When Oranges FlyView OnlineA Thousand and One Problems but an Apple Ain't OneWhen Oranges Fly There were over a thousand of them swarming the skies. Feathered wings gave way to a furious inferno of orange death as the army of abominations flew down on Ponyville, and amidst it all an azure unicorn and her purple-grey apprentice ran to gather their friends. "This is the last time I have you try to turn apples into oranges!" Trixie yelled. "It's not my fault I hit the bird!" Dinky responded. "And you're the one that made the crack about orange juice!" A small squadron of oranges swooped down at them upon hearing that forsaken pair of words. "I just want to know how it got so many friends!" the filly shouted, ducking under the assault. Trixie almost tripped as she held down the urge to vomit at the memory. The truth of the matter was that apparently the story of the birds and the bees had never had produce thrown into the genetic mix. It had taken all her power to keep up an illusion that held her apprentice’s innocence, and possibly sanity, in check. "Oh, I'm pretty sure they just magically multiply like parasprites. At least they're too busy attacking us now to bother multiplying any more." The two continued to canter towards Bon Bon’s Bon Bons, which was the agreed upon post-training place to meet up with the others and relax for a bit. Hopefully, they’d make it there before the orange menace. New magic was whimsically unpredictable at the best of times and maliciously destructive at it’s worst. Given the fact that a pony would have to be mad to find any practical reason to turn a bird into an orange in the first place, Trixie was pretty sure this fell under the category of new and unpredictable magic. There was no telling what bizarre abilities the half-bird, half-orange monstrosities were capable of using against their friends. Buildings flashed past the two as they sped down roads, no longer talking in an effort to conserve breath. Finally, their target came in sight. Fortunately, it had yet to be barraged by the brutal swarm of Vitamin C they had created. That was about to change with the swarm’s main targets running up the doorsteps. “Let us in! Let us in!” yelled Trixie and Dinky, beating on the door with all their might. Oranges dove at the duo, and Trixie barely managed to deflect them back into the air. After firing off a few illusionary fireworks to blind them, Trixie turned back to the door. “I swear to Luna. If you don’t let us in, I’ll-” The sound of furniture moving in front of the door interrupted her. The door opened to reveal a cannon, of all things, and the manic grin of the hyper, and possibly trigger happy, pink pony behind it. “Hi guys! You might want to duck!” Pinkie Pie chirped. Trixie and Dinky happily complied as a shrill voice rang out from the background. “Fire the cannon, Cap’n Pinkie!” A blast of confetti and party streamers soared over their heads driving off the winged beasts, and the two unicorns crawled inside. ….. The delicious scent of candy filled the duo’s nostrils as they tried to catch their breath. Normally, the room was filled with shelves upon shelves of all kinds of delectable sweets and a small counter to ring up sales in the back. Right now, however, the candy was stacked behind the counter and the shelves were on the floor barricading the rooms inhabitants from anything that might slip through the door. Pinkie Pie was currently wheeling the cannon back into the makeshift trenches, and Ditzy Doo, Lyra, and Bon Bon were armed to the teeth with kitchen utensils. The source of the shrill voice that had ordered the orange’s sugar scented doom stood on top of the counter grinning at them like it was Hearths Warming Eve. “Hey, Dinky!” he said in a Trotingham accent. “I know we joked about playing army today, but you didn’t tell me you were bloody well going to make one!” “Hey, Pip.” said Dinky as she got to her feet. Trixie had moved into a huddle with the other elements and was filling them in. “Nice to see you made it... or it would be if there was actually time to hang out like we planned.” A couple of dull thuds sounded against the doorway. “There was a little bit of a problem with today’s training that we still have to deal with first.” “Ahh... It’s not a big deal,” the colt chuckled. “You more than made it up to me when I got to order that cannon to fire. We’ll just have to drive those scurvy dogs off before we meet up with the others.” “You do know what causes scurvy, right Pip?” Dinky laughed. “I suppose that’s our best option right now, although, if anypony would know how to stop this, it’s Trixie.” ….. “What do you mean you don’t know how to stop