Beanery

Chapters

Gullywasher
Trixie Narrates A Ken Burns Documentary
A Bit To Build A Dream On
Centerfold
On The Rocks
Reap What You Sew
Afterparty
For The Exposure
5 Pairs Of Shorts
Between Family And Friend
The Ghost In The Secondary Sub-Basement Laboratory
Who We Are In The Shadows
The Little Death

Gullywasher

Rain.

Driving rain. The kind that forces you to squint your eyes to a narrow slit and even then you can barely see for the drops hanging on your eyelashes. Each drop was tiny individually but collectively they fell like hammers. Hearing was lost just as much as vision, too - every sound was blurred behind an overarching drone of raindrops hitting and mud splashing. And that mud stole most of the feel as well. Everything was dulled below a caked layer of ooze. Everything besides my aching muscles, at least.

It probably didn’t help that I hadn’t stopped to rest. A full day would have been bad enough, but I’d foolishly thought I could make it home before dark. Now not only was I wrong but I was all the more fool for trying. Pushing to get those last few miles had left me here like this: half lost in the woods with the landmarks obliterated by the storm. I couldn’t even guess if the road was still under my hooves for all the mud. Maybe I was still on it, or maybe I’d lost track three turns ago. No way to tell.

Stopping for the moment occurred to me - maybe I could find shelter. A cave would be too risky. Even if it was normally unoccupied, ursas and manticores didn’t like the rain any more than ponies did. With the strength of the wind and the pounding of the rain, no tree would provide enough either. Maybe if there were two close together with a thick enough canopy it could work… But there was nothing like that ahead. At least, not in my vision. My very, very limited vision.

Besides, that would be giving up.

I wasn’t going to give up. I needed to get home.

In the grand scheme of things, I guess you could call me a fool yet again. I needed to get home because I wanted to be home. Because I wanted to see my family. There wasn't some unmanageable crisis happening or the end of the world. My ma was still as lively as ever and my youngest wasn't sick or anything. The only thing sick was me - homesick.

It really shouldn't have been a big deal, if I was being sensible about this. I could be home tomorrow or the day after and they'd still be there to meet me at the door, full of smiles and laughter and a cool drink to chase away the summer heat. They'd be just as happy to see me then as any other time - a day, a week, a month and it would be the same cheer and love. But, you see, that's the problem. It could be a day, a week, a month… it could be tomorrow. But in my heart I'm a greedy stallion, and I want that today. Tonight.

So I push on.

A voice in the back of my head urges me to wise up. I can't go back now, but going ahead isn't going to help either. I could be running the wrong direction entirely and I wouldn't know it until morning. And speaking of, it's going to be dark pretty soon. The sun was halfway to setting when the storm clouds rolled in, and even if there's no way to see the sun through the muddy, rainy murk? My own internal clock is telling me that what little light is slipping through the clouds is the last of it. Pretty soon I'll be more than just mostly blind, and then what?

But I've never been good at listening to that voice. It demands things like common sense and playing it safe - my wife would be the first to admit that isn't how I live. Though if I'm going to be honest, she probably would laugh about it first and pretend she's shocked I've got a voice that suggests it at all. I've got to follow my heart - always have, always will. And right now it's aching worse than my legs, so I want to get home.

I need to get home.

Of course, it's also those aching legs that betray me. My back-left hoof hits a spot that's more stone than mud. The impact jars straight up my leg as the hoof skids off the rock, slipping in the slick mud and yanking my leg out from under me. The other three flail to try and keep me upright, but there's too little traction and too much gravity. I'm already halfway to the ground by the time my brain understands that I'm moving more down than forward. The impact is hard - painfully one of the first things that hits is my jaw, rapping my teeth against each other and filling my already blurred vision with stars.

It's possible I blacked out for a minute or two. Hard to say, though if I did it can't have been for very long. First thing that I'm able to wrap my thoughts around is how much my head hurts. I think that's a good sign, since if I'm hurting I'm probably not in shock. I almost wish I was, though, when I get a look at my legs.

My back-left hoof - the one that hit the rock - is busted. There's a nasty crack running up it that's already filling with mud. I can't get a good look at the frog in this weather, but there's a fair chance I've hurt it as well. That's just a big old nothing compared to the rest, though. It's my fore-left that's really got me worried. I don't think it's broken, at least, but the knee's definitely not supposed to bend that way. Dislocated for sure - and putting even a little weight on it makes pretty clear that it's in bad shape.

I give myself a minute to rest in the mud while I check the rest of myself. My barrel hurts something fierce, but I'm not having trouble breathing so probably no broken ribs. Feeling around the inside of my mouth with my tongue shows I chipped one of my teeth when I landed, but that's going to be bothersome more than problematic. And while it's hard to tell in the rain, I don't think I see any blood. Guess I got lucky.

Rising up, I try to keep my weight off the one leg. Now I absolutely have to get home. Staying out in the woods overnight without a lame leg is damn near suicide - one sniff from a timberwolf and that's the end of it. With my leg like this I can't run and I can't buck. Hobbling home is all I can do, because staying in the Everfree is even less of an option than it was before. Even that little voice of common sense agrees, for once.

The rest of me - the impulsive heart I usually follows - doesn't argue with that voice. Hurt or not, I still want to get home. Maybe I'll be slower with this leg, but as long as I'm careful I should get there. As long as it's by Sunday. Can't miss Applejack's birthday - she'll never forgive me if I do.

Author's Note

Prompt: A Little Rain Never Stopped Me
Bonus: 1st person perspective

Trixie Narrates A Ken Burns Documentary

"The roots of magic are said to be lost in the mists of time. Though this is true for Magic, it is not so for magic."

"The Sorcerer's Guild has a history which traces back beyond the founding of ancient Unicornia, but the Magician's Guild has kept better track of theirs. It - and magic as we know it today - traces back to the traditions of the earth ponies. In the days before the emigration to Equestria, a bard named Djedi travelled between villages and earned coin by singing and acting out simple plays."

On screen appears the drawing - sketched out in charcoal on papyrus - of an ancient earth pony standing in front of a crowd. Most of the details are too vague to tell, but the shaggy and old pony does have on a vest of some sort as well as a tall, boxy hat.

"As the story is told, Djedi came to a town that had recently been savaged by the unicorn nobility. Unable to oppose the unicorn's stupendous magical might, the downtrodden earth ponies were left with nothing but the clothes on their backs and empty bellies."

"Angry at the cruelty he saw - and worried that he wouldn't be able to earn a meal with a song - Djedi set the standard for every future stage performer and laughed aloud. 'The unicorns are not the only ones with magic', he told the crowd. They doubted him - obviously - but he offered to show them for a loaf of bread and a cup of wine. They agreed, but only if he wasn't lying. Djedi took the challenge, of course."

