MINIFIC LIGHTNING ROUND

by TacticalRainboom

Rating: everyone
Tags: Random
Length: 6914

A contest for 600-word shortfics, as seen on MLPchan's /fic/

Here it is, people: the anthology. I don't know how we're doing for voting. Read them and formulate opinions while I decide.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-04-08 06:10:02 UTC

Steel sung as the pair performed...

Steel sung as the pair performed a deadly dance. A smooth slash, met by casual counter as grassy ground was given and taken in equal measure.

The younger of the two lunged forward and was punished for it by a ringing blow to the helmet. As he reeled backwards, trying to regain his senses, he heard, “Being aggressive may defeat a less-skilled opponent swiftly, but you’ll only find your end on the edge of another’s blade if you don’t first test their skill.”

The colt, with his ego now smarting along with his skull, replied, “Sorry, Father.”

His father barked a laugh. “It is not to me you should be sorry! After all, I won’t suffer quite as much as you if you’re gutted by a spear. Now, are you ready to try again, Strike?”

A furrow appeared in the ground as Strike widened his stance, hooves planting into the earth like a tree spreading its roots. “I’m always ready.” His head lowered, putting the helmet and the dulled horn saber on it between himself and his attacker.

Amber eyes watched as his father paced a circle around, as if he was examining the best point to tear down a castle’s walls. “Really, you’re always ready?” A darting cut, easily turned away. Stepping back onto the self-made path, his father said, “Do you mean to tell me that you’re ready when sleeping? What of when you make water behind a bush; is that a piss of readiness?”

The stallion leapt forward, his horn saber coming down in a vicious arc. Strike ducked under it. Head lowered, the colt made to drive the saber’s point forward, only to find himself bulled by the weight of his father. Strike’s neck was forced up by a shoulder, then wrapped by his father’s forelegs. The world spun before gracing his cheek with an earthen kiss.

“Were you ready for that?” his father asked while brushing dirt off of his greying coat.

“…No,” Strike grunted while forcing himself up.

Snorting, the stallion replied, “You should have been. I wasn’t blessed with the name Grand Grappler for nothing.” Grappler trotted over and helped Strike up. “Just like how your name isn’t Swift Strike because you go on the defensive. Play to your strengths.”

Shaking the twigs from his chestnut mane, Swift said, “But you just told me to not be so aggressive.”

“I told you to not jump at your opponent like starved mutt going for a bone. You can be as aggressive as you want once you know what they’re keeping up their fetlocks. Being surprised on the battlefield tends to leave you being dead as well.”

Swift deflated. “I suppose I’m not ready to use a horn saber after all.” He slid the chin strap off and put the helmet to the side.

Grappler took the helmet and put it into a pack along with his own. “We’ll work on your hoofwork for a few hours before heading back.”

Swift gave a lopsided smile. “You mean dancing.”

“It teaches you to be light on your hooves and to maintain your balance, unless you enjoyed eating dirt. Besides, a strapping young lad like you needs to know how to dance for courting.” Grappler flashed a wicked grin. “The only dance you know so far is the one you do when waiting for your sister to finish in the bathroom.”

Swift stretched his legs. “We’ll see about that, old horse. At least I can still learn new ones. Mom must be getting tired of the four-left-hooves tango after all these years. Come on, let’s get started.”

Dealing

\A cloaked and hooded foal walked alone through the shadows of night and among whispers of the wind. She had only brown sack held in her maw and gave no indication to its purpose.

She had reached the location: a clock tower with destroyed haphazard walls. A large bronze bell -- contained in the squared-off roof -- was bungled in an outer coating of rust. The exterior made the structure look years older than its authentic age.

She entered and she pulled back her hood. The foal coughed slightly from the dust exhumed from the wooden doors. Candlelight revealed it to be Sweetie Belle. But why was she alone at this hour?

They can’t understand... nopony can.

On the ground floor -- hidden in darkness beneath the underside of the circler staircase -- a blue furred pony tittered. He was homeless, made evident by the smell of sweat and shame. He shifted and twitched uncontrollably.

Sweetie Belle dared not to move in too close, so instead she dropped the bag infront of him. It crashed and rattled heavily across the cobblestone floor. It was filled with Bits, a quantity of Bits unusually large for her to obtain. Were the Bits stolen?

“Here. Take it. It’s yours.” Sweetie Belle said coldly.

“Eh,” the old colt replied and took the bits. He itched his fur like it had fleas.

In return Sweetie Belle was thrown a wad of white powder in a small plastic bag and some strange sticky substance that smelt of sour cream... The exchange was quick and simple, she got she wanted, he got his Bits.