them?!” Bon Bon hissed quietly. Her brow narrowed, and her ear twitched with agitation. “They’re attacking my livelyhood, and you don’t know how to stop them? Didn’t you learn not to mess with magic you don’t know how to reverse after you turned Lyra into a bear?” Lyra blushed at the memory. Trixie snorted. “For the last time that wasn’t my fault. It was those stupid translators and you know it.” “Well then, why don’t you know how to reverse this?” the other unicorn in question enquired. “You’re supposed to be the resident expert on magic.” “Yeah,” Bon Bon drawled, “I’d hate to have and go tell Twilight the position is finally open.” “Bon Bon...” Lyra warned. “What have I said about giving others a chance to explain? You can’t just jump down somepony’s throat when they do something you don’t like.” The candymaker shuffled around on her hooves. “But...” Lyra shook her head. “No buts.” It took a few seconds, but Bon Bon finally sighed. “Fine...” With a nod from Lyra, Trixie began hesitantly. “I don’t know how to reverse this because I had no idea it could happen. The only thing that spell was supposed to do was turn apples to oranges and vice versa. I know how to reverse that.” “Then why can’t you reverse it now?” asked Ditzy, tilting her head to the side. “It’s the same exact spell, isn’t it?” Trixie shuffled about uncomfortably. “Sort of...” As her friends’ eyes narrowed into glares Trixie hastily continued. “I didn’t change anything in the spell. It was Dinky!” “Are you saying you let my daughter simply mess with spells for amusement?” Ditzy’s tone was anything but amused. “No! It’s just-” The master magician hesitated. “It’s just-” She tried to find the right words for it. “Remember that block Twilight told you Dinky was having with her magic lessons?” “Yes.” muttered Ditzy, still glaring at Trixie with one eye. “Well it took me awhile, but after watching Dinky cast magic for a bit I realized the reason she was having difficulty was because she casts magic a bit differently from everypony else.” “What do you mean she casts differently?” asked Lyra. “As far as I know there’s only a couple ways to cast. Dinky isn’t using song spells, and I know for a fact even you wouldn’t introduce her to the old barbaric method of focuses and fetishes.” “They used what to cast magic?!” Ditzy sputtered in horror. “Not that kind of fetish!” Lyra hastily interposed herself between Ditzy and her friend as the mailmare’s muscles tensed. “It’s a kind of magical focus that uses spiritual rather than arcane energy.” “Oh...” said Ditzy blushing at the misunderstanding. After a couple of seconds of awkward silence, she pawed at the ground. “Care to continue?” “I’m not sure how to describe it honestly,” the azure unicorn said with a rare hint of humility. “Most normal spells will normally have some restrictions and limitations built into them to stop something from going horribly wrong. The original Apple to Orange Spell was like this in that it was meant only to turn apples into oranges, and the only way to bypass these limitations is to send a huge surge of power through them. Only a unicorn as powerful as somepony like Twilight could do that without having to tweak the spell, and, as skilled as she is, Dinky just isn’t that powerful.” Trixie shook her head. “Dinky is different though. It’s hard to explain, but there are a number of unicorns who simply can’t cast magic when there are limits and binds built into their spells. They function best when their magic is left unfettered and free.” “Care to say that in a way that isn’t poetically vague?” enquired Bon Bon. Trixie laughed. “You think I wouldn’t have given one if I could? You of all ponies should have learned from Lyra that magic is as much an artform as it is science. She literally uses music to augment her spells.” The cream earth pony looked down slightly abashed. “It is infuriatingly vague though,” said Trixie, sighing. “I asked Luna about it, and she just smiled coyly and gave me an even vaguer answer than I just gave you. You’re getting the condensed version of it. Consider yourself lucky.” “I’ll consider myself lucky when I’m no longer being attacked by little orange balls that want to beat me into a pulp,” muttered Bon Bon. “Then it’s a good thing I gave you the short version, because you’ve got a lot of work ahead of you!” retorted the magician with a snicker. “What do you mean I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me?” asked Bon Bon darkly. “Well, what we need right now...” Trixie gave a dramatic flourish, “is a distraction!” “And just what is Bon Bon going to do for this distraction?” asked Lyra stepping between the two. “Nothing much,” answered Trixie. “She just has to help me whip up a second army of fruit-bird hybrids in the spare lab her mom keeps here.” “You want me to make a second army?!” sputtered Bon Bon. “Well, it’ll actually be you and Dinky. I’ll be too busy keeping up a rather complicated illusion up to keep you safe,” said the magician “From what?” asked Lyra, her eyes narrowing. “Trust me. You don’t want to know,” said Trixie, her face turning a peculiar shade of green. “Just promise me you’ll burn the lab afterwords.”