"Sitting at a table, he placed a child's marble under one cup and placed an identical cup on either side of it. Today, the cup and ball trick is considered the most basic of illusions - but in Djedi's time, no pony had ever performed it before. So when he seemingly moved the marble from under one cup to another, teleporting it at will? The crowd was amazed! Djedi earned his meal that night before moving on."

Another slide comes up, projecting a more familiar image on the screen - one of the earth ponies facing down the unicorns that is shown at the beginning of nearly every Hearth's Warming play across the land.

"The next time the unicorns came to that village, the earth ponies remembered that they could have magic too. They defied the unicorns and later the pegasi, refusing to give away the food they had worked so hard for. They were the first ones to do so and their defiance was the spark that eventually became the Equestrian Exodus."

"Humbly, the Magician's Guild only takes partial credit for the founding of Equestria and declines to make a big deal out of it."

The next slide is projected, showing off the image of a cloaked earth pony galloping through the shadowy streets of a town.

"After the Founding, the practice of earth pony magic proliferated. However, it was forced to do so underground - the unicorn nobles called it an abomination in private and in public said it was a divisive practice, performed by earth ponies who sought to steal the unicorns' birthright. So even as it flourished and spread, publicly magic was seen as witchcraft and disharmonious. That was when the Magician's Guild was first founded as a place to pass knowledge from performer to performer and to keep them safe. It was these times that the tradition of secrecy began among stage performers, and why we still today keep how a trick is performed secret."

"At the same time, calling what we did magic fell out of common use to protect ourselves. We called it slight-of-hoof or legerdemain or hocus pocus to try and distance ourselves from capital-M magic. It didn't appease the snotty unicorn nobles, but the Guild tried."

Another slide - this one of an oil painting. In the painting, an earth pony with a cascading wig of white hair is standing on a stage, posed dramatically with a deck of cards in one hoof and a wand in the other.

"Centuries later, the unicorn hatred of stage magic had faded. They still disdained it as cheap trickery, but no longer were practitioners considered criminal. In fact, they had taken the same place that Djedi had established - entertainers and pleasers of the crowd. An excellent example is the performer known only as I. Faux. Widely considered to be the forefather of the modern card trick, Faux had a weekly booth at the Trottingham Fairegrounds where he performed in front of regular and large crowds. He eventually retired in luxury, becoming the example for modern shows like those in Las Pegasus."

Next up is a very familiar slide: Hoofdini climbing into a cannon, preparing for the Moonshot Manticore Mouth Dive. The narrator resumes with barely restrained glee.

"It was the amazing Hoofdini who raised the bar next and set the standard for modern stage magic. An escape artist, contortionist and illusionist of the highest caliber, he wowed the world with one death-defying stunt after another. To this day, many of his tricks still remain unsolved. A few - such as the Moonshot Manticore Mouth Dive - have only recently been replicated by the most talented, skilled and good-looking of performers."

The next section is choppy, sounding as if it were spliced together over multiple takes.

"Hoofdini also set the stage for the Magicians Guild to act as debunkers and exposers of fraud, working hard to ferret out ponies who would try to pass off magic as Magic and use it to swindle innocent audience members out of their bits. Despite the baseless slander, we are entertainers who earn our bits, not thieves."

Next slide: a pair of earth ponies in suits. One tall with a slicked mane and beard; the other shorter with a frizzy poof of a mane.

"Today magicians come in a wide variety of specializations and present themselves in an even wider variety of ways - from street performers practicing the classic cup and ball, to wandering road shows of illusion, to the house acts of Las Pegasus. But no matter the form; no matter the tribe; no matter the skill level - all trace their art back to Djedi and those early earth ponies, playing tricks to entertain and to give each other courage in ponydom's darkest hours."

"Over the next ten episodes, we will follow that lineage across the centuries and delve into some of the most famous practitioners of the illusory arts and many of their greatest tricks."

The last slide comes up - a title card.

A CELESTIAL FILMS PRODUCTION

KEY BURNS PRESENTS

EARTH PONY MAGIC

A DOCUMENTARY

PRESENTED BY

THE GREAT AND POWERFUL TRIXIE

Author's Note

Prompt: Earth Pony Magic
Bonus: No main characters

A Bit To Build A Dream On

Starlight's birthday was tomorrow and Trixie didn't have a present for her. That alone was reason to panic. Not that she was - or so she claimed - but if she had been it would be understandable.

Fortunately she had help for her shopping trip in the form of Maud - a calming, steady rock if there ever was one. A pony so patient and understanding and unshakable that the very stones of the earth itself envied her resolve.

"What is Trixie going to DO?!" Trixie's question was rhetorical as she shook Maud wildly, but asking it made her feel better. It didn't and also managed to get curious looks from the rest of the ponies in the market square.

For her part, Maud patiently waited for the not-panic to subside before gently taking hold of Trixie's hooves and removing them from her frock. "Trixie," she said with every scrap of patience she could muster, "I'm still not sure how you got yourself into this mess."

"Well, by procrastinating to start," Trixie admitted matter-of-factly. "But she still would have had enough time if the other part hadn't gone wrong!"

Maud raised a single curious eyebrow that spoke more volumes than the Encyclopedia of Geology.

With a sigh, Trixie started from the beginning. "Originally, Trixie was going to buy Starlight this amazing book about the history of kites - including designs for famous kites throughout history. But she found herself slightly lighter in the wallet than anticipated and thus short of the cost of the book. After her attempts to use her stunningly powerful charisma were blocked by the surprisingly resistant shopkeeper, the Great and Powerful Trixie decided to utilize her skills to bridge the gap."

"You did a magic show," Maud summarized, skipping ahead through about ten minutes of irrelevant details.

Trixie pouted. "Trixie did a magic show," she confirmed.

Opting to not interrupt again, Maud gave her a little nod to resume.

"Unfortunately," Trixie continued, "While the show itself was a success, there was a minor disagreement with certain members of local law enforcement and members of the government vis a vis the Great and Powerful Trixie and the theoretical non-existence of her busking license."

Maud slowly blinked at Trixie. "Theoretical."

"... Factual non-existence," Trixie admitted with a blush. "Which resulted in an equally factual fine, taking away all that Trixie had earned from her show and most of her wallet beyond that."

"Which left you…"

With a grumble, Trixie produced a single bit coin from behind Maud's ear. "Ta~daaaaa." Her lack of enthusiasm challenged Maud's own. "So now Trixie must acquire a birthday present for Starlight with just one bit and has only four hours to do it in."

It was perhaps a testament to Maud's character and their friendship that the earth pony's first action was to reach into her frock and pull out her own wallet.

