A Friend In Need [WORM/MLP]

I never really got why Cauldron made villain capes on purpose in the first place. I mean it seems very deleterious to the goal of holding society together. Even if their most important goal was defeating Scion, they knew that holding together a society was their best chance at having the strength to beat him.

Bolded the important bits. There IS a reason Cauldron makes villains: villains cause trauma to civilians, trauma causes trigger events, trigger events create new capes without the mess, fuss, and expenditure of resources to generate a vial. Cauldron is looking for a magic bullet cape to beat Scion. They don't know what they need, so they're using a shotgun approach, trying to get as wide a range of powers as they can in the hopes that SOMETHING will be able to kill Scion. I'm pretty sure Contessa came up with this plan.

To be fair, a lot of there worst creations, like Gray Boy, Siberian, and Shatterbird, were just straight up mistakes that they ultimately hoped to salvage something from. They even arranged to get rid of Grey Boy when he proved to be too powerful. Contessa, for all her power, is still one girl, and can't be in every place at once, so sometimes you have to prioritize clear world-ending threats over the purely evil ones to keep the world running.
 
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A short scene immediately following the last, essential editing as always by Deadpan.

Chapter 13 Part 2

Twilight trotted along the paved path, wanting space, but hoping to avoid drawing the attention a full gallop would have garnered. She knew without looking that this exercise in subtlety was pointless. Since the battle, there had always been at least a dozen eyes trained on her at any moment. Given gossip's noted ability to exceed the speed of light and break causality, she was quite sure the fact that she was upset had already reached the far side of the planet and likely already spanned the distance to Equestria as well.

She came to a stop on top of a small stone bridge that spanned a narrow neck of the lake, noting her watchers' attempts at not looking like they were concerned with her sudden movement and had just found their new positions more favorable by coincidence. She reared up and placed her hooves upon the stone railing, looking out over the lake. As she stared at the water, trees, and the towering buildings beyond she felt a wellspring of snark bubble up from the lake of confused emotions swirling around in her head.


"Dear Princess Celestia,

Today I learned that making friends can imperil the universe and that sometimes friends, even ponies you thought were the pinnacle of wisdom and intelligence, can be stupid enough to entrust the fundamental concepts of friendship and magic to an anti-social shut in, without asking!

Sincerely,

Twilight Sparkle
Princess of What-The-Flank-Were-You-Thinking

PS: Nice touch sending your sister to break the news. Perhaps there exists another set of elements you forgot to mention? Betrayal, Deception, Manipulation, Selfishness, and Egoism with a sixth hidden element of Cowardice that only appears when you bring the others together?"

Twilight's face contorted, the snark and disdain in it replaced with a wistful, longing sadness.

"PPS: Help."


Twilight took a deep breath, bringing a hoof to her chest, and let it back out. She wasn't sure if she felt a little better now that she let that out, or if she was just confusing resignation with catharsis. Part of her was thankful at least that Spike wasn't there to send this particular letter off until she cooled down, while another part was equally resentful of the same fact. She was just starting to theorize about what would be required to craft a trans-dimensional message flame spell, which was in no way an intentional attempt to not think about everything that she should be thinking about, when Taylor walked up beside her.

"So, I've got about thirty-five tons of bugs under my control at the moment. I've found that a large number of problems are resolved with a sufficient application of insects," Taylor said casually, cocking her head questioningly. The subtle background noise from the insects in the area increased noticeably for an instant before fading away again.

The sudden image of Princess Luna and Princess Celestia swarmed under a mountain of bugs startled a anxious laugh from her.

"Ha! Hic, I, well it might be satisfying, but I don't think it would really solve anything. I'm not sure it's something that can be solved really. I just have to accept it somehow, but I'm not sure I can," Twilight replied, her wings fidgeting nervously.

Taylor stepped closer and threw one arm across Twilight's withers, pressing against her in a warm side-hug.

"I think we've had a conversation like this before. Sunrise instead of sunset. When you can't fix what is bothering you, work on something else. Go with your strengths." Twilight smiled a little and leaned into the hug, grateful for the contact and encouragement. Then frowned as an unwelcome thought intruded.

"What if my strengths are the problem?"

Taylor, even through her mask, managed to convey incredulity. "Ok, I don't know what you and Princess Luna discussed, but what you just said makes no sense. In a month you've done more for our planet than anyone I can think of has in a lifetime."

"But-" Twilight started to speak but Taylor interrupted her.

