Missing Pages & Scrawled Footnotes
by Ice Star
First published
Iceverse minifics. Little bits of world building, style experiments, character pieces, and such dumped in this anthology. Also, stuff I never finished and poems.
A collection of chapters now have readings by the generous Lotus Moon! Please be sure to check it out!
Little bits of world building, style experiments, character pieces, and all sorts of under 1,000 words such dumped in this anthology. I might turn them into larger stories at some point, but not really. No spoilers unless noted otherwise. May also include deleted scenes and discarded first draft snippets as well as one shots that can't stand on their own (but lack proper sequels/prequels) and cancelled stories (if I have any, they'll be moved here)*.
Character tags represent the most recurring characters, however in this case the 'Other' tag merely reflects other canon characters. Each bit takes place in the Iceverse, so your mileage may vary.
Oh, and a warning that this may also contain any of the following (which will of course be noted in the author filibuster box):
*Poetry
*Extensive rambling
*Lore!
*Really short stories
*Dialogue-only drabble
*Experimental poetry
*Potentially unexplained happenings
*Shipping
*Seriously, lots of rambling from yours truly
*Prompts
*Since this is an AU anthology expect plenty of headcanon and utter (possibly) nonsense on my part
*Anything else my mind may come up with (the tags will/might start to reflect this as time goes on) There's an anthology tag for that now, because knighty finally did a good thing! Wow!
*At this point let's leave it at "(Your Ad Here) have mercy on your soul."
Although this is marked as complete, it technically isn't. I just keep it like that for organization's sake. Updates whenever I have writing scraps. If you're looking for missing Luna/Sombra chapters, please check out this story here.
*As will notes about the plot and what would have happened if I continued. This only applies to published stories that ended up cancelled, not discarded drafts. Whether or not the contents of the story is still canon will be noted in the A/N as well as the lack of a [Scrapped] tag.
In History, Maybe [Minific]
Author's Notes:
This bit is really quite simple: a rather dramatic Lost Cities-esque challenge for myself (which I probably failed since I don't think I followed all the rules) starring Rainbow Dash and the remains fallen kingdom of Aerogard. Don't know what Aerogard is? A young Luna mentions all you need to know of the Old World realm in Of Fever Dreams And Falling Stars:
"Somewhere there is a kingdom called Aerogard. Daddy says that is where weather that is not rogue like ours* comes from."
*Everfree weather
In History, Maybe
Everyone|Drama|Adventure
Rainbow Dash stumbles across the remains of a once-great city, only it isn't much of a city anymore.
The clouds were in no rush to cloak the mountains, where snow and fog still veiled each summit. A fleck of blue dances among them, a brief flash of color accompanies this and it too is gone, vanishing into the chilly thin air.
These mountains had names once. They were taller, their great peaks spearing the sky and towering high above the defiant pegasai who dared to surpass them. The wings of the creatures not fit to attempt to brave the heavens where many said they could truly breathe never reached what was even higher.
This is were only the best could soar, right between wherever it was that one's coat began to freeze, becoming streaked with ice crystals and the arias of the wind were replaced by the sparse gasps of one's own breath only for the wails to resume in a heartbeat.
Its size rivaled a dozen islands. The mortals of present times could not construct sixteen scale replicas of Manehatten on the largest cloud-state and even come close to capturing half of its surfaces.
Silvers, pinks, grays, oranges, purples, and blues came before white was even thought of. The city roared and rumbled, held together by the work of millions of pegasai and their gods. They laughed at the griffins in the mountain ranges below whose homes were built upon the rocky veins pulsing with magic. The pegasai may need certain food from below but to live there? They scoffed at the notion.
It was in times like these that a winged warrior like them could fight seven wars in the sky without ever knowing the feeling of the earth below one's hooves.
The mare who comes here today hardly resembles many of the veterans that lived then. Only her spirit is the same. She has come close enough to the mountains to taste rock in the air. Snow tries to cling to her form, but her speed brings only oblivion to the small flakes. Her coat is not bitten by them, only the wind knows her fur.
Their magic was bitter and brutal. Trails color streaked across the sky and it would be laughable to call them ribbons for there was no delicacy to this ability. Colors whizzed across the sky then, and the ones at the front of such comet-like occurrences transported weather to all the lands as well as clashed in a territory that belonged to none but them, for even the dragons and most of the gods preferred frequenting other areas in the sky, never did they live there like the pegasai who had even managed to grow quite a few staples up there in the sky, knowledge which is lost today.
The pegasai, loud, brash, and loyal were the ones who shepherded the weather on long tours across a level where only they lingered. Those of their kind who wished not to follow the more military life did not have to. Some left for the ground, the more artistic of these warriors tried their hooves at crafting weapons, words, and weather. Others became criminals, battling against their brethren as bandits.
It wasn't a life for everypony, but for those who chose it nothing could be better.
She flies down among the mountains she saw. This particular range, a blur of silver and white was halved in the fall. The stone beneath her hooves is almost smooth at points, like the shades of an oil painting, with very little texture to be found.
Of course she won't remember, if any do it all.
Fire burned, and the city-states were no more. Each column and god burned, although maybe not in the same place. Ponies were lost as well and those who were left forgot the fire of strange colors that managed to burn the clouds and bring a dead silence to the sky.
As it fell, soaring to the ground below the mountains not broken by the gods' battle it hit the land where the rainbow mare now stands. It crumbled and sliced, wearing the rocks smooth.
Rainbow Dash is closer to the summit's shadow now, and here she finds a chunk of cloud scarred deathly gray. This rubble is made in the ways of old, which are not even fairy tales to her generation. It was petrified by time and fire.
She holds it in her forehoof. A faint pattern is on it and while it faintly reminds her of Cloudsdale she cannot accurately place the pattern. She knows only that this feels like a sculpted cloud even if the method is not known to her.
There are others like it here, buried beneath it all.
They all had names: the ponies, the cities, the tales, the art. Everyone of them had a name.
And now they are gone.
Frozen In Time [Minific]
Author's Notes:
Another surprisingly simple piece. Tia and Luna out in the snow as fillies. No background needed if you just want to enjoy some Tia POV here. Chronologically between A Blade Of Moon And Stars and Of Fever Dreams And Falling Stars. More Tia and Luna stories can be found here. I did notice that compared to some of my other stories she does have a more childish voice here (it was very amusing to write).
Frozen In Time
Everyone|Adventure|Sad
Celestia remembers an important promise.
We stood out in the wood's edge and looked out onto the plain. Luna was somewhere behind us. It was still early this morning and there was a light snowfall. Perhaps it was around noon, but both Luna and ourself no longer have a clock now that we left the castle. Breakfast this morning was whatever rations were stored away in our packs.
We push away a lock of pink mane that has been carefully brushed for the new day of traveling. Under our cloak, which has been brought out for the winter, We can sense our feathers. Some of them feel quite cold, but fluffy down and thick fur has kept most of the cold's effects away. As for our mane, We had to bring our brush with us when We were packing with Luna. Even though she never brought hers We sit down with her whenever possible and make sure to remove any knots.
It has not been too long since the Everfree Forest was really gone. We have passed through a hoofull of others now but none of them are quite as magical. Now the two of us have reached the edge of a plain not too far away from the Everfree Forest. According to our map we looped around the coastal areas when it got too warm. It could be bad for Luna to have her out so much, especially in the heat. We returned inland only to be snowed upon.
At least Luna seems happy. She loves all the seasons, even winter. We suppose this is a good thing since...well we are both going to be outside so much now...until we find them.
We made a promise, too. Promises means We cannot think about how happy something makes us but how happy it will make Luna and if it is good for her. We always liked to help others but now We have to help Luna all the time because We are a big filly and a princess and big fillies take care of their sisters and princesses are always kind and giving, or at least We think princesses should be kind and giving like in the stories We tell Luna. Hopefully there will be enough ideas in our head to keep her happy, for a long time.
We have to be everything to her, like Mommy and Daddy but somehow both of them and her sister too. This way, when we find them We shall show Mommy and Daddy how good We were to Luna and Luna will smile so much and we can all go home once we find them because they promised to come back and they always keep their promises.
...
Mommy had pulled us aside just before her and Daddy go off on that big important errand. Errands are brief, but they kept talking like they'd be gone such a long time.
We think that Daddy would be here too but since he is not it must mean that Luna is still crying. Normally, whenever Luna cries We are always there to make her happy again unless she was being a baby. We are not a baby anymore so We cannot help her with that but maybe Mommy and Daddy should listen to us more because it takes them longer to cheer up Luna. When We get to cheer up she starts to sing, usually her name for us: Tia, and then we go off to play. Nopony else calls us Tia. Not our parents or our cousins, aunts, and uncles. Nopony. Luna does not sing in front of anypony but us either even though she is very good no matter how much We have to look away and tell her she is not that great.
"Celestia look over here."
We really want to go and help her but Mommy looks so serious and worried. She has the Listen To Me Celestia face on which usually means Mommy thinks that We were being bossy even though We are not bossy. No, no, not at all. Bossy? This filly? We look right at Mommy to prove that We cannot possibly be bossy. Princesses are not bossy.
"Do you know what this trip means for you?"
She sounds really worried. Is it because We were a bit aloof? It is just a trip but Mommy and Daddy are so nervous about this and We cannot imagine why.
"It means We run the kingdom, right Mommy?"
"No Celestia, neither you or your sister are old or educated enough for that."
"Mommy We can read very well, and even though Luna does not know all of the really, really big words she is good at it even if her penmanship leaves much to be desired!"
She gives the Celestia Please Stop Or So Help Us All sigh, or at least that is what Luna calls it because she names everything so we are really just stealing them. No, borrowing. Princesses do not steal.
"That is not what-"
"Mommy what did you mean?"
"Celestia you have to promise to take care of Luna while we are gone."
"Really, is that all? We can do that! After all it will only be a few cycles as the sun and moon go, right?"
Mommy looks at me but We do not know how to describe this look. Oh, if only Luna were here to do so.
"A few months?"
We receive no answer.
...
We turn around, peering back to look for Luna. She walks behind us, her own cape fluttering about. It is now dotted with the very snowflakes she catches on her tongue.
The snow is wet around our hooves and so soft that we both sink right though.
Her laughter is the only sound that matters.
We silently renew our promise before urging our sister onward.
Silent Steps [Minific]
Author's Notes:
No spoilers here, just a bit based on a horse picture and music. The only super in-universe thing in here is the mention of Opal Charm, the queen who ruled before Sombra.
Silent Steps
Everyone|Drama
Cadance recalls a dance she has never been to when she hears mysterious music in the castle one day.
It doesn't matter what time it is or where she was originally walking to. The rhythm of her hoofsteps stops and is replaced by something else. Cadance can feel it in her heartbeat, it whispers in her ears and drifts in the soft, chilly air that lingers in the castle today.
There is music, the faint echo of a melody she has never heard before. A few notes of a haunting waltz drift by, like a phantom.
She pauses by the staircase, at first the princess is unsure of what she hears. The sound repeats itself and the notes ring in the air. Cadance's eyes grow wide. There isn't any instrument in the castle to play music such as this, which makes the waltz even more mysterious.
The sounds and style do not strike her as something one would find in an Equestrian ballroom. It sounds too pure, to clear like the faint cling of smooth, pristine wine glasses when tapped together and the hum that comes afterward. Even if one grips their glass in magic, the hum is still present.
Her hoof taps on the crystal floor, will the music stop when presented with a sound that seems much more physical? It does not.
Slowly and with caution Cadance begins to descend the staircase. Was this once a ballroom? Before Sombra's reign did the crystal ponies dance among Queen Opal Charm after Crystal Faire? Perhaps there was a special holiday that she would re-discover with a quick peek through the history books that survived.
Cadance's eyes fluttered and she thinks she knows what the beautiful sight would look like. Crystalline subjects would whirl about elegantly, their coats gleaming with the light and love they possessed more than any jewels could. The manes of mares would be swept up in jewels and beads and the castle would be spotless. Tapestries would hang just right, undisturbed by the more conservative atmosphere some Equestrian celebrations lacked.
Would anypony remember that sort of ball? Not all the archives had survived and after eight years of Sombra's reign and 1,100 sealed within the ice even Cadance was sure her Crystalline subjects could forgot parts of their own history after all that.
The princess strolled off, the music still in her ears. Even if no such celebration existed, she would start one.
Part Six: Broken Youth [Lost Chapter]
Author's Notes:
JUST YOUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD SPOILER WARNING IN GLARING RED TEXT TO KINDLY LET YOU KNOW THAT THERE ARE MANY SPOILERS IN THIS PARTICULAR CHAPTER. HAVE A NICE DAY.
The lost chapter of Through The Snow (which you have to read to get this) featuring the one and only Right-Honourable Lord Sombra! Recovered from deep in the depths of my fanfic file folder maze, this incomplete chapter was recently finished for your enjoyment (and cause I wanted to). So have this canon bonus content posted in the scrap/bonus content story compilation.
Random Tidbit: The chapter seen here name was used for the twelfth chapter of The Company We Keep.
Through The Snow
Teen|Tragedy|Dark|Gore
Onyx is a young crystal pony with a twisted mind and a complete lack of foresight. He relishes in the suffering others and has a a distubing chipper attitude. All this is helps conceal his absurd desire for revenge and bloodlust. When he was young Starswirl the Bearded whisked him away from the Crystal Empire with promises of being his apprentice. Years later this led to the one spell that changed Onyx's life and devastated an entire country, and much more.
Sombra is the result of that spell. A young and mysterious unicorn created by a magic almost as twisted as Onyx's mind. Unfortunately, Onyx is now and forever in his mind unable to die or age as they are locked in a constant power struggle and a journey across the Arctic that could claim both their lives should something take a tragic turn.
Notes: In terms of chronology and similar stuff (look how official that is) Sombra is 15 years old, him and Onyx have arrived in the Crystal Empire and it has been usurped (how is literally another story) and Sombra and Onyx (but basically just Onyx because he's the axe crazy one who decided this would be cool) are now the king of the Crystal Empire. (The original note on the chapter was much less eloquent, but has been elaborated here for the sake of readers).
"R-reason one: I was superior to him from the start, so it makes sense that I'll continue to be..."
I swallowed and my gaze shifted from one star to another, all of them glittering against an indigo sky. I was lucky to get a chance to see them. I took a deep breath, hoping to calm down but it came out shaky.
I was lucky to get a chance to see anything.
"Reason two: I'm not an idiot. Idiots don't survive and I know that I will since I'm smart."
I picked out another star in the sky, faintly twinkling. I was sitting on the balcony overlooking this strange country, all was quiet below only a few flames of green-and-purple to be seen but even they were dwarfed by the moon, even though it was covered by a cloud its glow still managed to escape.
Half my world is nothing but black and I'm the only one that knows. I can't ever let it slip and I let the paranoia eat at my mind because it's the only thing that keeps me from another smug retort and whatever deplorable way I'd be maimed if Onyx discovers this.
"Reason three: I know that I'll get through this without losing myself..."
I'm stuck here whether I like it or not unable to run from anything and currently being forced into a life I never wanted while a voice in my head tries to rip me apart from the inside out. It only got worse when he forced this glorified circlet upon my head.
Another swallow from me and I flop down on the cold balcony no longer wanting to count stars or add up reasons any more.
All I want is this to end. I want to be alone forever in a half-dark world as long as I know that it's my own, with no voices and where I'll never see a face other then my own and all I'll ever hear is silence instead of screams. I just want to be my bitter sarcastic self where nopony will ever find me and I won't cry any more and there will be nopony ever again.
A few strands of my mane fall in the way of my right eye, concealing it more then I like. It doesn't bother me, not being able to see out of the left one since I barely had use of it for long. I almost forget what it was like to have use of both anyway.
I reach up to move those strands out of my face before catching sight of my hooves.
The armor on them is covered in blood that isn't mine, which is typical. What's less typical is that I know that I wasn't the one who wielded whatever weapon he choose this time. This time, it was him.
I like the sword. Everything's over so easily with a sword, or at least it is when I use one. I'd have liked to have had my own sword in another time, but I can't have anything but myself and whatever pain is alloted to me. Perhaps it's not as bad as what they get. I don't care, both are awful. He's awful. He likes a knife best because of how he can prolong things.
