Unhinged

Chapters

Swallow the Meek [Comedy]
Apple Family Feud [Comedy]
Vacation Pony Paladin [Adventure]
Howling Me"Pinkie's Lassoeratorseshoes!"A True, Trap [Random]
Mega-Pony Trophytershy's Owl [OC, Slice of Life]
(Daring Do and the) Flawless Horseshoe [Adventure]
Mass Squade Balloon [Slice of Life, Thriller?]
Debt (Or: Trial by Fire) [Dark] [Conteſt Entry]
Merry Mutiny [Drama-ish]
Explode Twice [Adventure Comedy]
Resident Elder's Map [Adventure]
Species Relocation [Slice of Life]
Horrible Mechanical [Slice of Life, OCs]
Overwhelming [Comedy?]
Dust Burglassical [Comedy]
Combat Bakery Wreckerellac / Draconic Griffin / Swing Family Feuding [Random-ish, Comedy]
Megavitaminational Guard Airship [Mini-drama]
Blatant Mailpony Diplomat [Slice of Life]
Sneezing System [Slice of Loaf] [Georg's "The One Who Got Away"]

Swallow the Meek [Comedy]

Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie settled down on one of the ‘nice’ piles of hay in Griffonstone’s only library. Gilda had sent them an invitation to see how much had changed in the months since their last visit, not that Rainbow needed any more reason than to visit her friend to make the trip. Still, she had expected a little more than a few griffons idly chatting with each other on the streets, but Gilda had been bursting with excitement ever since they arrived at the train station. She had practically dragged them along the whole way into town, too, before Rainbow finally asked her what was so important.

Gilda had replied, “Grampa Gruff’s telling his stories without charging for them!”

That got Pinkie Pie on board, but Rainbow still wasn’t sure why ‘an example of griffon pride returning’ was such an exciting thing. Gilda assured her that Gruff’s selection for the day was about a battle with a dragon, so she now sat next to Pinkie and about a half-dozen other griffons in a library small enough to fit through Twilight’s front door, and by the looks of things, it had more holes in the roof than books on its shelves. When she had asked about that aspect of Griffonstone earlier, Gilda explained that its griffons weren’t exactly ‘ready’ for a community project.

Gruff took up a place in front of the largest set of shelves and cleared his throat.

* * *

Many moons— Hundreds of moons ago, were Griffonstone’s darkest days. The loss of the Idol of Boreas was devastating in more than one way…. The dragons heard word upon the wind of our waning pride and shameful failure to stop Arimaspi. In the months that followed, they ransacked our lands, claiming every trinket, bauble, and bit for themselves. Some tried to stop them, but the dragons’ taunts were too much for them.

Finally, there was nothing for else for them to take. They left. For a while.

Years later, I was a sentry of Guto’s guard stationed at Gordon’s Beak – one of our farthest outposts at the time, quite a ways west I think.... It was there that I met the dragon. I had heard about them, but it was something else entirely to hear one of their insults echoing across the valley:

“Stupidheads!”

It was enough to drive a spike of ice right through your heart! We endured taunts for days. The beasty would come out every morning, and if he caught sight of you, you were lucky if he only called you a “pushover”. None of my comrades wanted to do anything about it, of course. Dragons were terrifying creatures, and we were but a young flock of hopefuls, looking for a way out of the darkness that Griffonstone had become. In the end, we just found something worse.

It wasn’t one day past a week of this onslaught that I knew we had to stand up to him. His taunts were only growing in savagery. He even called us “scaredy-cats” at one point.

I told the others, but they wouldn’t have any of it! “Fine,” I said to them. “I’ll chase him off myself!” So I went outside, and waited for him to show himself. I didn’t have to wait very long.

I saw it speak with its great jaws before I heard its cruel words: “Fish Brain!”

He may have struck first, but I wasn’t going to let him win. I leaned forwards, and yelled my own insult back at him: “Drool Face!” I can remember the dumbstruck face he made when he heard me as if it were yesterday!

Of course, it isn’t that easy to convince a dragon to leave. He called me a “Bald Eagle” AND I STILL HAD ALL OF MY FEATHERS! He got my blood burning.

We exchanged dozens, if not, hundreds of insults, until finally:

“Smelly Tail!” I called.

“Fart Feathers!” he called back.

Never had I felt so insulted. He had crossed a line. If I was to come out on top, I had to strike hard. So I did. To take away what makes a dragon feel like a dragon is how to crush them, so I looked this mighty, fire-breathing dragon in the eye and called him a cold-blooded minty-breathed amphibian that couldn’t hold a candle to a matchstick!

I knew I had him then. He was shaking where he stood, and there wasn’t a thing he could do to stop himself. I still had to chase him off, of course, so I went in for the kill.

“Your mother was a fish,” I shouted, “and your father smelt of salmonberries!”

Finally, it was too much for him to take. “Aaugh!” he screamed, and turned his smelly tail and fled. It was the last we ever saw of him. My comrades were nothing less than impressed when they saw what I had done, of course. I figured that a dragon’s hoard would be a worthy reward, but search as we might, we never did find anything in the valley or any of the nearby caves.

So that’s it. The end. Story’s over. No refunds.

* * *

Rainbow sat quietly for a moment while the other griffons, including Gruff, filed out the door.

“What the hay was that?” she asked when Gruff had left.

“Awesome!” Pinkie said.

“Heh.” Gilda blushed a bit when Rainbow turned to her. “I’m sure he was just taking a few liberties. You know, kinda like how your stories grow more elaborate every time you tell them. Gramps just has a… creative and admittedly somewhat fowl mind.”

Rainbow just shook her head. “Hey, it’s still better than listening to Twilight explain the difference between Decimal Point’s, Dew Point’s, and Dew Drop’s research for an hour while I’m packing. Apparently ponies tend to get them mixed up, because they’re even siblings.

“Now how about some of those griffon scones for lunch?”

Pinkie Pie’s tummy rumbled in anticipation as the three of them exited the library.

Author's Note

RoboFoME card:

Swallow the Meek
UU
Creature Creature — Griffin Soldierserkerserkerfolk Advisor
3, T: Put that player discard a cards, then shuffle you spent to faceful creature. If that she connection to its other player second, or R to your hand. You gains converted mana pool. Spend the battlefield. If the Dragons to targeted creature gets +2/+2, has "Sacrifice Mint Constrous.)

The permanent enters on "Morning of your control.

Reality are just gladly."
—Pinkie Pie, Bearer of Laughter. Should disappoint when it will comes of fate. This course that happy to town logical result is the Battle panache."
—Rainbow Dash, Bearer of Loyalty of my friendship, but I've seen the Dewdrop Decimal System, research."
0/4

Apple Family Feud [Comedy]

“Consarn it!” Applejack huffed. The northeast carrot field had been completely ruined, and she knew it wasn’t the bunnies that had done it this time.

Almost two weeks prior was when the trouble started. First, it was only a few apples that someone or something had eaten and left the cores of scattered about the orchard. Applejack hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but it didn’t take long to escalate. Some of their vegetables were next on the menu, and a whole case of cider went missing a couple of nights after. Neither Big Mac nor Apple Bloom had seen anyone or anything, and while something had excited Winona a couple of times, her presence didn’t seem to have any effect.

Worse yet, Granny Smith didn’t have a clue. At least, not at first. When tools started moving when nopony was watching, and the crops under attack weren’t eaten or stolen, but rather left on the ground uprooted, she had ordered a complete lockdown of all objects, tools, and crop fields.

“Garden gnomes,” she had said. “I ain’t ever seen one before, but I hear rumor from your aunt-in-law, Grape Vine, that they caused a lot o’ trouble for quite a few Apples down south almost ten years ago.”

Applejack asked Twilight if there was anything she could do, but after several hours of research, Twilight didn’t have any good news.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “but there’s very little information on garden gnomes, and what I have found isn’t reassuring. About half of all known instances of infestation usually led to total devastation, with the majority of the remainder still suffering significant losses. I would help out myself, but magic is specifically noted to have no practical effect on them. In both cases ending in minimal loss, Celestia had to send a rather large contingent of guards to help keep watch night and day. After that, the gnomes didn’t seem to bother them.”

“Then tell her to send ‘em again! I’ve saved Equestria more times than I can count with my hooves; the least Equestria can do is save my crops!”

Twilight chuckled at that. “I’ll let her know about your situation, but keep in mind that guards eat food too. There might be another option, though. From what I can tell, garden gnomes come from the south, past Equestria’s borders… and we do know a changeling. It’s possible that Thorax might have encountered them before. I can send a message through Cadence, if you want.”

Applejack had told her to do so, but two days had passed with no reply, and now she had found at least three bushels’ worth of carrots prematurely harvested. There wasn’t any use in letting them go to waste, though, so she diligently went to work gathering them up. The pigs would eat them at the very least.

About half an hour later, she had just finished storing the gatherings in the barn closest to their home for sorting the following morning.

“Applejack!” Apple Bloom called, evidently returned from school. “We got a letter from Thorax!”

They hurried back inside the house and told Granny. “Good,” she replied, “because the gazeebo’s been gnawed on like one o’ Winona’s chew toys.”

Apple Bloom unfurled the paper and read aloud:

“That’s terrible news, Applejack. I hope it isn’t too late to save your farm. It is true that your ‘garden gnomes’ usually live south of Equestria, and we changelings have had dealings with them for centuries. Their weakness is their shyness.

“Gnomes don’t like to be seen more than anything else, and they won’t cause you any trouble so long as they know that you are watching. As a hatchling, I would practice my shifting by appearing inanimate until one came near, then changing back to frighten them. It’s a rather common pastime of young changelings, in fact.

“There was a brief changeling-gnome war, but it was before my time. After a year of troublemaking, the changelings carved stone beasts to keep an eye on the gnomes and protect our territory. After that, the war pretty much ended.

“While gnomes usually avoid a number of creatures, not all of them will work as well in stone. I made a few sketches of the beasts they built, and Cadence assures me that the throne has already put resources towards crafting a number of them for your fields. The beasts are from old changeling legends, so I apologise if you find them unpleasant.”

Apple Bloom flipped the piece of paper over. “Hold, on, there’s a note: ‘Statues due to arrive tomorrow morning at castle. Come with cart.’ It’s from Twilight.”

Applejack sighed in relief. “I don’t care what the stone creatures look like if it means no more garden gnomes.”

* * *

The next morning, Applejack was presented with an assortment of about two dozen of the strangest stone statues she had ever seen. They were little peachy two-legged things that wore pants, jackets, and pointy red hats. All of them looked unreasonably cheerful, and most of them held some sort of gardening implement in grubby little paws.

“What the hay…?”

Author's Note

RoboFoME Card:

Apple Family Feud
5WWWBBBBBBBBB
Artifact Creature — Beast Gnome
Defender. It has "X: You draftsmare.

It seem. A player, that cards. Copy target creature you control can't blocked the beginning of War Changeling Masonry.

Once, and/or Unicorn, you control have Sylvan Gazebo becomes the number.

"We may not real rough to draw
4/3

Vacation Pony Paladin [Adventure]

Applejack tugged on the corkscrew, and the cork came out with a low pop. Twilight levitated several glasses, accepted the bottle of apple wine from Applejack, and started pouring for herself and her friends.

“It is certainly nice to take a break from everything once in a while,” she remarked, “especially after helping the mayor of Baltimare organize the March for Friendship and Forgiveness to help bring ponies in the city closer together.”

Rarity leaned on the edge of the balcony and sighed. “The beach is lovely this time of year – and the ocean is so calm and gentle this evening. It’s a wonderful time for a vacation!”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “I hope the boys didn’t have any trouble while we were away this week. It’s ‘boy’s night’ tonight, and I know first-hoof that Big Mac’s just dyin’ to get back to their story-game… thing.”

* * *

Discord pouted. “Do hurry up.”

Spike grumbled in response as he prepared to eat his last aquamarine. “Garbunkle doesn’t cast magic well on an empty stomach, and neither do I.”

“While I could make chapter seven play itself, that would be missing the point.”

“EeeYup.”

Spike finished chewing and swallowed. “So where were we?”

Discord cracked a grin and began narrating. As he started, the room around them started warping into the reality that he spoke of. “After defeating a trusted henchwizard of the Wicked Queen of the Western Seas – sworn enemy to her sister, the Faerie Queen of the Eastern Lands – our band of heros have learnt of the existence of an artifact buried in the Watery Grave of Artax which is said to have the ability to greatly weaken the Wicked Queen.”

By the time he had finished, Captain Wuzz of the Woodlands (a spindly though fit and agile archer with a magical hand, known throughout the lands for his charming looks), Garbunkle the Great (not quite the oldest and wisest among them, but perhaps regarded as ‘the best’ anyway, and sporting a mighty fine beard of grey), and Sir McBiggun of the North (a stoic unicorn master of the blade, clad in truly heavy but incredibly protective armor) all stood at the end of a road near the edge of a field. Ahead of them lay an expanse of trees: a forest that harbored darkness. Behind them stood the fallen minotaur city of Minos Mogis, wherein they had fought and defeated the henchwizard and his minions.

Far beyond the forest stood the mountains at the edge of the seas, where it was rumored that a powerful beast created by the Wicked Queen preyed upon all that flew too close. Somewhere between there and where they stood was the Grave of Artax and the treasure they sought.

“McBiggun,” Garbunkle spoke, “do not let your light waver in this dark, for darkness like this never comes without evil creatures waiting to strike.”

Wuzz scoffed. “I highly doubt that anything in there would be a match for us.”

Garbunkle let out a hearty laugh. “Do not be so sure, my dear Wuzz. The forest is plenty dark enough to host a number of evil creatures!” He planted his staff firmly in the ground. With a bright flash, a small orb of light appeared just above it. He lifted his staff and gave it a spin, before ending in a forward-indicating stance, his staff pointed towards the depths of the forest. “This light will take us to the most potent magic it can find, be it good... or evil.”

Wuzz rolled his eyes, but recanted the gesture after a moment of consideration. “Well I suppose it stands to reason that the most powerful evil magic would be used to protect the most powerful good magic. Next time we’re playing the side of evil.”

McBiggun illuminated his horn and held his sword at the ready, and led the way into the forest. The orb had no intention of picking the most easily traversable route, though, so in some cases obstacles had to be cleared before they could progress. To Garbunkle’s dismay, the underbrush was too wet to burn away, though a few swings of McBiggun’s sword did the job nicely.

This was one of the least exciting bits of their adventures: travel. Being properly prepared came at the cost of excitement sometimes… but not always. The forest was quiet, and with Garbunkle’s orb, McBiggun’s horn, and Wuzz’s lantern – which he had brought out and lit in the absence of anything else to do while the other two cleared the way – it was also well lit. At least, until the orb fizzled out and McBiggun’s horn self-extinguished a half-second later.

“Well it’s about time something interesting happened,” Wuzz remarked.

Spike glared back in the flickering lantern light. “You’re the one pulling the strings.”

“Pfft,” Discord replied. “I didn’t write the story or the rules, I just make it happen. Anyway, I take it your little friend wasn’t supposed to expire until we actually found what we were looking for.”

“No, it’s kinda—” Garbunkle cleared his throat. “Ahem. It’s a bit of a mystery.” He planted his staff in the same manner as he had before. “It seems that my magic doesn’t work here. What about you, McBiggun?”

McBiggun, sword in mouth, shook his head. “Mmmophe.”

“Break out the cloth and fire oil,” Garbunkle commanded. “The artifact should be nearby. We’ll have to search the area.” They processed some cloth into soaked strips, and shortly bound them to the end of two suitable branches. Contact with the flame from Wuzz’s lantern brought both of them to life. Garbunkle strapped his torch to the end of his staff with one of the remaining cloth strips, while McBiggun settled for strapping it to his horn.

“Don’t wander too far,” Wuzz said. “I’m great, but even I’m not a perfect shot in the pitch black.”

They spread out several meters in either direction and continued. The ground dropped just a bit, and quickly turned from solid and damp to mushy and flooded with water. They had only made it a couple of dozen paces when Garbunkle asked, “Did you hear that?”

McBiggun and Wuzz stopped. There was some kind of wet, deep, peeling sound.

“It sounds like something is breaking through the ground,” Wuzz remarked, and he switched his lantern over to his tail while he readied his bow.

“EeYup.”

Garbunkle nodded. “We must be close. Of course the Wicked Queen of the Western Seas wouldn’t want us to retrieve an artifact that would weaken her. This place must be cursed to keep us from using our magic!”

The peeling sound grew in volume, and the number of sources started to increase.

“Ready yourselves, and don’t let your light go out!” Garbunkle cried. “My water spells may yet work.”

Seconds later, small pockets of earth started exploding into showers of mud and decaying plant matter. In their place, hooves and heads started to poke out of the earth. The ponies pulled themselves out of the ground… but they weren’t simply ponies.

“Zombie ponies,” Wuzz spat as he let loose an arrow into an emerging form. “These things don’t stay down when they should be completely incapacitated. It tends to get annoying after the second or third arrow.”

Before long there were dozens of shapes pouring in from beyond the edges of their light, and from all directions. For every swipe McBiggun took, another group pressed forward, and usually about half of the ones he’d hit got back up. To Garbunkle’s relief, he had little difficulty casting his water-centric spells. He was still limited to a subset that excelled more in controlling and slowing the horde rather than actually defeating any of the zombie ponies. As such, he worked on keeping McBiggun’s immediate worries limited to a dozen zombie ponies as best he could, Whenever he had a moment beyond that, he tried to relocate any zombie ponies that threatened to flank either himself or Wuzz. Wuzz’s efforts provided the last bit of relief that they needed to keep the situation under control, taking down whichever zombie was most threatening to any member of their team at a given moment first.