And similarly it was a testament to how far Trixie had come that she reached out her hoof and stopped Maud. "No. Trixie will not taint Starlight's birthday like that. She will get her a present or face the consequences herself - she will not have somepony else bail her out from her foolishness." She paused, and smiled gently. "Even if the thought is deeply appreciated."

The corners of Maud's mouth twitched slightly in the barest hint of a smile back.

"Trixie is used to life on the road," she admitted, "So this is not the first time she has had to be both frugal and cunning. But Starlight... she deserves better than just whatever Trixie can throw together from what's available. But now she's out of time and money and… and…" Tears pricked the corners of Trixie's eyes, and she finally dropped her protections. "I don't know what to do, Maud."

As Trixie teetered on the edge, Maud reached out and steadied her with a hoof on the shoulder. "You do. You're just thinking too hard. I want you to close your eyes, Trixie."

Lower lip trembling, Trixie started to talk back to Maud - but stopped herself before saying a word. Then she did as commanded, closing her eyes.

"I want you to take a slow, deep breath."

Trixie did, the intake shuddering slightly. But it was smoother coming out as her jagged nerves started to ease.

"I want you to think about Starlight," came the next instruction.

She did - that was easy for Trixie to do. Seeing that smiling face in her mind's eye brought a similar smile to her own face. Starlight, looking at her without judgement - and occasionally with judgement but also with forgiveness. Starlight, who had turned her life around so dramatically and had brought Trixie along for the ride.

"Now I want you to not think about this. Just react." Maud paused, waiting for Trixie to nod. When she did. "If Starlight were in your hooves, what would she do with her bit."

The answer was obvious, of course. Starlight was selfish once, sure. But she was Twilight's student - she was a good mare. And she understood Harmony, maybe better than anypony else did.

Trixie opened her eyes and scanned the market square around them.

Over there was the Apple family stand and beside it was Golden Harvest's own produce. The Flower Trio further down the line and Burnt Oak's firewood tent near that. A stand for books; one for brooms; one for honey; one for pet food. And crammed in the midst of it all was a tiny little ramshackle table with a hoof-drawn paper sign hanging off of it.

FUNDRAISER FOR PONYVILLE ORPHANAGE

1 BIT EACH

And scattered across the table was a variety of crafts, mostly made from popsicle sticks and glitter glue.

With the confidence of a goddess, Trixie strode up to the table and slapped her single bit down on it. The doe-eyed orange filly behind the counter startled slightly at Trixie's stunningly powerful charisma.

The performer pointed at a little ballerina made from a popsicle stick, a cupcake wrapper and a pipe cleaner. "The Great and Powerful Trixie would like that one, please."

For a moment the filly hesitated - and then scrambled to hoof it over. "Thank you! Thanks a lot!" Her smile was wide enough to challenge Celestia's sun.

Trixie gave her a smile and a wink back before carrying the little piece of childhood art over to Maud. "Well?"

Maud looked at the ballerina, then the little stand, then at Trixie. And she gave a confirming nod. "She'll love it."

Author's Note

Prompt: For Only A Single Bit I Could...
Bonus: Have another writer suggest your main characters

Centerfold

Photo Finish was a mare of great talent and a great many words to describe herself. Her personal favorites were I-words.

Inspired.

Inventive.

Iconic.

Incredible.

At current, that would also include intimidated.

She was just a (not very) humble photographer and artist - having a pair of dark-armored batpony guards in her studio was not normal. It didn't help that neither of them had said a word since entering, merely looming ominously on either side of the door. And they hadn't responded to her inquiries (well, demands) to explain themselves, either.

After two solid minutes of dead silence and flat expressions, Photo Finish had stopped asking them why they were here and instead started to mentally go over what she could have done to be arrested for.

She was still going over that when the door burst open, which likely explained (and hopefully excused) her distraught screech. "I haf never smuggled pineapples!"

The sheer ridiculousness caused Princess Luna to stop dead in the doorway, her planned dramatic entrance ruined by non-sequitur. "...Good," she decided on after a full thirty seconds of silence. "See that you continue to not do so." Several more awkward seconds passed. "Do you… have any other confessions to make?"

Another pregnant pause.

"...Please do not send me to jail," asked the cowering photographer. "I look terrible in orange."

With a sigh, Luna dismissed her guards with a small nod of her head. "I see I have made a miscalculation in my arrival, Miss Finish. The intent was never to frighten you so - obviously, this is yet another misreading of ponies on my part." Approaching Photo, Luna bowed her head. "We apologize for Our error and assure you We mean you no harm or ill will. Our reason for coming is to see your commission--"

Fortunately for Photo Finish one of the other I-words used to describe her was indefatigable.

Two-tenths of a second after the Princess said that, Photo Finish was on her hooves and already gathering her camera equipment. "Ah, you require Photo Finish to work Ze Magicks! Do not fear, Princess, for I, Photo Finish, shall make you sparkle!"

The awkward pause stopped back in for one last check to make sure nobody wanted anything from the corner store while it was out.

"...Luna," dryly noted the Princess of the Moon. "Twilight Sparkle is a different princess."

"A Princess… is a princess." Photo Finish didn't look back as she started to set up her equipment, utterly failing to get the joke.

Luna edged forward, silver-shod hooves tapping on the studio floor. "Perhaps you should at least inquire as to what I am commissioning?"

The response was slow, as the photographer was occupied with choosing her lenses. "Hm? Oh, yes yes, tell Photo Finish what it is you seek so that she may correct you."

Briefly, Luna frowned - but she pushed forward anyway. "I require… I, ah…" A hot red blush crept to her cheeks. "We are doing a piece in Playcolt and--"

Photo Finish's sunglasses hit the floor, as did her jaw.

"A tasteful one!" Luna lept to her own panicked defense. "Merely risque, not… ah." She waved vaguely, not wanting to say the words.

Photo Finish tried to be helpful. "Degenerate smut?"

The Princess' lips pursed. "I would not term it quite like that, but yes. I have no desire to do that, but I am told that it has excellent articles as well, and, ah…" Luna sighed heavily, head drooping. "Who am I trying to fool, if I wished for articles I would be interviewed by the newspaper." She tried to raise up and look Photo Finish in the eyes - and failed, unable to meet the photographer's gaze. "I am hoping your immense skill can accomplish what I'm after without making this a complete debacle."

While it was two words, Photo Finish did like 'immense skill' and it still started with an i. She nodded. "And what is it you are seeking by dabbling in this… schmutz?"