Sweetie Belle couldn’t tell them. Secrets and rumours spread like wildfire in Ponyville.

She collected her prize, moved on and left the frantic pony to lurch.

=================================================================

Sweetie Belle entered the Sweet Apple Acres barn via the back door; it creaked open. She held something behind her back, the item that was the fruition to all her efforts.

It’s here. I made it.

In the main room of the barn Apple Bloom was sat with her friends and family gathered around her. Applejack, Scootaloo and even Pinkie Pie was there... dressed as a lion, complete with a large fur mane and face paint.

“Sweetie Belle, there you are! We’ve been lookin’ all over for ya’. You nearly missed the fun an’ games.” Apple Bloom said.

All eyes stared at Sweetie Belle.

“Happy birthday Apple Bloom!” Sweetie Belle tried to shout, her words were slurred but audible.

Sweetie Belle revealed a large cake with the white sugar powder and icing that smelt of sour cream.

“It was hard to get ingredients outside of Ponyville; I didn’t want anypony knowing what I was trying to do because it was meant to be a surprise. I even saved up all my Bits to buy the ingredients.” Sweetie Belle revealed.

“Wow Sweetie Belle, that’s mighty kind of ya’.” Applejack exclaimed and chucked confetti onto everypony. Banners were erected across the ceiling which read: ‘Happy Birthday’. Apple Bloom even wore a paper cone hat with stars on it.

“Awwww man, that totally beats the present I gave her.” Scootaloo groaned.

“Thank ya’,” Apple Bloom said demurely and nuzzled Sweetie Belle. “Thank ya’ so much.”

She was the luckiest foal in the world to have friends like her.

Sweetie Belle collapsed onto a nearby pile of soft hay. “You can just start the games without me...” She said under a great big yawn and waved her hoof aimlessly through the air. “I’m just going to nap... riiiight here.”

Zzzzzz...

The End.

Tick-Tock-Crunk

The library door opened as Rainbow Dash stalked into the hollow tree. She looked around, nopony was in sight. If Twilight was following her morning schedule exactly Rainbow had four minutes and thirty seconds to set up her prank.

Opening her wings Rainbow flew over to Twilight’s clock on the library wall. She stopped the pendulum and gently put the clock in her bag. Opening her other saddle bag she took out a second duplicate clock and placed it on the wall.  Rainbow chuckled as she gave the pendulum a push.

She went out the window with nopony the wiser. The clock moved malevolently as it told the time with a faint: tick, tock, tick, tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock, crunk…

Rainbow set down under a window outside to wait for her prank’s certifiably hilarious result and after a minute was joined by Pinkie Pie with a popcorn bucket.

“Did you get Rarity?” Rainbow asked.

“Yep, I hid all her needles in a haystack,” Pinkie said with a grin. “It will take her ages the find them all.”

“Classic prank, Pinks, but nothing compared to mine.” Rainbow stood to peak in through the window. “See that clock on the wall?”

“You mean the clock that’s always been there?”

“Actually, that’s in my bag,” Rainbow said. “The one on the wall’s new. I had to pay, like, forty bits to get Time Turner to make that one, and it’s going to drive Twi nuts.” Rainbow giggled in anticipation.

“Here she comes,” Pinkie gasped.

Exactly on schedule Twilight opened the Library and walked in with a bag of groceries. She left them – and Spike – in the kitchen while she came back out to start her publicly scheduled “study time”. Twilight selected a book from a shelf and sat down to read.

Still unseen, the pair of pranksters outside put their ears against the window. Through an unmatchable force of will, Rainbow kept herself sitting patiently and waiting. Only the imagination of the inevitable result held her in place.

Soon Twilight would be comfortable and then when the rhythm of the clock became second nature, she’d notice. Minutes passed until the inevitable crunk.One of Twilight’s ears flicked. She looked up from her book and around the room once before she returned to the pages. Another minute passed and the crunk returned. This time Twilight’s ears shot toward the clock and she looked directly at it.

The clock continued its evil work as Twilight listened, her head unconsciously following the rhythm. Tick, tock, tick, tock… tock.

Twilight cringed when the rhythm broke. Rainbow leant further onto the window, her wings were out and she couldn’t wait for the snap. Any moment now Twilight was going to go nuts; she’d tear Ponyville apart, shoot the clock to the moon or make the entire town fall in love with it.

Twilight took the clock down from the wall and listened to it. Tick, tick, tick, tock-tock-crunk.

Twilight stood and walked toward the door with the clock in tow.

Rainbow shot around to the front door, raising a hoof to make it look like she was about to knock on the door.

The door opened, “Oh hey, Twilight,” Rainbow said. “What’s with the clock?”

