MINIFIC MAYHEM

by TacticalRainboom

Rating: teen
Tags: Random
Length: 10988

The contest entries for Ponychan's 400-word contest.

Fillies and colts, I am pleased to present the full list of entries for Minific Madness! The contestants were given three prompts, and were told to write fics about them that were under 400 words. These are the results.

I hope you enjoy them, except the ones that are bad. You don't have to enjoy the ones that are bad. Please read the instructions on the voting sheet before sending it in.

Picture of Best Top Laner unrelated. Send me what you think would be a better one and I'll use it. Even better, edit in the words "MINIFIC MAYHEM" somewhere and I'll love you for it and I'll use it too.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-07-19 07:24:01 UTC

Vinyl is Toast

“Vinyl?”

Vinyl Scratch looked up from the newspaper she was reading. “Yeah?” she asked.

“Could you help me out over here?” Octavia gestured towards the toaster.

Vinyl stood and trotted to her.

“My toast is stuck. Can you get it out for me?” Octavia looked at Vinyl with puppy dog eyes.

Vinyl sighed and took a knife from the drawer. She levitated it over to the toaster and jammed it in.

“Vinyl, be careful.”

“Relax, I got this,” Vinyl said with a smug.

*Zap*

Lightning came from the knife, arced through the air, and landed on Vinyl’s horn. She jerked the knife out and fell to the floor; her mane and coat were burnt to a crisp, and her eyes as big as dinner plates.

“Thanks, Vinyl.” Octavia took her toast off the knife and trotted away.

Vinyl stood, shook off the soot, and chased after her, determined to get something in return for her trouble.

Typical Pinkie... Or is it?

Twilight sat in the center of her library, an enormous pile of books sitting opposite her. A trickle of sweat slid down her face. In her mind she readied herself, repeating the process with which she would sort them.

Today was a special day, one Twilight both loved and feared. Loved for the potential efficiency it would give her; feared for the amount of concentration it took. Bigger than re-shelving day: re-categorizing day.

“This’ll help with the new assignment the princess gave me,” she reminded herself.

The magic had just begun to envelop her horn when a familiar ringing sound cut through the library. She tightened her expressions, but softened them once she remembered there was another pony in with her now.

She stood up and turned around, putting on a big smile. “Welcome to Ponyville Library, where our first priority is always…”

She would have continued, had she not screamed at the sight before her.

“Hey Twilight, how’s it goin?” Pinkie asked, oblivious to her friend’s terror

Twilight fell back on her haunches. “P-P-Pinkie…” she stuttered, eyes wide open. “Wha-wh-what is that in your head?!”

Lodged within Pinkie’s cranium above her left eye was a silver knife. Bright red blood trickled down half her face.

Pinkie rotated her eyes to see it. “Oh, this?” She flicked it once. “Isn’t it great? Rarity was talking about the newest fashions, and she told me that shiny was making a comeback, so I asked myself, what could be shinier than a knife? I couldn’t think of how to wear it at first, so I just put it right here in my noggin!”

Twilight’s mouth opened, but no words came. Her mind was still trying to process the blood, let alone the explanation for the knife itself.

“Ok, Twilight. Pinkie has a knife in her head, which should have killed her. Think, there’s got to be an explanation for this…” Her mind circled through many interesting explanations, before remembering one important fact; this was Pinkie, princess of pranks.

She stood up, slightly less wobbly than before. “Haha, that was a good one Pinkie, you really had me scared for a second there.” She walked over and began inspecting the knife. “I must say, this is a very realistic prop. I wonder how it-“

She tugged on the knife. With no resistance, Pinkie’s head popped off her neck.

“How it what, Twilight?”

Twilight fainted.

I Miss You

“This is a simple plan,” Twilight whispered to herself. “Get in and get out. Just in and out.” She chuckled nervously at her own words.

The night and her black bodysuit helped keeping her hidden as she stood under one of the many apple trees. She looked over her target: the Apple family’s house. As the final light went out in one of the windows, Twilight pulled her checklist and put a tick next to “Wait for everyone to fall asleep”, which was right under “Sneak into the Sweet Apple Acres”.

“So far so good.” She hid the list away, before letting out a sigh of relief.

She sneaked towards the door keeping herself in the shadows. With a loud creak, the door opened and Twilight poked her head in. Her ears laid back as she quickly looked around. The corridor was dark with the moon barely giving enough light to see the contour of the stairs. Twilight pulled her trusty checklist again and put another tick.

“All that planning paid off,” She chuckled to herself, trying to push away her nervousness.

Carefully placing her hooves, she headed upstairs. Once there, she looked around in the darkness, trying to remember the layout of the place. She has been studying a map of the layout for the last few nights: every corner, every door and every creaking floorboard. She took a step forward and hit what sounded like the most creaky board in the whole building. Her self-confidence immediately evaporated.

“No, no, no...” Twilight whispered. “Just one mistake, it happens...” She tried to calm herself down, only to realize how much her legs were shaking.

“Twi?” Twilight jumped as she didn’t notice the door next to her has opened and Applejack was standing in the doorway.

Before Twilight even felt the floor with her hooves again, she teleported herself herself outside. Feeling the hard ground under her hooves, she sat down, panting from the scare.

“Applejack is going to kill me,” Her ears fell and she lowered her head. “Better leave before she tries to check if she was dreaming or not.”

Twilight lift herself up, before looking up at the house. She levitated her checklist and put a big cross next to “Retrieve Miss Smarty Pants”.

Not That Kind of Service

“I’m gonna order some snacks,” Vinyl Scratch said, trotting over to the phone and levitating it up to her ear. “Hello, room service? I’d like a medium pepperoni pizza delivered to my room.”

Octavia turned the television on.

“My room number? It’s 142... Okay, bye.”

Vinyl hung up the phone and trotted over to Octavia. “What’cha watchin’?”

“Equestrian Pickers.”

Vinyl scoffed. “That sounds dumb. Lemme see what else is on.” Vinyl reached for the remote.

“No, I like this show.” Octavia held it out of Vinyl’s reach.

“C’mon, please?” Vinyl was almost on top of Octavia.

“No!” Octavia tossed it aside.

The remote control stopped in mid air and flew onto Vinyl’s hoof, a light blue aura surrounding it. “I got it!” In her moment of victory, Vinyl lost concentration and collapsed on Octavia’s body.

A door opened. “Room service!” She stopped, looked at the two ponies, and blinked. “I’ll come back when you’re done,” she said, sheepishly.

“Wait!” shouted Vinyl.

But the room service shut the door before she could hear her.

Midnight Feeding

The sounds of crying woke Octavia from her sleep. “Vinyl?” She rolled over to see that her wife was fast asleep. “Vinyl!” she said, firmly nudging her in the ribcage.

“Huh-wha?” said Vinyl Scratch, sitting up, still half asleep.

“Dubstep’s awake,” Octavia whispered.

“Okay, go see what she wants,” whispered Vinyl as she lay back down.

“Hey, you’re the one with the magical unicorn horn. If she’s hungry, I can’t give Dubstep her bottle with these.” She held out her hooves.

Vinyl’s eyes shot open as she turned to face her. “Then how do you play the cello?”

