Siege of Helm's Pinkby Amethyst_DawnChaptersThe Siege BeginsAn Unexpected SetbackThe Last Head HighBONUS: The Council of PinkiesThe Siege BeginsThe pink hoof wrapped roughly around the once undisturbed package of Cherrychangas, and lifted it up to be scrutinized carefully by two light blue eyes. It was tilted one way, and then the other, before it was finally tossed into the shopping cart with an unceremonious clang. Pinkie Pie sighed in content as she looked down the large, cold aisle of the warehouse-turned-supermarket known as Costcolt, leering at the single row of packaged foods inspired by delicacies from Mexicolt, which- oddly enough -was right above the ice cream. Odd choice of sorting, to say the least. Her thoughts were paused, however, when she laid eyes on the Draconequus at the other end of the shelfs, perusing the organic birdseed with clear disinterest. Curiously, she pushed her cart over to his, and beamed up at him. “HI ‘Cord!” She chirped. He winced slightly at the sudden sound, and looked down at her with an unamused glare. “Oh, good afternoon, I suppose.” He shrugged, switching his gaze back to the shelf. “I don’t think you would know if they have any bird food with arsenic as an ingredient, would you?” Pinkie scrunched up her nose with a small grimace. “Fluttershy ask you to do the shopping again, huh?” She asked, receiving little more than a curt nod from the former god of chaos as his ears drooped. “Oh, yes, Ponk. And she even specifically requested that I go to this detestable place: only the most organized warehouse in Equestria. And she made me promise not to use my magic to shop, too…” he smirked down at Pinkie. “And I think we can agree that it’s far more entertaining that way.” Pinkie snorted a laugh at the reminder of the last time she encountered him while shopping, that time he was in the farmer’s market. “They still haven’t forgiven you for turning their fruit into a giant salad squid, you know.” Discord waved carelessly with his talon. “Please, it’s not as if anypony actually got hurt.” She squinted. “It almost ate Angel.” She scolded, albeit lightly. The draconequus grinned devilishly. “Pinkie, in all honestly, would that have really been a loss?” He chided, voice oozing with smug spite. Pinkie opened her mouth to object, but paused for a beat before shutting it just as quickly. He did make a good point. “Fine,” she huffed in feigned irritation, “I’m heading off to the back for some fish for Gummy, I’ll see you later!” With that, she pushed her cart down the aisle while he waved her off, and marched through the store. She made a couple more stops on the way to look at some cute summer jackets and whatnot, and eventually made her way to the back: where the more ‘uncouth’ foods were kept, as well as numerous empty crates and boxes of all sizes. She walked into the ‘Carnivore’ aisle, and reached for a package of fish. “Hey, care to hand me one of those, kid?” She looked over her shoulder at a middle-aged griffin giving her a plastic, yet polite smile standing just off to her left. Grinning, she obliged. “Thanks,” the griffin muttered with a nod, walking off with a slightly more sincere smile. Pinkie watched him leave the aisle before absently grabbing a few more bags of tripe. She looked down into her cart to momentarily take stock of what she had so far: three fish, a box of cherrychangas, a couple dozen Hungry Colt dinners, a package of bagels, and ingredients for lasagnas, quesadillas, spaghetti, muffins, as well as an extra gallon of milk. “You know, those same boxes have been sitting there for over three months now.” She jumped slightly as Discord’s cart parked in front of hers, and he gestured at a number of ridiculously immense pile of giant cardboard containers with a lazy thumb, which was currently napping on a thumb-sized bed. “You’d think they would find a use for them by now.” He continued, oblivious to her curious stare. She gave him an intrigued grin. “What did you have in mind?” Discord’s cheeks folded back as a toothy smirk overtook his face, and he raised his paw: summoning a small parchment. He reached up his claw to pluck off his deer antler, and used it as a pen while he jotted down a few lines, before flinging it into thin air with a flick of his wrist. “What was that?” Pinkie inquired as the parchment grew wings and a horn, and teleported out of sight. Discord chuckled darkly as he screwed his horn back on. “Oh… you’ll see…” He looked over to her. “Now… as for what we should do…” -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Pinkus Pielate stood on the top of the immense wall that stretched along the wagon lot outside the store, observing as the peasants stood about at the gate, each asking for passage to the inside. She adjusted her golden robe carefully, and observed as her guard- Spartacord -granted the wishes of all. One particular brown stallion, however, was being a bit of a bother to him… “Sir, I have to insist that you remove your fortifications from this area, and at least move it outside of my lot.” He said, disinterest clear in his voice as he eyed the cardboard palace within the walls. Pinkus furrowed her brow. Oh, how high and mighty he must have thought himself! What with his black shirt fresh from the drycleaners, and his nametag that read ‘Notasapientreptillian’, and his green jacket with yellow trimming, and his chest hair. Well, if he thought they’d leave their kingdom on the whim of a meager landowner, him and his hairdo had another think coming! As if reading his commander’s thoughts, Spartacord raised a rubber chicken, and held it menacingly at the stallion’s throat: “Listen, Apu,” He offered, as the clerk held up his forehooves with a nervous gulp, “I know we both want a peaceful resolution here, with as little bloodshed as possible. We’re not holding up your costumers, are we?” His eye twinkled slightly when the stallion shook his head. “See? So then there’s no problem.” Spartacord lowered his weapon, allowing the breath to escape from the other’s throat. “Now, I trust we won’t have any more problems from your ponies?” Mr. Notasapientreptillian lifted his head, and narrowed his eyes menacingly. “That depends entirely on you, Discord.” He shot, before turning on his heel to disappear back into his palace of shelves. Spartacord snorted indignantly, and pulled a lever to close the gate, lowering the portcullis with a loud clang. A surprising feat, considering that the bars were made of cardstock. Ignoring the protests of those still trapped outside the wall, he ascended the stairs to meet Pinkus on the walk. “Mayor Pielate,” he addressed, kneeling in front of her with a sober expression. “I fear that Lord Notasapientreptillian might pose a threat to us, and that he may be gathering his forces. What action do we take?” Pielate raised her hoof, and set it gently on his shoulder as she gave him an assuring smile. “Gather my armor, Spartacord, and assemble as many willing recruits as you can gather. Tonight, we dine in Tartarus.” Spartacord lifted his head to meet her eyes, and gave a Roaman salute. “It shall be done, o Lady of the Shelves.” Pielate watched as he rose, and strode back down the stairs: drawing a paper-mache saber, which he held high as he heralded the numerous creatures inside their wall: “Citizens! Let the armies of Cardboardia draw bendy straw and shield! For the forces of the Colt of Cost shall soon be upon us!” -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- “What’cha want us here for again, Pinkie?” The little Unicorn asked, her curly mane bouncing along with her words. Pinkie looked between the numerous schoolchildren- as well as quite a few adults that were already inside their walls -and addressed the four ponies in front directly. “Saccharine the Great,” she ordered, turning to Sweetie Belle. “I summoned you to lead all of the kingdom’s Unicorns in the defense of our walls, adult and foal alike.” Sweetie was only confused for a moment before she decided to play along, and giggled with a salute. “I’ll do my best!” She chirped as she turned to gather all her charges. Pinkie nodded, then shifted her attention to Scootaloo. “Scootilla the Hungry, I chose you to be in charge of our Junior Pegasi squadrons. I bid you now, go see if Rainboromir can lead the grown.” “On it!” The filly affirmed, before speeding off to retrieve her mentor. Smiling, Pinkie turned to the mare amongst her Generals. “Applejack Reacher, I request you to lead our clandestine operations. Select the stealthiest of the recruits, find out what Notasapientreptillian is up to, and report back!” “Yes, Ma’am.” Applejack smirked in amusement as she casually sauntered back into the crowd. Finally, Pinkie focused on her final warlord. “Pipolean Bonepiece,” she barked, looking down to the small foal standing strong under her stare, “you are to take command of the Earth Ponies of the realm.” Wordlessly, the colt lifted his hoof into a Roaman salute, and held it. Pinkie gave him an amused stare, before returning the salute. “You are dismissed.” She chuckled. Pip was certainly taking this more seriously than the others, and Pinkie respected that. Some might’ve have called this a trivial battle, but the same could be said of all who fought for what they believed in. Slowly, she returned her attention to the palace beyond, barely in time to notice a pegasus holding a straw to his lips. “SNIPER!” She cried, narrowly ducking a spitwad as it sailed past her, and struck a Earth Pony’s neck. The stallion shrieked in pain as the projectile bounced lightly off his brown coat, and he fell to the ground, slain. Somewhere, a white Unicorn screamed in grief, and held a pale blue filly close to her chest. Ponies shrieked and scattered in all directions, scuttling under whatever shelter they could find to conceal themselves from the threat. Spartacord braved a glance over the crenelations to identify their attacker, and was dismayed to find Thunderlane perched atop the enemy’s fortification, preparing for another shot. “Brethren!” He called in shock, “Once thy fought nobly by our Lady’s side, what evil hath seduced thee to turn on thy friends?” Thunderlane smirked, raised his hoof, and shook it at them. “YO MOMMA!” Discord pooched out his lower lip as he held up his talon. “I wouldn’t put it past her…” With a snap of his claws, a catapult was summoned onto the curtain wall, and flung a massive spitwad directly at the would-be assassin. Thunderlane shrieked at the boulder, and leapt from his post