“You’ve never seen this before?” Twilight asked. “It’s amazing, an irregular tick pattern and it still tells the time accurately. I can’t believe I’ve never noticed it before. I’m going to go see Time Turner and find out how it works, bye.” Twilight walked away at rapid canter toward Turner’s workshop.

Watching forty bits walk away Rainbow yelled, “Oh come on!”

Oh, Come On

"Thanks, Spike.  I have to be at my best when she arrives with the delegates from Saddle Arabia.  I can't believe she's trusting me with the entertainment!"

Rainbow blurs always happened when Twilight was least expecting them.  At that moment, disarmed by Spike's praise and distracted by Fluttershy's neuroses, Twilight's guard had never been lower.

She was bowled off her hooves and sent sprawling into the grass, nearly crashing into a nearby fence.  The dirt dug into her back, covering her in small nicks and dents.  Rainbow Dash, eyes wide, had pinned her with all four legs, and was leaning over her, panting.

"Twilight!" she shouted.  "Come quick!"

What? Twilight thought, her mind racing.  Here?  Now?

"It's an emergency!"

That pronouncement changed things.  Sweat beaded across Twilight's brow.  Her legs trembled.

It was an emergency.  Everypony was counting on her.  She had to do it, right now and right here, consequences be damned.

The clock is ticking, Twilight!

But try as she might, spontaneous orgasm was not one of her skills.  She needed to concentrate, to focus!  But what could she possibly...

Rainbow Dash!  Athletic, lithe, stupid sexy Rainbow Dash was right there in front of her!  Surely, a pony that good-looking would be the perfect object to excite Twilight's lust, right?

Well, at the moment, she was just standing there with a frantic and pleading look; hardly arousing.  Thinking quickly, Twilight pictured her in a hot outfit, like a cheerleading– no, wait, a plaid skirt and button-up blouse, with white stockings and glasses.  And a ponytail.  Ponytails are hot.

Twilight began to feel warm.

"Oh, Miss Twilight," moaned Rainbow Dash, pouting and showing her rump.  "I'm so bad at tests.  Can you teach this naughty schoolfilly everything you know... after school?"

"I'd love to," Teacher Twilight said, licking her ruler while adjusting her garter belt.  Her leather skirt rode up as she sat on the edge of her desk, revealing panties striped in the same colors as Celestia's mane.

Rainbow Dash moved towards her, pressing her back against the desk, their lips locking.  Rainbow's hoof moved beneath Twilight's skirt as their tongues entwined.  Twilight drew her hoof down Rainbow's back, eliciting a shuddering gasp of pleasure from the mare.

They parted, strands of saliva just absolutely everywhere.  Twilight grinned wickedly.

"Now bend over, my faithful student."

Rainbow acquiesced, flushing in embarrassment.

"It's my first time, teacher... Be gentle..."

Twilight's back arched and she cried out, "Oh, Luna's fetlocks!"

Rainbow Dash – the real Rainbow Dash – recoiled slightly, looking confused.

"Uhh, Twilight, what did you just–"

"Was I... Nnngh... Fast enough for you, Rainbow Dash?" Twilight wiped at the drool spreading over her cheek, panting.

Rainbow, her features contorted in disgust, flapped her wings until she was hovering.  "Ew."

Twilight's head lolled to the side, where she saw Fluttershy covering Spike's eyes with a hoof.  Fluttershy's wings were fully extended, her face bright red.

Clearing her throat, Twilight asked good-naturedly, "So, uh... What's the emergency?"

Rainbow slapped herself in the face.  "Oh, just co–" She paused, her disgust returning tenfold.  "Follow me," she groused, grabbing Twilight's tail in her teeth and hauling her into town.

Taken

After hours of breathing the rancid air that could only be left by rotten potatoes, Prince Blueblood finally had the old burlap sack lifted from over his head. Much to his chagrin, however, his horn was still laced with countermagic and his hooves were still tied together like a pig’s.

He peered around the room--no, the dungeon he was now in. It certainly felt like a dungeon. It had no windows, the air was dank and stagnant, the walls were made of uncut cobblestone. It wouldn’t have surprised him to learn that hundreds of spiders made their homes in the crevices of this place. There was one door, made of what had to be solid steel, at the other end of the room. At its top was a small slot, and when he tried to peer through it, it slid shut. There was no handle. The room-dungeon had one light, a lamp, shining in his face, and blindingly so.

“Untie me at once!” he shouted. Or tried to shout, as he also had his mouth taped shut, so it came out as “Mmph mmph mm-mph!”

And with that, a glow of magic surrounded the tape and tore it off, causing the prince to let loose a colorful stream of expletives.

