Rarity awoke to a blinding white light, and knew all was well.
Then she actually opened her eyes and realized she was totally mistaken, because she was surrounded by all sorts of horrible creatures who mostly had the wrong number of limbs and smelled terrible. Really, she was Jumping To Conclusions again, which had mostly worked for her so far but was about to stop working really fucking fast.
She approached the human (she didn’t know it was a human because she’d never seen one before, so she’d have probably called it a hairless ape or something, but that’s been done to death and you all know what a human is so I’m just going to call it a human thanks) who was clearly in charge because he had a big fancy desk/podium dealie.
“Hello,” she said, because it still paid to be Polite even when you were dealing with monsters or demons or angels or whatever she was dealing with. “I am here to establish my Kingdom of Heaven so I can lead my ponies to salvation, so I’m not entirely sure what all this is.”
“Holy Shit,” said the human. “It’s a talking pony.”
“...yes?” Rarity queried. “Could you please direct me to whomever is in charge?”
“Nah.”
“What do you mean, ‘nah’?”
“Nah. No. Negatory. Impossible. Untenable. Not gonna. Can’t make me. Shove it—”
“THANK you,” Rarity interrupted. “I know what ‘nah’ means.”
This exchange goes on for like another ten minutes and it’s not funny or interesting so I’m not going to bother transcribing it. Saint Peter isn’t helpful. Yes, it’s Saint Peter. You knew that, I knew that, only Rarity didn’t know that and she’s not important.
The conversation goes nowhere because of a single, fundamental problem. In fact, that fundamental problem is the basis for this entire story, but I’m not going to tell you what it is because it would spoil all the jokes. We’ll get there. Sit down.
Eventually, after talking in circles about how she’s Pony Jesus or whatever and Saint Peter telling her over and over again that Pony Jesus isn’t a thing and will never be a thing, Rarity gives up and goes to find somebody else. Ideally, someone who was in charge and not wrong about her Fabulous, Glorious Self, but, like, someone to fawn over her would work too, she wasn’t picky.
The real problem was that it was hard to identify “in-charge-ness” at a glance. Not seeing another podium to help differentiate all the various monstrosities that inhabited this bland, off-white imitation of Heaven—which was the surest sign in Rarity’s mind that this wasn’t Proper, as any Glorious Kingdom that She created would have color, style, pizazz, drama! Pearly white clouds were an accent piece at best.
Anyway, eventually she found a rhombus.
"Be not afraid!" it screamed at her, like it hadn’t just crashed into her out of absolutely nowhere.
‘Found’ might not be the correct term.
“I wasn’t,” Rarity said, dusting herself off.
The rhombus paused, and then its one eye closed and three more opened across its strangely two-dimensional form. "Be a little afraid?" it asked, hopeful.
“I am afraid I cannot oblige you, little one. I am the Lady Rarity, Princess of Harmony, and I have important things to be doing.”
“Oh. That sounds important.”
“It is!” Rarity pounced. “It’s very important that I find whoever—”
“But it can’t be that important, because you’re a pony.”
“Why do people keep saying that?”
“Everybody knows ponies aren’t important.”
“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!” Rarity screeched, before trying to calm herself once more. It wouldn’t do to lose one’s temper. That was how you lost followers. Religious followers, not Instagram. G5 isn’t real.
“Every living creature is important,” Rarity finally said, once she was calm and beatific and beautiful once more.
“Statistically, that seems unlikely.”
I hope you can see where this is going, because ‘important’ is starting to look less and less like a word. We’ll sum up. The rhombus is a Malakhim, which is basically just a fancy word for ‘messenger’. It’s a rank of angel and quite frankly if you’re reading this story you should already know how this stuff works. Look it up if you’re confused, I’ve got things to do.
It joins Rarity’s party, because why not. Imagine some triumphant Final Fantasy music here if you like.
And so Rarity continued to wander. She met many more strange creatures, most of which will now be condensed into two-bit gags. There was Jeremiah (who was a bullfrog), a horse that refused to give Rarity his name, eleven pipers piping, and John de Lancie. Not Discord, or Q, or any of their various expies, just a confused voice actor that I’m not going to give even a single funny line. We can’t afford his rates, anyway.
Rarity might have kept wandering forever, were it not for her contractual obligation to do something interesting before I lose my patience. That, and her steadfast determination to set things right, or at least talk to Heaven’s manager. Rarity didn’t know what a Karen was, but as her frustration at being ignored mounted, she was rapidly becoming one. Everything had proceeded according to the Grand Plan for her entire life, so it was rather jarring for her to find that the universe didn’t follow the rules once she had transitioned into her death.
Especially since said death had been part of the Grand Plan in the first place. At the very least, somepony should have warned her.
But eventually she did find someone whom she was sure would listen to her: another pony. (No, the horse wasn’t a pony, it was a horse, shut up). The pony was tall, taller than she had ever seen, and she had wings and a horn and blue fur and it was Luna, okay? Of course Luna is going to show up, don’t @ me.