"No. Whatever this is about, you're overthinking it. It doesn't matter how strong you are or where your strength lies, what matters is what you do with the strength you have. What matters is who you are underneath that strength. You're Twilight Sparkle, that's enough for me." She then flicked a lighter in her left hand and a small flame burst into a fireball that Flame Dancer jumped out of before extinguishing itself. The costumed girl wasted no time before hugging Twilight as well. Before Twilight could respond Taylor spoke up again. "She made me promise to call her as soon as I was done talking, because apparently it interferes with proper hugging."

"Shh," Flame Dancer whispered.


As the three of them stood quietly together and watched the last of the red fade from the sky, Twilight let the worries that were consuming her drift away. They would be waiting for her, as sure as Celestia would rise in the morning, but for now, in this moment, the only thought that remained was this: it's nice to have friends.
 
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-Snip- She then flicked a lighter in her left hand and a small flame burst into a fireball that Flame Dancer jumped out of before extinguishing itself. The costumed girl wasted no time before hugging Twilight as well. Before Twilight could respond Taylor spoke up again. "She made me promise to call her as soon as I was done talking, because apparently it interferes with proper hugging."

"Shh," Flame Dancer whispered.
-Snip-

Somewhere in London, a building fire raged out of control. The owner, looks in horror. Then, a figure leaps from the flames, a figure of HUGS!

Any fire, at any time, HUGS could ensue. So, when you need a hug, set fire to something, and perhaps you might get it.
 
Back in Interlude 12, part 2, sopchoppy used some names for parahuman gangs active in NYC that I had recommended. Playing around with the concept, here is some more world-building that came out of that list.

Gangs of New York: Earth Bet

The gangs with significant super-powered members tend to be flashier, more theatrical, and have more of a theme than a real-world street gang. There are a lot of gangs in a lot of neighborhoods, but these are the ones with the most prominent parahuman presence. Some are more properly collections of smaller gangs that united behind a powerful leader or formed an alliance for common defense.

Adepts

The Adepts have a supernatural theme, either genuinely believing that their powers are magic or that reaching certain states of consciousness enhances those powers. Given that parahuman abilities register as magic to Twilight's senses, both views may be correct.

The Adepts are organized and structured with 15 parahuman full members and connections to a loose but widespread community of parahuman cult leaders and "normal" occultists, plus the usual criminal contacts. The leader, Epoch, is considered to be fairly high powered and an effective leader and planner. Their criminal activities are, in some ways, a side effect of their occult focus, such as drugs (also used for "expanding consciousness"), smuggling (of occult artifacts as well as items for sale), and prostitution (with a side of tantric rituals). They are probably the least violent of the prominent gangs, having a strict no-killing code.

The Adepts are strongest in East Village Manhattan, but they own properties scattered throughout the city. They seem to be less interested in territory of the conventional sense than in claiming what they see as key locations. Examples include the Fred F French building, Grand Central Terminal, and other landmarks with occult imagery worked into the design, locations connected to the spiritual awakenings of the 1960's or the spiritualist movement of the late 1800's, and places some member decides are important based on drawing a pentagram on a map or geomancy or ley-lines or feng-shui. This leads to conflict with whoever holds the territory around that location. One of the events leading to the expulsion of the Teeth from Hell's Kitchen was the beating they took from the Adepts over a place associated with Madame Blavatsky's Theosophical Society. The Adepts keep showing up at Chinese apothecaries looking for ingredients or "mystic lore of the orient" and then come into conflict with the Black Hands. And so on. They are also drawn to libraries, universities, and other centers of learning, and are responsible for a few museum robberies involving "relics of power".

They have ambitions for larger-scale influence, somewhat like the Elite with occult trappings. So, their larger goals and plans tend to be hidden, which is appropriate considering the original meaning of "occult". There aren't specific colors for this group, but pentacle pendants and other arcane trappings are the standard, with the Goth look still in fashion amongst them.

Black Hands

The Chinatown gang, or rather, gangs. There are at least nine separate but significant Chinese enclaves across Manhattan, Brooklyn, and Queens. The Black Hands is an overall name that the associated Chinese gangs unite under, to some extent, while maintaining their own identities. They are not fans of the ABB as they are specifically Chinese. This is more of a confederation united by shared interests than a centralized organization, and the chapters of this gang tend to be divided along language and ethnic lines within the Chinese community. They have little interest in expanding very far outside the Chinatown areas, but are very aggressive in defending their turf and will clash with gangs in neighboring territories. They do, to some extent, embrace the kung-fu stereotype in their choice of weaponry, clothing, and fighting styles, though each individual gang has its own focus and trademarks. None of which should be taken to mean they don't also have guns.