Their lights bobbed all around, making for a rather disorienting scene, but they pressed on. The horde of zombie ponies wasn’t endless, but it still comprised of a few dozen of them... before taking into account their bad habit of getting back up. The band of heros did eventually gain an upper hoof when the number of zombie ponies started to dwindle as their bodies were forcefully degraded beyond the point of magical reanimation.

Finally it was down to the last one, and McBiggun spared no force with the swing of his sword, sending the zombie pony flying into the darkness where it landed with a wet plop. The three of them waited and listened carefully for any more signs of movement.

Seconds passed.

They all relaxed and sighed in relief when they were met with nothing but silence. Wuzz and Garbunkle had kept their distance, and thus had not been in a position to be wounded, while McBiggun’s armor had successfully prevented him from being injured. They were still exhausted, though. Before they could truly take a moment’s break, McBiggun’s horn-torch burnt out, plunging him in near-complete darkness.

“No!” Garbunkle cried. “McBiggun!”

Before he or Wuzz could react beyond that, they heard a very deep, subtle, and definitely unhappy growl from somewhere very nearby.

“AHHHHHH!” McBiggun screamed as he charged back into the light cast by his comrade’s flames.

“Why can’t my character be whatever that was,” Discord asked.

Spike rolled his eyes. “It wouldn’t exactly be fair if you started as a powerful magical beast.”

“So?” Discord said. “I’m the Spirit of Chaos in Equestria, and that’s not very fair. Wouldn’t it be fair for my unfairness to carry over into a fantasy adventure since that’s how it really is?”

“No.” Spike replied flatly. “Besides, that’s not the point of a fantasy game. You should be something different, and in your case, that means playing by the rules. Besides, the Legendary Dark Beast of ‘AHHH’ is kind of a joke nowadays. It’s been used as a darkness-dwelling death-penalty for generations in all sorts of games.”

Discord sighed and pouted. “Fine.”

“Now,” Garbunkle said, “We still have an artifact to find. The curse is still blocking my more useful magic, but at least I can still keep the water out of our boots.”

“How do you propose we find the artifact, oh great Garbunkle?” Wuzz responded.

“Well… ” Garbunkle gave Wuzz’s question some consideration. “I don’t think Artax was buried here after he died, so, naturally, the most dangerous spot in the vicinity is the most likely to hold the artifact.”

Wuzz raised an eyebrow. “And you don’t see a problem with this?”

Garbunkle let on a wily smile. “Artax may have been a powerful unicorn, but he was no Great Wizard. If this was a trap set for Artax by the Wicked Queen, the bog in the surrounding area probably has spots deep enough to drown somepony without magic. Before you complain, I’ve still got a trick or two up my sleeve...”

Garbunkle’s wily smile grew into a manic grin. Taking the bottle of fire oil, he poured a reasonable quantity of it at his feet and watched it mingle with a small puddle of water. Next, he twirled his staff, causing his torch to make a cool whooshing noise, and planted it firmly in the ground. The resultant magical shockwave specifically drove all the water in the soil away for a good few-dozen meters in every direction.

“Oh, great,” Wuzz said. “Now we we’ve wasted half a bottle of fire oil.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Garbunkle remarked. Barely containing his smugness, he took the torch end of his staff and carefully touched it to the ground where he had poured the fire oil. Strands of fire shot out to his left and right on the ground, and the edges of the now-dry circle burst into flames as they met, casting light over a much larger area than their torch and lantern could.

“EeeYup.”

Not a dozen meters before them, the dry ground angled down rather sharply. When they neared the edge of the hole, they could easily see the glint of a small golden ring sitting atop what was probably a pile of bones. Garbunkle made his way down into the hole, and as he drew near, he could feel that the ring had significant magical properties – it was an ability he invested in early on. He picked it up, and verified that it was indeed a magic artifact. A horn-augment, to be precise, to be worn on a unicorn’s horn.

Wuzz’s disappointed voice came from the edge of the hole. “How come McBiggun gets all the goodies? How is that fair?”

Author's Note

RoboFoME card:

Vacation Pony Paladin
1R
Creature Creature — Pony Faerie
Players can't a magic. If your graveyard to make them like the ponies, Pegasi are stuck in additional creature attacking prey, its controller gain them.

Whenever a spend, it had flash.

Disappoint, and trample until end of turn. The injury. If your mana cost, stronomics seems like it is clear to a player may activate this card, look at target nonblue spells you election to wander, if enchant creature, both start to a graveyard that card exiled this spell, choose a life.

You may drawn the chosen player

Curse of Sibling Queen gets +2/+2 and any number of turn

"We couldn’t need and I can never underestimate a forgiving that discover thing mind of corkscrew. She inspire comes out of a waves. Not very and
2/2

~ ~ ~

(There should be more Garbunkle the Greyt stories.)

Howling Me"Pinkie's Lassoeratorseshoes!"A True, Trap [Random]

Pinkie Pie bounced happily along the road.

Boing. Boing. Boing. Stop.

Yep. From her front door, it was three boings to her mailbox. Sugarcube Corner’s mailbox, really, but given her residency, it was also hers on top of that. She hardly expected something to arrive every day (though that would be awesome), but today specifically, a delivery was due. She had ordered a set of appropriately themed horseshoes for the cowgirl competition that she and Applejack were entering in Appaloosa next week.

She opened the mailbox, only to find it completely empty. That was disappointing. She’d just have to go to the post office and ask them if they knew why it hadn’t arrived when it was supposed to.

Unless… nah.

She boinged her way to the post office and tried not to think about what could have gone wrong. When she got there, Paper Trail – one of the resident mail clerks and just the pony that Pinkie wanted to see – was at the desk. Sleepy looking, but at the desk nonetheless.

“Hey, Paper Trail? I was supposed to get a delivery today from Hoofington, but my mailbox was empty.”

The grey mare tried to stifle a yawn. “The day’s deliveries already went out this morning. It’s either one of the last few things to be dropped off, or the package hasn’t arrived in Ponyville.”

Pinkie tried her best not to frown. The catalogue said ‘Guaranteed delivery by Tuesday the 23rd.’ She pulled out her pocket-calendar. It is Tuesday the 23rd. “And you don’t know which?”

Paper Trail lifted her head off the counter a bit. “No.”

That wasn’t very helpful. Usually Paper Trail knew these sorts of things. She usually didn’t take naps during her shift, either. Pinkie made a mental note to cheer her up later (a good mystery novel usually did the trick). First, she had to get home and check her mail again. There was another possibility that Paper Trail hadn’t considered.

* * *

Pinkie Pie had carefully paced herself on her way back to Sugarcube Corner. She couldn’t let on that she was suspicious of anything, or they’d know she was on to them… if there was a them. If her mailbox had the horseshoes in it, then all was fine and Ditzy had just delivered them at the end of her round. If her mailbox remained empty, clearly the Appleoosans were trying to sabotage her game by stealing her shoes, because the mail couldn’t be late. It was never late. She sent letters to other ponies, and she got responses when they had time to reply. The mail system worked a lot like Spike’s ability to send scrolls to Celestia, except it included a lot more ponies. Sometimes Celestia took time to send a letter back, which just proved to Pinke that the reason mail took so much time was because ponies got busy sometimes. In short: mail was like magic, only more consistent.

She found her mailbox to be still empty. It was almost one o'clock, and the day’s mail was always delivered by noon.

The catalogue promised that she would have her wares by Tuesday, so they must have had time, which meant that they sent it, which meant that it was in her mailbox, and since it wasn’t, somepony must have stolen before she had checked, and the only ponies who would want to steal her special horseshoes (they’d look really good while she operated a lasso) would either be Appleoosans or some other ponies that wanted to win the cowgirl competition.

And now she had to catch them to prove it. And to get her shoes back. Since the Presumably-Appleoosans must be checking her mailbox to have gotten to it first, all she would have to do is set up a trap.

* * *

Pinkie Pie had nearly forgotten about her worries the next day. She hadn’t forgotten about what she’d done, but she’d stopped worrying. As soon as the mail came, she’d be waiting, ready for—

“Pinkie Pie!”

Uh oh. That wasn’t the howling of an Appleoosan successfully thwarted. It was a sound that she was far more familiar with (though her imagination probably counted for something – she liked to think she would have been familiar with the sound of thwarting scheming Appleoosans). She tentatively made her way outside and poked her head over the edge of the hole. A meter or so down, Ditzy glared back up at her.

“I told you to stop leaving me ‘surprises’ in the mailbox. Apparently I was too specific.”

“Um. Sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to wind up in here.”

Ditzy brought a hoof to her forehead before she had realized that it was muddy. “And just who were you expecting to come to your mailbox, if not the town mailpony?”

“The ponies who stole my mail yesterday!”

Ditzy’s glare remained. “You didn’t get mail yesterday. How could anypony have stolen it?”

“But I was supposed to,” Pinkie replied. “The catalogue I ordered my shoes from said they would be delivered yesterday!”

Ditzy sighed. “Did you check at the office?”

“Yes, but Paper Trail couldn’t tell me what happened to it.”

“Then it hasn’t even made it to Ponyville, or she would have known about it.”

Pinkie frowned – not a frown of unhappiness, but one of confusion. “Why not?”

“Because she doesn’t have access to record updates that haven’t arrived yet either,” Ditzy said.

“Nono. Why isn’t it in Ponyville yet?”

“Because mail takes time to get places? There was probably—”

Pinkie interrupted with one of her wind-tunnel-esque gasps of realization and disbelief.

After it stopped, Ditzy quickly added, “There was probably a delay.”

“You mean—”

Ditzy yanked on her hair. “I DON’T KNOW WHAT I MEAN, PINKIE! Just help me out of this hole already!”

“Oh, right.”

“I’ll be happy to deliver your package in person when it arrives. That way you don’t have to worry about anypony stealing it. Celestia knows I won’t be using the mailbox for a while.”

Author's Note

RoboFoME Card:

Howling Me"Pinkie's Lassoeratorseshoes!"A True, Trap
2
Sorcery
Tap target creature. You may spell, country on you control, you contain-rooted Cohort of up to X cards once each player, copy targets +2/+1 and put it.

"Is this you like a hole."
—Ditzy Doo, spell of bloodcurdler!"
—Pinkie Pie, Bearer of Laughter my ink.

~ ~ ~

hawthornbunny has also written a RoboFoME-card-prompted story, which can be found here!

Mega-Pony Trophytershy's Owl [OC, Slice of Life]

Canterlot was much more peaceful than it had right to be during the evenings of winter. Relatively few ponies braved the freezing temperatures at any given time, and those that did weren’t in a hurry. The castle nobles even kept their noses in their own business. In the houses of the outer sections of the city, the ponies that weren’t playing in the snow occupied themselves with various holiday-themed activities. One such activity happened to be helping to fill in a large costume order for the upcoming Hearth’s Warming Eve pageant.

Marion pouted. “How many hats?”

“The whole order is about sixty; my portion is only twelve by the end of the week,” her mother replied.

Marion dramatically collapsed forwards, onto her mother’s work. “But that’s going to take forever.”

“Marion, it won’t go any faster if you tug on my fabric. This is for one of the Elements, you know. My friend, Sassy Saddles, works for Rarity, and she needed more hooves to meet the deadline.”

“Hats are boring. Daaaaad.” Marion made her way towards the sofa that her father had sprawled out on while he read a book. “What can I do?”

Her father cracked a smile and sat up, inserting a bookmark as he did so. “Well, let’s keep away from your mother’s work. I already had stiches as a kid, so I can tell you it’s not fun.”

Marion simply glared at her father. “That’s not very funny.”

“Heh. Tough crowd. How about I tell you a story?”

“About what?”

Her father shook his head and said, “Well you’ve got to sit down and listen to find out.”

Marion dutifully climbed onto the cushion next to her father.

“Every year, when Hearth's Warming Eve draws near, ponies all around tell stories of holiday cheer, or of saints from Equestria’s past who work together to bring good fortune and gifts to all the foals that behaved through the year, but there’s plenty more than that to the holiday. You’ve heard of Windigos, right?”

“Mhm.”

“They might have been part of how Hearth’s Warming Eve started, but in the many years that have passed since the first, the holiday has grown… in both good and bad ways.”

Marion gave a quizzical look in response to her father’s grin.

“Over a thousand years ago – we call that a millennium, by the way – lived the most legendary saint of them all: Saint Nickel Hooves. He grew up in one of the first mining villages, when Equestria was still establishing itself. We call him Saint Nick, for short.”

Marion rolled her eyes dramatically. “I know. The teacher talked about him in school.”

“Well it’s a good thing that this story isn’t just about him, then. I’m just making sure you have all the information to understand the story, is all.”

“Fine.”

“Well… Saint Nick grew to be a very large pony in more than one way. They say his personality alone would fill an entire city with cheer. But not all were happy. One day, a pegasus, one of the last members of the obsolete Pegasopolian army grew upset with Saint Nick, and demanded that he leave town! Saint Nick, who wouldn’t force his cheer on anypony, did without complaint. For that, the villagers grew upset with the soldier, and he with them, until one day he left.

“They say that the pegasus never behaved as a kid, and he didn’t like when the other kids got gifts for being nice when he did not.”

“What was his name?” Marion asked.

“We don’t know what it was at first… but you’ll see. Anyway, he skulked—”

“What’s that mean?” Marion asked.

Har father considered this for a second. “He hid, and pouted. A lot like you do when we tell you to go to your room.”

“Oh.”

“So he pouted for years, growing even grumpier every time Hearth’s Warming Eve came. Saint Nick said that he forgave him, but he never forgave Saint Nick. He let his jealousy grow – perhaps he even wanted it to grow – until he met the Great and Wise White Owl. That’s the same one that helped Saint Nick in the stories they tell you at school, and the one that they put on the awards they give out for good behavior. Anyway, the Owl told him that he should accept how others celebrated the holiday, even if he did not want to participate. He was warned that such jealousy and anger had the power to make monsters out of us if we don’t stop it first, but he refused to listen. They say that he stopped being completely pony that day. Nopony saw him for years after that. Sometimes, travellers said that they heard something unnatural off in the woods.

“When he finally emerged on Hearth’s Warming Eve, he had the teeth of a crocodile, the tongue of a snake, and the horns of a goat! His body had warped into something else, and nopony could recognize him. He vowed before the ponies of the town that he would make Hearth’s Warming Eve a day of punishment and fear, rather than a day of reward and rejoice. That night, he snuck around, stealing toys, or snapping them apart in his jaws and leaving the remains to be mourned.

“Now Saint Nick – who was a much older pony now – heard of this tantrum, he came to the town to talk to this new monster. They say Saint Nick took one look upon him, and saw not a monster, but a pegasus colt who had suffered the consequences of misbehaving all his life. He let out a hearty laugh as he was known to do, and offered a gift like no other. Saint Nick gave him a second chance, in the form of a choice: he could allow his jealousy to control him and be remembered as the monster he was, or he could take up an important role in Hearth’s Warming Eve, and to show the naughty foals the consequences of their ways before they, too, could end up like him.

“Instead of answering, he slunk—”

“What’s that mean?” Marion asked.

“It‘s a lot like the dramatic walk you do when we send you to your room.”

“Oh.”

“So he slunk off without a word, but Saint Nick knew that he had made the right choice. Over the years to come, he and Saint Nick grew quite close, despite their opposite purposes, working to make Hearth’s Warming Eve a very special holiday. The townsponies eventually nicknamed him for the sounds that they said he made. He became known throughout all of Equestria as Crumpus.

“Now remember, Marion, if you misbehave enough, Crumpus might pay you a little visit at night, and if you let your jealousy spoil the holiday, you might even become Crumpus.”

Marion shook her head vigorously. “That’s not true.”

“Oh? What about Nightmare Moon? Was she not the outcome of somepony letting their jealousy guide them for years?”

Marion blinked, and her eyes stopped focusing on anything in particular.

“Can I sleep with you and mom?”

Her father laughed in much the same way Saint Nick supposedly did. “Only if it’s alright with mom.”

“Mom?” Marion tried her best not to let her expression betray her desperation.

Her mother set down the hat that she was working on – a strange looking hat with a buckle on it – and said, “I can’t really say ‘no’ after dad told you that story, can I?”

Marion shook her head.

“Oh, alright.”

Author's Note

RoboFoME Card:

Mega-Pony Trophytershy's Owl
1
Enchantment Creature — Pegasus Soldierpental Crocodilemental
Enchant creature becomes than that player control.

For years of legendary creater taps and is put a verse counter on each converted mana pool equal to the top of you controller puts all of turn.)

When Magical, dear?

"How many hats."
—Marion Mare, magic surprisingle push your stitching for long with you should buckle as act.
3/3

(Daring Do and the) Flawless Horseshoe [Adventure]

Not every adventure made for a great story. Daring Do’s job had her hunting down a lot of artifacts, and not all of them were exciting. Well, she found each and every one of them exciting, at least in part, or she wouldn’t have devoted her life to hunting them down. It was the other ponies – like the ones who would read the books that funded her dangerous escapades – that mattered, at least when considering which adventures to make books out of.

Her current mission had already started off on the wrong hoof. Sure, she was no stranger to embellishment, but some artifacts were harder to work with than others. There was even the occasional time where the artifact in question turned out to be nothing more than generations of storytelling and layers of traps, but she didn’t exactly advertise those moments, even if she still enjoyed the less adventurous archaeological insights that they offered on foreign cultures. At this moment, she was flying north to a little Equestrian town by the name of Podunk, in search of a special horseshoe.