“You know that’s a special bow, made especially for earth ponies.” Octavia frowned.

Realizing that she’d lost the argument, Vinyl rose and trotted out of the room.

Out of Context

The impossible stood where naught had been the night before. Looming over the Everfree forest on its innumerable spidery legs of steel. Its proboscis glittering in the afternoon sun. In a swift motion it would dip into the earth, mosquito like, only to rise again. Earth and vegetation crumbling away from its metallic jaws. Even from the relative safety of Ponyville its deceptively graceful movements shook the earth. Those who first saw it mistook it for some beast. Twilight soon corrected. Machine.

But from where? No Pony could build such a device. Its form was devoid of magic. It had no harmony with the earth. How absurd to build such with only bare hooves or paws or talons!

A small contingent of pony-folk had gathered in the field that buffered Ponyville from the forest. Each discussing what should be done, or could be done, about the hulking contraption.

"Maybe we could reason with it, it had to have come from somewhere, and it's been particularly careful about avoid..."

Twilight began to speculate further, but Rainbow Dash had other ideas,

"I say we smash it!"

Fluttershy flinched away from her boisterous fellow pegasi.

"I-if it can be reasoned with, m-maybe we could ask it to not be so loud?"

Applejack just gave Rainbow Dash a knowing look. "Eeyup. I reckon RD is right. I mean c'mon Twilight, a machine that thinks? That's silly!"

“Well, maybe it doesn’t think like we do,” Twilight giggled at AJ. A dear friend, yes. But still something of a rube. “In Canterlot we had tabulating machines to help us collect census data. We’ve imagined that more complex machines are possible, bu...”

“We don’t need a lecture Twi! Just lemme fly closer for a better look!”

Rainbow Dash had been getting more and more agitated the entire time, nimbly dancing from hoof to hoof. Her hooves barely touched the ground.

Twilight sighed, “if you must, just be careful!”

Rainbow Dash practically lept through the air at no further prompt from Twilight. She sped off through the air with a lingering and rather sarcastic, “Yes mom!”

Applejack gave Twilight a concerned look, “Ah hope she comes back alright. That thing... that thing just ain’t natural!”

A nearby bubble-flanked pegasi giggled, “I think it’s from space!”

Into the Sky

In the falling, in the sky, and in her eyes searching 'cross the plains of death's glare her fate hid, waiting in follies' guise. Went the fabric on the wings, flare, flare! Went the wooden frame, burning, burning! Went the pilot, charred and broken bone. Light and life faded. The ruckus died.

"Meh, er—"

"Oh, hey, she's waking up!" a voice called out.

Scootaloo grimaced at the noise.

"Calm down, Sweetie. Shoutin' won't help."

"Apple Bloom?" Scootaloo opened her eyes to see her friends standing a leg's length away from her. She was in a medical ward somewhere, lying in a cot. Her legs felt too heavy to move under the blue linens lain over her.

Apple Bloom gave her a wan, sympathetic glance, the trace of a smile tugging at her damp face. Sweetie Belle took a few paces back. She tugged at a scarf around her neck and looked away from Scootaloo.

"They said you were going to die," Sweetie muttered. Scootaloo hazarded a chuckle, but it came out weak and without humor.

"Well, I'm fine now, right?"

"Ah, looks like you're awake," said an unfamiliar voice. The three mares looked up to see a silver-blue unicorn in scrubs walk through the door. "Hm, yes." He levitated a clipboard at the foot of Scootaloo's cot while adjusting a pair of spectacles on the bridge of his nose. "Miss-?"

"Scootaloo."

"Right, right." The unicorn sounded anxious. He replaced the clipboard and hesitated. "You're alive," he began. There was the shadow of a laugh in his eyes. "But, there's a few things you need to know."

She winced as the mechanism was cinched and ratcheted onto the stub that had once been her leg. There was a nuanced beauty in the simplicity of the steel-plated machine, in the way it was shaped, in the way it whirred.

"That should do'er," said Apple Bloom, dropping the small wrench from her mouth.

"Cutie Mark Crusaders Daredevil Cyborg a go?" joked Scootaloo.

"C-M-C-D-C is a go," acknowledged Apple Bloom with a titter. Sweetie and Apple Bloom watched as their friend took a tentative step with the aid of her new leg, balancing with a few flaps of her wings.

The pegasus, more sure of herself now, leapt and glided across the field before barreling into the other two. The three shared a giggle and a hug.

Voices at the Pool

Octavia stepped into the water of the inn’s outdoor pool. “Ahh,” she said, leaning against the side of the tub.

*Tap* *Tap* *Tap*

Octavia looked around; in the darkness of the night, she couldn’t find the source of the sound.

Octavia~

Octavia shivered. “Y-yeah?”

I know you’re out there~

“Where are you?” She sank down into the water.

“Over here!” The pony leapt out of the darkness and landed in with a splash.

Vinyl Scratch poked her head out of the water and snickered.

“What? Vinyl?” Octavia frowned.

“Aww... C’mon Tavi.” She splashed a little water at her.

Before the wave could hit her, Octavia dived under the water and swam behind Vinyl.

“Octavia?” she could hear Vinyl say from under the water.

Octavia sprang out of the pool and tackled Vinyl, the two of them hitting the water with a splash. When she looked at how Vinyl’s wet mane covered her face, Octavia burst out in laughter. Vinyl laughed with her.

“*Gasp* Vinyl, look!” Octavia pointed a hoof at her wife. “Your hair dye is leaking into the water!”

“Huh? What?” Vinyl looked around at the water. “Hey! I don’t dye my mane!”

Giggling like a school filly, Octavia sent a current of water at Vinyl’s face.

The two splashed water at each other a while. Eventually the lifeguard saw them and said, “Hey!” They stopped what they were doing and looked at her. “No fooling around in the pool!”

Vinyl and Octavia got out of the pool and trotted back to their room, their heads hanging low.

Half-Baked Musings

Life is oh, so cruel.

Here I sit, my body a thick mess of fluid, churned together by a mish-mash of components whose sole purpose was to give me form. Not for my sake, but for the sake of my creators, whoever they may be. I was only just brought into this world, and within one short hour, I shall be gone.

I search for an escape, yet my amorphous figure does not provide a means for movement. Indeed, if it did, their wonderful invention might slip away without having provided them the delectable pleasure they seeked.

My container is lifted, and I slosh around against the steel walls. A door creaks open with a metallic squeal, and I am set down on a cold rack. I count the moments until my prison is sealed, signalling the countdown to my evolution and eventual destruction.

With a final slam, the door is shut. Several moments later, a stifling heat envelops the air, creeping into my fluid form and slowly causing it to harden.

Will my life have purpose? Is providing mere moments of enjoyment to another being worth such torture? At this point, the heat is causing my insides to scream in agony as my body makes its way towards the pinnacle of sweet perfection.

Goodbye, world.

Ding!

Pinkie slammed open the oven door, grabbing the pan and dropping it onto the counter before giving the cake a few tentative pokes with her hoof. The dessert had been baked for just long enough, its surface a crisp golden-brown color with just the right amount of firmness.

"Hey, Twilight?" Pinkie eyed the cake curiously, putting a hoof to her chin.

