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Solving for Death
Twilight Sparkle meticulously pushed the plate on the table until it was in the most scientifically appropriate position. Then she raised her hoof and closed her eyes.
“First lesson of the day,” she went on to say, “we very carefully set the table without using magic, so that―”
“Got it!” Starlight said as she whizzed over the place settings to the table with her magic. Her heart’s in the right place, but she’s not the best listener. She carefully examined her handiwork with a smile, until she noticed that the two-prong fun fork was missing from in front of her. She didn’t know what it was actually called, but calling it that helped her remember where to put it.
Starlight hummed. “Twilight, we seem to be missing the two-prong fun fork from one of the place settings. Do you know where it is?” she asked as she lifted her head whereupon she found the two-prong fun fork jutting out of the side of Twilight’s skull, her head currently resting in the plate at her place setting.
Starlight blinked, then trotted over to Twilight. Twilight’s eyes were open and blood was currently pooling into the plate. Starlight poked Twilight. Twilight didn’t respond.
Starlight blinked again. “Twilight, are you dead?”
Twilight still didn’t respond. Starlight poked her a few more times. Still no response. Starlight’s eyes widened. “Oh, right! I knew I forgot to check for something.” She grabbed Twilight’s foreleg and placed her hoof on Twilight’s carpus. No pulse.
Oh yeah, she’s super dead, Starlight thought. Welp, time to fix this. She lifted Twilight’s confirmed-dead body in her magic and walked through the castle to the library.
She came across Spike, who was currently dusting a statue.
“Hey, Spike,” Starlight said.
Spike paused his dusting. “Hey, Starlight!” He said. “Aren’t you supposed to be helping Twilight with something?”
“Yeah, but I accidentally killed her and now I’m going to bring her back to life.”
“Oh, okay, I guess call me if you need―”
Spike dropped his feather duster and slowly turned to face Starlight. “You what!?” He chased her down, his eyes never leaving Twilight’s limp body. “Oh no, oh no, oh no…” he repeated as his eyes watered.
Starlight chuckled. “Spike, it’ll be fine. I’ll have her undead in no time.” Starlight’s eyes wandered. “Um, I mean not dead, not undead.” She tittered.
Spike scurried up to where Starlight was, tears sliding down his face. “H-how could you kill Twilight? With a relish fork?”
“Oh, is that what that’s called? And here I was calling it a two-prong fun fork this entire―”
“Starlight!”
Starlight stopped and turned to face Spike. He was really laying on the waterworks thick. She bent down and touched Spike’s cheek. “Spike. You don’t have to cry.” Starlight smiled. “I’m going to resurrect Twilight and we’ll all be laughing about this tomorrow.”
Spike looked into Starlight’s eyes and sniffed. “Y-you sure?” Starlight nodded, at which Spike offered a weak smile. “W-what should I tell Celestia?”
Starlight straightened herself, put a hoof to her chin, and gnarred. “Oh yeah… um… tell her to meet us in the library. Now go do something fun. I know how icky dead bodies are.”
Spike slowly nodded and scampered away. With that, Starlight headed towards the library with Twilight’s corpse.
Upon reaching the library, Starlight unceremoniously dumped Twilight’s body onto a table face-up and slowly worked the relish fork out of her skull. The blood wasn’t really coming out as fast anymore, due to Twilight’s heart being stopped on account of her being dead. Starlight tapped her chin and looked around the library.
First order of business… ah, yes!
A teal glow surrounded Starlight as she levitated towards the Medical section of the library, grabbed a book, then floated to Twilight. She flipped through the pages.
“Okay… let’s see… here it is!” Starlight grinned. “A regeneration spell!”
Starlight landed, presuming she was going to need a bit more juice than usual for this spell. Her horn glowed, then Twilight glowed as the side of her head patched itself up.
Starlight licked her lips. “Well, that’s good. Twilight, you can wake up now!”
Twilight didn’t heed her request, because she was still dead. Starlight grunted. “Are you still dead?”
Twilight didn’t respond.
Starlight threw her hooves up into the air. “Oh, come on!” She ran a hoof through her mane and looked around the library. “Well, it’s not like something in here can’t revive her. Just gotta keep looking. Okay…” she grasped several books in her magic and floated them over to the table. “These should be a good start. Now for quill and paper…”
She grasped paper, a quill, several inkwells, sat down, and got to work on creating a resurrection spell.