The standard thoughts that one thought after being kidnapped went through his head. First, who grabbed him? The last thing he remembered was riding his aunt’s new chariot back to the castle, crashing it somewhere, stumbling about the eastern quarter drunk out of his mind, and emptying the contents of his stomach into some unlucky sod’s bird bath. Second, why was he grabbed? The answer to that, of course, depended on the answer to the first.

“Who are you?!” he demanded.

But there came no answer from the door. He shouted again, but the door remained silent as the stone in the walls. He pondered who it could have been. The last two times he was kidnapped, it was for ransom, but he was released after the kidnappers learned that nopony at the castle was willing to pay for his return. It couldn’t be for ransom. An old flame, perhaps? He didn’t leave many of them on good terms.

“Twinkleshine? Is that you? Moonbeam? Poppy Dreams?”

No, it couldn’t have been them. If those three were willing to kidnap him, they’d be willing to kill him. That also ruled out about nine others.

He hummed pensively. “Heartlace? Marigold? I’m pretty sure you were the ones I didn’t infect.” He hummed again, then bit his lips.

“Are you... Pierce?”

Silence. Perhaps not.

“Cloverleaf, if it’s you, I’ll pay all those tabs. I’ll pay! My aunt’s the herself-damned princess; you know that! I swear I’ll pay!”

More silence.

He squirmed around on the ground, his hooves still tied, the light still in his face. He had no idea who was behind that door. Whoever it was--he knew this much--had something against him. Something personal.

And until he found out who it was or whoever it was was satisfied, he would keep shouting blind apologies into the emptiness.

Atop the observation tower, Luna stepped away from the scrying orb. Celestia and her new intelligence force kept watching.

“Surely,” she said, looking down at the royal dungeon, “there must be a better--or at least, a more ethical way to test new interrogation techniques.”

“Perhaps,” replied Celestia. “but I find demonstration and hands-on experience to be as enlightening as it is rewarding for both myself and my students. Now keep listening; I want to know what he did to my new chariot.”

The Heart Holds Grudges With Gravity

"Dagnabbit, Rarity, that is the last straw!" Applejack stomped, leaning down and snorting.  "I've plum had it with you!"

Rarity sniffed, lifting her head away from Applejack.  "I will apologize only for the timing of my statement, not for what I said."

Twilight's head swiveled back and forth between her two friends.  She took a step forward.  "Rarity... Applejack..."

A hoof on her shoulder stopped her.  Looking back, she saw Rainbow Dash shake her head.

"Let them, Twilight," Rainbow said gravely.  "This is an old argument.  They... they've been fighting about this since before you met any of us."

Twilight felt tears sting the corners of her eyes.  "But... I can't just sit here and watch my friends hurt each other..."

Fluttershy stepped forward.  "Rainbow Dash is right.  They need this, Twilight."

Twilight felt she had no choice but to watch, given the weight of her kindest friend's words.  Applejack and Rarity had stepped toward each other, noses separated by mere inches.

"You ready to do this?" Applejack growled, eyes glinting.

"I've been ready," Rarity huffed.

Applejack tossed her head back.  "Pinkie Pie!"

"On it, AJ!"

Pinkie appeared between them, carrying a blue and silver boom box.  Setting it down, she popped it open and inserted a cassette.  She pressed play, and the area was filled with a rapid bass beat that was quickly accompanied by a synthesized melody.

Applejack was first to react.  She reared back, placing her forehooves on her hips, and shook them at Rarity.  Rarity spun about and began to step backwards in time with the beat.  Applejack tipped her hat brim over her eyes, her other hoof shooting skyward.  The hoof began to pump up and down, also in time with the beat.

Twilight gasped.  "I've read about this, but I never thought I'd actually see..."

"Shh." Rainbow Dash grinned.  "It's just gettin' good."

Rarity stood, moving her shoulders back and forth and giving Applejack a smoldering pout.  Applejack's hat whipped upward as she performed a backflip, then landed squarely on her head as she slid onto her back, curling up and spinning in a tight circle.  Rarity shook her shoulders, stepping closer to Applejack, who finished her spin, posing on her side.

Fluttershy began to clap her hooves, smiling, and Rainbow Dash kept time with her left front.  Even Twilight had to admit, her friends' moves were pretty fresh.

Rarity segued into a series of graceful leaps, posing her arms during each, while Applejack began to soft-shoe.  The music hit a pause, and they both stopped, resuming precisely where they had left off after the beat picked up.  The two mares performed a simultaneous flip, spinning on a forehoof and moving their hind legs in sync with the music.