Dingos

A notorious motorcycle club. The original branch of the Dingos is found in Australia, but the US branch is essentially a separate organization, centered in the Bronx and New Jersey, but with smaller chapters spread from North Carolina to Maine. They make most of their money as suppliers and transporters of drugs and other illicit substances, as well as running protection rackets near their bases of power. They have spent the last few years clashing with the Teeth in the Bronx, and have managed to outlast them and drive them into Brooklyn by having a wider network to draw upon and by forming a temporary alliance with the Bronx Protectorate team. Now their attention is likely to turn to the upstart Moonrunners who took over the Bronx's east side while everyone else was busy with the Teeth. The Dingo's "look" is that of most motorcycle clubs, with leather jackets featuring their name and logo, along with motorcycle riding leathers or more high-tech riding gear that also doubles as light armor. Several of the Dingo capes have costumes along these lines incorporating extra decorations and unique helmets.

Easy Aces

Based out of Yonkers, and getting their start by controlling the gambling interests of the raceway and casino there, they have recently expanded by acting as middlemen and brokers for the gangs of New York and Connecticut. As such, they tend to be neutral parties offering neutral territory for meetings and the like. They also offer money laundering services along with their activities as bookies and general gambling. Debts will be collected, one way or another. Members "flying the flag" will wear things like playing cards in hat bands or a necklace of dice and poker chips. There may be some sort of code involved in what is worn and how it is displayed.

Elite

A nationwide organized group. They are tied to organized crime, but aiming higher to become the power behind the scenes across North America. They target politics, entertainment, and big business, as well as being aggressive in their recruitment of rogues and other independent parahumans. They have been trying to gain ground in NYC for some time, as it is a hub of the sort of power that interests them, but they are up against Legend and Protectorate HQ.

Fastballs

Based out of the warren of junk and scrap yards of Willets Point and the dominant gang in Flushing Queens, their members usually wear modified baseball jerseys and hats and are fond of using baseball bats when sending a message to those who have crossed them. Their habit of distributing a portion of the gang's take to the poorer residents of the neighborhood as well as their distinctive clothing has earned them the reputation as a modern day band of Merry Men. The loyalty of the neighborhood ensures that they have an extensive network of lookouts and informers, ensuring that home field advantage is alive and well when dealing with them. Regardless of their charitable acts, they have been implicated in extortion, protection, murder, and ruthless intimidation of anyone that does not toe their line. They defend their territory with a ruthlessness that is nearly unmatched in the New York area.

Hoplites

Based out of East-Harlem, the predominantly Puerto Rican gang is led by a thinker and tinker duo that supply strategy and armor for the gang's members, in recent years they have clashed with a branch of the Black Hands trying to establish themselves in the growing Chinese community in the neighborhood, as well as repelling one attempt by the Teeth to move in. They tend to be better equipped, disciplined, and use better tactics than most gangs and have held their own in one of the more sought after territories in the city.

Judas Bunch

Centered in the Meatpacking District of Manhattan, this gang eschews casually apparent colors and tags and tends to avoid open confrontation with the law and other gangs. Information brokers, bookies, and blackmailers, they tend to slip under the radar, which is just how they like it. They are far from harmless, however, and more than one person has disappeared weeks after their last thought of the gang.

Moonrunners

Holding territory in the Pelham area of the Bronx, this group has recently risen to the level of deserving a place on this list. This is due partly to a campaign of aggressive tagging and actions intended to draw attention and promote themselves. They are still limited in fighting strength, but have effective teamwork among their core parahuman members, smart planning, and good networking. They are particularly effective at burglary and have escalated to using blackmail to shield themselves from interference. By their location, conflict with the Dingos is likely to escalate in the future. The Moonrunners seem eager to draw attention and announce their presence by wearing sliver-blue jackets with their name and tag on the back, or silver moon-themed jewelry.

Stonebreakers

The biggest gang in Staten Island with a name originally taken from Graniteville Quarry Park. With extensive ties to the unions and construction industry, it is rumored that there isn't a job site in the city that doesn't have at least one member around, their signature weapon, hammers, going unnoticed by the uninitiated as they hang from their members' tool belts.

Teeth

Noted for being particularly violent and crazy. They tend to be the group everyone hates, but also fears, due to the powers and nature of the Butcher. They have a long history, as parahuman gangs go, but have also moved around a lot due to concerted efforts by law enforcement and other criminal elements, sometimes in temporary alliance, to drive them out of wherever they set up. They tend to claim areas that are the worst off, socially and economically. Kind of like the Brockton Bay Merchants but with heavier hitters. Their anchor point in New York City has switched between Hell's Kitchen in Manhattan, Stapleton in Staten Island, Hunts Point in the Bronx, Morissania in the Bronx, and they are currently operating out of Brownsville in Brooklyn. They've tried to take root in sections of Harlem on two occasions, but were driven off by the Zulu's the first time and by the Hoplites the second. Despite, or maybe because, of all this, the Teeth have a tendency to pop up at random anywhere in the city. Planning and organization is not this group's strong point, as their leader is multiple flavors of crazy, so they tend towards crimes of opportunity.