Starlight yawned. Creating a resurrection spell was hard work. Or at least creating what she thought was a resurrection spell. She looked over to Twilight’s body, hoping she wasn’t dead.
She was still very, very dead.
Starlight inhaled deeply and rubbed her face. When she pulled her hooves away from her face, who else but Princess Celestia would show up, her face wearing an unreadable expression.
“Hello, Starlight,” she said, “I understand you murdered my former student.”
Starlight chortled. “Well, actually it’d be more along the lines of manslaughter, but hello to you too!” She clapped her hooves together. “That’s a weird word, by the way. Manslaughter. You know, in between ‘math-is-hurting-my-brain-breaks’ I’ve been researching the etymology of that word, and it turns out that the root word is mane, as in ‘killed by a pony mane’, and it’s actually an ingenious linguistic trick. Personally, I’d prefer to call it maneslaughter, but that’s just―”
“I should arrest you right now.”
Starlight rubbed her forehead and she felt sweat. She gulped. “But you’re not because I promised to fix it.”
Celestia growled. “You cannot fix death with science.”
“Well, Princess Celestia,” Starlight said as she wagged a hoof at her, “they also said you can only time-travel in a closed loop, but who proved them wrong?”
“You did.” Celestia narrowed her eyes. “And you almost destroyed the world in the process.”
“Details.” Starlight sucked her teeth. “Well, anyway, I think I’m on the right track.” Starlight hovered her notes over to Celestia, who paged through them. “I’m just working on finding the energy source.”
“Hmm.” Having finished leafing through them, Celestia handed the mass of equations back over to Starlight. “I can’t say you’re not on the wrong track, but you’re right. The method you’re using now would require dissolving all of existence to power the revivification spell.”
Starlight bit her cheek. “Yeah… I’m aiming for reducing the energy input to destroying an alternate universe.” Starlight smiled wide-eyed at Celestia. “Do we have any spare alternate universes lying around?”
Celestia shook her head. “None without life.”
“Well, then,” Starlight said as she looked around. “I guess I’ll have to work on this some more, then.” Starlight dipped the quill into the inkwell and continued writing.
“I will give you until dawn,” Celestia said as she sat down. “If you don’t have a solution by then, I will personally see to it that you’re sent to prison.”
“Good thing I’m going to solve for death, then, right?” Starlight said, the strokes of the quill puncturing the silence. “By the way, you don’t seem too hung up over Twilight’s death.”
Celestia sighed. “I’ve had a lot of practice grieving in my long life.”
“That makes sense… there’s a lot of imaginary numbers in this.”
“Because what you’re trying to do is imaginary,” Celestia said.
Starlight grunted “No it isn’t. I can do―” she said before she looked up at Celestia and smirked. “Was that a joke?”
“Gallows humor.” Celestia exhaled.
Starlight wagged her quill at Celestia. “You’re a funny mare, you know that?”
Starlight could barely keep her eyes open. The equations she had written seemed to blur into one big mass of black if she didn’t focus. She turned her head to face Celestia, looking as regal as ever. She looked back at her math. “Okay.” Starlight sighed. “I’ve managed to reduce the energy required to all life on Earth, but I think I can get it down to all plant life on Earth if I have more time.” Starlight held the piece of paper up in the air. “But I think that’s the best I can do.”
Celestia hummed. “I suppose you’ve failed, then.” Celestia’s horn glowed. “The sun must rise.”
Starlight narrowed her gaze and illuminated her own horn. “No,” she growled.
“No, it mustn't,” she repeated.
Celestia’s and Starlight’s eyes locked themselves in battle as Celestia’s face tightened. “Are you…”
“Yes,” Starlight said, visible beads of sweat forming all over her body as her face grew rigid. “You said I have until sunrise to revive Twilight.” She stared down Celestia, her body shivering from strain. “So I’m delaying the sunrise.”
“You do realize that there are several flaws in this plan, all of which relate to the gross power imbalance between us.” A vein bulged in Starlight’s neck. “Tell me this, Starlight. Why do you want to save Twilight even though she’s clearly past the point of no return? To avoid the consequences?” Starlight shook her head. “Perhaps out of personal pride, to be the mage who twice did the impossible?” Starlight shook her head again.
Daylight started to peek out until Starlight gritted her teeth and it disappeared past the horizon. “Starlight,” Celestia said, “you’re going to die if you keep this up, or at the very least lose your magic. I’ll ask you again: why do you wish to save Twilight when she can’t be saved?”