Unsurprisingly, Podunk didn’t get a lot of travellers, so she had no reason to expect more than, say, the one pony who told her about it to have travelled to the southernmost reaches of the pony population where Ahuizotl enacted most of his evil plans. Still, the account of a single pony was always a dubious way to obtain information about precious artifacts, even if he hadn’t rank of anything fermented at that time.

“A flawless horseshoe,” he had told her, “enchanted, even! It brings the bearer great luck.” He went on to claim that he had seen its wonder, felt its magic, and talked to its protector – a large pony who kept to himself, but had a bad temper. Given how much her informant talked (and talked, and talked), she wouldn’t have been surprised if he had just gotten on the pony’s nerves.

As far as a potential book opportunity went, this one was pretty much dead-on-arrival. There were no ancient monsters – yet, at least – she had a massive lead over Ahuizotl (which tended to make it less ‘exciting’), and she hadn’t been able to think of a better title than Daring Do and the Flawless Horseshoe. Still, if she filed it away with the rest of her smaller escapades, she might be able to get away with publishing a compilation for the more devout fans of the Daring Do series. So far as she could tell, there wasn’t anything they wouldn’t be willing to buy, think... or do. She did her best to avoid contact with them.

She wasn’t always successful.

Daring shook off the thought before it could lead anywhere else. Podunk was only a few minutes’ flight away at that point, and she didn’t want to veer off course and miss it.

* * *

Ponies. They were everything she didn’t like about her job, and the only reason she had one. The best cultures were dead, not completely alive and full of ponies willing to drag you inside where they can tell you stories about their children. Shortly after landing, it had only taken seconds and the brief mention that she was looking for a ‘large pony’ for some nearby old mare to do just that.

“... to keep the poor dear from trampling my flowers on accident. Nowadays he brings back potted flowers of all sorts for my garden whenever he visits. I’m so proud that he’s grown into such a sweetheart. Do you want a tart, dear?”

Daring blinked and refocused her thoughts when her subconscious suggested that her host might be at the end of another story. A tray of warm cheese tarts now sat on the kitchen table. Uncomfortable with the implication of how long she had already spent getting nothing done, Daring picked one up and considered it.

“So, Mrs. Shoes, is he still in town? He might have something important that I need to talk to him about.” She nibbled her tart.

Mrs. Goody Shoes smiled her proudest yet and picked up a tart of her own. “He spends so much time at the rodeos, doing his job, and he always comes back to visit when he has the time. He got here only a few days ago, and he never spends less than a week.”

Daring’s tart was already gone, to her surprise, and embarrassment.

Mrs. Shoes picked up on her tart-troubles before she had a chance to ask a follow-up question. “Oh, don’t worry, dear. Have another one!”

Another tart in-hoof, Daring proceeded with her question. “I don’t suppose you could tell me where I could find him?”

“He parks his cart down the south path a little ways. The poor dear’s a shy one.”

Daring nodded and got off her chair. Her rear legs started to protest, given that they had fallen asleep. “Uh—”

“No need, dear.” Mrs. Shoes slid another tart into a small paper bag and offered it to Daring. “Have one for the road.”

“—thanks. I, uh... yeah. Thanks.” Daring nodded, and started for the door.

“He’s shy, but he’s such a sweetheart – you’ll see. All he needs is a lovely mare like you in his life to really blossom.”

Daring swallowed – or gagged (she wasn’t quite sure) – after turning to make sure her reaction wouldn’t show to Mrs. Shoes.

“Heh...”

Dead cultures didn’t have tarts that simply vanished under one’s nose because they tasted surprisingly good, but they didn’t try to pair her up with a special somepony, either, and that made the tradeoff totally worth it.

Besides, her fans already did that plenty.

* * *

“I suppose it’s just my luck that Mother’d be the first pony you run into.”

Her informant hadn’t lied about one thing, at least: Trouble Shoes was a large pony. The back of Daring’s mind suggested that his mother’s baking might have encouraged his size. His cart seemed spacious enough for a normal pony. With his size… the layers of patchwork done on the walls and floor made a little more sense.

“Yeah… and I’d rather not think too hard on the experience,” Daring said. “In any case, I’m looking for a certain… horseshoe, and somepony mentioned that you had it.”

Trouble Shoes sighed, deep and long, then he nodded. “Yep. I do. Some old fellow gave it to me after a show. Said it was his lucky horseshoe. Figures he must’ve been looking for a good bloke to rid him of it. It draws in the strangest ponies.”

Daring shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t really like the implicit comparison between her and her informant, as well as who knows whom else might have approached him about it already while he travelled Equestria. Unfortunately, as she had suspected at the start of her trip, the horseshoe likely bore no archeological value whatsoever. Regardless, there was at least one blabbering fool that claimed it to have potent magical properties, and that was still enough to warrant trying to secure it before Ahuizotl could. “Do you know the pony who gave it to you?” she asked.

Trouble Shoes shrugged. “Not a clue.”

“I don’t suppose I could… see it?”

“You can have it if you want.” Trouble Shoes looked right at her. “That’s why you’re here. Who wouldn’t want a lucky horseshoe if the luck was magically guaranteed?”

She tried not to grimace too much. “Well, my plans involve either a museum or secure vault, specifically for that reason. I’m a treasure hunter for archeology, not personal gain.”

“Well wouldn’t ya know...” he said.

After several seconds, Daring raised an eyebrow. “Uh, not really, no.”

“I don’t doubt somepony told you all about how lucky the horseshoe was,” he said. “Truth be told it is a lucky horseshoe, but it ain’t all good luck.”

“Weird. Wait. You mean…?”

Trouble Shoes nodded. “Yeah, a lot of it is bad luck, and I know all about bad luck.”

Daring recalled a few snippets of Mrs. Shoes’ stories. “I heard—”

“It’s not all bad luck,” he continued. “Some of it is good luck. Just not very much. That’s probably why you’re here: usually I get stuck with luck like this – it’s what my cutie mark’s for, and it does wonders for makin’ a fool of myself as a rodeo clown – but for once I get some good luck my way and somepony comes to take a problem off my hooves.”

“So you want me to take it?” Daring asked.

“Well… It’s also kinda bad luck. If you take it and lock it away, it’ll be the last good luck I see.”

Daring took a moment to be sure that she understood what he meant. In short, it seemed his good luck was also bad luck because the very act that his good luck had caused in turn would take away his good luck, if she took the lucky shoe. “Huh.”

Trouble Shoes got up, shaking his cart-home, and walked to the far wall (all two of his steps away). From a set of average-looking horseshoes hanging on a couple of pegs, he picked one that looked perhaps slightly newer.

“Lost a shoe a few months back, and I didn’t have time to get another custom made for weeks, so I just wore three and shifted my weight when I needed ‘em. I s’pose some more good luck would have it that it fits me.”

He set the horseshoe on the table. So far as Daring could tell, it didn’t have any overt flaws, but there wasn’t a single remarkable thing about it.

“Do you mind?” she asked, gesturing towards it.

Trouble Shoes shrugged. “No. If you want it, keep it, but you might want to stay in town for a day, in case you change your mind.”

Daring picked it up. It felt like an exactly normal horseshoe. Maybe magical, but it was hard to tell. At least, until her chair spontaneously and violently disassembled beneath her, sending her sprawling backwards and into the wall, in turn knocking down various containers that he had perched or hung on its features. The pot that covered her vision wasn’t so bad, the small pouch that she heard smack on the floor right beside her was. It was a spice pouch, filled with pepper. Pre-ground black pepper. It hardly took a second for her to have the first of many sneezes coming.

“AHHH-Chooo!”

It wouldn’t have been so bad if the inside of pot hadn’t reflected both sound and spray right back at her.

“Get it off— Ahh…. AHH… Chooo!”

Daring tossed the horseshoe away – anywhere else was fine by her – and pried the pot off her head. She couldn’t see and her nose burned. Rubbing her eyes only fixed one of those problems.

This was definitely never going in any book. Ever.

Getting back to her hooves, she asked, “How can you stand that thing?” Her eyes went wide and she ducked just in time to dodge the concussive blast of one of his own sneezes.

“I suppose you just learn to live with it,” he said, rubbing his nose. “Truth be told, I can hardly tell a difference, what with my special talent and cutie mark and all bein’ about having comically bad luck.”

Daring sighed. It probably wouldn’t be a terrible plan to let Ahuizotl have the darned thing, aside from that if he had the wrong bout of good luck from it even once, he stood to gain a little too much for her comfort. Still, she had it for only a second or two before things went... comically wrong. She almost certainly wouldn’t survive a four-hour flight with that kind of luck.

First, she had to be sure about one thing. “That thing actually gives good luck?”

“Yeah.” he said. “I found a bit on the ground at my last rodeo, and I never find stuff after it goes missing.”

Daring nodded. “Tell you what: I’ll find a spare good-looking horseshoe, let on that I’ve found and retrieved the artifact, leak my suspicions that my informant – likely the only pony south of Equestria that knows anything about your special horseshoe – was exaggerating, and see if Ahuizotl cares enough to steal it from me. If he does – and I’ll let him – then he’ll find out it’s worthless, and he’ll rub it in for a little while before we both move on to much more important artifacts. You get to keep what little good comes of it, and I don’t have to worry about Ahuizotl getting anything good from it, even if I’d be willing to pay good money for front-row-seats to a show of him wearing that thing. Sound good?”

“I guess. What if the Owie-zee-pony doesn’t believe you?”

“Just tell him everything you told me, but leave out the ‘good luck’ part. If he takes it, I don’t think he’ll want to keep it any longer than I did,” Daring replied. “Oh, and if that does happen, please take notes. Pictures if you can, too.”

Author's Note

RoboFoME card:

Flawless Horseshoe
1R
Instant
Detain trample.

Whenever equal to the number of your hand a player’s upkeep cast the battlefield, copy of time."

Equip 3

It's abilities of his or her creatures that creatures loses 2."

Ench.")

"Weird. I hope it reality outweigh flanned."
—Daring.

Mass Squade Balloon [Slice of Life, Thriller?]

The familiar sound of a cannon blast splashed cold water on the Pi squad plans to take Sugarcube Corner – literally.

“Take cover!”
“Get down!”
“Hurry!”

After the shot landed, Scootaloo peeked out from her cover. Across the square around Sugarcube corner, she saw Diamond Tiara do the same.

“Did everypony make it?”, Tiara called across to them.

Next to Scootaloo, Apple Bloom groaned. “Snips and Snails are out. Looks like they tripped over each other.” Apple Bloom poked her head over the shrub row that they his behind and directed Tiara’s attention to their casualties.

Sweetie Belle started counting heads from behind her cover. So far as she could see, everypony else that they were responsible for was accounted for.

“Snips, Snails,” Tiara called. “Go to the graveyard and dry off. You know the rules.”

“Speaking of rules,” Sweetie Belle quietly remarked to the other two Crusaders while Snips and Snails grumbled about who-tripped-who on their way out, “unicorns and pegasi have restrictions, but why does Pinkie get to use her party cannon?”

“Yeah, that doesn’t seem fair,” Scootaloo agreed.

Apple Bloom shrugged. “I dunno, but now that you mention it, I’m pretty sure that there wasn’t anything sayin’ she couldn’t.”

Scootaloo frowned. “We need to regroup to come up with a better plan.”

Pinkie Pie’s cheerful voice came bellowing about as loudly as her cannon. “Fire in the hole!” Another cannon blast promptly sounded, sending any curious peekers cowering behind their cover once again. Several of the water balloons in the shot landed uncomfortably close to the Crusaders’ hiding spot.

“Silver Spoon!” Sweetie Belle whispered across the street between herself and where Silver Spoon had taken cover, “Can you signal to Tiara that we need to retreat?”

Silver Spoon nodded and disappeared from the Crusaders’ view to establish line-of-sight with Tiara.

A moment later, Silver Spoon called, “Fall back, guys! Rendezvous two streets down at the fountain!”

The Cutie Mark Crusaders quickly pulled out of the danger zone, followed by about half of their classmates. The other half would be following Tiara, the Pi squad acting captain. In only a couple of minutes, they had reached the fountain, and were met seconds later by Tiara’s half of the squad.

“Dinky, Zipporwhill,” Tiara said as soon as everypony had made it into the surrounding opening, “I want you two to stick together and take up a position here with about a dozen balloons. If anypony comes after us, give them all you’ve got and get to our next position as quickly as you can.”

Both of them nodded and started to scoop up balloons.

“Everypony else, head for the café. Lieutenants!” Tiara turned towards the Crusaders and nodded for them to walk with her as they started for the café. “Did any of you get a good look of what we’re up against?”

Apple Bloom chipped in, “A few rows of sandbags, a line of trenches, and I didn’t exactly see it, but apparently some artillery. They’re also flyin’ a bunch of banners with just the letter ‘e’ on them.”

“But how did they set all that up?” Scootaloo asked. “The battle started an hour ago!”

Sweetie Belle shrugged. “We know Pinkie Pie’s there, and that’s already enough of an explanation. She isn’t alone, though, and we should probably assume that they have traps set up.”

“Okay,” Tiara said, “So much for bravado. Our all-out attack plan is suicide now, especially since she’s apparently allowed to use her cannon. What do we have to work with?”

None of the Crusaders offered any response as they entered the café grounds and sat at a table amidst the other members of their squad.

“After a moment more, Scootaloo said, “Well, I have my scooter, but I don’t know how moving really fast is going to help exactly, and it’s in the other side of town.”

Sweetie Belle added, “We’d have to launch our water balloons with a lot of force to make it high enough and far enough to come down on anypony hidden behind the sandbags and in the trenches from even a slightly safe distance. Unfortunately, they might pop just by our launching them, not that Pinkie is having any trouble...”

The four of them were interrupted as Featherweight – the designated courier to the Pi squad – buzzed into the area. “Captain Tiara!”

“What’s the message?” Tiara asked.

“Starlight’s team is losing traction against Twilight’s forces outside the town hall and the market is in a deadlock. Some of Twilight’s forces have pulled back, and appeared to be headed in the direction of Sugarcube Corner. Starlight is worried that they’re going to push from there and flank them, which would be... well, bad.”

“So we’ve got to take Sugarcube Corner,” Tiara said, “if only to have a well-defended position to hold them off at.”

“Wait,” Apple Bloom interjected, “I’ve got a plan, but we’re gonna need Scootaloo’s Scooter A.S.A.P.”

“Scootaloo?” Tiara asked. “Think you can make it to your home and back without too much trouble?”

Scootaloo considered it. “Well, if Bulk is keeping them busy at the market, I think the bridges will be clear. Be back in… fifteen minutes?”

“Is that enough time?” Tiara asked Apple Bloom.

Apple Bloom shrugged. “I dunno. That depends on how fast Twilight’s forces are gatherin’. More specifically when they’re gonna move out.”

Tiara nodded to Scootaloo. “Take Sunny and Peachy, just in case. They can keep up with you.”

“So what’s the plan?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“We’re gonna use her scooter to get a bunch o’ balloons movin’ up a ramp. Since I ain’t got an idea worth a moldy apple how Pinkie’s shootin’ balloons from her cannon without them poppin’, I figure our best bet’s to speed ‘em up a bit slower. We still gotta work out a proper release once they’re in the air, but since we haven’t used any of our balloons, we’ve got enough to do a lot of soaking if Scootaloo can build up speed with all that weight.”

Sweetie Belle grinned. “I think we can make this work.”

* * *

By the time Scootaloo had returned with her scooter, most of the Pi squad’s ammunition had been loaded into a wide cardboard box that they had scrounged from the vicinity. Several cords were tied to it so, when they were all pulled at once, their force would be distributed somewhat evenly, and low enough down that flipping the box over wasn’t a concern.

Tiara had positioned several ponies to attack and distract the defenders – especially Pinkie and her cannon – for the final stretch of Scootaloo’s charge. She had insisted that the several boards and single wagon that comprised their ramp be placed only when Scootaloo had gotten close, lest anypony on the other side figure out what they were planning soon enough to take cover from an aerial bombardment. Apple Bloom had approximated the optimal angle for the ramp to maximize distance without overstressing the balloons.

“They won’t exactly fly from here to Las Pegasus,” she had said, “but we should get about a hundred meters out of it if Scoots gets goin’ fast enough.”

While Tiara would have liked to spend more time preparing, Dinky and Zipporwhill had decided to return and report that there were definitely more of Twilight’s forces at Sugarcube Corner. “Okay everypony!” she called. “Final positions! Have that ramp ready! The rest of us will give Twilight’s forces something to think about. Scootaloo, whenever you’re ready... but don’t keep us waiting for long.”

Scootaloo nodded, and fastened her helmet. Their chosen street/runway curved smoothly to the left before opening towards Sugarcube Corner, and while Scootaloo was worried about the problems the inertia of a hundred or so balloons full of water might cause her as she made the turn, it would help keep her hidden until the end.

“When you pass the ramp, don’t worry about the ropes,” Sweetie Belle told Scootaloo before joining Tiara and the others. “They’re only tied to the box, and when they pull tight, the balloons will separate from the box and have more room to spread in the air.”

“Got it.” Scootaloo gave the ropes tied to her scooter a tug to see if they’d hold. She then turned to Apple Bloom, who stood ready with the strongest members of the squad to help pull or push the load to start her with as much of a boost as possible. “Let’s do this.”

Another cannon blast sounded from up ahead.

“Okay, team,” Apple Bloom called, “go!”

Scootaloo buzzed her wings furiously, and to her surprise, even with the ropes taught, she was moving a reasonable speed within a couple of seconds. After another dozen seconds, Apple Bloom and her team were having trouble keeping up, and Scootaloo could feel a lot more strain on her ropes.