Pinkie kept her eyes glued to a stopwatch, sweat pouring down her face.  About the time Rarity began to Cabbage Patch, she yelled, "Time!" and the music cut out.

With laughter and smiles, Rarity and Applejack embraced in a tight, back-slapping hug, then wandered off, chatting amiably.  Twilight gave her friends a confused look.

"Wait... that's it?"

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes.  "Twilight, I thought you said you'd read about this."

"Having a dance-off is just as a good as saying, 'Our problems are solved,'" Fluttershy explained.

This did not seem to sit well with Twilight, but she couldn't come up with an appropriate objection before Pinkie hopped over, carrying her boombox.

"C'mon, girls!" she cried.  "We're gonna go get ice cream!"

The boombox transformed into a giant blue robot, who scooped the ponies up and flew off to get them ice cream.

Burdens of the Crown

The Princess of Love was angry.

It shouldn't even be possible for her horn to hurt from maintaining this spell, but then few spellcasters were ever required to keep up such extreme feats of magical stamina.  If not for her alicorn physiology, she'd have given out days ago.  Even that was being taxed now Sombra had reached the barrier.

At the same time, she could see, far below the Crystal Palace, a sextet of ponies including her new sister-in-law singing and dancing as they...

"What are they doing?" she grumbled.  Somepony jerked beside her.

"Huhwha?  Cadie, y'okay?"

Cadance turned her head towards her husband, who was trying unsuccessfully to stifle yawning.  Shining gave her a tired smile, stretching.

"Shining, you're supposed to keep me awake."

He winced.  "Sorry, baby, I'm trying.  I have to be honest, it's really boring."

Cadance bit back a retort.  Exhaustion crept in, misdirecting her emotions.  "Could you tell me what your sister's friends are up to?"

Shining Armor trotted to the window, surveying the scene.  His eyes lit up after a moment.

"They're montaging!" He turned to her, smiling.  "Twilie wrote to mom and dad about Winter Wrap-Up one.  It's how they get big tasks done in Ponyville!"

"By singing, dancing and having fun?" Cadance' eyes narrowed.  "Do they understand what a threat King Sombra is, not only to the Crystal Kingdom, but all of Equestria?"

He moved back toward her, putting a hoof on her shoulder.  The touch calmed her boiling rage.

"They know.  They're good ponies, from good lives.  This is how they deal with crises.  They'll get the job done, and you'll see that calling them was a good idea."

His stomach gurgled audibly.

"Whoa!" he laughed.  "Guess I shouldn't've eaten that fifth corndog last night.  Be right back, babe."

She leaned away from his kiss, scowling.  "You can't just leave me!"

"I said I'll be right back." Shining rolled his eyes.  "Just gotta take a quick dump.  And since we're not in a warzone or anything, it's probably better if I go to the little colts' room." He turned to leave.

"But," Cadance's eyes searched him, desperate, as she tried to think around her spell.  "What if I pass out?  Sombra could attack at any minute!"

"Seriously." Shining gave her a look.  "Cade.  Won't be a minute.  Nothing will happen."

She couldn't hold it back any longer.  "And have you ever even been in a war?"

That got his attention.  He stopped, mid-stride, turning to face her with a glower.

"Listen up, soldier!" he barked.  "Do you think this is a war or a fillies' sleepover?  You don't have time to worry about what's happening next, you just do, understand me?"

He walked up, pressing his nose against hers.  "The fate of the Crystal Kingdom, neigh, the entirety of Equestria is on.  Your.  Head!  Are you gonna let a two-minute interruption in your schedule break your concentration?"

"N-no..."

"I can't hear you!"

Cadance drew up straight.  "No, sir!"

"That's better." Shining smirked, taking a step back.  "Now you just sit right there on your pretty little derriere and keep that spell going.  I'm gonna drop the kids off at the pool, and if you so much as bat an eye while I'm gone, I swear to your Aunt I will throw you off a balcony.  Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir!"

Shining relaxed, grinning at her.  "Yeah, I've had my share of field training.  Love ya, Cadie."

And, blowing a kiss to her, he trotted off to the little colts' room.

Luck of the Draw

Another Summer Sun Celebration, and a decade since the last one in Ponyville. Lots of things had changed in the interim. Lots of things hadn’t.

Derpy trotted past streamers, bunting, and balloons tied to any convenient anchor point. All the committees—Pinkie Pie, that is—had arranged wonderful decorations, music, food.

Near the town square now, Derpy eased her pace and came to the center of the festivities. Ticket holders only. The attendant took hers and tossed it into a large glass bowl.

