A Gala Day Out

by ashi

Rating: everyone
Tags: Discord, Slice of Life, Sad, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Fluttershy
Length: 1583

A thousand years of imprisonment would be enough to take its toll on anypony, but the Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony is close to the end of his tether. Can the annual gala provide some welcome respite?

Over a thousand years of imprisonment in a stone statue have worn on Discord's sanity, and some would argue that it had never been in tremendous shape to begin with; a little bit of mischief is required, and the annual Grand Galloping Gala may just provide some amusement in the form of a little yellow pony.

Published 2017-09-09 21:20:07 UTC
Last updated 2017-09-09 21:20:07 UTC

1. A Fright to Forget

It was those first couple of centuries: they had been the worst; the next couple of centuries after that had been the worst, too, but now that it was coming up on close to a millennium since his initial imprisonment, Discord was rapidly reaching the conclusion that being forced to endure time passing in a sequential order was an affront to existence as he knew it and – just as soon as he got himself free from this existential horror – he would have to do something about its inexorable linear flow.

Almost. It's so close, I can almost taste it. Hm. It'll be nice to taste things again, once I get out of here. What I wouldn't give for a freshly-made cucumber sandwich with lashings of cream cheese and mayonnaise. That was always my favourite lunch food. At least, I think it was my favourite. Hard to keep track after so long.

Briefly, he recalled the day when Celestia and Luna's precious Elements of Harmony had encased him in stone; ostensibly forever, but for whatever reason the spell – if not the literal stone – was beginning to crumble around him. He'd barely noticed it at first, so subtle had it been, but he had felt the equivalent to a spring in his cognitive step these past few dozen years or so. He was, with some effort of will, able to flex the metaphorical equivalent to a pinky, not that there was much in the vicinity for him to exert any influence over. Even if he could, it wouldn't last for very long once they were out of his line-of-sight.

A few more acts of dissonance in and around Canterlot, and I should be able to hoover up all that precious negative energy to fuel my escape attempt. Seems like disharmony and discontent are on the increase again. Oh, what fun it will be to repay Princess Celestia in kind for all the years of mute torment I have suffered at her hooves!

Tonight, Discord knew that he was in for a bit of luck; the annual Grand Galloping Gala was taking place this evening, and outside of the Canterlot Film Awards, it was the place to be for petty rivalries to flair up, spiteful love affairs to blossom, and – if you were really lucky – the odd plot or two to overthrow Celestia. Not that they ever came to anything, of course, being that their complaints were nourished more by the copious amounts of free alcohol than any genuine desire for societal reform.

As night arrived, Discord sensed the ripple of clashing emotions flowing through the castle's hallways as a distant yet all-encompassing force; the proud newcomers to the event were in high spirits, of course, not realising at the moment just how disappointing the gala actually was once you were on the inside of it rather than merely looking on from the outside. Six souls, especially – souls that burned with a touch more intensity than was the norm for such ephemeral beings as little ponies – caught his mind's eye as they seemed especially delighted to be there. Those that had attended before had more varied reactions, with their sentiments ranging from cautious optimism to outright despair.

I'm only here because my wife wanted to go.

Well, it's a good opportunity to make some contacts.

It would be social death NOT to put in an appearance.

That sort of thing.

Most of the guests were concentrated in and around the elaborate, multi-tiered ballroom; sipping wine, shovelling hors d'oeuvres down their fat necks, cracking lame jokes to the humourless. If he hadn't been encased in stone, Discord knew that he could've livened up this dull party with some delicious chaos. Chocolate rain, crazy hybrid animals, maybe even an Eldritch abomination or two? The Smooze would have been perfect for just such an occasion. One of the ponies in attendance had a spirit that struck him as familiar – anarchic, random – and he detected the waves of blank incomprehension from the other guests as it strutted its stuff.