I'm not the evil one. I'm not the good one. I have to burn it all afterwards. I don't leave that much blood afterwards.
I wonder what it's like, not seeing as much blood as I have without developing a hollow-eyed stare. A pony would do that. I've seen it. Blood is everywhere. Ponies are born in blood, which must be revolting and maybe I'd actually pity them if they didn't have knives of their own, all the things they said about me. I don't care about them, but there's something that isn't right here.
...If for ponies there is lots of blood when a young pony, a foal, is born, does this mean that Onyx is trying to kill me too? Weapons aren't alive, but I'm not a weapon no matter what he says. You don't have to kill a weapon and he's already made it clear that I'm too precious for him to kill, just not in a way I imagine a typical pony would.
My eyes are the color of blood. That's what these crystal ponies say. Well, some of it. Mostly they just scream the most horrible things at me, and I can't quite understand it all. I'm not sorry, but I don't want to do this. I'm not doing anything right but am I doing something so wholly wrong as well? I don't know.
I slam a hoof against the ground and stare up at the darkness.
I would have built my entire world onto the possibility of never having Onyx inside my head.
...Except that possibility didn't exist.
Without Onyx I wouldn't be here. Although I don't need him, Onyx certainly depends on me. Or rather, he depends on having control over me and my currently miserable existence. My life was only brought about by the twisted fantasy of a child. My existence, however miserable it is, was dependent on something other than whatever it takes to make a pony, or any kind of organic life. I'll have to learn what that is some day, if I'm me. There's bound to be something recorded on such a subject. Onyx knows something that appears to deal with the subject, but his knowledge is never without distortion, just like the rest of his twisted mind.
I'm on the wrong end of a metaphorical sword but he's putting all his energy and idiocy into a war he'll never win. He doesn't know that he's fighting a one-sided battle against an opponent that only ever gets stronger, and even though my magic is not infinite he will never compare to me. His only power lies in the bond of the spell and that twisted Book's seduction of such a bloodthirsty mind, and a stupid one as well.
I wiped the blood onto the scarlet cape I wore. The cape of a king. It's not my cape because I'm not the king. I'm not a royal like the tyrant, King Onyx, as he would have styled himself if there was a shred of honesty to him. I'm certainly something above the common lot though, such rebellious potential lies in myself even though I am bound - partially - to what most would consider higher, at least in the superficial social construct of 'status'. It's such a petty thing, really.
Petty, small. Smaller than a king, held as pettier than the royal family. One whose rebellions, however meaningful, will most likely be small.
A Lord or a Lady. That's what I am.
Lord Sombra? Lady Sombra? What's the use in having two different titles for something? 'Lord' certainly has a better ring to it, I suppose. I am Lord Sombra.
I, Lord Sombra, wonder what it's like outside of this place. All the books I've found so far depict an awfully big world most of which isn't even covered in snow, but with mountains. As much as I like snow that possibility sounds amazing - to have something else out there. There's all sorts of history as well, with images of the gods and goddesses and so much literature I can't make sense of, and many blue prints to memorize, but I have a harder way working my way through those since my current reading ability leaves much to be desired. One day, I'll learn.
One day I'll see all that. I told myself I'd live and I would, perhaps I'd become an adventurer. They aren't bound by anything or anypony.
I, Lord Sombra, vow to escape this meaningless struggle for power, counterproductive competition, and needless material 'gain' that others have busied themselves with. I will not be drowned in mindless social pursuits or allow myself to die and be a pawn to those who wish to rule. I will act on my longings to leave such a despicable parasitic relationship if I am able to. I will not act on my best behavior for this monster who thinks his desires rule my own.
I will leave everything, and continue discover the world as it is.
For irony's sake, I am the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra. I'm everything that no pony ever wanted, and I won't bow to anypony, any god, or all who think they can order me about. I will be alone, forever.
Everpony's demon will make every rebellion count, they're like stars, nearly infinite and unique. Each star is a reason I'm better than Onyx and each rebellion will only serve to demonstrate this.
Everpony's demon will act upon this vow in any way that proves tactful and beneficial to himself as soon as he removes his forehooves from his face and ceases crying, shaking under the scarlet robes with blood spattered edges that are illuminated by the moon's light.
I'm the Right-Honourable Lord Sombra, and I couldn't give up even if I wanted to, but it doesn't make me any less lost, no matter how many stars I count.
Equinity [Poems]
Author's Notes:
Some more poems about Luna/NMM and Celly. Horribly depressing. Probably. These never made it into their own full collection like some of my other works. Set some time after Autophobia but before Barr|iers.
Equinity
Sad
Truth
All
is rotting
All
is crumbling
Do you feel trembling?
All
has fallen
The light is out
The Pariah lives on
When you look,
Why do you choose down
upon ponies,
Where you see nothing
but
the dirt where you have fallen?
Yet you have the nerve
to ask,
Why I look above,
Where I can see all,
alone together with the stars.
Over and over
a mortal is born
Again and again
a mortal has died
Time after time
(for all of them, such standard response, nearly automatic)
Yet in your name,
how many tears have I dried?
(a single name, stricken from history, a dusty antique of a memory in my heart's attic)
Lies
Composed, she dons her mask
Expendable is her own welfare
Losing a battle within herself
Expectations of any return smashed
Smiling forever after
Trying to fill the emptiness
In denial, as always
Abhorred by her own actions
Cannot bear to tell any truth
Acknowledge it, even
No longer believes in the Harmony that she preaches
Can't bear to remember any longer
Hollow beneath her coustume
Altering conventions little by little, in her forgotten name
Never wanted to hurt her sister so
Grooms each Faithful Student for a single empty purpose
Even though it is only to reassure herself
Just Weep [Poetry]
Author's Notes:
A poem about filly Celestia during her travels with Luna (for chronology's sake this would have taken place somewhere after Frozen In TIme but before The Dark Side Of The Sun). There aren't really any spoilers here, so go ahead and read without fear of them.
Just Weep
Everyone|Drama
Celestia wakes up in the dark.
Like clockwork—
awaken,
rise from the dirt, fallen star—
alone in the sky that is your world
except for one
brush the vibrant pink veil aside
so you might see her
lying there,
form softened with slumber
white hooves— caked with the world's broken flesh
hide your coveted status
reel within,
at what you've become, sleeping no longer
in the dirt
reach out for your blue companion
and wake her as well
she is not as scared as you
smile upon her, and bestow this light in the dark that you fear
her face is smudged with the dust that cakes her quilts
little child, as bright and alone as ever,
she reaches into the bags next to her—
pulling a brush from the tattered brown fabric,
buckle dull with mud
you do not tell her your fear
little voices whispering in the depths of you,
you smile shakily, having yet to master
perfect composure
and in the dark you count the strokes the brush makes in pale blue
that always finds a way to shine true
unlike, little child — princess no longer — unlike you
you build your mask with care with whatever you can gather
from the world that you feel is hollow
of all but dirt
your smile is as dazzling as the sun that hides the night that you alone fear
and upon your head, as if marking your troubled mind
is dirt caked in the shape of the sun
little child, unmarked and forsaken
lie no longer to yourself
just weep
Arachnae's Loom [Unfinished] [Scrapped]
Author's Notes:
STOP! EXCESSIVE SPOILERS LIE WITHIN THIS EXCERPT-Y THING IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THROUGH THE SNOW, TOMB OF MAGIC, AND OTHER STORIES INVOLVING ICEVERSE STARSWIRL. THIS IS A VERY CONTEXT-HEAVY SCRAP THAT YOUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD CAPS LOCK HAS KINDLY WARNED YOU ABOUT. PLEASE DON'T READ ANY FURTHER BECAUSE SPOILERS ARE NO FUN! THANK YOU!
What happens when you try to combine crack shipping, villain origin stories, historical drama, lots of lore and even more? This scrapped story, of course! The idea sprang when I was talking with a friend about what Starswirl's youth must have been like in the Tribal Era where everypony was stupid beyond belief. The idea was to take cues from Starswirl's shown traits and write an 8,000 some word story about how he's a freaking prick and why he lives alone in a valley and stuff like that.
Then came the idea to bring in Chryssie. That started because I needed something that would ruin a bit of Starswirl's life (even though he had it coming) to show not only his lack of empathy for anything outside of being the pony equiv. of Donald Trump (in this universe, at least). A problem befitting a Dark Age noble who would have been considered an adult at the time - even though he and everypony else would be far from it - or at least just somepony with a bloodline and money:
Arranged marriage.
And then came the thought of who he would marry. Somepony who didn't want to be pushed around of course! That's how Chryssie was brought in, and it was decided she would become what she is via magic accident after an arguement. Next, I had the idea of bringing in even more conflict to this tragedy to help support how a magic accident so powerful to create the first of an entire race could occur in an age where teleportation was considered a miracle beyond words and Alicorns had been forgotten.
Have Starswirl - who isn't quite what history remembers him as (mostly due to his life and personality being lost to time) - and certainly isn't anypony special or particularly powerful (he never finishes his spells) but is styled as one because society says so meet somepony - pre-accident Chryssie - who is actually hiding true talent and become antagonistic towards them. Yay, life.
And then the first changeling queen or something would happen. This scrap is sorta from months ago so I don't quite recall what the original outline was since if this had gone through it would have been written ages ago.
It was scrapped because the story wasn't flowing very well and that spark I have for pretty much every other story ever was missing. Something felt wrong, so it was discontinued. Plus it turns out, that according to a small bit in Of Fever Dreams And Falling Stars - which occurs hundreds of years earlier - changelings already exist and aren't transformed ponies.
Here were some notes I typed about Starswirl based on how he behaved and thought in various stories and stuff:
-Starswirl ran away as a teenager as shown in Spare Him His Life
-He was from a noble family
-His parents were 'normal' (stupid nobles but not mean spirited or overly racist like he is)
-12 years old in story? Gah, his age is so undefined...
-city-born noble
-privately taught/did not go to a ye olde school of some kind
-Starswirl enjoyed the misery of common ponies as shown in Through The Snow
-Starswirl was a 'scholar' by Tribal standards (read: he's an idiot)
Teen|Tragedy|Romance
[Summary was lost, sorry]
I'm honestly not sure why the romance tag was there. Because crackshipping? Neither of them were even gonna like each other at all, I mean Starswirl's this complete-
You know what? Just enjoy the scrap and I'll stop rambling.
Until next excerpt!
~Icy
There was a single color that defined the world that Aracnae lived in. A gray sky with titanium clouds and silver snow that rained upon a ground where little grew, even when the slush had soaked away. The cold never left this country, so what little crops managed to survive the first wave of snow and ice that caused the few weeks of almost-warmth to submit to winter once again.
Maybe, if there were proper artists whose works felt as alive as their subjects instead of being as flat as their eyes that barely saw what was in front of them, the gray could be nice. Arachnae wasn't a pony who thought this. She was exchanging one manor for another. While this one was bound to have the same gray world surrounding it, and portraits coated with fine layers of ash, it could have other things as well.
It could.
There will be a castle of stone, also gray, to crouch over them all.
It might.
Her mother said there would be better tailors in the capital. Arachnae said some things is response.
It must.
Father had almost disinherited her for those things.
It will.
This arrangement had been set up and it was final, after all. She would leave the dreary manor in the country where she was born
[THE LAST LINE WAS UNFINISHED]
Stay Golden [Unfinished] [Scrapped]
Author's Notes:
A scrapped spoopy story to play with the concepts of:
-blood magic (which is a variation of dark magic in the Iceverse that only the Alicorn Amulet can bestow)
-writing purely spoopy stuff
-all OC stories
-gore that isn't distasteful
-another 'bad seed' character
-motifs (gold and blood)
-spoopy spoopiness and dramatic irony
-a violent and selfish pony just waiting to be corrupted...but unlike another character I have written gets no chance to tell their story from their POV
-my last Spoopy Day story (The Company We Keep) was posted late so I wanted to have one that wasn't posted late, you know?
Maybe one day I'll finish this. Who knows? It was planned to be about 4,000-10,000-ish words and have seven chapters, the names of which I'll put here 'cause why not:
1) Marigold Blueblood (a prologue of sorts, which appears here)
2) Spoiled Rotten (because I must have plenty time to describe how much of a bitch the OC protagonist was going to be)
3) Ruby Red (I don't recall a major outline event for this one as I type it oops)
3.1) I think 3 was supposed to be her getting the Amulet, yeah that
4) Blood Magic (self explanatory)
5) Bad Blood (more moider)
6) Diamonds Are Forever (prolly was gonna have motif I dunno)
7) Ichor (ironic death)
Stay Golden
Teen|Dark|Gore
There's two things the nobility care about... blood and coin.
Also, yes I know the color codes are kinda changing and not the same each time but just roll with it, okay? Sheesh.
Note: 'Pallas' is the nickname of Palladium. Thought I'd clear that up since the text never mentioned it. Whoops!
Marigold Blueblood was a name that nopony wanted to remember, especially the House of Blueblood themselves. On their neat and prim family tree this little flower was nothing but a weed from the start that had cost the brother of the then-current head his place in the household.
But even though Marigold herself was a name that was meant to be forgotten to these uptight nobles for more than just the scandal of her birth, soon Equestria itself would want to curse her name half the time and just beg that she be forgotten the remaining half.
Marigold, like all foals, wasn't born with any proof of what she would grow up to be. Maybe somewhere in her mind was the latent shallowness that had been known to effect some members of the Blueblood house, or it could have been something all her own, which the staunchly moral Bluebloods wished had been the more popular rumor.
Rumors were how all of Canterlot came to know of Marigold Blueblood before she even entered the world and the first rays of light she would ever see touched her wicked eyelids.
The two Blueblood Brothers - as they had been popularly known in their time before the younger's disinheriting. They were two of the stuffiest stallions in the century before the return of Princess Luna at the end of Celestia's Millennium. Palladium was the elder and heir to an ornamental house, only in succession because of an archaic tradition that few bothered to follow. He was average and unremarkable except for the wealth he was surrounded by from the first day of his life. Unlike his younger brother and baby sister, Platinum VII, he was groomed to sit on a large sum of money and whatever gossip passed for politics in the court that only acted as a foil to the crown jewel, Celestia, no matter how much ponies could forget that.
Platinum had yet to grow up and realize that she had been given a gods-awful repeat of a name that only her house would ever praise, as empty as those words would be and about as original as her parent's naming 'sensibilities'.
The middle brother to both, and the younger to the heir Duke Pallas was Rhodium - or Dee for short. If there was anything Dee hated more than anything it was stopping to think about the decisions he made. He was the epitome of recklessness and rash decisions.
How he got through life was a joke among the court and a problem in is family who only hoped that all their efforts would pay off and he'd be responsible and mature at some point with his siblings' help.
With Pallas' help Rhodium was able to convince a sensible and wealthy businessmare to marry him. For Pallas, Platinum, and the rest of the Bluebloods this all they could hope for.
And then Rhodium met Petunia Petals, a young and equally reckless earth pony mare. She was a tourist from the fledgling village of Ponyville. It wasn't long before all of northeast Equestria spat at their names and Rhodium Blueblood was only Rhodium, disgraced unicorn and there was nopony at his side now as news of the first affair in Equestria in centuries.
One year later, Petunia Petal gave birth to a little filly she named Marigold, the false addition of Blueblood hanging after the little filly who was hidden away in the Manehatten streets so nopony would recognize her and her mother, despite the name of 'Blueblood' that followed Marigold. The forest of Equestria was about to meet the blight of the Bluebloods.
But first she had to grow up...
Before I Sleep [Unfinished]
Author's Notes:
This one I really liked...a while after Fever Dreams and as soon as I saw the splendid art I knew I wanted to revisit the setting again. I'll probably finish this one some other time, but for now have this little fragment of a story - a dialogue only story. I wanted Frost to have older sounding dialogue but held that off until the final version I had planned - which isn't shown here.
Spoilers for Fever Dreams. That's it. Only a few minor spoilers.
Before I Sleep
Everyone|Adventure|Drama|Mystery
Frost is a young filly who's unsure of what to believe in her small corner of the world. Life feels so tiring and she knows nothing but everyday boredom in the time before Nightmare Moon. That is, until she meets the Stranger and she embarks on a journey that will change her life forever.
"Uh...? What is that sound? Who is there?"
"It is just Us."
"'Us'? It only sounds like there is one of you."