"What is it, Pinkie?" Twilight trotted over to the counter, levitating a tube of pink frosting next to the pan.

Pinkie gave the dessert another poke. "I've made LOTS of cakes before, and they've all been super delicious... but do you think I'm hurting them when I eat them?"

Twilight burst out laughing. "Come on, Pinkie, cakes can't feel! They aren't sentient creatures."

"Hehe, you're right! I guess it was silly of me to think that!" A goofy grin spread across Pinkie's face as she grabbed a tube of frosting.

Encoded

She tossed and turned. Nopony would blame her for having trouble sleeping with her odd schedule, but she’d never had a problem with it. A blanket of silence clung to every surface of the room as though the walls themselves were enchanted to keep noise out. For all she knew, that was the case. It didn’t matter. For weeks now, she’d had problems.

No matter how thick the curtains or quiet the hall, something would find a way to keep her awake: thinking of something insignificant, like trying to remember what she’d eaten, or feeling guilt over something petty, like a bout of jealousy over her sister’s good fortune. She didn’t want to worry anypony over such silliness, and so nopony realized anything was wrong.

But the lack of rest was beginning to take its toll on her.  She felt out of sorts and became quicker to anger than she’d like.  She even suffered some minor hallucinations that she shook off and ignored, but they were nothing more than her mind playing inkblots with shadows.

Still, sleep always eventually found her.  What was different today?  She rose to her hooves.  A light snack wouldn’t hurt.  She informed her guard of her intent and trotted down the hall.  She trotted past a window and shielded her bleary eyes from the fierce afternoon sun.  She could swear she heard the night itself calling to her.

The Apple of my Red Eyes

The front door opened and Octavia stepped through. “Vinyl, could you help me put away the groceries?” she asked, setting down her saddle bag onto the table.

“Sure.” Vinyl’s horn glowed, and the food started to float out of the bag and onto the counter. She poked through the bag and said, “Oh, apples.” Raising one on her hoof, she opened her mouth and took a bite.

“Ugh!” Vinyl spat out the bits of fruit. “Where did you get these?!”

“The craft store,” said Octavia, frowning.

“What?” Vinyl turned to her.

“They’re wax fruit.”

Playing Dress-Up

Another satisfied customer left Carousel Boutique, carrying a piece of unique finery in her saddlebag. Pinkie Pie bounced past in the opposite direction, coming up behind an unaware Rarity and continuing to hop in place.

Rarity swept broad pencil strokes across her pad as she sketched a new design, brushing a hoof absentmindedly at a smudge. It repeatedly escaped her, and she finally realized that it was a shadow flitting across her desk. Turning around to discern its source, she found herself staring at a grinning pink face.

“Hi!”

Holding a hoof to her chest as she shrieked, Rarity backed into her desk and toppled it to the floor.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to scare you!” Pinkie helped her up, smiling sheepishly.

“Think nothing of it, dear,” Rarity said, levitating the furniture back into place. “Here for the finished product?” Pinkie nodded so hard that it nearly gave Rarity a headache to watch. “I have your dress right here. Please excuse the mess; I’ve simply been too busy keep everything in order.”

Pinkie squinted at a few scraps of ribbon on the work table; the room was otherwise spotless. Shrugging, she walked with Rarity to a rack at the back of the room. A pink, silken masterpiece hung there, with nightingales and lotus flowers in the pattern, pearl beadwork, and a simple hem short enough for dancing.

Gasping, Pinkie held her hooves to her cheeks. “That will be perfect for the Manechurian ambassador’s party!”

Rarity gave a satisfied sigh, rummaging through a bin for some bauble that would add the proper punctuation to her latest opus. “Ah! I have just the thing!” She extracted a jade brooch carved in the shape of a chrysanthemum. “You use this to fasten the collar.”

She demonstrated, flaring the dress over Pinkie’s back and pinning it. “I made this especially for you.”

“I know, and I love it so very much!”

Pinkie was no exception. Nopony ever saw the whole, unvarnished truth. After all, how does one wrap a friend in the luxuriant fabric of one's love, not only pleasing the eye, but granting her that beautifully warm lightness of knowing how closely, fiercely her friendship is treasured?

Pinkie pranced in front of the mirror, eyes shining with reflected splendor, but oblivious to the cloak overlying it all.

A wistful sigh and a subdued smile said what they always did: Next time, perhaps.

The Voice of Reason

Derpy stirred a few crushed walnuts into her bowl of batter before mashing two bananas and adding them to the mix. One more dash of cinnamon, nutmeg, and... there! She picked up the bowl and headed over to where her muffin pan sat on the counter.

As one eye trailed off, Derpy teetered to the side and caught a leg on the corner of the table, aher crashing to the floor. She scrambled to swipe the upended bowl’s oozing contents back inside. Fortunately, she kept the floor spotless for just such an occurrence.

A familiar hushed voice floated through her mind. What’s wrong with you, Derpy? Can’t you do anything right?

“Are you okay, mom? That smells delicious!” called Dinky from the next room.

“Yes, dear.” How that filly got her impeccable sense of timing, Derpy would never know. “It’s okay. Keep going on your homework.” She poured the batter over the pan’s individual depressions, then wiped up the remaining mess with a rag.

“Mom, I’m having trouble with this reading assignment. Can you help?”

Of course you can’t. When were you ever good at homew—

“You always take your time explaining it to me. You don’t rush me like everypony else.”

Derpy smiled as she slid the pan into the oven and set the timer. Maybe Dinky would get one of those hourglass cutie marks that seemed so popular. “Sure, Dinky.” She strolled into the adjoining room and sat beside her daughter, her eyes sparkling as she grinned.

“What’s this word mean? Aurum,” Dinky said, testing its feel as she scrunched up her face.

“Oh. That’s an old word for ‘gold,’ sweetie.”

“Like your eyes!” Dinky said, breaking into a wide grin.

Those horrible things? Who could—

“I love your eyes! They always sparkle and make me feel warm.” Dinky reached up and hugged her mother’s neck, her ears perking up.

Derpy sat there stunned for a moment before returning the gesture. “You’re getting better at that,” she said, tousling Dinky’s mane.

“Better at what?” Dinky asked, her brow creased.

“Never mind. Why don’t we eat our muffins outside today? The weather’s beautiful.” Smiling, Derpy leaned in for another hug. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Nopony lo—

“I love you, mom.”

“I know. I love you too.” She hugged Dinky even more tightly.

At Close of Day

Luna gave a last mighty wingstroke to land softly on the secluded hilltop. She looked over the outskirts of Ponyville, where several families were still enjoying the evening’s warmth in the park. It would be one of their last chances as the calendar stretched toward autumn. Time for things to end and begin the long wait for renewal.

As if reading her thoughts, an equally dark pony appeared, though she hadn’t heard him approach. “Greetings, Princess,” he said, settling down into the grass. “Beautiful day.”

She shrugged, casting a distracted glance at a group of fillies playing tag. Sighing, she said, “And how have you been?”

“Oh, I have steady work.” He chuckled as he watched a suppressed shudder run through her body. “Are you sure you enjoy my company?”

“It is nothing personal... I do not mean any offense.” As she flashed a small smile, Luna finally lay down.