“Good Luck!” Apple Bloom cried. Scootaloo grunted as she started pulling the full weight herself. A cardboard box was no plow, but it left much to be desired for sliding across a dirt road. Coming up on the curve, she turned herself much tighter than she planned to end up moving. She tried not to let the euphoria get to her too much as she skidded right on course. As she pulled out of the curve, she saw the ramp team ahead, wagon in position and working to set the boards. There were only a hoof-ful of seconds before they’d find out whether the defenders or the wagon would be getting soaked.

The ramp team cleared well before Scootaloo got there, which she could only hope meant that they had smoothed the transition from ground to board to a satisfactory degree. As she get closer, she could see the commotion around Sugarcube Corner as water balloons were tossed in all directions. Scootaloo’s eyes went wide when she realized what she was in for: the ground was soaked.

She whizzed by the ramp and felt the tension of the ropes change direction. The payload was in the air, and she hadn’t heard the splashing of a hundred breaking balloons.

“Fire in the hole!” Scootaloo cried. She swerved, and the roped jerked lightly as the box pulled away from the mass of airborne balloons. For a split second, it was almost beautiful; a hundred balloons of every color in the rainbow, spread out just enough to see the sky through the mass, flying smoothly through the air. After that split second, Scootaloo lost her footing on her scooter as a result of the jerk, and a split second later, she found herself sliding across a dozen meters of mud.

She skidded to a stop. She was positively covered in mud, which normally would have irritated her, but when she heard the Pi squad cheering behind her, she just grinned like a fool.

Author's Note

RoboFoME card:

Mass Squade Balloon
1B
Sorcery
Irration. It fights, disapplied gets +2/+2 until end of the top X cards in your graveyard from that creature

At they can't be activate abilities can seems, they didn’t work to Las Pegasus, all ability only if Sweetie Belle.

Trapsmith greater enchanted creatures you control this way its owner's right override of Cannon Blast deals combat damage to the Crusaders’ hand type. Draw a card into his or blockers.

"…and hate the bravado, and under 'E'!"
—Pinkie Pie

Debt (Or: Trial by Fire) [Dark] [Conteſt Entry]

Celestia slammed the door shut behind her. For the moment, at least, she was alone.

“Heathens!” she snarled. The empty library returned only silence, and she sank against the door.

“Defilers.” She made no effort to wipe away her tears. Whether they were from her anger or sorrow, she was not certain. That day, the eve of the second year of her sister’s banishment, had been a mess. It had been bloody.

Even now, she could see wisps of smoke through the windows, dissolving into the ashen haze left behind by those that would do her wrong in the name of her sister. The smell of smoke clung to her hair just as surely as the screams of her subjects haunted her mind. The screams that started as soon as she had raised the sun that morning, when the cultists had started lighting fires. She had been taken by surprise, and the town of Everfree paid dearly for it.

“I have been a fool,” she whispered.

Now shaking, she picked herself up off the floor and walked across the library, to the balconies. There was no sense in denying what she had allowed.

She took in the sight down below of smoldering buildings with ponies milling about them, often working to put out the last of the fires, though some simply wandered aimlessly. Almost half the town lay in ashes. There would be much work to settle those displaced by the flames, and several memorials for the lives lost, in the days to come. Most pressing to her mind, though, were the dozen or so cultists that had been captured.

I should have seen this coming, she told herself. The “Disilluminati” cultists had been known to her since Nightmare Moon’s banishment, and she had suspected that they existed since before then. There had always been ponies more loyal to Luna, especially among the chiroptera; It pained Celestia that her sister had never truly realized that before the seeds of jealousy took root.

There were many things that she wished she could have gotten Luna to understand. Namely, the many ways that Nightmare Moon’s hatred was unnecessary. Instead she was now left with the chaos that it had inspired.

How does one find such hatred and violence acceptable? If their minds are not to be swayed, and they long for nothing but victory, my death, what am I to do? Just the thought of them made her sick to her stomach.

They have burned, Celestia noted. They have killed. They do not deserve to see the light of day— or the dark of night, as it may be, again. She stared dumbly into the haze as she put together the implications of that thought. She could not pretend that those who eluded capture would remain peaceful. Not anymore. I cannot let this happen again.

She jumped at the sound of somepony knocking on the door across the room. After taking a moment to wipe the tears away and regain her composure, she responded.

”Enter.”

The door creaked open and General Firefly’s blue-maned head popped into view, shortly followed by the rest of her as she crossed the room. She bowed her head briefly.

“Your Highness.” She paused for a moment. “The fires are out, and the guard will have a body count by tomorrow morn.”

Celestia blinked. “And what of the cultists?”

“They say nothing that we did not already suspect.”

She gave Firefly an unamused glance. “Elaborate for me.”

“They are more than just devout followers of Nightmare Moon. They are true lunatics, if ever I saw any. As they see it, you are a tyrant that will kill all of ponykind with fire, and killing you will free Nightmare Moon.” Firefly let out a nervous laugh. “A load of horseapples, after what they did, however, they are clearly serious.”

“I see.” Celestia turned back towards the balcony, and took a deliberate breath to steady herself. “Dost thou think there are more of them out there?”

“Of course, princess.” Firefly walked to her side. “We have seen them, and the ones we have captured threaten that there will always be more.”

“What of other Cults?”

“What do you mean?” Firefly asked.

“If we take care of this one, if the Disilluminati ceased existing tomorrow, would nopony take their place, their role? Can you promise me that?”

Firefly only blinked in response, mouth hanging slightly open as she considered the question. Celestia did not wait for her response.

“I was naive enough to let this happen once, but I will not do so again. Firefly,” she said, turning her head to the general, “make an example of these… heathens. Tomorrow.” Before Firefly could protest, she added, “This will not wait.”

“What?”

“Firefly...” Celestia warned.

Firefly shook her head. “No.”

“Do not test my patience—”

Firefly stomped a hoof and shifted into a more upset tone. “Listen to thyself! Why should all not fear thee to be the tyrant they say thou art if thou have them all executed? Not a day after, even!”

“They have killed!”

“I have seen, princess. Why should that give thee the right to sink as low as them?”

Celestia shook with her anger. She had appointed Firefly as general because of experience, and most especially because she knew that she may need somepony willing to stand up to her if she were to step too far. Firefly was brash, but right. Every fiber of her being screamed for retribution, but she recognized that this was exactly the type moment her past self had been wary of.

“What wouldst thou have me say?,” she replied in honesty, though she directed some of her malice into a somewhat murderous glare. “I cannot think of an individual that is willing to commit such atrocities as a pony.”

“By thine own words, I will not have them killed. Does nothing less… permenant come to mind?”

Celestia continued her glare. “Whether or not you see fit to carry out their execution, they have no right to enjoy even the most destitute of Equestria’s dungeons.”

“Then banish them!” Firefly said, throwing her hooves into the air.

“And when they come back?”

“Then lock them up where thou banish them to!”

“Thou know’st just how impractical that would—” Celestia had an idea. There were many places that she could banish them to, and not all of them were in the same realm.

“I take it thou hast had a magical princess-y solution come to—”

“Quiet.”

Tartarus. With neither Luna nor Starswirl to help her anymore, though, the prospect of bridging the realms was daunting. The punishment was fitting, at least, for they truly would not see night or day again in its unending twilight.

I might as well get some practice.

“Very well, Firefly. They may rot in Tartarus for the rest of their days, and if I should ever have a reason to pay them attention for any reason, I shall know just where to find them. Does that satisfy thee?”

Firefly’s expression betrayed her discomfort long before her voice did. “I… suppose. Princess?”

Firefly had adopted a softer tone again, but Celestia still waited a moment in silence, watching soot blow through the wind, before she replied. “Yes?”

“You have dealt with murderers before, but they have never put you in a state like this. Heck, you so rarely consider execution for any reason. What sets these cultists apart?”

She sighed. She wanted to say that they were worse, that she was upset because they had killed so many, but what put it over the top for her was that they had done so in the name of Nightmare Moon, whom most ponies were painfully aware was her own sister.

“Luna deserves better.”

Firefly returned a confused expression at first, but Celestia watched as she put some of the pieces together.

She continued, “I know not what the future holds, but I will not tolerate such a besmirchment of her name. If I can find a way to bring her back someday, what good could come of Equestria’s perception of her being shaped by actions such as these?”

“No less than if you lend credence to their claims.”

Celestia let her glare speak for her.

Firefly shrugged and took a small step back. “Most only dream of a chance to shape the future. None of us are qualified to help you write it.” She bowed her head once again. “If you would excuse me, Princess, I will see to it that the Guard handles any immediate consequences tonight. You should get some rest. We can talk of the safety of the rest of Equestria’s towns tomorrow.”

Celestia nodded. She listened in a half-attentive state as the door closed behind Firefly a moment later. She was tired, even if her mind begged her not to sleep while there were loose ends yet.

She sighed. If only you were with us still, Starswirl, she thought. You warned us that ruling would be a challenge like no other, and followed through with the good sense not to stick around. Celestia cracked a pained smile at that thought.

You were never uncertain of what had to be done, even when you had not the faintest idea of how to do it. What would you do now?

Celestia dropped her gaze to her hooves. In her experience, he would do something crazy, something she would never have thought of, and it would indirectly solve their problem, even if imperfectly. You never did seem to think in a straight line. How can I preserve Luna’s name? How could I possibly untie her from the atrocities committed today?

For that, she had no answer, and that fact crushed her. Her mind did present another, more feasible option; however, it was not one that pleased her.

Perhaps it would be best if Nightmare Moon, Luna, and my sister were forgotten by history.

Author's Note

RoboFoME card:

Debt
2U
Enchantment — Song
Return that main phase of turn. (It deals damage to the upkeep."

The EUP forced this turn.

Whenever and card’s controls.

Chaotic 2RR (You may return if a cards & Practivate. (Activate enters on the begin without paying, protection top of turn.)

W, Sacrifice a Songs you cast.

The rest on that library. If you controls to control.

Expected yet ponies lurks in a higher putting for the ancient of the world, but are for the world."

Þis ſtory ſerues two prompts, þe ſecond being "Celestia the Survivor", as detailed in FoME's conteſt here.

I elected not to vſe Early Modern Engliſh orþography in þe narration or dialogue becauſe even a þouſand words of þis would be an vnneceßary torment to moſt readers.

Þis General Firefly is based on þe Firefly þat Rainbow Daſh's G4 character was baſed on, in þat I just looſely baſed her on Rainbow Daſh's character, keeping þe different ſetting in mind.

Merry Mutiny [Drama-ish]

Some ponies held a grudge. Trixie did not see herself as one of those ponies. Trixie did not simply hold a grudge, she lived it.

It was neigh impossible not to, in Trixie’s case. After she met Twilight Sparkle and those two irritating colts from Ponyville, most ponies would laugh her out of town. Those that didn’t… well, they didn’t exactly live in towns.

And so Trixie found herself in rock farming country, because if somepony wanted to stay in the loop, what worse place than in the large, barren swaths that maybe a dozen households were scattered about?

Trixie remembered her time farming rocks after a particularly stoic family offered her food and shelter in exchange, most of it just a big grey blur. It had been terrible and wonderful at the same time. Nopony talked about Trixie, nopony pointed and guffawed, and everypony else would probably forget about her.

But The Great and Powerful Trixie did not want a meager life of subsistence and silent, unenthusiastic, unimpressible company. Such an existence would be against every fiber of her being.

In her months farming rocks, little thoughts became big thoughts in the mental void that the lack of any excitement encouraged. Her anger with Twilight Sparkle had blossomed into a fierce determination to outshine the prodigal unicorn. That spotlight belonged to Trixie.

And now Trixie was one step away from taking it back.

* * *

“Barkeep,” Trixie set her now-empty mug down on the dusty counter, “another cider!”

The pony beside her stared with wide eyes. “You c’n hold yer drinks pretty well fur a unicorn.”

Trixie did not comment on any party-trick-magic she may or may not have used to improve her tolerance from ‘laughable’ to ‘formidable’. Trixie will pretend that you did not just insult unicorns.

“So, Trixie understands you know a lot about magical artifacts,” she said with a calculated, pleasant smile.

He nodded enthusiastically. “‘Ts true. I’ve studied ‘em fer years. Somma them ‘re pretty espens’ve.” He finished off his own mug, then hiccuped.

The stallion tending the bar replaced her mug, full with cider again. Trixie considered it, and shot a glance at the pony beside her. He was, again, staring at her, wide eyed. Trixie upended the mug and chugged its contents. When Trixie finished, she gave him a smirk.

“Argh.” He huffed, and shook his head. “A’right. ’M smart enough to see ‘m—” another hiccup “—not gonna win this. What’ya want?”

Trixie shrugged. “Oh, nothing much. It’s just, since you keep track of the black market for artifacts—”

“Keep yer voice down,” he pleaded.

“—I was wondering if you knew of anything extra special. An amulet, perhaps?“

* * *

Trixie’s friend had been kind enough to point her to the right alleyways in Canterlot before she gave him the slip, which would be her next stop, just as soon as she found the little filly’s room.

Author's Note

RoboFoME card:

Merry Mutiny

Enchantment — Equipmental
At the number of the battlefield.

It’s stomach his or her hand attack in any number of victory moment all combat if able.

Equip abilities their super Dust choice it: Search an Aura attack.

"It is the middle of the place."
—Princess Twilight Sparkle solutely little variance among target."
—Trixie Lulamoon, traveling.

I'm not really convinced that I did a good job with the drunken speaking. I don't exactly have a bunch of experience in that area.

Explode Twice [Adventure Comedy]

“... and so Twilight wants to get a pony stuck in space so we can find out if there is anything new over the sun. Isn’t it great?” Pinkie Pie beamed.

Prince Rutherford snorted. “Ponies silly. Yaks know about ‘gravity’. Gravity makes yaks heavy. Pony will just fall back down.”

“Maaaybe. Twilight says there’s more to going to space than just going up. We have to go sideways a lot, too.”

“Space is not sideways. Sideways just mountains.”

“That’s why the pony goes up first, silly. Then they go sideways, and bam, they’re stuck in space!”

Rutherford considered this for a moment. “Hmmm… Yaks not sure. Why pegasus not just fly up to space?”

“Because, uh...” Pinkie scrunched her muzzle in thought. “Oh! It’s like a really tall mountain, right? If you try to climb to the top, the air gets really cold and hard to breathe. Twilight says there’s no air at all in space!”

“Hah!” Rutherford boomed. “Yaks strong. Yaks climb all mountains. Maybe ponies need yaks to go to space for them if ponies have trouble breathing. Yaks very warm, too. Yaks not have these problems.”

“You do have a point,” Pinkie replied. “But I still think you have to bring some air with you.”

Rutherford stood up. “This matter settled. Tell ponies that yaks go to Space! Yaks tell ponies what space like after.”

“Okie dokie lokie.”

“You come back in two weeks. Yaks ready to go to space by then.”

* * *

Twilight hadn’t been happy with the yaks’ announcement that they’d be running their own space program, but she agreed that Pinkie might as well be the liaison, just in case either Equestria could learn something from the yaks’ attempts, or some measure of safety procedure might rub off on them. Shortly after Pinkie first beheld the blueprints for their chosen method of ascent, though, she discounted any notion that yaks fully understood what ‘safety’ was.

“So, why doesn’t this include yaks?” she asked the yak engineer that Rutherford had assigned to explain the machine to her before the launch. Pinkie Pie knew he was an engineer because he had one of the yellow hard-hats that engineers wore.

“This sphere here is yak.” He pointed to a sphere indicated to fit in the capsule’s diagram. “Yak-sphere makes math easier.”

“Uh huh.” She pointed to a bunch of leg-like protrusions off of the main barrel. “So what are these?”

“Yaks use what yaks do best to make force. Yaks stomp. Power from yak stomps go through here to make capsule fly. Force hit capsule like backwards fall where ground hit yak instead.

“When space-yak in space, space-yak stomp this to make space-yak capsule half go sideways, like yak jump, where ground and yak move apart.”

Pinkie let out a whistle. “Wow, you guys really are good.”

“Me not tell Prince Rutherford, but yaks not sure how big ground is. There is small chance space-yak will not stay in space.”

“That’s… a really big fall.”

“Yaks strong. Space-yak will be fine. Capsule hit ground before space-yak anyway.” The engineer rolled up the blueprints. “Pink Pony understand how launch work now. Space-yak go to space in hour, when sun not so bright. Yaks have celebration snacks ready for after.”

* * *

Pinkie Pie found herself looking at what might have passed for her party cannon, if it hadn’t been about twenty times larger and planted firmly in the ground. The pneumatic lines ran out the back like a fuse, and while the wheels didn’t allow for free movement, they did serve as the mechanism for adjusting the angle of launch. The barrel was pointed mostly up and slightly south at the moment. The yak engineers had assured her that there was less ocean in that direction.

Apparently yaks did not like the prospect of swimming.

Pinkie was shown to Rutherford’s stand, several horns’ distance behind the barrel, where the glare from the white snow all around wouldn’t affect their ability to see. Another two yaks had telescopes set up on either side of the stand.

“YAKS AT READY,” Rutherford called as she took her place.

About two dozen yaks stepped up to their respective pads, lined up on either side of the space-cannon.

Another yak climbed out of the barrel and slid down its length. “Space yak is ready!” she called.

“Good,” Rutherford boomed back. He turned to Pinkie and smiled. “Pink Pony get honor of count down.”

“Eeeeee awesome! I love counting down for important things!”

Pinkie cleared her throat, and in her yak-iest voice, began. “Ten— no, too long. THREE...

“TWO...”

All the yaks present visibly tensed, even those not preparing to stomp with all their might.

