Hey! It looks like you're new here. You might want to check out the introduction.
Show rules for this event
Princessence
Looking up from the clipboard floating in the glow of his horn, the stallion shrugged. "Sorry," he said. "We're all out."
"But—" Dinky flapped her new wings. "I finally got 'em this morning, see? I'm an alicorn now, and that means I get to be a princess!"
"Sorry." The way the stallion didn't even shrug this time made Dinky wonder how sorry he really was. "We assigned the last title two hours ago." The clipboard spun around just long enough for Dinky to see that the paper on it was blank, then he was pulling it back and turning to call across the empty desks of the office space behind the counter. "Isn't that right, boss?"
"Huh?" In a yellow-grey flash, an alicorn appeared, an alicorn whose eyes pointed in different directions.
"Mom?" Dinky's ears folded. "What're you doing here?"
"Dinky!" Another popping flash brought her mother into the lobby, that oh-so-familiar hug wrapping around Dinky. "It's my new title! I get a whole office to myself! Well, except for Ink Slinger." She flashed again and appeared behind the counter next to the stallion. "I'm the Princess of Princessence!"
"The—?"
"It means," Ink Slinger said, not looking away from the pyramid he'd begun building with pads of yellow sticky notes, "that she's in charge of princess titles. It was the last title on the list, and the Princess Council decided that she deserved it after all her—"
"So wait!" Dinky jumped up, her wings flaring. "Mom used to be the Princess of Postal Delivery To The Fifteen Hundred Block Of West Bridal Avenue In Ponyville! So if she's here now—"
"Sorry, honey." At least when Mom said it, the droop in her voice told Dinky she meant it. "Zipporwhill got her horn early this morning, so she got my old title. And with everypony becoming an alicorn lately—"
Ink Slinger cleared his throat, and Mom drooped a little more. "Every mare becoming an alicorn, I mean. Because, well, a stallion can't be a princess, can he?"
The smile that crawled over Ink Slinger's snout reminded Dinky of a slug. "And neither can your daughter."
"Honey?" Mom blinked at her. "Are you a stallion?"
Dinky found herself grinding her teeth to keep from shouting at her mother, but a pop startled her. Looking back, she saw a pale yellow alicorn materializing in a ball of dazzling light by the Princess Registry's door. "Whoa!" the newcomer said. "As the Princess of Turning That Frown Upside-Down, I must intervene!"
Recognizing the voice, Dinky had to stare. "Pumpkin? When did you get your wings?"
Pumpkin Cake grinned. "A couple minutes ago!" She spread them. "Aren't they great?"
"But—" The carpet felt like it was dropping away under Dinky's hooves. "You got a title?"
"Well, yeah." Pumpkin tossed her mane. "It's one Pinkie Pie took when she became an alicorn way back when. She's been saving it for me!"
"Saving it?" Dinky whirled to face the counter. "Mom! You could've saved a title for me?"
Mom was busy putting the finishing touches on a second sticky note pyramid while Ink Slinger was twisting paper clips into an aerial tramway connecting the two. "What was that, honey?" Mom asked.
Dinky fell back onto the carpet. "I'm doomed. I'm...I'm the Princess of Not Having a Title."
With a whoosh, Mom's ears sprang up. "Hey," she said, her eyes widening. "My Princessence powers are telling me we don't have one of those!"
Ink Slinger sniffed. "Well, of course we don't. Princess of Not Having a Title would be a title, so bestowing it upon an alicorn would likely create a paradoxical vortex into which the entirety of Equestria would tumble, spraying magma and—"
Leaping forward, Dinky used her magic to slap sticky notes over his mouth. "Mom! You're the Princess of Princessence! So if you say I'm the Princess of Not Having a Title, that'll make it happen, right?"
"Umm," Pumpkin said somewhere behind Dinky.
But Mom was already nodding. "Anything for my little princess," she said.
"But—" Dinky flapped her new wings. "I finally got 'em this morning, see? I'm an alicorn now, and that means I get to be a princess!"
"Sorry." The way the stallion didn't even shrug this time made Dinky wonder how sorry he really was. "We assigned the last title two hours ago." The clipboard spun around just long enough for Dinky to see that the paper on it was blank, then he was pulling it back and turning to call across the empty desks of the office space behind the counter. "Isn't that right, boss?"
"Huh?" In a yellow-grey flash, an alicorn appeared, an alicorn whose eyes pointed in different directions.
"Mom?" Dinky's ears folded. "What're you doing here?"
"Dinky!" Another popping flash brought her mother into the lobby, that oh-so-familiar hug wrapping around Dinky. "It's my new title! I get a whole office to myself! Well, except for Ink Slinger." She flashed again and appeared behind the counter next to the stallion. "I'm the Princess of Princessence!"
"The—?"
"It means," Ink Slinger said, not looking away from the pyramid he'd begun building with pads of yellow sticky notes, "that she's in charge of princess titles. It was the last title on the list, and the Princess Council decided that she deserved it after all her—"
"So wait!" Dinky jumped up, her wings flaring. "Mom used to be the Princess of Postal Delivery To The Fifteen Hundred Block Of West Bridal Avenue In Ponyville! So if she's here now—"
"Sorry, honey." At least when Mom said it, the droop in her voice told Dinky she meant it. "Zipporwhill got her horn early this morning, so she got my old title. And with everypony becoming an alicorn lately—"
Ink Slinger cleared his throat, and Mom drooped a little more. "Every mare becoming an alicorn, I mean. Because, well, a stallion can't be a princess, can he?"