"...Perhaps."
"Why are you at my window?"
"We could explain, if We were given the time."
"Who are you? Are you my friend or are you a monster?"
"We are the friend of none, or so it seems but We are no monster."
"I cannot see you, would you come in?"
"We might."
"Please?"
"Ah, We suppose."
"Why do you talk that way if there is only one of you?"
"Do you wish for Us to enter or not?"
"I do, please."
"Very well, child. We shall enter, but do not expect to see our face."
"Ah! You are so tall! How did you find a cloak so black to hide all of you? All I can see is your horn."
"As We wished."
"Oh...are you shy? Your voice is so powerful, I did not think one with such a powerful voice could be shy."
"You would be surprised then, by all the things you can find in this world."
"Oh. You do not sound like you like the world."
"Eh, it is not a matter We are willing to discuss."
"Are you going to tell me why you are here now? Please?"
"We shall."
"Uh, thank you. Is that the proper response? Is this a test? Why are you in my bedroom?"
"This looks more like a closet. Small and dusty. Do you breathe well in here?"
"It is my bedroom, or at least the one that I was given."
"We see. Now do you wish to know the purpose of Our visit or not?"
"Yes, but maybe we should be quieter?"
"What is your name, young one?"
"My name? It is Frost. Frosty Meadows."
"And this is your home?"
"No, this is a foster home."
"But you live here?"
"Yes."
"How did you come to live in this foster home?"
"My parents died and nopony respectable wanted me. That is what I was told, at least. I do not know what the big word means."
"It does not have the same meaning it used to, she made sure of that."
"Huh?"
"Go on."
"But that is it. There is no reason I am here other than what the Princess' official said."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Princess Celestia, she rules Equestria and smiles a lot. She likes parties and gold. Every filly wishes they could be her."
"Even you?"
"I have never even met her. This is the uncivilized land. That is what the Princess' officals say."
"It is called a frontier."
"Is your tone always as dry as the desert outside?"
"Hmm. We suppose."
"What is a frontier?"
"Where you live. This land of the cacti, sand, and heat."
"The sun beats down on everypony here."
"Yes, she does."
"What?"
"It is nothing you must know. May I continue my tale? Or should I ask why this 'closet' has a window?"
"I did not build this place. I would not know."
"It seems as if we both found another rabbit hole to delve into. Who do you live here with?"
"The stuffy mare and the strict stallion. They tell me to stay in town and make friends."
"And?"
"They tell me to be like other ponies and dress nice. The first one is because the Princess enforces lots and lots of ponies talking and doing the stuff she says."
"Conformity?"
"Something like that, I think."
"Normalcy?"
"Uh, I do not know that one."
"Status quo?"
"That one. I remember that one."
"It certainly sounds like her."
"Do you know the Princess?"
"There are two princesses."
"I was told of Princess Celestia who raises and lowers the sun."
"Only her?"
"Yes."
"Of course you were."
"Is it some kind of joke to forget the other one? Is she even important? It is so hard to get news down here, in the, uh...'frontier' that it either gets lost or is not very important."
"Oh."
"Are you sad?"
"We-"
"If it is a joke, it must be a mean one. I know a lot about mean jokes."
"We are sorry that you do."
"It is because they say I am not a pony when nopony thinks I'm listening."
"Why?"
"Why do you ask if it sounds like you already know?"
"Please tell Us anyway."
"I am part buffalo. Do you see my big, furry legs? I cannot race with anypony around here, even if somepony let me."
"Are you lonely?"
"Uh...yes. Sort of. I just do not want to be around anypony like this any longer, the ones who say I am not a real pony because my magic is not that good and my legs are not thin or because my gray-mulberry coat is ugly. Everypony here is named for something that can be found within a few miles: the plants, the sun, the river, and the clouds. Those are things that the mares and stallions that praise the sun-mare and wear the heavy cloth name their foals. I have never even seen a frost and I do not know what it is either."
"Are you tired?"
"Very."
"Oh!"
"Huh? What is it, Stranger?"
"Your mane - We see it has streaks of white that flow through it, like it was woven in through the gray."
"When I was a filly, I was caught in a storm with my father's tribe - I do not remember him well, or my mother - but there is still their smiles and laughs in my mind, Stranger. My mother was one of the cloth-wearing ponies - you know the ones who wear not just cloaks but ones studded with shining dew and stars."
"Gems?"
"Is that what they are called?"
"Yes."
"All I remember next is that I was here, in town with a pony wearing bright sunlight on his flanks and head telling me it was by the grace of Celestia I was saved and that the goddess must have blessed my name."
"Did you believe him?"
"I do not know what to believe, Stranger."
"And why is that?"
"I do not feel like I know anything. The cloth-clad ponies say one thing, the ponies who are part sunbeam say another, as did my family, I imagine. The fillies and colts here repeat what they are told and believe it wholeheartedly, but when they speak these things, their words are crueler and sharper."
"What do you tell yourself?"
"Nothing at all, Stranger. I am too tired to believe much."
"And what of Us, the stranger. Do you believe anything We say?"
"I think so, yes."
"Would you ever leave all this, if you were given the chance?"
"I do not see any reason to stay..."
"Then follow me."
...
[STORY ENDS HERE]
Twitch [Original Minific]
Author's Notes:
Eh, this is just some short thing I typed about Luna's life before NMM. It touches on the subject of selective mutism and the silence between Luna and Celestia at the time. Occurs before All the World. It's the minific version of my oneshot Twitch.
Twitch
Teen|Horror
It's very quiet in the castle.
Swallow. Blink.
A deep breathe - the loudest sound she'll make all day. The one that will never be heard. Well, only by her with the midnight coat.
Every day continues. Nothing looks wrong to the average pony - and why would it? They aren't very observant to begin with.
Celestia, with her bright white coat and harsh radiance chatters among them, as if she could lower herself to their level and call herself a pony, no longer content with what she is. She tries to forget and Luna tries to talk.
It's simple, right?
Think of what to say.
Open her mouth.
Speak.
Only it wasn't simple.
Don't talk became can't talk.
Her mind swarmed with details of the everyday, all the little sorrows and joys that bathed in the air around her.
Everything sparkled like glass, so obvious. Unlike her - noticeable. Each day was brighter, each night shunned even more.
Each star a curse.
Mouth open - that was Celestia. Talk, talk, talking. Smiling. Welcoming. Whatever they wanted her to be. She was the sun.
And she burned.
It wasn't that Luna didn't know what to say as hallways passed her eyes and another pony passed her like a ghost, or maybe more like furniture: present but unimportant. What need was there to pay any attention to her?
She knew exactly what she wanted to say. Always, always when she had spoken she had spoken well.
But she knew everything that had to be said.
Each syllable that would sound like thunder to her own ears even if it were but a whisper.
That is what made it difficult.
She could see the road before her.
Going in blind would be far, far easier.
She sits next to Celestia on the forgotten throne. Half the room of stone - sharp angles and dull hues in a neat tomb, imperial beyond beleif, majestic, and properly suffocating - was gold.
Sun-gold.
She blinked in pain.
Yellow flowers knew to keep soft. These banners bled. Her gaze dropped. Every crack on the floor swam in front of her, every speck of dust made itself noticeable.
Luna drew a deep breath just quiet enough not to come across as bored. The noble droned on, ill-chosen words falling from his lips and cluttering the air with their meaninglessness. Each utterance was hollow.
Everypony stood on the side of gold - the only one they could see. They nodded, jewels gaudy. Celestia gave the noble a smile - he must have said something she liked.
Luna's mind dipped beyond noise. Her face a comforting stoic look.
She was surrounded by ponies. Alone.
Alone was but a different way to spell 'peace' for this dark mare. She shifted quietly in her seat, forehooves quietly in front of her, slouching slightly.
Her mind screamed as she watched the mouth of the noble move. Each of his words was wasted, wasted, wasted...
Celestia complimented his presentation, a mask of seriousness overtaking her pursed-lipped smile before she allowed it to widen again.
Luna wanted to cut the strings her sister has burrowed into herself. Blue eyes went unnoticed as they watched the next noble enter, the cacophony and clinks of ill-spent phrases and practised greetings dropping to the ground before he even entered the room. The walls echo with their worthlessness.
Luna's stare widens. She's completely forgotten now, eyes boring into Celestia.
She does not hide their horror, raw and tearing. Celestia gives a kindly smile, veils of subject-centric thoughts narrowing her vision as she is unaware of her shadow's distress. Misery. Panic.
After all, is it not the princess - pretty, loved, popular, following the cues - to make sacrifices? Luna watches as her sister bravely sacrifices the good of one for the mewling silk-clad idiots' attention before her. One over many - it's the sun's way.
Speak, speak, speak, roars the thunder in her mind. Her vision swims.
Every detail stands out, screaming and bright. The glitter of her sister's crown, the lace of her gown. The Everfree palace sparkles with the recent cleaning it has in honor of the new day.
Slowly, Luna tears her gaze away from her sister.
The far wall becomes her focus.
Her heart is steady - this is everyday - and she tries to only listen to that.
It doesn't work - all the sounds and stray vowels that drift through the air find her ears.
Luna almost blinks, to her it feels like a slow movement but she knows it's far quicker.
A faint tic, a twitch that passes the notice of others.
Not a dream.
She can't tap Celestia to catch her attention.
They had made a silent treaty signed with bitterness, stubborn will, and everything between them. Luna still remembers the sound of the screams in their last fight that tore at the mere scraps their relationship had been in then.
Sisters in name only.
Celestia ruled and Luna...
Luna's jaw twitches.
One minute is over.
Swallow. Blink.
There's still many more to come.
Favorable Alignment [Deleted Scene] [Fluff] [Omake] [Sombra/Luna]
Author's Notes:
This was the original opener for Chapter 27. It was scrapped because I didn't feel it fit the story - but I wasn't going to delete it so I put it here instead. It contains spoilers and stuff. Also Sombra's POV. Face it - sometimes we just have to write snarky demons and witty goddesses acting like dorks. This is one of those times.
So it's more of a silly nn-canon/misc. scene I typed when I was really, really tired...
Favorable Alignment
Teen|Romance|Adventure|Drama|Gore
Gods cannot die, so what happened so long ago that ended in the total collapse of civilization?
After many years of unspoken tension mixed with isolated peace those that remained have received the cryptic message many never wished to see. When such events unfold, Princess Luna recalls a desire she thought she had all but buried and leaves Equestria without a word, only to be followed by the enigmatic and arrogant Sombra.
Now Luna and Sombra - whose enigmatic ways have remained undecipherable to every princess so far - try to use what knowledge they have to save the world and themselves.
Luna let the cards fall from her magic onto the deck. The faint gloss on the surface of each one showing under the starlight.
She looked at me with knowing stubbornness and fake contempt. "You cheated."
"I cheated again," I correct with a knowing smirk before giving her one last look at my winning hoof. How lucky I was - Luna was an eager student when I mentioned that I always kept a pack of playing cards in my pocket dimension.
She sighs and tilts her head up to look at the stars. "You certainly are something, Sombra."
Tch. "I would hope so."
"You're lucky I let you cheat at cards!" Luna says, looking me straight in the eyes, if only to fling some of the scattered cards at me - and I let her. My unmoved expression elicit laughter from her and after sitting there, watching her...I feel a small half-smile form. It feels incredibly awkward at first - smiling of all things - but I manage a wry looking one that manages to work well enough.
Luna looks at me with wide eyes when she catches my expression. A card - an ace of hearts to be exact, plucked from the mess around us - is clutched in her magic, already aimed in my direction. Her focus is devoted entirely to me and I know that there's nothing in my teeth and I'm well aware that I'm not bad-looking but Luna's shocked, obvious stare is so obviously amorous and-
Oh...
"You look-" Luna stops for a moment, taking a deep breath and not noticing that she dropped the card she held, "-truly dashing when you smile like that."
I fling one of the cards floating in front of me at her and she yelps.
"Somepony has certainly taken a liking to me."
Luna looks to the side almost immediately. "I have not! It's just that you're..." Luna bites her lip.
"...so charismatic and stunning and you just brush it off..."
Luna stops herself and looks right back at me again. "Stars. Oh stars, oh stars I've got a schoolfilly's-"
I'd say it's a bit more than that but there's no way I'm interrupting something as entertaining as this.
"You know, Luna, you're free to admit I'm irresistible at any time."
Whoops. Too late.
A card soars by my head as I look on with the utmost amusement.
"Fine! I admit it!"
Well, what can I say? It was worth it.
"Do you also admit to owing me an eight of diamonds, since the one you just threw at me went over the rail?"
Luna shoots me a look of deadpan disapproval and sighs again. "Very well, Sombra. You win this round."
"Actually, I won all five rounds we played, thank you very much."
Our eyes meet and my half-smile has grown into an outrageously cocky grin - and honestly, I think it suits me. She picks up another card and throws it at me and it joins the eight of diamonds on its fall.
"And there goes the three of spades."
Luna sticks her tongue out at me and tosses another card in my direction. She's not even trying to hide that she isn't aiming for me.
I watch another one of my cards fly over the rail. She will be owing me a new deck at this rate, but I'll let her have her fun until then.
"I can't say I'm surprised," I mutter to myself, watching each card sail past me, every one of them wrapped in turquoise light as they began their fall.
Tasting Power [One Shot]
Author's Notes:
Formerly published as its own story, this was a style experiment based on a scene in my head. It occurs in the same continuity as my other young Celestia and Luna stories and takes place after The Dark Side Of The Sun but before Ashes.
It also has a review by the Equus Library when it was still a standalone one shot.
Tasting Power
Everyone|Sad
For any pony, learning magic can be hard, even more so when you are a goddess. Perhaps young Celestia's greatest difficulty with magic is the concept of power, something that is mostly unknown to such a little filly who has only her sister for company.
She's about to learn a bit about power today.
The campfire was a problem, probably because it didn't exist as a certain filly wished. Celestia, a young filly with an appearance that was that of a ten year old's and a mane dyed with the light of an aurora so many years ago, looked upon the pile of twigs that huddled a log that was obtained by her younger sister just as the evening sun began to set.
Celestia pursed her lips and stared up at the sickly orange sky; the sun was much farther in its course. The filly cupped her angelic white wings around the unlit fuel, as if she were trying to shelter it.
Her sister was still out searching for the bags she had lost in the snow. Celestia tsked softly, for she knew that 'dropping' the bags that were supposedly lost was just an excuse for Luna to play in the snow that had hit the two wanderers now that they had strayed from the coast.
All the world was still, hundreds of years into their travels and the two little fillies had still not found another equine soul. This greatly bothered Celestia, who missed being surrounded by ponies, but had held her tongue in regards to the subject. Unlike Luna, she didn't like this life of solitude and adventure, but couldn't quite describe her feelings on the subject, which she didn't like to acknowledge. There was no resent for true hatred nor was there enough aching to allow sadness take hold of the filly who always smiled for Luna.
Always.
She shivered as a few flakes of snow fell onto her back, even though they were hardly noticeable, each flake served as a reminder that she wasn't likely to know the comforts of a castle for a long time.
She closed her eyes briefly, exhaling a little harder then she intended, fog forming as she did so. Behind her eyelids she saw the halls as they had left them, the candles they had put out, and the bed she had insisted Luna make. That was their life then, in that castle that belonged to them, the two great shadows of gods that had loomed over them both until one day they had just vanished.
Celestia bit her lip, this was something she rarely thought about, tried not to acknowledge, and never spoke of. This was their life now. No beds, no food that they couldn't cook, no order or routine.
And oh, how cold it could be. If this ever ended, this aimless wandering that Luna loved and the lies Celestia had uttered as she tried to recall every tear in a map that had crumbled away long ago, Celestia knew that she would remember the hated cold she felt. The aching loneliness that only ever effected her.
She'd remember how Luna disregarded their royal heritage, her head having gone without a crown for too long. Celestia wished she had brought hers with her. She wished Luna wouldn't be the scout, the adventurer, the anything but royal filly that she had become and how she insisted that Celestia no longer had to brush her short, coltish mane any more.
How Luna had begun to fly, the happy little bluebird giving no thought to how the nest felt.
Celestia looked back down to the non-existent fire she was sheltering. Somepony would have to cook, and there was no way it would be Luna since she had to go retrieve the bag that held all the food and she couldn't do much more than boil water properly. Celestia shuddered slightly upon recalling Luna's last attempt at cooking something.