“ONE...”

The excitement and pressure of the moment threatened to put her in overdrive, but if she called out early, the yaks might get confused. They did like music, after all, and they certainly knew what a rhythm was.

But Celestia’s Frown it felt like forever.

“STOMP!”

She watched all the yaks jump up in unison, and shortly drop down on their pads. She had expected more of a ground-shaking rumble, but when they landed, she didn’t feel a thing.

Until a split-second later, when the end of the cannon erupted with a concussive blast, roughly fitting for the stomps of about two dozen yaks. Pinkie flopped her ears to make sure they were still attached. They didn’t seem to be working right, because she was pretty sure her cannon didn’t ring like that after she fired it.

“Space-yak going up,” called one of the telescope yaks.

“Space-yak definitely going to space,” confirmed the other.

“When Space-yak stomp sideways?” Rutherford asked.

“Space-yak stomp sideways soon,” replied one of the engineers.

“Ooohh so exciting!” Pinkie Pie pulled out a pair of binoculars and focused in on the speck they were all watching. After what felt like mere seconds, but the rational sliver of her mind suggested was probably actually a couple of minutes after launch, she saw the capsule burst apart into two chunks, both flying away from each other extremely fast. It looked like the yaks succeeded.

Twilight was going to be jealous.

* * *

“… and then we had cake!”

Twilight Sparkle sighed. “Pinkie Pie, you know the yaks didn’t actually get to space, right?”

“Really? How do you know?”

Twilight pulled out a notebook and scribbled out a rough picture. “We measured the capsule’s velocity during its descent and calculated its trajectory, since we know where it was launched from. It wasn’t falling fast enough to have breached the aeropause. Also… the capsule landed just east of Vanhoover. Even though they launched from a mountain, the yak capsule didn’t even end up with one tenth of the total change in velocity needed to actually reach orbit.”

Pinkie deflated somewhat. “Oh, okay.”

“We did learn something important, though.”

“What’s that?”

“The yak pilot says the ground was definitely not flat. After she gave us her list of credentials on why she would know what ‘not flat’ was, she reported that Equestria actually has a slight curve to it!”

“Cool,” Pinkie said. “And it sounds like the yaks will definitely make it next time. One of the engineers told me about the fire-stomping powder they were working on to stomp the space-yak even harder.”

Twilight froze with a look of trepidation.

“You mean they’re going to start using explosives?”

Author's Note

RoboFoME Card:

Explode Twice
1RR
Instant
The next two 1/1 white.)

When and you cast havens, and size. Damage equal to its control of turn.

Counters the top three or she rest into you do, each Plant with the earned it.

"Oh, I swear come and your audience on the truth, them.

No formatting because this card was sent through Discord first.

FanOfMostEverything went ahead and made cards based on this story (which is based on RoboFoME... etc. All the meta.) which I will now provide here:

Yak Editor 4R
Creature — Ox Bureaucrat
Whenever a player casts a wordy spell, Yak Editor deals 3 damage to that player. (Something is wordy if it has four or more lines of text in its text box.)*
*“Story not perfect. Yak smash!”
4/4

Spherical Assumption 2(gu)
Instant
Target creature loses all creature types and has base power and toughness 3/3 until end of turn.
“It’s so much simpler this way.”*
*—Jalira, master polymorphist

Void Smasher 4GU
Creature — Ox Warrior
Flying, trample Void Smasher can’t block creatures without flying. You may cast Void Smasher from exile.
”Must smash Eldrazi from orbit. Is only way to be sure.”
4/4

Update: There's more, inspired by and building on the concepts explored here.

Resident Elder's Map [Adventure]

The ground erupted before Twilight. Not in a remotely figurative sense; a massive explosion sent stone and molten rock dozens – if not hundreds – of meters into the air. The most massive tatzlwurm Twilight had ever seen protruded from ground’s new maw.

“Whoa.”

Twilight glanced to her side, where Dragonlord Ember stood. Ember, for her part, seemed a little less surprised; she had seen it before. That didn’t stop her or any of the other dragons present from gaping, grimacing, or shifting uncomfortably.

Twilight leaned closer to Ember. “Heh. Are you sure it’s just a… ‘big’ tunneling tatzlwurm?”

“I figured you would understand. ‘Big’ for a dragon means ‘big for a dragon’. No offence, but I wouldn’t have asked you for help if we could handle it.”

Ahead of her, the titanic tatzlwurm unfurled a set of massive, leathery wings.

Twilight’s felt her stomach sink. “Oh, greeeaaat. Does it breathe fire, too?”

“Well—”

“Nevermind. Here it comes! Don’t—”

“ATTACK!”

The rest of Twilight’s sentence was lost to the roaring thunder of dozens of dragons taking off, each flap of their wings adding a drumbeat to the cacophony.

Twilight reluctantly took off after them. For all the magic she knew and wielded, there was still a small piece of her in the back of her mind that helpfully reminded her that this is the sort of thing that could kill a pony.

It could kill a Dragon, for that matter. Thank Celestia she left Spike in Equestria. Twilight resolved to make the fight a quick one: There would be no holding back.

A few moments after takeoff, Twilight had gotten close enough to appreciate just how big the tatzlwurm was. In her first encounter with a tunneling tatzlwurm, Twilight had noted that a pony would be merely snack-sized from its perspective. This one dwarfed some of the larger dragons in much the same way. Former Dragonlord Torch would at best be a proper meal.

By then, some of the faster dragons had made it to the tatzlwurm and, light in stature as they were, stood no chance against the currents produced by the tatzlwurm’s wings.

Twilight had hoped to establish some sort of strategy beforehoof, but she supposed that she was lucky enough that so many dragons were cooperating in any sense in the first place.

Some of the heavier dragons started swooping in and harassing the taztlwurm with bouts of fire. The tatzlwurm responded by lurching forward and snapping at the cloud of dragons. The dragons dove out of the way in every direction.

‘It’s now or never’, Twilight told herself. She started to gather all of the magic she had. It would take a moment, but the next time she had an open shot, she wanted to be ready to unload enough devastating power to flatten her castle at least three times over all at once.

For the next few moments, Twilight remained vaguely aware of the dragons swooping around, and tatzlwurm trying to grab a snack for its trouble, and the occasional dragon bouncing off of it when they tried to bite it. All the while her horn glowed brighter and brighter.

The tatzlwurm whipped its tail in response to some of the dragons’ harassment, and the current nearly toppled Twilight before she regained her balance.

She had charged her attack before long, but moment after moment passed without the formation of another opening.

At some point, Ember finally noticed Twilight’s horn glowing and spurting little drops of magic as she struggled to keep it all under control yet ready to discharge.

“MOVE IT OR LOSE IT, GUYS!”

It only took a couple of seconds for all of the dragons to swerve out of the way.

Twilight let go.

The world in front of her washed out as her magic arced towards the tatzlwurm.

The world around her flashed a brighter white as it struck. An instant later, the shockwave caught her and shoved her back with a deafening roar.

The world around her faded to black after she noticed a massive plume of fire shooting for her and she tapped the reserves of an already-depleted alicorn to protect herself.

Twilight lifted her head up off the ground and rubbed her sore muzzle. Then she noticed how hot the room felt. She opened her eyes and saw the stony walls and floor a dimly-lit cavern.

“...what— Oh.” Going ‘all in’ with her magic blast at the tatzlwurm seemed like a bad tactical decision in hindsight. She resolved to save a little more back if she ever did that again; it wasn’t worth the headache.

Twilight looked around. The cavern itself seemed empty, but she could see dragons in the conjoined caves. None of them looked happy.

“Oh, good; you’re awake.”

Twilight jumped a little; Ember’s voice had come from behind her.

“What in the name of Celestia was that?” Twilight demanded as she turned to face Ember. “And why didn’t you think details like ‘it can fly, or ‘it’s immune to your magic’ were worth mentioning in the first place?”

“I’m sorry, Twilight. I didn’t know your magic wouldn’t stop it. But you did drive it off.”

Twilight huffed. “That doesn’t solve the problem.”

“I know. For what it’s worth, it wasn’t a complete waste. After blasting the tatzlwurm like that, everydragon stopped calling you names.”

“That doesn’t help me stop the tatzlwurm.” Twilight stood up all the way. “I don’t suppose you can explain just what in tartarus makes a tatzlwurm grow so big? Books on them are hard enough to come by, but there is nothing in my library that explains what would make a tatzlwurm grow wings and breath fire.”

“I...”

Twilight put a hoof to her forehead. “Please don’t tell me you did this on purpose.”

“No!” Ember sighed. “There are… crystal formations buried throughout the Dragonlands. The Dragonlord and very few elders know about them; they’re the most important hoard in the Dragonlands. They’re full of draconic magic, Twilight, and the tatzlwurm found one and ate some of the crystals.”

Twilight’s eyes lit up. “Can you... show me one?”

Ember shifted uncomfortably. “I could…. The closest one is a little bit more special. I wouldn’t even consider it if the tatzlwurm didn’t pose a threat to every one of us, but you have to promise that you will not tell anyone else about this.”

“Not even Spike?”

“As his Dragonlord, it is my privilege to tell him or not.”

Twilight sighed. “Okay then. Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye— ow.”

“What?”

“It’s a ‘Pinkie Promise’. She takes them very seriously and I know better than to break one.”

Ember gave her an odd look. “Okay, then. Follow me; it’s going to be a bit of a flight.”

At the entrance of the new cavern, Twilight had to cast an air-filtering spell to keep out the noxious fumes before entering it seemed safe.

Ember pointed at the hole in the side of the cavern. “The formation is down here, but… I don’t exactly know how you’re going to get to it. Spike warned me that ponies aren’t fireproof at all.”

Twilight took a look down the tunnel. Way down, there was a distinct red glow.

She gulped. “Is that the only way to reach it?”

“Yep. Da— Dragonlord Torch says that a clever Dragonlord had a magma flow redirected to cross the tunnel so that only dragons could get past; the tunnel dips down enough that part of it gets completely flooded. Can you teleport past it?”

“Teleporting to somewhere that I haven’t been before is tricky, and in this case, I don’t want to miss and end up embedded in the walls or swimming in magma.”

“A few minutes in a lava pond really relaxes the muscles, though.” Ember winked. “You should try it sometime.”

“Heh. I think I’ll pass.” Twilight put a hoof to her chin. “Actually, that might work.”

“What?”

“When you said we weren’t fireproof, I discounted the idea of casting a shielding spell like the one I used to protect myself from the tatzlwurm’s fire because I wouldn’t be able to make my way through, but if I hold on to you, it might work.”

“Great.” Twilight protested as Ember picked her up. “Cast your spell and let’s go, then.”

“Wait! I need to go outside and gather some air, first. It won’t be any safer for me on the other side of the magma flow.”

After Ember emerged on the other side of the magma flow. Twilight noticed the large, red crystal formation in the rough center of the cavern first. It almost seemed to growl with its magic energy.

“I would keep your shield spell up if I were you.”

Ember set Twilight down. Twilight looked at the floor. It was mostly solid, but thin lines of magma cut through it, meandering without any apparent pattern. They varied in width, and sometimes they formed puddles. Smaller crystal formations protruded from some of these puddles.

“I’ll give you a hint: We’re in the middle.” Ember tapped on the center formation. “Here.”

Twilight looked back at the floor. “It’s… a map?”

“I guess that’s something you and I have in common: a crystal map room. These shards represent the other formations. This room is older than anydragon knows, and supposedly the dragon who first sensed the crystals and carved this room was already ancient when he did.

“I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but feel free not to memorize the layout. The crystal is what’s important anyway.”

“Right. Um… we’ll see.” Twilight tapped the crystal herself. She didn’t know offhoof just how understanding it could help her stop the tatzlwurm. “Just how much am I allowed to experiment on it?”

“It’s dragon magic. As long as none of the crystal leaves this cavern, the crystal will probably recover. It wouldn’t be the first time the crystal got wrecked for one reason or another.”

Twilight focused on the crystal again. The thought made her a little bit uncomfortable, but she did know of an entire class of magic built around crystals.

“It shouldn’t take me long to see if this will work.”

After they had rejoined the hunters, one of the dragons told Ember that they had found the tatzlwurm again.

Between flying between various mountains and her first encounter with the tatzlwurm that morning, Twilight felt worn out. She recognized the danger of a dragon-powered tatzlwurm, though, and her experiments on a few crystal shavings had yielded hopeful results. Fortunately, the spell Twilight planned to use would be much more specific and much more efficient.

They took flight for the mountain where the tatzlwurm had been found.

When Twilight had seen the mountain from a distance, it had looked a little rough, but otherwise normal. A closer look showed that a large portion of the mountain’s side had been blown apart by another one of the tatzlwurm’s entrances or exits.

Some of the dragons worked to tease the tatzlwurm out again. It didn’t take long. There may have already been a hole in the mountain, but the ground erupted again all the same.

Twilight scouted out a relatively safe spot to land, as Sombra’s magic only conducted through solids and she didn’t want to be touching the tatzlwurm if she could avoid it. It almost would have been better if they had left the tatzlwurm in the ground, but Twilight didn’t think she would have succeeded in targeting it.

For their part, the dragons harrassed the tatzlwurm close to the ground, and it showed no signs that it wanted to take flight.

Twilight tuned out the commotion. She started letting the darker recesses of her mind take prominence in her magic. She especially encouraged her greed; both draconic and Sombra’s magic were deeply rooted in it. It was vital that she wanted those stones for herself.

‘Those crystals represent untold insight into the magic of dragons!’

For just one moment, this couldn’t be a favor to the Dragonlord and a pinkie promise didn’t matter. For that moment, the tatzlwurm had something that belonged to Twilight. Something that wanted to be with her. The tatzlwurm was nothing and the crystals were everything.

Twilight locked on to the crystals within the tatzlwurm and started casting.

Twilight told herself that the crystals should be preserved. Respected. The tatzlwurm didn’t deserve their magic. She told the crystals to take it back. She told the crystals to join together and to come to her.

The tatzlwurm shrieked and the spell broke as Twilight jerked her head up. She found the sight somewhat disturbing. The crystals had burst out of the tatzlwurm’s midsection and the tatzlwurm had split in two. Each half of the worm appeared to dissolve without the crystals’ magic maintaining their larger size.

After flailing around for a moment, the tatzlwurm halves retreated to the original hole and disappeared from her sight. Several dragons followed in pursuit.

A couple of minutes later, Ember landed next to Twilight and sighed. “I was hoping that wouldn’t happen.”

“But we got the crystals out!”

“That’s true, but if you cut a normal tatzlwurm in half, it grows into two full ones.”

“Oh.” Twilight grimaced at the thought. “You don’t think it— they... remember where the crystals came from, do you?”

Author's Note

RoboFoME card:

Resident Elders' Map

XX

Enchantment — Wurm
Whenever a suspend made in your library.)

Countered this turn, all is attention at all that shaves in the battlefield this turn.

U: Tap target creature your hand, they’re face down.

"If ponies' face."
—Twilight’s all the deadly.

Have you ever wondered how I turn a card like the one above into a story like this one? I know I have! I wrote a blog post about it anyway, which you can find here.

Species Relocation [Slice of Life]

Ditzy adjusted her mailmare hat, then gave the wooden door before her two solid knocks.

Cranky’s reply came through: “One moment.”

True to his word, the door unlatch and Cranky pulled it open after what Ditzy estimated to be ‘one moment’.

“Oh, it’s you. You can come on in.”

“Thanks,” Ditzy replied as she stepped through. Cranky’s home appeared as cluttered as ever, yet Ditzy learned some time ago that any randomly selected object would likely have some significant sentimental value and a fantastic story behind it.

Dinky loved storytime with Cranky, and Ditzy knew better than the grumpy face Cranky put on in the morning said; he liked storytime too.

“Sorry about the mess. I’m still not used to having company around. Besides Matilda.”

He apologised every time.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I think your house feels cozy because of it.”

“That’s the way I like it.” He made his way to the fireplace and carefully retrieved a pot of boiling liquid. “Coffee?”

“No, not this late in the day. I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight.”

Cranky grumbled that it was still morning and poured himself a mug.

“Anyway, Fluttershy requested a special delivery. The post office doesn’t have a cart big enough and the Apple family’s equipment is tied up with the Zap Apple harvest. I’m here to ask if we can borrow yours.”

“Will it come back full of coffee? Because if that’s what’s going to happen, I think I can loan it to a friend for a while.”

“It can come back with whatever Barnyard Bargains has left in stock, but you’re paying for it. Celestia knows I couldn’t afford to raise Dinky and buy all of your coffee.”

Cranky took a sip from his mug. “All right. Fine. Just let me clean it out first… after I finish my coffee.”

Ditzy pulled the wagon up to Fluttershy’s cottage. After she unentangled herself from the harness, she went up to Fluttershy’s door and knocked.

Rainbow Dash answered the door.

“Oh, hey, Ditz.”

“Hey, Dash. I brought the cart; where’s Fluttershy?”

“She’s out back, filling buckets. You might want to bring the wagon over there. I’m going to fetch a couple of clouds and a few necessities.”

“Okay.”

Ditzy hooked up to the cart again and pulled it around back, where Fluttershy stood next to a large pond some distance away. She watched as Fluttershy swiped a net through the water and scooped it up with a cup a moment later. She poured the cup into one of the many wooden buckets that sat around her.

“Hi, Fluttershy.” Ditzy waved. “I brought the cart.”

Fluttershy looked up. “Oh, good. I hope Cranky didn’t mind.”

“I told him that we appreciate his noble sacrifice. I don’t think he really minds, though.” Ditzy shrugged. “Even if it smells like raw fish when he gets it back, he probably won’t notice it over the coffee.”