nary a moment too soon, as it nearly struck him once it crashed. Shaking off the debris, he ran back to a stairway, shouting “Notasapientreptillian! We’re going to need backup!” -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- On a hill to the side of the kingdoms, a pink Unicorn sat next to four Alicorns and a Drake, as they all set out a blanket to rest their rumps upon. “Who wants tea?” Starlight offered, levitating a large teapot out of a woven basket. Smiling at the unanimous confirmations, she started to serve. “How often to things like this happen, again?” She asked as she filled Celestia’s cup. “Not hardly often enough, I’m afraid.” The Princess giggled, raising a hoof to signal that the cup of tea was filled to her liking. “But trust me, Starlight, this is a spectacle you won’t want to miss...” -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Pinkie lingered at the head of the great table, taking census of those that answered her call for aid. She was already a full half-hour in when she glanced down to sum up their numbers, and was pleased to see that a mighty hundred ponies had signed up to fight by her side. Truly, even the gods would tremble at the sight of such an impenetrable force. Suddenly, the great double doors of the chamber flew open with a groan, and revealed a weary Applejack: soaked to the bone, and bearing a spare twig in her mane. She stumbled into the room with a limp and a cough as Pinkie and her council stood, stunned from the sight of their scout in such condition. Some of the servants hurriedly brought her water for her to drink. “Reacher, what has befallen you?” Pielate demanded, holding her spaghetti sceptre- as adorned by teething alligator -high. Applejack greedily drank from the chalice she was handed, and set her eyes upon Pielate with pity and despair. “All o’ Colt o’ Cost has emptied, Pinkie.” Pinkie’s expression fell. “How many?” Reacher’s ears folded. “Two thousand strong, at least.” “Two thousand?” Pinkie repeated, shaking her head. “It’s an army raised for a single purpose,” Applejack sighed, locking eyes with her, “to destroy the world of Cardboardia.” Pinkie’s eyes hardened as she glared at Applejack. “Let them come! I’ll have every mare and strong lad able to bear arms summoned by dawn, and we’ll get the Earth Ponies out of their caves.” Applejack saluted, but hesitated before walking out the door. “Take heed, yer Highness, this is no rabble of mindless clerks. These are Costcolts, their armor is thick, and their wrapping paper broad.” “Indeed,” Rainboromir rasped, “we must call for aid!” “And who will come?” Pinkie asked sadly, turning to face her generals. “Griffins? Minotaurs? We are not as lucky in our friends as we should be.” As if cued, a horn sounded outside the castle walls, and Scootilla stood from her chair. “That was no Costcolt call…” “Open the gate!” Discord’s voice called out from his post, before a clone of himself nodded, and complied. Pinkie walked out in time to see an army of fifty or so griffins, each armed with a fish and a large bag of toilet paper rolls, all marching in unison. She smiled as the leader broke off, and walked up to meet her. “A kind mare once handed me a packet of fish, and I wanted to repay that kindness by offering an army for some reason.” He hailed, bowing to one knee. “I would be honored to fight alongside you this once.” -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Pinkus Pielate once more looked over the lot, but this time with her armies gathered on the walls before her. Slowly, the garage doors of Costcolt opened: gradually letting sunlight unveil the hordes of Notasapientreptillian, who held numerous weapons. From hoses to water cannons, balloons to rubber ducks, and deadliest of all: cardboard cylinders of all shapes and sizes. Notasapientreptillian himself stood on the balcony above, robed in white and holding a staff made up of faucets. His workers slowly began to march out as their Star Mares Stormchaser armour glinted plastically under Celestia’s sun, chanting unintelligibly in some guttural tone. The price on the copyright of the armour alone proved them a formidable force. Pinkie looked to her catapults, and shouted. “Ready!” The catapults were loaded with giant spitwads, and the grunts loading them turned back the cranks with effort. “Aim!” The grunts were a bunch of small creatures that Pinkie had borrowed from her arch nemesis Truth, since this group annoyed him. She thought they looked a bit like gingerbread minotaurs, only with more dimensions and less horns. “Fire!” -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Celestia watched with interest as large projectiles flew at the employees of Costcolt, barely trying to hold back the snicker that was tickling her throat. “Dear me, this truly looks to be a full civil war on our hooves!” Luna giggled. “Sister, should we not intervene this time? It might be fun!” Celestia shook her head. “I’m afraid that would only inspire another reenactment of Star Mares, Luna.” She sighed. “And my throat still aches from when I had to scream ‘unlimited solar power!’ last year.” “Hi, guys! Are we too late?” Cadence called as she and Shining Armor ran up, both panting up a storm. Starlight shook her head. “Not by much, they just started the actual fight. Did you bring Sunburst?” Cadence laughed. “Sorry, had to leave him and Shining back at the palace to watch Flurry.” Twilight looked at the pony standing beside her. “If you left Shining home…” Shining Armor looked at all of them in confusion as they stared at him, before glancing down at himself. “Whoops!” He squeaked with a jump. “Forgot to take it off when we landed.” A quick swirl of magenta flame encircled him, transforming him into the giant of a Changeling: Thorax. Thorax chuckled as he sat down. “I didn’t want ponies staring…” With a collective shrug, the royal gathering watched eagerly as the battle raged on. Starlight offered her buggy friend some cake. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Pinkie stood atop the wall as volleys of water balloons sailed around her, slaying her troops five by five. Her army couldn’t take much more of this, and she knew it. “Spartacord!” She called as she looked across the water-soaked bodies of her fallen comrades. The creature in question appeared by her side with a flash, and kneeled. “What is it, Your Sugar Highness?” “Find Applejack Reacher, and tell her to infiltrate Costcolt. I have a plan…” -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Notasapientreptillian let out a sinister laugh as he and his two advisors stood around a small map atop a nightstand. A crude crayon drawing of Cardboardia was etched on a blueprint layout of Costcolt and it’s parking lot. “Now, if we just send another Air Balloon strike, we might win this war!” He cackled. The sound of the door casually opening interrupted him, however, as an orange figure stepped in: a smaller, black figure draped across his back. The figure wore a thick brown trench coat, and wore a blue mask to cover his face. Though his green eyes and yellow coat still peeked through the eyes and mouth of the tight rubber. “Gentlecolts…” he purred in a Prench accent, strutting in without a care. “Who are you?” One of the advisors asked indignantly. “My name iz Born, but zat iz ov no importance to you.” The earth pony assured as he strolled towards the table. “What you should be conzeorned about is whezer any ov you killed a farm pony on ze way in?” He glanced around with a feigned innocent curiosity, which quickly turned to spiteful seriousness. “No? Zen we still have a problem…” He threw the body he was carrying onto the table, and lifted the mane to show a small piece of tape stuck to its neck. The advisors flinched back, and tried not to lose their lunch at the grotesque sight. Notasapientreptillian just stared at the body, and looked up with narrowed eyes as the pony continued. “We have a Cardboardian spy on base…” Author's Note Written because WHY THE HECK NOT?! Message to my readers: this is why I stay away from sugar on weekends. (Also, whoever spots every single reference gets a cookie~) An Unexpected Setback“A spy? In my store?” Notasapientreptillian bellowed. “Preposterous! They won’t survive long in my world, I’ll devour their hearts and crap out their souls!” Born simply rolled his eyes, and took a roll of toilet paper out of his pocket. “Zis spy iz no amatuer, for she left behind a deadly weapon such as zis as if it were merely a calling card.” He tossed it carelessly on the table, causing all except Notasapientreptillian to flinch. “She iz eizer incredibly intelligeunt, elsewise she iz undeniably steupid. Since she has evaded my detection without fail, I can only assume it iz ze former.” Notasapientreptillian picked up the roll, and examined it coolly. “Well, you know what they say about spies,” he hummed, “the only ones who can evade their detection… is themselves.” Before Born could flinch, Notasapientreptillian flicked his hoof back and drove it forth: hurtling the toiletry directly into the spy’s chest. Born collapsed on the floor in a heap as the paper harmlessly bounced off of him, and didn’t get back up. The advisors stood in stunned silence, before the younger ventured to speak. “Why did you do that?” “Because I don’t trust spies,” Notasapientreptillian chuckled, before shoving the body off of the table, and reopening the map. “Now then, let’s get back to it…” -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Discord gave a shout as he swung a giant spaghetti noodle, effectively knocking down five of the Stormchasers. He wiped the alfredo sauce off of his forehead, and drove of another attacker with his pizza shield. “There’s too many!” Pinkie called to him, swinging a plunger at anypony who came near. “We need to get out of here! Find the Crusaders, and get them home!” She barely managed to finish speaking before he had to defend himself again. Discord glanced across the battlefield with a sorrowed expression, flinching as a wall-eyed mailmare emptied a tube of toothpaste onto Applebloom’s foreleg, effectively crippling the once mighty General. He nodded at her, scooped up the fallen leader, and retreated to find the others. With a heavy heart, Pinkie raised her plunger. “Fall back! Fall back to the rock!” Rainbow Dash turned back to retreat, but glanced over her shoulder long enough to see a stiffened pony fall to the ground, revealing Thunderlane himself sitting smugly atop a golden chariot. The