere, down-home charm in both demeanor and smile. "It's a pleasure, Sound."

"So what is this latest development?"

"Well, these days the world's changin' faster'n it ever has before." After a moment's thought, Apple Bloom added, "Exceptin' Discord, o' course. And frankly, sometimes findin' your special talent don't always mean you've found your place in life."

Sound allowed his eyebrows to rise. "That's surprising to hear from somepony like you. What do you mean?"

"One thing you learn quick growin' up in Ponyville is that Harmony works in mysterious ways. Somepony, or any other creature, might be needed in the right place at the right time and make all the difference in the world." Apple Bloom shook her head. "Thing is, that don't put a roof over their head in the meantime. We've hashed out the nitty-gritty in Ponyville, and now all nineteen chapters of the Cutie Mark Crusaders will officially roll out what we're callin' the Esoteric Crusade guidance services startin' next week.

"What inspired this?"

"A filly name o' Kettle Corn found her talent in writin' haiku at our very first cutie mark day camp. Years later, she came to me personally. Mare was furious, tellin' me how she was workin' double shifts at the Hayburger jus' to pay rent, comin' home too tired t' count syllables, feelin' miserable day in an' day out.

"Well, I wasn't gonna let that stand, no sir. I called Scoots an' Sweetie home an' all three of us worked with Kettle, providin' financial aid an' helpin' her find a publisher. Now she's gotten two books on the Manehattan Times best-seller list and got sent by the Map o' Harmony itself to shame an oni general outta his invasion plans. We took what we learned from that and generalized it, makin' work for anypony who needs a bit more help makin' a livin' doin' what they love."

Sound nodded. "I see. So it's just for ponies?"

"Kinda has to be for just them and zebras. There ain't much difference between Esoteric Crusadin' and our usual services for nonponies. It was Scootaloo who pointed out we were reinventin' the wheel when helpin' Kettle. There are some distinctions, o' course, but it just don't make sense for anyone who don't have a cutie mark."

"Are you worried about any accusations of pro-pony bias as you introduce the new service?"

Bloom rolled her eyes. "Folks're always gonna complain when somethin' new an' different comes around. Creatures bellyached when Princess Twilight took the throne, they bellyached when the Crusaders started openin' branch chapters, an' they're gonna bellyache here. I know it ain't diplomatic to say, but you can't please everycreature every time."

"Wise words," Sound said with a nod. "Can you give us another example of a creature who's benefited from the program in its preliminary stages?"

"I'd be glad to. I've been workin' with a unicorn named Higher Power who's a great example of what the program can do.

"See, Higher's special talent is ministerin', but truth be told, he's in the wrong place an' the wrong time. Faith ain't a big concern in Ponyville, not when you can see Castle Canterlot from yer backyard on a clear day and Luna still comes by every Nightmare Night." Apple Bloom shrugged. "Alicorns ain't somethin' to revere in our town, they're just ponies with all the trimmins.

"Now before the Esoteric Crusade, we'd try our best with somepony like Higher, but he knows what his talent is and he ain't lost touch with it. There'd only be so much we could do. But with the program, we take a two-pronged approach. In Ponyville, we're helpin' him learn somethin' in higher demand that he can fall back on. In his case, it's therapy. It ain't spiritual guidance, but it's guidance all the same, helpin' ponies help themselves. An' while we're doin' that, we got ears on the ground or clouds in every city with a Crusader chapter scoutin' for positions that need Higher's particular set o' skills. Already heard back from a few interested places."

"I see." Sound brought a hoof to his chin. "And how much work does this entail?"

"Which part?"

"Contacting those who have an available ministerial position. I imagine given the low demand, they're very picky."

Apple Bloom waved off the idea. "Demand's only low 'cause it's a rare talent. Ponies ain't fond o' givin' folks jobs if the mark don't match. It's part o' why other creatures find it so hard t' get started in Equestria. When there is a position available in matters o' faith, they want it filled up ASAP. When they hear we'll help subsidize vestments, liturgical trainin', an' suchlike, why, they're fightin' with one another t' make the best offer."

"What kind of sales pitch gets them going so easily?"

"Like I said, they don't need much sweet talkin'. All I gotta tell 'em is that I sell praypone and praypone accessories."