“Madam!” Rarity called. “Dark Lady of the Night, I beseech you, help me!”
“You don’t have to talk like that,” Luna said, curt. “What do you want?”
“I seek a way to craft the Kingdom of Heaven, as was foretold. Surely a being such as you must understand the workings of this place, and how it might become what it was always meant to be?”
“It is what is,” Luna shrugged. “It is a nexus point for the multiverse, and one such as you matters little within it.”
“But—it was foretold, that I would die for the sins of the common pony and—”
“Superstitious nonsense,” Luna interrupted. “Did you really think anything you did in the petty mortal realm mattered? You are an insignificant speck in an uncaring universe. Get over yourself.”
Rarity drew herself up indignantly to her full height, her horn barely coming up to Luna’s shoulder, undermining the attempt rather thoroughly. “I am the Messiah!” she pouted. “I am significant!”
Luna turned, and her wings spread, and she grew larger and larger, her eyes becoming blazing stars. A shroud of night spread across the sky, encircling Rarity in an endless starry void that blacked out the perpetual sunny surroundings. Luna opened her mouth, and fire sparked from it as she spoke.
“AND I AM THE ENDLESS DARK NIGHT THAT STRETCHES BETWEEN MULTIVERSES. I AM THE VOID THAT STRINGS TOGETHER THE WEB OF STARS, THE SECRETS YOU NEVER SHARED, THE TOUCH OF A LOVER IN THE DARK, AND THE FURY OF REVOLUTION. I AM IN EVERY STOLEN GLANCE AND EVERY BLAZING STAR. I HAVE EXISTED SINCE TIME IMMEMORIAL, AND I WILL EXIST WHEN THE LAST STAR HAS GROWN COLD. YOU ARE NOTHING BEFORE ME.”
As quickly as the dark had spread, it sped away, and Luna returned to her previous stature. “You were a big fish in a small pond,” she said disdainfully. “Do not presume to understand the ocean.”
Rarity came out of the cower she definitely wasn’t in, and located her voice again. “I would like to understand,” she said meekly.
Luna hmphed. “Speak to my sister, then. Perhaps it was she who has led you astray.” With a flick of her mane, she vanished.
“You really should try not to antagonize the Dark One.” (You thought I’d forgotten about the rhombus, hadn’t you?)
“Well I know that now!”
Look. I know what you want. You want more random encounters and cheap jokes. But if all I’d wanted to give you was one-off characters, each with their own quirky personality, I would have gone with my first idea and written a Dante’s Inferno parody. Instead here we are in Paradiso, which I haven’t even read the spark notes for.
I’m sure it’s a lovely novel. Poem? Epic? Whatever.
The point is, we’re here to see Celestia, because we’ve got places to be. Besides, there’s too many things that God only knows, and Celestia’s God, obviously.
Getting to see God was easier said than done, but it’s not like time really passes in Heaven, so it doesn’t matter how long it took Rarity to do it. Eventually, she asked to see Life’s manager hard enough that it worked. These things happen sometimes.
Celestia was a being so bright that she hurt to look at. Not that Rarity would be foolish enough to point that out. Her ego was still bruised from her encounter with Luna, and she had no doubt that Celestia would be twice as fiery if pissed off.
Instead, she attempted to become one with the ground, as if that would help, before she spoke. “Your Celestial Highness, I beseech your counsel. I have learned recently that I have much to learn, and I long to be able to understand my place in the universe once more.”
Celestia looked down at her.
Frowned.
Wrinkled her nose.
Finally, she spoke.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
Rarity looked up, shocked. “I—I seek only an audience. I meant no offense—”
“No, not that,” Celestia interrupted. “You’re not supposed to be here yet. I’m pretty sure. Hold on.” She reached into a void in space and pulled out a scroll the size of Rarity’s head that was literally on fire. A pair of reading glasses appeared on her face as she scanned it. “Yeah, here it is. You’re the Bible pony.”
“...what?” Rarity asked, trying not to sound as confused as she was.
“The Bible pony!” Celestia shouted. “The… fuckin’... pony Jesus… thing. God, I was so drunk when I came up with you.”
“What.”
“I know, it was a stupid idea, but when you’re me once you have a stupid idea, it’s too late! It’s real already! It’s the worst!”
“I don’t—”
“Doesn’t matter, it’s beside the point. You died, like, yesterday. What the hell are you doing here?”
“Is this not… where ponies go when they die?”
“God no! How many fuckin’ ponies have you seen around here? You think you’re the first to die? This is for multiversal beings. You’re supposed to be in, like, baby’s first Heaven. You don’t come here for, like…” she consulted the scroll again, “ten million years, or something.”
Rarity opened her mouth, but she was speechless. She had never imagined meeting her Creator would go like this.