“Because she already did the same for me.” Starlight started hyperventilating. “And I’d like to return the favor, even if it requires defying the heavens and splitting them in half.” She growled again and bared her teeth, trembling all the while. “And I’ll keep trying, even though you’ve been sitting in the corner doing nothing.”
“I wasn’t aware that the great Starlight Glimmer who broke time itself wanted my assistance.” Celestia smiled. “You never asked.”
Starlight’s eyes widened as every muscle in her body released itself. “... W-what?”
Celestia released her magic as well. The sun still did not rise. “I said if you wanted help, you should have asked.”
Starlight pursed her lips and looked away. Then, not to look a gift pony in the mouth, she faced Celestia. “Could you help me revive Twilight?”
A golden glow surrounded several books in a section that Starlight hadn’t thought to search and placed them on the table. Starlight approached the table and flipped through one of the books. “This is… this is a book about the Elysian Fields.” Starlight looked at Celestia. “This isn’t science.”
Celestia nodded. “Yes, it cannot be measured and falsified through Earthly means, but neither can friendship and love, and I’m almost certain that those exist.”
Starlight picked up another book and leafed through it. “This… okay, I think I can whip something up in an hour.” She glanced at Celestia. “You know, I’m pretty sure what you did to me just now is considered torture.”
Celestia grinned again. “I had faith that you’d come around. Something else that also can’t be measured.”
“What?” Starlight asked, burying herself in another book, “faith, or me coming around?”
Celestia chortled. “Both.”
“There you are again with the jokes.” Starlight set the book down and drew up a few equations. “Okay, I think I’ve come up with a new plan.” She handed the papers to Celestia, who read through them. “So, Plan B is: I’ve come up with two spells. One, a spell that should temporarily kill me and allow me to access the Elysian Fields to fish Twilight’s spirit out, and then there’s a counterspell that should reverse the temporary death spell.” Starlight clapped her hooves together. “I can cast the first one on myself with a mirror, but I’m going to need you to cast the second one on me on account of my being dead.”
Celestia scanned through the pages. “One, you’re insane.”
“You sound like my mother,” Starlight said with a blush.
“And two,” Celestia said as she set the papers on the table, “you’re making a lot of assumptions here, about spirits and such.”
Starlight pointed at Celestia. “You’re the one who said faith can’t be measured.”
Celestia nodded. “But I will be glad to assist you with both spells.”
“Alright!” Starlight rubbed her hooves together. “Let me know when you’re―”
A cerulean blast escaped from Celestia’s horn and struck Starlight, whose body crumpled upon contact with the spell.
That felt amazing, Celestia thought. She then picked up the papers again and read them Ten minutes. Okay.
Celestia stared at Starlight’s body. Her heart’s in the right place, but she does seem to have a high opinion of herself. I suppose it can’t be helped, considering what she’s accomplished.
She then heard footsteps, turning her head to see Spike rubbing his eyes and yawning. “I… just came to see how Starlight was doing on fixing Twilight.” When he finished rubbing his eyes, he laid eyes on Starlight’s somewhat-dead body, whereupon his eyes widened to the size of saucers. “What happened to Starlight?”
Celestia rubbed Spike’s back. “Don’t worry, Spike, it’s only temporary.”
Spike nodded at Celestia and looked at Twilight, who was still very dead, and Starlight, who was only mostly dead, then shivered. “I don’t like being surrounded by dead bodies.”
“No one does, Spike.”
Celestia looked outside. “Okay, it’s been ten minutes. Let’s see if this worked.” Celestia shot out a gout of crimson magic at Starlight, whose eyes popped open as she sat bolt upright and wheezed heavily, a small spark hovering in her horngrasp.
“Wow,” Starlight said breathily as she heaved herself up, “that was a trip. Has that always been there? That was certainly...” She staggered drunkenly over to Twilight’s body. “... something else.” She touched the spark to Twilight, then collapsed onto the floor. “The Elysian Fields are…” she said before she passed out and started snoring.
The spark entered Twilight as it surrounded her with a silver shimmer. Her chest expanded and contracted, then her eyes fluttered. Twilight sighed, at which Spike made a sound of delight, jumped up onto the table, and hugged Twilight.
Twilight smiled weakly. “Hi, Spike. You’re awfully excited to see me right now.” She sat up and looked around. “... wait a second. Why am I in the library?” She looked out the window. “And why is it dark outside?” She looked on the table. “Why am I surrounded by equations?” She spotted the relish fork. “Who put that relish fork there?”