deadly Twilicane was held in his hoof: a weapon which froze every enemy it touched with pure awesomeness. Thunderlane had his sights set on Pinkie, and urged the Polar Bears pulling his chariot to move faster. Rainbow turned to a random Rhinoceros that appeared by her side, which grunted aggressively. Holding up her giant inflatable microphone, she nodded to the massive mammal, and together they charged back into the fray. Pinkie looked up in time to see the pair rushing towards her, and instantly knew what they were up to. “STOOOOOOP!” She cried in a panic, but her protests fell on deaf ears, and she could only watch in despair as the duo rushed past her in a desperate attempt to defeat the Blue Wizard. The Rhino only made it a few yards before he was cut down by spitwads, but Rainbow plowed through all her attackers like a madmare. Derpy saw the crazed assault from above, and immediately dove down to tackle the speedster. She grappled with all her might, but only succeeded in dragging herself along with Rainbow. She took a letter from her satchel, and began furiously whacking the enraged Pegasus. Shrugging off the attack, rainbow flung her inflatable around, and smote Derpy with such force that the mare flew back. Unfortunately, the strike also deflated her weapon, forcing her to throw it aside and resort to bananas. Thunderlane glanced up with a sadistic grin as he noticed the prismatic blur speedily approaching him, and seamlessly dodged her banana with a flick of his neck. When she turned back to assault him, he raised the Twilicane, and there was a blinding flash of light... -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- “That’s going to leave a mark,” Twilight said with a wince, watching as her friend flopped onto the pavement after leaping over another pegasus riding a shopping cart. Discord was hurriedly scooping up the Crusaders as a handful of ponies wearing Stormchaser armor chased him across the lot. “Sometimes I wonder what scenes are playing in their little heads,” Celestia cooed, smiling widely. Starlight brightened. “I might be able to show you! I just need to cast--” she was cut off by Celestia’s hoof. “Wonderful offer, but watching the imagination in their eyes and actions is half the fun.” The Princess chuckled in an almost motherly tone. Starlight merely nodded with a smile, and resumed her task of observing the siege. “Albeit, only half of the fun…” Celestia tittered. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Pinkie and what little was left of her counterattack force retreated swiftly into Cardboardia as the defenses kept the Costcolt employees at bay. She felt devastated that she lost what she saw as a surefire victory, half of the griffin reinforcements falling at the hand of an Alicorn named Gary Stu. Hopes down, she left the three generals and Discord in charge as she sulked into the palace’s inn: Whinny’s End. Solemnly, she made her way to the counter, and plopped her rump on a stool. She then proceeded to flatted her face against the bar’s surface, and didn’t even bother to look up as the owner walked up to her. “What’ll it be, your Highness?” The aged Unicorn asked in a neighborly tone. Pinkie rolled her head to the side long enough to look him in the eye before answering. “One super-sweet-strawberry-sunrise-surprise, Whinny, with a brownie.” The stallion nodded quickly, and trotted to the other side of the bar, before returning with a milkshake that looked fresh from the weather factory and a small brownie in his levitation. Despite his speed, he was an elderly chap. His white mane was combed neatly, and a silky mustache of similar color decorated his lip. A small pair of reading glasses was perched on the center of his snout, and his blue eyes shone with compassion. He wore a green fleece jacket that complimented his light brown coat rather well. His full name was Fawn Avery Whinnaker, but most ponies called him Whinny. Carefully, he placed the treats in front of the battle-worn mare, and smiled at her. “Why the long face?” He asked with a twinkle in his eye. Pinkie just glared up at him for a moment, and his smile dropped as he nodded soberly. “Yeah, I take it the battle didn’t go so well?” Pinkie scoffed, and lifted her head to rest on one hoof while the other took hold of the brownie. “Huh, that’s not even the beginning of it. Why can’t the manager just let us build our castle out here in the lot? It’s not like there are any cars to park here or anything, and he said himself that he had no plans for the boxes when we first started taking them. Now they’re suddenly a precious resource or something? He declared war on us for goodness sake!” She shoved the chocolate pastry into her mouth, and swallowed. “I mean, we would’ve let him in if he didn’t start off by acting all snooty.” Whinnaker listened to her rant patiently as he cleaned a glass mug with a towel, silently quirking an eyebrow at her until she finished. Then, and only then, did he venture to speak: “I suppose it all comes down to whether or not you really have the right to build on his property, really.” He offered calmly, getting a look of intrigue from the young pink dictator. “Think about it: he never rebuked you when you took the boxes, so even if you didn’t have explicit permission it was obvious he didn’t mind. Yet once you had built your castle on what is- or at least, was -his property, that was when he began to protest.” Pinkie lifted her head, and tapped her chin with a hoof thoughtfully. “So, what you’re saying is that all I have to do is move Cardboardia, and all of this fighting will go away?” Whinny bounced his head from side to side. “Essentially, that’s the idea. I can’t promise that he won’t attack again, but it’s a good thought nonetheless.” Pinkie lingered on that for a moment, and then smiled. “You know what? I think I’ll give it a try! Thanks, Whi--” She was cut off by a loud bang from the other side of the store, and watched as the door to the back room erupted open in time to let out a giant cloud of smoke. A tan Earth Pony stumbled out of the room in a coughing fit, his eyes effectively and completely hidden behind a his brown mop cut. Pinkie couldn’t help but notice that he wore his glasses on the outside of his hair, and wondered how that even worked. The colt looked up with another cough, and raced frantically to the counter. “Mr. Whinnaker, Mr. Whinnaker!” “What is it, New Jeans?” Whinny asked, concern clear in his voice. Barely bothering to catch his breath, the youth spoke up in a panting flurry of words. “Mr. Whinnaker, I’m afraid that I must accuse Bonnie of tampering with the aviation actuator for our beloved airship! Follow me and see for yourself!” Whinny uttered a mixture between a confused grunt and a relieved sigh as the colt siezed him by the forearm, and looked back to Pinkie. “I’d better sort this out, but you just remember what I said!” “Alright, will do!” Pinkie called after him with a wave, returning her attention to her shake and chuckling playfully. “Now then,” she purred, wagging her tail, “let’s see how long you stay in that glass, my treat!” On the other side of the room, in a lonely booth, sat a tan-colored colt with a sinister scowl. His feathery golden bangs were tipped with white, and drooped over his glaring eyes. Author's Note Yes I know: shorter chapter, long time for so little, blahditty blah blah blah. It's been kinda hard to find opportunities to work lately, hence the delays. Regardless, here's your update! Until Nest Time, God Bless You! ~Amethyst Dawn. The Last Head HighPinkie adjusted the targeting system on her small, rickety fighter, locking on to the dreadnought in front of her. She was the best hope the Cardboardians had in this final hour, and she'd be darned if the Costcolt Order was going to sink them now. She flicked a switch with the tip of her mane, speaking into a small headset hidden in her helmet. “Oww!” She flinched at the brief screech of static that burst through the earpieces before focusing herself, “RD-8, how’s that transmission coming?” A series of chirps and beeps echoed through, bringing a cheery smile to her face. “Perfect! Patch me through, and let’s get this party started.” Meanwhile, aboard the bridge of the dreadnought Pizzaclipse, a cloaked figure in a dark mask watched as his feet fired upon the escaping vessel Strataflyer. While the barrage did nothing through the ship’s shields, he knew that they would have to wear down eventually. The fleeing Cardboardians would have no escape today, their crimes against the Order would be repaid. Suddenly, one of the ship’s operators called up to him. “Lord Rectrix Fells,” the cross-eyed mare shouted, “we have an incoming call from that fighter!” Rectrix turned his attention to the mare, and then looked back out the window. He repeated the motion a few more times before his deep, garbled voice spoke out. “What fighter?” “That one!” The mare said casually, pointing out the window into space. Rectrix leaned forward, likely squinting to catch a glimpse of whatever the mare saw. “I can’t… what color is it?” “It’s black, sir. With orange stripes. It’s the one shaped like one of those little pieces in that jacks game.” “How do you even see that?!” The mare shrugged. “I dunno, should I patch the call through?” Rectrix rubbed his mask with a gloved hoof. “Yes, fine, sure.” There was a loud crackling over the bridge’s speakers before a familiar, disgustingly chipper voice rang through. “Hi! It’s Ponk, Ponk Dameron.” The air in the bay grew heavy as Rectrix’s mood darkened, his head sinking only barely. Several of the operators shrank into their stations, with the exception of the cross-eyed one. She remained oblivious to the whole situation, maintaining the signal manually just because she wanted something to do in this scene. “What can I do for you, Ponk?” Rectix inquired, his disguised voice seething with hatred. “What can you do?” Ponk asked indignantly, “You can explain why you’re hunting us down like this! We figured you and your kind didn’t like us living so close to you, so we decided to pack up our people and our home, and GTBO!” “Crimes committed,” Rectrix barked, “are not undone when the criminals leave! You have offended Supreme Leader Smoke, and we’re here to--” “Supreme what now?” The genuine confusion in the pilot’s voice threw Rectrix off, leading him to shake his head to try and clear his thoughts. “I’m sorry?” “You said your Supreme Leader smokes? Rectrix blinked. “No, our Supreme leader is