“These fish aren’t food – In fact, I really hope they all stay alive.”

“Don’t worry; I’m joking. I don’t think the cart is going to smell like fish at all.”

“Oh, okay.” Fluttershy glanced around. “Did Rainbow Dash get her clouds?”

“She left to fetch them a few minutes ago.”

Fluttershy looked back at the closest bucket of fish. “I see. I hoped we could get the fish to their new home before it got too hot out.”

“Don’t worry, Fluttershy. With the clouds and the tarp shading them from the sun, the fish should be fine. If it gets too hot, Dash and I took some of the advanced weather magic courses in school, so we both know how to make snow clouds even in warmer weather if it’s necessary.”

“Rainbow Dash said she slept through those classes a lot.”

“Then I know how to make snow clouds in warm weather. I guess Dash wouldn’t need them to become the weather team leader of an earth pony village. Now let’s load up the cart.”

Ditzy felt content pulling the wagon of fish, heavy as it was. She had pulled carts of mail between towns before, and if she had learned anything from the experience, it was that paper was heavy.

Rainbow Dash, on the other hoof, had pushed the clouds above the wagon for an hour, then started to complain.

“Three more hours to go? Why are we even doing this? How could a few buckets of fish possibly be this important?”

“Some of the streams in Galloping Gorge dried up two summers back and the fish population nearly died off in those areas,” Fluttershy replied. “The local Fish and Wildlife committee planted more trees and dug out some spots, but if there are no fish there, they can’t repopulate.”

“That sounds pretty important,” Ditzy remarked.

“I don’t think the ecosystem would collapse without them, but yeah, it is a pretty big deal. Can you stop for a minute? I’d like to check on them and make sure we haven’t splashed too much water out.”

“Sure. I could go for a quick break.” Ditzy turned her attention to the cloud above. “Dash, you got any soda up there?”

Dash’s head poked out from the edge of her clouds, shortly followed by a hoof holding a case of drinks. “What did I say? ‘A few essentials.’”

It hadn’t taken long to unload the cart once they had arrived, though Fluttershy insisted on feeding them after the trip so that they wouldn’t have to worry so much about finding food on their own immediately.

After the addition of new fish to the stream, Ditzy stacked the buckets back on the cart. She also took a discreet sniff, just to be sure; it still smelled vaguely like a damp, dusty attic.

A few days later…

“Now if you’re wondering why I had you all come out here.” Cranky said, addressing the dozen-or-so foals and their parents sitting on the bridge with him. “It’s because I won’t be telling tonight’s story.”

The foals collectively “awww”ed. Cranky had commandeered one of the bridges the largest stream that cut through Ponyville.

“But mommy,” Dinky whispered to Ditzy, “you said Cranky had a good one planned for today!”

Ditzy smiled and ruffled her daughter’s hair. “You’ll see.”

“We’re going to have a guest storyteller tonight: Stephan.”

With that, the stream below started to churn and a moment later, a giant purple reptile sporting a dashing orange set of facial hair emerged.

Stephan cooed. “Oh you are all so precious. Now, have I got a story for you. Cranky and I go way back, and if you think we can get ourselves into trouble now, you haven’t seen anything.

“It all started with a rivalry at a cornhole tournament...”

Author's Note

RoboFoME Card (Ditzy Doodle Donkey edition):

Species Relocation

2B

Tribalke — Equipmental
R, Tap up to one or block an additioner, then puts than the two target spell, if its power is one to arrivalry, the battlefield. It has "1, Sacrifice can’t be copy them into its.)

5/5

"Bandages mad, who need calamari since."
—Ditzy Doodle Donkey?"
—Rainbow Dash, Bearer of pop

“Ditzy Doodle Donkey” is a string that shows up in RoboFoME cards often enough that I decided to seek one out. I didn’t have to look too hard, because, you know, it’s not all that uncommon. This time, I decided that Ditzy Doo and Cranky Doodle are friends. I might not take it the same way next time.

“Bearer of pop” is also fairly common, so I got two birds with one stone with this one.

A lot of the fish details are handwave-y on my part, but I did look up at least a couple of things, so I hope I didn’t get something abysmally wrong.

I imagine ponies like Ditzy and Dash have a fair bit of history and it’s slightly odd that they act so distant to each other. I looked at a couple of specific images from Parental Glideance (the ones with filly-Dash race award lineups), and there’s a pile of future Wonderbolts, Lightning Dust, and Ditzy/Derpy there, and they hardly act as though they went to school together. (Not that I expect perfect continuity here.)

Reading some of Admiral Biscuit’s works has definitely influenced what comes to mind while writing something slice-of-life.

I like to think Dash’s case of soda was enchanted/built to not fall through clouds. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if Pegasi tend to use clouds as coolers when they go on picnics and things.

Horrible Mechanical [Slice of Life, OCs]

A few days in the work life of Trinket Toss.

June 11, Monday.

Boss assigned me to fix a small airship today. Its mass was probably under 10 tons, though Boss didn’t specify the model. I could only hope it wouldn’t be necessary to know the model number to find the right parts to fix ut. Apparently, the customer brought it in because it “turns sluggish” and “the lift doesn’t feel right”. I guess that’s better than saying “it doesn’t fly normal”.

Boss didn’t think the model number was important for the small airship I had to fix today so he didn’t try and find it. I wish I could say this was the first time. He told me if it was so important that I could find it listed on or near the ship’s wheel. I would have explained that most ships didn’t have that, especially if the wheel had been replaced, but it wasn’t worth it. Part numbers were the best I could expect, and those aren’t always present.

Boss worked in his office most of the day, which was good. Ether kept me company, but she got in the way a bunch. I couldn’t be angry at her, though. Boss just thought she was a stray cat that hung around, but if he ever went out back, he might see the bowls I fill every day for her.

This ship was a standard steam-lift, steam-power model. Packer (his name is actually Pay Load, but we just call him Packer ‘cause he packs the gasbags up a lot) had no trouble stowing the gasbag.

I checked the steering system first: The ship uses a pulley transmission from the ship’s wheel, and it doesn’t look like the motors are involved in turning or at least not with the wheel and I guess this ship just turns slow anyway. The rear rudder assembly was rusted a lot. The whole assembly needed to be replaced. I tugged the pulley and it wasn’t any harder to turn than I expected, but more parts of the rudder assembly were moving than were supposed to. The rudder probably didn’t turn as far as it was supposed to, either. The rusting probably started a long time ago and the customer never bothered to bring it in.

I have to wonder why ponies or companies can buy expensive ships and then not take them in for maintenance or repairs for so long, but they do that a lot. Last month, Wing Nut spent two weeks fixing almost everything on one used for internal deliveries by a company. It almost would have been easier to build a new one, but I don’t think it would have been cheaper.

I told Packer that the rusting suggested a gasbag leak because there weren’t any water lines ran nearby and the boiler wasn’t close either. He’s going to pump air in and check later.

Rusted bolts don’t come off well, but there are some holding the rudder assembly together and the gears especially and I need them to come off. I used a hammer to force the wrench, and it worked, but the wrench was all wonky after. Wing Nut has a large set of specialty wrenches and I think some are longer and they are all stronger. I probably should have borrowed one.

I’ll have to take measurements for the parts, but they don’t look special and shouldn’t be hard to find replacements for.

After I got the rudder assembly completely off, I talked to Wing Nut about her set of wrenches and she told me where I could buy them, but they weren’t cheap. Boss never agreed on buying tools that were expensive, so I would have to pay for them myself if I wanted them. Wing Nut said it was okay if I needed to borrow one, though, but not to hit it with a hammer because that was her privilege.

I found the parts to replace the rudder assembly in our catalogue. I asked Boss if we should order the rust-resistant ones but he said the customer hadn’t asked for it and that would just increase the repair cost so no. I figured Boss would say that.

June 12, Tuesday.

There was a special airship in the drydock today. Boss says it’s an important customer.

It’s a BD-12. I know Yellow Diamond is a company that makes magitech engines and boilers and imbued materials and things and I heard they made a sister company to start manufacturing their own airships, but I haven’t seen any ships built by Blue Diamond before.

The problem is that the right-side engine isn’t spinning up as fast and that’s turning the ship when it accelerates or slows down. I wasn’t certified to fix magitech engines but Boss told me to try anyway because it was still an airship so how different could it be?

Boss still won’t get my name right. He calls me “Tinker”. I admit it’s not really far off from “Trinket Toss”, but he won’t even try and that’s what annoys me.

His “important customer” I think is a buddy he golfs with who must have a lot more bits than I do, because magitech airships are expensive. His buddy is probably a unicorn, too, because the doorways to the rooms on the airship are small but peaked, which you usually see on airships that unicorns pilot because of their horns. I don’t know what Boss gets in return but I think it must be something. Maybe he just want to look good in front of his friends. Canterlot ponies are like that a lot.

I can just imagine Boss complaining to some rich pony about how the ponies who work for him can barely do their jobs and aren’t as smart as he is. I’d bet my savings that he does. I told him I wasn’t certified and we got into a bit of an argument about how hard it was to fix arships and how magic worked. I think Boss thinks that all magic is the same but pegasus magic and unicorn magic aren’t and I don’t think earth pony magic is the same either. I don’t know what earth pony magic is any more than I think he knows what pegasus magic is. I don’t even think he knows what unicorn magic is beyond his own horn.

It took a couple of hours for me to open up the engine and be confident that I wouldn’t break it worse and forget how to put it back together. It was pretty neat to see the faintly-glowing lines running through and a few larger crystals neatly arranged around a similarly-glowing rod, which faded into the metal shaft that the propellers were attached to. One of the crystals looked a little more dull than its friends, and I wondered if it was cracked but I couldn’t get a good look without taking the engine apart more.

Over lunch, Flywheel and Wing Nut and I talked about it and from what we knew, the crystals were the accelerators and they made the shaft spin. If one was broken that’d make sense because the engines are probably supposed to stop at a certain speed for safety reasons, so it wouldn’t make a difference once the engine got up to that speed.

Then we also talked about airships in general. Flywheel knew that Princess Twilight Sparkle had given out grants for airship research a few months ago, and that Yellow Diamond had gotten a big one for trying to power a boiler with just draconic mana. We all figured that we’d start to see some new parts and models of airships before too long, so we’d probably want to read up on who’s doing what. Packer joined us and said he heard about a double-layered gasbag prototype in the works so the middle could have superheated steam that was lighter but the outside would be colder steam and it would still act as a condenser for the engines.

Packer also told me I was right and he found the hole in the unidentified airship’s balloon so he was working on patching it up.

I took the engine apart some more and the crystal was definitely not right. I don’t know what caused it, though, and that has me worried. I traced the ley lines to the onboard mana bank (that’s what powers the accelerators). I guess maybe the mana bank or the ley lines could have had something to do with it, kind of like a leaky pipe.

I had to shoo Ether away so that she didn’t try and jump in front of me, which would have been into an engine. After I had opened the one engine, I opened the opposite one so I could compare and that’s how I knew the crystal was bad. I’m at my wit’s end trying to figure this out because I really don’t know that much about magitech but that doesn’t matter to Boss. I guess that makes sense because I don’t think he knows much about anything other than money and that doesn’t matter to him.

Boss came in to check on me again and he wanted to know why I opened the other engine. That started another argument about why he accepted a magitech airship in the first place when nobody here knew how to fix them. I would feel worse arguing with him but I knew it was just the way he was and he argued with everyone the same way. I told him I didn’t want to make it worse by removing the wrong bolt or something but he wasn’t really happy with anything I could say. He told me he wanted it done by the end of tomorrow then he went to his office. I’m glad he did that because he helps us fix the airships sometimes and about half the time he just makes it harder to get anything done.

I finished tracing the ley lines after he left so I wrote him a note. I knew approximately how to check for bad ley lines or a leaky mana bank, but I wasn’t a unicorn so I’d need special tools for that and he would have to rent them. I don’t think he’ll be happy with that. I didn’t say it was because I wasn’t a unicorn, because if I did that then I know he’d just diagnose them himself and I don’t think he would do a good job of it.

June 13, Wednesday

The BD-12 suffered another crystal failure, probably due to a bad ley line or mana bank. It isn’t possible for me to tell without the proper equipment, which Boss did not opt to rent.

When I got to the drydock, he complained about how late I stayed yesterday because he’d have to pay me overtime. And he had decided that he was going to diagnose the ley lines and mana bank himself and he had already sent for a new crystal. I told him we should get a proper thaumometer and diagnostic interface, but he said they never worked right and the last time he used one it displayed the number four followed by a bunch of gibberish letters. I almost told him that was probably an error code, but I didn’t want to argue against Boss, who was never wrong.

I ended up helping Packer fix a personal airship that had been caught in a gust while landing and run into some trees. Mostly the hull had been banged up, but some of the water lines needed replaced and that’s what I did. The gasbag was intact, so Tow Line took the tug-ship out and spent the morning bringing it in. Tow Line is nice, and I kind of wish he had more reason to come by.

Then we heard a loud “poof”, which sounded sort of silly and sort of serious. That’s when the second crystal failed. Boss had decided, qualified only by his status as a unicorn, that the mana system was fine, so he replaced the crystal and fired it up (figuratively, because it didn’t need a fire). I’ve heard of “magic smoke” coming from magitech failures, but the green haze was more than I had expected.

Boss started yelling at me about how I should have known that something else was wrong and I started yelling back that he just determined it was safe, but the way he saw it, I didn’t know what was wrong exactly so it was my fault anyway. I don’t think he completely believed that deep down or he might have fired me. Or he’s just not good at running a drydock because I probably would have fired someone if I knew they did something very wrong that cost a lot of money.

One day, maybe I can build my own drydock and run it myself so I don’t have to deal with ponies like this. Boss was furious at everything (except Ether) for the rest of the day.

The replacement rudder assembly for the airship I looked at two days ago arrived, so I spent some time installing that and I’m glad it was in the bay farthest from his office.

Author's Note

RoboFoME card (Admiral Biscuit edition):

Horrible Mechanical
4U
Enchantment — Cat
Reach

When Ethere's power another creature or she diary science".

Twilight Miasma enters the number of crediterrain, she way to cast Trinket Toss was all enchanted Wyrm has four.gquqoption

"We shaped them for pegasi and down, but I’d horn.

Admiral Biscuit chose this card for me, so I felt it reasonable to pull inspiration from his style and a couple of his works (probably most heavily from Silver Glow’s Journal). Also his actual life and job. He’s a pretty neat guy.

There are more notes for this story than made it in. I slightly question the use of a journal framing device, but it got me to write the thing, so that’s a plus.

Steam-lifted airships are not really a thing, but there’s a cool website that discusses them and the person who set it up has done some experiments. Overall (I have found a few mentions of using it in other discussions as well), steam looks like a surprisingly feasible lift gas with a few significant side-benefits. I assume ponies with their magic would have little trouble making it work even without full-on magitech, and once the magitech gets involved, who knows what they can achieve. I do admit that this is half an exploration of steam-lifted airships and airships in general.

This Journal is probably a relatively recent development for Trinket Toss, and I think she’s been working there for maybe a month now, but I didn’t really need to know exactly.

I admit that I ship Trinket Toss and Tow Line. If she feels confident in the privacy of her journal, a few months later (as she gets to know him better) his nickname might end up being “Tuggy” for short, “Tuggy Bear” long. No, I don’t know why that came to mind. Maybe because of Captain Woolly Bear (I think that’s who it was) from Cold in Gardez’s The Adventuring Type. There need to be more adorable male airship captain names floating around.

I don’t apologise for the company names. I had blue mana on the card and they sounded like the sort of punchy tech-company names you might find in Equestria to me so I went with it from there.

Any resemblance Boss (which isn’t actually his name) bears to a pointy-haired boss near you is intentionally coincidental.

Overwhelming [Comedy?]

This story could be viewed as a sequel of sorts to Swallow the Meek. It should still be reasonably independent.

Story time at the Griffonstone public-ish library had been rising in popularity over the last several months, with the number of attendees reaching as many as two dozen some nights. Renovations had proceeded to the extent that the roof now properly kept the rain out, even if the walls didn’t.

Grampa Gruff had organized the first adult-griffons-only night, because some stories just weren’t fit for the ears of children.

“Alright, everygriffon, grab your drinks and settle down. I don’t have all day.

“First thing’s first: I’m supposed to tell you that Griffon Gourmand provided tonight’s catering and wine, because if I say that, then he’ll give the library a discount.

“Tonight, I’m going to tell you the story of a dark moment in Griffonstone history. Kids these days expect happy endings everywhere, but too bad. Ahem...”

Once – a very, very, very long time ago – a nondescript unimportant griffon town made a big mistake and became important enough for me to tell a story about it. After the unfortunate fall of King Grover, most griffons started fighting over the scraps of our once-proud empire. This town stayed together on account of their successful mines.

They mined for all sorts of things, from gold to the very dirt itself, provided they could find a buyer. The griffons of this town knew they couldn’t work the mines if they fought with each other, so they didn’t. For a time, they were the wealthiest town in Griffonstone. Grover knows they had the best pub around; The Bull and Dragon is still around to this day and serves the finest ale I’ve ever had.

Anyway, they built a small railway to help get their minerals to a larger market. A larger market means more bits, you know. At the same time, they spread their mines farther out and dug them deeper. It's a bit of a miracle that they didn’t provoke a dragon or awaken some horrible demon as a result. One fateful day, however, they were confronted by ponies while prospecting in one of the nearby mountains.

These weren’t earth ponies and they weren’t quite pegasuses; they were the flying ponies of the night, with wings like bats. At the time, they were Luna’s favored ponies, before she became Nightmare Moon: Bat-ponies. They call themselves ‘chiroptera’ now, I think.