Celestia chuckled as she raised the sun above the horizon. “Good morning, Twilight.”
“First lesson of the day,” she went on to say, “we very carefully set the table without using magic, so that―”
“Got it!” Starlight said as she whizzed over the place settings to the table with her magic. Her heart’s in the right place, but she’s not the best listener. She carefully examined her handiwork with a smile, until she noticed that the two-prong fun fork was missing from in front of her. She didn’t know what it was actually called, but calling it that helped her remember where to put it.
Starlight hummed. “Twilight, we seem to be missing the two-prong fun fork from one of the place settings. Do you know where it is?” she asked as she lifted her head whereupon she found the two-prong fun fork jutting out of the side of Twilight’s skull, her head currently resting in the plate at her place setting.
Starlight blinked, then trotted over to Twilight. Twilight’s eyes were open and blood was currently pooling into the plate. Starlight poked Twilight. Twilight didn’t respond.
Starlight blinked again. “Twilight, are you dead?”
Twilight still didn’t respond. Starlight poked her a few more times. Still no response. Starlight’s eyes widened. “Oh, right! I knew I forgot to check for something.” She grabbed Twilight’s foreleg and placed her hoof on Twilight’s carpus. No pulse.
Oh yeah, she’s super dead, Starlight thought. Welp, time to fix this. She lifted Twilight’s confirmed-dead body in her magic and walked through the castle to the library.
She came across Spike, who was currently dusting a statue.
“Hey, Spike,” Starlight said.
Spike paused his dusting. “Hey, Starlight!” He said. “Aren’t you supposed to be helping Twilight with something?”
“Yeah, but I accidentally killed her and now I’m going to bring her back to life.”
“Oh, okay, I guess call me if you need―”
Spike dropped his feather duster and slowly turned to face Starlight. “You what!?” He chased her down, his eyes never leaving Twilight’s limp body. “Oh no, oh no, oh no…” he repeated as his eyes watered.
Starlight chuckled. “Spike, it’ll be fine. I’ll have her undead in no time.” Starlight’s eyes wandered. “Um, I mean not dead, not undead.” She tittered.
Spike scurried up to where Starlight was, tears sliding down his face. “H-how could you kill Twilight? With a relish fork?”
“Oh, is that what that’s called? And here I was calling it a two-prong fun fork this entire―”
“Starlight!”
Starlight stopped and turned to face Spike. He was really laying on the waterworks thick. She bent down and touched Spike’s cheek. “Spike. You don’t have to cry.” Starlight smiled. “I’m going to resurrect Twilight and we’ll all be laughing about this tomorrow.”
Spike looked into Starlight’s eyes and sniffed. “Y-you sure?” Starlight nodded, at which Spike offered a weak smile. “W-what should I tell Celestia?”
Starlight straightened herself, put a hoof to her chin, and gnarred. “Oh yeah… um… tell her to meet us in the library. Now go do something fun. I know how icky dead bodies are.”
Spike slowly nodded and scampered away. With that, Starlight headed towards the library with Twilight’s corpse.
Upon reaching the library, Starlight unceremoniously dumped Twilight’s body onto a table face-up and slowly worked the relish fork out of her skull. The blood wasn’t really coming out as fast anymore, due to Twilight’s heart being stopped on account of her being dead. Starlight tapped her chin and looked around the library.
First order of business… ah, yes!
A teal glow surrounded Starlight as she levitated towards the Medical section of the library, grabbed a book, then floated to Twilight. She flipped through the pages.
“Okay… let’s see… here it is!” Starlight grinned. “A regeneration spell!”
Starlight landed, presuming she was going to need a bit more juice than usual for this spell. Her horn glowed, then Twilight glowed as the side of her head patched itself up.
Starlight licked her lips. “Well, that’s good. Twilight, you can wake up now!”
Twilight didn’t heed her request, because she was still dead. Starlight grunted. “Are you still dead?”
Twilight didn’t respond.
Starlight threw her hooves up into the air. “Oh, come on!” She ran a hoof through her mane and looked around the library. “Well, it’s not like something in here can’t revive her. Just gotta keep looking. Okay…” she grasped several books in her magic and floated them over to the table. “These should be a good start. Now for quill and paper…”
She grasped paper, a quill, several inkwells, sat down, and got to work on creating a resurrection spell.
Starlight yawned. Creating a resurrection spell was hard work. Or at least creating what she thought was a resurrection spell. She looked over to Twilight’s body, hoping she wasn’t dead.