Pacing, Luna moved away from Photo and to the broad window that overlooked Manehatten's Central Park. "I am sure you are aware that my duties are more than just the moon - that much of my time is taken by patrolling the dreams of Equestria to ensure Our ponies are protected in sleep just as they are when awake. And when I do so, I see.. things." She hesitated. "It is perhaps not a surprise that ponies dream about Princesses. I…" Luna trailed off again, cheeks bright red with embarrassment. "My sister has many admirers in dreams - and why should she not? She has been entrenched so deeply in Equestria that 'celestial' is itself a complimentary adjective. Cadance is the literal avatar of love and, well." Luna bit her lip. "I have also recently been introduced to the term 'MILF energy', which was an eye-opening experience."

The Princess of Dreams sighed heavily, turning away from the window. "Even young Twilight has many dreams that revolve around her. Perhaps somewhat troubling is the sheer number of her friends that dream about her that way, but I cannot deny that she has - as one pony put it - the filly-next-door charm. She is a Princess but one of the commoners. Approachable and earnest. And I… I do not." Luna's posture sagged again. "It may shock you, Miss Finish, but alicorn or not I am still a mare. I know that my jealousy and own petty ego has led once to disaster, but is it so wrong that I wish to be desired? To feel attractive? To--" She stopped, seeing how the photographer was gawking at her. "I… I suppose that yes, it must seem surprising that something so petty as ephemeral beauty would hold sway on a Princess. I should be better than this."

"What?!" Photo Finish pushed her glasses back up. "Nein! That is not why I am shocked! You are saying you are not seen as attractive? Impossible!"

A wry, sour smile slipped across Luna's lips. "I have empirical proof of it from the sometimes far too detailed dreams of Our citizens."

But Photo Finish wouldn't hear of it. "Nein! Impossible!" She stomped over to Luna with the fury of a manticore in mating season. "You are dark! Mysterious! Dangerous und tempting!" She flicked her tail, thumping the Princess in her flank and making Luna jump. "And you say ponies do not find you attractive? That is because they have not seen you as you are!"

"...Yes!" The embarrassment faded from Luna's voice, replaced by a more eager cheer. "Yes, exactly! They simply do not know me! I can be hot, too!"

"NEIN!" Photo Finish stomped her hoof. "You will be sexy! Spectacular! Seductive! Smoldering!" She decided that she also liked s-words. "Photo Finish must correct this error! She will not stand for such! Come! To ze studio!"

The photographer stalked off with fire in her soul, and Luna capered after her like a giddy teenager.

Princess Celestia raised an eyebrow at the Captain of the Solar Guard. "I presume there's a reason you decided that I needed pornography with my afternoon tea? Normally I have a few biscuits or a little pastry."

If, at that moment, the Captain had been able to turn himself inside out and disappear he would have. But that would have been a dereliction of duty, so he soldiered on. "Apologies, your Highness, but I took this off the hooves of one of your guards and felt it was important to show you immediately."

Celestia's other eyebrow raised.

Blush bright crimson against his white coat, the Captain simply flipped the magazine open and let the tri-fold feature picture unfold before the Princess.

Celestia's eyes went as wide as the saucer under her teacup.

"My… my sister is the centerfold?!"

Author's Note

Prompt: Based On A Song
Bonus: Must include two characters who have never interacted with each other in canon

On The Rocks

"Sister."

For a long moment, Celestia didn't react. The sight before her - the mesmerising, swirling eddies of color and sound and null-time - was captivating. Beautiful beyond measure. Something so wondrous that even an immortal alicorn had to pause and bask in the glory of truly unique art.

"Sister," came the more insistent prod.

Celestia didn't look away from the sky, but she did answer. "Yes, Luna?"

"Was that really necessary?"

There was no hesitation on Celestia's part. "I did what had to be done."

Beside her and similarly entranced by the chaotic beauty of the sky, Luna pursed her lips tightly as she searched for the right way to phrase it. "You…" She paused again. "You yeeted Discord into space hard enough to punch a hole through spacetime."

"He had it coming," Celestia blandly observed.

It was obvious that Luna didn't believe that. "I know that this may seem unimportant as your usual solution to having broken something is to have Twilight fix it for you, but I believe that 'the entire universe' is a bit beyond her current capabilities."

Much to Luna's frustration, Celestia shrugged.

Which made Luna frown deeper. "You are being remarkably blaise about this. Particularly as it may mean the end of all things."

"Call it a moment of clarity." Celestia tilted her head slightly as she looked into the kaleidoscope void. "I've wanted to hurl Discord off of something for centuries. I only restrained myself for so long because he was stone and I would have felt bad about shattering him."

Luna raised an eyebrow. "And more recently?"

"Fluttershy was doing a good job," came the clarification with another shrug.

"Also you made him Twilight's problem," Luna noted.

In Celestia's defense, she only hesitated a moment at that. "And because I made him Twilight's problem," she confirmed.

Shaking her head, Luna turned away from the sky's spectacle. Instead, she cast her gaze to the somewhat distant Twilight Sparkle who was - at current - hyperventilating into a paper bag, surrounded by her friends on the other side of the garden. "You really must be a bit better about doing that, sister. One of these days it's going to get you into trouble. Or possibly kill her."

"Twilight's resilient."

Instinctively, Luna scoffed. "She's not immortal."

Celestia - still staring at the sky - raised an eyebrow.

Luna pouted with a petulant moue. "'Tis an expression and you know what I meant."

They both lapsed into silence for a long minute, watching the sky riot and war against itself, creating colors and images no living creature had ever seen before. But the issue was unresolved, so they had to resume the conversation eventually. It was Celestia who did so. "I suppose, in the grand scheme of things, I probably should not have done that. It's just that Discord can be so… so…" She sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. "So infuriating, even when he's on his best behavior. Driving ponies up the wall is simply his nature, I understand that, but--"

"But simply because it is a scorpion's nature to sting does not mean one should tolerate it striking you," Luna completed. "I entirely understand. And there is likely no pony who has met him - dear Fluttershy included - who has not had the urge to at least throttle him a little. But this was too far."

A tiny giggle escaped Celestia's lips. "Yes, it was rather a far distance, wasn't it?"

Luna glowered at her sister, unamused.

Both went quiet for a few more moments.

They both looked skywards again, watching as several stars flickered and fell into the hole Discord had left in space. Celestia pouted. "Aw. Those were part of the constellation Aquila. I thought you did quite good work with that one." She shook her head. "Yes, perhaps I reacted a bit rashly. But what's done is done now. I can't un-throw him, and I'm fairly sure that hole is growing."

"None of the words you have just spoken sound to be a solution to this issue. Or even an apology for having caused it," Luna pointed out.

Celestia's indignant snort reeked of disdain. "And why should I apologize? Discord deserved it."

