Equestria By Night

by Dusk Jumper

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Celestia, Alternate Universe, Sad, Main 6, Nightmare Moon, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Spike, Angel, Adventure, Prince Blueblood, Tragedy, Derpy Hooves
Length: 6900

Derpy wishes herself into a dystopian Equestria and discovers how far everypony has fallen.

Derpy allows a mysterious power to entice her into wishing for a world where Twilight Sparkle never came to Ponyville. Trapped in a dystopian Equestria, she discovers how far each pony has fallen without the Magic of Friendship, and must embark on a lonely quest to set things aright.

Published 2012-01-19 00:12:30 UTC
Last updated 2012-02-19 01:28:15 UTC

I: The Mirror

I: The Mirror

“Do you know what I used to do in Canterlot, when I wasn't studying?”

Sweat was gathered on Derpy's brow. From some unseen hiding place came the dragon's faint whimpering.

“I was a teacher's assistant. I graded papers.”

Twilight snorted, her nostrils inches from Derpy's face, causing the pegasus to blink reflexively. Moisture nestled on her eyelids. It stung.

“I saw the best that ponydom had to offer, and I saw the worst, Derpy.” A sort of granite had crept into her voice, which was now ominously low.

“I saw the worst.”

Derpy couldn't breathe. She wanted to scream. She wanted to catapult out the window and away from here, as far away as she could be, to a place where the ground would split and she could fly down, down, down to the utmost crevasse and nestle herself in its gloom, its impenetrable gloom that could hide--

“So I want you to know... that when I tell you that you are the most incompetent...” Twilight's voice was rising towards its inevitable crescendo. “ … Ineffectual...” Derpy's paralyzed muscles shifted now only to brace themselves. “... ABORTIVE PONY EVER TO SET HER HOOVES TO EQUESTRIAN SOIL, I AM NOT EMBROIDERING THE FACTS ! ! !”

Blood pounded through Derpy's skull. Her eyes were burning now, as a sweaty glaze rose endlessly from her fur. She ached to wipe them, but the magic held her down like a drug. Why is this happening to me, inaudible voices mused in her head. Are we going to die here? The wood was cool against her flanks.

“WHAT MAGAZINE IS THIS, DERPY?! WHAT IS DEPICTED ON ITS CHROMATIC, LASER-GLOSS COVER?!”

Derpy's tongue lolled out. The half-crumpled magazine suspended centimeters from her face seemed almost abstract to her now. She was able to gag slightly, but no sound came. The dragon's sobbing was reaching a fever pitch, now.

“IT IS A PICTURE OF A MULLET, FEATURED ON THE COVER OF MAN-MANE MONTHLY, THE MAGAZINE YOU DELIVERED TO ME THAT WAS NOT THE NEW SCROLLOMANCY RESEARCH I NEED FOR PRINCESS CELESTIA ! !”

Derpy's right eye swiveled. The room spun. Saliva pooled beneath her tongue. A single name adorned the subscription label. Slowly it came into focus.

Snips.

Oh no. Oh, no no no no...

“Gaze into this glossy mullet, Derpy...” Her voice had become a soft and profoundly disturbing whisper, hot against Derpy's ear.

She tried to press her eyes shut. The magic tugged them wide.

“Can you see the atrocity of your own existence reflected back at you?”

“It... it just'isnn' fair!”, Derpy murmured into the marble counter. “I’mean, just 'cuz shee'z the super-special miss... ponymagicwonderflanks!! Just cuzza that, she thing'z she can be a cranky-face smarty pony all-a day long and inn'a night time!”

“Another donut!” Pony Joe flinched as his marble counter shook beneath another impact from Derpy's hoof. He turned and gazed at Carrot Top with pleading eyes. She nodded slowly and swayed for a moment, her eyes seeming to contain infinite weariness.

“Derp, listen, ehm, mebbe that's enough for tonight.” Carrot laid a gentle hoof on her friend's shoulder. Her eyelids hung low and sedate. “Le’z give the donuts a... rest, yeah?”

“Nno!” The mailmare lunged away, her light, airy voice unsteady. The momentum caused her to stagger several steps before she was able to steer herself back around. “I'm gett'ng a waffle don'nunt b'cuz I'm Twi'li' Spargle and Ihm'a contr'rol feek!”

Carrot advanced on Derpy as slowly and carefully as her inebriation allowed, trying to anticipate the pony's lurching movements. “Derpy, cam-awn... R’member the last time we closed this place?” Through her own blurred vision, she eyed her friend with concern; frosting crusted beneath the pegasus' lower lip and her fur reeked of stale chocolate sauce.