She was still very, very dead.
Starlight inhaled deeply and rubbed her face. When she pulled her hooves away from her face, who else but Princess Celestia would show up, her face wearing an unreadable expression.
“Hello, Starlight,” she said, “I understand you murdered my former student.”
Starlight chortled. “Well, actually it’d be more along the lines of manslaughter, but hello to you too!” She clapped her hooves together. “That’s a weird word, by the way. Manslaughter. You know, in between ‘math-is-hurting-my-brain-breaks’ I’ve been researching the etymology of that word, and it turns out that the root word is mane, as in ‘killed by a pony mane’, and it’s actually an ingenious linguistic trick. Personally, I’d prefer to call it maneslaughter, but that’s just―”
“I should arrest you right now.”
Starlight rubbed her forehead and she felt sweat. She gulped. “But you’re not because I promised to fix it.”
Celestia growled. “You cannot fix death with science.”
“Well, Princess Celestia,” Starlight said as she wagged a hoof at her, “they also said you can only time-travel in a closed loop, but who proved them wrong?”
“You did.” Celestia narrowed her eyes. “And you almost destroyed the world in the process.”
“Details.” Starlight sucked her teeth. “Well, anyway, I think I’m on the right track.” Starlight hovered her notes over to Celestia, who paged through them. “I’m just working on finding the energy source.”
“Hmm.” Having finished leafing through them, Celestia handed the mass of equations back over to Starlight. “I can’t say you’re not on the wrong track, but you’re right. The method you’re using now would require dissolving all of existence to power the revivification spell.”
Starlight bit her cheek. “Yeah… I’m aiming for reducing the energy input to destroying an alternate universe.” Starlight smiled wide-eyed at Celestia. “Do we have any spare alternate universes lying around?”
Celestia shook her head. “None without life.”
“Well, then,” Starlight said as she looked around. “I guess I’ll have to work on this some more, then.” Starlight dipped the quill into the inkwell and continued writing.
“I will give you until dawn,” Celestia said as she sat down. “If you don’t have a solution by then, I will personally see to it that you’re sent to prison.”
“Good thing I’m going to solve for death, then, right?” Starlight said, the strokes of the quill puncturing the silence. “By the way, you don’t seem too hung up over Twilight’s death.”
Celestia sighed. “I’ve had a lot of practice grieving in my long life.”
“That makes sense… there’s a lot of imaginary numbers in this.”
“Because what you’re trying to do is imaginary,” Celestia said.
Starlight grunted “No it isn’t. I can do―” she said before she looked up at Celestia and smirked. “Was that a joke?”
“Gallows humor.” Celestia exhaled.
Starlight wagged her quill at Celestia. “You’re a funny mare, you know that?”
Starlight could barely keep her eyes open. The equations she had written seemed to blur into one big mass of black if she didn’t focus. She turned her head to face Celestia, looking as regal as ever. She looked back at her math. “Okay.” Starlight sighed. “I’ve managed to reduce the energy required to all life on Earth, but I think I can get it down to all plant life on Earth if I have more time.” Starlight held the piece of paper up in the air. “But I think that’s the best I can do.”
Celestia hummed. “I suppose you’ve failed, then.” Celestia’s horn glowed. “The sun must rise.”
Starlight narrowed her gaze and illuminated her own horn. “No,” she growled.
“No, it mustn't,” she repeated.
Celestia’s and Starlight’s eyes locked themselves in battle as Celestia’s face tightened. “Are you…”
“Yes,” Starlight said, visible beads of sweat forming all over her body as her face grew rigid. “You said I have until sunrise to revive Twilight.” She stared down Celestia, her body shivering from strain. “So I’m delaying the sunrise.”
“You do realize that there are several flaws in this plan, all of which relate to the gross power imbalance between us.” A vein bulged in Starlight’s neck. “Tell me this, Starlight. Why do you want to save Twilight even though she’s clearly past the point of no return? To avoid the consequences?” Starlight shook her head. “Perhaps out of personal pride, to be the mage who twice did the impossible?” Starlight shook her head again.
Daylight started to peek out until Starlight gritted her teeth and it disappeared past the horizon. “Starlight,” Celestia said, “you’re going to die if you keep this up, or at the very least lose your magic. I’ll ask you again: why do you wish to save Twilight when she can’t be saved?”
“Because she already did the same for me.” Starlight started hyperventilating. “And I’d like to return the favor, even if it requires defying the heavens and splitting them in half.” She growled again and bared her teeth, trembling all the while. “And I’ll keep trying, even though you’ve been sitting in the corner doing nothing.”