It Takes Two to Tango with a MangoView OnlineA Thousand and One Problems but an Apple Ain't OneIt Takes Two to Tango with a Mango Bon Bon’s mother had always been eccentric to say the least. Some ponies said she was a few apples short of a fruit basket, but Trixie had come to realize in her dealings with Bon Bon that it was much more than that. She was in fact a few sea cucumbers short of a vegetable basket. A pony might argue that a sea cucumber wasn’t a vegetable, with which Trixie would heartily agree. The fact of the matter was after seeing Bon Bon’s mother’s lab a few times, the magician was positive that there had never been any real vegetables in that basket to begin with. Massive vats of chemicals lined the walls with various sinister-looking fruits, herbs and vegetables floating within them. Some were shriveled and black, while others grew into huge and grotesque shapes. One gathering of grapes even looked suspiciously like a bunch of eyeballs following them around. Benches filled with dissected delicacies littered the room; their poor occupants appearing to be in the throes of agony over what only an overzealous health nut would think of in the name of progress. Trixie had seen and tasted many an odd item over the years, but never before this lab had she ever thought that it was possible for there to be food best left forgotten by ponykind. That wasn’t the end of it though, for the lab’s master had many, many plans. And those plans were etched in chalk on the giant blackboards that lined the ceiling. From afar they appeared almost akin to a work of art. The notes spiraled and and danced hypnotically about in swirling patterns surrounding the various sketches. From a casual glance among the catwalks the labratory’s master used to write her notes a pony saw only the work of a true scientist. They saw the formula and observations of one who’s only desire was to perfect the art of making food. It was only when a pony stood on their tiptoes and scrutinized the small dark writing written within the chalk lines did they see just how mad the scientist’s goals truly were. She wanted nothing more than the complete and utter destruction of sugary sweets. It wasn’t enough to make a healthy alternative. For the laboratory’s master there was no alternative. Today, however, this dark testament to the horrors of science would be host to the creation of the only hope for the town. “Tell me again why we need to come down here?” asked Dinky as she carefully maintained the smallest amount of volume she possibly could in the laboratory. Bon Bon was clearing the benches for whatever was going to happen while Trixie was trying to pick her weapon of choice. “Because we don’t want the oranges to have any idea what we’re doing,” answered her mentor, tossing a strawberry as large and fragile as a rotten tomato with a splat into the garbage. She examined the jar of eye-like grapes for a second before setting them back with a shudder. “I suppose I also might have done it because it’s only proper to create yet another monster to society here, but that’s just the showmare in me,” she added as an afterthought. “Every show needs a proper setting after all, but that’s not the important part.” Trixie turned and ruffled her students mane. “The important part is that you’re going to be whipping up quite a bit of magic for this. We don’t want to burn Bon Bon’s place down, and I figured, with all the crazy stuff that goes on down here, this would be the room most likely to survive any more little accidents.” “Burn my what do-” Bon Bon began to ask, only to be buried in an avalanche of parts from one bench. “Yeah... about that...” Dinky began hesitantly. “Are you sure this is the best idea? If one fruit monster was so bad, what makes two any better?” “Nothing at all,” said Trixie, “It’s just the easiest way I can think of to provide a distraction for them. We have no idea about the abilities of those oranges. They could be holding back the ability to spit extra acidic orange juice at us for all we know.” She tossed a rather bulbous pineapple over her shoulder. Rather than bouncing off the wall its little spikes made it stick right