Reflexively, Luna returned fire. "And your ego deserved it when Nightmare Moon threw you through our castle wall."

The blow struck hard, jabbing in under Celestia's rib. She winced, looking away shame-faced. "I… I suppose that an apology is likely due to all the others that will be affected by this. But not Discord," she quickly added.

Luna rolled her eyes.

"Princess Celestia! Princess Luna!" Twilight came scrambling to their side, eyes wide and breaths heaving. "Don't worry! We've got a solution!"

Serenely, Celestia smiled. "As I knew you would, my student."

Despite her panic, Twilight still managed to squee a little. "We're going to use Starswirl's time travel spell. Fluttershy's never gone back in time before, so we can have her give a warning and prevent this from happening. She just needs to know what Discord did to make you do that so she can tell him not to."

Princess Celestia's smile wavered slightly. "Yes. Of course, that makes sense."

Then she didn't answer. Seconds ticked by awkwardly as Twilight waited and Celestia failed to respond.

Luna cleared her throat. Loudly.

Unwilling to give so easily, Celestia looked at the sky. And her hooves. And a particularly interesting push off to the left.

Luna cleared her throat again.

Finally, with a sigh, Celestia gave in. "Discord… propositioned me."

Twilight shuddered. "He what?"

"Propositioned me," Celestia repeated. "I was less insulted for myself and more incised that he would do that to poor Fluttershy! I didn't want to say because, well, she doesn't deserve to be hurt like that, the poor thing."

The bookish princess' face tightened and twisted into a disgusted scowl. "That… pervert! Now I'm glad you threw him! He deserved it after suggesting you--" Twilight paused, waiting for Celestia to fill in whatever filth Discord had dared to speak.

"Asking if I wanted a long, hard screw," Celestia completed with disgust.

The other two princesses stopped dead.

Very, very slowly, Luna closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Sister. What else did he say when he propositioned you."

Still furious, Celestia was more than happy to relate the rest. "He even suggested we run off to the beach to do it!"

"Sex on the beach," Luna repeated.

"Yes!"

With the patience of a saint, Luna reached over and put a hoof on her sister's shoulder. "Those are the names of drinks, dear sister. Discord was trying to be the bartender. The first one is a variant on the screwdriver - orange juice and vodka."

Princess Celestia's white coat managed to pale. She looked skywards to the collapsing universe and the hole that was slowly devouring all of existence. "...oh."

Author's Note

Prompt: Frustration
Bonus: Break something

Reap What You Sew

This story was published and appeared in Reap What You Sew.

Author's Note

Prompt: Emotional Wreck Of A Character
Bonus: It only takes place in one scene

Afterparty

"I have never been late to a party before," Pinkie Pie stated between sniffles. She was trying to sound firm and resolute, but her despair was undermining it faster than Maud clearing out an annoying vein of siltstone in an otherwise useful bed of shale. "There's been parties I couldn't get to or had to choose between, but I've never said I would be at one and been late before."

The start of further fuming came to her lips and then died. She knew the truth of it and sank back to her haunches. "Maybe it was the time change? I thought I could show up an hour early and get lots and lots and lots of time to set up! Then everything would be perfect before anypony got here. And, I mean, isn't that the best present a party guest can give to somepony who's throwing a party? To help them with the work so they can enjoy the party too?"

A glance to the clock on the wall - a dour-looking grandfather clock, cast in dark wood. It ticked away as the brass pendulum swung back and forth. The stately size and serious demeanor of it was countered by a spray of bright streamers dangling from it: pink and yellow and blue. The clock itself was perfectly on time - a slightly neurotic Twilight Sparkle had adjusted it from being a minute and a half slow when she arrived - and it was clear that Pinkie's claim to try showing up early was false.

"It had to have been the time change," Pinkie insisted, mostly to herself. She nodded with great assurance and confidence… and then sighed heavily. "It wasn't the time change. I'm just late. And that means I let everypony down."

She had very obviously missed the party by more than an hour. What once had been a riot of laughter and cheer was now quiet as a graveyard. All the guests had gone home, leaving behind the standard detritus of a good time. A mostly empty punch bowl, surrounded by used cups and filled with slowly melting ice. A pile of dirty paper plates and forks mounding out of the trash can. A piece of cardboard with exactly three pieces of cake left from an oversized sheet. Photos and books and mementoes which had been shared by the partygoers scattered around, left for somepony to clean up afterwards.

Steeling herself, Pinkie straightened her back and decided that she would be that somepony. "Well, I might have missed the party and wasn't here to help get it started, but the least I can do is help clean up! Everypony will appreciate that, at least!"

She took one step forward - just one - before her companion put a hoof on her shoulder to stop her. She looked back to him - and to his shake of the head.

Pinkie frowned. "I can't help? Not even that little bit?"

He shook his head again.

She pouted. "But I wanna help. They need--"

He shook his head again.

Pinkie corrected herself. "Alright, maybe they don't need my help, but they deserve my help. They're my friends, after all. What kind of a friend would I be if I didn't help them?" She paused, looking between her companion and the messy remains of the party. "It's the least I can do for not being here on time."

"PINKIE PIE, ONLY YOU WOULD WANT TO PUT OFF THE GREAT BEYOND TO CLEAN UP AFTER A PARTY." Death sighed, reaching out to take her hoof again. "COME. YOU WERE LATE TO YOUR OWN FUNERAL - LET'S NOT HAVE YOU BE LATE TO THE AFTERLIFE."

Reluctantly (and knowing she had no choice in the end), Pinkie took the offered hoof. Together, they slowly started away from the remains of her final party in Equestria. "So, do you know how long it's going to be before I see my friends again?"

"EVENTUALLY," Death intoned.

"I hope it's not for a long time. I'll be impatient, but the waiting's for a good reason." Pinkie paused as they reached the threshold of the doorway, looking back one last time. "It was a good party. All of it. Even the parts I missed."

And then she stepped through.

Author's Note

Prompt: Five Minutes Too Late
Bonus: Something unexpected completely changes the story direction/tone

For The Exposure

Rarity tittered. "I'm sorry, you would like to commission me for what?"

"A line of clothing," repeated the stallion.

"Yes, and you're from…?"

He straightened his back. "Well I represent a corporate interest that would prefer to be unnamed at the moment, but happens to own the Ogres & Oubliettes brand."

Rarity rolled her eyes. "Your company would prefer to remain unnamed, but you will happily tell me the name of one of your products that has the name of the company printed on every box and book."

The stallion shifted uneasily. "I don't make the rules, m'am."

"And," Rarity added, "When the time comes I expect not to be paid by A Party Whom Would Prefer To Remain Unnamed. Those cheques tend to not clear."

The stallion tugged at the collar of his suit.

