Delegator Con
by AstralMouse
Fluttershy’s hooves fidgeted on the comfortable carpet of the hotel lobby. She was surrounded by ponies she didn’t know, and that made her hungry. She knew from experience, however, that anxiety hunger was not the kind to sate with an entire surprise cake from Pinkie Pie.
Hungry, but don’t eat cake.
She wondered how Angel Bunny was doing in the care of Doctor Fauna. She knew the vet was good at her job and taking care of animals, but Angel Bunny could be… particular. Was he being spoiled right now? Taking advantage of his bunnysitter?
Ding! “Going up,” the elevator said in a comfy voice.
Ponies shuffled onto it, and Fluttershy had no free space to move forward despite the flow of hoof traffic, and then it was full.
It’s okay, she thought, I’ll wait for the next one.
She gave the ponies a polite smile as the door closed, and none of them smiled back.
Probably just didn’t notice her.
“Heya, Miss.”
Fluttershy was studying the designs on the carpet, a simple but mesmerizing pattern of lines that seemed to be randomly colored. It reminded her of Discord, but his idea of a chaotic floor would be one that your hooves stick to, and the harder you try, the stickier it is. Something she would be good at traversing, but her friends might not. She hoped Discord was doing o—
“You here for the convention?”
She had to suppress an eep! of surprise, but the moment she realized the stallion next to her was speaking to her, she was looking slightly further up the floor, her current version of eye contact.
“Um,” she said, making eye contact proper, thanks to years of training and practice, “yes.”
“Yeah, me too,” he replied.
That piqued her interest. “Oh, you love animals too?”
He laughed. “Celestia, no. Wait, which convention are you here for?”
“The… the one about saving all those poor animals stuck in Canteral Park? They need to be free to see a real forest. This time, we have a really solid plan to propose to the mayor. I think there are three of us attending this year? I don’t recognize you, though.”
“Oh,” he said, suddenly seeming much less interested in conversation.
Ding! “Going up.”
“That’s me,” the stallion said, quickly weaseling past her to crowd the elevator, and it was again full before Fluttershy could figure out how the first floor elevator going up could possibly not be him.
“It’s okay, I can wait for the next one,” she said under her breath, but in her mind, possibly loud enough for the stallion to hear. She smiled at him politely, and he didn’t smile back.
She was in no hurry. She was two days early for the convention, after all.
A grumpy-looking mare stood beside her now, with a well-maintained mane and an air of business about her. She wondered how Rarity’s Manehattan shop was doing. She could stop by it after visiting her room, perhaps, but it was across town.
At least the weather was nice.
She wondered if the mare had any pets. Then came a thought she would never admit having. She wondered what would happen if this mare gave up her pets to Fluttershy. Maybe some cute little birds, or a kitty, or a ferret. She would love them all, and would make them feel welcome. Unlike this mare, who gave them up just because she was a bad owner who hated her poor little innocent animals. Probably didn’t feed them enough, or maybe yelled at them.
Fluttershy realized she was scowling at the floor.
She had to ground herself, then, and take herself out of her intrusive fantasy.
She smiled politely at the mare, who scowled back.
“Ya need somethin’?”
“Oh! No,” Fluttershy said, “just waiting for the elevator.”
Ding! “Going up.”
Fluttershy stepped forward, but the mare shoved her aside and the elevator was, once again, full.
“Oh. It’s okay. I can catch the next one,” she said.
The mare smirked at her rudely.
Fluttershy felt a little less bad about her fantasy, then.
More ponies crowded around her, giving her no room to move. Younger her would have felt claustrophobic here, but New Fluttershy was assertive! And didn’t mind crowds!
Breathing in too much caused her sides to make contact with other ponies, so she tried to take shallower breaths.
Nope. New Fluttershy. Didn’t mind!
It’s just a little wait for a silly little elevator. No problems here, she thought.
Twilight Sparkle had taught her some helpful techniques for dealing with this kind of situation. Being friends with a Capital-P-Princess as a foal (her words), she would often pretend she herself was a princess, directing ponies, and whatever they did, she would pretend they were simply following her orders. It helped take her out of the moment, she’d said.
So, now, everypony around her was given imaginary orders to wait for the elevator with her, and she smiled slightly at that.
Ding! “Going up.”
More ponies pushed past her.
Just like she ordered them to.
She swallowed a small lump in her throat.