Smoke.” “You follow smoke?” “Yes, proudly.” “So do you use smoke signals, or do you just take a puff and do whatever comes to mind?” “A puff of what?” “Well, you said you smoke.” “I don’t smoke!” “But--” “I FOLLOW Smoke!” “Then who smokes?” “Smoke is our leader, not an action.” “Your leader is without action?” “What? That’s not what I--” On a distant planet, far away from the debate between idiots, Raylight Glimmer stood behind a cloaked figure, holding out an ancient weapon. Several small bird-like creatures gathered around, a golden one turning to its sister and muttering something about “out of all the Star Mares movies to reenact, they chose this one?!” The cloaked figure turned around, removing her hood to reveal her identity. She was the legendary hero of the galaxy, Twiluke Sparklewalker. She had retreated to the planet of Thathilloverthere, hoping that the galaxy would be able to sort out its own problems. But alas, instead of acting like adults, the rest of the galaxy decided to try and find their big sister to fight their battles for them. Twiluke took the weapon in her magic, a light of momentary hope flickering in Raylight’s eyes before Twiluke unceremoniously dropped the saber on the ground. She then grabbed Raylight with her magic, and threw the OP filly off a cliff. There was a loud thud. The scene was over. “When did barbecue sauce become a part of this?!” Rectrix demanded, stamping a hoof loudly on the floor. “I don’t know!” Ponk shouted. “You were talking about smoked salmon, and I got hungry!” “You don’t even eat salmon!” “Are you kidding? Who doesn’t eat smoked salmon?!” “I DON’T!” The room grew silent, even the countless operators sitting as still as possible in the heavy air. "RD-8," Ponk commanded, "end transmission. It's time for a flipping crusade." There was a loud click, and the wall-eyed operator smiled at Rectrix. “She hung up, want me to call her back?” Rectix turned to her, glaring through the expressionless face on his helmet as another operator spoke up. “Sir! Our sensors picked up the fighter! She’s coming in for an attack.” Ponk cheered as she swooped and swerved around the toilet paper rolls being shot at her from all directions. She was the Cardboardian’s best pilot, and she’d be sure she could single-handedly take down the numerous defenses of an immense ship like the Pizzaclipse! She aimed her water-zookas towards the shield generator, and-- “Sir, the enemy fighter has been defeated.” Rectrix looked out the massive windows in time to see a toilet-paper-covered starfighter drift by. “That worked?” He chuckled nervously. “She wasn’t too nimble, or agile?” Walleye looked up at him with concern. “No, sir. Attacks like this are exactly why we built those turrets. I mean, could you imagine if our anti-fighter defenses were too slow to fight fighters?” On the bridge of the Strataflyer, Vice Admiral Cordo winced as he watched Pinkie’s fighter become decimated with clean toiletries. Not even the most experienced space pilot could survive such ruthless fire. He threw his bright pink hair to one side, and held his arms up. “Everyone!” He commanded, as much as a polite soccer mom could command a room of teenagers. “I need your attention, the evil corporations have cut our forces in half, and claimed our best fighter! I need all of you to make several blogs about how Costcolt is evil for chasing us off of their property, it’s our only chance to fight this threat! Except for you three.” He pointed to three little fillies who were panicking around, trying to keep everypony calm. “You three need to look as cute as possible! Surely the problem will be fixed if we show them that ponies are cute!” Celestia took a long sip of her tea, raising an eyebrow at the antics taking place in the lot. Luna, sitting by her side, shifted nervously in place. “How did Discord even get that position?” Twilight asked, raising her eyebrow. “His leadership is terrible.” The royal sisters exchanged a glance, and Celestia winked at her former pupil. “Never underestimate the persuasive power of pink hair, dear Twilight.” “What,” Twilight’s face went blank, and she looked up to the older Princess. “What’s that supposed to mean?” The wreckage of the Strataflyer surfaced piece by piece, the twenty-odd survivors clambering out of the water in their escape pods. Commander Discourke lit a flame on his hand to light up the undersea cave, illuminating his elderly- but chiseled -facial features for all to see. “Alright, who’s not dead? Sound off.” “Here!” Called Fluttershylo Thatch, still shaken up from the attack. “Here!” Shouted Dr. Strongbearity, hoisting her medical bag out of the water. Rainbow Ramirez and Gaeton Pieliere helped haul a few sputtering survivors out of a sinking submarine, and all watched in pity as several planks of cardboard either fell apart or sank back into the water.. A few more of the crew sounded off once they could, and the total count was noted. “Well, only thing to do now is go forward.” Discourke said with a shrug. “Let’s gather up whatever supplies and personnel we have, and get the heck out of here.” “What point is there?!” Pieliere shouted, her mane deflated and limp. “Cardbordia is gone, destroyed. We’re scattered and without shelter or home, we have no hope.” Discourke said nothing, hanging his head. One by one, every other survivor followed suit, several slumping to the floor and wailing out in anguish. “You’re wrong,” Pieliere looked up to see a figure standing above her, holding the handle of a deflated inflatable microphone, her hooves crackling with electricity. Her magenta eyes filled with determination as she took one of the wounded over her shoulder, the charred and chopped remains of her multicolored mane fidgeting slightly in a sudden wind. “Cardboardia is a people, not a place.” She stated, walking deeper into the cave. “And as a people, we must find a new home.” Author's Note NEXT TIME ON SIEGE OF HELM'S PINK RAINBOR: RAG IN THE ROCK So... new update! This was never dead, it's just not often I'm feeling goofy enough to add on to this. As always, all opinions both positive and negative are welcome to be expressed in the comments. Leave an upvote if you're enjoying, downvote if you aren't. Feel free to point out where you think I screwed up if you want, and I'll see you next time! Until Next Time, God Bless You! ~Amethyst Dawn BONUS: The Council of Pinkies“Alright, girls!” Pinkie Pie pronounced, pacing with panicked posture placed precisely before a profusion of perplexingly peculiar Pinkies from parallel planes. “We need to find a new plan of survival, what should we do?” “THUSLY!” Pinkie Poet proudly proclaimed, positioning her prime facial pelt promptly aside. “Verily I beseech thee to flee into yonder caverns in haste, lest ye find thyself set back into a corner at so unfortunate a time! The fierce forces of our looming demise be approaching unyielding for all our mind’s eye can thus conceive, surely thou canst belay thine pride for present and see true reason?” “Nay, ya bearded oaf!” Pinkie Pirate prattled, pausing to partake in a swill of peppermint port. “These unfortunate souls should have no troubles settin’ up harbor upon these hidden shores. Aye, the Costcolt buckos ain’t be knowin’ their whereabouts. For all they know, we could be singing chanteys under their noses.” “Uuhd kihgl phte gna aghu mmne!” Pleaded Pinkthulhu, probably proposing pertinent planning. “Can anyone here understand the squid?” Prodded Pinkie Posh, planting poisonous peerings towards the prodigious eldritch person. P1-NK-13 personally punched Posh’s pastern, provoking pained pronunciations from the pretentious pony. Periodically the party plummeted into prepared postulations of profound impoliteness and presumptuous persistence, Pinkie Poindexter and Pinkie Pope participating in pointedly impetuous partician, pinning Pinkie Pan and Pinkielovania in precarious posits. Pinkie Pie pounded powerfully onto the pecan ponte upon which the Pinkies placed plans to paper, predictably getting a profound pattern of pivoting polls. Pinkie Predator’s apparel providing her with a pellucid appearance. Pinkie Pie pounced upon the platform, pulling profitable prominence from her peers. “Guys, guys!” The predominant Pinkie posed, “look, I know you don’t all get along well, and I’m only supposed to call these multidimensional meetings when there’s a mega-bummer emergency, but…” Pinkie pined ponderously, “... I just missed you guys, okay? I had to see if you all wanted join in our game. Can we just get along long enough to smile?” Pinkieternity stared at the activities through her celestial orb, raising her brow at all the abundance of other Pies in the room. Pinkie #8675309 had summoned all of them, these tens of Pinkies from the Seventeenth Council of the Infiniverse, merely to ask them to join a game of no consequence? While she was no stranger to the concepts of merriment and frivolity that these mortal mares tended to engage in, she questioned the wisdom in gathering so many guardians for such things, interrupting their own stories for the sake of these innocent activities usually expected only of youthful mortals. She barely realized that Pinkosmos had glided up beside her like a soothing mist, until they placed a hoof on the curious goddess’ shoulder. “Let them be, Pinkieternity.” Pinkosmos commanded gently, subtly tugging on her younger sister’s incorporeal shoulder. “It is only the thirty of them, many more have crossed before without major collapse. Now come, Pinkietherial has need of us.” Pinkieternity gave one last glance towards the orb before it faded into nothingness, almost feeling a longing for a mortal life. She, as the other goddesses, had wished many times that they may someday experience existence with the same liveliness as the mortals, embracing every passing second as something more than a fraction of the eons. The only one of their kind to manage something near to such a feat was Pinkieclipse, transforming herself into twins that were found by a bearded wizard. Pinkieternity made a note to herself to check in on the sisters after she tends to whatever was urgent enough to raise Pinkiethereal’s concern. Author's Note That's right, boys! Rainbor: Rag in the Rock might be featuring a lot of alternate Pinkies (And an alternate of another character who's already appeared)... whenever THAT update is added! ... my brain hurts after writing this. As always, all feedback, corrections, and what have you is appreciated! Until Next Time, you know the drill. ~Amethyst Dawn ... why did I write this.