Pony Joe shifted uncomfortably and glanced at the front window. “I gotta lock this place up. Mayor'll close me down if I serve after hours.”

“Derpy, we're goan' home!” Carrot sidled to her right, trying to back Derpy towards the door. “We can see what's in the fridge bu' we gottuhgo!”

“Please, Carrot...” Joe's voice fell sadly. “Don't make me put the hose on her again.”

“Yuh're not powning this hosy!” Suddenly agitated, Derpy leapt to the air and circled the room, skidding off walls and dislodging a mounted alligator head. “Fear tha muffinmancerrr!!”

“Buck it, Derpy! I cann'take yoo anywhere!” Carrot shouted as she flung a mug at the crazed pegasus before being forced to dive for cover as Derpy swooped in low.

“That's it! I'm callin' Cranky Face!”, intoned Pony Joe from somewhere under the counter.

“You get yer butt down here yoo flankh'rt bubbl'brain!” Carrot had mounted a table and struggled to keep her balance as she turned circles, screeching at Derpy and hurling plates and spoons at the airborne pony.

“Mm' gett'n d'zzzzy....”, droned Derpy as she kept looping, unable to keep from rolling wildly in one direction and the other. A stream of letters from her mailbag drifted behind her, bearing silent testament to the proceedings.

“We cann'ever juss go bowl'ng! Ya'r the woh-rst friend evar!!” Carrot lunged into the air and clapped her teeth down on Derpy's tail, swinging from her flank like a carrot-hued anchor.

“Thassit, I'hm leav'n!” The mailmare zoomed out the building's skylight, smacking Carrot against the ceiling as she did and successfully dislodging the pony. Her voice trailed behind her into the night. “Neith'r rain'nor shine'nor cold nor gloomy gloompants carrotface canna stop these swiff coury'ers...”

“An' whad'uz she know 'bout mail ennywayz... Nev'r felt th' strap of a mailbag weigh hev'y on'er flank...”

The Everfree forest was cold and suffocatingly dark that night, but Derpy barely noticed. Her wings exahusted, she staggered in fits and starts through the mud and dense underbrush.

“Pay 'tention Derpy! We needa find th' fridge! ...Or th' bed. Or th' mailblox uh wha' waz the question...”

The wind rushed through the trees and deafened her thoughts for a moment. Out of the quiet that followed, a cool, clear voice seemed to coalesce from the night air itself. She could just make it out...

“... Derpy ... Derpy...”

She stopped in her tracks and let a few instants go by. “ … H'lo? Anypony there?”

“... Come here, Derpy... This way...”

Derpy struggled to focus her impaired powers of reasoning. Someone was calling to her. She’d probably know who it was if she wasn’t so drunk. If she kept them waiting, they’d know how drunk she was. Better go answer.

“A t’ousand er’pologies miss, um...” Had the voice been discernibly female? “Fer the delays due ta the dist’rbances an’a... unferseen... compl’rcations...” She stopped. Which way had it come from?

“This way, Derpy...” She shuddered as though someone had slid a shard of ice along her spine. The voice was definitely closer. “There’s something I so want you to see...”

“Like I said befur... We ‘pologize for’a inconven’ence but I’m here now an’ I, um...” Adrenaline was beginning to counteract her inebriation. Some part of her knew that if she were sober, she’d be running for her life, but somehow that didn’t seem to matter now. A curtain of thick vines hung before her. She stepped through it.

“I br’ght yoo a letter... ?” Her voice fled her. She stood in a small grove, dimly lit by faint glowing orbs that floated lazily through the air, draping their surroundings in deep purple and vibrant green. It was warmer, here. Somewhere a chorus of cicadas chirped languidly. The grove was enclosed by all manner of flora and the canopy hid the stars from view, but the effect wasn’t claustrophobic. It was intimate, somehow.

“Come and see, Derpy. Come and look with me.” The voice was gentler than before, and drew Derpy’s attention to the center of the grove, where lay a rock formation - or was it carved that way? - in the shape of a small raised basin, only a little larger than a birdbath. The water inside it looked black, but the glowing orbs hung reflected in its surface.

“Um...” Derpy’s vision was clearer now, some subconscious function had willed her into a more lucid state. She very suddenly became aware of how scared she was. “Who’re you?”

The lights danced on the surface of the pool. Derpy rubbed her tired eyes. Had it rippled, just now? “I just want to be your friend, Derpy.” Yes, the water was rippling gently along with the sound. “I just want you to have what you deserve.”

Timidly, Derpy raised a forehoof and took a step toward the pool. She had to admit, despite the fear, something about the voice was so inviting, so... comforting. It felt like it understood, somehow. Understood everything. And that felt good. Good enough that it didn’t matter if none of that made sense. She took another step.