“I wasn’t aware that the great Starlight Glimmer who broke time itself wanted my assistance.” Celestia smiled. “You never asked.”
Starlight’s eyes widened as every muscle in her body released itself. “... W-what?”
Celestia released her magic as well. The sun still did not rise. “I said if you wanted help, you should have asked.”
Starlight pursed her lips and looked away. Then, not to look a gift pony in the mouth, she faced Celestia. “Could you help me revive Twilight?”
A golden glow surrounded several books in a section that Starlight hadn’t thought to search and placed them on the table. Starlight approached the table and flipped through one of the books. “This is… this is a book about the Elysian Fields.” Starlight looked at Celestia. “This isn’t science.”
Celestia nodded. “Yes, it cannot be measured and falsified through Earthly means, but neither can friendship and love, and I’m almost certain that those exist.”
Starlight picked up another book and leafed through it. “This… okay, I think I can whip something up in an hour.” She glanced at Celestia. “You know, I’m pretty sure what you did to me just now is considered torture.”
Celestia grinned again. “I had faith that you’d come around. Something else that also can’t be measured.”
“What?” Starlight asked, burying herself in another book, “faith, or me coming around?”
Celestia chortled. “Both.”
“There you are again with the jokes.” Starlight set the book down and drew up a few equations. “Okay, I think I’ve come up with a new plan.” She handed the papers to Celestia, who read through them. “So, Plan B is: I’ve come up with two spells. One, a spell that should temporarily kill me and allow me to access the Elysian Fields to fish Twilight’s spirit out, and then there’s a counterspell that should reverse the temporary death spell.” Starlight clapped her hooves together. “I can cast the first one on myself with a mirror, but I’m going to need you to cast the second one on me on account of my being dead.”
Celestia scanned through the pages. “One, you’re insane.”
“You sound like my mother,” Starlight said with a blush.
“And two,” Celestia said as she set the papers on the table, “you’re making a lot of assumptions here, about spirits and such.”
Starlight pointed at Celestia. “You’re the one who said faith can’t be measured.”
Celestia nodded. “But I will be glad to assist you with both spells.”
“Alright!” Starlight rubbed her hooves together. “Let me know when you’re―”
A cerulean blast escaped from Celestia’s horn and struck Starlight, whose body crumpled upon contact with the spell.
That felt amazing, Celestia thought. She then picked up the papers again and read them Ten minutes. Okay.
Celestia stared at Starlight’s body. Her heart’s in the right place, but she does seem to have a high opinion of herself. I suppose it can’t be helped, considering what she’s accomplished.
She then heard footsteps, turning her head to see Spike rubbing his eyes and yawning. “I… just came to see how Starlight was doing on fixing Twilight.” When he finished rubbing his eyes, he laid eyes on Starlight’s somewhat-dead body, whereupon his eyes widened to the size of saucers. “What happened to Starlight?”
Celestia rubbed Spike’s back. “Don’t worry, Spike, it’s only temporary.”
Spike nodded at Celestia and looked at Twilight, who was still very dead, and Starlight, who was only mostly dead, then shivered. “I don’t like being surrounded by dead bodies.”
“No one does, Spike.”
Celestia looked outside. “Okay, it’s been ten minutes. Let’s see if this worked.” Celestia shot out a gout of crimson magic at Starlight, whose eyes popped open as she sat bolt upright and wheezed heavily, a small spark hovering in her horngrasp.
“Wow,” Starlight said breathily as she heaved herself up, “that was a trip. Has that always been there? That was certainly...” She staggered drunkenly over to Twilight’s body. “... something else.” She touched the spark to Twilight, then collapsed onto the floor. “The Elysian Fields are…” she said before she passed out and started snoring.
The spark entered Twilight as it surrounded her with a silver shimmer. Her chest expanded and contracted, then her eyes fluttered. Twilight sighed, at which Spike made a sound of delight, jumped up onto the table, and hugged Twilight.
Twilight smiled weakly. “Hi, Spike. You’re awfully excited to see me right now.” She sat up and looked around. “... wait a second. Why am I in the library?” She looked out the window. “And why is it dark outside?” She looked on the table. “Why am I surrounded by equations?” She spotted the relish fork. “Who put that relish fork there?”
Celestia chuckled as she raised the sun above the horizon. “Good morning, Twilight.”
two-prong fun fork
Err...
