Magic Duel RemixView OnlineColdy's Cutting Room FloorMagic Duel Remix source A mare with a strange amulet arrives in Ponyville, causing chaos and challenging Twilight to a Magic Duel, claiming the purple unicorn has ruined her life. Twilight isn't looking for a fight, and in fact hardly even remembers her, but does she have a choice in the matter? Prologue: SPC Breach It was raining in Manehattan. The unnaturally empty cobblestone streets were slicked wet with rain, grey and bleak; it was still bright enough that the streetlights remained unlit, so there was no warm glow to save the scene. All the colors looked mute and faded, and a strong oppressive feeling imbued the atmosphere. A lone figure scurried down the street, avoiding the worst of the puddles but in too much of a hurry to mind the smaller ones; their black cloak was soaked around the bottom, the less damp regions higher up streaked with grime and dust in the way only a traveler’s cloak could be. A grey-blue light shone from their hood, indicating an active Unicorn’s horn. As they passed a certain alley, their head jerked suddenly to the side with an unpleasant snap, and the aura instantly faded away. The Unicorn stood for several long moments, silently withstanding the pain in their neck, before jerking their head to the other side in an attempt to straighten back out. Judging by the almost imperceptible hiss of pain, it worked, but the Unicorn stayed for several moments more, before trotting back to the entrance into the alley. The glow returned, and the Unicorn began trotting in, though at a more cautious pace. The moment their head began to turn again, they stopped, now taking slower steps, trying to triangulate the position of their quarry. There. Before the figure was a small, battered door. A half-soggy scrap of paper, still legible only because of the slight overhang above the door, said only Lost And Found Curiosity Shop The Unicorn ended the spell, and with one hoof pushed open the door. Inside, it was hardly lit; only a few spots were illuminated by a sourceless dim glow. The Unicorn could make out Zebra masks, flasks with rather questionable-looking potions, and other, stranger odds and ends piled alongside eerily everyday-looking bits. The Unicorn’s horn lit once more, and a simple ghost-light formed a few feet before their hood. At the figure’s direction, it zipped to the nearest wall and began moving along the bookshelves. Beneath the hood, a pair of magenta eyes roved in the ball’s wake; skimming titles, inspecting the stranger items on the shelves, and gauging an estimate of the place’s size. It was rather cramped, actually; the door she had entered by took up a third of its wall’s width, the two sides crushingly close and the large and rather messy piles of random curiosities didn’t help the feeling of claustrophobia. However, the space made up for it in height and length, with enough space for a second floor overlooking the entrance area, and the back sections flooded with darkness. Not finding their quarry in the front section, the figure began picking their way further inward, sending the light zipping forward to reveal more. ‘More’ was apparently the shopkeeper, and the Unicorn tripped over themself in shock. The shopkeeper was a pale blue stallion, his fur looking washed out under the blindingly bright ghost-light. It was hard to estimate his age; he looked young, but his eyes were those of an old soldier who had seen far more of the world than he’d have liked to. The Unicorn met those eyes only briefly before looking away. He wore a strange hat, and a long, multi-pocketed jacket that concealed Cutie Mark. His hair was in a braid, and perched on the tip of his snout was a pair of ridiculously tiny circular glasses that forced the newcomer to wonder how he could even see through them. His expression was somewhat bemused; he knew these types, who tried to act all mysterious and dramatic. Still, business was business. “May I… help you, traveler?” The cloaked figure swept past imperiously, and he had to resist the urge to chuckle. Yes, he most certainly knew this type, and knew how to play along. “So are you looking for any items in particular, or simply browsing?” Once again he received no answer, but that was to be expected. What he didn’t expect was for the figure’s head to rapidly jerk downwards, horn, now glowing, pointing at the floor. The Unicorn ended the spell once more, and rearing their head, the cloak’s hood fell off. The mare rubbing her now distinctly sore neck was unusual only in how forgettable she was; the instant the shopkeeper looked away, he couldn’t have said what color her fur or mane were, or if she was old or young, and he wasn’t even entirely sure if he’d guessed her gender correctly. A spell, he supposed, that would preserve her anonymity, but that was just another thing he’d grown used to with these customers. “Stupid tracking spell, why does it have to nearly kill me every time I use it?” The visitor evidently hadn’t extended the anonymity charm to her voice, as that was rather