Zulus

The most prominent African-American gang of New York, and likely the second largest group of capes in the city after the Protectorate. The Zulus started off as an attempt by the gang leader Mandlenkosi (Zulu name meaning "power of god") to do for "African" gangs what Lung would pull off with "Asian" gangs in Brockton Bay later. Mandlenkosi was largely successful and held a place as a prominent and controversial figure in national African-American affairs for years. After his death and without his force of personality, the gang's unity has strained, with infighting springing up among the various sub-chapters. Everyone is waiting for the match that will set off the civil war that has been brewing for years, but it has not happened...yet.

Adding to these difficulties is the fact that the various Zulu territories are spread out across the entire city and often separated by rival gangs. This leads them to sharing borders with more gangs than any other, and thus are forced to expend a large amount of resources defending their turf.

Years back, the hard-core Zulus would wear some version of the amaShoba armbands or leggings that are associated with the actual African Zulus and were part of Mandlenkosi's costume. These days, they mostly wear whatever colors or accoutrements are associated with their particular chapter.
 
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I hope everyone had a happy holidays! I took on a new job just before them, and my planned relaxing weeks of getting writing done turned into a hectic chaos of lots of work and relatives and very little time to write. But Things have calmed down and I was actually able to get back in the saddle this week. As always Deadpan spared your eyes many many errors. Thanks be to him.

So, after much delay:

Chapter 13, Part 3

Hours later, Twilight stood looking out of a large glass window at the city and park stretching out below her. The suite of rooms that had been provided to their…whatever you called the semi-official diplomatic hodgepodge and honor guard, was magnificently furnished and quite lovely. Twilight had found, however, that while efforts had obviously been made to try and modify things to better suit Twilight and Luna's physiological differences from humans, there was only so much that could be done on short notice. Every passage and doorway was too narrow for a quadruped to turn around in without risking paintings or knocking into the walls. When combined with a ceiling height more suited to manors and palaces, it left her feeling like she was looking into a funhouse reflection of a noble's house rather than the real thing. No matter how awkward the proportions were for her, however, she was sure they were worse for Luna. She was quite sure she had heard some old-equestrian curses while Luna was bathing that had probably peeled the paint from the room's walls.

Still she was impressed by the thoughtfulness their hosts had put into the arrangements, especially the arrangements. Nearly every flat surface held at least one tastefully designed bouquet, many of which featured daisies prominently. She had been disappointed in the taste after longing for them for so long. Her first bite had been marred by a harsh chemical residue that she discovered covered most of the flowers. Some kind of preservative possibly that the hotel attendants had not thought of removing given the rarity of flowers in human diets perhaps. She apparently hadn't hidden her grimace at the taste well, and she was afraid she had offended or insulted the dignified and polite attendant the hotel had assigned her given the quickly disguised shock that had passed over his face. He reminded Twilight of Celestia's royal scheduling advisor and she wondered if a "butler" was the human equivalent of the title.

After she had given the butler leave and rinsed the flowers thoroughly, she found them a pale echo of the daisies they so closely resembled from her home. They lacked the distinctive zest of their Equestrian counterparts. It was the thought that counted, however, and it had not stopped her from consuming three of the most artfully made arrangements. Even a pale echo was a taste closer to home than she had since she arrived. Besides, it would be rude to let all of that food and effort go to waste.

She had steadfastly held onto her conviction to not disturb the beautiful bookcase full of what looked like delightfully thick and musty tomes of human literature in the fear that if she started, she would be unable to stop before dawn and the obligations that she would need to be fresh and ready for.

Just like that, her carefully planned innocuous musings had led her right back into deep breathing territory. There was simply no way the situation made any sense to her. She felt both too small and too big for what was going to be asked of her.

Either the humans were going to be negotiating an inter-species and extra-Equestrian treaty with a glorified librarian or they were going to be treating with an embodiment of the universe itself. Both ideas were patently ridiculous on their face. The whole idea of Twilight Sparkle as she now understood it was beyond ridiculous. She would bring, at the best, incompetence or, worse still, ruin to whatever she was involved in. What was she even doing here? What had Cele- No, deep-breath, deep-

"Twilight?" The soft voice of Flame Dancer from behind her caused Twilight to leap and twirl in the air, spreading her wings in an instinctual response to gain altitude. The result was two broken vases and a slightly bruised human and pony in an uncomfortable tangle on the floor. Twilight groaned and managed to untwine her legs from Flame Dancer's. The human girl took the opportunity to rearrange herself into a cross-legged seating position that looked anything but comfortable to Twilight's equine eyes. Before she could think any more on it, Flame Dancer's hand found its way to the back of her neck and started a firm massage that drove that and, any other thought, out of her head for the next several minutes.