Author's Notes:

I did warn you all that I'd be making another Feghoot Festival entry.

And if by some sad chance you don't understand, oh, you will:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9FA__4fLBos

Crate Expectations

Applejack didn't much care for Locoweed.

It wasn't that the mare was an Apple by marriage. Despite baseless rumors (no doubt started by the Strawberries,) the Apples took no issue with grafting new branches onto the family tree. Applejack's own mother was proof of that, Luna rest her soul. True, there had been a fair amount of drama surrounding Buttercup's betrothal, but that was because of a feud with a single other clan, not some cockamamie notion of "keeping the blood pure." That sort of thing was for Canterlot nobles with Hapspur muzzles and cloven hooves, not honest folk.

(Not that Applejack had ever met a Canterlot noble so disfigured, as the part of her that was Honesty had to note. But she figured they just kept the bad ones stowed away in the cellar like crazy Aunt Manchineel.)

No, Applejack's quarrel with Locoweed was that the mare enjoyed her own crop a little too much and a little too often. There were no prizes for guessing what she raised, between her resin-bound dreadlocks, green-on-green color scheme, and cutie mark of a leaf like a minotaur's spread hand. And darn if she didn't cultivate strains potent enough to get even Twilight to unwind a little. But it was when she tried to help outside of her area of expertise that the problem arose.

Applejack looked from the sign to the mare and back again. "Loco, I told you we had the potluck under control."

Loco gave her a lazy smile. "Just tryin' to lend a hoof, AJ."

"There's lendin' a hoof, and there's makin' trouble enough for three more."

"C'mon, mare, it's my first Apple reunion. Smoke's been lookin' forward to me meetin' all of you for moons. Years, even!" Loco blinked, her grin falling to confusion. "Uh, maybe. How long is a hundred moons, again?"

Applejack rolled her eyes. "We met at th' weddin'." They very nearly hadn't. Loco and Applewood Smoke had moved the wedding to a week before the original date so it wouldn't overlap with the Festival of Friendship. Which may or may not have helped save Equestria, depending on how badly the girls had needed that package of gummies Applejack had been saving in her hat, both for calories and for pressing on in light of the Storm Forces' attack.

"Yeah, we did," said Loco, moving of hoof from her to Applejack, "but, like, not all the we did, you know?" She spread that same hoof over a wide area.

A mind accustomed to processing Pinkie Pie and Twilight Sparkle made quick work of the statement. "The whole family, you mean?"

"Exactamundo."

Applejack sighed and patted Loco on the withers. "Yer heart's in th' right place, but you ain't gonna make a good impression on 'em this way."

Loco frowned. "I mean, I brought brownies, but they aren't my best, so it didn't feel like enough. Being an Apple means you do your fair share, right?"

"It's yer first reunion, Loco. Nopony's expectin' you to organize th' whole thing." Applejack looked back at the offending object. "But they're also expectin' better than that."

"It's a perfectly accurate sign."

Applejack looked at the crate of nectarines, then at the shakily hoof-painted sign that read "Tree Fruit," and finally back to Loco, an eyebrow cocked.

"Mare, do you know how much of Califoalnia is on fire these days? The only reason I remember what apples are is because I married one."

Author's Notes:

Inspired by a few crates of peaches outside of a Trader Joe's, which did indeed proudly bear the caption "California Tree Fruit." I have since learned that that's the name of the distributor, but the initial conclusion amused me enough to produce this.

As for why peaches are at an Apple Family Reunion, again, they welcome all kinds. Except those low-down, no-good, moon-banished Strawberries.

Nori-grets

It had taken both Twilights some time to adapt to meeting each other, but they'd grown to appreciate having someone they could understand on a level no one else could claim. Most of their interactions took place in the human world since a wingless, bespectacled Twilight Sparkle trotting around Ponyville would've raised all kinds of awkward questions, but each was happy to call the other "friend" and show her experiences that she couldn't have in her native world.

Today, that meant the Happy Fugu Sushi Palace

"This so exciting!" said Princess Twilight, all but bouncing in her seat. "I hadn't even heard of sushi until Sunset told me she'd gotten a job, but then Mistmane told me about the culinary traditions of the eastern unicorns and it made me realize just how much more work I have to do in bringing cultures together. There's so much to learn, so many more friends to make!"