Perhaps giving orders wasn’t her style. When she worked with Mayor Mare each Winter Wrap-Up, it was all delegate this, and talk to this pony, and sign this, and deliver that. She just wanted to help animals. But the bureaucracy did work surprisingly well for their little town.
Fluttershy picked three ponies from the crowd that looked like they could get stuff done.
Okay, she thought, you, you, and you will need to be my A-team.
When the elevator gets here, we’ll get on, and you each pick one other pony to come with you. Nopony else is getting on this one. We move like a pack of weasels. Smooth, sliding through this crowd like buttery noodles. Pick them out now, and tell them the plan. We only have one shot at this, so let’s make it ding!
“Going up.”
Count, I meant count. Let’s make it— oh, darn it.
The elevator was already full of weasels. One of her A-team didn’t even make it on. She smiled politely at the other two of her Chosen, and they didn’t smile back.
It’s okay, everypony, we can still do this. It turns out we have another shot at it. Actually, we have a lot of shots at it. I need a new A-team.
She mentally selected three new ponies, discarding the one who had failed her. She did not need failures right now. She would rule this elevator waiting nook with an iron hoof.
No time for games, you three. We’re getting this one. I’ve been counting how much time there is between each elevator. It’s exactly two minutes and thirteen seconds. Still a minute and a half before it comes back. Take your positions.
None of the ponies around her reacted.
Cool as cucumbers, she thought.
She liked a calm team, because it meant less mistakes.
Though, this was starting to feel more like an exercise for the Royal Guard than bureaucracy.
Ding! “Going up.”
This was her chance! Ponies pushed her from both sides, pressing forward like a raging river, but at last she was at the elevator’s threshold. One more step!
Bzzzzzz! “Weight limit exceeded,” the elevator said.
“Oh. Okay. That’s fine. I can take the next one.”
Fluttershy took a gentle step back and smiled politely at the ponies. One smiled back, but maybe he was already smiling? She couldn’t tell.
When the doors closed, she could see her blurry reflection in the steel doors, and she tilted her head to watch mirror-her tilt her head too.
It’s okay. I can get the next one. I’m New Fluttershy. No amount of politeness can stop me from getting on this elevator. I’m standing on prime real estate now.
This time, she used the muddy reflection to get a rough count of the ponies behind her without looking directly back and risking eye contact.
The elevator can hold about six ponies before it buzzes, I think. So, let’s make some elevator passes! I can be in Group One with five other ponies, and then six others can be in Group Two, and so on. Yeah, that’ll work.
In her mind, she started dividing the ponies into groups and giving them cards with numbers on them. She also “hired” a pass checker who would only allow ponies of the correct group onto the elevator. Group One was ready with their passes, prepared to file onto the elevator in an orderly manner. Something she and Twilight could both agree on being a good thing.
Ding!
Her heart jumped
“Going up.”
The doors slid open, and an entirely empty elevator awaited her. She quickly stepped in and occupied a corner with a barely-audible “Yay!”
More ponies got on.
Bzzzzzz! “Weight limit exceeded.”
Oh no, that poor pony will have to get off and catch the next one, she thought.
After several seconds of silence, the alarm sounded again.
“Somepony’s gotta get off,” one stallion said.
“Not me,” said a mare, “I’m late for a meeting.”
“Me too!”
“Yeah, I can’t wait for another one.”
After several more seconds of disagreement, Fluttershy’s autopilot kicked in. “It’s okay, I can wait,” she said, awkwardly shuffling between tightly packed ponies. And then, just like that, she was off the elevator.
In front of her was a sea of eyes. Staring. Judging? She couldn’t tell. She smiled politely. None of them smiled back.
Before she could give them orders or delegate or hand out cards or imagine them as a herd of weasels, she was in a hotel room, accompanied by a very familiar short-lived dizziness that came with being teleported.
“You’re pathetic,” Discord said.
“Discord! What are you doing here? And— hey! Don’t call me pathetic!”
“No, no, my dear Fluttershy, it’s not an insult. I mean literally, you’re pathetic. It’s one of your best qualities.”
She didn’t know what to make of this, so she merely tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. He continued.
“But I couldn’t wait anymore. As fun as it was watching you struggle with some mildly entertaining chaos, I was getting bored being up here all alone.”
“Thank you, Discord,” she said. She set her bags on the floor and smiled happily. He smiled back.