"You're not going to mess up you know," Flame Dancer said after slowly easing off the massage and turning it into a one-armed embrace.

"…What?" Twilight intelligently replied to the non-sequitur.

"You're not going to mess up," the girl beside her repeated. "You worry about it all the time. From the moment I first meet you, I've felt you worrying about it. The only time you're not worrying is when you're doing, and every time you're doing, well, you're doing just fine."

"That's…that's not true. I'm not…I wasn't prepared for this! Any of this. It's too much for me and people keep dying or getting hurt, or cities I show up in get attacked by crazies and monsters! Come to think of it, I'm quite sure Celestia's endorsement is the only reason I wasn't run out of Ponyville long ago. Even before I came here I was a walking disaster. The Princess should have used the Elements on me! Discord, Chrysalis, Sombra, wheel-hating unicorns driven mad by dark magic, Jack, Leviathan, the Simurgh? Do I somehow unconsciously call monsters to me like an autistic pied piper of the Apocalypse? Are they just the introductory act to the destruction I'll one day reap on my own, wholly un-assisted?!? Maybe my special talent is really destruction? I certainly destroyed the building I was in when I got my cutie-mark." Twilight was halfway to standing again when she felt Flame Dancer's grip on her neck tighten and her entire weight come down across her back. Her hooves slid out from under her and she landed on her barrel with an audible "ooph" that dazed her long enough for the girl to swing a leg over her back and seat herself completely on top of Twilight. Before Twilight gathered herself, Flame Dancer went back to working the knots out of the muscles of her friend's neck.

"Stop that. Stop doing that to yourself. You're the most wonderful pony or person I know. Just because bad things have happened to you or around you, that doesn't make you bad. And they only happen so much around you because I've never seen you turn away from someone in need. Even if you don't think you can help, you always try anyway. You're always there. The monsters aren't following you Twilight, you're chasing them down."

"No…I, I mean…you're just saying that because I broke y-"

"Shh. Just listen to me, ok?" she asked as she worked her hands through Twilight's mane. "I know you worry about that too. I've seen the looks you've given me when you thought I wouldn't notice. After we fought the Simurgh, after you talked with Luna. I, I am different. There's no way I couldn't be a different person from who I was and be safe to be around. You healed a hole in me that was filled with ashes and pain and put love and acceptance in its place. I'm not that girl any more. She's gone, but I remember her and I remember how she thought and there's nothing she wanted more than what you gave her-me. I have friends. I'm loved and cared for and I love and care for them in return." Flame Dancer took a deep slow breath and let it out, closing her eyes as a smile spread across her face. "If I concentrate, I can feel it. I can feel you and Taylor. I can feel Princess Luna and the others. I can feel them caring, and worrying, and bickering, playing. I have friends and it's the greatest thing I've ever felt and you're the one that showed me it was there, just waiting for me in the light."

Flame Dancer took another breath and let it out before continuing in a somewhat lighter tone. "So stop putting my friend down. Stop digging for the dark parts of yourself and stop straining so hard to hear the bad voices that live inside of you. Because you'll find them. I don't think anyone lives without them, but the dark is so small next to your light Twilight. I've seen it. You're so bright it hurts to look at and I still can't turn away. As for the voices, you showed me that they're no match for the voices of your friends when you're willing to listen to them."

Twilight released the breath that she'd been holding, let her friend's words soak into her, and felt some of the tension that had been building up inside her unwind. There was no doubt that Flame Dancer was unbelievably biased when it came to her, possibly unhealthfully so. At the same time there was no doubting the sincerity of the girl. There was no duplicity in her, something Twilight was sure was true both before and after her exposure to the Elements. Flame Dancer was right about one thing. Even if she couldn't trust herself, she could trust her friends. They wouldn't let her fall. And quite possibly she could convince one or two of them to help her practice her speech tonight so she wouldn't look like an idiot tomorrow.

Twilight smiled. She might not be ready to take on cosmic responsibility, but lecturing a captive audience? Yeah, she could do that.

"Flame Dancer?"

"Hmm?"



"Find me some note cards."
 
Still she was impressed by the thoughtfulness their hosts had put into the arrangements, especially the arrangements.