“What I... des’rve?”

“The world’s been unfair to you, Derpy. And unkind. But I don’t need to tell you that...” Slowly, an image coalesced in the water, currents of color and depth swirling together to create shape and motion. Was it... Cloudsdale? Yes, and there was a filly there. Gray flanks... Oh. It was her. Only younger, so much younger. It turned its head. A face she hadn’t seen in so long. Two little crossed eyes over a stubby filly nose.

Suddenly the placid expression shattered, the filly’s eyes darted towards something unseen, full of immediate fear, reflexive fear. A film of moisture was pooling on their surface.

The image moved. Two foals loomed over her, hovering. They gestured and laughed. Their lips moved. Derpy didn’t need to hear their voices to know what they were saying. She’d heard the taunt more times than perhaps any other phrase in her life. Wait, could that be true? Her throat clenched. It had to be. Emotion threatened to careen up into a sob that she quickly and habitually strangled.

“Oh, Derpy...” The voice shattered her resolve almost immediately. She pressed her eyes shut and turned her face to the ground and shook with that old, silent pain, more completely than she had since fillyhood. Hot, stinging tears drowned her vision.

Several moments went by before the torrent began to pass. She caught her breath in quick, staccato gasps and looked around. Was she still here? She’d almost forgotten.

“Derpy. Listen to me.” The voice again. It had waited patiently through all that, but now it was clearer. Firmer. It demanded her attention, now. She said nothing, but turned her gaze back to the pool. Standing over it, she was stunned to see her own reflection.

Oh, ponyfeathers... You’re such a mess, Derpy. Look at you. Leaves stuck to her tangled hair and chocolate still clung to her lip. She was aware again of her own spoiled aroma filling her nostrils. Her mailbag was a faded blue tatter clinging feebly to her shoulders, splattered with mud. Through it all she could see her crossed eyes staring back at her, the tired eyes of life-long grief.

“It doesn’t have to be this way, Derpy. It can be different.” Her image in the water dissipated like a whiff of smoke in the breeze. “I can help you make it different.”

For the first time in a while now, Derpy spoke. The fragile, desperate croak that emerged didn’t sound like her, but she knew somehow that it was. “How.”

“Tell me, Derpy,” the voice intoned, with great seriousness, “if you could live in your perfect world, what would it look like?”

Derpy stared at the pool in disbelief. The lump in her throat bulged again. “D’ya have to ask? Lookit me!” She implored the pool with a sudden, irrational desperation. “I just wanna be normal, I just wanna have straight eyes and be a normal pony and not some sideshow clownpony who drops ‘er letters in the...” She had to sniffle and fight back another surge of pain. “... In the mud.”

“Shh... Don’t cry, Derpy. I can make this world different. I can make a different world out of this one, one just for you. And you’ll have your eyes. You’ll have your beautiful eyes.” A pause. “But go on... You can have anything you want. Don’t you want more?”

The mailmare was still gaping. Surely none of this could be real... but it felt so close. Even if it was just a dream, shouldn’t she be allowed to have what she wanted, just once?

Just once?

Derpy swallowed the accumulated mucus in the back of her throat and searched herself. There was something lurking in there. Something hot and fresh and smoldering. Seizing on it, she allowed it to grow, to expand into her entire being. The impulse of that felt so good, such pure relief. It begged her to let it out.

“I wish...”

“... Yes?”

She bit her lower lip. Something felt wrong. Something elusive.

“Now, Derpy. You have to say it. Time is running out.”

Some little voice in her head was going hoarse from shouting at her, but she just couldn’t make out what it was saying.

“Now, Derpy! Say it! You have to say it now or you’ll have nothing!”

“I wish...” Her sense of judgement halted her for an instant.

She hurled it away and spoke with the molten clarity of anger. “I wish Twiligh’ Sparkle had never come to Ponyville.”

GRANTED.

The voice crashed through her head like a tsunami. It felt cold and suffocating and black and eternal. She opened her mouth to scream but no sound came, her lungs had snapped shut empty. Her body, oh god, what was this feeling? Her body fought instinctively as her mind stumbled, unable to comprehend this unstoppable force, dragging her down, sucking her down through a straw to the bottom of the ocean, and she dared point one eye at it and saw the black water of the pool was bubbling and churning, desperate to have her in its depths, and she was still being tugged down by that invisible undertow, too strong to fight... please, no, not down there, please, not there, no, anywhere but there, please, no... please... no... please...

II: The Exile

II: The Exile

Rain beat against dry leaves. A breeze wandered amid boughs and they rustled in reply. Somewhere an owl hooted inquiringly.