Unamused, Rarity turned back to pick up her sketch pad. "Do you have a name, or should I guess that is also something you would prefer to be coy about."

That, at least, seemed to be a question the stallion could answer effectively. "Smart, m'am. Smart Aleck, Esquire. I run the firm with my uncle, Street Wise."

Rarity nodded. "Yes, the firm of Street & Smart is quite well known. It's a pleasure," she haughtily added, "To be able to address a potential client as something beyond 'hey you'." She paused. "Though if you don't mind me venturing, you do seem a touch young. Given the nature of your firm's reputation, of course."

"Of course. I actually took over for my father - Smart Mouth - fairly recently." Smart shrugged haplessly. "This is kind of a test case for me."

She gave another tittering laugh. "Which is why you're approaching me about a fairly mundane commission."

He nodded. "I am. Since the company would prefer to remain anonymous - for no real good reason as you point out - my firm has been contracted to set up the project."

There was a long, awkward pause that ended when Rarity held up her sketch pad and tapped a pencil against it while looking pointedly at the attorney.

"Oh! Yes, the details." Smart pulled out a pad of his own. "The commission is to create a line of clothing to commemorate the release of the next edition of Ogres & Oubliettes. We're looking for something to really represent the feelings of the game. And as we've been informed that you play yourself, it seemed a natural fit."

It took only a moment to realize who had mentioned that part, and Rarity beamed. "Oh, quite. While it's not often, I do have a few… adventuring companions. So in that way I suppose I would be a natural choice."

"Second, actually," Smart piped up. "The first choice was a mare named Kerfuffle. But she declined as she doesn't have the time in her schedule."

Rarity blinked. "Kerfuffle plays?"

Smart shuffled his pad to a different page. "She's a level fourteen barbarian."

Rarity only had one response. "Huh." But she straightened herself. "Well, either way I am interested. How many pieces would they like and at what rate?"

Another shuffling of paper before Smart responded. "The client is seeking a set of twelve - one for each class in the new rulebook - and they're offering a rate of twelve hundred bits."

Scratching her chin with the pencil, Rarity considered. "That's not a bad rate. Allowing for materials, design time… extra since each will obviously have to be unique. Hm. Yes, twelve hundred per should--"

Smart raised a hoof to stop her. "Ah, no. Not twelve hundred per. Twelve hundred total."

Rarity stared incredulously at him. "A hundred bits per outfit."

He nodded.

She closed her sketchpad back up. "Sir, I don't know what experience you have within the fashion industry but one hundred bits for an outfit won't even pay for the materials." Rarity paused for a beat. "If I used the absolute cheapest and worst fabrics I suppose I could get the costs to under a hundred but that doesn't even begin to pay for my own time."

"But that's the point!" Smart flipped his pages before turning it around to show Rarity the notes from his employer. In large letters was the triply-underlined statement HIGH FANTASY - LOW BUDGET. "We want to entice the buying public with clothing based off their favorite hobby but that won't break the bank!"

Unamused, Rarity pushed Smart's paper away. "So they can spend it on the books instead?"

He hesitated. "...And miniatures."

Behind him, the door opened, the handle turned by cornflower blue magic.

"Darling, I do appreciate the offer but I'm afraid that I cannot accept your commission at this time." Rarity smiled like a tax auditor. "Unfortunately I've suddenly found my schedule far too packed."

Smart didn't move. "But this is a golden opportunity! Think of it - everypony in Equestira who plays Ogres & Oubliettes will see your clothing! It will be featured in the rulebooks! Thousands will know your designs and directly associate them with the game!" Rarity's aura wrapped around him, lifting the attorney off the floor and marching him to the door. "What it doesn't pay in bits it certainly pays for in exposure!"

Rarity halted. For just a moment, Smart's smile returned as he got her attention. Then he noticed that her eye was twitching, and he realized that the pause was not one of temptation. It was one of fury.

"Exposure?" The rage in Rarity's voice could not be repressed or restrained. "Sir, perhaps I should demonstrate to you just what exposure means in my industry." Her horn hummed, popping a double corona as the magic charged up.

Smart's eyes got very very small.

"Wind is three knots south-south-west." Rarity squinted as she aimed. "Twenty-three degrees elevation, four degrees azimuth."

"M'am--"

Smart got out not a syllable more. Rarity released him, firing the attorney out of her shop like a slingshot. He screamed, legs flailing as he tumbled through the air, across the street and into the small creek that ran through Ponyville. The shot was dead on target: Smart landed directly in the center before skipping off the water's surface and coming to a final halt in the mud along the edge of the water.

Trotting out to her front steps, Rarity took a pleased look at her handiwork and nodded. "Expose yourself to humility, darling!" Then she returned to her work and slammed the door behind her.

Author's Note

Prompt: High Fantasy, Low Budget
Bonus: ~~No delete key; no moving the mouse cursor back to a previous position. Full steam ahead.~~

5 Pairs Of Shorts

Author's Note

Prompt/Prompt: Short Shorts (mix and match prompts and bonuses out of all those selected, all stories under 500 words.) (Primary prompt in caps lock first//bonus prompt second.)

5 Pairs Of Shorts

REWIND // All four seasons of the year are depicted in the story
198 words

Snow blanketed the ground, thick, heavy and wet like a dog that had gone swimming. Seconds passed and it melted, revealing a riot of red and orange leaves scattered across the ground. Those, in turn, leapt into the air and attached themselves to the bare tree branches, creating a wide expanse of beautiful foliage.

Moments later, the bright fiery colors dimmed, easing into cooler greens as the world around them warmed. Warmed and beyond, turning sweltering as the temperature reached a peak. Then, slowly, it slacked off again and eased into a pleasant warmth accompanied by a gentle rain.

As the rains passed a minute later, the leaves shrank to tiny buds before retreating inside the branches. And as they did, the air turned chill and flakes of soft snow began to fall from the sky.

With the patience of a saint (and because she had no other choice), Twilight waited for Discord to get it out of his system. It took a good five cycles through before he turned to her gleefully. "Isn't it wonderful?"

"Discord," the Princess muttered, "When I said that the seasons were reversed in the southern hemisphere, that is not what I meant."

THE DUALITY OF A MARE // Someone is a changeling
213 words

Sunset Shimmer crept into the bedroom. Everything was going according to her plan - she was in the Palace without being spotted, her path back to the Mirror was clear and now she was inside the room of the Princess' student. All she had to do was snatch the Element of Magic away, and unlimited power would be hers!

Carefully sneaking forward, Sunset pulled out the counterfeit Element to replace the real one with. Just a quick swap and--

Her eyes widened as Sunset saw the pony in the bed. The Princess' prize personal student - Sunset Shimmer. Sunset stared at her own sleeping face in the bed, so overcome with shock that she dropped her fraudulent crown on the floor.