"P-Twilight," the local Twilight said softly, "while I'm very excited about your plans to further globalize your homeworld, could you maybe discuss the fact you're a magical alien demigod horse princess a little more quietly when we're in public?" The restaurant wasn't that crowded—it was an off hour, and even at the best of times, it was still mall sushi—but she was still acutely aware of every lens pointed their way, whether in smartphones' cameras or people's eyes.

"Relax, H-Twilight. We're just twins, riiight?" P-Twilight gave a wink so exaggerated that H-Twilight almost heard it.

She sighed. "Right. Sure."

"So what have you been up to? Develop any more revolutionary technologies for harnessing you-know-what?"

H-Twilight frowned, idly crumpling her napkin. "Kind of been hitting a roadblock there. Not least because I need to make sure nothing runs out of control again. Or achieves self-awareness and then proceeds to chastise me for abandoning it." She hesitated to say the next part, but she knew that if anyone would understand what she meant by it, it would be herself. "Plus, spending time with friends is great and all, but it really eats into research and development."

P-Twilight nodded. "Too true. The tradeoff is more than acceptable when it's friends, but I've barely had a chance to set hoof in the lab since I started taking on roy... sponsibilities of my own."

In a voice dark as Midnight, H-Twilight thought, Yeah, you're busy reshaping the political landscape of your planet. Boo hoo. Out loud, she just murmured, "You still said 'hoof.'"

"I'd like to see you overcome decades of linguistic habits."

"I'll get back to you when I've lived for decades." H-Twilight gave a wink of her own and was gratified to see her counterpart giggle.

"Order up!" Sunset Shimmer came to their table, an identical tray in each hand. "Two orders of cucumber rolls for my favorite nerds."

H-Twilight smirked. "You're one to talk."

Sunset returned the expression. "You're lucky I'm on the clock." She waved as she went back towards the kitchen. "Shout if you need anything."

"Fascinating. Mistmane only described the dish; I've never actually seen it for myself. The presentation and formation certainly add to the aesthetic appeal." P-Twilight looked about the tray. "Um... where are the utensils?"

"In the paper envelope," said H-Twilight, carefully pulling apart her chopsticks with precisely measured force while pulling near their shared base.

P-Twilight stared at them for a few moments. Then she tore open her own set's packaging. "Uh..."

"Did Mistmane not mention chopsticks?"

"I don't think anypo... erson could have. I've never even heard of something like these before, much less seen them."

"Hmm." H-Twilight expertly grabbed a cucumber roll, dipped it in soy sauce, and popped in her mouth. "I suppose," she said after swallowing, "that fingers might be a prerequisite."

P-Twilight didn't respond, still trying to split her chopsticks, yanking at them near the tips. After a wince-inducing crack, she frowned at the break that left one chopstick short and the other doubly wide near the top. She sighed. "Well, it's not like it will impact the flavor."

Then, chopsticks in hand, she... didn't do anything, unless watching H-Twilight eat a few more counted. That and trying to get her own set to imitate those motions.

"If you'd like, I could ask Sunset to bring a fork."

"No, no, I want to get the authentic experience." P-Twilight managed to get the sticks to move in opposite directions, but found closing them on a roll more complicated.

"I could just lift the rolls for—"

"I'm not a foal, H-Twilight, I don't need you to feed me like one." Her knuckles white, P-Twilight managed to get a grip on a roll.

The corner of one.

Which mostly slipped back out, leaving her with a few grains of rice balanced on her chopsticks.

After that came an expression H-Twilight was well acquainted with. It was the intent stare of a transformed unicorn trying very hard to lift something with the magic she didn't currently have, mixed with mounting frustration and confusion over that magic not working. That second part was mostly in the eyes and how the lips peeled back.

She reached across the table. "Here—"

"I have beaten gods and demons," P-Twilight hissed through her teeth. "I will not be beaten by rice and seaweed."

H-Twilight flinched back, hands up. "Okay!"

P-Twilight dropped one chopstick and wrapped her fingers around the other. She drove her fist down on another cucumber roll, skewering it. Dark triumph filled her expression as she raised her hand, sushi in tow.