to it. “If we give them something else to think about, whether it’s a bunch of new friends or a bunch of new enemies, then it’ll give us a little time to get to my house. I’m pretty sure I remember Twilight’s old books having a spell that claims it’ll fix anything and everything you throw it at. Not sure whether it’s lying or not, but it’s worth a shot.” “You still have those books?” Dinky laughed. “You know how much Twilight’s been complaining recently about the fact that she doesn’t have any real books to help her research?” “Bah! She puts too much stock in those things.” Trixie tossed another strawberry over her back. It hit the pineapple with a sickening squelch and remained impaled upon it. “And, besides, some of those real books are supposed to be locked away. I’m still trying to figure out how to tell the Princess I held onto a few.” Dinky giggled. “And I suppose you’re delaying that to squeeze out every little thing you can get out of them.” “Shush, you!” Trixie retorted before raising her hooves in triumph. “Aha! This is perfect!” In her hooves was an ordinary mango. There were no scorch marks or pus-filled sores in it. It wasn’t swollen and squishy or shriveled and black. It was perfectly ordinary. That was about to change. “Took you long enough,” said Bon Bon clearing the final table. “Do you actually need me for anything, or am I just here to clean up?” “You’re here for a reason! You know the lab better than anypony else!” Trixie replied hastily. “But I’m an earth pony! I can’t cast magic. All you’re doing is casting a spell!” said Bon Bon, shaking her head. “The more I think about it, the more I don’t think I need to be here to help,” She turned towards the stairs. “I’m going back up.” “Don’t leave!” shouted Trixie drawing the other’s stares. She shuffled her hooves for a couple secs before sighing. “The last time I was here alone one of your mom’s experiments tried to eat me...” “Then why did you insist on coming down here?” asked Bon Bon. “I already told you why,” grumbled Trixie. “Just stay here to keep the experiments under control, please...” she said, glancing down as she kicked at the ground. Bon Bon looked around the lab at the dubious and undoubtably disastrous delicacies before reluctantly mumbling her response. “Fine... Just don’t ask me to do my mom’s laugh when we get this shindig on the road.” “Deal,” said Trixie. “Now here’s the plan. Dinky’s casting a spell to turn the mango partway into a bird, and I’m casting a spell to shield your sanity from the result. If anything on the benches decides me and Dinky look like a tasty snack while we’re busy casting, feel free to buck it to next tuesday. Otherwise, stay as still as possible so you don’t break the illusion. Got it?” Bon Bon shook her head. “Good!” said Trixie, tossing her head back and giving her best grin. “Then I suppose all that’s left is to cast the spell. Ready, Dinky?” “Ready!” piped the unicorn, as her horn began to glow. ….. Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes of construction noises, warning sirens, thunking, bumping, crackling, cackling and other various unsettling noises later, Trixie opened the door to the basement. Thousands upon thousands of flying mangos burst forth from its confines to slam into and through the front door into the wide open sky. Trixie herself followed them in a stumbling daze. She didn’t notice Dinky bouncing past her to talk to the others about what they just did, or Bon Bon heading off to the kitchen to wash her hooves of the vegetable ichor. She merely staggered to the back of the store in an attempt to process what she had been forced to witness for the second time that day. She wanted to lie down. She needed to lie down. But the couch was already taken. Lyra was strewn on the couch. Her normally cheerful mint coloring was now mottled with patches of pus green. As Trixie entered the room, the mint green turned towards her, and the look in her eyes said it all. “You just had to try and find out what I was protecting Bon Bon from, didn’t you?” Trixie sighed. Lyra didn’t respond for a couple seconds. Shock tends to do that to a pony. But, finally, very slowly, she nodded her head