He snorted and shook his head. “We’ve had some great discussions. You have a beautiful philosopher’s heart. I wouldn’t have expected that.”

Now it was Luna’s turn to laugh. “One tends to become introspective during exile. I did appreciate your visits. I must confess that I had considered asking you to take me away from there.” She drew her lips into a taut line.

Regarding her with renewed interest, he turned to face her. “You must know that wouldn’t have worked. And you were a deep thinker even before that whole mess happened, as I recall.”

“Perhaps.” Her ears pricked to the faint, dry rustling of a hundred hushed voices.

“Do you hear them? Their thoughts, hopes, dreams?”

“Only when I am with you.” Luna gazed pointedly at the romping foals. “Who is next?”

“Heh,” he said, watching a rainbow streak across the sky. “I can never stray too far from that one.” He brushed off her glare. “You know I can’t answer that,” he replied with an amused smirk. “Tell you what, though. I’ll indulge you. Ask something else—you know where the line is.”

Luna stared at the horizon for a moment. “Will there be any more tonight?”

“No. No more,” he said, following her gaze to where the sun had just touched the distant treetops. “Don’t you have to work soon?”

“Yes. I regret I have not been very good company today.” She rose amid the resuming whispers in the fading light. “Same time next week?”

Death nodded.

Absolutely Anonymous

Spike huddled at a desk in the corner of the library, hunching his shoulders up to shield his scroll from as much of the room as possible. A steady stream of subdued giggles floated away as he looped his quill across the page in his neat, flowing script. His teeth clenched in a giddy smile, he glanced up occasionally to survey the room and make sure nopony would intrude upon his solitude.

The gallant and youthful dragon smote the last of the marauding changelings, swishing his rapier through the air with a flourish. “Thou hast saved us all from certain demise, hero! Whatever thou desirest for a reward, thou hast but to name it,” quoth the grateful Princess.

“A mere touch of thy lips would prove ample remuneration, my liege,” the dragon said, drawing his arm across his body in a sweeping bow.

She raised his chin with a hoof and pressed her muzzle to him, perhaps a little longer than protocol might dictate. “Methinks ’twill not be the last such reward,” Celestia said, a sly smile playing across her features.

“Heh. That one is so money,” Spike said as he rolled the scroll up and added it to the growing pile. He picked the last blue spinel from the dish of gems beside him and popped it in his mouth, his eyes watering as he shuddered. “Whoa! Those’ll clear out your sinuses!”

Sliding a form out from under his scrolls, he said, “Let’s see. Ponyville Bad Fiction Contest. Four-hundred-word limit, check. Up to six entries, check. Heh. I’ve got this sewn up. Nopony writes a bad Celestia romance like I can.” Wringing his claws, he gave an evil little laugh.

“These babies go out first thing in the morning,” he said, slapping an address label on a small box. “Ooh,” he added as he pounded a claw against his chest and hiccupped, “those spinels aren’t sitting quite right.”

He resumed his seat to make a final editing pass, his head slowly dipping as the minutes dragged on.

Spike awoke the next morning with a burning sensation in his throat. He rubbed his eyes, which shot wide open when he saw the nearly empty desktop covered with scorch marks. One more bolt of flame erupted as he hiccupped, sending the final scroll off toward Canterlot. Seconds later, a resonant yell roused Twilight from a sound sleep.

Treehouse of Horror

Warning: graphic horror themes. -Tactical

Fluttershy stepped into her home, the feeble flame of her small lantern barely piercing the gloom. One hoof at a time came over the threshold, gingerly testing to see if the unseen floor was still there. A few timid paces in, she felt a cobweb brush across her face. Shrieking, she backed toward the door, but it slammed behind her and sealed her in.

“Oh—oh, my,” she said in a tremulous voice, fiddling with the doorknob and pounding on the windowpanes. “I-is anypony there? Hello? Please let me out!”

Something scrabbled across the floor in the darkness as a faint, breathy chuckle sounded. “Who—who’s there?” Sweeping her light around, Fluttershy tried desperately to discern something, anything in the oppressive darkness, but curling tendrils of fog just reflected the glow back at her.

Peering forward, she stumbled over an object on the floor and swung her lantern down to investigate. Sweetie Belle’s lifeless eyes stared back, a large kitchen knife protruding from her back.

Fluttershy backed away, holding a hoof to her mouth to stifle a scream. She hit the wall and stood there trembling, then noticed a warm liquid dripping on her shoulder. Lifting up her light, she saw Apple Bloom’s bleeding body, trussed up among the ceiling beams with rope.

She gave up all pretense of stealth and ran into the kitchen, heart pounding. She stopped short by the stove, where a pot of carrots and potatoes was boiling. Beside it on the counter lay a maple cutting board, Angel’s limp form draped across it.

“Would you like some rabbit stew? It’s fresh,” said a voice from the darkness. Gradually, the shadows coalesced into a hunched-over figure, the blade in its hoof glinting.

“N-no! Angel!” Fluttershy sank to the floor and held up a foreleg for whatever protection it might suffice.

“You know, when a pegasus can’t fly, it can make her crazy. Very crazy,” Scootaloo said as she emerged into the lantern’s glow. “And she just might do crazy things.” She stood for a moment with a wicked, toothy grin before lunging.

Fluttershy caught her in a hug as the other two fillies ran into the room. “Happy Nightmare Night!” they all cried.

“Hehe! Good rehearsal, girls! But, um... I could see you breathing, Angel.” He sat up and glared. “Oh! Get back in your places!” Fluttershy said, glancing toward the window. “Here comes Rainbow Dash...”

Descent

        The blackness was coming, the ever-approaching dark that no candle could light and that her voice could not escape. It had already painted the entire room in a blank, light-absorbing void, leaving her pressed against the cold brick wall. When she tried to call for help, her voice was swallowed by the darkness and reflected back as otherworldly murmurs. Hissing, bubbling, breathy whispers filled the air. She felt like she was inhaling ghosts whenever she forced her lungs to suck in another breath, and every time she did she saw the darkness edge in just a little further, shrinking her island of sanity, which was already almost too small for her to stand on. As the darkness crept closer, the voices became clearer. She heard laughter.. anger... sorrow... many voices forming a cacophony of madness. Abruptly, she turned her back on the void and turned to the only thing remaining in the room, the wall. She couldn't look into the emptiness any more. The wall was normal. With a long, shuddering breath, she closed her eyes. Even now it would be touching her hooves, crawling over everything until there was nothing left...

        When she opened her eyes again, the wall was gone. She looked down at her body, and she was still there, the same cool pink-purple coat, the same violet mane. She walked forward, and did not bump into the wall. She kept walking through a field of deep emptiness. Soon she could see grass under her feet, and it was a welcome change from walking on black space. She saw a house floating in the air, and walked towards it. Ponyville was forming itself out of nothing, lit and visible under a black sky. The sun appeared, and she was happy to see the town in natural light. then the moon appeared, throwing its cool glow over this strange world. Then came the sun again, shining on pink clouds and hovering trees. She looked down and realized she was flying. It felt good. It felt free. She turned in the air, made a silly face, and laughed because everything was okay. As she turned a happy somersault, she caught a glance of her own flanks. Her mane was tinged with pure white, and her cutie mark had changed to some kind of white ball, next to a carpenter's screw.