Then it fell off again.

At that point, she gave a weird, warbling scream and slammed her face into the tray.

H-Twilight just sighed and waved for the cameras.

After assuring a blushing princess that no harm had been done and arranging their next meet-up, Twilight watched the ripples of the portal fade with a sigh.

An arm wrapped around her shoulders, and she leaned into Sunset. "Still feel like the inferior copy?"

Twilight shook her head, smiling more than she probably should have. "How did you know it would work?"

Sunset cleared her throat. "Let's just say that isn't the first time a unicorn's whinnied bloody murder over chopsticks."

Twilight cracked an eye open, smirking up at Sunset. "You enjoyed this, didn't you?"

"What, harmlessly trolling the mare who ruined all my aspirations and left me stranded for months in a magicless wasteland where only five people out of hundreds would even give me the time of day?" Sunset looked away. "Pssh. No. Why would I ever enjoy that?"

Twilight took a step back, an eyebrow raised. "Wasn't she the one who made sure those five would give you the time of day?"

"Eh, details." Sunset took Twilight's hand in hers. "Come on, let's go work on that electrothaumic converter you were telling me about."

And Twilight happily let Sunset drag her along.

Author's Notes:

If you have a better name for Sunset's workplace, I'd love to hear it.

For more on Sci-Twi's irresponsible actions with AI, see The Red Crest of Love!

And yes, this was a self-esteem exercise for human Twilight orchestrated by her girlfriend.

Immodest Proposal

Everyone would later agree that literally everything about the proposal attempts could've gone better, though few mistakes quite compared to the heaving, tumorous mass of fruit and terrible poetry looming over the lovers and their co-conspirators.

"Wait," Mrs. Cake said to Spike and Discord. "So you two were orchestrating a proposal? That's what I was doing!"

"Who were you proposing to?" said Discord.

"Discord!" cried Apple Bloom.

"Me!?"

"Will you snap that thing back to normal already?" said Spike.

Discord crossed his arms. "Well, I was going to, but if that's how you plan on thanking me for it, maybe I won't."

"I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU!" the applebomination chanted from at least four mouths, one of which was on an elbow.

Scootaloo winced. "Uh, could you do something? I'm pretty sure that thing is in pain."

"Hmm..." Discord stroked his goatee in thought. "Well, I suppose I can stone two krill with one bird, or however that goes." He snapped, but the pomaceous horror remained. Instead, a light flashed next to Discord himself, revealing a hovering—

"Fluttershy?" the others chorused.

Once she blinked away her surprise, she took one look at the fused apples, then turned to Discord with a flat look. "Discord."

"No, no, no. We're not doing the name thing again. Now then:" Discord took Fluttershy's forehoof in paw and talon and got down on one scaly knee. "Fluttershy. You are the last thing I ever expected to value more than myself or my self-satisfaction. You have exposed me to alien mindsets, beliefs, and sensations beyond my wildest imaginings and forced my mind into a state that could comprehend them. You saved me from petrification, dissolution, and holiday doldrums. If you had asked me ten years ago if I thought the concept of kindness deserved even a single attosecond of consideration, I wouldn't have been able to answer you, because I was a statue at the time."

"Is he—?"

"Are you—?"

"Should we—?"

All three questions got somewhat stunned nods from the other onlookers.

Discord looked deep into Fluttershy's eyes, gestured towards his horrific creation, and said, "Fluttershy Poseysfilly, will you accept this giant mutant apple and make me the happiest draconequus in existence?"

"I... I..." Fluttershy sniffed, wiping at her eyes with her free foreleg. "How did you know?"

"Come now, you didn't think Zecora was the only one keeping an eye on you during that whole body swap debacle, do you? I figured there were even odds of Angel's little slip being a jab, the truth, or both." He gave a lopsided grin. "Why not take the risk?"

There was silence for a few moments, save for the continuing ululations of the amalgamapple. The lopsided grin came loose and swung back and forth on Discord's muzzle. But then, quiet enough that it was almost lost against Big Mac's noble attempts at a limerick, Fluttershy said, "Will you help me accept the engagement gift?"