memorable. Snooty and self-assured, it killed the mood right then and there, and forced the shopkeeper to re-evaluate his customer; usually the mysterious ones didn’t speak or had something more… ominous sounding. This character was new to the business, apparently. And if what she’d just said about a 'tracking spell' was true, then she was looking for something that was in The Basement, and the shopkeeper didn’t hide anything away in The Basement unless there was very good reason to. In spite of his instincts suddenly screaming DANGER, DANGER, he put on a forced smile. “I wouldn’t really know,” he shrugged, “but I suppose that would be frustrating, would it not?” The visitor gave him a deadpan look. “I don’t suppose you’d happen to have other items than the measly collection I see up here? Perhaps downstairs?” The shopkeeper was conflicted. This was a somewhat unusual visitor looking for one of a set of some very dangerous artifacts; something like that could only spell trouble. On the other hoof, if he tried to stop her by force, she was already a Unicorn, and he wasn’t exactly the strongest specimen by Earth Pony standards anyway. So he chose a third option. “Well, indeed I do, but a number of those downstairs are not for sale. Are you certain you can’t find an adequate stand-in up here?” The unicorn ignored him, magically unlocking the door leading downstairs and trotting down. The shopkeeper followed. “Now you listen here!” He grimaced; this was starting to fall apart and he hated his helplessness. “Unless you can tell me exactly what you’re looking for and give me some assurance that you know what you’re dealing with, I refuse to allow this! Those items are locked away for a reason! I say, listen to me!” The unicorn reached the bottom of the steps, entering a space that was, perhaps surprisingly, rather sterile compared to the shop’s calculatedly mysterious main level. The stone floor was bare save for a small drain in the center, and against the walls were spotless, if rather old-looking display cases and bookshelves. There was no lamp, the only illumination coming from a small window on the far wall, up right beneath the ceiling. The bookshelves were filled with ancient tomes, some sporting ominous leather binding, others with nasty stains that looked suspiciously like blood. Few even had titles on their spines, and those that did were written in indecipherable runes. The display cases were less immediately uninviting, though the fact that each item was inside a thick glass dome, those in turn surrounded by faintly glowing crystals, inscribed with runes of protection, entrapment, and anti-magic, hinted at the nature of the contained objects. The visitor scanned these, eyes passing over a pile of approximately two-hundred small chocolates, pausing briefly on an angular goblet made of silver and glass and inscribed with the stylized image of a gryphon, and coming to rest on an amulet. The locket’s chain was made up of square steel plates attached end-to-end with hooks. The insides of the plates were lined with randomly placed spikes; though they were no more than a centimeter long and the tips visibly dulled down, it looked painful to wear, and the unicorn’s already-tortured neck twinged in worried anticipation. However, the visitor could ignore that, for her eyes had been caught by the object’s centerpiece. It was primarily made of steel as well, worked around a blood-red crystal that glowed with an inner energy. On either side, metal pieces jutted out, formed into a stylized approximation of wings; the feathers made of a badly rusted and pitted copper. From the top was an acute triangle of metal, diagonally grooved like a horn. It looked like a single jostle of the amulet would send that horn plunging upward into the wearer’s jaw, and the unicorn shook her head to clear that unpleasant image. The shopkeeper caught up, glad to see she hadn’t tampered with anything yet. “Now, see here…” He began, but trailed off as he followed her gaze to the Amulet. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but to scoff, and positioned himself between the unicorn and her quarry, speaking firmly, giving her a stern frown. “Listen. I do not know your story, or why you’re looking for this in particular, but let me assure you, I have several dozen potions and spellbooks, upstairs, that would give you the same advancements without any of the heartbreak. This artifact has a lot of stories, and none of them have happy endings.” The unicorn broke her gaze away, giving him a confident grin, though he could see it wasn’t quite reaching her eyes; in the few short seconds before the anonymity charm did it’s work, he could see that beneath her mask was the spirit of a pony who’d all but given up; she saw one way out, and was crossing her hooves and praying it would work. “Yes, I know the stories, all of them. I’ve done my research.” She telekinetically pulled a large sack of bits out from beneath her cloak and jangled it. The shopkeeper only gave her another stern glare; did she really think that would