Two Fruit Bird Thingy-ma-jigs with One StoneView OnlineA Thousand and One Problems but an Apple Ain't OneTwo Fruit Bird Thingy-ma-jigs with One Stone There was pulp everywhere. Fruit juice flowed through the streets like sweet sugary blood, and the ravenous caws and war cries of the warring produce filled the air. The fresh scent of tangy citrus and delectable mango filled the air like the sickeningly sweet smell of something burning. The soft reds and yellows of the mangos danced amidst the harsh and overpowering color of the orange oranges. While the oranges had a size advantage on the mangos, the mangos appeared to be much faster than the orange menace. Their wings fluttered fast enough to bring hummingbirds to mind. That extra speed allowed them to poke and prod at the oranges and thin the heard. It gave the mangos a huge advantage before one factored in the acid. “I thought you were joking about the oranges being able to spit acid Miss Trixie,” said Dinky, staring at the carnage around them. “I was.” Trixie sighed. She shook her head and started walking forward. “Right now we just need to get to the residency. If we can find that book it’ll be like none of this ever happened. It’ll be killing two birds with one stone.” The silence that followed was instant and all consuming. So quickly did it fall that it took Trixie about ten seconds of trotting to realize she could hear nothing but her hoofsteps. Looking at the sky she realized every single mango and orange was looking at her. Given that they didn’t have eyes, this was impressive. It was also terrifying. “M-miss Trixie?” Dinky ventured, moving close to her mentor. “Remember how they didn’t like the orange juice joke?” “Yeah,” Trixie said in a whisper, hardly daring to breathe. “Do you think they’ll behave any better for an old griffen saying about killing birds?” Dinky inched forward a little more. “They might,” said Trixie faintly. A small glob of acid landed at their hooves with a hiss. “Then again, they might not,” Trixie amended. “So what are we going to do?” asked the little filly as she finally reached her mentor. Trixie laughed shakily and ruffled her apprentices mane. “What do you think?” she said. “We run.” And thus it was for the second time that day Trixie and her apprentice started to run from a terrifying swarm of deadly fruit and a misfortunate turn of phrase. ….. The beginning of the chase wasn’t as bad as it could have been, even though they were surrounded on all sides by a pretty powerful flock of fruit that packed quite a punch. Trixie had learned her lesson the first time, and, having realized the flying produce could easily keep up with her and her apprentice, had been gathering her focus until the second she said run. Rather than actually running away, she used the last of her strength to cast several spells that would give them a lead. First, she whipped up an enormous dust cloud from the wreckage. It wasn’t anything particularly fancy, only a slight moderation to her telekenisis that had it acting like a giant broom kicking up dust. Second, she cast an illusion spell to create an image of both her and Dinky bolting from the dust cloud towards the opposite end of town. With a little extra dirt here and there, as well as a couple of small tears to the cape and a slight stagger in the image’s step, she made it look like they were far too tired to cast any more spells. With such a weak and helpless prey available to them, Trixie could hear the excited energy filling the fruity predators’ wings as they flew off in pursuit of the illusion. Third, she reached out with her telekinesis and yanked Dinky away from the cloud edge, because the little filly, of course, wouldn’t dare to disobey her beloved mentor and had started running. Trixie couldn’t have that. It’d ruin the illusion. And, fourth and finally, she dumped the rest of her energy into the simplest glamour she could think of, and she had it fall like a paper thin cloth around them. It was one of the simpler glamours that fed off of other people’s expectations rather than the caster’s explicit instructions on what should appear as. They took less energy to cast, but she couldn’t be sure of what the two of them actually looked like. All she knew was that the oranges and mangos would find them completely and utterly boring. They could be a couple of random ponies, or perhaps a dog and a cat. They could even look like a cardboard box for all Trixie knew. Unfortunately this meant there was no real way to make the illusion believable under any scrutiny. It was nothing more than an image. It didn’t sound right. It didn’t smell right. It definitely didn’t taste right. All that was left to make it believable was how the two of them acted to carry on the illusion. Of course, since they didn’t know what they looked like, it was rather hard to act appropriately. That meant sticking to the shadows. Hopefully, if the orange menace caught sight of them there, it’d be for the briefest of seconds and they wouldn’t notice any irregularity in the glamour. The walk to Trixie’s residence was made in tense silence. The diversion had worked better than expected, and