The clatter of plastic on crystal echoed like a cannon - and Sunset found the strange other her's eyes open.

Both were frozen, unsure of what to do - until both knew exactly what to do.

The standing Sunset lit her horn half a heartbeat too late as the one in the bed spit a glob of a horrific green slime. Instantly hardening, the slime trapped Sunset against the floor as her doppelganger climbed out of bed.

"I love it when loose ends tie themselves," hissed the fake as it advanced on the helpless Sunset Shimmer.

DINNER CONVERSATIONS // All four Princesses are present
122 words

Sunburst shifted uneasily in his seat.

Beside him, Twilight shifted uneasily in hers.

Both of their plates were full of some of the finest food in the kingdom - because no less would be expected of the Palace chefs - but neither was eating anything.

The cause for that would be the company at the table: three alicorns (Celestia; Luna; Cadance), three unicorns (Twilight Velvet; Night Light; Shining Armor) and one dragon (Spike). All seven were looking directly at Sunburst with an intensity that would melt stone.

Without taking her eyes off of the unicorn, Twilight Velvet stabbed a fork into her eggplant parmesan and slashed her knife across it to cut it down to size. "So," she evenly intoned, "You're dating my daughter."

TWO SIDES OF A COIN // Character acts drunk
188 words

"BECAUSE MAAAAAAAAAAAYBE!" Rainbow Dash had lost her volume knob and simply belted out the lyric. Normally she was quite capable, but the number of bottles around her feet demonstrated to even a casual observer why she currently couldn't carry a tune in a bucket full of glue.

"MAAAAAAAAAAAAAYBE!" came the echo from the other Rainbow Dash beside her.

"YOU'RE GONNA BE THE ONE THAT SAVES ME!" The first one leaned heavily on the shoulder of her double, even as both swayed dangerously.

"SAVES ME!" The second leaned back into the first, supporting both of them much as an archway does: falling into each other to create stability.

"AND AFTER AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALL!"

Both joined in, holding their beer bottles high as they created the worst two part harmony yet heard. "YOU'RE MY WONDERWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALL!"

Glowering, Applejack tried to strangle Pinkie Pie with her mind.

The other Applejack was more articulate. "Let's take the ponies out to a bar, she says." The farmer didn't stop glaring at Pinkie. "They've never been humans before, she says. I bet they don't have karaoke in Equestria, she says."

Helplessly, Pinkie Pie just shrugged and smiled.

IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT // Unsympathetic protagonist
205 words

Everything was fire.

What few things weren't were ash.

Everything that reasonably could have burned incinerated days ago, leaving only things that could only burn unreasonably. Bricks, sand, metal… creatures caught a second too long under the sun that covered the entire sky from horizon to horizon.

Each hour, each minute it grew, though now there was no true way to tell as there was nothing left above beyond the raging fire. No creature that remained knew how much time was left before it consumed earth as well as sky.

Deep below the surface - down further than light could reach, deep enough that the searing heat was only sweltering and the all-pervasive light was just an afterimage when you closed your eyes - a tiny pegasus sat on her throne. At the foot lay an alicorn - mighty, gleaming like light itself, and throughly, entirely beaten. Celestia could barely raise her head for the injuries she had taken - bruises, burns, abrasions. But she still managed to fix Cozy Glow with one eye.

"Please," she begged. "With just a mote of magic--"

But the filly hardened her heart and would not be moved. "Better my kingdom burn," she declared, "Than it not be mine."

Between Family And Friend

This story was published and appeared in Between Family And Friend.

Author's Note

Prompt: Tragedy In Four Words
Bonus: Food/Drink related

The Ghost In The Secondary Sub-Basement Laboratory

Normally, Twilight Sparkle didn't believe in ghosts.

She also didn't believe in curses at one point, but in retrospect that had been an extremely narrow-minded approach which dismissed a swath of magical knowledge that was normally untouched by mainstream mages and wizards. (She had been right, she defended, in that Zecora hadn't cursed them during the Poison Joke incident. But that also brought up the rest of said incident and how Twilight had been wrong, so she rarely flexed her correctness on that point.)

The point was - ghosts weren't real.

At least, they hadn't been real.

Crystals glowed with eldritch energy. A tall jacob's ladder crackled as electricity ran up it. Dozens of beakers full of strange liquids bubbled and smoked. And at the center of it all sat a broad, open space. That open space was far more important than the rest, however - without the sprawling circle of sigils etched there, the spell would never work.

It was one of Twilight's greatest achievements: derived from the spells of a dozen ancient wizards, the summoning circle would channel the power of the tree-castle into a single point, tear open the barrier between life and death and - if all went according to plan - pull lost souls through. In retrospect, it had actually been pretty easy. (This was a very relative statement as she was the Element of Magic, an alicorn and had access to both the restricted section of the Royal Library and four out of the five most powerful spellcasters in modern Equestrian history.)

Getting the specific souls she wanted had been the tougher part. There was nearly no research on that aspect, partially because delving into the Realm Beyond was banned research for some weird reason and partially because the handful of rogue researchers who had tried generally were megalomaniacal crazies who were trying to create zombie armies. (The two points being related was not something which occurred to Twilight at the time.) But she had managed it - the spell to pluck specific spirits out was clumsy and awkward, but in theory it would work.

Now it was time to move past theory and intro practice.

It was high noon, to draw on the power of Celestia's sun.

She began.

Twilight slowly paced around the circle with careful, measured steps. Each forceful hoofstrike was accompanied by speaking one of the spell's component phrases in a clear voice as she lit one of the circle's specially prepared candles. Each flame that lit brought the unfathomably complex runes into flickering focus, and each word made one of the etchings light up with magical energy.

It took long minutes for Twilight to complete the cycle around her work, but when she reached where she began? The circle was aglow with both the burning flames of the candles and the magenta of her magic that had been infused into the mystic circle. All around her, the air shimmered with both heat and magical power - and the scent of raspberry and vanilla, oddly. (She made a mental note to herself: next time, do not borrow candles from Rarity.)

Next, Twilight aimed her horn to the center of the circle. It glowed brightly - both the horn and the point in space she was aiming at - as the second part of the spell began to weave itself. Two tiny pinprick holes formed as Twilight used unfathomable alicorn magic and raw will to pierce the heavens and create a gap between life and death. The holes were barely stable - wobbling and pulsating around the edges as reality itself struggled against Twilight's power to try and reform itself. But she held - and it held.