Derpy opened her eyes.

Where am I?

She lay draped, almost gracefully, along the firm dirt floor of the forest. Leaves were whimsically scattered about as though by an impact, but she felt as if she’d been sleeping peacefully. In fact, she felt wonderful. The rain soaked her fur and ran gently down her face, but it was a cool mist on an otherwise warm night, and she didn’t mind it.

Slowly she raised her head.

It was dark, but the cloud cover moved swiftly through the night sky and offered occasional canyons through which the moonlight could visit. The trees were still, busy gathering the precious moisture and oblivious to Derpy’s presence. Her mane was wrapped long against her body, cleaner and fresher than she could remember it being in some time.

She shut her eyes and yawned.

A disjointed memory of the night before floated into her head. She stopped to consider it, trying to re-live the events in sequence. When she’d gone as far as she could recall, she shook her head.

Dreams are so random. Especially mine.

She batted a wing idly as the sleep melted out of her muscles. She was just making ready to stand up when she felt a small weight on her ribs and startled slightly. She had to crane her neck around uncomfortably to see.

Perched on her side was a small bunny, its gray silhouette hard to discern against the night. It stared at her with black eyes full of profound curiosity. She stared back.

A beam of moonlight passed languidly over a spot about five feet behind the animal, and revealed there was a pony, watching her, very still.

Derpy shrieked and leaped up in a cloud of dust and leaves. She strained her widened eyes at the spot where the pony had been, but the light had changed. There was only darkness.

“H-hello... ?”, she murmured. “Anypony there?”

Silence. The owl hooted.

She gulped and stood frozen, unwilling to move, begging the moon to come back.

Hate scary, hate scary, hate scary, really really hate scary, maybe I’m still having my scary dreams, maybe I’m about to wake up... wake up, Derpy... wake up wake up wake up--

The moon. A face, inches from her own. Wide, bottomless eyes, blinking into hers.

YEEK!!

RUN RUN RUN RUN---

RUN RUN RUN RUN---

RUN RUN WAIT---WAIT---WAIT---... Wait...

Derpy stared back, mouth open. Her heart was thumping and her breath was short but somehow this wasn’t scary. It was a shock, but it wasn’t scary. Wait, was it scary? No, it wasn’t... Why wasn’t it scary... ?

She took a step back. The pony didn’t move. The way she was looking at her, it was so strange. She recognized that look, she’d just never seen it on a pony before. It felt wrong.

She took another step back. The moon was more consistent now and she squinted to have a better look. Whoever this pony was, she was... filthy. Beyond filthy. This wasn’t someone who’d been rolling around in the dirt, it was... more like they were the dirt. Earth and mud caked almost every inch of her fur, clung to her ratty mane, stuck in the spaces behind her ears and legs, and the rain was barely affecting it. It just seemed to rinse off an outermost layer, running in dark streaks down her legs.

Has this pony been living out here? In the woods?

“Um... hi there,” she offered. “I’m Derpy.”

Something changed behind the other pony’s eyes. A long moment passed. The pony’s mouth opened, then it closed again. She looked down ponderously.

“... What’s your name?”

The pony’s head shot back up, but could only look at Derpy helplessly. Her mouth started to move again, but no sound came.

The clouds parted now, longer than before, and something registered familiarity. Derpy could make out a yellow coat beneath the matted dirt, the long pink mane now wildly overgrown.

“... Fluttershy?”

The pony’s eyes suddenly lit up with understanding. She turned away from Derpy as though overwhelmed.

“Fluttershy? … Is that you?”

A faint, squeaky whisper drifted back on the wind.

“Fluh... ttur... shy...”

Derpy approached her gingerly. “Fluttershy... I just saw you yesterday. What happened to you?”

Fluttershy seemed to be shaking her head slowly back and forth. Derpy took a moment to look her over more carefully. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head? How did you get so dirty?” Derpy’s gaze wandered lower and her eyes widened in horror. “Holy pony when was the last time you shaved your fetlocks...?!”

Fluttershy looked back at her, the same pained expression on her face. She seemed trying to exert her will over something, something invisible, something internal...

“Um...” She moved her lips slowly, like clumsy things, like forgotten things...

“Words... are... hard.” Derpy stared, uncomprehending. “Been... so long. Long here. No... ponies. No words. Just Fluttershy. Here.”

“I don’t understand... I saw you, it was just... yesterday...”

“Yest-er-day? Can’t... Can’t. Sorry.” Fluttershy shook her head sadly. “Was years... since...” She closed her eyes and struggled. “Poh-ny-ville?” As she finished the last syllable she looked back at Derpy for confirmation. Derpy nodded yes, yes. “Can’t... be Fluttershy. There. Can’t be Fluttershy. Ponies went... wrong?”