I know how icky dead bodies are.
Errrrr....
“You sound like my mother,” Starlight said with a blush.
ERRRRRR......
So, the beginning and ending of this feel like comedy, and the middle seems like kinda-sorta-serious-drama? It looks to me like it doesn't really know what it's trying to be. And because Starlight goes from blithe to serious and back again without blinking an eye, the comedy severely undercuts the drama, while the drama severely undercuts the comedy, since neither of them really seem to reflect her true character.
That being said, I did get some giggles out of this, and it seems to be trying for emotional depth, which is definitely worth something in my opinion.
This is quite fine:
I loved the tone--black comedy with a serious heart squirming at the center--and the only POV shift that bothered me was right at the beginning. The first two paragraphs seem to be in Twilight's, then the 3rd paragraph goes somewhere else with that odd "Her heart’s in the right place, but she’s not the best listener" floating around unattributed--and in present tense, too, when the rest of the story is past tense--but then we settle pretty much into Starlight's head.
I'd recommend keeping the beginning in Twilight's POV and even giving us another paragraph where she thinks that line about Starlight and gives us some more general character observations before there's a loud wet crunch. Then snap us over to Starlight's POV as she looks up to see Twilight with the fork sticking out of her head. That'll also supply the precedent of jumping out of a character's POV when she's killed and then jumping back when she's revived as happens at the end.
Mike
I loved the tone--black comedy with a serious heart squirming at the center--and the only POV shift that bothered me was right at the beginning. The first two paragraphs seem to be in Twilight's, then the 3rd paragraph goes somewhere else with that odd "Her heart’s in the right place, but she’s not the best listener" floating around unattributed--and in present tense, too, when the rest of the story is past tense--but then we settle pretty much into Starlight's head.
I'd recommend keeping the beginning in Twilight's POV and even giving us another paragraph where she thinks that line about Starlight and gives us some more general character observations before there's a loud wet crunch. Then snap us over to Starlight's POV as she looks up to see Twilight with the fork sticking out of her head. That'll also supply the precedent of jumping out of a character's POV when she's killed and then jumping back when she's revived as happens at the end.
Mike
>>Baal Bunny
Ditto about the POV shift. It felt jarring to go from Twilight at the beggining and then to Starlight for the rest of the story. Spending a little bit more time with Twi before her sudden death by cutlery could help with that issue.
Other than that, I really liked this. Despite veering on the edge of absurdism, it remained consistent all throughout, as did the laughs. Save of course, for that part in the talk between Starlight and Celestia were things started to get serious for a moment before going back to comedy.
While I won't tell you to choose one over the other, I really think you should strive for a better balance between the comedy and the drama, because right now that scene sticks out from the otherwise even comedic tone.
But, yeah. This got a few genuine chuckles from me. Keep it up.
Ditto about the POV shift. It felt jarring to go from Twilight at the beggining and then to Starlight for the rest of the story. Spending a little bit more time with Twi before her sudden death by cutlery could help with that issue.
Other than that, I really liked this. Despite veering on the edge of absurdism, it remained consistent all throughout, as did the laughs. Save of course, for that part in the talk between Starlight and Celestia were things started to get serious for a moment before going back to comedy.
While I won't tell you to choose one over the other, I really think you should strive for a better balance between the comedy and the drama, because right now that scene sticks out from the otherwise even comedic tone.
But, yeah. This got a few genuine chuckles from me. Keep it up.
Genre/Thoughts: I fear this isn't the story for me. I'm not partial to either black comedy or ultra-sociopath Starlight. The finale also felt very arbitrary... despite being a person of faith myself, I want a little more than just hand-waving about how Starlight could pull off what she did.
The fun fork thing was funny though, as was the moment where Celestia casts the first spell.
Tier: Misaimed
The fun fork thing was funny though, as was the moment where Celestia casts the first spell.
Tier: Misaimed
Fuck it, this is getting a thumbs up from me. Starlight's attitude toward accidentally killing Twilight feels perversely in character, and the way the story treats its subject matter kept me chortling along throughout.
Rethink your approach in the ways outlined above, though, because there are some issues with tone and perspective that you could stand to address.
EDIT: Forgot to give this its well-deserved score of 8/10
Rethink your approach in the ways outlined above, though, because there are some issues with tone and perspective that you could stand to address.