Invisible Warfare

        She'd done it hundreds, thousands of times now, so at this point Redshift had given up on  ever getting used to the click of a heavy cable being plugged into her neck and the tiny shudder that always came when the connection went live. The transition was smooth; it always was. The world faded out and the network faded in seamlessly. She still had feeling in her limbs—simulated feeling, of course—and she could even blink and cough and stretch. That little shiver lasted all of thirty seconds, but it was enough to remind her for the next hour that everything she saw was being fed to her brain through a cable in her spinal cord.

All right, I'm in, she pinged to the unicorn on her HUD. Before her, the network was laid out before her, shimmering pathways and pulsating open nodes under a starry sky of protocols and scripts. She made sure to sound as grouchy as possible as she talked to Wrench, so that even that ruster's rig could pick up the kinesics. Let's get this over with.

C'mon, show some enthusiasm, the little prick replied in his nasal whine. Not every day you get to totally slag a net this nice. It's like a nice clean room, begging for some violent remodeling.

        Redshift didn't have it in her to properly insult him. I'm heading for 52.61.35, she pinged. I'm gonna expect you slice your node perfectly 'cause we're gonna need to be all aces for this. Grok?

Grok, Wrench replied happily. The little shit.

        Redshift's hooves blurred as she galloped towards her target node. Some of the stars above swooped down to make some kind of attempt to stop her. A smirk crossed Red's simulated features as they dove close, only to be shattered in mid-air, breaking themselves against her rear hooves in a shower of sparks. She skidded to a halt, glancing around for more trouble—a multi-stage barrier perhaps—and of course there was nothing to see. In the lull, she allowed herself a glance at her own body. Her avatar's legs were as toned and as battle-ready as always. And, as always, the sight made her smile, an expression that was increasingly reserved for when her face was made of data and not flesh. Runner's legs, fighter's legs, like she'd had a few years ago. The Net wasn't all bad after all.

Journey to the City of Fire

This fic… isn’t actually a fic at all.

Weird, I know. It might seem like it is, with all the colorful ponies running around, doing various things that are in no way guided by any sort of prompt, but trust me, it isn’t.

Even when Twilight and her friends go on a magical quest to discover the lost City of Fire, guided only by a map she found in a corner of her library, this is by no means a fic.

To prove to you why not, let us go through the basic materials that any fic in its right mind (which this isn’t) would require. The first thing a fic needs is a title, and this work, as it shall now be called, does no… wait… it has a title? “Journey to the City of Fire”? How long has it had that?

Well, that’s just minor a detail. There are plenty more points that prove this isn’t a work of fanfiction. For example, fiction requires a plot, no matter how basic, and I fail to see….

What was that? Paragraph 2? Hold on a… oh, it does have a plot. I even told you the plot myself. That was foolish of me.

Nonetheless, I remain stalwart in my belief. There is no action, a concept that should exist in all…

CRASH!

Oh what is it now? What? That was Rainbow Dash, getting thrown into the building by a fire golem? She just took your shoe to use as a weapon? Well that’s not going to get her very far, now is it?

Where was I? There does appear to be a miniscule amount of action. But, no work of fiction would be at all complete without a theme, and…

Now hold on a minute. What? What do you mean they are all being tempted by their wildest dreams, yet are finding them to not be worth the love of their friends? Are you trying to tell me they already got to the middle of the story? How are they even moving this quickly anyway?

Oh for the love of…! Are there no means by which they will not use to spoil my ranting? But I’m not done yet! There is one thing this work does not have, and it never shall, for it lacks…

They already defeated the king of the golems and rescued the Ether Princess, didn’t they?

The Play's the Thing

Dear Princess Celestia,

Regarding “the incident” last night: allow me to shed some light on how it came to happen, which I think will show that everyone involved was a victim of circumstance, and that nobody needs to be banished anywhere (please).

Cheerilee’s class has been preparing to put on a play about the life of Neighbraham Lincolt, and being the only friendly dragon within a hundred miles, Spike was asked to play the role of his assassin.  Spike was very excited to be part of the production, and I spent many hours helping him practice his lines.  Well, line, but nevermind that.

Unfortunately, he came down with a terrible cold the day of the show.  Poor Spike was snuffling and sneezing all afternoon, and I feared he would be unable to perform.  But he is a little trooper, and refused to even consider the possibility of letting an understudy play the part.

I got him into costume and stood backstage with him, but things only went from bad to worse.  It was very dusty back there, and he was soon in quite a dreadful state.  His eyelids were so swollen from the dust that he could hardly see a thing!  I practically begged him to let me take him home then, but he was adamant that “The show must go on!”  And after how much work he’d put in, I couldn't say no.  Instead, I pointed him in the right direction as his scene approached, and told him to head right back the way he’d come when he’d delivered his line.

What happened next, I can only speculate.  As Spike ran onstage, he simply vanished.  I suspect he must have tried to hold in a sneeze; I know you’ve told him never to do that, but he can surely be forgiven for not wanting to ruin his dramatic entrance, can’t he?  In any case, I now know why you told him to never “censor his emissions.”

I didn’t learn what became of him until I read the newspaper this morning.  In light of what I’ve explained, I hope you will now understand why Spike appeared in front of you last night in court, shouted “Sic semper tyrannis!,” hurled a pie in your face, and then turned and ran to your prime minister, crying, “There, I did it!  Aren’t you proud of me?”

Your faithful, fearful student,

Twilight Sparkle

YE VOTING FORM

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheet/viewform?formkey=dHg5UEZwTy0zT2tndzFRUlc1aEZHcUE6MQ

Don't leave constructive criticism on this. That was funny ONE time.

Big Mac Gets a Date

Applejack narrows her eyes as she watches Twilight leave the farm for the third time this week. Normally, seeing her bookish friend around would warm her heart, but the way she was clinging to that hug with her brother made her feel mighty uneasy.

Taking matters into her own hooves, Applejack trotted up to her brother, her eyes still narrowed suspiciously. As she approached him, he just gave a simple nod.

“And jest what do ya think you’re doin’ with Twi’?” she asked, a hint of anger in her voice.

“Applejack, t’ain’t what it looks like--” he started.

“Oh yeah? Then what was it? Twi’ is mah friend, and you’re mah brother, and I don’t want nopony gettin’ hurt.”

“There ain’t nothin’ to be worked up over. It’s not what you think, Twilight was just--”

“Just what? Tryin’ to seduce ya?”

“Applejack...” Big Macintosh sighed. “I ain’t even inta mares.”

“I... uh, what?” Applejack was slack-jawed, taken aback at her brother's sudden coming out.

“Twilight was helpin’ me get a date together. She came by to me that she got one set up with Pokey Pierce, that colt that works at Pins and Needles. Ah was just thanking her, that’s all.”

Applejack kicked the ground, ashamed. “Ah’m sorry, big brother. Ah just let mahself get carried away. But Ah’m mighty proud of ya for tellin’ me, and Ah hope ya have a good time.” She smiled, and gave her brother a quick hug.

Infiltration

All he could think about was the smell.