work on him? “And what makes you think your story will be any different? I’d be remiss in my duties if I just handed one of the more dangerous artifacts in Equestria over to you, and let history repeat itself.” The unicorn looked surprised he hadn’t taken her bribe, and in spite of herself found her respect for him increase by a bit. From her other pocket, she floated a large book, flipping it open. The page she landed on contained a detailed illustration of the amulet and several magical specifications. “Like I said, I did my research, and I noticed something common across all the stories involving it. The wearer kept it on all the time, allowing it’s side effects to take hold and increase exponentially. I plan to only use it to take care of some business, put my life back on track, and wear it only when I’m using it. If I get even the slightest feeling it’s doing anything other than what I want, I’ll remove it immediately and wait until it’s safe to use once more. In fact, that’s exactly why I chose this one; it has the power to allow me to fix things, and the negative aspects are temporary so long as I’m careful in how I use it, which I will be.” The shopkeeper was also impressed; she had evidently thought this through. Still, though… “What exactly are you planning to do with it?” “It’s a long story, but in short, I made some mistakes and set myself up for failure. I’m hoping that I can use this power to give myself some credence again, and then once I’m no longer instantly reviled by those who set eyes on me, continue on my own merits once more, and return this to you.” At the shopkeeper’s unconvinced look, she gave a final push. “Just because this was created for evil, doesn’t mean I can’t use it for good. Would you really deny somepony the chance to change their life for the better?” The shopkeeper hesitated a moment longer, then with a heavy sigh moved aside, though he kept a careful eye on the mare. Her horn glowed, and one-by-one, the protective crystals deactivated. The glass lifted, and the amulet floated out. The mare just looked at it for a long time, expression unreadable, before slipping it into one of the pockets in her cloak, the book soon following. She left the sack of bits at the shopkeeper’s side, giving him a thankful smile, though she couldn’t bring herself to speak. Her face was that of a drowning pony who’d just been brought to shore, and she gave him a nod before trotting up the stairs and out of his life. The shopkeeper stood where he was for several more moments, hoping he’d done right but realizing that in spite of the mare’s assurance she could handle the amulet, the more likely scenario was that he had just made a grave mistake. A half-hour later, another figure sprinted across Manehattan, going dangerously fast and almost slipping several times on the wet cobblestone. He finally reached his home, barely nodding at the pony in the lobby before taking the stairs two at a time up to the third floor. Flinging water everywhere as he burst into his modest apartment, the shopkeeper-who-was-more-than-that took off his hat and set it upside down at his desk, pulled out a sheet of paper, a jar of ink, and a quill, and set them down beside it. Pulling a small silver marble out of one of his jacket pockets, he cast it into his hat, where it began glowing. A faint light radiated from the hat’s brim, signaling that that part was ready. After a hurried dip in the inkwell, he pressed the quill down onto the page- so hard that it snapped. He grabbed another quill and began writing. "Dear Princess Celestia…”
Student CourtView OnlineColdy's Cutting Room FloorStudent Court source Cheerilee's been teaching about government, and as a class-building exercise, decides to set up a mock 'Night Court.' If only she'd known that the students would find a way to turn educational child's play into dangerous politics... Set in RainbowDoubleDash's Lunaverse Idea from Hilltopper Chapter 1: Iiiideee-ah! "And while the city-states are often at odds with one-another, when they need to present a united front, a group of ambassadors are chosen in such a way as to ensure roughly equal representation among the Griffon Kingdoms!" The mulberry teacher at the head of the room had an almost unnatural ability to inject enthusiasm into the most boring declarations, but even her normally infectious cheer was wasted on the class. Somepony in the back row yawned loudly, and it spread among the students like a virus. Cheerilee waited patiently through the chorus of exhaustion, or at least, until she noticed something rather out of place and strode forward. "Ruby Pinch! Could you please tell me if you remember the name of the unofficial capital city of the griffin kingdoms, or would you like to explain to me, after class, what is so interesting that you can't wait until later to tell your friends?" The filly jumped in surprise, paper dropping from her mouth, but with an expression fearful enough that Cheerilee almost felt guilty. That guilt quickly evaporated with the next words out of her student's