I don't know how to parse this sentence. I think you wrote it one way, then rewrote most of it the other way but didn't quite remove the previous iteration?

"Find me some note cards."
Twilight should take a page from The Techno Queen's book -- have a machine that plays a "Dun Dun DUN!" tune whenever she says something like this ;)
 
And now, an officially authorized necro. As in, I ran this by sopchoppy and was told to, "post it."

I've been on a Pratchett kick lately. Not just Discworld, but also things like his collected non-fiction essays. Which led to this.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

I am frequently asked questions. "Would you sign my book?" "How do I become a writer?" "When's that manuscript coming in?" "You call this literature?" I'm particularly fond of, "What would you like to drink?" I've fielded that last one a gratifying number of times over the last day, but I had to beg off sooner than I used to. My age and medications recommend moderation and unequivocally demand a run to the loo after each glass.

When I got home there was a new question waiting from my publicist, "What are your thoughts regarding the unicorns?"

My first thought was, "Why are you asking me?" That question came and went quickly as I've been in this business long enough to know how this goes. People want to read about a particular thing. Newspapers want words to print that people want to read. Interns draw up lists of people who might be prodded into writing or saying something interesting on the subject. This includes people famous enough that other people will read their opinions regardless of the quality of those opinions or of how they are expressed. In this case, I was probably put on the list because I am known for writing "fantasy" and the words "unicorn" and "magic" are involved. "Princess" isn't considered a fantasy word by itself, but tends to amplify other such terms in the minds of many people.

My second thought was, "Whoever put my name down didn't think this through." Most folks view fantasy as the genre of stories-about-things-that-don't-exist-and-never-did. By that standard, unicorns stopped being a subject of fantasy the moment Twilight Sparkle turned up in person. If anyone tries to inform Princess Luna that she is a figment of the imagination, they are likely to come away with symptoms of tinnitus, and might count themselves lucky if that's the only consequence of that conversation. I'm still not clear on what Miss Sparkle is talking about when she mentions magic, but whatever it is works. Which may mean that most of the books in the fantasy section of your local bookstore should really be sorted into another aisle.

I hold the position that all stories tend to be fantasy by the standards I have just given. Intricately planed murders in isolated manors that a brilliant detective just happens to be visiting also don't exist in the real world. Or at least, there aren't enough of them to fill out an entire series. And we certainly don't live in a universe where the virtuous will win in the end simply because they are virtuous. My preference in fantasy is stories that take something familiar, but present it from an unfamiliar angle. Alas, Miss Sparkle has not been in residence long enough to become familiar.

Thus, I am completely unqualified to opine on the subject of unicorns that may be fantastic, but aren't fanciful. And yet I press on as that has rarely stopped me in the past and isn't likely to prevent me from being paid for these words in the present. I will say that they might have done better to consult authors associated with science fiction, the genre associated with things-that-aren't-real-but-might-be-someday. Then again, meeting aliens has also recently fallen out of the realm of fiction and that section of the bookstore may also be due for resorting. I read science fiction avidly in my youth and have tried my hand at it, but found that I needed a universe with more give to it that I could shape around the stories I wanted to tell.

One of the concepts I came across in my early years of science fiction was the word, "neoteny". This means that a creature retains some qualities of being a child even after becoming an adult. Humans have made neoteny into our primary survival strategy. Our tendency to poke things with sticks at a point in life where other creatures have left such curiosity behind may eventually save us or damn us, but it has led to having some marvelous sticks to poke with and a comfortable environment to poke from. Regarding Twilight Sparkle, I do not know if this is a quality of her species or simply of herself, but in watching her from afar and reading her words I have received the impression of a being who is childlike without being childish, in all the best ways, to a degree rarely seen on this world. And for that alone, I would welcome her.

Terry Pratchett
Broad Chalke
Wiltshire
May 17th 2011
 
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And We're back - limits on my revising and Deadpan's editing time will likely result in this long interlude being published over the next couple of weeks, but without further ado:

Interlude: Taylor Part 1/?


Taylor strode briskly up the stairwell of the hotel heading towards the roof. Twilight, Luna, and the rest of the "honor guard" had settled in for the night and she now felt free to address her own worries. She'd grown more and more restless since her talk with Twilight on the bridge that afternoon. She wasn't worried about Twilight. She meant everything she had said to the unicorn and stood by every bit of it. Power was a tool that was as good or bad, pure or flawed as the person that wielded it. She couldn't think of someone she would entrust with more power than Twilight Sparkle. It did, however, start her thinking about her own flaws, her own faults and biases, for the first time in a long time. Things had just moved so fast over the past month that she hadn't really had time to reflect. Or perhaps, if she was more honest with herself, she hadn't wanted to and used events to justify it. Whatever the case was, a justifiable excuse or an excuse used to justify, she was done with it now. Her friends were as safe as she could reasonably expect them to be. There was nothing bigger on the immediate horizon than Twilight giving a speech, and she had taken the time to look at herself and her actions. Not that she wasn't biased, but she thought she had done pretty well on most of those fronts. With one exception.