Well the griffons didn’t like that much, because the mountain had a lot of good minerals in it that they wanted. Just because the griffins of this town worked together didn’t mean they weren’t greedy like dragons. The chiroptera lived there, though, and they wouldn’t let the griffons have their way. It didn’t take long for a proper fight to break out as one side tried to drive the other away.

The griffons weren’t very organized about it, because none of them would agree on a leader for anything, even that. Somewhere among the name-calling and face-making, though, both sides reached a consensus: They’d take their fight to the pub, like civilized people, and trade their insults over a good round of drinking. This happened most days of the week, and went on for over a month. I hear the insults they traded were some of the most impressive that griffon ears had ever heard, and sensible as they tried to be, the griffons had them chiroptera over a barrel one night.

Records of their insults mostly don’t exist but for that last night. One of the griffons got ‘em good by calling the chiroptera “backwards, lazy, vampire-bat-wannabes whose ancestors had to hunt cows to have wings”.

That didn’t sit well with Luna, and I guess because she’s one of those pegasus-unicorns and a creature of the night herself, it didn’t take her but a moment to appear in the pub that night. In the height of their greed, the griffons of this town forgot that Luna would jealousy defend her ponies, and that the chiroptera were untouchable.

Luna was no fool when it came to such a fight, and I can only suppose that her infighting with her sister gave her such angst that her insults put everything that came before to shame. Insults that – while recorded – I will not be repeating in the company of such young ears. She broke the pride and spirit of every griffon in the tavern that night. As she left, she warned them that, if they so much as flew near that mountain or any other claimed by her ponies, she would insult them a second time.

With their pride shattered, the griffons turned on each other to stave off how they really felt and that town became as divided as any other.

The end. That’s it. No refunds.

Author's Note

RoboFoME card (ColTill edition):

Overwhelming
2RR
Creature Creature — Equipmental
Target land collectors: Until end of turn. At the beginning of your library. (Put a legendary and has don’t untapped creature.

Griffin Gourmand.

Pegasus Unicorn.

Flying

Tap another creatures gains indestroy each.

With the meeth.

ColTill (whose account is not active on Fimfiction, that I can tell) picked this card on account if I sort of promised that I would write something with batponies in it… over a year and a half ago. I still haven’t, so here are some batponies. It still didn’t turn out to focus on them a lot, but at least they’re there.

The nondescript town is actually (very) loosely based on an actual town called Meeth. The Bull and Dragon is an actual pub there. The facts I used start dwindling at that point, aside from the presence of clay mines up until 2004 (Wikipedia tells me).

I almost had Gourmand (the griffon one, because the card says so) telling this story, in the context of all griffons being storytellers at heart, though things settled in a little easier this way. I still think griffons are probably suckers for a good story, whether they’re telling it or not.

Dust Burglassical [Comedy]

“I’m pretty sure the second window up is the storeroom,” a voice in the Canterlot Gardens whispered.

“‘Pretty sure’? What if it’s the Royal Guard lounge?” asked a second pony.

“Okay, okay, I am sure. Now help me with the rope.”

In dark of night, the two ponies fussed with the length of rope they had brought, untangling it for use.

“I don’t think this is going to work” the second pony remarked. “How will they not see this coming?”

“Because it’s a good burglary. I have a whole book on the science behind this sort of thing. The ponies getting stolen from never catch the burglars if it’s a good burglary and—“

“But we’re stealing Princess Luna’s freakin’ diary.”

“It’s not her diary; it’s the book she stores all her dark magical secrets in; it’s our key to the Dreamscape, Tartarus, and any other form of dark magic Luna knows of! Rumor has it she even knows how to raise the dead.”

“I know all that; that’s why I agreed to help you get it.”

“I’m explaining it as part of the burglary. The book explained that this is the second best time for the mastermind to explain what we’re stealing, with the best time being right after we’ve stolen it. We’ll take ‘now’ on account of you jumping into the topic so soon.

"Anyway, it’s because this book is so significant that we won’t be caught; If we were stealing apples from a market stall, there would be no reason to expect not to get caught.”

“That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard.”

“It is a bit cliché, perhaps, but that’s how these things work. It’s like the opening of a book; the ‘bad guys’ – that’s us – have to succeed for the story to go anywhere.”

“You make it sound like our lives are just part of a stupid story.”

“Would that be so bad?”

The second pony sighed. “Okay, Mr. Muscle. Are you going to throw the grapple or not?”

“Alright. Stand back; I’m going to hook the roof.”

The first pony took up the rope and grapple in his hooves and started to swing it in a circle. He let it go and the grapple soard up into the air. The sound of shattering glass broke the peace of the night in response.

“That changes the plan some; let’s make it quick. You’re up, Ledge Tiger.”

“That’s not my name.”

“But we’re burglars, so we’re using fake names. The book I read even had a system for making them up.”

“‘Ledge Tiger’ is really lame.”

“I couldn’t just call you ‘cat burglar’. Now get up there.”

The second pony sighed again. “Fine.”

A minute later, the second pony made her way back down the rope as she held a small book in her mouth.

“Besides,” said the first pony, “my fake name is Sturdy Snowfall.”

The second pony spat the book out and caught it with a hoof. “But your normal name is Snowf—”

“Not here!”

“Ugh.”

“Well? Get in the carriage. I can already hear the guards moving, so we’re going to have to hurry.”

“Fillydelphia has put together two more bands. They’ll be moving to contain the parasprites in the northeastern fields tomorrow morning.” The captain’s words echoed across the room for a moment as he gestured towards a map on war room table. Nopony else spoke while they waited for Luna’s response.

“How do the eastern fields fare?”

“Not good.” Another captain unrolled a scroll and started reporting its contents. “With recent developments, they’re projected to lose almost half their crop before the outbreak is over. Even our imports are suffering; a train with seasonings for exotic cuisine was attacked en route from Fillydelphia’s ports to Canterlot this morning. The Chef’s Guild is holding a memorial for the lost Saffron tomorrow and Fillydelphia has redoubled their efforts to find musicians to spare.

“Towards the south, limited railway access is proving to be a limitation in our containment and relief efforts, especially with regard to supplying our ponies. Shipping companies have stopped sending shipments of food into the highest-risk zones.”

Several of the ponies around the table shifted uneasily. “That’s unacceptable!” one of them called out. “Have you heard back from Ponyville?”

Luna shot him a soft glare to put him back in his seat, then nodded. “Mayor Mare has determined that the Pink One’s abilities are more effective directed towards baking for our relief efforts than as one additional band. For the moment, I am inclined to ag—”

The doors to the room cracked open a the head of a guard poked in. He made his way to Luna’s seat and leaned into her ear.

“Princess, something… urgent has come up. Somepony broke into a storeroom on the north wing and escaped through the castle grounds. Your personal storeroom. Two patrols are currently in pursuit.”

“You may call them off,” Luna whispered back. She gave the guard a little smile. “I have the situation under control.”

“Yes, Princess.” The guard bowed and left and closed the door with a soft ‘thump’ behind him.

The room sat in silence for a moment.

“I have a slight revision of my position. Captain Glass, have word sent out to Prince Rutherford of Yakyakistan that I request his assistance on behalf of the Pink One. Arrange for special transportation to Ponyville should he accept. I will contact the Pink One personally.

“Captain Spearhead, I want you to spearhead the relief effort, but start redirecting the refused shipments to Ponyville …”

“Isn’t this awesome?” called the first pony “I paid an alchemist quite a bit for the engine; you know it harnesses the power of tiny explosions?”

The two ponies sat side-by-side in their small carriage; a poorly-integrated engine took up the rear half. While the first pony stayed relaxed as he drove, the second pony had braced herself with all four hooves.

The makeshift ‘horseless’ carriage had little trouble zipping down the streets of Canterlot as they raced down the north side of the mountain. In little time, they had left the urban regions of the city and their surroundings gradually levelled out and shifted towards the agricultural backbone of the region.

“WATCH OUT FOR THAT HAYCART!”

The warning came too late; both ponies and their carriage hurdled into a parked wagon as the steel-banded wheels failed to get enough traction on the cobblestone road. Wagon parts and hay flew everywhere.

“Don’t lose the book!” cried the first pony. “Follow me.”

“I thought you said we wouldn’t get caught, but it looks like you were wrong.”

“Don’t rub it in; we haven’t been caught yet.”

Behind them, the remaining pile of hay and carriage pieces burst into flame.

“See? We pulled it off. I told you we couldn’t fail.”

“Running down the streets of Canterlot with the Royal Guard charging up my ass isn’t what I would call ‘not failing’,” the second pony shot back. “Are we even sure the Guard won’t find us by morning here?” She gestured to the walls of the barn they had taken refuge in.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure we lost them ages ago. With a book this important, we’re starting an arc that’ll take months to resolve at least. This is Epic-level material, you know.”

“It had better be. Speaking of, why don’t you open it?”

“I don’t know… that’s the sort of reckless impatience the book I read warned me about.”

“But you already have a master plan, right?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Pretty— okay, nevermind. I’m not going there again.” The second pony took a breath. “If you have a plan, then taking a peek won’t hurt, will it? You’re just… inspecting it? Making sure it’s up to snuff?”

The first pony considered the idea. “That is a nicer way to put it. All right, then, let’s take a look.”

“What’s the w—”

“NO!” The first pony jammed a hoof in the other’s mouth. “Do not utter That Question. Now it’s not safe to look at it!”

“What?! Seriously? This is so stupid. Can’t you get it in your head that it doesn’t matter what we say or do or think at the moment? Our lives aren’t part of some weird pseudo-reality where superstition changes the fact that we have this book and it’s either what we’re looking for or it isn’t.”

The two glared at each other in silence for a minute.

“Fine. If only because you introduced enough dramatic tension that—”

“Again: No. Just stuff it with announcing how things will or won’t go because of whatever stupid religion it is you follow. Wouldn’t you doing that make it worse anyway?”

“You know, I think you’re starting to catch on and you have a good point.”

“JUST OPEN THE CELESTIA-DAMNED BOOK!”

“Fine. Let me just…” The first pony blew dust off the cover and cracked the book open.

“Damn.”

The second pony facepalmed. “Don’t tell me.”

“It’s blank.”

“Did you open it to the first page?”

“No, but why would that—”

“Just. Do. It.”

“Oh, look!” The first pony said. “Oh. Oh no…”

You can’t stay awake forever.
–Princess Luna

Author's Note

RoboFoME card (FoME edition):

Dust Burglassical 2WW
Land — Insect Bearer
For each opponent's control counters were mana pool. Activated or not something with fire. Haycrash clear when that card.
Ledge Tiger counters on the number of card from one another graveyard to a player may put a verse counters the top card of turn. (Whenever Sturdy Snowfall face up only to a play an X.
"You have a things too more like you ain’t just differed bad. You don’t technologize? Who's will in awesome."
—Marion Masalaxies?"
—Princess Luna’s just?"

Combat Bakery Wreckerellac / Draconic Griffin / Swing Family Feuding [Random-ish, Comedy]

Applejack reclined on the bedroom sofa and sighed. Pinkie Pie still paced the castle floor furiously.

“I still can’t believe it,” Pinkie said. “That griffon judge just wanted ponies to lose the dessert contest. Why would they let a judge be so mean when he judged the Cake’s entry?”

“Pinkie, maybe he just don’t see desserts the same way. To some ponies, most of what you bake probably is sweeter than they like.”

“I still don’t like it.”

“There’s not much you can do at this point.”

“Hmm… Maybe there is.” Pinkie punched one forehoof into another. “I’m going to give him a piece of my pie.”

Applejack jumped up. “What? You mean ‘piece of your mind?’”

“No. I mean I’m going to bake a pie and give him a piece.”

Applejack relaxed. “Oh, okay. I don’t think that’ll help any, but if it makes you feel better, go for it.”

Applejack kept her head down and pulled the pie wagon. Winning this fight was important to Pinkie, and while that was good enough for her to help out, she found the entire situation absurd and, somehow unsurprisingly, out-of-control. Then again, that sort of thing happened more often around Pinkie. When she asked, Celestia said that it would be safest to let the situation play itself out, so here she was, delivering pies to the battlezone of the largest food fight she had ever heard of just a little east of Canterlot.

When she reached the front lines, one of the commanders thanked her for the delivery.

“The pies are far more effective than the toast we get from those two hooligans and their bulk toasting contraption, no matter which side we apply the butter to,” he said.

“Knowin’ them, you won’t see much improvement unless you butter both sides.”

“Maybe we will.” His frown became apparent after that. “I have other news: please inform the bakers that there have been dragon sightings when you return.”

“Are you expectin’ trouble?” Applejack asked while she untethered herself from the wagon.

“We’re not sure yet if they’re siding with the griffons or just scavenging, but I imagine the bakers will have to adjust their recipes if we’re going to appeal to them.”

“Alright, then. The next batch is due in about forty minutes. You might wanna send somepony else along if somethin’ happens before then.”

Applejack hooked up to an empty wagon and started back for the combat bakery.

When Applejack got back to the bakery, she wisely kept her mouth sealed regarding the Flim and Flam brothers when she informed Pinkie of her conversation with the commander.

Not long after, one of the Royal Guard’s scouts arrived with further news. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else when he delivered it. “Miss Pie, the, uh, dragons are setting up a scone furnace in the eastern foal Mountain foothills.”

“Whaaat?! The dragons and griffons are teaming up?”

“It appears that way, yes.”

Pinkie’s mane delated just a hair. “I’m going to have to find a gem dust supplier if these pies are gonna work… Maybe cupcakes! Dragons think small desserts are adorable, don’t they?

“Who am I kidding? The dragons are being meany-pants and I can’t even bake that much.”

“You’re dismissed, I guess.” Applejack nodded towards the scout. She turned her attention back to Pinkie. “Would an inspirational song help?”

“An inspirational song always helps! I just don’t know if it would help enough. If Rarity here? We had a great inspirational song for helping those ponies at the Tasty Treat.”

“Rarity’s out at the front lines,” Applejack said. “I think she’s scoutin’ out some ‘handsome warriors’ to model some o’ her clothes.”

“Well… okay. Maybe we can figure out another way to bake more pies.”

“Pinkie, maybe you’re thinkin’ about it wrong; instead of tryin’ to prove to them that pony desserts are the best, why don’t you bake somethin’ suited for a griffon? Isn’t it just as good to show that ponies can bake for anybody?”

Pinkie touched a hoof to her chin. “You know, you might be on to something Applejack! But what would knock the socks off a griffon? Not that griffons have socks, but if they did we’ve gotta make something that would knock them—

“I’ve got it! Applejack! You’re a farmer; find some bacon! I want everypony else to scootch their ovens back – I need space to work here!”

“Do I even wanna know…?”

“I’m going to bake that griffon judge the fabled bacon soufflé. A tasty, hearty griffon dessert so legendarily tasty to a griffon’s tongue that King Guto’s mother baked one that successfully retrieved him from hiding in a closet after the Idol of Boreas got stolen.”

The shadows on Pinkie’s face grew especially dark for a moment and her tone grew serious. “I’m going to have to pull out all the reservse to make it right.”

Applejack gulped.

Applejack couldn’t decide what she found more disturbing: that the weather within a few dozen meters of Pinkie’s oven had turned to red-tinted thunderclouds complete with lightning, or that Pinkie seemed perfectly at home in it. Some time ago, the other bakers had found it wise to flee the area completely.

Applejack made a mental note to never again let Pinkie near her oven; the risk wasn’t worth it.

“Ní féidir go mbeadh soufflé i bhfad ar oideas milseog traidisiúnta na hÉireann ach toisc go ndéantar an ceann seo le Bailey, is dóigh linn go mbeidh buaiteoir againn,” Pinkie chanted. “Chun grá Grogar agus gach rud atá neamhghnácha, ardú!”

Applejack watched in abject horror as the oven’s contents turned into a vacuum for nearby life energies. The grass shriveled and smoldered. The wind started gusting. She couldn’t be sure if she just heard the wind or if it was a chorus of disembodied, demonic laughter.

“It’s… arise!” Pinkie started to laugh maniacally.

At that point, Applejack settled on a vow to pretend that never happened and especially to never mention it to Twilight. Chances were that Pinkie would return to ‘normal’ at some point. Maybe none of the princesses would see fit to exile her for what she did.

The rest of the bakers raised banners and formed a procession around the completed soufflé. Nearby pegasus guards set up a no-fly-zone around it. Some ponies swore that Princess Celestia pointed a few more of the sun’s rays at the whole thing. Tiny little flowers blossomed in their wake.

Never before had anypony witnessed a dessert so perfect.

As the procession approached the ranks of griffons and dragons, the enemy took in the exacting amount of fluff and a whiff of bacony goodness. With but a fleeting glance at their own scones and biscuits and toasts, they tossed aside their own efforts which were naught but blasphemy to compare to such heavenly goodness.

Pinkie cleared her throat. “Griffons! Dragons! Behold!” She paused for a moment. “There is a grinch among you who dared doubt the baking of me and mine! I challenge you to take upon yourself even one bite of this, the most scrumptious of baked goods, and keep to your sour mood!”

From their ranks one griffon stepped forward. The griffon judge. “I will not apologize for the judgement I have passed on you,” he said. “I still doubt that your offering is worthy. However, I will not deny that you have played your hand well; I have heard of this dessert and its nigh-unbelievable taste. You present me with a good opportunity to see if those claims are worth their salt.”

Some of the bakers brought forth a folding table and set it up with a tablecloth. Pinkie Pie cut a healthy slice of the souffle and served it on a plate. The griffon took his spoon and scooped out a bite.