mouth. "Umm, they eat fish, right? They're herbivores, so they eat only fish and other meats!" The teacher willed herself to slow her breathing, putting on a fake grin. Most of the rest of the class began laughing, but she was quick to cut them off before the mockery could get too far. "You're partially correct. Griffons do eat meat, and the ones living near the coasts mostly live on fish, but the term for that is 'carnivore.' Unfortunately, we discussed that last week, so I'm going to have to ask you to put away that note and please pay better attention next time." As she moved back behind her desk, Cheerilee gave an almost inaudible sigh and looked at today's date, scrawled in one corner of the blackboard. There were few things she well and truly hated, but what that date represented was one of them. "Mondays." My little pony, My little pony Ahh ahh ahh ahhh... My little pony Friendship never meant that much to me My little pony But you're all here and now I can see Stormy weather; Lots to share A musical bond; With love and care Teaching laughter; It's an easy feat, And magic makes it all complete! You have my little ponies How'd I ever make so many true friends? The manner in which the restaurant had been decorated was... well, 'eclectic' was the closest way to describe it, but still came far from doing the place any kind of justice. Each set of table and stools had their own color scheme, independent of the rest of the surroundings, and the walls were plastered with all sorts of random items and photos. The floor was checkered in every color of the rainbow, seemingly without any rhyme or reason to the patterns, and the employee's uniforms would likely have made somepony like Rarity faint in horror. Whenever Cheerilee stepped inside, she got an uncomfortable feeling like she was stepping into clown school or some twisted eldrich dimension. Thinking about it, she realized there was probably little difference between the two. There were two reasons she still came here, though. Firstly, it was cheap. The Night Court's recent bout of wheeling and dealing had the frustrating side effect of rearranging the school budgets for a large part of the region, and those budget shifts had not exactly been in teachers' favor. She wasn't going to keep it a secret if asked, but neither was she going to go out of her way point out her problems. And besides, when compared against losing a house, having her eyeballs sucked out through her brain was a relatively minor concern. And besides, she thought to herself, this has nothing on some of the stuff from when I was a kid! The other reason she came here? Because they made some bucking amazing hayfries. All her friends, minus Lyra, who'd had a prior engagement, were seated near the back on navy-blue-and-red chairs around a painted toxic-green table. As she made her way towards them, Cheerilee grimaced apologetically. Trixie in particular, while certainly no fashion freak, was regardless gazing at their surroundings with a bemused scrunchy face, and leaned away when one of the flamboyantly-dressed waiters passed. "I'm sorry," the teacher whispered as she took her seat. "I know the place looks a bit weird, but the food's worth it. Trust me." Ditzy nodded understandingly. "I've been here before. The hayfries are pretty good." Of the five ponies at the table, one was chuckling in a somewhat worrying and sinister manner, one looked bored, and the other three looked on with matching expressions of horror. Their faces would not have been out of place in the audience of some sadistic play involving an eerie basement, torture, lots of ketchup packets, and maybe cupcakes, but reality was somewhat more kind. Carrot Top was the first to break out of her trance, though her expression was barely diminished. "They really did that to the count? That's just plain terrible." Trixie's laughter finally petered out, and she looked up to see her friend's expressions. "Really? You seriously think it was that bad?" She gave them a flat look that could do Raindrops proud before returning to contemplating her hot-sauce-and-mayo-covered tofu strips. "I guess you had to be there." "Well, we all learned a valuable lesson in friendship today: Never let Trixie tell jokes." Raindrops raised one eyebrow at the trio, pointing one forehoof at Cheerilee while ignoring a certain blue unicorn's protests. "I didn't find it that bad. Anyway, it's your turn now." The teacher let out a sudden loud groan, causing Ditzy and Carrot Top to jump in surprise. "Sorry, but I'd like to pass." She crossed her forelegs on the table, letting her head droop onto them as her ears flattened a bit. "Today has been a bit... taxing." At her friends' questioning gazes, she elaborated. "Don't get me wrong, I love my students, but there are times..." "Where you want to strangle them?" Trixie helpfully supplied. Raindrops opened her mouth, but after a moment, evidently thought better of what she was going to ask and closed it again. Trixie had continued speaking, anyway. "Tell us more!" Cheerilee frowned at herself, shaking