Her treatment of her father, no matter how hard he had made talking to him, was simply atrocious. In the calm after the storm of the past couple of days, and perhaps with the help of the clarity that whatever they had done together at the end had given, she could see how unfairly she had treated him. She could see how unfair her expectations of him, given what she hadn't told him, had been.

Pulling back the final layer, she thought maybe she had, on some level, engineered the rift. Because no matter how much she loved him, he was the last tether she had to her old life, her old self, to the person she had been and let go. But her father hadn't wanted to let that person go. He loved her, and didn't know her new self at all. How could he, when she declined to tell him anything about her. The excuse she had told herself at the time, that she was somehow protecting him by her silence, rang so hollow that for a moment she felt like she would vomit at the thought of it.

So, for the first time since confirming her father's shelter hadn't been hit in the attack and had suffered no casualties, she had gone looking for him on the FEMA camp rolls, and had not found anything. Then she had called the hospitals. Now she was going to ask a favor from the greatest tinker on the planet, and in so doing reveal the face under the mask to a third person.

She nodded to the guards posted at the roof entrance and something on their desk flashed green as she crested the last step. Then she stepped out into the brisk night air. Dragon's suit turned towards her from where it stood on the far edge, Taylor felt as though she could sense the Tinker's smile even before she was close enough to see if the suit was indeed making that expression when suddenly the feeling vanished and Dragon spoke.

"Skitter, is there something wrong?"

Taylor finished closing the distance between them and forced herself to speak. "I…" She took a deep breath and after sweeping the area with her bugs again continued. "Dragon, can you jam the area around us from anyone that could be listening in?"

The suit's worried expression deepened, somehow conveying the human emotion behind it perfectly despite its features not being entirely analogous to a humans. "Ok Skitter, anything said in a 10 foot sphere around us is as safe as I can make it."

Gathering herself, she spoke. "My name is Taylor Hebert. My Dad's name is Daniel Hebert. He was supposed to go to shelter 4C, but when I checked, he…he wasn't on the rolls, and I called the hospitals, and the camps, and no one's seen him!" Her swarm's volume increased as she pushed the anxiety out into it. "I know you probably have a thousand things more important, but can you look?"

"Of course Skit-Taylor," Dragon spoke with reassurance. "Just let me-" Then without warning the suit's expression transitioned from worry to sadness, stepping forward and wrapping its surprisingly warm and gentle arms around her. All at once she knew.

"Wh—when?"

"He was identified a few hours ago. He"

"N—" Whatever she had been going to say stuck in her throat. As though her body was refusing to speak it, as if acknowledging or even denying it out loud would make it real. She let Dragon hold her for another minute, as her face stayed dry and her swarm grew more and more frenzied. "I've got…I'm going to do a patrol, I need…I think a sweep of the perimeter with my bugs would be good." She said as she pushed herself back from Dragon. "Th…Thank you."

"Taylor I d…ok, I'll let everyone know. Stay safe Taylor. Remember I'm here, we're all here for you when you need us."

"I know, I, thank you Dragon."

Taylor spun around and when she made the stairs she nearly sprinted down them, the flyers she had that could handle the wind up on the roof following outside the building as she descended. Even as fast as she reached the lobby, there was already a half dozen PRT troopers and a Member of the New York Protectorate, Cache if she remembered correctly, obviously gearing up and planning on going with her.

Her friend had been worried about her, and no doubt in a situation like this having anyone go off alone was stupid as hell. Still, it grated. She was going out looking for trouble, and it was a hell of a lot less likely someone would take her up on her invitation with a Protectorate cape and a squad of troopers trailing behind her like the world's most menacing ducklings. She would have preferred to go alone, but didn't argue, just nodded and tagged each with a mosquito as she passed. They fell in behind her and followed her out onto the streets.

It didn't take long to reach the edge of the security perimeter, even pausing to check with cops, capes, or troops stationed at each intersection. A large part of her wanted to keep going. Get out past all the security and track down someone to hit, but she knew she couldn't. No matter that her da—, no matter. This was bigger than her. She wouldn't do that to her friends. Instead she directed her anger into the unseen spaces around them. Acres of agitated insects shared her will, and rats and other pests died by the hundreds as she passed. She wasn't under any illusions that she was doing anyone a service. No, she just wanted to inflict some pain on something. She just wanted something to be hurting as bad as she was right now.