Derpy had been every year for as long as she could remember, no matter where in Equestria. The small-town ones were her favorites, though. Not too fancy. She had to save all year—the ticket itself was two months’ salary, to say nothing of transportation or a hotel—but it was worth it. Her own little treat to herself.

Dinky was off playing in the kids’ area—young enough to get in free, but just barely. Derpy couldn’t afford tickets for both of them, so this might be her last year. She sighed and stared at that ticket.

A few ponies waved to her on her way to the refreshment tables, but only if she waved first. Flitter, Thunderlane, Rainbow Dash... Carrot Top. Actually, Carrot Top waved as soon as she saw Derpy. She was always so sweet. Derpy started heading over to her, but the three ponies with her exchanged a whisper. No, she wouldn’t do that to her friend.

Grabbing just one muffin—she needed to pace herself—she found an out-of-the-way hay bale to sit on. The sun would rise soon.

All day long: get up, grab muffin, sit, eat, wait. That was okay. Watching everypony else having fun was fun, too.

And with the setting sun touching the horizon, it was time. The ceremonial knife lay beside the dignitaries’ cake, a front-row seat for the Wonderbolts’ show awaited an occupant, and the band stood ready to play the traditional first dance. One lucky pony would get to do it all.

Celestia rummaged through the glass bowl and pulled a ticket out. “And the honorary Grand Marshal this year is... Derpy!”

Dead silence.

Derpy’s knees shook, and her breath rasped. A few ponies snickered and looked at that large knife. “How many ponies will get hurt?” they seemed to ask. The band members glanced at each other. “If she can’t keep the beat, just play on—it’ll be over with soon enough,” their faces said. And who would she choose for the honor of sharing that dance? Caramel stared at his feet, Thunderlane studied the architecture, Noteworthy stepped behind a wagon... Even the mares. All except Carrot Top, but Derpy wouldn’t do that to her.

“No.” Derpy’s hoarse whisper carried throughout the square. She turned and ran.

Somepony stepped into the alley where Derpy was huddled. Shouts and cheers echoed from the square, but they were muffled here. She didn’t look up.

“May I have this dance?” Big Mac asked.

“You don’t have to,” she said into her hooves.

“Exactly.”

She sniffled and waited. But he didn’t leave.

“Carrot Top was worried. I told her I’d find you. Ain’t fair how you’ve been treated.” Big Mac took her foreleg and pulled her to her hooves. “C’mon.” And alone in the dimness, they danced.

Swaying side to side, slowly spinning, all to a quiet country waltz that he hummed. She stumbled, tripped, knocked over a rain barrel. But each time, he held her up and adjusted his music to her rhythm.

She curled her forelegs around him and pressed her face into his neck, tears trickling from her closed eyes. And they danced.

"What happened to us, sister?" Octavia asked...

“What happened to us, sister?” Octavia asked the mare next to her,  gripping the plastic party cup in between her hooves. “Even after being separated for all these years, when did we stop just trusting in one another?”

Vinyl Scratch flicked a hoof on the bar top, watching the party flow around them. “I dunno, Tavi. I mean, things were rough for me for a while. I got outta the habit of not just buyin’ in to everything ponies told me.” Scratch drank down the remainder of her hoofdriver, tossing  the cup back onto the bar. “Didn’t help that we never got ‘round to writing each other, I s’pose.”

The dark eyes of the cellist watched her DJ sister slowly crawling back into her shell. Not again, Vinyl. Octavia reached out and grasped Vinyl’s shoulder, tugging her around on the barstool with an understanding smile. “Of all the ponies in the world, Vinyl Scratch – you are still the most maddening when you don’t wish to speak.  Of course, that’s part of your charm.”

Vinyl blinked back and her jaw dropped open a bit. “Bwuh? The buck you talkin about, sis?” Vinyl’s face scrunched up in confusion, with Octavia giggling at the sight. “Hey! What’s so funny?” Vinyl’s tone became cross, and she half glared at her sister from behind her trademark sunglasses.

Octavia just pressed her hooves to her mouth, shaking her head emphatically.  It took her a few moments to fight down the giggles, coughing a little into her hooves. I think we ought to try a different tack, so to speak.” Octavia set her cup down on the bar and hopped off the stool.

Vinyl blinked, but followed her sister down from the bar, over to the central dance floor. “Tell me, Vinyl.” Octavia spoke loudly through the pulse of the music  “Do DJ’s carry anything other than these wubs you are so in love with?”  Octavia had a mischievous twinkle in her eye, and Vinyl could not fathom where she was going with this but…

Vinyl had to yell a bit, even though they were nowhere near the speaker system. “Well Yeah! Why d’you ask? This music is rockin!” Octavia coyly put her hoof to her mouth and then quickly dashed off behind the DJ booth.