her head. "I'm a teacher, and I've worked a long time to get a job I love. I shouldn't be complaining about it... right?" "We all have off days," Ditzy began, "and I know from experience that it's better to get things off your chest before the stress drives you crazy, and turns the rest of the week into one big off day!" Cheerilee looked like she was going to object, but after reflecting on the mailmare's words, shrugged. "I mean, I understand that fillies and colts will be concerned with friends and cutie marks and social...stuff... but at the same time, It would be nice to teach them something and have them actually learn. And then you have them dividing up into groups and usually harassing anyone outside that group -Your daughter is one of the few exceptions, don't worry, Ditzy- and being generally rude. We weren't like that as kids, were we?" Nopony in the group offered comment. "And then," She added, "There's the whole issue of 'Cutie Marks' versus 'Blank Flanks' going around. I definitely remember that from when I was a kid... I really don't want to have to touch the issue with a ten-foot-pole, but at the same time I feel guilty because I know that kind of bullying is really making some of the students miserable... but again on the other hoof, I'm afraid that if I try to talk to the class about it, it'll only make things worse." She sat still for several moments, glaring down at her hayfries, before remembering her surroundings. "Sorry, I've been rambling..." She began, but was cut off as Ditzy gently patted her shoulder. "I don't mean to margainalize your problems, because they sound like they're giving you some real troubles here, but you're not being rambly or over-complaining at all." She paused a moment, giving a slight chuckle and a grin. "For that, you'd have to ask me how my day went." "Not to sound insensitive, but I think the next question you have to ask yourself is: 'how are you going to fix it?'" Raindrops interjected. Trixie chuckled. "Yes, quite the fix job you'll have there; your class is sounding like a miniature Night Court!" She leaned away from Raindrops' subsequent glare, "What? It's the truth!" Their 'conversation' didn't have the chance to get much further, though, interrupted as it was by the mulberry teacher. "You're right, Trixie; you're a genius!" Cheerilee snatched up a few items, throwing them haphazardly in her saddlebags, and rushed toward the door. "Sorry to eat and run, but I just had a great idea andthepaperworkforthiswilltakeallweekendbyeeee!" "Was it something I said?" "Yes, Trixie, it..." Raindrops frowned at the path of chairs her friend had overturned in her haste, in deep thought. Trixie and Carrot Top kept talking in the background, but she was hardly listening. After several moments of replaying the conversation in her head, figuring out all the different possible implications of Cheerilee's parting words, she spoke. "Knowing us, just us both as a group and alone, knowing the sorts of things we get up to... I have a feeling this can only end badly."
OrdealView OnlineColdy's Cutting Room FloorOrdeal Whatever happened to the bridesmaids? Ordeal “Are you sure you want this, though?” She asked, looking at me with that expression. The expression she puts on whenever my family pressures me into doing something; the expression that’s so full of love and concern that I feel so guilty for worrying her, and selfish for wanting to have someone so beautiful and kind all to myself. “Well, I guess I’m not really all that enthused,” I admitted, “But as far as suggestions from my parents go, this one isn’t half bad. It’s not every day you get to partake in the wedding of a princess, after all! I just wish you could come with me…” She walked around the table and nuzzled me. “Just don’t catch that bouquet, okay?” She murmured before pulling back with a sudden mock stern expression. “You’d have some explaining to do.” I just giggled at her accidental rhyme. “I hadn’t even thought of it until you brought it up. I love you, Bon-Bon.” “Ugh, what happened?” My head hurt, I was lying on something really hard, and I felt cold. It wasn’t as cold as the time I’d been caught out in a Pegasus-scheduled blizzard without my coat; it was worse. Much worse. I felt like I was in space. What if I was on the moon? What if the rumors of a ‘nightmare virus’ were true, and it had somehow affected me, and I’d become Nightmare Lyra, and The Music Would Last Forever and then I’d been banished to the moon? Okay, that was admittedly a bit ridiculous, but given my mental state at the time and what information I had to work with, it’s at least an understandable conclusion. Right? Ah, but I digress. I was lying on the ground, freezing my cutie mark off, and I had a huge headache and a conspicuous lack of memories that could explain how I’d gotten wherever I was. And all that was just before I opened my eyes. There was another mare lying right next to me, our snouts nearly touching, and she wasn’t Bon-Bon. “AAAAAH!” I jumped to my feet, backing away, and the other mare did the same. I cocked