The smile that crawled over Ink Slinger's snout reminded Dinky of a slug. "And neither can your daughter."
"Honey?" Mom blinked at her. "Are you a stallion?"
Dinky found herself grinding her teeth to keep from shouting at her mother, but a pop startled her. Looking back, she saw a pale yellow alicorn materializing in a ball of dazzling light by the Princess Registry's door. "Whoa!" the newcomer said. "As the Princess of Turning That Frown Upside-Down, I must intervene!"
Recognizing the voice, Dinky had to stare. "Pumpkin? When did you get your wings?"
Pumpkin Cake grinned. "A couple minutes ago!" She spread them. "Aren't they great?"
"But—" The carpet felt like it was dropping away under Dinky's hooves. "You got a title?"
"Well, yeah." Pumpkin tossed her mane. "It's one Pinkie Pie took when she became an alicorn way back when. She's been saving it for me!"
"Saving it?" Dinky whirled to face the counter. "Mom! You could've saved a title for me?"
Mom was busy putting the finishing touches on a second sticky note pyramid while Ink Slinger was twisting paper clips into an aerial tramway connecting the two. "What was that, honey?" Mom asked.
Dinky fell back onto the carpet. "I'm doomed. I'm...I'm the Princess of Not Having a Title."
With a whoosh, Mom's ears sprang up. "Hey," she said, her eyes widening. "My Princessence powers are telling me we don't have one of those!"
Ink Slinger sniffed. "Well, of course we don't. Princess of Not Having a Title would be a title, so bestowing it upon an alicorn would likely create a paradoxical vortex into which the entirety of Equestria would tumble, spraying magma and—"
Leaping forward, Dinky used her magic to slap sticky notes over his mouth. "Mom! You're the Princess of Princessence! So if you say I'm the Princess of Not Having a Title, that'll make it happen, right?"
"Umm," Pumpkin said somewhere behind Dinky.
But Mom was already nodding. "Anything for my little princess," she said.
This was giggle-fun. I can't decide if it would benefit from actually implying there is about to be magma-spraying happening or not - I think it could use another couple examples of silly-fun titles and the consequences thereof, but overall I quite liked this as a simple spun-sugar story.
Points lost for not making that “West Bridle Avenue.” Remember, spellcheck just looks for a right word, not the right word.
In any case, this was an enjoyable bit of fluff. I suppose there’s already a Princess of Paradoxes. With any luck, she’ll be able to avert the magma vortex. Not much to say beyond that, really.
In any case, this was an enjoyable bit of fluff. I suppose there’s already a Princess of Paradoxes. With any luck, she’ll be able to avert the magma vortex. Not much to say beyond that, really.
I'm going to try offering thoughts on the stories in >>FanOfMostEverything's list to equalize the reviews some.
Sort-of nitpick: I really don't understand what magma (molten rock) has to do with paradoxes. That line is twisting in the wind for me because it's implying that paradox is somehow going to affect Equestria physically rather than existentially, and since that's basically setting up your punchline I end the story with it gnawing at me. It's an easy fix though.
Overall I appreciated this. It had a fun prompt interpretation, and a lot of the jokes landed because everyone felt so in-character. Dinky's betrayal at Pinkie Pie saving a title but not her mother was a high point. Ink Slinger's bitterness added some interesting subtle depth, though on reflection I'm not sure I'm satisfied with that being lampshaded and then backgrounded. The idea of every female ascending and every male left behind has huge, huge implications that could easily carry a serious story and feels awkwardly off-tone for a comedy.
Tier: Strong
Sort-of nitpick: I really don't understand what magma (molten rock) has to do with paradoxes. That line is twisting in the wind for me because it's implying that paradox is somehow going to affect Equestria physically rather than existentially, and since that's basically setting up your punchline I end the story with it gnawing at me. It's an easy fix though.
Overall I appreciated this. It had a fun prompt interpretation, and a lot of the jokes landed because everyone felt so in-character. Dinky's betrayal at Pinkie Pie saving a title but not her mother was a high point. Ink Slinger's bitterness added some interesting subtle depth, though on reflection I'm not sure I'm satisfied with that being lampshaded and then backgrounded. The idea of every female ascending and every male left behind has huge, huge implications that could easily carry a serious story and feels awkwardly off-tone for a comedy.
Tier: Strong
Okay, that was ridiculous, and cute. And a perfectly logical endpoint to the whole alicornification thing...
But surely Dinky isn't the last single tribe pony (or single tribe mare?) on the planet? That would be mortifying! And you thought the teasing for being a blank flank was bad!
Regardless, this was a clever and amusing interpretation of the prompt. Good job!
But surely Dinky isn't the last single tribe pony (or single tribe mare?) on the planet? That would be mortifying! And you thought the teasing for being a blank flank was bad!
Regardless, this was a clever and amusing interpretation of the prompt. Good job!
Princessence — B+ — First impressions: Dinky is a princess, yay! (+) fairly good treatment of the characters, and keeping the nose-count low makes it easier to control. The post-it pyramid and tramway is a very Equestrian touch. And Dinky makes a good Princess of Paradoxes. (-) It really didn’t take off and fly for me, but it wasn’t bad. The emotional hill that Dinky goes through, elated at the beginning, depressed at the middle, and up again at the end was a little flat.