She tilted her head up to the sky, her long mane obscuring one magenta colored eye. The thick, multi-colored mass was slightly tangled from when she rose this morning. It was getting colder as well.
Celestia remembered sitting around the large hearth of a castle with Luna ages ago, when the world wasn't so empty. Luna would need a fire to come home to, and she would have to be the one to make that fire.
But she didn't want to, something within herself halted, blocking out the yearning for heat with something else. It was something that left a dry, sour taste in her mouth.
Almost like fear.
Celestia smiles brightly, portrait perfect and gentle, no smile of hers can ever look forced. It can't look truthful. Such was manners. Princesses always had manners and she was a princess.
They were at the age when the should be using their magic as easily as they blink. But they weren't, at least not quite. Luna couldn't control her magic, there was no order or spells to the way she cast magic. Celestia saw no method that she could discern, only that Luna was a natural while she barely even bothered to light her own horn.
It was Luna who had begun to ask more of her almost absurd questions that came with the imaginative nature of her sister. She had no apprehension, nothing within her mind that whispered no, Luna only had wonder that came from looking at the world in her own way.
Celestia swallowed the lump in her throat. There would be nothing else to create fire with, it had to be her magic.
A golden aura, that barely glitters at all in the white world, makes its way onto her horn. It's calm and much clearer than she remembered. When was the last time she used magic?
Celestia feels something stir within her, embers of a fire that she would rather smother. Her magic burned within herself, searching for something that was more than just a little filly trying to coax color into the glittering gold light that threatened to die with another blow of the wind.
Her wings rose to shield herself from the cold she detested and she began to feel a creeping headache somewhere below the base of her horn. She set her teeth firmly in line to prevent her smile from faltering too much and because princesses don't grit their teeth no matter how alone they feel in a white-washed world with a coat as bleached as her surroundings and only a mane to remind her of how everything used to be and all the little lies that piled up around her...
Piles of fuel.
Celestia nearly yelped and fainted as a burning sensation tore through her, igniting every emotion she never even wanted herself to see.
Resentment. Misery. Something dark beneath that fire that felt like it was burning every feeling away made it feel like the opposite was happening, that each was becoming worse. Something so dark she could not see through it.
Hollow.
Young Celestia had discovered power, a brief burning glory, a fool's gold like the aura on her horn, which had lashed out to the log in a tendril of flame, so now were the logs were lit.
She had tasted that glory, eyes wide and hungry. Celestia licked her lips slightly, they felt dry but she didn't care. She didn't feel anything but a yawning hollowness for an eternal moment.
There was a second swallow, heavy, scared, and guilty so she could smile once again at the sloppy fire before her.
She plucked a few burned clumps away from her mane with ease as she composed herself. Little white hooves worked quickly to toss any pastel hair singed gray into the fire, before combing through to make her long, partially wavy mane look as if nothing had happened. Those hooves were quite careful with the lower half of her mane which sparkled and flowed of its own accord.
When that was over with, Celestia sat around the fire, it's golden glow reflecting on the white fur of her chest.
She resumed her wait, nodding off her sentry's pose only to awake to a familiar voice calling her name. Magenta eyes flutter open to look at a blue filly standing in the white. Her eyes are curious little things with a color somewhere between earth and sky and the fuzzy blue fur of her legs are caked with mud and slush that has begun to freeze. A set of dirty saddle bags are slung across her back quite hastily so her wings are hidden from view. Her bobbed mane has been stirred by the winds so it is no longer neat and spills into her eyes.
Celestia gives her sister one of her constant gentle smiles and her dying coal eyes watch as Luna shoots her a large, fleeting mischievous grin and sits down across from her.
Soon, a turquoise fire is lit and Celestia watches as Luna levitates frozen frogs that she had safely stowed away from the cold toward the elder, who recoils slightly. Luna laughs and begins to speak, the first exchange between the two in weeks. Celestia nods and smiles to the rare voice of her introverted little sister, but her eyes linger upon the dancing flame and the guttural, hollow hunger that she wishes to disappear behind veils of smoke.
Celestia had never felt colder in her life.
Crumb-y Day [One Shot] [Fluff]
Author's Notes:
Was once a one shot, but it was shoved in here. Fluffy one-shot, includes cookies. Was meant as a test to see if I can write using the narrator type as well as to try something outside my comfort zone (sweet stories aren't my thing). Considering the quality of my other works, I regard this as my worst story (if only through comparison). However, it is left up/moved for those that wish to read it.
Crumb-y Day
Slice of Life|Everyone
Thirteen year old Shining Armor finds his little sister crying, he makes it his mission to cheer her up and find out why she is crying.
Shining Armor hurried down the empty streets of Canterlot. His school saddlebags thumped against his sides and sweat began to bead under his forelock. He had to get home first. His hooves clacked loudly on the stone streets as he galloped at full speed. Heart thumping wildly, he reluctantly slowed down to fix a dangling buckle on his school bag.
Spilled homework would mean he would be delayed and if he was delayed that means disaster would strike.
His little sister would get all the cookies.
Not only would they be scrumptious chocolate chip cookies, but they would be fresh, and that meant gooey moist chips and just the right amount of softness and chewy-ness for the cookie part as well. Aside from that tempting factor, Shining couldn't let himself be bested by an an nine year old.
After turning a few streets he came to a medium sized two-floor house. It wasn't a super extravagant abode like some of the mansions in other sections of Canterlot, but it was home, with its purple curtains, toy filled backyard, and the occasional bookfort. He rummaged through his bag, magically pulled out his copy of the house key, and turned it in the lock.
Once Shining Armor stepped inside he snuck into the kitchen and found the mutilated white remains of an 'Advanced Equestrian Cultures' test scattered about the floor's surface. On the counter was a plate of cookies that remained untouched. Under the plate was a note from their mom, explaining how she and Night Light, Shining Armor and Twilight Sparkle's father, would be home late so she made them extra chocolaty cookies. As long as they were in bed by 9:00pm.
But none of this was important to Shining. Who cares about chocolaty cookies? His sister had gotten home first and was no where to be seen.
His socially awkward, super smart sister. Even more mysterious was: why was there an exam that could only be Twily's laying ripped up on the floor?
Twilight wouldn't rip up a school paper, would she?
He decided to go check upstairs to see what was wrong, but not before he shoved some cookies in his mouth.
...
When he climbed up the stairs Shining found a trail of papers, books, pencils and even a filly sized school bag flung all around the stairwell.
The trail led up to Twily's room, with the door ajar.
"Twily? Are you alright?"
No response.
What if something had-
No, Shining Armor thought. Maybe she is just napping. Or she slipped. I'm going to go in there and see what is wrong. I'm a responsible thirteen year old colt. I know CPR and I can find some of the Princess' guards if something bad really did happen.
He stepped into her room. Everything looked normal. Her bed was made. Her toy chest was open, and her book shelf was empty.
The bookfort reinforced with blankets in the middle of the room, however was...sobbing.
"Twily?"
Silence then a faint:
"B.B.B.F.F?"
Her voice sounded meek and scared and was at the whiny, pitiable stage in the crying process where you just want to burst into tears as well from hearing it and give the sobber more hugs than there are rays on the Princess' sun.
"Twily, are you hurt?"
More sobs.
"...only my pride..."
"Can I come in the fort?"
"...Okay."
Something was definitely wrong, he thought, she didn't even ask for the password which she normally harasses me for.
Shining Armor crawled inside wiggling around the ballistae, built out of books before magically lifting a blanket fraction of the roof off so he could sit up. This allowed more light to enter the bookfort, revealing a small Twilight with a mussed mane, tear stained face buried in her hooves, and Smarty Pants clutched in her foreleg.
She didn't look up.
Shining gulped. He'd never seen his sister act quite like this before.
"Come on Twily," he prompted, "tell me what's wrong."
"I'm getting sent to a public academy - to magic kindergarten - and I can't be Princess Celestia's student anymore!"
"What?! Who told you this?"
More sobs.
"You know...magic kindergarten isn't so bad...the teachers are really nice and they never have bad juice boxes. Plus, I'm sure you'll still get to eat a ton of graham crackers during snack time."
Even though she couldn't see him, Shining Armor forced an awkward it-will-be-okay smile.
"Twily, come on you love graham crackers. L-o-v-e them. Remember that story we wrote? Where you married a graham cracker monster? I still have it somewhere in my room. I'll read it to you until you die of laughter."
Twilight buried her head further into her hooves. "If magic kindergarten is so great why are you in military school?" she huffed cynically.
"You know that answer: I want to be a soldier. Now if you tell me what is really wrong I'll...umm..."
"I'll let you dress me up like a princess again and we can play attack on the book fort. I learned more about architecture today so we can give your bookfort buttresses. Won't that be nice?"
"No."
"Oh, come on! Don't be a party-pooper. I'm sure it wasn't that bad. If you help me clean up the stairwell and kitchen we can have a sleep over in my room, I'll let you have the top bunk and you can eat as many cookies as you want even if you become sick, I'll take the blame. I promise. Just please tell me what's wrong."
She muttered something into Smarty Pants.
"Twily, could you speak a little louder?"
"I SAID I GOT A BAD GRADE ON MY SUPER-DUPER HARD TROTTISH LANGUAGE & HISTORY EXAM!!!!"
"...Twily, I bet it was only a 'C' okay? They aren't too bad I got them when I was your age. It just means you need to study better for next time. One letter won't determine your life."
"It wasn't a 'C'."
She didn't lift her head.
"Is this fuss all over a 'B'? You've gotten plenty of 'B's' before."
"...It was an 'F'. I won't be able to do a make up project, either."
"Now I see why you are so sad. What did Princess Celestia say?"
"She said she'll help me make a study sheet and then we'll make some flash cards just for the basic history stuff."
"Well that isn't too bad," said Shining Armor, laughing lightly, "Although I doubt you'll ever have to go to Trotland."
Twilight Sparkle lifted her head, sat up and clutched Smarty Pants close. Tears were dried on her face.
"Shiny?"
"Yes?"
"Can I have a cookie?"
"Yeah, let me bring the plate up."
He got up and went to the door.
"Shiny?"
Shining Armor paused in the door way and turned around. "What is it?"
"Do I still get to dress you up like a princess?"
He sighed.
"I don't see why not. I did promise you after all."
Twilight stuck her tongue out and smiled.
Subconscious Star [One Shot]
Author's Notes:
Wildly experimental in style, this werido was first published as a standalone something or other. Please do not feed it.
Subconscious Star
Teen|Dark|Sad
Celestia's subconscious has quite a few things to say to her and it has nothing to do with how pretty her smile is.
This is what happens when I decide to write a second person story and a friend and I checked the pages of the DSM-4 and realized I write Celestia with Borderline Personality Disorder, while still keeping her in character. Feedback is appreciated since I've never written in second person before.
You have lived for thousands of years and have been through more than anypony could realize. The throne was maintained by you alone for one thousand years. You stopped wondering how you brought yourself through each day after the first two centuries. The words of many a diplomat have been heard by your ears when you sat alone.
Just as there were many diplomats, there were many students to pass under your wing as well. Each started out the same in your eye. They were always obedient little shadows, newly bestowed with the title of Faithful Student as they stood in the silver light of your greatest regret and the sunlight that you bring.
Two graduated successfully, becoming as close as to gods as ponies could be. Others quit, some failed, and others became monsters. Each and every one of them had something in common despite the different paths each was lead on.
They all saw you smile, and what a pretty smile you have, and a truly disarming one at that! Not a single one left your side and hardly any came close to learning what is beneath the serenity you have recovered is this millennium. It was because of these Faithful Students, the private pupils that rose above all the others in the academy you founded, that you were only alone if you stopped to think.
It doesn't matter if the room is crowded or empty, a single stray thought or pause in your performance and you will realize just how alone you feel. You would know exactly why you do not tell anypony if you hadn't denied anything was wrong and sealed away even the mere acknowledgment of your problem.
You have even forgotten what's wrong haven't you? Luna's return is not a guarantee that your behavior will get better, but it is only with your careful and dedicated management that it has improved at all. Surely, you at least know what this problem involves? This isn't a borderline occurrence any more.
You aren't healthy. You may have defeated many tyrants in an age that has since passed but you are the tyrant of your own mind. You still numb your heart to what has been going on and still you haven't realized that you are the greatest villain that there is.
Tirek stole the magic, but you cripple your own now, when millions of ponies depend on you. Discord overthrew the first nation of Equestria set up by the newly unified tribes but he never wounded anypony as deeply as you wound yourself.
Only the Crystal Empire's overthrown king is worse than you for he has spilled blood wantonly.
You still think of life in two absolutes even if you have lessened the strict observance of your morals.
You continue to betray yourself and those you suffer for it. Your kindness, a trait that earned you an Element of Harmony, despite how unreliable yours can be. Your subjects adore their image of an altruistic and peaceful ruler, but you are only the reflection in the mirror.
You're the only thing you have ever run from. Why can't you face yourself? Why seal yourself away? I'm only you.
You listen so much to everypony, but seem quite deaf yourself even though you have to know I'm here to push yourself away. If you keep this up will there be any thing left? Why do you ask questions if you stopped seeking answers?
Are you lying again? When will you tell the truth? When will you tell anypony?
You're so sure that you're perfectly fine and that you'll never have another outburst or fight with Luna again like you did a millennium ago.
You've waited and waited and waited, smiling all the while and even though you've tried you have only tried to cover up the problem until there's only your own denial left.
I'm you. I'm the things you'll never know, you'll never say and you'll never realize that you feel. Or, to put it correctly, I used to be you. I was a piece of the puzzle that when correctly built formed you, Celestia. Currently, I am but a buried and broken aspect of you. The small pauses you make in the halls when you catch yourself with a thought that doesn't feel like you, or at least not the you that Celestia wants to be. Now I'm only that, your illusion, your denial, a simple little voice that sprung from the divide you lay within yourself.
You are not a victor; you haven't escaped anything.
It's only missed opportunity to get better, but I think that after all these years you've made it quite clear that none of that matters to you.
So go ahead. Teach more Faithful Students, appreciate the happiness that comes from learning the true nature of your Elements only after Luna was gone and know that I can only get you when you're awake like this. If you want happiness to last this is a botched job.
Break your promises. Avoid honesty. Be as kind to everypony who lives under the rule of Luna and yourself while trying to hold onto your mask for that much longer, just don't forget how cruel this is to yourself. Tell everypony how happy you are and maybe it'll be true when they leave you to pursue their own lives. Go on feeling empty when they grow up and you still refuse to tell a single soul about any of this. You still think there is nothing wrong. You don't know why you can feel so empty at times because you don't want to.
"It's all in my head" has gotten you this far. Ignoring it has gotten you this far. It's also made everything worse.
Just go on distracting yourself since now all this light is only meant to blind yourself and others from the darkness within you.
Ambiguity [One Shot] [Scrapped]
Author's Notes:
This story is a one shot detailing the existence of a character from Tomb of Magic, so reading that would help understand this story here.
Ambiguity
Adventure|Everyone
Runa is a rather unusual spell, a spell that came to life. Its purpose is to aide its Creator - the pony powerful enough to cast such magic - in any way possible. In the aftermath of Tomb of Magic Runa is left alone not knowing what has happened, with only the desire to find whoever created it. But of find this pony Runa must make it it through the snow, if fate will allow it.
-Wikipedia
(This is one reason why I don't write AIs, also please point out any errors in the comments.)
Also, a short list of all of Runa's known special abilities and a few other things:
-cannot feel emotion and only vaguely understands what it is
-only speaks in monotone
-never uses contractions
-uses the runes around it to cast spells
-doesn't need to breathe
-can withstand pressure (go underwater, being buried under snow)
-this thing would not be affected by gravity like a pony would
-has no soul <------best description
-can be destroyed/not indestructible
-was not meant to take on a shape that mimics life but does so because of a 'command' Luna added-looks female but has no gender, hence the lack of proper pronouns
-refers to self in third person
-outdated speech due to being from a different time period
-can mimic (and possibly record) sounds
-in terms of where Runa would fit into a society, Runa is classified as an object (so, like, a spork)Contains multiple references to this one here, although reading it is optional.
Failure.