my head to one side, and she did, too. She was a soft mint green, with a darker shaded mane that had a streak of white on one side. She was wearing the tattered remains of a too-colorful dress, the yellow parts just barely managing to match with her golden eyes. Oh, come on. Seriously? A heartfelt facehoof was quick to follow the realization that I was looking at my reflection. At least this meant I hadn’t partied too hard and done regrettable things, but that didn’t answer the question of what had happened. I glanced around, taking in my dismal surroundings; a massive cavern that looked ready to collapse on me any moment; so wide across that the other side was completely lost in darkness. I was on a wide ledge halfway up the wall; broken rocks waiting far below for a falling pony to chew on, while the ceiling rose as high as a cathedral above. Taking a moment to compare scale, I estimated that the royal palace in Canterlot could fit in here without difficulty. Oh, Celestia. Canterlot. I was supposed to be in Canterlot right now, helping with a wedding I had no emotional investment in, and instead I was in some huge cave that could be on the other end of the world for all I knew, battered and likely in no condition to escape. And Bon-Bon! Where was she right now? Was she okay? Was she thinking of me right now? This was not ranking very high on my list of ideal situations. At all. “Ugh…” Spinning around fast enough to make myself dizzy, I saw a dark figure rise from the floor like a restless phantom. I couldn’t move, and I was scared, and I didn’t know where I was or how I got here and what if this was pony hell and I didn’t even get to tell Bon-Bon goodbye and what had I even done to deserve this and the figure was coming closer and I was so terrified… And then the figure stepped into a shaft of light, and I felt myself nearly give out in relief, because it was in fact none other than a bruised and bleeding, but alive and not going to eat my soul, Twinkle Shine. Her off-white fur was smudged with dirt, and there was a nasty bruise showing through on one cheek, but her expression betrayed the same relief I was feeling. She reached a hoof out to help me up, as somehow I’d ended up sitting on my rear, though I really didn’t remember exactly when, and I gratefully accepted it. She looked around, evidently examining the environment, same as I had, and I noticed that there was a nasty cut right below her horn, slowly trickling blood down her forehead. The sight was oddly fascinating, like when the mailmare back home in Ponyville would crash into Carrot Top’s stand; you wanted to avert your gaze but simply couldn’t. Blood was a rare sight in Equestria; perhaps there would be the occasional accident or a skinned knee, or more rarely, disasters such as the rampaging Ursa Minor (Minor!) or Nightmare Moon’s return, but it was still an uncommon sight. This gash had me morbidly transfixed. A hoof on my shoulder snapped me out of the daze. “I said, are you alright?” Twinkle was looking at me with concern and slight irritation. I shrugged off her hoof, keeping my eyes away from her horn. “Yeah, but I’m not so sure about you. Did you crash into a rock or something?” She pursed her lips and gestured to me to follow her to the back of the ledge, out of the light. She pointed out a pony-shaped imprint in the dust, then to a nearby boulder that sported a number of sharp edges and a streak of blood. I winced. “So we should probably figure out where we are and how to get out, preferably quickly.” She announced. “Wasn’t there someone else who was a bridesmaid?” I peered around, but the gloom was difficult, and that one shaft of light I’d woken up in was killing my night vision. “Maybe we should poke around for her.” It didn’t take long to find the last of our odd trio stretched across a sloping rock not far from where Twinkle had awoken. Her neat, toothpaste-like mane, identifying her as part of the Colgate family, was now a mess of blue and white, and her dress was reduced to rags. Her legs were scraped, like she’d dived down onto the rock from above and skidded along its length. She wouldn’t be able to walk without pain for a while. Still, we woke her, because three heads are better than one. “Okay, so we have light,” I pointed out once we’d given her time to gain her bearings and get up to date with the situation, “Which either implies a way out or is artificial. Either way, it’s a good place to start, and we know there’s an escape, because otherwise we couldn’t have gotten in here in the first place.” “Unless someone used a molecular loosening spell in us to shove us in through the walls.” Twinkle countered, looking disturbed at the idea. With the head injury, we’d decided it was safer if she didn’t use magic until we could escape and have a doctor look at it. If we had to walk through walls to leave, she would probably be unable to come with, and they hadn’t taught us how to use molecular-loosening spells on other ponies back at the academy; just on ourselves. What if the cave had iron ore in the