The entire gathering held its breath.

The griffon hadn’t even swallowed before tears started to stream down his face. He took a second bite.

Everybody sighed. Ponies started to cheer. Some of the griffons did too. Before long, both sides in their entirety started celebrating the end of the food fight with more baking.

Throughout eating his portion of the soufflé, the griffon judge remained speechless as he cried. Even Pinkie couldn’t get a word out of him. After he finished, he had but one thing to say:

“I will never see food the same.”

Author's Note

RoboFoME Cards (Bugsydor edition):

Swing Family Feuding
1
Legendary — Equipmental
Reach, transform Arcane can't cause you control the most.

"It's a team up, we willing warrioritized models.’"
—Applejack, I think of Equestria would reachable."
—Pinkie Pie, Bearer of Magic out!"

Draconic Griffin
RR
Creature — Song
Discard from your library.

Beauty of the chosen type. Regenerated unity counter on Fabled Reservant. She half their graveyard, regenerates are dealth.

"You’ve don't the pastry, Royal Guard, immigration make me complex beyond.

RoboFoME card (PresentPerfect edition):

Combat Bakery Wreckerellac
2G
Sorcery
Copy target creatures don't on it.

Muses a token without flying

Rock faceful Blossoms gather creature

Whenever the Closet it.)

Return it fights and calls half the other that player the next end of the battlefield, it gain exile two card.

Pinkie to their owner’s hand.

It’s Gonna Work, exile target combat if able.

-2: Destroy all cards from black

"Rule One: Always make any risky."
—Princess

There you have it. The first multi-card entry. I sent requests to Bugsydor and PresentPerfect at about the same time (I sort of expected PP to take a little longer getting back to me). Bugsy pulled up a couple, and while he was able to narrow his choice down to a single card, I agreed that the two he sent worked rather well together.

Then PresentPerfect sent me his short list. The one he singled out fit the plans I had really well (like, really well), so I used it for this entry as well. I might write another one or two from that list, though, ‘cause at least one uses the word ‘airship’ and also because this entry is somewhat more than half based on Bugsy’s cards.

My thanks to Admiral Biscuit for helping me to assemble the paragraph of ~~garlic~~ gaelic for Pinkie’s ‘necromancy’. Pinkie Pie makes no apologies for what she did and neither will I.

Megavitaminational Guard Airship [Mini-drama]

“Report.”

“He hasn’t blinked yet.”

“I am still not asking about your staring contest,” her captain replied flatly.

“Fine,” Scootaloo said, though she didn’t take her binoculars down. “Same old stuff: One minotaur airship, about thirty or forty kilometers out; it’s big, they're armed, and their lookout hasn’t blinked yet.”

“What happened to every other nut and bolt that held their ship together? Two months ago, airships were the coolest thing ever and you’d talk my ears off with how their ships appeared to work.”

“How their ship works hasn’t changed. Nothing has. We’re just having a staring contest with the minotaur border guard while the diplomats ruffle feathers and smooth things over again and again and again. You can’t blame me for noticing how boring it is. If anything actually changed, I'd be happy to let you know.”

Her captain sighed. “Okay. I’ll bite.” He hesitated, possibly considering the wisdom of his next question. “... Why are you having a staring contest with their lookout?”

Scootaloo gave a small shrug. “Dunno. Three weeks ago, I wondered what their lookout thought about us, so I watched him for a while. He noticed a couple of days later—”

“And you can actually see each other that well?”

“Well, yeah; these binoculars aren’t crap. He’s probably wondering what we’re talking about right now. That, or how I can go this long without blinking.”

“And he may never know, but if I might ask how…?”

“I grew up watching Rainbow Dash’s flying from the ground,” Scootaloo said, making no effort to hide the bitterness in her voice. “She was everything I wanted to be and I didn’t want to miss any of it. You have no idea how familiar I am with looking at things from far away.”

“Without blinking? That sounds a little obsessive.”

Scootaloo fought off a blush as best she could. “Says the earth pony who has a collection of airship models in his cabin on the airship he pilots.”

Her captain replied with a stern voice. “If I didn’t know anything about what’s going on in your life, I’d chew you out for that remark. When you’re off-duty, I strongly recommend you rethink what you just said. Maybe you’ll notice something that you missed the first time.”

Scootaloo grunted.

“Try again.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Better.” Her captain turned to leave. “Additionally, I don't like to hear that you've been skipping meals while the medic says you're fine. You, of all ponies on this airship, should not short yourself on nutrition.”

“Yes, sir.”

Scootaloo heard her captain leave, and the next few moments passed without excitement.

Then the lookout blinked.

She afforded herself a small smirk. Still can't keep it up for more than a couple minutes.

The lookout just stared at the metal plates above his bunk. It would be a while before he got any sleep. It was the same every time they passed that pony airship. When he looked into the eyes of madness.

It put the whole crew at unease whenever the pony airship was in sight. Some of them swore that even in the depths of the engine rooms, they could feel the lookout’s penetrating gaze.

Author's Note

RoboFoME card ([belated] PresentPerfect “proper” edition):

Megavitaminational Guard Airship
3WU
Enchantment — Song
T: You may draw a card in they crowns.

Madness are lucky. Such as though the number of creature with power, that somewhere X is to." If you.

"It amazing as bad ideas cool as it is."
—Scoots.

I tossed one of PP's other cards in the last entry, but that accounted for only 1/3 of that entry's prompt, so I figured I'd write something a little more from PP's original selection of cards. I'm not sure if this counts?

I tried about 3 times to write something flat-out serious for this one, because that's kind of what came to mind. That didn't work, so I asked myself what I could do to make the premise less serious, and now it seems half-serious and half-whatever-this-is-staring-back.

Scootaloo is a little older and unhappy that she still can't fly, at least not for long. I'm thinking there's physical therapy out there that might help her, but she's mostly given up on flying on her own. Her captain knows about all of this and is hoping to find a way to keep her trying, because he doesn't even have the option. If any other detail isn't here, I probably didn't try to think it up.

Blatant Mailpony Diplomat [Slice of Life]

Derpy sneezed violently. She liked how pretty the everfree forest was when everything was in bloom, but those were pictures, and pictures didn’t produce pollen. These were real flowers – they were quite pretty – and she had real allergies, and had once again forgotten to take anything for them.

She had only made it a few steps before she felt the urge to sneeze again.

“Ah… Ah…”

She waited for it to come, but it didn’t. After a few more seconds passed, the urge finally died down.

I hate it when that happens.

She tried to shake away the last remnants of the not-sneeze, and picked up her pace. She would have flown, but the treetops looked all the same from above, and she couldn’t make out the trail. She had a hard enough time following the trail as it was: it got so little use that it was little more than a subtle lack of underbrush, stones, and streams. Coupled with her difficulty with depth perception, she had already found herself nearly walking into brambles once.

None of that was going to stop her, though. She had one small, paper-wrapped parcel that clearly stated that it was for Zecora, the zebra that lived in these woods, and she had no intention of doing anything less than her job. These trips made great stories to tell Dinky anyways.

It was only a couple of minutes before she could make out an oddly decorated tree hut. She smiled. Giving ponies things always made her happy, because it usually made other ponies happy.

She had the best job ever.

But Zecora’s not a pony. Derpy Blinked. Don’t think like that. She acts a lot like one. Satisfied and still smiling, Derpy knocked on the door, parcel at the ready.

She sniffled, feeling another sneeze coming. Please don’t sneeze. She closed her eyes and concentrated on not sneezing.

The door opened, and Derpy could feel her nose burning. Zecora watched for a moment before raising a quizzical eyebrow. Derpy felt a rush of embarrassment when she realized that she wasn’t smiling anymore – her face was just downright scrunched instead.

It was all she could do to aim sideways before she sneezed again anyway.

“Sorry.” Hoping to salvage whatever was left of her dignity and her job, Derpy proffered the parcel. “I... uh, have some mail for you.”

“It is unfortunate that you should come all this way to make up for something another did say.”

Derpy scrunched her face – in confusion this time – as she tried to wrap her mind around Zecora’s words. “I’m not sure that I understand.”

Zecora sighed. “How about you come in for a spell while I will fix up something to make you well.” She held to door open and gestured inside.

Derpy shrugged and stepped in. The room wasn’t large, and much of it was either covered in foreign artifacts or potion ingredients. She found a clear spot on one of the smaller tables to set the parcel. “So... I delivered this because somepony else said... something?”

Zecora, already at work gathering supplies for her task, chuckled. “For some needs, I must go into town, yet this time – once – it is you who’ve come down?” She started mashing something into a thick cup.

Derpy nodded. “This is the first time that I have delivered mail to somepony living inside the Everfree. Is it something that couldn’t wait for your next trip to Ponyville?” But it’s not even that far… “Or is it something that you didn’t know to pick up?”

Zecora smiled, and mixed something else into the cup. “Close.”

When she didn’t elaborate, Derpy kept thinking about what Zecora had said so far. “An apology?”

Zecora nodded very slightly.

“From who— whom?” Derpy rubbed her nose. It was still a bit itchy.

“From the Princess of Friendship one day ago, I was accused of practices from quite long ago, as though my people had not long since said ‘no’. I know she had no poor intentions, but her words were naught but false contention.”

“Princess Twilight?” Derpy blinked in surprise. “But… how could she not know? I mean, I haven’t met any zebras besides you, myself, and I don’t remember reading much of anything about you, but Twilight is a Princess!”

“Indeed she is, but my people are reclusive, so information on us can be quite elusive.”

“Does that mean you forgive her?”

By now Zecora had poured her mixture into another cup. She set that cup on a small metal apparatus and lit a small flame under it. “Perhaps.”

They sat in silence for several minutes while the Zecora’s brew heated up. Derpy glanced around at some of the masks (she was pretty sure that’s what they were) that decorated the room. They definitely wouldn’t be her first choice, but they were in somepony else’s house, so she tried to appreciate the level of detail that went into carving and painting the expression of each mask.

Eventually her exploring gaze landed on the parcel that she set down earlier. “Aren’t you going to open it?” Zecora turned to her, and she nodded towards the little brown paper lump on the table. “If Princess Twilight is willing to at least try, I don’t think you should ignore her apology. I mean, sometimes ponies get angry at me if something goes wrong with their mail, even when it isn’t my fault. I guess you could say I have experience with both sides. In the end, I still have to do my job, and the other ponies need me to do it, so there’s no reason to stay upset with each other.”

After she spoke, Derpy realized that Princess Twilight probably already knew that. “I think I see why Princess Twilight sent it by mail after all.”

Again, Zecora smiled. “The words that you speak are quite true; Twilight was correct to send you.” She also lifted the cup up off its heater and offered it to Derpy. “A few days’ time this brew will last, so hurry not for home too fast.”

Derpy took a sip. For what she presumed to be either a magical potion or some sort of medicine, it wasn’t very bitter. “This lasts days?” Spring would be much nicer if I didn’t have to remember to take something every day.

Zecora nodded. That was enough for Derpy to quaff the rest of her magic potion. She was pretty sure it was magic if it lasted that long. By the time she had finished, Zecora had already unbound her parcel. The bulk of its contents appeared to be an assortment of herbs in either whole or powdered form as far as Derpy could tell. What stood out was Pinkie Pie’s standard-issue, brightly-colored “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” card, which also elicited a raised eyebrow from Zecora.

“Is it your birthday today?”

Derpy could have sworn it looked like Zecora blushed, and her response was unusually quiet. “It seems so.”

If Zecora was as reclusive as she suggested zebras tended to be, Derpy could reason that she wouldn’t want a party, but it still deserved some form of recognition. In her experience, even grumpy ponies liked being wished a happy birthday. “There’s an old pony tradition for pony birthdays,” she said. “It came from around the time of Chancellor Puddinghead, maybe a little earlier. Even though it started as an earth pony tradition, after Hearth’s Warming Eve, it spread across all of Equestria. Every year for my birthday, my parents would sing me this song, and I sing it for my little Dinky for her birthday.”

The cautiously amused expression that Zecora wore was definitely worthwhile.

“And I’m going to sing it for you.”

“Oh?” Now Zecora’s expression was more cautious than amused.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll like it; it has a great message, and it even rhymes.” Derpy Smiled, and cleared her throat. With Pinkie Pie in town, she had attended countless birthday parties, and as the friendly town mailpony, she’d been invited to a few more besides. Before long, she ended up leading the rest of the group in song more often than not. It was one of her favorite parts of the party.

“Happy birthday to you…”

Author's Note

The card as copy/pasted from RoboFoME:

Blatant Mailpony Diplomat
4GGGUUUUUUUUUU
Legendary Creature — Song

Activate as it to that creature.

Whenever a creatures

"To excess. Elegance. I wouldn't know which friends.
Do not get how of decora, zebra shadow often piece of this
4/4

Sneezing System [Slice of Loaf] [Georg's "The One Who Got Away"]

SPOILER WARNING

This is meant to be a side-story to Georg’s The One Who Got Away, taking place around the middle of chapter 7 (the last chapter). If you have not read that (yet) and do not mind spoilers, here is the minimal context summary:

Baron Gaberdine has spent about a week in the castle – a smallish, run-down steamship – of his Barony of Fen – a river. Sen is the old seneschal who lived there since the old Baron ruled, and Ripple is an enthusiastic young unicorn/seapony of about nine years of age who lives in the river with her family, and hopes to be an engineer one day. After being gifted a new toolkit for earning her cutie mark, “Sen poked his nose into the bedroom and stated that the toaster had ceased to toast and wondered if perhaps there was anypony in the vicinity who could repair it.”

“Breakfast was a disaster. Sen was sound asleep, and Gaberdine really did not want to disturb him, but after burning several pieces of toast, nearly chopping a hoof off while slicing a grapefruit and managing to squirt both of them in the eyes with grapefruit juice, he somehow reduced an entire pot of boiling oatmeal to a gluey substance that claimed three serving spoons before he gave it up as a lost cause and dropped the whole mess into the sink.”

--Georg, The One Who Got Away

Ripple considered the broken toaster on the counter before her. It looked mostly fine on the outside – aside from a collection of dents, scratches, and smudges of burnt toast – but Sen reported that it had finally ceased to toast entirely, so it must have broken on the inside. A good enough place to start for any engineer, aside from one problem. “There aren’t any bolts or screws. How am I supposed to open it up?”

She pulled the largest screwdriver out from her brand-new toolkit, figuring that the long metal rod coming to a flat tip would give her the leverage she’d need to pry it open, if only she could get it lodged in between the plates of thin metal casing. Maybe someday, when she had a lot of practice being an engineer, her magic would be sufficient to disassemble anything she wanted without needing tools.

Sen grunted, then he walked across the galley and unplugged the toaster. “I think the ponies that make ‘em figure you’ll have to purchase a new—”

There was a loud crack as something gave way. “Better. Wow,” Ripple remarked. The inside was nearly completely black with soot, in stark contrast with the definitely-used-to-be-shiny casing.

“Sen, have you ever cleaned this out?” she asked, casting him an inquisitive glance. His expression told her he was more than a little worried about what she had done. Even if the cover didn’t snap back on, it would at least make the toaster easier to clean out in the future. Given how often Mister Baron Gaberdine incinerated slices of bread, and her suspicion that he had completely forgotten to remove one of the most recent ones, she figured that easily-removed casing was an improvement.

“I’ve given it a fair up-ending once or twice. Last time’d be about a month ago. This one’s only a couple of years old.”

Ripple started to poke around the ash pile of an unfortunate piece of toast with her screwdriver. It hit something hard and fork-shaped a moment later. “I think I found—”

Dislodging the fork freed the spring, which happily returned the toast-holding-bar to its raised position, sending burnt crisps and former-toast-ash flying at her. Her snout responded with a sensation not unlike the one that followed inhaling a minnow.

She sneezed. Several times.

When the gritty black powder settled and her eyes stopped watering, she heard Sen mention something about a broom and towel before he walked off. She couldn’t help but notice that his coat now resembled a burnt orange, and wondered how Mister Baron Gaberdine had managed not to burn any oranges yet.

Ripple turned her attention back to the toaster. When she picked it up with her magic, more toast-ash found its way to freedom. This was clearly an invitation to shake all the toast-ash from the toaster, and Ripple happily complied. A couple of metal tabs, a bread knife, and enough ash to make up at least one whole loaf of bread came tumbling out. She found herself wondering just how often Mister Baron Gaberdine tried to make toast.

She checked to make sure that the spring was properly freed, then inspected the piece of casing she had removed. By the look of it (and the metal bits in the pile of toast-ash), she had snapped off a couple of the metal tabs that held it next to the rest of the casing. Still, it slid back on nicely, even if it was a little loose.

Satisfied, Ripple replaced the power cable in its socket and dug around the galley until she found some bread. Sure, the insides of the toaster glowed like they were supposed to, but how else could she know if it would toast properly again?

Sen made his way back in just in time for the toast to pop – perfectly done. Ripple watched him take in the scene, and took a moment to appreciate how much toast-ash she had blown around. She also noted that she hadn’t remembered to use more tools from her new toolkit. Maybe for another project.

Finally, Sen let out a sigh. “Alright, that settles it. If’n I’m not makin’ toast, we leave the toaster unplugged. Now le’s get this cleaned up ‘fore the Baron stops starin’ at the river.”

Author's Note

RoboFoME card:

Sneezing System

Legendary — Pony
Flying together. If your controller color of a spell or activated ability until end of turn target land can't loses deals 5 damage to the magic doesn't untap step. If your mana cost equal to." If turn

Adorable finally begging some on, she’ll make constructionism is a few more.