Derpy was utterly lost, but didn’t dare interrupt now that Fluttershy was finally speaking.

“It’s... all moon now. Made it... wrong.” She put her head down in what Derpy interpreted as profound shame. “Sorry. Came here. Forgot words. Forgot ponies. Had to come here. Sorry. Sorry.”

Slowly Fluttershy began to walk, her head still hung. Derpy bounded after her.

“Fluttershy, please. I don’t understand. I know I’m not the sharpest hammer in the shed but... please! You hit your head, right? And fell in a ditch? And... and...” She struggled to find ways to reconcile what she was seeing with the pony she remembered from only yesterday. Fluttershy just looked up at her morosely and shook her head.

“It’ll be okay. I’ll go get Twilight Sparkle. She’ll yell at me and probably try to make it my fault but she’s smart, she’ll be able to fix it and---”

Fluttershy was staring at her. “... Twi-light sparkles?” She shook her head again, this time with the immense frustration of helplessness. “Sorry. Sorry.”

They were coming to a small clearing. The rain had let up and the moon shone brightly at last. Fluttershy stepped forward into it and began to peer about. As Derpy watched, she closed her eyes and threw her head back, and began to sing.

Or, that was the best way Derpy could describe it. She’d heard Fluttershy sing before. It wasn’t as measured and precise as some ponies, but there was technique to it. This was something else. It was raw, and rough, and more matched the howls of the forest wildlife than any kind of pony music. Though there was music... a low, mournful dirge. A song with feeling, a song without understanding.

The ground seemed to move. There was a great clamour and rustling of underbrush. Alarmed, Derpy hopped into the air and ascended to a safe distance. The forest floor was teeming with animals, swarming up over Fluttershy’s body in a strange, wild communion. She seemed unperturbed by this, nuzzling each one almost sadly as they leaped and played atop her. The way the moonlight silhouetted the frenzy of fur and feathers in the darkness made the fur on Derpy’s nape rise.

She looked around the grove. There was a large shelter - no, more like a den - to one side, made from dried mud and branches. It was strewn with rotting vegetables, animal droppings and a sort of improvised bedding. Fluttershy lowered her head to it and rummaged around, coming up with a sort of root. She held it up to Derpy as though in offering.

“Uh, no thanks?” said Derpy. Without a word Fluttershy lay down amid the makeshift hovel and began to gnaw on the root. It all seemed perfectly normal to her. She looked back up at Derpy and swallowed.

“Home.”

Derpy glided down and landed nearby, taking a seat next to her. The animals stopped where they were and eyed her suspiciously.

“Fluttershy, I... I don’t know what’s going on, but... I’m going to find you help, okay? I’ll go tell Twilight and find some way to fix this. She’s a clever pony. She’ll know what to do. Just... hang in there, okay?”

Fluttershy looked up, chewing. Her eyes betrayed no comprehension. “Fluttershy’s home. Please go.” She held her gaze for a moment longer before returning to her meal. Derpy didn’t know why a shudder went through her, just then, but it certainly did. She rose to her feet.

“I’ll be back. I promise.”

Fluttershy didn’t answer. The bunny was beginning to regard Derpy with something resembling hostility now, so the mailmare took that as her cue to go. Whatever the solution was to this, she couldn’t find it here.

Looking around, she realized she wasn’t going to find her way out of here on foot. A beat of her wings lifted her from the ground and she began to ascend, limbs outstretched, up towards the treeline.

That’s starting look thicker than it did from the ground...

Really thick...

Really, really...

Uh oh.

She winced and pressed her eyes shut as her upwards momentum dragged her bodily through what must have been eight feet of dense canopy. Wet, cold leaves brushed past her flank as branches and twigs dragged and snatched at her mane. The best she could do was flail through it, punching a hole through the boughs the best she could. With a final burst of speed she broke through the scratchy brush and sailed freely up through the night sky.

She shivered a bit. It was chillier up here, and she was still damp from the rain. The forest was beautiful from above, silver light sprinkled over each tree-top like so many mint-chip muffins... except that... wait...

No...

No, that’s impossible...

High above the world where the moon should have been hung only a large circular void - impossibly black against the night sky - ringed with a corona of searing white light. The light arced outwards as though desperate to be free, but the black orb held it fast. As Derpy saw it something wrenched in her gut, the unmistakable recognition of the unnatural.

Tears welling in her eyes, she whirled desperately towards Ponyville, where there now sprawled an ocean of lights, all arranged into neat grids. They seemed to reflect the stars, only they never twinkled, but glowed as silently and eternally as ghosts.