Something came out of the holes. Too miniscule to allow a whole entity to pass through, the pinholes oozed the things through in a thread-like length. They extruded themselves a little bit at a time like phantasmal pasta that fell to the well-warded floor and piled together. One lump of ghostly stuff glowed a muted orange-beige, while the other closely resembled lemon curd.

The ectoplasmic ooze piled up slowly - the beige eventually easing into a more vibrant orange and the lemony yellow into a stark ruby red. Just how much time it took, Twilight couldn't tell. Just that by the time both pinholes ran dry with a wet slurp, every atom of her body ached and her horn was hot enough to create steam from the air's ambient moisture.

But that wasn't important.

The two phantasmal figures in the circle were.

Bright Mac and Pear Butter, in the ectoplasm.

The wonder and magic of the moment was ruined by the fact both were dry-heaving and groaning in pain.

This did not stop Twilight Sparkle from celebrating wildly - dancing and whooping with the occasional shout of victory.

It took approximately three minutes for her to finish, which by coincidence was about how long it took the two ghosts to find their unsteady (and unphysical) legs. They looked uncertainly at her; she looked gleefully at them.

Pear Butter is the one who spoke - hesitantly. "Are… Where are we?"

"And you can talk! Wonderful!" Twilight squeed. "I wasn't certain how much cognitive function was retained post-mortem or if you could create speech without lungs to push air. I actually have four different spells prepared to facilitate non-verbal communication if it came to that. But it didn't!"

The two Apples looked at each other with concern. This time, it was Bright Mac who stepped up. "That's nice an' all, but we could use a few details 'bout what's happening here. If ya don't mind. "

That time was enough - the polite but forceful request pierced Twilight's academic glee. "Oh! Right, yes, I'm sorry! I'm just so excited this worked!" She beamed brightly at the two deceased. "I'm Princess Twilight Sparkle, and this is the lab in the basement of my castle in Ponyville. I've been trying to bring both of you back - and it worked!" She descended into gleeful cantering again, bouncing in place.

"Ponyville?" Pear Butter's eyes went wide. "Wait - do you know our family? The Apples?"

Twilight responded with a laugh. "Do I know them? Of course I do! They're the whole reason I wanted to bring you back!"

Joy spread over both Apple faces - love and joy and eager relief. "Well then! C'mon! Let's go see 'em!"

A pad of paper and a quill levitated over to Twilight. "Sure, sure, we'll do that in just a minute. But first I need your help real quick to do what I brought you back for." Dipping a bit of ink to the quill tip, Twilight fixed the Apples with her inquisitive gaze. "So I'm dating your daughter and I need ideas for her anniversary present."

Author's Note

Prompt: The Ghost In The Room
Bonus: Teach something in the story

Who We Are In The Shadows

One thing that Fluttershy had learned was that senses are funny and unpredictable things. Her animal friends talked enough about it to teach her many lessons - how cats couldn't see red colors or what an ultrasonic whistle sounded like to a bat. One sense affected the others, and what you couldn't sense was often as important as what you did.

She knew it, too, from her own experiences. How a quiet thump in the darkness was far different - louder, closer, more panic-inducing - than an identical one she heard in the middle of the day. Changing the environment you sensed something in changed all the context about it, even with things you would think were absolute and immutable.

That, of course, didn't help any. It didn't make her hackles raise less when an unexpected something brushed her leg, nor did it settle her stomach when she scented something unfamiliar far too close. Or - in a moment such as this - she heard a scream in the distant dark.

It could have been anything, really. A foal playing on a swingset instead of being in bed, a couple having a night of passion, Pinkie Pie existing… Or it could be the last sounds of a timberwolf ambush, a pony stumbling off a ledge in the night, a nightmare gone out of control…

Or Discord. Who, as much as Fluttershy cared for him, could easily be on either side of the equation.

The doubt would wreak havoc in her mind, Fluttershy knew that. Particularly in the darkness, with so much of her normal senses taken from her? The sound would dwell. It would bleed into the rest as she replayed it in her mind and searched for an explanation. Picking it apart to find a reason behind it until it seeped into more than just a sound. Until her imagination pushed it into a feeling in her stomach and along her spine. Until she could taste the blood on the theoretical timberwolf's jaws. Until she could see movement out of the corner of her eye that wasn't there.

Hiding wouldn't help. Fluttershy knew that from experience. Putting her head under a blanket and cowering would only make things worse - half the problem (most of the problem, if she was being honest) was inside her own mind and there was no hiding from that.

But knowing she had to forge out into the night to try and dispel her imagination's ghosts and actually doing it were two different things.

It was easier to be brave than it used to be. It helped not just to have innumerable friends both animal and pony who would help her if needed, but to have a safety net. A panic button she could hit at any time with a scream of her own - one loud cry of his name and Discord would be at her side in an instant. Possibly earlier, given his mercurial relationship with linear time.

That was a comfort no other could boast, and Fluttershy knew it. She knew that if that sound was truly something terrible, she would be saved. That the instant before a claw landed on her it would be turned from timberwolf to butterscotch pudding.

A tiny part of Fluttershy was actually disappointed by that lack of risk.

The rest of her was fine with it - it helped her find the courage to throw off her sheets and climb out of bed.

She still tread as lightly as she could, each hoofstep placed with the utmost care to move around the floorboards that squeaked (and the mice that also squeaked.) Bit by bit she crept out of her bedroom, ears rotating to catch the slightest hint of another sound.

And it was there, causing her to freeze halfway across the living room. Not a scream this time but the quiet scrape of hoof on stone and dirt. Somepony was coming. Somepony was outside.

Fluttershy's heart sped up, rap-tap-taping inside her chest like a hoof would soon be beating on her door.

She had a safety net, she reminded herself. Even if it was somepony who wanted to hurt her, they'd never get the chance. She was protected. There was nothing to fear.

Fluttershy still had to brace herself with a deep breath - held in and ready to scream into the darkness for her savior.

The door was flung open before the approaching pony could knock. Fluttershy's mouth was already open, ready to scream…

Flitter was already in her face. "Fluttershy! Please!" Her panic eclipsed Fluttershy's own a minute before. "It's Killer, he needs…" She stumbled on her words. "I don't know what he needs, but please!"

That had been it - that sound in the dark. Fluttershy's fears had been right: that scream had been something terrible. A pony in pain, a creature in need. But at the same time, it wasn't so bad. This was a terror she understood. She could deal with it. Her heart and her mark cried out to stare the fear down.

"Take me to him."

Author's Note

Prompt: A Scream In The Dark
Bonus: Use imagery based on synesthesia (tasting colors, seeing sounds etc.)

The Little Death

This story was published and appeared in The Little Death.

Author's Note

Prompt: Aggressive Aerobic Activity
Bonus: Someone close to Celestia must die