All the one known as RUNA has experienced is up to this point is failure. RUNA is flawed for in the heat of battle it malfunctions and is flung into the trees.
Zap. Poof.
So many trees. RUNA has slumbered in this trees before when all the world was a dream and eyes were but a far-off fantasy as RUNA was bound to a tree whose roots stretched far beneath the broken soil and drinking up fragments of snow.
All RUNA sees are trees pointing high above to clouds that are almost unreachable.
Zap. Poof.
RUNA tries to stand but falls among the shards of blue surrounding, standing out amongst the snow like fragments of a shattered sky.
Flicker. RUNA blinks unwillingly and the world goes dark in a place as distinguishable as a dream as a carrot is from a star.
Flicker.
Bright light shines softly across the woods and into RUNA's eyes.
Flicker. Blink.
Soundlessly RUNA arises and stares at the darkened sky glittering with thousands of small light rippling across the vast expanse, and it knew that it had been left behind by the one it called the Awakener.
RUNA trudges through the snow, magic coursing through a body lacking everything else.
RUNA poked around the ruins of battle - the Spire as it was once called - eyes gleaming and constantly flickering all coming up with the same results: NO ORGANIC LIFE DETECTED.
Its bestowed magics had turned up nothing. RUNA's mission had failed.
It hadn't protected anything. Now RUNA was lost and alone.
A cold wind swept by stirring a few glistening swirls of snow, but it wasn't as if it could be felt. There were no living ponies here, no one to feel its effect.
RUNA's legs buckled and she plopped down into a debris-ridden snowdrift, face devoid of any kind of expression. Its shutter-like eyes even blanker than normal as if it might have vaguely been able to comprehend any sort of emotion beside the bleak oblivion within it, a side effect of not having a soul.
The wind died and the silence was resumed, RUNA's ear pricking.
"This land has no sound," it remarked blankly. "Creator liked sounds."
Once more RUNA's eyes flickered and it sank deep into some half-forgotten incident of the Tree Time when the Voice of The Creator spoke such a thing in a tone that made Her seem so far away...
Without warning RUNA sprang up with an abrupt pop like some kind of mechanized toy. Its blue glow the only true light among the darkness and crystalline reflections of snow. It opened its mouth as wide as any dragon could and like a gramophone and from the echo of a memory poured out, a noise from the Tree Time when all but bark and roots were meaningless.
The sound of wolves.
After a while she buckled down once more and sat in the snowy ditch. Waiting for a Creator who would never come.
Flicker. Flicker-close.
The sun began to rise, all its warmth shed in vain.
The sun had long since sunk below the horizon and the stars leapt out when RUNA was active again, shining a bit more brightly than before, the snow like beads of sapphire.
It stiffly walked amongst the desolation before it then whirled around in a motion that seemed to fluid for such a thing and walked away heading in a direction unfamiliar to it before stopping quietly.
RUNA feared it would be heard. Then everything would be ruined.
"Creator?" It called, almost sounding unsure behind the monotone.
"Creator!"
Even the wind refused to cause even a leaf to quiver, had there been any.
"CREATOR!"
Creator wasn't hiding. At least not here. That much was clear.
A construct without their Creator is as empty as a stomach in famine; but RUNA almost believed that it felt something more.
Alone, alone, it was all alone. A single bit of fallen sky amongst what appeared to be infinite white.
RUNA must find Creator. That was the nothing going through its simple head, if anything could.
RUNA stood for a long time just watching its shadow grow and shrink. It knew neither Sun nor Moon, only skyorbs.
And skyorbs would guide RUNA.
It sank into the snow for the last time and began to form what it thought the perfect plan, however incomplete it was.
RUNA watched as the white orb rose. Today was the day it would leave the crater, the wolves no longer here, and the trees.
Everything it knew would be gone as soon as the mountains in the distance were crossed.
But there were no emotions to tie it here.
There was nothing at all.
RUNA stepped forward. Its first step on a most important journey, perhaps even an epic odyssey which was a concept unknown to this being to whom the world appeared blank.
It seems proper balance was also an unknown concept as RUNA's first step forward-which appeared as uniform as a soldier's-landed it flat on its face into a pile of unmoved snow that had fallen last night.
This revealed a book. RUNA levitated the volume to meet its eyes, trying to comprehend the object scorched to almost nothing from a recent magic blast.
A lone piece of parchment fell loose and stuck in the snow, half in and half out of the impression made by this bumbler.
RUNA tossed the burned book away and exchanged it for the latter.
Flicker.
'LIST OF SUPPLIES'
Flicker.
'PROPERTY OF ONYX'
Flicker.
'LIST-FOOD-COMPASS TO HEAD SOUTHEAST'
Flicker.
'KNIVES-CLOAK-HATCHET'
Flicker.
'-EXTRA KNIVES-CLOAK'
Flicker.
'BACKUP KNIVES.'
RUNA didn't find much of anything on that list enlightening at all. That's probably why it burned the list to ash with a sudden spark of luminous blue flame conjured by the runes that were a constant presence.
Then it looked around and picked the direction it believed to be southeast and headed that way not a question in its mind.
It was really Regular-Old-East but it's not like that can be changed. Just allow the construct some false pride in its navigation skills.
RUNA had acquired a quest, and that quest was to find the Creator.
The second step taken was much more successful, it immediately caused a blue glass like staircase to form to lead RUNA over the towering mountains. When RUNA came to the end of the structure it leapt of and flew into the unknown, which is rather cold.
RUNA had crossed the peak of the mountains and was no longer in the static valley it originated from. There was only hard gusts of biting ice and endless snow to those who knew no better on this side where the question that gnawed at those who had the time or the foolishness to stop and think was whether the cold or the snow itself was the worst thing a pony could face.
For RUNA it was the snow, it was so fierce as it worked its way down that it caused RUNA to flash briefly, as if damaged.
Its eyes flickered with some sort of primal nervousness that every creature touched by even the smallest bit of magic probably experienced at some point or another.
There right off to the side, it spotted a cave. RUNA heads inside her luminous blue glow casting crooked shadows on the cold stone.
It spots marks over the corner, worn into the stone. Old hoofmarks.
1,114 year old hoofmarks that have almost entirely vanished over the course of time.
RUNA sits quietly and waits. Maybe somewhere-out-there Creator may also be found.
Waiting.
Waiting in the dark.
Sun broke through the snow after some time, yet RUNA remained unflinching and silent like the stone surrounding it.
Those two ponies. RUNA was meant to protect them, ordered to.
Where are they? Did they die?
It received no answer and left just as quietly as it entered, although perhaps for a different reason.
The snow was not falling as much anymore so RUNA decided to fly, to its Creator who just might be in need of a rather persistent blue construct.
RUNA was growing dimmer as the flight continued, though this went unnoticed by it.
Who knew what time meant to RUNA? It flew on and on until at some point RUNA fell out of the sky, spiraling downward into the sunbathed snow which glistened white gold. It looked even more faded then when RUNA took off.
RUNA opened her mouth once and then closed it as if to speak but only a bit of snow fell in.
It tasted funny.
It sat in the snow splayed out in a perfect mid-flight shape just like how RUNA had fallen, completely drained and helplessly watching the sun sink turning the sky from red to dark blue. RUNA's eyes glowed as silver as the stars and slowly blue seeped back into her and RUNA began to look more solid.
At some point RUNA closed its eyes and slumbered in the snow in an empty state still trying not to fade completely...
Head southeast, head southeast, head southeast...
In a way that was all RUNA knew...even if it was wrong.
RUNA awoke to three-and-ten feet of freshly fallen on its head, which it melted with its horn in order to escape, emerging with its bright blue glow restored, expressionless and unbreathing as normal, a few fiery blue runes bobbing in distress.
Creator is still waiting. To RUNA that was all that mattered even though it technically not even know the identity of 'Creator'. Was Creator a mare of a stallion? Was Creator young or old? Was RUNA formed in their image? What was their name?
It never occurred to RUNA that Creator could be dead. As the only things RUNA knew of Creator was their voice - it sounded like a mare's but RUNA could not be sure - and how their magic felt.
RUNA stood in the moonlight, as still as can be not noticing that it made RUNA glow brighter.
Maybe Creator can bestow a new name...
Over the next few days RUNA trudged on growing dimmer every sunrise then brighter when it set yet was unsure of how much progress it really made or how much time passed.
RUNA just kept going its hoofsteps vanishing just as quickly as they appeared, consumed by the snow that landed on its bridge.
For a many more weeks all RUNA did was walk but only in the dark where its eyes lit up the snow. It didn't recall anything but keep moving forward, emptier then usual on the inside.
For now.
There are many things buried under the snow. Things change over time, including the land. RUNA locates a basin at some point, a basin located a large slice in the land.
RUNA's senses are abuzz with something it does not understand.
It comes from beneath RUNA's hooves, a shrill hum only it can hear.
Eventually RUNA digs up the snow, layer after layer until it finds what it sought.
Below it all are tainted ashes humming with old traces of a burning power which is a clear indication of magic.
A bizarre magic, that feels vaguely familiar.
Yet crackling in the air are things just as old as the ashes and as new as the top layer of the snow RUNA broke through.
RUNA cannot name it but it is impossible for a construct such as itself not to sense the troubling energy among the ashes of wood that was.
A Shadow's wrath still lingers even after all these years.
RUNA continued to travel for many nights (and even a few days) in search of the one who created it. The Night Orb, whose true name was unknown to this peculiar traveler bestowed power to RUNA, as being in the tree so long had damaged some of its ability to properly sustain itself.
RUNA couldn't experience fatigue but each day it constructed a barrier around itself as not to lose any power that was gained. Through this creation the whole world was tinted blue and only stars gave any indication that it was night.
Being left alone for so long often made anypony a philosopher and even though it wasn't a pony RUNA couldn't help but do some thinking, mostly about the moon and wondering if it was the sought after one known only as Creator, after all it gave RUNA power, just like Creator.
Could they be the same? RUNA has never heard the Night Orb talk and am unsure if it can.
The silver beams of light marking where RUNA's gaze lands find the earth split beneath its snowy skin revealing the stone flesh, and scattered across it a few brave evergreens huddling against the wind and cradling the tossed snowflakes. None of this is visible to the normal eyes of ponies, as this grove is barely a blur on the horizon.
In time RUNA catches up with this spot until another sight replaces is as That Which is Off In The Distance. RUNA approaches its edge and peers in. Nothing is there so it lifts its gaze and teleports to the other side without even a blink, after all it was the more efficient option and RUNA was 'fond' of efficiency.
The grove contained almost nothing suspicious. Just trees that move in ways it cannot and faint hums of the strange magic that were almost as old as the construct.
More moonlight.
More walking.
RUNA builds continues a road to lead the way to the mysterious Creator, unaware of the monotonous routine of Her creation.
After RUNA left the grove a snowstorm swept it away, as if RUNA were as easy for the wind to carry as a snowflake. So from here on RUNA builds the road of what looks like vibrant blue glass and hopes in the mute and invisible way of such creations that it will lead to what RUNA desires most in the world of blue and white.
It is all the color RUNA knows.
Creator, where are you?
Everywhere there is snow, ice, rock, and sky although the rocks were not as prevalent now that the more mountainous terrain had been left behind, but it was only now that RUNA began to sense the decreasing elevation.
Despite the change in landscape RUNA did not know how long it had traveled or how long it would have to.
Was RUNA left behind on purpose?
RUNA came to a halt and stared at the snow that was forever falling.
Did Creator forsake RUNA like RUNA did those two ponies...? Was that why the one who awakened RUNA was not the one who created RUNA?
Was RUNA useless? Did they forget about RUNA?
RUNA continued to stand still as if expecting answers to fall from the sky like countless snowflakes.
Is Creator dead?
No...it cannot be...
RUNA's road crumbles beneath its hooves, all its miles and bridges covering every peak and valley.
RUNA has to keep going, and so a new road is built and RUNA continues to walk towards the horizon never saying a single word as it follows the moonlight.
It is now that the road of glass connects to something unknown, clouds gathering over it. The sun is no longer out so RUNA stops to gaze at a blue-hued expanse as seemingly infinite as the snow.
Blue is good.
The white land is gone with its small snow-round-mountains and hills.
There are small gray pieces everywhere accompanied by finer ones on the border of this strange and fluid land.
Who killed the mountains? Was it not their life-beat RUNA felt traversing this place?
'Blue', as RUNA had begun to think of this new landscape, 'roars' and burst forward its edges becoming a soft looking and white as it stirs the small gray stones beneath RUNA's hooves.
RUNA gasps and jumps at this. Blue recedes at this returning some of the stones it took.
"Stop. Do not go. RUNA is a friend."
Blue comes back.
"What are you?" RUNA asks it.
Blue shift and gathers itself, pointing upward and reaching for the floating masses of snow that drift far above them both.
Blue is a sky then. That much to is clear to RUNA. No, Blue is not a normal sky. The opaque look, the color, the attraction toward the true sky...Blue is a construct! Yes, that must be it.
But why is Blue alone? RUNA sees no stars or snow in its sky. Did Blue's Creator forget about them? But who was so mad they left Blue behind?
Maybe it was not a who but a what that created Blue?, RUNA thought, Perhaps it was the land? Can land do magic?
RUNA supposes land does need its own sky but why does it move so?
"Blue were you left behind too?"
Blue wells up and licks RUNA, this time spitting light, broken snow instead of stealing stones.
RUNA fall back on its haunches.
Blue recedes to make space for RUNA as it gazes at the white forming across Blue's surface just like the floating snow in the other sky, the one that isn't a construct, which grows brighter as the sun rises.
RUNA must continue the journey. Though RUNA does not believe it is to go over Blue-sky. It seems darker there so it must be night and it is the right direction after all.
It is time to go, to head southeast. RUNA wades into the gray-blue ocean, but jumps back, startled for a moment, although not by the cold that any living creature would feel.
RUNA tries to soak up as much moonlight as it can, unsure if it will find another moon for a while.
It then counts out as many of the the stars as it can before dawn comes, having memorized each one on its travels for navigation assistance.
Only then does it wade into the ocean, heading deeper into this 'second sky'.
Blue tugs in a way that is not the one RUNA has been taking, instead curling a different direction.
Oh, RUNA understands. First RUNA had to head east, and this must be south. So now RUNA will head south. That is how ponies get a 'southeast'.
It is where RUNA will wait for Creator.
Millennium Tokens [One Shot] [Fluff] [Discord/Celestia] [Rarity/Twilight]
Author's Notes:
Part of a collection of one shots that was moved here to the ol' scrap folder/anthology.
Millennium Tokens
Everyone|Romance|Comedy
Twilight investigates the mystery of something Princess Celestia calls 'millennium tokens'.
Millennium tokens was not something that Twilight Sparkle could find in a dictionary or any other reference book. It wasn't something anypony on the streets of any city in Equestria would know.
It was during one of her lunches with Princess Celestia in Canterlot that she heard the term. The princess had been having a cup of tea - a new flavor, if Twilight recalled correctly - and Twilight had been having a daisy sandwich without those little fried tomatoes that she liked because Rarity said that they would ruin her figure and Twilight wasn't about to argue with her marefriend about sandwiches.
While Twilight had been mulling over how to make her remarkably plain sandwich more appetizing without having to spend extra she realized that while she had been trying to rationalize countless decisions in order to make the perfect sandwich, Celestia had been talking about something that might have been important.
"Sorry, Prin-Celestia, could you repeat that?" Twilight had said, offering a sheepish smile and privately wondering if blaming the sandwich and Rarity's passive-aggressively imposed diet would get her out of this pickle.
Within her mind, Twilight praised herself. Pickles! How had she not thought of that? Those were way better than fried tomatoes and...
...according the menu wasn't available.
Celestia laughed slightly. "Are you sure that I should be the one repeating myself? I'm quite interested in what that sandwich was telling you."
Twilight's sheepishness intensified. "Uhh... well... it wasn't anything important or anything, this one uhh... just wanted to know the weather...?"
Twilight flashed her best smile, completely unaware that her jokes were terrible enough to be considered dangerous to the mental health of young children and that she had a very noticeable daisy petal caught between her teeth.
Celestia did end up repeating herself, and Twilight listened curiously. What was this 'millennium token' Discord had given the princess? She kept mentioning it by that name through the rest of their meal, never hinting at what it could be.