there were only a few leftover swarms in the sky. Both ponies hardly even dared to breathe as they lurked from ally to ally, wondering how long it would be until their ruse was discovered. They made it halfway before a multitude of unearthly shrieks of rage filled the air. The sweet and high pitched chirps of the mangos were like a thousand needles to the brain, while the wheezy acidic voice of the oranges made ponies shiver to their bones. Suddenly, the few remaining swarms flew away, bolting for the source of the noise. As the screams continued, the wind started to pick up. The clouds darkened, and thunder rang through the land. The two unicorns began to feel the magic in the air begin to stir. It was being drained from the air, and drawn towards the screaming. So strong was the pull that it unraveled the glamour around them with ease. The magic gathered and gathered until a spell of epic proportions was cast at the epicenter of the rage. A shockwave of residual magic blew past them, and a roar filled the air. They could feel the eye of whatever had been created turn towards them with baleful anger. And it was this that made them run with terror. The wump of displaced air that only came from the largest of wings filled the air in a slow steady beat. Wump. “Never again,” Trixie muttered. Wump. “Never ever again.” She turned to her student as they ran the final stretch to her house. Wump. “You are banned from ever casting transmogrification spells ever again,” Trixie said as they crossed the threshold of the door. Wump. “Especially if we have to deal with this every time.” The magician gave a nervous laugh as the two of them tore through the house to her office. Crash She ignored the ominous shudder caused by several tons of produce hitting the ground. “For the last time, it’s not my fault!” said Dinky as they scoured the bookshelves in Trixie’s office. Trixie couldn’t help but think that she’d said the exact same thing when the ice palace fiasco had happened. The roof began to groan and creak as the monster outside began to tear off the roof. Trixie thought it might buy them a few minutes, but that thought was banished as a cracking sound filled the air. “Got it!” yelled Dinky pulling an enormous leather bound book from the shelf. There was no discernable title, only an eight pointed star that Trixie assumed was the cutie mark of the author. As her student started to flip through the pages at a furious rate the roof gave way. It was ripped clean off, along with the second floor, to reveal the monster they’d created. A dragon of every fruit imaginable graced their presence. It had blood-red tomatos for eyes, and foot long bananas for talons. Durians climbed down it’s back like spines, and grape vines lined the membranes of it’s wings. Its scales were an ever-shifting mass of oranges and mangos, but it’s softer underbelly was lined with fuzzy peaches. It looked at them and roared before reaching towards Dinky. Without thinking Trixie threw herself at her student, pushing her to the side before talons as sharp as steel grabbed her. “Hurry up!” Trixie shouted as she was drawn towards banana shaped teeth. She could smell the fruity tang of the beast’s breath as she approached its gullet. She tried to gather the energy to cast a spell, but she’d spent the last of it in their escape from the candy store. It was only the silent thrum of gathering magic behind her that gave her hope. Just as she hit the slimy, lime-flavored tongue of the dragon, she felt the magic unleash itself. Teeth descended, and just as the magic passed her Trixie felt something nick her flank. She was alive. She was alive. She was well. And she was apparently falling from where the beast’s mouth should have been. With a startled yelp Trixie plummeted. She closed her eyes to avoid seeing the end, and so she missed the flash of magic from one more spell from Dinky. As she met the ground, she expected to hear a crack before everything went black. Instead there was a soft thump, and the magician felt herself enter the embrace of the fluffiest pillow ever created. Opening her eyes just enough to she it was a shade of greyish purple, she sighed. “Dinks?” Trixie asked. “Yeah?” replied her student wearily. “You used transmogrification to make this, didn’t you?” Trixie muttered. “Yeah,” came the reply. “You do know I wasn’t kidding when I banned you from using transmogrification spells, right?” the magician said. “N-no?” The reply was shaky. “Well, I wasn’t, and you’re grounded.” Trixie said. “Okay,” said Dinky with the sleepiness of somepony too tired to care. “Dinks?” said Trixie after a while of silence. “Yeah?” came the reply. “Thanks.”