"Oh! I was just using what was available, but..." Almost shyly, Discord said, "You want me to do the thing? Here?"

Fluttershy's whole face went rosy, but she nodded.

"Um, there are children present," said Mrs. Cake.

Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. "I live on a farm."

Scootaloo shrugged her wings. "My parents just consider that another part of biology."

"Same with Twilight," said Spike.

Sweetie Belle shuddered. "Rarity gave me a very detailed talk the day we got our cutie marks."

Discord cleared his throat and booped Fluttershy in the snoot. She developed slit-pupiled eyes, fluffy ears, and bat wings and promptly pounced on the apple. Its horrified screams were actually less obnoxious than the other sounds it had been making. "You should all be ashamed of yourselves."

To be fair, the noisy slurping and rapturous cries of "Yes! Yes! Yes!" still made every parent in a five-block radius cover their foals' ears.

Mrs. Cake facehoofed. "It's a good thing Carrot took the twins to visit their grandmother today."

"And for the record, that is how you ask for a pony's hoof in..." Discord trailed off when he realized his audience was two ponies smaller than he'd anticipated.

Apple Bloom looked around the area. "Where're Big Mac an' Sugar Belle?"

"They snuck off earlier," said Sweetie Belle. "They were heading for Sweet Apple Acres."

"And none of you stopped them? Hmph. Well, they may have missed my engagement, but I won't be nearly so inconsiderate." Discord raised his eagle talons, poised to snap, but froze as an irritated hiss sounded from behind him. "Er, that is..." He cleared his throat and made shooing motions. "You can all go on ahead."

Mrs. Cake gave her best maternal nod of approval. "Good, you're already learning."

Twilight sighed and covered her face with a wing. That seemed like a reasonable place to start. She'd keep it up for just a little bit longer.

Twenty years seemed reasonable.

"In my defense," said Discord, "I just as surprised as you are."

She peeked out at him between her pinions. Well, not so much peeked as glared. "Your magic was already behaving in ways you hadn't anticipated. Why did you think adding yet another layer of chaos magic to the mix would help matters?"

He just smirked. "Bold of you to assume I was thinking about that at all."

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess."

"I do appreciate you still agreeing to be my best mare."

"You're just lucky I kept Rarity from stabbing you with every needle she had when she had to redesign the wedding gown from the ground up on the day of the—" Twilight went silent as the songbird choir began singing the Wedding March.

And down the aisle came Fluttershy, no two limbs alike, including her mismatched antennae. A bellyfull of chaos-infused apple juice did that to a pony, after all.

But Twilight had to admit, happy as Fluttershy was, she was still as beautiful as Cadence on her wedding day.

Author's Notes:

How better to seduce the god of madness than to give him an experience that, to him, is comparable to what a cosmic horror protagonist goes through?

How better to propose to a frugivorous vampire than with the juiciest apple imaginable?

How better to troll the best mare than by causing the first known case of ascending to draconequushood on a day when she absolutely can't stop the proceedings to study it?

3.1415-Nein!

After the second Pinkie Pie baking frenzy in as many weeks, Twilight had wanted the details, if only to prevent a third one. Dash had been happy to provide them. "... and so apparently Granny Smith set her off again. But at this point, I think Pinkie's accepted that I don't like pie for good."

Twilight nodded as she finished her notes and floated the book into one of the many shelves in whichever of her libraries this was. Dash lost track around the tertiary nonfiction annex. "Well, I'm glad you were able to resolve the conflict, but I find myself wondering why you don't like pie."

"Who said I needed a reason?"

"It's just that, Pinkie's experiments with metabaking aside, 'pie' isn't a flavor. It's a medium."

Dash snorted. "You're one to talk, Miss Quesa—"

"Those don't count!" Twilight caught herself, cleared her throat, and folded her wings back down from the totally unintimidating dominance display that definitely wasn't making Dash blush. "Those are always overloaded with cheese. It's in the name and everything. Pie crust is more of an edible container for whatever lies inside, a necessary component rather than the gustatory focus. You like sweets, including many other forms of pastry, so I'm left wondering what emergent property renders pie repulsive to you."

This was hardly Dash's first time with a curious Twilight. "You're not going to let this go until you find out, are you?"