A few moments later, pony-shaped mass of pink and yellow entered the garden, distracting his attention away from the gala proper; it was adorned with some sort of green covering, though the point of it momentarily eluded Discord's understanding. It made an appalling, high-pitched squeaking noise in the back of its throat as it took in the array of animals that made the castle's copious grounds their home.

Oh. It's one of those socially-awkward ones that prefers the company of lower-order beasts to real ponies. Not that I blame it entirely for harbouring that sort of a leaning, really. After a thousand years of overhearing castle gossip, I can honestly say that I much prefer the incoherent tweets, too.

A devious thought flitted into Discord's mind and took root, causing him to break out in an enormous, conceptual smile. Truth be told, devious thoughts filled his mind at all times of the day and night, but they were usually more passive than this. Revenge schemes and the like. This one, however, he could actually act on to a limited degree and it filled the black void where his heart wasn't with joy.

Reaching out with all of his limited, slowly-recuperating might, he entered the pony's mind and sifted until he found what he was looking for: this pony had a natural affinity with animals, so much so that even the wildest of monstrosities could be tamed by it with no more than a fierce look – he made a mental note to be prepared for that, just in case – but they also had a strong desire to be accepted and appreciated, so all he had to do to cause a bit of a upheaval was reverse the polarity of the pony's abilities, and the animals would revert to their base instincts and treat it as they would anypony else: with fear and suspicion.

Discord felt his being fill with uproarious laughter as he watched the young, confused pony fruitlessly pursue the various animals across the ornate gardens; every attempt to get close caused them to scurry further away in alarm, hiding in the various nooks and crannies until it finally got fed up and moved on. He could sense the pony's anxiety and consternation growing steadily, so unused was it to being treated this way by the creatures which it loved so much. With a little flick of his mental muscles, Discord used his powers to ramp up the pony's anger and resentment – not an easy task, as its soul was purer than most, but everypony had their limits and this little one was a simmering balloon of neuroses just waiting to be popped – and watched in malevolent glee as it became a hideous, screeching monster on the verge of a full-blown, eye-twitching psychotic break.

A little bit of chaos goes a long way. When Equestria is once again under my control, this will be the new normal.

If it had been at all possible to do so, Discord would've very much liked to have fallen back on the ground at this point, clutching his stomach in agony as he worked himself up into a frenzy of impassioned giggling; instead, he simply had to settle for watching the defeated pony run itself ragged, eventually forcing the animals into the ballroom and disrupting the party for everypony else. He experienced happiness washing over him like a balm for his weary, long-trapped soul. If only it could last.

His laughing fit abruptly subsided, however, when the sudden realisation that he'd missed the rest of the gala by focusing on annoying the heck out of this one insignificant pony smacked him upside the head with all the force of a stone block. Sure, it had been fun, but he was no closer to emerging from his captivity at the end of it and he sighed inwardly. Everypony was starting to leave – some of them, curiously, still rather upbeat … as if they'd just learned an important lesson about something or other – and there was nopony near enough by that he could directly affect with his still-burgeoning powers. Fooling around just now had been more of a strain than he'd been expecting.

Darn and Tartarus! It was these kinds of sloppy mistakes that got me imprisoned in this nightmarish excuse for a living death in the first place, and here I am, a thousand years older and no wiser, still making the same stupid mistakes. So wrapped up was I in the little details, I forgot about the big picture.

Returning on this day would have been oh, so beautiful; nearly everypony who mattered would have been here, and they would have seen him vanquish Celestia and that bratty sister of hers once and for all. What a treat that would have been for them.

Oh, well, back to the drawing board. So long as nopony suspects my influence over that neurotic yellow introvert, I won't have to worry about Celestia beefing up the security around here. In fact, knowing her, she's probably forgotten all about me by now. It's been a thousand years already, and I can wait a little bit longer.

Well, maybe one of the frequent school trips to the royal gardens would provide sufficient ill-temper? There was always that one upstart foal who liked to cause a scene after all.