“Why did I go this way?” the grey stallion thought to himself as he trekked through the dark corridor, though he knew the reason why. This was the only route that was unguarded, and for good reason. Even with his gas mask, he still had the impression that the smell was all the security they’d need. Nopony with any sense of smell would last longer than five minutes in here.

Nopony, at least. There was still a chance they would be here. They wouldn’t be bothered by this odor at all, and their presence would cause no small amount of trouble for his plans.

A slight buzzing in his wrist called his attention away from his thoughts. He brought his hoof in front of his face. With a thought, his hoof began to disassemble, revealing the complex machinery beneath. A part of this machinery projected a 3D image of a mare inches above his hoof.

“I’ll never get used to that,” he thought.

The image spoke in a near-likeness of the actual pony’s voice. “Crosswire, what’s your current status?”

“Annoyed. I still can’t believe that you couldn’t find some other way for me to get in. It reeks to high hell down here.”

“This is the only route into The Factory that has no surveillance. Unless, of course, you’d rather go through the tanks and turret zeppelins.”

“I think I’d rather go through those than those god-awful abominations.” He looked over his shoulder as if they were listening.

“Don’t worry about them. They’re too big to fit into that corridor. Once you get into the main building, you don’t have to go far to your destination. If the virus works like it should, you should have a clear path out of there.”

“I know that. I was paying attention during the briefing,” he said proudly.

“Right,” she remarked, having seen that act many times before. He was just about to turn the transmitter off when she muttered one more line. “Just… be careful for me, alright?”

He grinned lightly underneath his mask. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”

The image smiled before vanishing into the mechanics of his hoof.

“Right. Now then…”

He had taken one step, when from the other end of the corridor there rang a horrible metallic roar, resounding off the pipes surrounding him.

He sighed. “Too big, she says.”

Twilight's Guts

Pain overwhelmed, Twilight's vision blurring as darkness closed in around the edges.

I can't believe this is the end for me.  I had so much left to do...

A sob caught in her throat.  Visions of Celestia, Shining Armor, her friends and Spike flashed through her mind.

Don't give up, Twilight!  You can figure something out!

She swallowed, wrenched her eyes open, and looked down at herself.  And that's when things got weird.

Her abdomen had been torn open, a certainly fatal wound.  Yet what looked like blood at first glance was more viscous and smelled of tomatoes.  Her intestines spilled out of her, but they were cold and yellowish, and not tubes at all.  There were also little colorful bits mixed in amongst the various other substances.

Having studied more than a few treatises on pony anatomy, Twilight was pretty certain that ponies were not in fact filled with ketchup, sprinkles and cold spaghetti.

"What in the hay?" It was perhaps not the proper response, but it was all she could think to say.

The pain stopped, her vision recovered.  Testing a leg, she found it not shaky at all, and stood.  The fake guts slid off, revealing her belly to be whole, if ketchupy.

"What in Equestia is going on?"

"Didja like it, Twilight?  Huh, huh?"

Twilight recoiled with a shout as Pinkie Pie bounced into her personal space.

"Pinkie, what's going on?"

Pinkie tapped Twilight's horn.  "You said that you were having a bad day and needed to spill your guts to me about something.  But that sounded painful and gross, so I thought I'd make fake guts instead so you wouldn't get hurt!"

Twilight's mouth hung open.  "Pinkie..."

"Of course, I don't know what guts look like, so I made stuff up!  Then I added sprinkles for extra fun, because sprinkles make everything better!"

"Pinkie..." Twilight's eye twitched.

"So do you feel any better, Twilight?  Did I do a good job?"

Twilight slapped her face with one hoof and shoved the other in her friend's mouth.  "Well... whatever it was that was bothering me, I've certainly forgotten it now.  But if all of that was fake, why was I in so much pain?"

Pinkie spat the hoof out. "Oh, that's easy!  You kept moving around, so I knocked you out first!"  She grinned, pleased with herself.

"I..." Twilight's eyes threatened to pop.  "Nevermind, Pinkie.  Just, nevermind."

One Truth

One Truth

        “We have done the final checks professor.” The young technician glanced over at her professor, a gleam twinkling in her eyes, “are you sure you want to go through with this?”

        “Yes,” the tall woman replied back. “Only generating a pulse on such a magnificent scale will free us from the tyranny that has imprisoned our mind and bodies.”

        The technician only nodded, she turned her head back to her computer, and began the final preparations. With a few swift strokes of the keyboard and the machine in front of them whirled to life; while other technicians were busy watching the various gauges and monitors, ensuring all went to plan.

        ~The die has been cast.~ The professor thought to herself as the machine howled, the crackling of electricity growing louder as each capacitor began to charge. ~I will fly into the face of fate tonight. I will prove that this world is nothing but an illusion. We are all prisoners to this code, and I will set us free.~

        “All capacitors are at 50% capacity, readings are green.” The technician droned on.

        ---

        (One Year ago)

        “Professor Silversun I regret to inform you that your research has henceforth been terminated. Please gather your belongings from the department and-”

        “Fool!” The professor lashed back, “can't you see it, the evidence is all around us! I just need a year, I can crack this program. I can prove that this world is nothing bu-”

        “We have had enough of your nonsensical rantings,” the dean looming overhead snapped back, “Take your belongings and leave.”

        ---

        “Everything you know about your world is a lie. I can prove it too.

Grant Computer lab, 11:42 PM

-The Teal Strings”

        ---

        (Present Day)

        “Professor!” the technician had a panicked look on her face, the machine in front of them howling menacingly, “It's ready, once we do this. There is no going back.”

        ~It's do or die at last,~ and Silversun pushed the 'enter' button. The machine screamed as it released a 3 Terrawatt EMP wave, and the world went dark.

        ---

        “Wa-where am I?” The professor groaned. Shocked to be in a world alien and reminiscent of a beehive.

        “Welcome to Equestria, Silversun” Lyra responded, pulling the new unicorn out of the honeycomb she was in. “Welcome to changeling hive.”

For Science!

        “Don’t worry Rainbow, the process will be completely painless. All you have to do is stand in there and let me operate.” Said Twilight Sparkle. Before her, stood a tall machine; big enough to contain an adult pony.

        Rainbow Dash could only stare warily at the strange contraption. She put a hoof forward, inside it and backed right away. With pleading eyes she turned to Rarity who helped Twilight set up the strange device.

        “Come on Rarity, are you sure you don’t want to do this? This seems to be more like your kind of stuff.”

        “Oh darling, I know what you mean, but I already know the machine works well on me. To test it, we need someone who rougher. Like you or Applejack. And since it is applebuck season, you were the only one available.” Rarity replied with a flicker of her mane.

        Twilight started pushing Rainbow toward the machine. An enthusiastic smile adorning her face as she encouraged her friend to help. “And think about it Rainbow, you are doing this for science!”

        With loud groan, Dash went completely inside the machine. “Can I at least know what this machine does?”

        “Oh, you will know soon enough.” Replied Twilight; and without losing a second, she adjusted multiple dials and pressed a large red button.

        The machine hummed lightly as it slowly activated itself. Suddenly, sounds of cog turning, spring springing and metal banging emerged from the box. After a forty seconds process, the machine stopped and its door opened; allowing an horrified Rainbow Dash to come out. She slowly passed a hoof in her now silky smooth mane, she took a look at her brightly shining tail and shook with terror.