Vinyl could only watch as she clambered up to where DJ Dedpon1 was laying down the beats,  and tap at his shoulder. Dedpon1 looked amused but pulled off a headphone to lean down and Listen to Octy, who was hiding her words behind a hoof.

After a few moments, the legendary DJ grinned like a madman and nodded repeatedly. Vinyl was still watching the DJ pull something from deep inside his stacks of records as Octavia tugged at her hoof. “C’mon, Vinyl. They’re going to play our song.”

Vinyl let herself be dragged out onto the dance floor, as the DJ called out over the mic  “Awright! We got a special request for the special couple here tonight!  Clear some space for em, Everypony!” The crowd cleared away for the pair of them, cheering and hooting loudly.

Octavia smiled and grasped Vinyl’s hoof, pulling her into one of the more complex upright dances of Canterlot high society. “Sis, what…?” Vinyl tried to speak, as music began to flow out of the speakers.

“I hope you never lose your sense of wonder…”

“Sis.” Octavia whispered, softly stroking a hoof down the side of Vinyl's face. “Shut up and dance.” Her hooves were already moving them across the floor, the pair of bodies swaying to the tune.

And so they danced…

Snuff

Pinkie Pie struck the match.

The sound of it echoed throughout Sugarcube Corner. It reverberated and travelled to every dark corner of the empty bakery and beyond. For as long as it searched, it found no other of its kind. Eventually, it became so weak that it dissipated into nothingness.

Only one pony heard that sound, and that was the striker. She watched the flame as it danced at the end of her hoof. It seemed… happy. She smiled weakly as she observed the innocent little thing, new to this world and what little was left of it.

It had been ninety-seven days since her own birthday party. Ninety-seven days since Applejack had mentioned she was feeling “a little sick”. But over the next few days, they learned that she wasn’t just a little sick; she was very sick. So sick that… she died.

Pinkie felt a tear run down her cheek. Applejack’s words during her final moments echoed in her mind: “We’ll all be together again one day,” she had said, lying in the hospital bed. “Don’t be sad.”

But it had become harder and harder not to be sad. In the following weeks, more and more ponies got sick and passed away. She had said goodbye so many times, but it hadn’t become any less hard to say it. She’d smile, and they’d smile back, and then they were just… gone. They were all gone, and she missed every one of them, but especially her best friends. And now, the only friend that Pinkie had in the world was that one little match.

She laid it down on the carpet. Slowly, she stepped back as it spread from the carpet to the floorboards and the edges of the house. Every hoofstep backwards was slow and stiff. Saying goodbye to herself was much more difficult to do than she had thought it would be.

Her hooves felt the cold dirt of the street, and she sat down to watch the bakery burn. Every other building in Ponyville was perfectly intact. But, Ponyville without ponies was hardly Ponyville at all. Her friends were all that mattered, them and their smiling faces. And that was what made life worth living; to see her friends happy. Now, well… the only face left was her own, and she didn’t have much to smile about any more.

The fire licked the upper edges of the open front door and began its ascent to the second floor. Embers glimmered and floated up into the night sky, joining the stars. The bright light and smoke of the fire were hiding the stars, but she knew they were there.

Pinkie looked at the fire as it flowed up from the floor of the bakery. Not ninety-seven days prior, her friends had been there dancing on that floor. It had been before any doubts, or pain, or loss, or grief. There had been happiness shared among them, a simple joy in being around ponies that cared for each other and loved each other as friends.

Now, she was sure she could see them again. Her five best friends were there in the fire, dancing to the high crackles and low roar of the blaze. They were smiling and happy, and Pinkie wanted nothing more than to be with them once more. Just to see their smiling faces and hear their laughter again: that would’ve been the most splendiferous thing in the whole wide world.

So she joined them.

When she was very small...

When she was very small, her grandmother had told her that there was nothing in life more important than memories. It didn’t really matter what kind they were: happy, sad, good, or bad. All of them were special, and important in their own peculiar way. Different colors of paint that formed a beautiful portrait; unique, peculiar flavors that mixed into the tastiest cake anypony ever baked. Without all its parts, the whole couldn’t exist. Without memories, there was no point in living long enough to remember.

So it was that life went on, every day an opportunity for new adventures and new memories. She had seen a lot of days by now, enough that she looked very much like Grandma had so long ago: her legs withered from too many hugs, her face wrinkled from too many smiles, her head bursting with tastes and colors too vivid to forget. The sun had set outside her window; it was time for her to sleep, to relish in the drying of the paint, the scent of delicious dough rising in the oven.