The Siege BeginsThe pink hoof wrapped roughly around the once undisturbed package of Cherrychangas, and lifted it up to be scrutinized carefully by two light blue eyes. It was tilted one way, and then the other, before it was finally tossed into the shopping cart with an unceremonious clang. Pinkie Pie sighed in content as she looked down the large, cold aisle of the warehouse-turned-supermarket known as Costcolt, leering at the single row of packaged foods inspired by delicacies from Mexicolt, which- oddly enough -was right above the ice cream. Odd choice of sorting, to say the least. Her thoughts were paused, however, when she laid eyes on the Draconequus at the other end of the shelfs, perusing the organic birdseed with clear disinterest. Curiously, she pushed her cart over to his, and beamed up at him. “HI ‘Cord!” She chirped. He winced slightly at the sudden sound, and looked down at her with an unamused glare. “Oh, good afternoon, I suppose.” He shrugged, switching his gaze back to the shelf. “I don’t think you would know if they have any bird food with arsenic as an ingredient, would you?” Pinkie scrunched up her nose with a small grimace. “Fluttershy ask you to do the shopping again, huh?” She asked, receiving little more than a curt nod from the former god of chaos as his ears drooped. “Oh, yes, Ponk. And she even specifically requested that I go to this detestable place: only the most organized warehouse in Equestria. And she made me promise not to use my magic to shop, too…” he smirked down at Pinkie. “And I think we can agree that it’s far more entertaining that way.” Pinkie snorted a laugh at the reminder of the last time she encountered him while shopping, that time he was in the farmer’s market. “They still haven’t forgiven you for turning their fruit into a giant salad squid, you know.” Discord waved carelessly with his talon. “Please, it’s not as if anypony actually got hurt.” She squinted. “It almost ate Angel.” She scolded, albeit lightly. The draconequus grinned devilishly. “Pinkie, in all honestly, would that have really been a loss?” He chided, voice oozing with smug spite. Pinkie opened her mouth to object, but paused for a beat before shutting it just as quickly. He did make a good point. “Fine,” she huffed in feigned irritation, “I’m heading off to the back for some fish for Gummy, I’ll see you later!” With that, she pushed her cart down the aisle while he waved her off, and marched through the store. She made a couple more stops on the way to look at some cute summer jackets and whatnot, and eventually made her way to the back: where the more ‘uncouth’ foods were kept, as well as numerous empty crates and boxes of all sizes. She walked into the ‘Carnivore’ aisle, and reached for a package of fish. “Hey, care to hand me one of those, kid?” She looked over her shoulder at a middle-aged griffin giving her a plastic, yet polite smile standing just off to her left. Grinning, she obliged. “Thanks,” the griffin muttered with a nod, walking off with a slightly more sincere smile. Pinkie watched him leave the aisle before absently grabbing a few more bags of tripe. She looked down into her cart to momentarily take stock of what she had so far: three fish, a box of cherrychangas, a couple dozen Hungry Colt dinners, a package of bagels, and ingredients for lasagnas, quesadillas, spaghetti, muffins, as well as an extra gallon of milk. “You know, those same boxes have been sitting there for over three months now.” She jumped slightly as Discord’s cart parked in front of hers, and he gestured at a number of ridiculously immense pile of giant cardboard containers with a lazy thumb, which was currently napping on a thumb-sized bed. “You’d think they would find a use for them by now.” He continued, oblivious to her curious stare. She gave him an intrigued grin. “What did you have in mind?” Discord’s cheeks folded back as a toothy smirk overtook his face, and he raised his paw: summoning a small parchment. He reached up his claw to pluck off his deer antler, and used it as a pen while he jotted down a few lines, before flinging it into thin air with a flick of his wrist. “What was that?” Pinkie inquired as the parchment grew wings and a horn, and teleported out of sight. Discord chuckled darkly as he screwed his horn back on. “Oh… you’ll see…” He looked over to her. “Now… as for what we should do…” -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Pinkus Pielate stood on the top of the immense wall that stretched along the wagon lot outside the store, observing as the peasants stood about at the gate, each asking for passage to the inside. She adjusted her golden robe carefully, and observed as her guard- Spartacord -granted the wishes of all. One particular brown stallion, however, was being a bit of a bother to him… “Sir, I have to insist that you remove your fortifications from this area, and at least move it outside of my lot.” He said, disinterest clear in his voice as he eyed the cardboard palace within the walls. Pinkus furrowed her brow. Oh, how high and mighty he must have thought himself! What with his black shirt fresh from the drycleaners, and his nametag that read ‘Notasapientreptillian’, and his green jacket with yellow trimming, and his chest hair. Well, if he thought they’d leave their kingdom on the whim of a meager landowner, him and his hairdo had another think coming! As if reading his commander’s thoughts, Spartacord raised a rubber chicken, and held it menacingly at the stallion’s throat: “Listen, Apu,” He offered, as the clerk held up his forehooves with a nervous gulp, “I know we both want a peaceful resolution here, with as little bloodshed as possible. We’re not holding up your costumers, are we?” His eye twinkled slightly when the stallion shook his head. “See? So then there’s no problem.” Spartacord lowered his weapon, allowing the breath to escape from the other’s throat. “Now, I trust we won’t have any more problems from your ponies?” Mr. Notasapientreptillian lifted his head, and narrowed his eyes menacingly. “That depends entirely on you, Discord.” He shot, before turning on his heel to disappear back into his palace of shelves. Spartacord snorted indignantly, and pulled a lever to close the gate, lowering the portcullis with a loud clang. A surprising feat, considering that the bars were made of cardstock. Ignoring the protests of those still trapped outside the wall, he ascended the stairs to meet Pinkus on the walk. “Mayor Pielate,” he addressed, kneeling in front of her with a sober expression. “I fear that Lord Notasapientreptillian might pose a threat to us, and that he may be gathering his forces. What action do we take?” Pielate raised her hoof, and set it gently on his shoulder as she gave him an assuring smile. “Gather my armor, Spartacord, and assemble as many willing recruits as you can gather. Tonight, we dine in Tartarus.” Spartacord lifted his head to meet her eyes, and gave a Roaman salute. “It shall be done, o Lady of the Shelves.” Pielate watched as he rose, and strode back down the stairs: drawing a paper-mache saber, which he held high as he heralded the numerous creatures inside their wall: “Citizens! Let the armies of Cardboardia draw bendy straw and shield! For the forces of the Colt of Cost shall soon be upon us!” -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- “What’cha want us here for again, Pinkie?” The little Unicorn asked, her curly mane bouncing along with her words. Pinkie looked between the numerous schoolchildren- as well as quite a few adults that were already inside their walls -and addressed the four ponies in front directly. “Saccharine the Great,” she ordered, turning to Sweetie Belle. “I summoned you to lead all of the kingdom’s Unicorns in the defense of our walls, adult and foal alike.” Sweetie was only confused for a moment before she decided to play along, and giggled with a salute. “I’ll do my best!” She chirped as she turned to gather all her charges. Pinkie nodded, then shifted her attention to Scootaloo. “Scootilla the Hungry, I chose you to be in charge of our Junior Pegasi squadrons. I bid you now, go see if Rainboromir can lead the grown.” “On it!” The filly affirmed, before speeding off to retrieve her mentor. Smiling, Pinkie turned to the mare amongst her Generals. “Applejack Reacher, I request you to lead our clandestine operations. Select the stealthiest of the recruits, find out what Notasapientreptillian is up to, and report back!” “Yes, Ma’am.” Applejack smirked in amusement as she casually sauntered back into the crowd. Finally, Pinkie focused on her final warlord. “Pipolean Bonepiece,” she barked, looking down to the small foal standing strong under her stare, “you are to take command of the Earth Ponies of the realm.” Wordlessly, the colt lifted his hoof into a Roaman salute, and held it. Pinkie gave him an amused stare, before returning the salute. “You are dismissed.” She chuckled. Pip was certainly taking this more seriously than the others, and Pinkie respected that. Some might’ve have called this a trivial battle, but the same could be said of all who fought for what they believed in. Slowly, she returned her attention to the palace beyond, barely in time to notice a pegasus holding a straw to his lips. “SNIPER!” She cried, narrowly ducking a spitwad as it sailed past her, and struck a Earth Pony’s neck. The stallion shrieked in pain as the projectile bounced lightly off his brown coat, and he fell to the ground, slain. Somewhere, a white Unicorn screamed in grief, and held a pale blue filly close to her chest. Ponies shrieked and scattered in all directions, scuttling under whatever shelter they could find to conceal themselves from the threat. Spartacord braved a glance over the crenelations to identify their attacker, and was dismayed to find Thunderlane perched atop the enemy’s fortification, preparing for another shot. “Brethren!” He called in shock, “Once thy fought nobly by our Lady’s side, what evil hath seduced thee to turn on thy friends?” Thunderlane smirked, raised his hoof, and shook it at them. “YO MOMMA!” Discord pooched out his lower lip as he held up his talon. “I wouldn’t put it past her…” With a snap of his claws, a catapult was summoned onto the curtain wall, and flung a massive spitwad directly at the would-be assassin. Thunderlane shrieked at the boulder, and leapt from his post nary a moment too soon, as it nearly struck him once it