        Twilight and Rarity on the other hoof were ecstatic. “It works! The auto-mane-o-tron works! Even her tangled mane couldn’t resist it!” They cheered together.

        Rarity then looked at Rainbow and added “No pun intended Rainbow Dash, but you are simply… Dashing!”

        “My life is ruined!”  Dash bellowed in response.

        “FOR SCIENCE!”

Forever Dummy

Twilight shuffled and dealt the cards, then telekinetically picked up her own hand.  Only six high-card points, and no length in any suit.  “Pass,” she groused, unable to resist muttering “again” under her breath.

Lyra looked up from her cards, giving Twilight a glare she had perfected since they’d started playing bridge together; a look which said, “Your tone of voice is offering clues about your hand’s value, and while I know you aren’t trying to cheat, that’s exactly what you’re doing.  Now quit whining, it isn’t like you’ve never seen a bad hand before.  We all have, so deal with it.”  She’s got some awfully specific facial expressions, Twilight idly observed as Lyra passed as well.

Rarity quickly glanced at her cards to confirm her intent, then announced, “One diamond.”

In the final seat, Rainbow Dash had given up trying to grasp the cards in her teeth, and was now attempting to scoot them to the edge of the table.  She managed to get one halfway over the lip, then craned her neck to peek at its underside.  Looking up at the other three ponies, all silently waiting for her, then back down at the twelve cards she had yet to see, she stuck out her tongue in frustration.

“Whatever, I got this.  Hey Twi, what’s the good one?”

Twilight blinked.  “‘The good one?’  The good what?”

Dash rolled her hooves.  “You know, that thing that you said is worth more points if you bid it than the other ones.”

“Oh, do you mean notrump?”

Dash nodded.  “Yeah, that’s it.  I bid all of them.  What’s that, seven?  Alright, seven notrump!”

Lyra seethed silently as Twilight calmly doubled and the group passed around.  As Rarity played the ace of diamonds to bring the contract down one (at least), she leaned over to Lyra and whispered, “I think from now on, it would be wise not to invite Dash to fill in when your partner's away for the week.”

Dash, meanwhile, was trying to get one of her cards to flip up.  With a grunt, she shoved it face-down towards the center of the table, and with an apologetic smile asked, “Lyra, would you turn this one over for me?  I think it might be a diamond.  Maybe.”

“Actually,” Rarity continued as Lyra ground her teeth, “Let’s just go with a ‘unicorns only’ rule from this point forward.”

The Balcony

Twilight snored gently as the soft moonlight poured through her bedroom window. She stirred under the covers as she heard something lightly tapping on the glass. As she turned over, the tapping continued, despite her best efforts to ignore it.

Exasperated, she finally woke up and stumbled out of bed. Her groggy walk involved her nearly tripping over Spike’s basket and bumping into her dresser. She blinked her bleary eyes and tried to focus on what was making that awful racket. She squinted, but couldn’t make anything out. Deciding that her time was best spent investigating, she trotted over to the balcony doors and opened them.

To her surprise, a familiar cyan pegasus was hovering just inches from the deck.

“Rainbow! What are you doing here?” Twilight whispered, sounding like a hiss.

“I... I had to see you Twilight. I can’t stop thinking about today...”

“I, uh... neither can I,” Twilight admitted sheepishly. The silvery moonlight did much to hide both ponies blushes.

Rainbow touches down and nervously kicks the wood planks. “So...”

“I don’t know, Dashie. What’ll other ponies think?”

“I don’t care! I just want you! Twilight, I--”

“Ssh! Keep your voice down, Spike is still sleeping!” Twilight hissed.

“Sorry!” Rainbow whispered back. “I... I need to know where things stand between us.”

“I don’t know. What will everypony else think of two mares together? What about the Princess, and my studies? What if I lose my grants? What if you get kicked off the weather team? Wha--”

Twilight was cut off by Rainbow’s sudden kiss. Her panic was replaced by serene smile, matched by Rainbow’s smug expression.

“You worry too much, Twi. And come on, look at Lyra and Bon Bon. No one bothers them about it.”

“I guess you’re right,” Twilight admitted again.

“Of course I’m right! So what now?”

“I guess we start telling ponies. We invite our close friends over and just... tell them.”

“Are you nervous?”

Twilight looked at the ground for a moment, before looking back to Rainbow. “Not if I have you with me,” she said, before giving Dash another quick kiss.

To Those Who Wait

Twilight answered the door to find Rarity standing in the dusky glow of the sun’s last few rays. Rarity broke into a wide grin and stepped inside, Twilight’s pulse quickening as she watched.

Beautiful mane, flawless coat. Those ocean-hued eyes that hint at similar untold depths.

Twilight led her guest into the sphere of dancing candlelight around the table and sat across from her. Grinning demurely, Rarity averted her eyes and hunched her shoulders up. A brief, silent giggle made her head bob as she nudged her glass toward Twilight, twin flickers illuminating her features.

As she poured cider for each of them, Twilight sought out those eyes again where they lay shrouded beneath Rarity’s mane. She reached out a hoof and turned Rarity’s chin forward, but couldn’t make herself meet that gaze.

Those eyes. Always those eyes, reducing Twilight to a stuttering foal.

Twilight smiled and beckoned toward Rarity’s plate, levitating her own fork up to enjoy that afternoon’s effort of spaghetti pomodoro. Sampling for herself, Rarity savored a bite before bouncing her shoulders in tacit laughter, a napkin floating up to dab some sauce from her lip.

Rarity leaned forward, half-lidded eyes at once questioning and insisting. Those eyes. A chill running down her spine, Twilight mirrored the gesture, their muzzles inches apart. Those deep pools, gazing back with... a faint purple glow. Twilight hesitated, then drew back. Slamming a hoof down on the tabletop, she sniffled against a sudden rush of tears. Rarity’s mouth hung agape.

Why not her? Everypony else finds that special connection, but never her. “Just go home, Rarity. You won’t remember anyway.”

Twilight answered the door to find Rarity standing in the rosy glow of the sun’s first few rays. “Twilight, I—”

“Just go home and sleep it off. Must be some aftereffect. I’ll cast the counterspell again.” She trudged over to where her book of love charms still lay open. No counterspell is necessary; there are no lasting effects beyond the initial four hours.

Twilight blinked and read the passage again. ...no lasting effects...

She gaped and looked back to the doorway, where Rarity held out a hoof. “I’m afraid I’ve been rather a coward about... my feelings, and... it’s time to rectify that,” Rarity said.

Taking the proffered hoof in her own, Twilight felt her heart dance as she gazed into those eyes and invited Rarity inside.

A Tight Spot

“Let me try it from the back this time,” Pinkie Pie said, circling around behind Applejack. “You ready?”

“I think so, sugarcube.” Applejack gritted her teeth and braced herself.

“Okie dokie, lokie!” Rearing up on her hind legs, Pinkie pushed forward with all her might as she squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

Grunting with the effort of holding herself steady, Applejack let out the breath she’d been holding. “Owwww! I’m not sure this is gonna work, Pinkie. Any other ideas?”