She made her way to her bed and slipped under the covers, her cheeks creased under the glint of the waning moon. She had known this time would come, just as day had ended and night begun. Just as it had for neighbors and naysayers, for family and friends. As it had for five young mares before her, and would for so many more after.

She had so much to remember, so many adventures to keep her warm as the room darkened around her. She remembered rivers she had crossed, castles she had climbed, colossal mountains higher than yawning canyons had been low. She remembered dragons and changelings and nightmares and dreams, and conquering each of them with her friends by her side. She remembered honesty, loyalty, kindness, generosity, magic. Friendship.

She remembered laughter.

She remembered parties. Parties for birthdays, for schooldays, for lazy Sundays, for hectic Mondays. Parties for celebration, parties for graduation, parties for no reason at all and parties for all the reasons in the world. She remembered balloons, streamers, ribbons, confetti, presents. Music.

She remembered dancing.

Yes. Dancing. They used to dance all the time, she and her friends. It’d been a while since she’d had a chance to try: too many birthdays passed, too many empty chairs at the table afterwards. That was all she had left now: memories, colors, flavors. Emptiness.

And yet, the night didn’t chill her, and the loss of the day didn’t fill her with fear. They were gone, their imprints on her mind all that remained of their time with her, but not forgotten. At twilight, she was alone, but when the sun slept, so would she. She would sleep, and she would dream, and they would greet her like an old friend, the last to arrive at a party that never had to end.

She laid her back against her pillow and closed her eyes, and soon enough her dream began. The darkness of the night vanished, driven away by a light so blinding it streamed right through her eyelids. Her bed left empty, she walked to the door, and as she opened it the light washed over her, and the stars fell like snowflakes from an endless yellow sky.

The years melted off her skin, pooling around her hooves in rainbow-streaked puddles as she bounced, then bounded, then sprinted through the fallen heavens. She ran for hours, for days, shedding decades and memories until finally the light swept her aching legs out from under her.

The sky shimmered. Only five stars remained. They smiled. She laughed.

And they danced.

So Long...

Beep.

I just wanted to make people feel better.

Beep.

What happened to it?

Beep.

All that innocent laughter we once shared?

Beep.

What happened to loving everyone?

Beep.

Why?

Beep.

I was supposed to bring joy.

Beep.

I was supposed to make people smile.

Beep.

Now all I’ve left behind is a legacy of disappointment.

Beep.

A child of pain.

Beep.

Why are we all so bitter?

Beep.

So quick to get ourselves worked up?

Beep.

Did I want to change?

Beep.

No, because I’m unique and I shouldn’t have to be

ashamed of that.

Beep.

But I accepted change.

Beep.

They made me into something I’m not, and I went along with it because I know a single truth.

Beep.

I’m not important.

Beep.

So why?

Beep.

Who were we protecting?

Beep.

Why was this so important?

Beep.

So maybe they’re just in it for the money.

Beep.

Maybe they’re just trying to protect themselves by doing this.

Beep.

But how can we know for sure?

Beep.

Is it fair to say they couldn’t have a good

reason?

Beep.

Is not hurting someone worth not doing something?

Beep.

Is fear of offense, or fear of someone being hurt, worth the price of silence?

Beep.

I don’t know.

Beep.

But was I worth it?

Beep.

Maybe we can tell them why we don’t agree with their decision, but was this crusade so worth fighting in the end?

Beep.

Why did my name have to become joined with such anger?

Beep.

With such venom and hatred?

Beep.

I

didn’t want that.

Beep.

I didn’t want that at all.

Beep.

And what did we gain by fighting for me?

Beep.

Did getting angry do anything?

Beep.

Did making a fuss over someone as unimportant as me prove anything?

Beep.

Or did it just

attach something to me?

Beep.

A bitter tumor of sorrow and pain, that I

now can never be rid of?

Beep.

So why?

Beep.

Why did this have to happen?

Beep.

Why did this have to be an issue?

Beep.

Why couldn’t we have let it go when it should have been let go?

Beep.

They didn’t

want to see someone hurt.

Beep.

I didn’t want to see someone hurt.

Beep.

None of you wanted to see anyone hurt.

Beep.

And yet, all this brought was more anger into the world.

Beep.

More hurt.

Beep.

I appreciated the support, and the emotions behind it, but why did this war have to be raged?

Beep.

Why did we need to get ourselves in such an uproar?

Beep.

I’m not even that important.

Beep.

I was never supposed to be.

Beep.

Why are my battles suddenly worth fighting?

Beep.

Why is the world like this?

Beep.

Why can’t we get along?

Beep.

I...

Beep.

I just don’t know what went wrong...

Beeeeeeeeeeeeee...