“What do you say we go get lunch?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m starving!”
“Perfect, let’s go get some cake!” he said.
She scowled at him, and he laughed, and with a colorful poof, they were gone.
Hungry, but don’t eat cake.
She wondered how Angel Bunny was doing in the care of Doctor Fauna. She knew the vet was good at her job and taking care of animals, but Angel Bunny could be… particular. Was he being spoiled right now? Taking advantage of his bunnysitter?
Ding! “Going up,” the elevator said in a comfy voice.
Ponies shuffled onto it, and Fluttershy had no free space to move forward despite the flow of hoof traffic, and then it was full.
It’s okay, she thought, I’ll wait for the next one.
She gave the ponies a polite smile as the door closed, and none of them smiled back.
Probably just didn’t notice her.
“Heya, Miss.”
Fluttershy was studying the designs on the carpet, a simple but mesmerizing pattern of lines that seemed to be randomly colored. It reminded her of Discord, but his idea of a chaotic floor would be one that your hooves stick to, and the harder you try, the stickier it is. Something she would be good at traversing, but her friends might not. She hoped Discord was doing o—
“You here for the convention?”
She had to suppress an eep! of surprise, but the moment she realized the stallion next to her was speaking to her, she was looking slightly further up the floor, her current version of eye contact.
“Um,” she said, making eye contact proper, thanks to years of training and practice, “yes.”
“Yeah, me too,” he replied.
That piqued her interest. “Oh, you love animals too?”
He laughed. “Celestia, no. Wait, which convention are you here for?”
“The… the one about saving all those poor animals stuck in Canteral Park? They need to be free to see a real forest. This time, we have a really solid plan to propose to the mayor. I think there are three of us attending this year? I don’t recognize you, though.”
“Oh,” he said, suddenly seeming much less interested in conversation.
Ding! “Going up.”
“That’s me,” the stallion said, quickly weaseling past her to crowd the elevator, and it was again full before Fluttershy could figure out how the first floor elevator going up could possibly not be him.
“It’s okay, I can wait for the next one,” she said under her breath, but in her mind, possibly loud enough for the stallion to hear. She smiled at him politely, and he didn’t smile back.
She was in no hurry. She was two days early for the convention, after all.
A grumpy-looking mare stood beside her now, with a well-maintained mane and an air of business about her. She wondered how Rarity’s Manehattan shop was doing. She could stop by it after visiting her room, perhaps, but it was across town.
At least the weather was nice.
She wondered if the mare had any pets. Then came a thought she would never admit having. She wondered what would happen if this mare gave up her pets to Fluttershy. Maybe some cute little birds, or a kitty, or a ferret. She would love them all, and would make them feel welcome. Unlike this mare, who gave them up just because she was a bad owner who hated her poor little innocent animals. Probably didn’t feed them enough, or maybe yelled at them.
Fluttershy realized she was scowling at the floor.
She had to ground herself, then, and take herself out of her intrusive fantasy.
She smiled politely at the mare, who scowled back.
“Ya need somethin’?”
“Oh! No,” Fluttershy said, “just waiting for the elevator.”
Ding! “Going up.”
Fluttershy stepped forward, but the mare shoved her aside and the elevator was, once again, full.
“Oh. It’s okay. I can catch the next one,” she said.
The mare smirked at her rudely.
Fluttershy felt a little less bad about her fantasy, then.
More ponies crowded around her, giving her no room to move. Younger her would have felt claustrophobic here, but New Fluttershy was assertive! And didn’t mind crowds!
Breathing in too much caused her sides to make contact with other ponies, so she tried to take shallower breaths.
Nope. New Fluttershy. Didn’t mind!
It’s just a little wait for a silly little elevator. No problems here, she thought.
Twilight Sparkle had taught her some helpful techniques for dealing with this kind of situation. Being friends with a Capital-P-Princess as a foal (her words), she would often pretend she herself was a princess, directing ponies, and whatever they did, she would pretend they were simply following her orders. It helped take her out of the moment, she’d said.
So, now, everypony around her was given imaginary orders to wait for the elevator with her, and she smiled slightly at that.
Ding! “Going up.”
More ponies pushed past her.
Just like she ordered them to.
She swallowed a small lump in her throat.
Perhaps giving orders wasn’t her style. When she worked with Mayor Mare each Winter Wrap-Up, it was all delegate this, and talk to this pony, and sign this, and deliver that. She just wanted to help animals. But the bureaucracy did work surprisingly well for their little town.