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Twilight looked away, though her fidgeting wings told Dash everything she needed to know.

Dash sighed. "No, I'm not going to leave you hanging after making you wonder. It was back in Junior Speedsters...

Rainbow Dash didn't quite get Gilda. She was awesome, sure, but some things about her just didn't make sense. Especially not when what she told Dash about Griffonstone.

Dash had been able to talk her parents down to weekly care packages. After all, she was a big pony, going to sleepaway flight camp and everything, and only needed the occassional reminder of how great she was. But Gilda didn't seem to get anything, and when Dash had asked, she'd just shrugged her wings and said "Someone has to care to send a care package."

What was that supposed to mean? Parents loved you and cheered you on and made you feel like you were the best foal ever. That was how it worked. Maybe Fluttershy's parents did it more quietly, but they still did it with her and Zephyr (and little Zephyr needed all the encouragement he could get.)

But apparently that just wasn't how griffons did things. Not in Griffonstone, anyway. One day in the cafeteria, next to the old mare who always gave Dash fescue even when she asked her not to, there was a griffon! One that smiled his weird beaky smile when he spotted Gilda next to Dash. (It must have been a he,since there was a little mustache on his beak. Somehow.) "Gustave has heard about you, little chickub," he said with a funny accent.

Gilda's eyes went wide. "Y-you have?" She was still sheepish around strangers.

The older griffon nodded and pulled out something hoof-sized, round, and beigish. It smelled a little like hay fries, a little like hot lightning rods, and a lot like nothing Dash had smelled before. Whatever it was made the fescue lady fold back her ears and pull away from the older griffon, which meant it had to be cool. "For you, a taste of home. Or perhaps better than home. Can't have you learning to use those wings while trying to live on grass, non?"

As the thing hit Gilda's lunch tray, she looked at it like it was a Wonderbolts season pass. "Oh wow..." Her eyes darted back up as she wiped away the drool. "Thanks, mister!"

He smiled back. "But of course."

Gilda raced to their table, and only won because Dash had to get her lunch too. Which was a lot less interesting than whatever the... thing was. "What is it?"

"It's a pie."

"Griffons eat pie for lunch?" Griffons were officially the coolest creatures ever. Dash leaned in and tried to figure out what might be in it. "Can I try some?"

Gilda frowned. "Um, I dunno. I don't think you'd really like it..."

"Well, I can't know if I don't try it!" That was what Mom always said, anyway. Even if Dad cheered about Dash's "discerning palate," whatever that meant. "C'mon, just a bite?"

After a moment, Gilda shrugged. "Well, okay." She grabbed a fork and pressed down on the pie. Under the crust, the filling was a weird grayish-white almost like a raincloud, though the smell was absolutely nothing like one. Something about it put Dash on edge, and that meant it was exciting. Gilda stabbed a bit and held it out to her. "Here."

Dash bit the morsel off the fork directly. It was... weird. The crust was nice and flaky, but the filling was heavy and greasy and—

Her face twisted in disgusted horror as she spat the bit out onto her own tray. "Oh, barf!"

Gilda shook her head. "I told you. Ponies aren't supposed to eat meat."

"Not that! Uncle Charnel Wind does great barbeques, even if he usually grills fish." Dash spat again, then tried to scrape her tongue with a hoof. "But who puts peas in a pie?"

Gilda just stared at her. After a few seconds, she got out a "Huh?"

"Ugh, I'm gonna taste those every time I even look at a pie from now on!"

"And I have ever since."

Twilight gave Dash a look very similar to Gilda's, accounting for the beak. "Really?"

"I hate peas. And again, quesa—"

"Finish that word and I will not be responsible for my actions... Also, you've proven your point."

Author's Notes:

"Secrets and Pies" bothered me for the reasons Twilight listed above. This seems like as logical a reason as any for why Dash hates pie specifically.

And yes, Pinkie did try to change Dash's mind again in one of the comics. Not one of the better issues.

And I like the idea of Gustave le Grande providing his own brand of help to other griffons in the land of the grass-eaters. I also like the idea of pegasi being far more willing to adopt a pescatarian diet than other ponies. (As for the pie, it was pork. Mostly pork.)

As always, I make no apologies for the chapter title.