Nopony below saw the tiny black silhouette of a gray pegasus suspended in the sky that night, nor could anypony hear her desperate, confused sobbing pierce the silence.

III: The Porter

III: The Porter

Thump thump thump thump thump thump

Derpy opened one miserable eye halfway. Was that her own heartbeat?

Thump a-thumpa thumpa thump
Thump a-thumpa thumpa thump

Her eyes told her little. She’d lain here for hours, secretly hoping the daylight would banish the impossible things she continued to see, but it had never come. Inside the rotting barn she’d curled up in, it was nearly pitch black. The wood was jagged and had likely given her splinters, and her muscles remained tensed against the occasional screeches of bats.

Thump thump thudda-thudda-thudda-thudda thump thump thump thump

No... It wasn’t her imagination. The wood was vibrating very faintly with a rhythm that seemed to alter every few minutes. What was that?

She dreaded the notion of even lifting her head. She didn’t want this place to be real. Maybe if she lay here long enough, it would stop being real and the sun would rise and everything would be normal and Letterhead would shout at her for being late to work but that wouldn’t be so bad, that wouldn’t be so bad at all, she’d probably try and give him a big hug just for being --

A chorus of shouts sounded a distance away. Ponies? They were shouting words, though she couldn’t make them out. Something about their voices was strange, they were like the lilting, affected voices of clowns, but not funny like clowns...

The voices were moving away. Now they were all but gone.

Her stomach grumbled at her. When was the last time she ate? Or drank, for that matter. Despite the moisture in the air, her throat was parched.

Thumpa thumpa thumpa thumpa - thump a-thump - thump a-thump

Slowly, Derpy rose to her feet. Maybe she was just being a scaredy-pony. Maybe this was one of those times that there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for everything and she just had to find somepony to explain it to her. That happened a lot, right?

She lifted her head to the window. A small copse of lights glowed nearby, set apart from the others, from the inexplicable luminescent web spun over the countryside. She beat her wings.

As she sailed over the darkened ground, she spotted something. Were those fences? This barn... This was Sweet Apple Acres.

What had happened to it?

The wood looked rotten through, and the grass had been allowed to grow almost to shoulder-length, like it wanted to eat the farm up a little at a time. Applejack would have never permitted this. It seemed like every time Derpy brought her the mail she was fixing something... even when it didn’t seem to need fixing.

Stop. Not-gonna-think-about-it! Keep flying, Derpy. That’s what to do when you’re confused. Keep flying keep flying keep flying.

Everything always makes sense in the end.

Even when it doesn’t really.

She was closer to the lights, now. This was near Applejack’s storm cellar, if she remember right. She’d fallen in there once.

Okay, twice.

Floorlights cast a stark cone of light over the dirt road. A loose crowd of ponies was assembled. They all looked... dizzy? Most of them looked a little off-balance. And that one was getting sick in some bushes... Was this one of those rides that spins you around and around?

Those were fun.

The stairs to the cellar were still there, though they looked much different. They’d been paved over with some kind of smooth black stone, and there were little torch sconces burning on either side. It was a lot... fancier than anything she’d seen Applejack build before.

The thumping sound blasted as a door swung open at the foot of the staircase. Derpy recognized it now as the bass line of whatever music they were playing down there at such a deafening volume. Ponies turned as a mare with a plum-colored coat was pitched headlong up the stairs, landing unceremoniously on her rump. She blinked, her eyes glassy, and struggled to stand. Derpy gradually realized what was at work here: these ponies were leglessly drunk. She’d never seen so many intoxicated ponies in one place before, even at Pony Joe’s. And this wasn’t simply hard chocolate sauce like the kind she preferred, it was clearly more potent.

The door slammed shut and the music returned to a muffle. The general murmur fell silent as a large stallion emerged from below. It was hard to tell from up here, but was that Big Macintosh? In place of his harness he wore a black leather vest, and there was something in his mouth that wasn’t that reed-thing he was always chewing on. There was smoke coming from the end of it. Was it on fire? Derpy was so tired of trying to make sense of this place.

The plum pony swayed, clearly having trouble even sitting upright. Big Macintosh loomed over her. In the torchlight, his shadow was massive, and menacing. Derpy couldn’t quite hear what he was saying, but he was mad. The pony beneath him flinched and cowered, at last half-staggering and half-crawling away. Nopony moved to help her.

Big Mac flicked his smoky-stick-thingamadoo-godwhateverwhocares thing into the mud and crushed it with a stomp of his hoof that shook the ground so hard it set several ponies stumbling frantically. He snorted and withdrew to a position just left of the entrance. Derpy spotted her opening.