crashed. Shaking off the debris, he ran back to a stairway, shouting “Notasapientreptillian! We’re going to need backup!” -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- On a hill to the side of the kingdoms, a pink Unicorn sat next to four Alicorns and a Drake, as they all set out a blanket to rest their rumps upon. “Who wants tea?” Starlight offered, levitating a large teapot out of a woven basket. Smiling at the unanimous confirmations, she started to serve. “How often to things like this happen, again?” She asked as she filled Celestia’s cup. “Not hardly often enough, I’m afraid.” The Princess giggled, raising a hoof to signal that the cup of tea was filled to her liking. “But trust me, Starlight, this is a spectacle you won’t want to miss...” -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Pinkie lingered at the head of the great table, taking census of those that answered her call for aid. She was already a full half-hour in when she glanced down to sum up their numbers, and was pleased to see that a mighty hundred ponies had signed up to fight by her side. Truly, even the gods would tremble at the sight of such an impenetrable force. Suddenly, the great double doors of the chamber flew open with a groan, and revealed a weary Applejack: soaked to the bone, and bearing a spare twig in her mane. She stumbled into the room with a limp and a cough as Pinkie and her council stood, stunned from the sight of their scout in such condition. Some of the servants hurriedly brought her water for her to drink. “Reacher, what has befallen you?” Pielate demanded, holding her spaghetti sceptre- as adorned by teething alligator -high. Applejack greedily drank from the chalice she was handed, and set her eyes upon Pielate with pity and despair. “All o’ Colt o’ Cost has emptied, Pinkie.” Pinkie’s expression fell. “How many?” Reacher’s ears folded. “Two thousand strong, at least.” “Two thousand?” Pinkie repeated, shaking her head. “It’s an army raised for a single purpose,” Applejack sighed, locking eyes with her, “to destroy the world of Cardboardia.” Pinkie’s eyes hardened as she glared at Applejack. “Let them come! I’ll have every mare and strong lad able to bear arms summoned by dawn, and we’ll get the Earth Ponies out of their caves.” Applejack saluted, but hesitated before walking out the door. “Take heed, yer Highness, this is no rabble of mindless clerks. These are Costcolts, their armor is thick, and their wrapping paper broad.” “Indeed,” Rainboromir rasped, “we must call for aid!” “And who will come?” Pinkie asked sadly, turning to face her generals. “Griffins? Minotaurs? We are not as lucky in our friends as we should be.” As if cued, a horn sounded outside the castle walls, and Scootilla stood from her chair. “That was no Costcolt call…” “Open the gate!” Discord’s voice called out from his post, before a clone of himself nodded, and complied. Pinkie walked out in time to see an army of fifty or so griffins, each armed with a fish and a large bag of toilet paper rolls, all marching in unison. She smiled as the leader broke off, and walked up to meet her. “A kind mare once handed me a packet of fish, and I wanted to repay that kindness by offering an army for some reason.” He hailed, bowing to one knee. “I would be honored to fight alongside you this once.” -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Pinkus Pielate once more looked over the lot, but this time with her armies gathered on the walls before her. Slowly, the garage doors of Costcolt opened: gradually letting sunlight unveil the hordes of Notasapientreptillian, who held numerous weapons. From hoses to water cannons, balloons to rubber ducks, and deadliest of all: cardboard cylinders of all shapes and sizes. Notasapientreptillian himself stood on the balcony above, robed in white and holding a staff made up of faucets. His workers slowly began to march out as their Star Mares Stormchaser armour glinted plastically under Celestia’s sun, chanting unintelligibly in some guttural tone. The price on the copyright of the armour alone proved them a formidable force. Pinkie looked to her catapults, and shouted. “Ready!” The catapults were loaded with giant spitwads, and the grunts loading them turned back the cranks with effort. “Aim!” The grunts were a bunch of small creatures that Pinkie had borrowed from her arch nemesis Truth, since this group annoyed him. She thought they looked a bit like gingerbread minotaurs, only with more dimensions and less horns. “Fire!” -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Celestia watched with interest as large projectiles flew at the employees of Costcolt, barely trying to hold back the snicker that was tickling her throat. “Dear me, this truly looks to be a full civil war on our hooves!” Luna giggled. “Sister, should we not intervene this time? It might be fun!” Celestia shook her head. “I’m afraid that would only inspire another reenactment of Star Mares, Luna.” She sighed. “And my throat still aches from when I had to scream ‘unlimited solar power!’ last year.” “Hi, guys! Are we too late?” Cadence called as she and Shining Armor ran up, both panting up a storm. Starlight shook her head. “Not by much, they just started the actual fight. Did you bring Sunburst?” Cadence laughed. “Sorry, had to leave him and Shining back at the palace to watch Flurry.” Twilight looked at the pony standing beside her. “If you left Shining home…” Shining Armor looked at all of them in confusion as they stared at him, before glancing down at himself. “Whoops!” He squeaked with a jump. “Forgot to take it off when we landed.” A quick swirl of magenta flame encircled him, transforming him into the giant of a Changeling: Thorax. Thorax chuckled as he sat down. “I didn’t want ponies staring…” With a collective shrug, the royal gathering watched eagerly as the battle raged on. Starlight offered her buggy friend some cake. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Pinkie stood atop the wall as volleys of water balloons sailed around her, slaying her troops five by five. Her army couldn’t take much more of this, and she knew it. “Spartacord!” She called as she looked across the water-soaked bodies of her fallen comrades. The creature in question appeared by her side with a flash, and kneeled. “What is it, Your Sugar Highness?” “Find Applejack Reacher, and tell her to infiltrate Costcolt. I have a plan…” -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Notasapientreptillian let out a sinister laugh as he and his two advisors stood around a small map atop a nightstand. A crude crayon drawing of Cardboardia was etched on a blueprint layout of Costcolt and it’s parking lot. “Now, if we just send another Air Balloon strike, we might win this war!” He cackled. The sound of the door casually opening interrupted him, however, as an orange figure stepped in: a smaller, black figure draped across his back. The figure wore a thick brown trench coat, and wore a blue mask to cover his face. Though his green eyes and yellow coat still peeked through the eyes and mouth of the tight rubber. “Gentlecolts…” he purred in a Prench accent, strutting in without a care. “Who are you?” One of the advisors asked indignantly. “My name iz Born, but zat iz ov no importance to you.” The earth pony assured as he strolled towards the table. “What you should be conzeorned about is whezer any ov you killed a farm pony on ze way in?” He glanced around with a feigned innocent curiosity, which quickly turned to spiteful seriousness. “No? Zen we still have a problem…” He threw the body he was carrying onto the table, and lifted the mane to show a small piece of tape stuck to its neck. The advisors flinched back, and tried not to lose their lunch at the grotesque sight. Notasapientreptillian just stared at the body, and looked up with narrowed eyes as the pony continued. “We have a Cardboardian spy on base…” Author's Note Written because WHY THE HECK NOT?! Message to my readers: this is why I stay away from sugar on weekends. (Also, whoever spots every single reference gets a cookie~)
An Unexpected Setback“A spy? In my store?” Notasapientreptillian bellowed. “Preposterous! They won’t survive long in my world, I’ll devour their hearts and crap out their souls!” Born simply rolled his eyes, and took a roll of toilet paper out of his pocket. “Zis spy iz no amatuer, for she left behind a deadly weapon such as zis as if it were merely a calling card.” He tossed it carelessly on the table, causing all except Notasapientreptillian to flinch. “She iz eizer incredibly intelligeunt, elsewise she iz undeniably steupid. Since she has evaded my detection without fail, I can only assume it iz ze former.” Notasapientreptillian picked up the roll, and examined it coolly. “Well, you know what they say about spies,” he hummed, “the only ones who can evade their detection… is themselves.” Before Born could flinch, Notasapientreptillian flicked his hoof back and drove it forth: hurtling the toiletry directly into the spy’s chest. Born collapsed on the floor in a heap as the paper harmlessly bounced off of him, and didn’t get back up. The advisors stood in stunned silence, before the younger ventured to speak. “Why did you do that?” “Because I don’t trust spies,” Notasapientreptillian chuckled, before shoving the body off of the table, and reopening the map. “Now then, let’s get back to it…” -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Discord gave a shout as he swung a giant spaghetti noodle, effectively knocking down five of the Stormchasers. He wiped the alfredo sauce off of his forehead, and drove of another attacker with his pizza shield. “There’s too many!” Pinkie called to him, swinging a plunger at anypony who came near. “We need to get out of here! Find the Crusaders, and get them home!” She barely managed to finish speaking before he had to defend himself again. Discord glanced across the battlefield with a sorrowed expression, flinching as a wall-eyed mailmare emptied a tube of toothpaste onto Applebloom’s foreleg, effectively crippling the once mighty General. He nodded at her, scooped up the fallen leader, and retreated to find the others. With a heavy heart, Pinkie raised her plunger. “Fall back! Fall back to the rock!” Rainbow Dash turned back to retreat, but glanced over her shoulder long enough to see a stiffened pony fall to the ground, revealing Thunderlane himself sitting smugly atop a golden chariot. The deadly Twilicane was held in his hoof: a weapon which froze every