This is why Twilight had dragged - well not literally, she had to persuade Rarity to halt her latest project while she had been in a creative mood so she could come to Canterlot to help Twilight figure out the truth of the 'tokens', which meant her and Rarity could not stop to take in the 'chic atmosphere' of that new cafe that had opened right on one of the main boulevards of Canterlot.
Only then did they managed to reach the castle, where Twilight sought Princess Celestia's answer. What were 'millennium tokens' that Celestia had mentioned? She spoke about them almost casually, but there was nothing written about them anywhere! No archive or library held anything about the important-sounding mystery. Were these tokens some kind of magic artifact? That's where Twilight's thoughts had been straying in the case where she might be needed to study them or even use them to stop another enemy of Equestria.
At the same time, Twilight tried to listen to Rarity's concerns regarding her spring line, which was also important to the alicorn.
Rarity and her made their way through the halls of the castle which were warm and lit by the late morning sun. Their hooves made no little on the plush and brightly colored carpet of the high-ceilinged corridor.
A sudden sound caught Twilight's attention, causing her to halt. "Rarity! What was that?"
"Twilight, darling, are you so lost in your thoughts that you've forgotten the sound of Princess Celestia's voice?"
Twilight blinked, jaw agape at Rarity. "I what? Oh my goodness, we must be going down the wrong hall too..."
"We are."
Twilight sighed and backtracked according to Rarity's direction so they could find the source of Celestia's voice. The goddess' pleasant, almost motherly laughter could be heard echoing through the spacious halls of the castle and soon the two mares came to the threshold that gave them a full view of the scene playing out before them.
Standing in a hall with her near-silent secretary, Raven, was Princess Celestia. Her multi-colored mane flowed in the sunlight that she had brought forth at dawn, and she smiled kindly upon a bouquet of flowers unlike Twilight had ever seen.
Each part from petal to stem was a college of different flowers that both Twilight and Rarity knew to grow in Equestria, only they had been picked apart and mushed together somehow, and there wasn't a doubt in her mind about who could have given such an unusually exotic bouquet to her former mentor.
"Discord," Twilight whispered.
Rarity had not heard what Twilight had said, and was instead thinking of how she might be able to work some of those blooms into a floral trim for the upcoming line Twilight had pulled her away from, after all everything was still in the drafting stage and sketching the placement of a few trims here and there wouldn't be a problem.
"So that's what a millennium token is," Twilight concluded, "a token of affection."
"Mm-hm," Rarity chirped next to her, red spectacles still balanced on her muzzle.
"This... well it's certainly not what I expected." Twilight said, watching as the princess tucked a flower behind her ear.
"You do realize what this means, don't you Twilight?"
"We accidentally wasted time on something silly?"
"You must give me a millennium's worth of these tokens, starting today."
"But Rarity, you're not even going to live for a millennium!"
"You can at least try, dear."
"How? How in Equestria am I supposed to buy you one thousand year's worth of gifts when you won't make it past three centuries at most! Gah, this doesn't make any sense!"
"Well I certainly won't be living that long with your negative attitude."
"Twilight! Rarity!" Princess Celestia called, "How good to see you both, would you care to stay for tea?"
Millennium tokens
are but little gifts
to build a bridge
to cross time spent apart.
Everything Begins [Poetry] [Discord/Celestia]
Author's Notes:
More Discord/Celestia shorts from a collection, now moved here! This time, it's poetry! Hooray poetry!
Everything Begins
Teen|Drama|Romance
There's more meaning in flowers than one might think...
Both could agree—
that for at least one thousand years of parallel eternity,
each had been frozen in place.
Her with a smile upon her face
and a name removed without a trace.
He felt the paralyzing cage of stone,
which had changed his flesh and corrupted his bone.
The princess who let her crown speak for her
and the being who could no longer feel the wind stir.
They had been friends in another time, and for her what felt like another life,
where her mind had yet to go under her own knife.
Parted and driven apart like nothing one day,
he felt like he needed to be dust in the wind, taste a freedom that wouldn't allow him to stay.
Inside the filly who had already lost so much, her heart crashed and burned,
but she hid it all behind the perfect smile she had learned.
He traveled the world doing whatever he wanted
while the sun traveled north, seeking the land where she remained haunted.
For many years they only diverged with the aid of the distance between them,
his name she did condemn.
He who wandered to the south, became a famed menace through word of mouth.
She to the bitter north brought so many bottled emotions forth—
a roaring fire she became, warming those far away and burning those closest to her
locking her in a tragic dance with her own shadow—
the bright blue creature having no more sisterhood to bestow.
And there was silence.
To the land south, she guides ponies to a land free of shrouds of snow, her royal birthright she seeks to reclaim,
and he who travels north seeks entertainment brought by anarchy and fame.
Face to face after so long the tyrant meets the puppet master,
with her stringed shadow and his lost friendship they forge their own disaster,
their own names but insults on the other's tongue
gone and forgotten are the days when they were young.
After their first spat, the tyrant thirsting for her taken kingdom drags her shadow away with threats of return,
carefree and mad, the usurper finds the two goddesses to be no concern.
With ancient gems that aren't what they seem,
the dying sisterhood unites temporarily to bring back the elder's regime.
Their former friend, their Elements petrify
as if anymore were needed to make their bond die.
Fifty years later and it's one thousand years ago,
did the truly lone Sun have tears that did overflow,
and while she realized that none but her were to blame, part of her refused to acknowledge that in her mind of absolutes she may have been the villain all along.
She tries to learn of her sister's plight,
with a daring and dangerous flight
to scream tabula rasa at the skies, crying for her hollow-feeling heart and mechanical mind to be made truly blank,
to forget grief and feeling, to be the perfect princess and rule on, for this destruction of herself she would not see herself as the tyrant a moment longer, a vile monster withing, disgusting and rank.
Century after century she rules alone smiling almost all day, as if neat and clock-work driven,
until one day she confronts a forgotten statue and asks if she can be forgiven,
she cannot hear his words as he hears hers, and only wants her to accept his entropy and give in.
A miscommunication and half forgiveness with a plea to change his ways
and a few decades later her Faithful Student and nation of Equestria he tried to raze.
She couldn't bear to witness what felt like only a tyrant's crime,
and so he found his seal to be broken in such short time
and there the princess waited to see if he'd adopt the trend,
waiting and waiting in her castle only to hear the confirmation that he had made a friend.
From there they try to build the friendship that was lost
only for her to be hurt once more as Equestria's flag —from his mismatched claw—was tossed
so he could follow a different tyrant
and even though the situation seemed so dour
she found herself forgiving him again—this time for a flower
that was a leap from friendship, a silent shove
and her nod a confirmation of mutual love.
Past Skies [Minific] [Discord/Celestia] [Friendshipping]
Author's Notes:
A minific about young Discord and Celestia from an older one shot collection, which was moved here.
Past Skies
Everyone|Drama
Celestia hummed as she daintily plucked the stems of flowers, which she planned to weave into her flowing pink mane after she untangled a few pesky knots that one gets when living in a state of constant adventure where little princesses could not stop to brush their manes to shining perfection as they always wished.
However, there was always a flower or two where one knew a patch of sunshine could be found. So it was there that she spent time alone - when she bothered to serperate herself from her sister and best friend at all - picking flowers in the vast meadow the three had stopped at, barely north of the desert. She had no crown to wear, which she pined for along with other small luxuries of her princesshood - fluffy pillows and well-cooked food, for example. Things like clean floors and orderly gardens with the most brilliant of flowers, so she wouldn't have to settle for anything.
She always dreamed of places like that, where glass would separate her from the storms of the world and ponies would smile at her. Celestia the markless no longer wished to be marked with dirt each time she slept and have to scrub herself in a stream each morning. If there was one, that is.
She wanted - privately, and behind a pleasant smile or thoughtful glance at their only map - all the things that Luna hadn't cared for. The bright filly just wanted a light to guide her to a road in a world that didn't match up with the map she held, not always.
Something missing, it was always something missing. A hollow feeling with smile for a balm.
She made do in a world that had lit a jaded light within her, what was she living? It felt like she was at the end of a storybook with no conclusion at all, only to wake up at page one over and over again.
But she made do. For Luna.
She picked flowers and played pretend.
Princesses played pretend.
Princesses smiled.
She may not know what she's doing to herself, just that she must follow the map, go somewhere, and always look after Luna. Celestia must change, and this is what she would change into - a filly ripping out flowers in an empty meadow to make a futile effort in crafting a crown to reassure herself of something.
Something, and only that. There was no clue to what it was, only that it might be there.
Princesses don't yank flowers from their roots.
Princesses don't get dirty.
Princesses always smile.
Princesses don't break their own rules.
Princesses put others above themselves.
Princesses are graceful and will defend their kingdoms.
Princesses have a kingdom to defend.
Princesses do not ask questions, they give answers.
Princesses tell themselves the rules over and over again.
Princesses follow those rules.
And there was a whole host of them, all almost parable-like commandments she would assert about things like manners to help remind Luna that mud was very yucky, or how she had to always stay six steps of Celestia when it was dark - mostly for the latter's sake. The elder believed every one of them in some way.
Luna didn't listen much, but not out of spite. Luna simply wasn't afraid.
Of something.
Luna wasn't the one who stood in meadows with their legs covered in dirt because she hurt flowers on purpose.
Except, they weren't much of flowers anymore, as two magenta eyes could plainly see.
Dozens of butterflies, of all colors and sizes soaring into the cloudless sky and back again so the cascading wave of pink mane was like a nest hosting many birds.
From a short distance across a bed, now flower-less, Celestia could see the wave of a paw. It was not Luna, who either snuck up on her or bounded over calling 'Tia!' with an honest grin. Luna did not have a snaggle-toothed grin.
Celestia smiled only a little bit wider - after all, she was still a princess - but at least this time she knew it was real.
If only for a moment.
Plain Vanilla [One Shot] [Celestia/OC]
Author's Notes:
Just a short story about Princess Celestia during her solo reign and one of the suitors/partners she has had (first mentioned in Begin Again, but you don't have to read that to understand this story).
Plain Vanilla
Everyone|Romance|Slice of Life
A stallion attending the Grand Galloping Gala finds himself talking to Princess Celestia.
Vanilla Bean was a simple stallion. He wasn't somepony you would ever notice in a crowd, with his pale blue coat that seemed washed out and faded instead of just light in hue. His unusual - though only vaguely so - white mane and tail with brown stripes that was neither curly, wavy, straight or anything distinct was too simply styled to be noticeable.
The gala around him - his very first - was bustling with ponies of all kinds; mares in elaborate gowns and stallions in fine suits surrounded him.
As for him?
He had lost a bet - it was how a simple ice cream merchant like him had been able to attend such an event - to his dearest sister, Chocolate Pie... who really wasn't as sweet as her name suggested when she could get him into this kind of situation...
It had been her choice after all, to have them both buy an opportunity - tickets of paper with numbers scrawled on them in dull, sterile looking print all meant to add up to one possibility - a fleeting chance at something grand and far away - the Grand Galloping Gala. Somehow, he had been the one to get that ticket.
But that also meant that he had to wear whatever Chocolate wanted him to. And so here he was... at the Grand Galloping Gala in nothing but a bow tie and mask that matched this years theme - that of a masquerade. He silently thanked himself for being too plain to draw any attention, despite the scandalous nature of his attire... which was scandalous by Gala terms, at least.
Or maybe it was only a matter of time before somepony noticed him and gossip ran wild. He gulped nervously at the possibility and drifted away from the nearest table, as it was cluttered with foodstuffs too irresistible for the gala-goers to resist. That would certainly be a bad stop if he was trying to go unnoticed. Usually, he was as sociable as a pony could be - the wide circle of friends and acquaintances that usually accompanied him was currently replaced by the lack of any company at all on what would either be the best or the worst night of his life.
He adjusted his mask - it was pale green, and just light enough to help him blend in with the bright colors of all the other suits, gowns, and masks but not so bright that it stood out, which was a relief. The lack of any sequins of glimmering threads woven in anything but simple patterns was no doubt in his favor too.
As he hurried away, his gaze dropped to the floor so he might avoid staring at anypony - not that they would recognize him - and to avoid being distracted by the two feathers adorning his mask that bobbed on the edge of his view. If he kept this up, it really would be the perfect disguise! Even if he likely wouldn't talk to anypony - it was embarrassing to think that the only Gala he might attend would be one on a bet of sorts.
With his eyes to the floor, he did not see the shape walking toward him - and if she saw him coming, she never said, but the next thing he knew was that he was walking straight into-
-none other than Celestia, goddess of the sun and moon, and Alicorn Princess of Equestria...
She smiled at him. It was a surprised, modest smile that somehow managed to fit on the regal face of the great goddess. He gulped and tried not to let his gaze linger out of politeness. She didn't wear any gown - which was surely going to be the talk of all of Equestria by the Gala's end - as if that could somehow cause her to blend in more. Only a plain mask covered her face, like a thin frame to her warm magenta eyes.
She was too obvious. Too noticeable. How hadn't somepony noticed her walking in plain sight? How hadn't he?!
...And why was she still looking at him?
"Good evening, my little pony. I trust that you are enjoying the celebration?"
Vanilla nodded dumbly. Was he still staring? He wasn't sure, his mind felt blank. Was part of her power numbing ponies like this, so they could do nothing but look at her in awe? To Vanilla it certainly felt like that. Here was the mare who raised and lowered both the sun and the moon standing before him...
"What is your name?"
...and she just asked him his name!
Vanilla flushed under his mask. So much for going unnoticed. "Vanilla Bean," he managed.
"And what is it that brings you to the Gala?" Princess Celestia asked warmly.
Vanilla blinked. She, the princess of all the realm - currently without a bit of finery on her - wanted to talk to him? He knew the princess was social, none doubted that she loved all her subjects but...
"A bet," he blurted. "I'm here because of a bet. Not that I'm not enjoying anything, Your Majesty, but you see-"
"Would you like to talk some more in the gardens? It is a little crowded in here, isn't it?"
He nodded again. It would be best just to listen to her. She was the princess after all, and one did not doubt the princess. Besides, how bad could it be talking to such a kind, pretty mare like Princess Celestia?
He nodded a final time, stronger, but not in a particularly assertive way. "Yes. Yes, Princess. I'd like that a lot."
She smiled at him. Again. "Well, I'm glad you are so willing to join me."
When she turned to go, he followed without question. This really didn't seem so bad at all...
Click [Sombra/Luna] [Bonus Material]
Author's Notes:
This was an unfinished one shot/Spare Him His Life sequel that I was working on around the time of my birthday (so about four months ago as of the date this was posted) as a present to myself. It was planned to be about 6k, but some stuff arose. I'd love to finish it sometime, but new stories arose and I had to work on Favorable Alignment a lot. In fact, this was meant to tell the story of Sombra's banishment that is shared in chapter thirty of FA, but using different words and all that fun stuff. So, same story, but different-ish scenes and whatever. However, I really liked the way it was told in FA and since the flashbacks there can work pretty well outside of the main story, I shall have them posted here along with the bit I typed on my iPod (oh no, mobile writing).
Click
Teen|Dark||Romance|Drama
Banishment by the power of the two sisters was supposed to be an agonizing experience. No ordinary mortal mind should have lingered on as the years passed. Anypony should have succumbed to the extraphysical nature of the kind of prison Sombra found himself in and found themselves reduced to pure instinct.
Sombra was no ordinary mortal, and he had all time he would need to plan revenge.
This portion was typed on a mobile device. It might be a bit wonky.
Click; a resounding sound. Faint and deceptive to those whose ears listen too hard or not at all.
Brief and dull to those creatures who pound the ground as they walk but ignore the world's whispers of the coming silence before the players move once more across their vast stage, murmuring their dialogues so such a small echo goes unnoticed, despite the weight it carries.
Click - the sound of something momentous, and often forgotten. The equestrian tongues call it 'eureka' when they have but a shadow of these while immortal ears prick up in hopes of catching a fleeting hint of what is to come, provided they can hope to decipher the fragment.