EDIT: Forgot to give this its well-deserved score of 8/10
I'm not too sure what to think about this story. Starlight was completely OOC (although reformed!Starlight is one of the lamest characters in the show anyway, so it's hardly a loss), and everyone's reactions to Twilight's death were strangely understated, but I kinda liked the humor. And Celestia's confrontation with Starlight was a pleasure to read.
Still, I don't think there's much to this story at all. Starlight is confronted with a problem, sits down, makes a plan (EDIT: a plan which isn't hidden from the audience at all), plan goes off without a hitch. There's the sole speed bump of Starlight needing to swallow her pride (?) and ask for Celestia's help, but it doesn't feel like enough.
Still, I don't think there's much to this story at all. Starlight is confronted with a problem, sits down, makes a plan (EDIT: a plan which isn't hidden from the audience at all), plan goes off without a hitch. There's the sole speed bump of Starlight needing to swallow her pride (?) and ask for Celestia's help, but it doesn't feel like enough.
Bonus thoughts: I was actually expecting the plan to backfire because Starlight ended up in Pony Hell, and for it to end with Starlight and Celestia looking at Spike, then giving each other evil grins, implying he's about to be attempt #2. Black comedy might not be my thing, but IMO that would've been way funnier than the plan going off without a hitch.
(Also, I've filled this somewhere in my Almost There tier. It isn't my thing but it's pretty well done.)
(Also, I've filled this somewhere in my Almost There tier. It isn't my thing but it's pretty well done.)
So... I like my comedy to have some meat. It's why I love Pratchett so much. You get some seriously absurd stuff positioned right next to excellent drama.
The problem is that requires being careful, because the two elements have to support (or, at the least, not undermine) each other. I expect what this is trying to do is riff on Starlight's rather blase reaction to mind control. The problem is that this is actually way grimmer, which, in turn, makes it far more absurdist, particular with exactly how blase things get. There is no hint of remorse/regret until the Celestia scene, which, in turn, robs it of all its weight. And, of course, that scene totally derails the weird, surreal journey we're on.
If you want the emotion, you need to add some weight earlier in the narrative. If you want the absurd gallows light humor, you need to go even further with it.
The problem is that requires being careful, because the two elements have to support (or, at the least, not undermine) each other. I expect what this is trying to do is riff on Starlight's rather blase reaction to mind control. The problem is that this is actually way grimmer, which, in turn, makes it far more absurdist, particular with exactly how blase things get. There is no hint of remorse/regret until the Celestia scene, which, in turn, robs it of all its weight. And, of course, that scene totally derails the weird, surreal journey we're on.
If you want the emotion, you need to add some weight earlier in the narrative. If you want the absurd gallows light humor, you need to go even further with it.
I much liked the more absurdist Equestria here where all the adults, at least, were rather dry-witted. The one piece that didn't work for me were Celestia's jokes about “Because what you’re trying to do is imaginary,” and the subsequent one with the same style. I may be foalish, but I didn't get them, which drags their quality down somewhat for me.
The ending felt somewhat rushed, too. I'd prefer to see Starlight's trippy journey instead of just seeing the results. But, still, decent o'erall.
The ending felt somewhat rushed, too. I'd prefer to see Starlight's trippy journey instead of just seeing the results. But, still, decent o'erall.
For all the humor you've thrown at us here, I expected a good laugh from the last line. I'd consider that revision priority one.
I'll echo what others have said about the POV shifts being jarring. This was a fun ride, but the tone felt too inconsistent for me. The more serious middle just seems to come out of nowhere and vanish just as quickly. In a way I wanted the confrontation with Celestia to be a more serious version of the one with Spike, where Starlight gets her night of work because Celestia considers it her special way of grieving... but then again I wouldn't touch the line with Celestia 'helping' with the spell; that was solid gold.
The happy ending felt a little too easily won. For the reader, that ten minutes goes by in a heartbeat. Why not milk it a little more and let Celestia zap her a couple more times at her request, all to the utter horror of Spike.
I'll echo what others have said about the POV shifts being jarring. This was a fun ride, but the tone felt too inconsistent for me. The more serious middle just seems to come out of nowhere and vanish just as quickly. In a way I wanted the confrontation with Celestia to be a more serious version of the one with Spike, where Starlight gets her night of work because Celestia considers it her special way of grieving... but then again I wouldn't touch the line with Celestia 'helping' with the spell; that was solid gold.
The happy ending felt a little too easily won. For the reader, that ten minutes goes by in a heartbeat. Why not milk it a little more and let Celestia zap her a couple more times at her request, all to the utter horror of Spike.