Fluttershy picked three ponies from the crowd that looked like they could get stuff done.
Okay, she thought, you, you, and you will need to be my A-team.
When the elevator gets here, we’ll get on, and you each pick one other pony to come with you. Nopony else is getting on this one. We move like a pack of weasels. Smooth, sliding through this crowd like buttery noodles. Pick them out now, and tell them the plan. We only have one shot at this, so let’s make it ding!
“Going up.”
Count, I meant count. Let’s make it— oh, darn it.
The elevator was already full of weasels. One of her A-team didn’t even make it on. She smiled politely at the other two of her Chosen, and they didn’t smile back.
It’s okay, everypony, we can still do this. It turns out we have another shot at it. Actually, we have a lot of shots at it. I need a new A-team.
She mentally selected three new ponies, discarding the one who had failed her. She did not need failures right now. She would rule this elevator waiting nook with an iron hoof.
No time for games, you three. We’re getting this one. I’ve been counting how much time there is between each elevator. It’s exactly two minutes and thirteen seconds. Still a minute and a half before it comes back. Take your positions.
None of the ponies around her reacted.
Cool as cucumbers, she thought.
She liked a calm team, because it meant less mistakes.
Though, this was starting to feel more like an exercise for the Royal Guard than bureaucracy.
Ding! “Going up.”
This was her chance! Ponies pushed her from both sides, pressing forward like a raging river, but at last she was at the elevator’s threshold. One more step!
Bzzzzzz! “Weight limit exceeded,” the elevator said.
“Oh. Okay. That’s fine. I can take the next one.”
Fluttershy took a gentle step back and smiled politely at the ponies. One smiled back, but maybe he was already smiling? She couldn’t tell.
When the doors closed, she could see her blurry reflection in the steel doors, and she tilted her head to watch mirror-her tilt her head too.
It’s okay. I can get the next one. I’m New Fluttershy. No amount of politeness can stop me from getting on this elevator. I’m standing on prime real estate now.
This time, she used the muddy reflection to get a rough count of the ponies behind her without looking directly back and risking eye contact.
The elevator can hold about six ponies before it buzzes, I think. So, let’s make some elevator passes! I can be in Group One with five other ponies, and then six others can be in Group Two, and so on. Yeah, that’ll work.
In her mind, she started dividing the ponies into groups and giving them cards with numbers on them. She also “hired” a pass checker who would only allow ponies of the correct group onto the elevator. Group One was ready with their passes, prepared to file onto the elevator in an orderly manner. Something she and Twilight could both agree on being a good thing.
Ding!
Her heart jumped
“Going up.”
The doors slid open, and an entirely empty elevator awaited her. She quickly stepped in and occupied a corner with a barely-audible “Yay!”
More ponies got on.
Bzzzzzz! “Weight limit exceeded.”
Oh no, that poor pony will have to get off and catch the next one, she thought.
After several seconds of silence, the alarm sounded again.
“Somepony’s gotta get off,” one stallion said.
“Not me,” said a mare, “I’m late for a meeting.”
“Me too!”
“Yeah, I can’t wait for another one.”
After several more seconds of disagreement, Fluttershy’s autopilot kicked in. “It’s okay, I can wait,” she said, awkwardly shuffling between tightly packed ponies. And then, just like that, she was off the elevator.
In front of her was a sea of eyes. Staring. Judging? She couldn’t tell. She smiled politely. None of them smiled back.
Before she could give them orders or delegate or hand out cards or imagine them as a herd of weasels, she was in a hotel room, accompanied by a very familiar short-lived dizziness that came with being teleported.
“You’re pathetic,” Discord said.
“Discord! What are you doing here? And— hey! Don’t call me pathetic!”
“No, no, my dear Fluttershy, it’s not an insult. I mean literally, you’re pathetic. It’s one of your best qualities.”
She didn’t know what to make of this, so she merely tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. He continued.
“But I couldn’t wait anymore. As fun as it was watching you struggle with some mildly entertaining chaos, I was getting bored being up here all alone.”
“Thank you, Discord,” she said. She set her bags on the floor and smiled happily. He smiled back.
“What do you say we go get lunch?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m starving!”
“Perfect, let’s go get some cake!” he said.
She scowled at him, and he laughed, and with a colorful poof, they were gone.