There was no drastic variation to what was in this moment, it was the actions of those who brought about such events and the aftermaths that they forged that set new things in motion. Few had this occur in their life, for while they could acknowledge themselves as heroes in their own modest stories, the truth was they were far from even that, being bystanders at most, for their paths were plain as they were. Yet there were those pony, god, or something else entirely who called the shots and obeyed no worldly script but saw fit to unravel whatever puppet strings that those who only appeared to be their peers held onto in hope of being guided to endings they gave little thought to, for they did not defy and their dreams were not made into something greater. They would not last, they would cease to transcend if they tried at all.
Each and every one of them would fail and continue to work out their small dreams and uncomplicated lives to which there was no remedy, until one day Fate's usually absent strings snagged them upward with a necklace of rope, and it would be there some amiable -seeming Reaper would collect them like flowers.
But they wayward burned and thrashed, refusing to cease even when they lacked any common restraints that would be the accepted burden to their placid kin.
Those who fought nothing, gained nothing and those who sought nothing, learned nothing. Those who dreamed forever created nothing and those who toiled forever duel wielding unnecessary humility alongside some other tool in hopes of creating something to represent themselves often never looked to see what they were, beyond the coat of a pony or feathers of a griffin.
Sombra was none of the above. He was neither bound by common order or a pony. He was the most wayward of all mortals.
And now he resided in what could have been nothing.
'Could have been' if he ignored the ever-present: everything, which had sprung from him in the first moments of what would be one thousand years as he sensed the cold that no ordinary mortal could hope to survive and that would even cause the gods to shiver, if they could in such a situation. Sombra's own presence would grow to fill this - or at least most of the - vast void that could rob almost every aspect of being and the mind from every sane soul that would face the same impossibly long stay that would no doubt last longer than any mortal life.
Luckily, Sombra was one who had never known sanity.
...
This was a place where Sombra would never feel snow beneath his bare hooves, for there was no snow to fall, no sky for it to fall from, and no ground for it to fall upon.
Sombra also noted that he had no hooves as well. His body was gone, woven into shadow that appeared to have all but dissolved into an outer darkness, which he was then sent; alone.
His body was gone for who knows how long, if there was a finite duration of time that one could be here.
With his body gone, only he remained.
And who was Sombra?
He had always been more, he was always better than what he was expected to be. Even in this otherworldly place that would not change.
Sombra was a demon unknown to all but one mortal soul - the soul of the child that had created him with a gamble, anger, and dark magic that had judged such a dim pony worthy of corruption.
The result of that corruption was Sombra himself, a defiant and reclusive sort who believed in the power of the mind and all the glorious insanity and genius that his had, something he had wanted to use in order to walk the world to find its farthest reaches, where no ponies plagued him with the misery their unwanted company brought.
Instead, the twisted desire of a crystal pony colt bent on unneeded vengeance and sadistic desire had held him hostage as the worst kind of weapon - one that could feel and see his own powers being abused and the blood that stained his hooves because of a lonely born-broken child who had never been properly dealt with, one whose impulsivity and utter stupidity was only countered by young Sombra's cold calculations and fierce intellect.
Those too, had been exploited by a twisted mind who wanted only to abuse power, ponies, and most of all Sombra himself - the demon he had unknowingly summoned and willingly stolen a name from.
And so begins the first year of the not-entirely-divided duo in the goddess-wrought void to house the two halves of the King.
...
The mobile portion ended here, so the next portion posted here will be excerpts from chapter thirty of Favorable Alignment.
There's a maddening dysphoria in no longer having a body or world to take shape in for all who lack more than one form. Sombra had always known what if felt like to dissolve into shadow.
It was better that way. The anger he felt now - a savage and all-consuming force that sharpened what senses still worked and etched every memory with the deadliest precision so nothing would be forgotten for a long while. Later, he would ensure that nothing would escape his memory even if he wanted it to.
But for now, rage shook a realm with no boundary.
He was alive, at least.
And alone - something that had always been a desire of his, an impossibility when the crown and another's dark wishes had dictated his life as much as the clinking of chains had governed the existence of crystal ponies.
Now all of those things were gone, something that he would appreciate in time when rage subsided and the silence after this storm tempered with his nature and his ambitions were softened for much needed self-examination.
There would be plenty of time for that.
In time, there would be plenty of time for anything for somepony like him who had known only limitations and bitterness.
That would wait a long while.
For one hundred years there would be nothing but the most brutal fury unleashed in a place where nothing could appear and time wore on in the darkness, and his mind traveled forward with it, a world he could no longer see continuing to be outside the void where only the cold of ice seeped in and chilled him. Something far colder than ice would try to seep into his very mind and break it. Instead, he broke this otherworldly chill, defying it as he had defied everything else he had ever known.
When the horror of his fiercest and longest bout of temper - an anger that then was indescribable and almost eldritch in it's near infinite intensity - was able to be shaped into something else, his mind snapped to the task.
From nothing but the magic he was left in this god-sealed prison made just for him he wielded both his genius and his rage until his ambition-driven magic had forged the only thing he would need to remember everything...
...
Out of everything to focus on, one face was clearer than anything else. It was the face of a blue-coated goddess.
She had beaten him and brought everything down with a single move. It was she he wanted nothing to do with - she was the younger one, the shadow of her sister.
The other princess.
Nothing she should do mattered.
And then she had done something that did.
He hated her for it and despised her with every fibre of his being. Luna - he would never forget the name of his greatest enemy - had somehow sneaked past his notice. How? He had seen her before him in their fight - she who always seemed to look away and never spoke.
She was weak. Unremarkable. Submissive. Stupid.
Utterly worthless.
This mare would never amount to anything and was a waste of the power she was born with. The mere thought of her ignited the feeling of fire through his mind.
She couldn't escape his focus any longer, after all, she was what had been overlooked so now she would become his focus. Everything else was just another card to gamble away - as dull and predictable as possible. It didn't matter what these factors and mortal identities did - they could be beaten and broken.
But she was different - a challenge disguised as a compliant immortal. He couldn't account for her actions, and to say that troubled him would be the second-greatest understatement in history.
Sombra - for now there was no title forced in front of his name that was now returned to him - would devote all mental energy not spent operating ethereal switches and functions to keep his memories of the past, present, and future intact on figuring out the perfect demise for Luna.
With enough time - which was near limitless here - he would be able to engineer the perfect torment for an immortal goddess and humiliate her with the burden of her own defeat. There would be nothing that could prevent him from this - nopony was present to challenge him, the time he would spend here was bound to exceed that of any mortal equine's life, and day and night cycle to hinder him.
The same burning intent that was almost identical to his hatred for the twisted crystal pony colt that had brought him into this world would only urge him onward.
So began the first hundred years of unrelenting anger that outlasted any mortal fire as the cold wore on.
As always, Sombra endured.
...
No matter how weak or capable one's enemies could be, Sombra treated each of his foes as just another face, for that was what they were until they made themselves stand apart as they acted upon the urge to make some futile attempt against him.
All attempts had been futile - until she made hers.
The world was his enemy, and Sombra had always known this. From the moment he had been created, the young demon knew that his nature alone - regardless of his deeds and too-different mind - would earn him foes that reached numbers few would bother to count.
Know your enemy. It was only then that moves could be made against them and the table they were so foolish to rest their hooves upon turned right under their muzzles. Then, every measure taken against them so nothing but hope remained within their grasp. That too, could break. He had seen it.
He had felt it.
Now here he was having to know an enemy that could be fought. With all the time to keep his mind intact and only improve himself in this situation. How could a goddess be so foolish to ensure her actions would risk something like this?
If there was one thing unknown to Sombra, it was the unattainable satisfaction of true revenge - a deprivation he despised so.
Yet, if they were to meet again he could exact all the revenge he wanted against this deathless, cowering goddess.
He told himself he would love that - and really, he would. Sombra would finally get a chance to hurt somepony that had thought she could get away with hurting him.
Luna was the most weak, unintelligent, compliant, submissive, and obnoxious creature that he had encountered, and he hated her.
But to create the best way to torment her in order to push her past the breaking point 'till nopony could repair her, Sombra had to know Luna. The only way to do that would be to examine every memory he had of her hundreds of times over and deconstructing every facet of her behavior to map out the way she thought so she could be outsmarted.
For one hundred years, Luna would be his insane obsession.
...
There were lifetimes of information for somepony like Sombra, whose hypervigilant mind examined the goddess-princess, former apprentice Selene, and shadow of the sun in all her forms.
She was a warrior, her skill in weaponry subdued and hidden to those who didn't scrutinize her every move before realizing one of them would be their last. Under her blue forelock her wide eyes that hid all the wonder she clung onto with a desperation to survive that seemed so savagely mortal and familiar in the latent desire to transcend her situation.
He observed a perception that could be caught in fleeting, sideways glances that appeared to predict just when those that surrounded her and falsely named her a peer would look away and catch only the smallest pieces of her unwavering, solemn gaze.
With that eye for detail that allowed her to notice the smallest things and hear a hundred words unsaid in every silence she could make her supposedly meek demeanor appear completely honest and without effort.
Her honesty was another thing that struck him as odd - how she protested, sometimes silently, how she could never seem to find it in her to tell the smallest fib at the risk of an unnatural silence.
She was unnatural - how had he missed such chilling skills of observation? Each hit in battle she landed was carefully calculated but equally furious in delivery.
Her power - in fragments he recalled the flurry of power that only a demon like him could sense and how it had clung to her, fitting her like a tailored cloak and matching her every movement and swirling with each bout of strong emotion that overtook her in their battle, invigorating her.
He had thought that the power that she had been born into and twisted and fostered into something so befitting of her nature was wasted, though she was by far the most powerful creature he had met.
That sense of power - and every ounce of hidden, measured strength - wasn't abused or squandered in order to exaggerate her nature and highlight her as goddess. For somepony who lacked the maliciousness and cruel cunning that Sombra had, she was remarkably good at accepting her feared power and dominating the magic that she radiated so her actions spoke.
This element that made her so unapproachable - this threatening, alien aspect of her - had piqued his interest. It would make her all the more interesting to fight, knowing she was more capable than she appeared. Sombra found this quality to her... addicting? No, that was not right. Luna - his enemy - had an odd allure to her and well-harnessed power with the intelligence to manage it? That feature alone was worth immense amounts of focus.
Sombra never thought to deny how magnetic it was - a proper rival had certainly be something he hadn't expected. Nor had he expected this horribly clever mare's looks to speak for her when she opted for silence upon re-evaluation.
There was something so obvious about the way she had looked at him in battle - those direct and vaguely bewildered looks in her wonderstruck eyes.
They had never met before. Though she lingered in many of Onyx's memories, Sombra had never given her much thought other than to acknowledge that she was one of the last Alicorns.
And she looked at him with an unmistakable recognition mixed with fear that haunted him. It was...
...heart-wrenching?
The void had stirred at this with Sombra's discontent over the choice. It wasn't a proper term to describe his enemy but it was what he thought fit best. Somepony sympathetic to Luna would find the looks she gave him - how troubled she was with every lasting moment they had looked at the other - to be heart-wrenching.
Any mention of a heart caused further disturbances in Sombra's presence as he recalled her winning move: the kiss that had confused him so much in its aftermath. Every time he recalled the event, it was with the sourness at knowing she was his enemy and how disgusted he was that somepony he dreaded had gotten that close to him with a mere twist-
Well, he did admit she was clever at the very least, and though his hatred for her burned on, ever brighter the longer he obsessed over this mare the knowledge that she was intelligent enough to stand against him - or just intelligent in general, really - was pleasing and Sombra would know what pleasing feels like. Every act of retaliation against the mind that tried to bind his fate had been pleasing, but with a more vicious feeling to it.
This was like a pause - a single moment of contentment - before his tempest of vindictive desire resumed and browsed each instance of Luna all over again.
Luna was a typical target of many of Onyx's cruelties and in his life the young colt had pursued her and stalked - for there was no intelligence in his desire to seek Luna out - the mare when she was far younger in her forays into the dense wooded area surrounding the tower Starswirl lived in.
For a creature so eye-catching and out of place in Crystalline castles and cobblestone towers, she didn't look completely hideous in that forest as Sombra would have thought of any other pony.
It was the moments like this - when Luna was free of woe, distress, and her many anxieties that troubled her in each memory, both Onyx's and Sombra's - that Sombra liked to observe her most. He found her most curious when she wasn't alarmed or trying to hide how extreme her emotions were that he could stop to watch Luna when she wasn't falling apart.
He never asked himself why, his focus always resumed soon enough but once or twice he found himself thinking about how her mane looked like the night sky when he met Luna for the first and only time. It was an obvious comparison to make, but he liked it. Anything to remind him of the sight of the stars - the only thing he missed - was always appreciated.
...
The longer he fixated on her, the more his focus steered elsewhere. Though he studied the memories of Luna meticulously he continued to assert she was his enemy - a statement he never doubted - before he stopped making such useless reminders all together and became even more absorbed in studying what visions of Luna he had constantly, since there was little to distract him.
Small antics of hers never ceased to spark some feeling of amusement in him: the way she tilted her head when pondering something, how she looked when her surroundings seemed to dissolve before her whenever she was engrossed in a book of verse, the colder stare she had in battle, the way she communicated to much with so little noise - he had always had a twisted appreciation for that in his eternal selfishness.
Even if her loyalty to her sister was misplaced to him - it was plain that she was a creature who, despite all her devotion and hidden passions wasn't as naturally inclined to such somberness as it seemed.
Something was missing, and it didn't take long for Sombra to realize that he had never seen a memory where Luna smiled.
...
What Sombra found to be the most troubling about Luna - he never called her anything else - was that she wasn't stupid or commonplace.
Once he picked her out of a crowd or any other setting, it was impossible to forget the impression she made. No matter how much she tried to disappear or hide she only stood out more and more to him, even in memories he had viewed thousands of times.
She could see things that others never acknowledged.
She saw him.
She didn't see the King - and if she had, she saw past him.
She saw Sombra, and no matter how strange they were to one another she had always looked at Sombra like she had known him, like that had made it hurt so much to see him when they fought.
Luna hadn't just suspected him of being somepony else - he had seen that too - but she was able to see Sombra himself no matter how much he had tried to drown in the darkness and grudgingly accept that castle as his tomb - so as long as he died by his own terms.
Everything about that was beautiful, but there was also something deeply horrifying too.
The moment she kissed him felt like the invisible, imaginary gears in a clockwork world that only they defied had clicked.
The moment Sombra knew what everything he had put aside and all the reactions he overlooked amounted to, he thought that he could feel them click again, louder than before as he looked over that memory yet again. He felt the surge of cold that only he was sure he could withstand as he thought about Luna, the mare with the brilliant mind who had beat him.
Luna, with the greatest power he had ever witnessed.
Luna, who he couldn't control - and even if he wanted to he would feel something he hadn't before: guilt.
Luna, for whom he felt sorry for ever hurting.
She who was like nopony else, who held her own.
She had done the impossible: she had proved him wrong.
As one hundred years ran out and the gears of the world clicked again, Sombra felt them whether they were his imagination or not. He felt the cold sense of dread and dawning realization of what he had never imagined as everything fell into place within his mind.
He did know his enemy, far better than he ever thought he would.
Sombra knew that he loved her, and that knowledge felt like whiplash. One conclusion that he wanted to tear apart and desperately try to deny because he simply couldn't believe it.
It hurt more than anything he had ever known right then and there because he knew that it was right and all denial would fall apart before he could even work on establishing anything that might counter this.
Whatever this was - this feeling so like hatred except for its core - was the strangest thing he had ever felt. And he was scared, or maybe excited - he really wasn't sure.
But maybe this wouldn't be as gods-awful as he anticipated it would be. After all, this is why he couldn't conjure up even half a plan to hurt this mare who was so beautiful when she stood alone.
Then, such a feeling was indescribable, but he didn't want anypony to take this away from even if he let them or there was somepony to try.
All this felt like drawing out poison. There was so much he wanted to know: what her smile looked like, what she thought about anything and everything, if she had seen all of the known world, if she would tell him about it, what their next meeting would be like...
The list went on and on as soon as he embraced this strange, addictive, and - in it's own way - rebellious nature.
Bit by bit, he could take his mind back and begin to overturn some of what had been done to him with something other than just sheer stubbornness and cunning. There was something else fueling him now.
He would have to wait to see Luna - that was an ache he would need to bear - but for them it would be worth it.
He had seen the ponies in the world - he had read about distant lands - but there was something unsatisfying about that now that that particular dream had been moved to second place - and a distant one at that.