Pinkie got back down on all fours, panting with effort, and shook her head. “Not without help, but... it’s not exactly the kind of thing you want other ponies knowing! Hee hee!”

“Let’s give it one more shot,” Applejack said with a grim smile. “One... two... thr—”

A loud gasp sounded from Carousel Boutique’s doorway as Rarity dropped her bag of groceries, held her hooves to her face, and backed into the door, slamming it. “You... here...?”

Applejack jumped as much as she could in her constricted position and blushed a deep crimson. “Rarity! I... We... didn’t think you’d be back already!”

Holding a hoof to her chest to steady her heartbeat, Rarity used her magic to draw the blinds on all the windows. “It’s alright. Really. At least I can help you be a bit discreet.” She gave an amused little chuckle as her eyes sparkled. “I must say, I’m happy to see you using that again.” Applejack forced a toothy grin as Rarity walked over. “At least the expert is here now. We’ll get this all sorted out.” Prodding about with her hooves, Rarity frowned at Pinkie, who eagerly awaited instructions.

Applejack only heard snippets of the ensuing conversation as she watched a shadow darting about the second-story windows.

“...can’t just force that in there... must treat it like a delicate flower...”

Finally, Applejack had had enough. “Rainbow Dash! I see you eavesdroppin’! You get down here on the double!”

The shadow outside drifted toward the door, then Rainbow slunk through, her head hanging. She flashed an apologetic grin. “Look—I’m okay with it if you two... or three...” When she looked up, she nearly fell over.

“It’s still late winter, so I ain’t in shape yet, and I gotta squeeze into my Gala dress for a family weddin’. You keep this under your hat!”

Rainbow nodded quickly, never before having felt so much pain from holding back laughter.

In Need of Healing

Nurse Redheart poked her head into her patient’s room, hearing the familiar sounds of the heart monitor’s beeping, the heater’s low hum, and the rasp of labored breathing. She walked over to the bed to check the chart and see if the night staff had added any updates. Nothing.

Heading over to the window, she looked out at the fluffy snowflakes accumulating on the hedge and muting the weak sunlight that penetrated the clouds. She parted the curtains to let in what little natural light there was and chase back the room’s shadows, a few motes of dust hovering in the anemic glow. Redheart returned to the foot of the bed and ran her hoof over the occupant’s ankles. They were cool to the touch.

That’s one of the first lessons they teach in nursing school: don’t get attached to your patients. You can’t save them all. If you can keep your emotions locked up in a strongbox, you’ll be that much more effective, and can maybe save a few more borderline cases. It’s for the best.

A brief flurry of activity outside caught her attention. Flinging snowballs at each other, a pair of unicorn colts bounced around on the lawn as a smiling mare watched them from her wheelchair. Their laughter echoed in the yard, and Redheart briefly considered asking them to keep quiet, but they weren’t really disturbing anypony. It was just a bit of fun.

Indulging in a momentary laugh, she turned her attention back to the figure in the bed and raised her eyebrows at the faint sound escaping her patient’s lips.

“Redheart,” she whispered.

“Yes? I’m here,” Redheart said, her ears pricked.

“Redheart, thank you for the tea. It warms me so.” The mare’s mouth curled into a faint smile.

Just a dream. She patted her patient’s foreleg, noting that it didn’t feel quite as warm as it should, either. Declining circulation in the extremities. Redheart sat next to the bed and buried her head in her hooves, smoothing her mane back and inadvertently knocking her cap to the floor. Bending down to retrieve it, she left a smattering of teardrops in its place.

Rules be damned. Some cases are just too far outside the norm.

She leaned over and hugged the mare, who barely stirred in response. “I love you, mom.”

“Redheart,” came the whispered reply again.

But it wasn’t time yet. Not yet.

The Night Watch

Twilight Sparkle’s eyes occasionally crossed as she tried to finish just one more chapter, her chin nodding toward her chest, then jerking back up. She flipped to the next page with a hoof, gladly seeing enough blank space to signify that she’d reached her stopping place. She gave Miss Smarty Pants a squeeze and closed her book. “How do you like this one so far? Good, huh?”

“Why don’t you go up to bed, dear?”

“Yes, mom.” Twilight settled her doll on her back and went upstairs to her washroom. Placing Miss Smarty Pants on the counter, she closed her eyes and concentrated, scrunching her face up tightly. The tube of toothpaste slowly lifted and floated toward her, jerking along in fits and starts. When it was almost all the way to her, it plopped down on the counter. Twilight let out the breath she was holding and wobbled a bit as she became lightheaded.

“See, Miss Smarty Pants? I’m getting the hang of it!” She retrieved her toothbrush with her hoof and scrubbed away. “I’m onna et into Shelestia’s shchool shomeday.” Replacing the toothbrush in its holder, Twilight hooked a foreleg around her doll and trotted to her darkened bedroom. She paused at the window, looking out at the silvery moonlight spilling into the yard from the thin crescent above.

Rummaging around in the closet for a moment, she pulled out her favorite pajamas, which were covered with comets and swirls of stardust. She wriggled her way into them and climbed into bed, perching Miss Smarty Pants atop her stack of pillows.

“Night, Twi! Have a good sleep,” Shining Armor called out as he walked past her doorway.

“You too, big brother!” Twilight replied, waving a hoof vigorously. She smoothed out all the wrinkles in the sheet and comforter, tucked them under her, then lay on her back, perfectly centered on the mattress. Leaning her head back, she looked up at Miss Smarty Pants looming over her. “And goodnight to you!”

Twilight nestled her head a little further into the pillow, and within minutes, her breathing had slowed. “Got a big day tomorrow,” she whispered. “Magic practice... reading... school...”

A pair of button eyes shone in the diffuse moonlight, looking over the filly below, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. A smile formed where there was no mouth. Goodnight, Twilight. Sleep safe and sound.

Daring Do Revolution

"You have GOT to be kidding me." Twilight's mouth hung agape as she stared at the metal monstrosity set up before her. Rainbow Dash stood in front of her with a goofy grin on her face. "So, you spend two months working non-stop with weather shifts, completely blowing off everypony, just so you could buy THIS?" Twilight took a tentative step onto the metal platforms set up in front of a large screen. "I mean, what IS this? What purpose do these pads serve? What is that screen supposed to display?"

"Twilight, come on, this is AWESOME!" Rainbow Dash grabbed the plug and slammed it into the wall. The machine came to life, speakers blaring and sending Twilight tumbling onto the floor. "It's a Daring Do Revolution Machine! It's only the hottest new dancing game there is!" Rainbow hopped onto the pad as a song list popped up onto the screen. She scrolled through the selection before picking one. Several moments later, a catchy pop tune began to play, and arrows scrolled up the screen. Rainbow stomped on the corresponding locations on the pad, hitting each note with expert ease.

"You told me this would be something I would like! Like a brainwave recording machine! I don't care about video games!"

A minute later, Rainbow hopped off the machine and shrugged. "Yeah, well how else was I going to get you to check out this super awesome game? And look! I got a double star!" Her face lit up as she pointed at the score on the screen.

Twilight threw up her hooves. "Whatever. Have fun with your dancing."