enemy it touched with pure awesomeness. Thunderlane had his sights set on Pinkie, and urged the Polar Bears pulling his chariot to move faster. Rainbow turned to a random Rhinoceros that appeared by her side, which grunted aggressively. Holding up her giant inflatable microphone, she nodded to the massive mammal, and together they charged back into the fray. Pinkie looked up in time to see the pair rushing towards her, and instantly knew what they were up to. “STOOOOOOP!” She cried in a panic, but her protests fell on deaf ears, and she could only watch in despair as the duo rushed past her in a desperate attempt to defeat the Blue Wizard. The Rhino only made it a few yards before he was cut down by spitwads, but Rainbow plowed through all her attackers like a madmare. Derpy saw the crazed assault from above, and immediately dove down to tackle the speedster. She grappled with all her might, but only succeeded in dragging herself along with Rainbow. She took a letter from her satchel, and began furiously whacking the enraged Pegasus. Shrugging off the attack, rainbow flung her inflatable around, and smote Derpy with such force that the mare flew back. Unfortunately, the strike also deflated her weapon, forcing her to throw it aside and resort to bananas. Thunderlane glanced up with a sadistic grin as he noticed the prismatic blur speedily approaching him, and seamlessly dodged her banana with a flick of his neck. When she turned back to assault him, he raised the Twilicane, and there was a blinding flash of light... -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- “That’s going to leave a mark,” Twilight said with a wince, watching as her friend flopped onto the pavement after leaping over another pegasus riding a shopping cart. Discord was hurriedly scooping up the Crusaders as a handful of ponies wearing Stormchaser armor chased him across the lot. “Sometimes I wonder what scenes are playing in their little heads,” Celestia cooed, smiling widely. Starlight brightened. “I might be able to show you! I just need to cast--” she was cut off by Celestia’s hoof. “Wonderful offer, but watching the imagination in their eyes and actions is half the fun.” The Princess chuckled in an almost motherly tone. Starlight merely nodded with a smile, and resumed her task of observing the siege. “Albeit, only half of the fun…” Celestia tittered. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Pinkie and what little was left of her counterattack force retreated swiftly into Cardboardia as the defenses kept the Costcolt employees at bay. She felt devastated that she lost what she saw as a surefire victory, half of the griffin reinforcements falling at the hand of an Alicorn named Gary Stu. Hopes down, she left the three generals and Discord in charge as she sulked into the palace’s inn: Whinny’s End. Solemnly, she made her way to the counter, and plopped her rump on a stool. She then proceeded to flatted her face against the bar’s surface, and didn’t even bother to look up as the owner walked up to her. “What’ll it be, your Highness?” The aged Unicorn asked in a neighborly tone. Pinkie rolled her head to the side long enough to look him in the eye before answering. “One super-sweet-strawberry-sunrise-surprise, Whinny, with a brownie.” The stallion nodded quickly, and trotted to the other side of the bar, before returning with a milkshake that looked fresh from the weather factory and a small brownie in his levitation. Despite his speed, he was an elderly chap. His white mane was combed neatly, and a silky mustache of similar color decorated his lip. A small pair of reading glasses was perched on the center of his snout, and his blue eyes shone with compassion. He wore a green fleece jacket that complimented his light brown coat rather well. His full name was Fawn Avery Whinnaker, but most ponies called him Whinny. Carefully, he placed the treats in front of the battle-worn mare, and smiled at her. “Why the long face?” He asked with a twinkle in his eye. Pinkie just glared up at him for a moment, and his smile dropped as he nodded soberly. “Yeah, I take it the battle didn’t go so well?” Pinkie scoffed, and lifted her head to rest on one hoof while the other took hold of the brownie. “Huh, that’s not even the beginning of it. Why can’t the manager just let us build our castle out here in the lot? It’s not like there are any cars to park here or anything, and he said himself that he had no plans for the boxes when we first started taking them. Now they’re suddenly a precious resource or something? He declared war on us for goodness sake!” She shoved the chocolate pastry into her mouth, and swallowed. “I mean, we would’ve let him in if he didn’t start off by acting all snooty.” Whinnaker listened to her rant patiently as he cleaned a glass mug with a towel, silently quirking an eyebrow at her until she finished. Then, and only then, did he venture to speak: “I suppose it all comes down to whether or not you really have the right to build on his property, really.” He offered calmly, getting a look of intrigue from the young pink dictator. “Think about it: he never rebuked you when you took the boxes, so even if you didn’t have explicit permission it was obvious he didn’t mind. Yet once you had built your castle on what is- or at least, was -his property, that was when he began to protest.” Pinkie lifted her head, and tapped her chin with a hoof thoughtfully. “So, what you’re saying is that all I have to do is move Cardboardia, and all of this fighting will go away?” Whinny bounced his head from side to side. “Essentially, that’s the idea. I can’t promise that he won’t attack again, but it’s a good thought nonetheless.” Pinkie lingered on that for a moment, and then smiled. “You know what? I think I’ll give it a try! Thanks, Whi--” She was cut off by a loud bang from the other side of the store, and watched as the door to the back room erupted open in time to let out a giant cloud of smoke. A tan Earth Pony stumbled out of the room in a coughing fit, his eyes effectively and completely hidden behind a his brown mop cut. Pinkie couldn’t help but notice that he wore his glasses on the outside of his hair, and wondered how that even worked. The colt looked up with another cough, and raced frantically to the counter. “Mr. Whinnaker, Mr. Whinnaker!” “What is it, New Jeans?” Whinny asked, concern clear in his voice. Barely bothering to catch his breath, the youth spoke up in a panting flurry of words. “Mr. Whinnaker, I’m afraid that I must accuse Bonnie of tampering with the aviation actuator for our beloved airship! Follow me and see for yourself!” Whinny uttered a mixture between a confused grunt and a relieved sigh as the colt siezed him by the forearm, and looked back to Pinkie. “I’d better sort this out, but you just remember what I said!” “Alright, will do!” Pinkie called after him with a wave, returning her attention to her shake and chuckling playfully. “Now then,” she purred, wagging her tail, “let’s see how long you stay in that glass, my treat!” On the other side of the room, in a lonely booth, sat a tan-colored colt with a sinister scowl. His feathery golden bangs were tipped with white, and drooped over his glaring eyes. Author's Note Yes I know: shorter chapter, long time for so little, blahditty blah blah blah. It's been kinda hard to find opportunities to work lately, hence the delays. Regardless, here's your update! Until Nest Time, God Bless You! ~Amethyst Dawn.
The Last Head HighPinkie adjusted the targeting system on her small, rickety fighter, locking on to the dreadnought in front of her. She was the best hope the Cardboardians had in this final hour, and she'd be darned if the Costcolt Order was going to sink them now. She flicked a switch with the tip of her mane, speaking into a small headset hidden in her helmet. “Oww!” She flinched at the brief screech of static that burst through the earpieces before focusing herself, “RD-8, how’s that transmission coming?” A series of chirps and beeps echoed through, bringing a cheery smile to her face. “Perfect! Patch me through, and let’s get this party started.” Meanwhile, aboard the bridge of the dreadnought Pizzaclipse, a cloaked figure in a dark mask watched as his feet fired upon the escaping vessel Strataflyer. While the barrage did nothing through the ship’s shields, he knew that they would have to wear down eventually. The fleeing Cardboardians would have no escape today, their crimes against the Order would be repaid. Suddenly, one of the ship’s operators called up to him. “Lord Rectrix Fells,” the cross-eyed mare shouted, “we have an incoming call from that fighter!” Rectrix turned his attention to the mare, and then looked back out the window. He repeated the motion a few more times before his deep, garbled voice spoke out. “What fighter?” “That one!” The mare said casually, pointing out the window into space. Rectrix leaned forward, likely squinting to catch a glimpse of whatever the mare saw. “I can’t… what color is it?” “It’s black, sir. With orange stripes. It’s the one shaped like one of those little pieces in that jacks game.” “How do you even see that?!” The mare shrugged. “I dunno, should I patch the call through?” Rectrix rubbed his mask with a gloved hoof. “Yes, fine, sure.” There was a loud crackling over the bridge’s speakers before a familiar, disgustingly chipper voice rang through. “Hi! It’s Ponk, Ponk Dameron.” The air in the bay grew heavy as Rectrix’s mood darkened, his head sinking only barely. Several of the operators shrank into their stations, with the exception of the cross-eyed one. She remained oblivious to the whole situation, maintaining the signal manually just because she wanted something to do in this scene. “What can I do for you, Ponk?” Rectix inquired, his disguised voice seething with hatred. “What can you do?” Ponk asked indignantly, “You can explain why you’re hunting us down like this! We figured you and your kind didn’t like us living so close to you, so we decided to pack up our people and our home, and GTBO!” “Crimes committed,” Rectrix barked, “are not undone when the criminals leave! You have offended Supreme Leader Smoke, and we’re here to--” “Supreme what now?” The genuine confusion in the pilot’s voice threw Rectrix off, leading him to shake his head to try and clear his thoughts. “I’m sorry?” “You said your Supreme Leader smokes? Rectrix blinked. “No, our Supreme leader is Smoke.” “You follow smoke?” “Yes, proudly.” “So do you use smoke