Because, when you got right down to it, that's what she was really good at. Pain. Enduring it. Inflicting it. How much more to endure? How much more to inflict? The people she'd been paid to bring pain to, her mom, her ex-friend, her city, her dad. It would never be enough and she was never going to stop. Because, worse than the pain would be admitting that it had been pointless. Damnit, she had been such a bitch! She'd been so exhilarated after the battle she hadn't even thought about him. He'd been apoplectic when she'd called and told him she wasn't coming home the night she'd found Twilight in the warehouse. She could have told him then, she could have…God, why hadn't she told him everything then?

Another military transport truck rolled by, packed to the brim with heavily armed army personnel, and she started to make a more conscious note of just how much security had been piled into the surrounding blocks. It didn't feel right. Even for as big a deal as this was, it was too much. Someone, somewhere, thought something was going to go wrong in a big way. Not that they had thought to include any of the people at the center of it all in their suspicions. Her swarm's agitation kicked up another notch as she pushed that frustration out to it on top of all her other emotions.

She rounded a street corner and swept the shadows with her eyes even though her bugs had already told her they were clear. Two patrol cars were parked in the next intersection down and the patrolmen jumped from their relaxed position leaning against their cars when she came into view. She resumed her brisk pace as Cache and the PRT personnel made their own hasty check of the street before jogging to catch up. She listened with half a thousand ears as they called in and conferred with someone about us.

She'd had a few terse and awkward calls with her dad since then. Slowly, it seemed like they were inching towards having a real conversation. They just needed more time. Then the sirens had started and she'd called him and actually gotten through on the first ring.

"Da-"

"Taylor thank god, where are you? Can you get to 4C before lockdown?"

"Da, Dad…I don't have much time, but I didn't want you to worry. I won't be at the shelter."

"Gods Taylor! This isn't time for any more teenage rebellion. THIS IS AN ENDBRINGER! I don't care whatever stupid thing you've been doing you think is more important than everything I ever raised you to be, but it's not as important as your life. COME TO THE FUCKING SHELTER! RIGHT NOW!"

"LISTEN DAD! I"M NOT GOING TO BE THERE BECAUSE I'M A CAPE!"

"What?! Taylor I—"

"Not just any cape either, I'm in charge of protecting Twilight Sparkle. You know, the alien that took down the Nine and has been working on getting the city back together and trying to find a way to kill Leviathan? So maybe what I've been doing is just a little more important than getting tortured in school and ignored at home?!"

"Taylor..I'm..I don't..please."

"I've got to go. Get to the shelter Dad. After all this is over I promise I'll tell you everything."


Except those turned out to be the last words she would ever say to him. When things had finally calmed down enough for her to check, she'd found out that their shelter had come through the battle fine, no casualties at all. Despite being just outside some of the worst damage the city had suffered. There had been no chance of trying to track him down in the chaos, but once things settled down she was sure she would find his name on one of the FEMA camp rosters. Except, she had kept checking and his name never showed up anywhere. Then Dragon had…had. She was never going to see him again. Her swarm's drone increased and echoed off the buildings around her.

"Ma'am, are you ok? Did you sense something?" One of the troopers asked quietly from close by. She realized she had stopped dead and was simply standing in the street clenching her fists in time to the rising rhythmic sound of her swarm. The squad had spread out and their hands had all drifted towards their weapons. Checking the doors and corners of the alley. Focus, she had to focus, she had to breath so that she could answer him.

"No Sergeant, everythi—". She stopped. Between one heartbeat and the next five people had appeared in the alley behind them and the bugs on the two troopers facing that direction had disappeared from her senses. She dropped and rolled to her right towards the cover of a utility box on the corner while she formed her swarm into a barrier between the two groups. Finally, her voice caught up with her actions and she found herself yelling, "Capes!"
 
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Shit. Thanks to planetwide parties, Luna's sheanigans and assorted sentimental moments I forgot just how bad can things get in this particular fic.
 
"No Sergeant, everythi—". She stopped. Between one heartbeat and the next five people had appeared in the alley behind them and the bugs on the two troopers facing that direction had disappeared from her senses. She dropped and rolled to her right towards the cover of a utility box on the corner while she formed her swarm into a barrier between the two groups. Finally, her voice caught up with her actions and she found herself yelling, "Capes!"


On the other hand, that probably isn't how the intruders wanted to start the evening either.
Under a few tons of bugs.
 
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