Swooping haphazardly to ground level she careened into the mud and ground to a gradual halt. Big Mac looked up and for an instant fixed her with a ferocious glare before recognition softened his features, if only a little.

“Derpy Hooves.” He began to move his great mass forward, approaching her very, very slowly. “S’nice to see ya.”

“Big Mac! You don’t know how glad I am to see you. I have to--”

“Glad t’see little ol’ me? What a nice surprise.” He was suddenly very close to her, much closer than she was comfortable with. And he was usually so polite with all the mares... “We ain’t had ya in here yet, an’ it was breakin’ my heart.” There was something in his voice that Derpy couldn’t place. It was so low, and deliberate. He smelled like leather.

She shifted, suddenly unsure what to do or say. “Um...”

He half-grinned. His gaze was a suggestion that was utterly lost on Derpy. “I get off in about fif-teen. Why don’cha find us a little table near the back... where’s we can be alone.”

“I don’t... What? Mac, I need your help! I have to... I have to just...” She trailed off. He kept moving his head closer. She took an uneasy step backwards.

“Oh, an’ I wanna help ya, Derpy. Y’know... I’ve always had muh eye on you jus’ a lil’ bit.” Derpy’s eyebrow went up. “... You with that gorgeous lil’ flank o’ yours.”

Derpy straightened up, stunned. Something inside snapped. “Mac, what the buck has gotten into you?!” The stallion blinked, mouth half-open. “I’ve never heard anypony talk like that in my life and I hear it from the sweetest gentlest strong and silent-est farmpony in the whole world?!” Ponies were turning and staring now. “What in Equestria is the matter with you?!” she repeated, her breathing heavy.

Big Macintosh stared at her for a long, long moment. Derpy thought she could read something there, in his eyes, something in pain, something impossibly large. Finally he broke away and stared very intensely into the blackened distance.

“G’wan inside, Derpy.” His voice was barely audible. “Or else go someplace t’ain’t here.” Derpy’s jaw clenched. She turned him a wounded glare. “... Please.” Big Mac almost sounded like he was pleading, right then, but like everything else today, and every other day of her life, she couldn’t begin to fathom why.

Slowly, Derpy moved past him and trotted down the staircase. Some part of her wanted to cry, but she beat it down. She was done crying.

She could feel the beat in her body now, vibrating inside her chest like a second heartbeat. It was a smooth rhythm, and instead of being scared, she allowed it to excite her as she pushed open the door.

Above, a trio of mares was arriving, their dresses wild, their makeup thick. They giggled at Big Mac and cast him sidelong glances and batted their eyelashes. One coyly stuck out her tongue.

He waved them in. But he did not look at them.

IV: The Harlequin

IV: The Harlequin

It was warm down here. It was stifling. The air was thick with body heat and the scent of sweat-tinged perfume filled Derpy’s nostrils.

It was large, too. She had descended two stories and stood on the main level of a massive underground nightclub. Ponies crowded around two bars to her right and left, the frantic motions of the barmares barely visible behind their silhouettes. Straight ahead, the floor sloped gently down towards a main dance floor where a maddened throng of ponies cavorted wildly to the music. She’d never seen ponies dance this way. It was crazed, almost violent. There was a desperation in their faces, like they were beating off the embraces of unseen assailants.

Above her was a balcony level with a catwalk through the middle. Ponies practically hung from the railings, laughing and hooting and spilling drinks on the dancers below who raged on, oblivious. There looked like there was an office up there, too, with a wall-size window overlooking the commotion, but the glass was shaded so she couldn’t quite tell. On the far side of the dance floor was a raised stage, currently darkened and empty.

The sight was overwhelming. Derpy stood transfixed in front of the door as ponies pushed past her or snickered at the look on her face. One sneered and wrinkled his nose, presumably at her lack of attire. There did seem to be a pattern to the style of dress here; darker shades prevailed amid leathers and laced tops, all put together at sharp, aggressive angles. Metal studs were applied liberally throughout.

“Daydream, jumper, twitch...” A pony moved past Derpy very close and very deliberately. Her voice was low and purposefully casual. “Panic, red hot fever...” She met Derpy’s eye for a half-second but did not break stride and continued into the crowd.

Weird.

Unsure where to go first, Derpy cautiously approached the ponies crowding the left bar area. The three unicorns manning the taps were absorbing shouted drink orders from every direction, wearing faces of intense focus. They squeezed past each other and ducked beneath another’s hooves, levitating bottles and pocketing tips in what was almost like a gracefully choreographed ballet. The central one wiped beads of sweat from her brow and shouted to the crowd as she whipped a drink under the tap. “Show’s about to start, get ‘em in now folks!”