signals, or do you just take a puff and do whatever comes to mind?” “A puff of what?” “Well, you said you smoke.” “I don’t smoke!” “But--” “I FOLLOW Smoke!” “Then who smokes?” “Smoke is our leader, not an action.” “Your leader is without action?” “What? That’s not what I--” On a distant planet, far away from the debate between idiots, Raylight Glimmer stood behind a cloaked figure, holding out an ancient weapon. Several small bird-like creatures gathered around, a golden one turning to its sister and muttering something about “out of all the Star Mares movies to reenact, they chose this one?!” The cloaked figure turned around, removing her hood to reveal her identity. She was the legendary hero of the galaxy, Twiluke Sparklewalker. She had retreated to the planet of Thathilloverthere, hoping that the galaxy would be able to sort out its own problems. But alas, instead of acting like adults, the rest of the galaxy decided to try and find their big sister to fight their battles for them. Twiluke took the weapon in her magic, a light of momentary hope flickering in Raylight’s eyes before Twiluke unceremoniously dropped the saber on the ground. She then grabbed Raylight with her magic, and threw the OP filly off a cliff. There was a loud thud. The scene was over. “When did barbecue sauce become a part of this?!” Rectrix demanded, stamping a hoof loudly on the floor. “I don’t know!” Ponk shouted. “You were talking about smoked salmon, and I got hungry!” “You don’t even eat salmon!” “Are you kidding? Who doesn’t eat smoked salmon?!” “I DON’T!” The room grew silent, even the countless operators sitting as still as possible in the heavy air. "RD-8," Ponk commanded, "end transmission. It's time for a flipping crusade." There was a loud click, and the wall-eyed operator smiled at Rectrix. “She hung up, want me to call her back?” Rectix turned to her, glaring through the expressionless face on his helmet as another operator spoke up. “Sir! Our sensors picked up the fighter! She’s coming in for an attack.” Ponk cheered as she swooped and swerved around the toilet paper rolls being shot at her from all directions. She was the Cardboardian’s best pilot, and she’d be sure she could single-handedly take down the numerous defenses of an immense ship like the Pizzaclipse! She aimed her water-zookas towards the shield generator, and-- “Sir, the enemy fighter has been defeated.” Rectrix looked out the massive windows in time to see a toilet-paper-covered starfighter drift by. “That worked?” He chuckled nervously. “She wasn’t too nimble, or agile?” Walleye looked up at him with concern. “No, sir. Attacks like this are exactly why we built those turrets. I mean, could you imagine if our anti-fighter defenses were too slow to fight fighters?” On the bridge of the Strataflyer, Vice Admiral Cordo winced as he watched Pinkie’s fighter become decimated with clean toiletries. Not even the most experienced space pilot could survive such ruthless fire. He threw his bright pink hair to one side, and held his arms up. “Everyone!” He commanded, as much as a polite soccer mom could command a room of teenagers. “I need your attention, the evil corporations have cut our forces in half, and claimed our best fighter! I need all of you to make several blogs about how Costcolt is evil for chasing us off of their property, it’s our only chance to fight this threat! Except for you three.” He pointed to three little fillies who were panicking around, trying to keep everypony calm. “You three need to look as cute as possible! Surely the problem will be fixed if we show them that ponies are cute!” Celestia took a long sip of her tea, raising an eyebrow at the antics taking place in the lot. Luna, sitting by her side, shifted nervously in place. “How did Discord even get that position?” Twilight asked, raising her eyebrow. “His leadership is terrible.” The royal sisters exchanged a glance, and Celestia winked at her former pupil. “Never underestimate the persuasive power of pink hair, dear Twilight.” “What,” Twilight’s face went blank, and she looked up to the older Princess. “What’s that supposed to mean?” The wreckage of the Strataflyer surfaced piece by piece, the twenty-odd survivors clambering out of the water in their escape pods. Commander Discourke lit a flame on his hand to light up the undersea cave, illuminating his elderly- but chiseled -facial features for all to see. “Alright, who’s not dead? Sound off.” “Here!” Called Fluttershylo Thatch, still shaken up from the attack. “Here!” Shouted Dr. Strongbearity, hoisting her medical bag out of the water. Rainbow Ramirez and Gaeton Pieliere helped haul a few sputtering survivors out of a sinking submarine, and all watched in pity as several planks of cardboard either fell apart or sank back into the water.. A few more of the crew sounded off once they could, and the total count was noted. “Well, only thing to do now is go forward.” Discourke said with a shrug. “Let’s gather up whatever supplies and personnel we have, and get the heck out of here.” “What point is there?!” Pieliere shouted, her mane deflated and limp. “Cardbordia is gone, destroyed. We’re scattered and without shelter or home, we have no hope.” Discourke said nothing, hanging his head. One by one, every other survivor followed suit, several slumping to the floor and wailing out in anguish. “You’re wrong,” Pieliere looked up to see a figure standing above her, holding the handle of a deflated inflatable microphone, her hooves crackling with electricity. Her magenta eyes filled with determination as she took one of the wounded over her shoulder, the charred and chopped remains of her multicolored mane fidgeting slightly in a sudden wind. “Cardboardia is a people, not a place.” She stated, walking deeper into the cave. “And as a people, we must find a new home.” Author's Note NEXT TIME ON SIEGE OF HELM'S PINK RAINBOR: RAG IN THE ROCK So... new update! This was never dead, it's just not often I'm feeling goofy enough to add on to this. As always, all opinions both positive and negative are welcome to be expressed in the comments. Leave an upvote if you're enjoying, downvote if you aren't. Feel free to point out where you think I screwed up if you want, and I'll see you next time! Until Next Time, God Bless You! ~Amethyst Dawn
BONUS: The Council of Pinkies“Alright, girls!” Pinkie Pie pronounced, pacing with panicked posture placed precisely before a profusion of perplexingly peculiar Pinkies from parallel planes. “We need to find a new plan of survival, what should we do?” “THUSLY!” Pinkie Poet proudly proclaimed, positioning her prime facial pelt promptly aside. “Verily I beseech thee to flee into yonder caverns in haste, lest ye find thyself set back into a corner at so unfortunate a time! The fierce forces of our looming demise be approaching unyielding for all our mind’s eye can thus conceive, surely thou canst belay thine pride for present and see true reason?” “Nay, ya bearded oaf!” Pinkie Pirate prattled, pausing to partake in a swill of peppermint port. “These unfortunate souls should have no troubles settin’ up harbor upon these hidden shores. Aye, the Costcolt buckos ain’t be knowin’ their whereabouts. For all they know, we could be singing chanteys under their noses.” “Uuhd kihgl phte gna aghu mmne!” Pleaded Pinkthulhu, probably proposing pertinent planning. “Can anyone here understand the squid?” Prodded Pinkie Posh, planting poisonous peerings towards the prodigious eldritch person. P1-NK-13 personally punched Posh’s pastern, provoking pained pronunciations from the pretentious pony. Periodically the party plummeted into prepared postulations of profound impoliteness and presumptuous persistence, Pinkie Poindexter and Pinkie Pope participating in pointedly impetuous partician, pinning Pinkie Pan and Pinkielovania in precarious posits. Pinkie Pie pounded powerfully onto the pecan ponte upon which the Pinkies placed plans to paper, predictably getting a profound pattern of pivoting polls. Pinkie Predator’s apparel providing her with a pellucid appearance. Pinkie Pie pounced upon the platform, pulling profitable prominence from her peers. “Guys, guys!” The predominant Pinkie posed, “look, I know you don’t all get along well, and I’m only supposed to call these multidimensional meetings when there’s a mega-bummer emergency, but…” Pinkie pined ponderously, “... I just missed you guys, okay? I had to see if you all wanted join in our game. Can we just get along long enough to smile?” Pinkieternity stared at the activities through her celestial orb, raising her brow at all the abundance of other Pies in the room. Pinkie #8675309 had summoned all of them, these tens of Pinkies from the Seventeenth Council of the Infiniverse, merely to ask them to join a game of no consequence? While she was no stranger to the concepts of merriment and frivolity that these mortal mares tended to engage in, she questioned the wisdom in gathering so many guardians for such things, interrupting their own stories for the sake of these innocent activities usually expected only of youthful mortals. She barely realized that Pinkosmos had glided up beside her like a soothing mist, until they placed a hoof on the curious goddess’ shoulder. “Let them be, Pinkieternity.” Pinkosmos commanded gently, subtly tugging on her younger sister’s incorporeal shoulder. “It is only the thirty of them, many more have crossed before without major collapse. Now come, Pinkietherial has need of us.” Pinkieternity gave one last glance towards the orb before it faded into nothingness, almost feeling a longing for a mortal life. She, as the other goddesses, had wished many times that they may someday experience existence with the same liveliness as the mortals, embracing every passing second as something more than a fraction of the eons. The only one of their kind to manage something near to such a feat was Pinkieclipse, transforming herself into twins that were found by a bearded wizard. Pinkieternity made a note to herself to check in on the sisters after she tends to whatever was urgent enough to raise Pinkiethereal’s concern. Author's Note That's right, boys! Rainbor: Rag in the Rock might be featuring a lot of alternate Pinkies (And an alternate of another character who's already appeared)... whenever THAT update is added! ... my brain hurts after writing this. As always, all feedback, corrections, and what have you is appreciated! Until Next Time, you know the drill. ~Amethyst Dawn ... why did I write this.