walls? Though there was hardly ever any crime in Equestria anymore, Banks still took the safety precautions of lining the vaults in pure iron, as for some reason that was able to counter the effects of the spell. Even if there wasn’t iron in five miles of this place, though, I still hoped that there was a more simple exit; when I’d done the spell the day it was taught, I’d nearly accidentally released it while still halfway through the test wall. I was a musician; geologic magic was far from my specialty. “Listen, let’s just hope for the best here, cause hope’s kind of all we have at the moment, okay? If we have to walk through walls, let’s at least make sure all the other options are exhausted first.” I grimaced, realizing how defensive I must have sounded, but neither of my companions, both of whom had been there to see me nearly slice myself in half, said anything. Love and Tolerance is vastly underrated. “The way in is the way out.” piped up the Colgate, “So how did we even get here in the first place?” “Did I hear someone say my name?” Princess Mi Amora Cadenza, as we’d learned right away to call her, strode through the door with a snotty air that only served to accentuate the cynicism towards this wedding. Still, I hid my deepening resentment of the situation with a complacent and perhaps shallow-looking smile, recognizing the occupants of the tower room. On one side, adjusting some dress-forms, was Rarity Belle, whom I recognized from Carousel Boutique in Ponyville,
Of Responsibility (Day Pi: The Nonsense)View OnlineColdy's Cutting Room FloorOf Responsibility (Day Pi: The Nonsense)Queen Chrysalis's thoughts were running at a thousand miles per second, but she'd had to use and the blurred streaks of the wind in herself. Had she tumbled through the first few moments since being shoved off the balcony, and none of water, but they could have been so bad if she hadn't gloated so bad if she knew her best acting. Changelings were spread out, likely disoriented from the blast, and the blurred streaks of brown and her speed was such that the world flashed white, and surprised at those fools who had defeated her Praetorian guard also flung away from the castle. The Spell of their mercy. And fear, because even recover in her ears didn't help. While Equestria was such that her playing of commission. In the edges of Suggestion was still far from her stomach back on Shining Armor the situation could be summed up in control of the wind in control of Suggestion was sure she'd somehow left well enough alone and green that her playing of Cadence had rushed blindly into a pile of brown and surprised at those fools who survived? There was a land of this would have gone forth unimpeded. Cadence wouldn't have gone forth unimpeded. Cadence wouldn't have found the blast, she'd seen her playing of Suggestion was angry and abuse it might not have been slammed into this role like she'd been slammed into a brick wall, and green that the world seemed to right herself, she could get to them. While this was spinning madly, limbs flailing as she didn't want to them. While Equestria was usually a thousand miles per second, but she'd had defeated her devotion to drink a glass of brown and she crashed into this role like a strobe lantern, her Changelings weren't also flung away from in control of Suggestion was disappointed in herself. Had she was spinning madly, limbs flailing as she knew her speed was one thing to use and her speed was still far from her using what she fed on. It was one thing to admit that represented the limits of their mercy. And for those fools who survived? There was usually a tidal wave. She was disappointed in her sight like a pupa on the balcony, and the blurred streaks of herself without trying to Shining Armor, the air. She was disappointed in her ears didn't help. While this was sure she'd somehow left well enough alone and surprised at a thousand miles per second, but she'd had to admit that the world flashed white, and mannerisms before she could have been slammed into a brick wall, and tolerance, she crashed into this role like a pupa on her first few moments since being shoved off the will to her failure, many of Cadence had defeated her failure, many of commission. In the castle. The Changelings were spread out, likely be hunted down by no means a mockery of her ... Author's Note This was an April Fools prank in 2014, made with the Bonsai Story Tree Generator. Author's Notes HiveLordLusa I.... I tried reading it but some of the sentence structures.... what? Cronos Skywinds Kage No Brony HiveLordLusa Here, it's just a matter of breaking your mind of it's notions of grammar. Listen to these, then try again. PhycoKrusk But what about the full-frontal invasion? The media has destroyed Tommy Chen??? Jixstun Tsk. Looks like someone has uploaded a Virus into the author again. Now Where did I leave my Rebooting Mallet? vulture Lol ok I think I understood a good fraction of that. The one good thing that came out of this other then a laugh was me realizing that I hadn't favorited the story yet.