Derpy nudged the slate gray pony to her right. “Excuse me...”

“Wait’cher turn.”

“What show is she talking about?”

“Only show in town, babe.” The pony shot her an incredulous glance from beneath a matte black motorcycle cap before snapping an order at the closest barmare and wading forward to pay.

The song blaring from the speakers strobed to a halt and it seemed like everypony froze, all sharing the moment of anticipation as though with a single mind. Every head turned to the stage, necks craned over flanks and for an instant no one seemed to breathe.

Derpy thought she could see the silhouette of a pony through the darkened glass of the office above, watching the spectacle motionlessly.

At once flames erupted from the foot of the stage, spewing upwards through smoke-filled air, and Derpy’s terrified scream as the heat hit her face was lost amid the howls of the crowd as they went mad, shrieking crazed ecstacy in the dark orange light of the inferno. Music cascaded in from all directions and a pristine spotlight illuminated a single pony on the stage, her head bowed dramatically.

Black latex hugged her body and mesh stockings darkened her legs. From beneath a wild pink mane a face emerged, cheeks purple with glitter. Her wide eyes were full of something that resembled joy, but it felt... wrong. It felt far away.

The music halted just long enough for her to speak into a microphone headset. Her voice came through the speakers in a trembling whisper.

“I just want to see you smile.”

Derpy’s jaw went slack.

Pinkie Pie?

The crowd whooped and the beat roared to life as Pinkie began to dance. She seemed only dimly aware of them, her gaze fixed on some invisible thing floating above their heads. The spotlight was cut and blue light poured in, revealing two stallions flanking her, fedoras tilted forward over their eyes, their grins menacing. As they danced they seemed to gradually close in on her as she strutted and bounced alluringly. The crowd screamed encouragement. She was singing something, but Derpy could barely make out the words. Nopony seemed to be listening, anyway.

--love to see you beam, beam, beam

The dance was growing rapidly more aggressive. The two stallions now dipped and spun Pinkie between them. The poses they landed in were suggestive. Derpy felt blood rising to her face, but the crowd was closer to a fever pitch with every innuendo. The stallions played into the subtext, their motion was unmistakably predatory, but Pinkie was oblivious. Derpy had never seen anyone look so glassy. It scared her.

--all I really need’s a smile, smile, smile

She was on her back now, as one stallion loomed above her and the other upended a bottle of expensive-looking something all over her torso to howls of glee.

Stop that.

--give me a joyful grin, grin, grin

The ponies on the floor were hurling their own drinks, now, drenching the stage. The stallions were laughing.

“Stop that.” Derpy didn’t realize she’d said it out loud.

A drunken pony had clambered onto the stage and joined the dance. The crowd cackled and jeered as he pawed at Pinkie, who blinked at him, dazed.

--what more can I do to make you see

More were jumping onto the stage now. Nopony made any move to stop them. Pinkie was rapidly disappearing behind them.

--fill--fill my heart up--

Somepony forced her head to the ground.

--with sunshine, sunshine

“STOP THAT ! ! !”

And Derpy was diving, diving down from the air with the force of a missile, and even the ponies who couldn’t see her must have felt her rage on the napes of their necks, because they scattered in shock.

And she had her hooves under Pinkie’s forelegs and she was lifting her, rising with more strength than she knew she had, high above the commotion. The crowd was now a mob, spitting and cursing and storming onto the stage with a singular fury. Pegasi swooped at Derpy and she dipped and spun to avoid them, screaming back at them words she could not herself understand. Pinkie laughed as they swooped upwards.

Above the pandemonium came a loud, dull thud followed by a crack. A can sailed over the heads of what was now a full-blown riot, trailing a stream of orange gas.

“SWARM.”

The mob’s attention shifted instantly to the entrance, where a phalanx of black-clad ponies were cutting through them in a wedge shape. The roar changed pitch and screams of terror filled the club as their attackers swung long black batons at everypony in reach, their faces hidden behind gas masks.

Derpy’s eyes stung.

“CONTAIN.”

From the rear of the wedge, pegasi launched into the air, hitting the other flyers like cannon shots and hurling them to the ground. The crowd convulsed like a massive cornered beast, frantic to escape. Derpy whirled, searching desperately for another exit in the blackened corners of the nightclub. Her throat burned. Pinkie shrieked with glee as they spun uncontrollably.

There was motion in the corner of Derpy’s eye. She twisted to face it and watched, as if in slow motion, as a masked pegasus hurtled at her like an arc of lightning. There was a sickening crack, and the world grew mercifully dark.