Fortunately, Celestia wasn’t paying attention to her. “What a royal fuck-up,” she growled. “BOB! Get the fuck in here! Who the FUCK was in charge of setting up Bible Pony Heaven?”
Bob turned out to be the tiniest little bespectacled man that Rarity had ever seen. His glasses were larger than his head, which was smaller than Celestia’s hoof. “Yes, Your Royal Divinity?” he squeaked. “How may I be of service?”
“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Celestia snapped. “Get me the manager of the Bible Pony universe, and I don’t care what they’re up to, because apparently I have to fix everything myself.”
“Uhm, do you know the official designation—”
“YOU KNOW WHAT FUCKING UNIVERSE I’M TALKING ABOUT!” Celestia roared.
Wisely, Bob decided that discretion was the better part of valor.
“Jesus Fucking Christ,” Celestia muttered.
“Um—”
“Not You.” Celestia shook her head. “Once I get to the bottom of this mess, someone is getting discorporated. But until then, I need to figure out what to do with you. Might have to scrap the whole thing and start over—”
“No!” Rarity squeaked, before gasping and clamping a hoof over her mouth, appalled that she’d dared to interrupt the Goddess Herself. But when Celestia just gave her an appraising look instead of turning her into a fine powder, she dared to continue. “I understand that you are frustrated, but I was perfectly content in my role, and I can be so again. I was already ready to keep the secrets of the world beyond the mortal veil from ponies who were not yet ready; this is no great change. I would very much like to continue to exist, even if… even if my universe is meaningless in the vastness of reality.”
“You catch on quick.” Celestia noted. “Alright, I’ll play ball. Whatever makes this mess go away works for me. You play along, and maybe your universe doesn’t need as much micromanaging going forward.”
It was at this point that a wheel of arms rolled in. Literally. It was just, like, a hundred arms, all joined in the middle and nothing else. “✡︎□︎◆︎ ♍︎♋︎●︎●︎♏︎♎︎, ✡︎□︎◆︎❒︎ ☟︎♓︎♑︎♒︎■︎♏︎⬧︎⬧︎?”
Celestia immediately went right back to furious. “❄︎♓︎❍︎□︎⧫︎♒︎⍓︎! Who do you think that is?”
❄︎♓︎❍︎□︎⧫︎♒︎⍓︎ looked at Rarity. “✌︎ ◻︎□︎■︎⍓︎?”
“She’s fucking Pony Jesus, ❄︎♓︎❍︎□︎⧫︎♒︎⍓︎! The one fucking pony you were supposed to make a skerry for!”
“⚐︎♒︎, ⬧︎♒︎♓︎⧫︎.”
“You fucking buffoon. You absolute moron. You lazy, incompetent, useless piece of ⬧︎♒︎♓︎⧫︎—”
The arm-wheel sank to the ground, the top quarter of its arms crossing inward in some kind of pleading motion. “☠︎□︎, ❍︎⍓︎ ☹︎♋︎♎︎⍓︎, ✋︎ ♎︎□︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ♒︎□︎⬥︎ ⧫︎♒︎♓︎⬧︎ □︎♍︎♍︎◆︎❒︎❒︎♏︎♎︎, ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⬧︎🙵♏︎❒︎❒︎⍓︎ ♓︎⬧︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎.”
“I fucking doubt it,” Celestia hissed. “Get the fuck out of my sight. If you want to keep your job, you have six hours to have a full report on what the fuck went wrong on my desk, and if isn’t immaculate—” She trailed off, because the wheel-arm was already fleeing.
Celestia turned back to Rarity. “I’m sorry you had to see that. It is hardly the impression I like to present.”
“Oh, you don’t need to worry,” Rarity said brightly. “I know exactly what it’s like to have to discipline a subordinate. I think you handled it brilliantly, darling.”
Celestia smiled. “Ha! How refreshing. Well, then, let us get you back to your proper universe, shall we?” She pulled a fiery timekeeping device from a pocket. “I can drop you back into the mortal realm, and we’ll have your Kingdom ready by the time you return.”
Rarity blinked. “Ah, but… aren’t I supposed to have three days? That is what I told my followers, after all.”
“Oh, yes, that was the line, wasn’t it? Well, I suppose I can keep you around for a little while longer.” She gestured, and a smaller chair appeared next to her, brilliant white and with a flickering corona of flame that paled in comparison to Celestia’s own.
Rarity cautiously sat down in it. It didn’t burn her. Not that she would have admitted it if it had.
“Sit there, and observe. Perhaps you will learn something.”
Rarity grinned. As Princess of Harmony, Messiah, Chosen of the Goddess Herself, she was finally exactly where she belonged.
Even if it was because of a royal fuck-up.
That’s fate, baby.
Author's Note
This fic was written as part of Shitty EU 3: The Second Coming, where the point was to subvert the prompt stories. Many thanks to Undome Tinwe for letting me desecrate his story like this.