He was the most selfish, arrogant, cunning, ruthless, thoughtful, ambitious and more. Absolutely nothing would get in his way to see the world - and in the end, her. There would be all the consequences he could imagine and even some he couldn't.
He was Sombra, the best the world had ever known and with the hope he never had before he would seek Luna, the brightest.
So the wait began. He remembered. He planned. He mourned. He burned with fury and everything else that he felt in droves.
And he hoped that wherever Luna was, she remembered him too.
...
This was the closest thing to freedom Sombra had ever known, and as tragic as that was to anypony else Sombra only found this experience to be riveting.
He was the center of the world, alone and not as restless as he had once been. While he certainly wasn't happy or even relived, he felt relatively unburdened and had accepted as much of the present and future here as possible, even if it dragged on time wasn't much of a bother to him.
For once, Sombra's life wasn't agonizing. His mood wasn't nearly as volatile as it had once been.
If he had cared to term it as anything it would be 'safe'. Like love it was an entirely new experience and even if he preferred the former, safe wasn't a horrid thing to be - though it could be jarring.
Sometimes, after a few decades meddling with magic systems and imagining anything that happened to cross his mind in a cold and unforgiving void of constant darkness Sombra would be overtaken by long bouts of paranoia and hurriedly deconstruct his experiments, ethereal constructions gleaming when his presence neared them vanishing faster than any mortal creature could blink as he waited for harm to come to him. On occasions like this he would have to shake his worst memories and the sensation of searing-hot magic tearing him apart.
It was almost stunning when nothing hurt him and he could go back to rebuilding everything better than before, the only thing close to sound being memories of others and his own tone, twisted from his equine voice into the rumbling of his shadow form, even if he lacked that much substance here.
Sombra was never bored. He had never been one to get lonely either, but there were some things he missed and not being able to control these things angered him - he was not free from episodes of frustration that had devolved into anger. Like love, he embraced almost any emotion he felt.
Oftentimes he just longed to hear his own voice again. Or flip his mane the way that made Onyx seethe.
Seeing colors again would be something he looked forward to.
He missed the sound of her voice and sometimes he would be quieter than usual for months while he replayed the only instances of he talking where she wasn't scared or mournful. There weren't very many of those but whenever Luna sounded sad, it hurt him more than he would ever let anypony know.
If he didn't already know the answer and he had somepony to ask, he would inquire to whether anypony cared about her.
Sombra certainly did.
...
Sombra could withstand each passing year with increasing ease after his epiphany. As expected, he slipped in and out of periods of mania, depression, and other things he wouldn't dare name. Mostly it was the lower moods - they were the most familiar after all. He knew that this was far better the alternative. Had he been anywhere close to sane his mind would have unraveled before him until only distorted instinct remained.
It had been centuries since he had ended up here and he had fully embraced his feelings for Luna. His obsession had worn down to something else that wasn't as maniac in nature, something that felt much more thoughtful if he could describe it to anypony that had been there.
If he could divide how he spent his time into two absolutes it would be a rather neat divide between craving further isolation as he obsessed over future machinations and thinking about Luna. Since he lacked any knowledge of what became of her after their one and only encounter, whenever he was at his lowest moods he found himself coming back to it time and time again.
He had already studied their confrontation tens of thousands of times. It was familiar, nostalgic, and no matter how many times he looked at this memory he hadn't been able to figure out one thing: Why somepony as smart and well-versed in magic as Luna had failed to defeat him by exploiting the fact that he was - and still is - a mortal? In the aftermath of their kiss she could have easily taken her blade to him or forced him to help find her locate her elder sister and have them both smite him. Sombra was the most powerful mortal they had ever encountered - he was certain of that - but that didn't mean that Luna wasn't presented with more than enough opportunities - ones that she would have seen - to end his life.
So why didn't she?
She wasn't incompetent as he had first thought and was more likely to break rules and entice any form of rebellion than her sister, and she was more likely to fight unconventionally or even use dubious tactics.
So why would he be here, where he was preserved instead of reduced to ash in the snow after a much more prolonged siege? There were plenty of times that could have been the outcome - yet her actions acted as the focal point where everything rippled out of control. Luna and her sister may not have been as skilled as they could have been for goddesses but they were still that - goddesses - and they would not tire as easily as he would.
She had seen him - however briefly - in all his unstable rants and sudden displays of temper so how could she allow Sombra to have any chance of survival or any kind of preservation at all?
Why would she not see that being sealed in a soul-chilling void where he couldn't physically age or be burdened with any physical needs at all was more of a mercy than a punishment?
She had seen him! She could see past all the regalia that had been forced upon him and yet she couldn't calculate such a simple possibility? That was outrageous!
He wanted her to look at him now! He loved her! He was smarter! His temper had gone from monstrous violence to something much more like an abnormally angry youth. He wasn't as violent any longer. He had time to think about everything, to be better. He was the center of the world. He could barely sense Onyx anymore - Sombra had long since deduced that he was suffering the same fate Sombra was enjoying so much, for he had braved the cold and so much more.
When he got out - if he did at all - he was going to use the short amount of time he would have to live to tell her how sorry he was and that he loved her. Maybe they could see the world before the effects of being in here took their toll. He could see the future, and maybe he would get to see her smile...
But he might not tell her at all... he knew that mare, and if she loved him back then he knew she of all immortals wouldn't be able to handle his death unless he managed to avoid the clutches of Tartarus.
He'd find the Book again and give her any clue to what happened to the other gods. Maybe he'd get an answer as well.
But none of this would be possible if it weren't for her mistake.
Except...
Except maybe it wasn't a mistake at all...
That thought - a second revelation - had more impact on him than falling down the entirety of the winding staircases he had made in the Crystal Empire.
Of course...
She couldn't have possibly known everything but because of her...
Luna had saved him.
Luna, the mare he loved more than he loved himself, was his savior. Because of her the only destiny he had was his own. Even though he would be bound Onyx forever, the godly magic used to send them both here had weakened their ties, ever so slightly.
But by the very stars that dared mimic her mane...
His destiny was his now, if he had a 'destiny' at all.
This... This changed everything.
It was his and his alone and he could make it as grand or terrible as he wanted it to be. Any dream he ever had...
Just maybe, maybe it could be true now. Luna was the reason he was alive, and though his own guiles may have aided him in weaving this fate, she was the one who had sealed it. For this, he loved her again. He now had freedom - or something like it.
She was trapped when she last saw him, and if she was still trapped when he found her then he would return the favor and set her free as well. To the best of his ability, he'd help her find who she had been forgetting, who she needed most: herself.
Sombra didn't care if he could never be happy or truly free because he now had a life to make his own and a fight to win.
He would wait and fight on. He would defy as Luna defied all his expectations. He would plan and he would continue to be always rebellious, no matter how big or small the challenges he faced would be.
And for the first time in a long, long while, Sombra wanted to live again.
Demon Racist [Bonus Material] [Omake] [Sombra/Cadance] [Friendshipping]
Author's Notes:
Demon facts of Favorable Alignment omake thing part one go!
Demon Racist
Comedy|Slice of Life|Teen
Characters: Sombra and Pink Butt
Sombra shuffled the stack of papers grasped in his aura boredly, while in the chair next to him, Cadance eyed his coffee mug warily.
"Isn't that a bit much?" She pointed to the mug with one gold-clad forehoof.
Sombra arched an eyebrow and looked at her with the beginnings of a glare. "My smug mug is perfect, thank you very much. Any further complaints about is can go there." He jerked his own metal-clad forehoof to a nearby trash can nearby their table at the conveniently empty Canterlot Cafe.
Cadance stared at the mug that did indeed display a smug image of Sombra himself on it. "Oookay then. I'm the only one who thinks two pairs of freaky demon eyes staring at me is going to be odd."
Sombra scowled, thrust a few papers at her, jabbing the pink mare in the chest with the sheets - half of which he had under his free forehoof and not in crimson aura - and mouthed the words 'demon racist'.
Cadance mouthed 'sorry' back. It was instinct, after all, and Sombra noticed.
"Living with the crystal ponies does terrible things to anypony, so don't think that you're an exception."
Cadance frowned in confusion, accepting the papers. "Terrible how?"
"You're terribly polite," Sombra grumbled, taking a sip from his coffee.
"That so bad, eh?"
Sombra shuddered. "Just look up the topic I drafted for us today."
"'All demons are created having knowledge implanted within them,'" Cadance read.
Sombra took another sip of coffee. Cadance wished for a scone, but muttered 'huh' instead.
"Something wrong?" Sombra asked.
"So... you were born already knowing everything?"
Her reply earned a snort from Sombra. "First off, I was created, not born. We've been over this before. If you're going to be learning more about demons and dark magic from me then we'll need to have you pick up some proper jargon here. Second, no, I did not know everything."
Narrowing her eyes in suspicion, Cadance squinted at Sombra, a sunny day in Canterlot showing behind her. "But... you're such a smart alec-"
"I prefer clever bastard or smartass," Sombra interjected.
"I'm trying to be nice! Polite, eh? That aside, I can't believe you didn't know everything when you created. I mean, c'mon... you can know everything. Guess my favorite color."
"Pink," Sombra replied flatly, his stare even flatter.
Cadance swallowed, as pale as though she had seen a ghost. "You're good."
"'Good' is an insult to me."
"...Okay, that's off topic-"
"Says the mare who keeps steering us into discussions of trivial matters instead of staying on the topic of my less-than esteemed species."
"Gotcha," Cadance replied, clearing her throat slightly. "Please name something you didn't know upon your moment of creation," she said in the politest tone possible.
Sombra's eyebrow rose again, even higher and he smirked. "Well miss, just let me know who bad guard is going to be and maybe I'll go so far as to consider whatever deal you'll be suggesting."
Both giggled, a pleasant summer breeze wafting through the cobbled street, bringing the fresh scent of the mountain with it.
"Seriously, Sombra, what didn't you know?"
He considers her question, a hoof tapping his chin in thought. "My eventual fate, the geography of the world, the cultures of the world, how to cook, what a cactus was - oh, and these are only examples, by the way - and where ponies came from-"
"Wait!"
Sombra looked at the pink source of the outburst. "Yes...?"
"You didn't know where ponies come from?"
Sombra shook his head. "Not then."
"How old were you?"
"When I was created? Fourteen."
"Okay..." Cadance said, drawing out the single word in a way that gained a suspicious look from Sombra.
"Is that a problem, Mac?"
"I was twelve when my mom gave me the talk and told me that if I ever brought a colt home past eight she'd force me to eat canned spaghetti until I cried a river which she'd make me wash away all ties to the family with. Oh, and that she'd paint my room pea green and I'd never be her daughter and my cutie mark would be the canned mockery that calls itself real pasta. There was also a lot of cursing."
Sombra's eye twitched. "Your mother sounds lovely."
"She's the kindest mare I know." Cadance smiled brightly.
"And what is this talk you speak of? Is it a ritual that ponies have?"
Drawing back, Cadance narrowed her eyes again and took a super suspicious and skeptical sip from her nearby milkshake. "Sombra... you know where ponies come from don't you?"
The slight teasing element in her tone was not lost on Sombra. Yet, he still couldn't help but cock his head to the side and look at her with an equal measure of suspicion. "Do you really take me to be that unaware of ponies? Of course I know. I'm older and smarter than you and hardly a child."
"How'd you find out?"
"A book."
"Okay then, non-pony friend of mine, what was your reaction?"
Sombra made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a snort of disgust before he rested his head in a forehoof and gazed at Cadance with level indifference. Also judgement.
"Horror, to be honest. I never gave too much thought to were ponies came from, other than they weren't magic-based life forms like me and they required both a mare and a stallion to produce a rugrat. I didn't know why until I learned to read."
"...That's slightly underwhelming. I thought your spooky demon magic would have told you."
Sombra gave her a star of mild disgust, exasperation, and judgement. There was minor traces of annoyance too, and that is what drove Sombra to drink. Coffee.
He made a series of disgruntled demon noises afterwards.
Cadance just blinked.
"My magic isn't the answer to everything. At that age, I just pitied mares."
Cadance blinked again. "Uh, why?"
"Giving birth. Do I need to add any more?"
Cadance laughed loudly. "So let's be glad you aren't a mare, eh?"
"I'd make a great mare," Sombra huffed, crossing his forehooves over his chest. "My beauty transcends such a silly barrier that would be being male of female."
Cadance didn't have a response for that.
"You know it's true, Mac. Your silence speaks for itself because you know the power that I have obeys no such biological dictation."
"You'd have an even prettier mane as a mare," Cadance whispered, her gaze distant.
Sombra gave her a look.
Maybe it was a worried look. Maybe it wasn't.
But it was still a look.
In a flash of blue light, Cadance was gone.
Demon Racist 2: Racist Harder [Bonus Material] [Omake] [Sombra/Cadance] [Friendshipping]
Author's Notes:
Demon facts of Favorable Alignment omake thing part two go!
Demon Racist 2: Racist Harder
Comedy|Slice of Life|Teen
Characters: Sombra the Eternally Fabulous and ピンクのポニー
"Do demons have a culture?" Cadance asked, eyes wide with a mix of confusion and curiosity. She stirred a bit of cream into her coffee, the spoon clinking out of rhythm with the music softly playing throughout the diner. Around her, ponies talked quietly and the air shimmered around the princess and her companion, making them seem more far away than usual.
Yet they booth they occupied felt surprisingly normal. Solid. The magic did not affect them.
Seated across from her, Sombra stared at her from the booth seat her occupied. Firefly lanterns twinkled in the twilight outside. Had he refused to sleep through most of the day or make an effort to curb his nocturnal habits, this meeting would have taken place in the actual morning rather than Sombra's morning.
"Not really," he said with a shrug, sipping the black coffee that he had conjured, claiming that it could never be made the way he liked it.
Among the napkins and papers on the booth table, a plate of evening pancakes for Cadance occupied the magic-veiled seat; Sombra's enchantment blurred the lines of perception that caused ponies and other mortals to ignore them while Cady looked at a world filled with vivid reflections and ghosts.
Not real ghosts, of course, but in the place she was now, they felt like ghosts. Ponies.
And one day they would be ghosts; as would she. And Shiny. And-
"And are you going to keep getting existential on me, or are we going to keep doing these little meetings of ours without you getting a vacant look in your eyes and vanishing like last time?"
Instantly, Cadance's purple gaze snapped to Sombra. She tucked a strand of her mane behind her ear. "Y-Yes! Yes we are!"
Sombra looked upon her smile with indifference and watched her shuffle papers while he set his mug down. Cadance glanced at it. Today it bore the the simple message of 'I' followed by the tell-tale heart to declare one' love for the surprising array of things that can be told on a coffee mug.
Sombra's said 'I 
MYSELF (ALSO PIZZA)'.
She didn't question it.
"Why doesn't your species have a culture?" she inquired, tone cheerful and earnest.
Sombra blinked tiredly. His expression was already rather grumpy. He hated mornings. And twilight. And mornings that were twilight. And twilight that served as his mornings. Before answering he briefly contemplated making coffee sacred to him while Cadance muttered about how mainstream the music was.
"Demons aren't like ponies," Sombra began, promptly glaring at Cadance when she interrupted him.
"They're created from magic, yes you told me that. Why don't they have a culture?"
"Maybe if you interrupt me some more, you won't get the answer!" Sombra said, flashing a brilliant, fang-y, and sarcastic smile that Cadance found oddly glamorous in a weird, demon-y way. "There's a thought!"
She was certain demon-y could be a word. Demonic was a word, so demon-y should be too.
Sombra sighed and began anew. "We've been over this before: demons are created, not born. Because of this, there is no stable population - especially when your species isn't composed of social beings with a dreadful her mentality like you ponies have. This would mean that-"
"Can I interrupt?" Cadance asked, curiosity shining in her eyes as she waved her left forehoof in the air a bit, being sure to glance at the papers in front of her to read a line again, just to be sure she hadn't missed something.
"You already did," he mumbled.
"Is it impossible for demons to be born?"
Sombra tilted his head to the side. "What do you mean?"
An impish grin spread across Cadance's face. "If a mommy demon and a daddy demon loved each other very much-"
"Yes, yes, I get the picture!" Sombra snapped, rolling his eyes. "That would be the only way a demon could be born, but there have never been any."
"How do you know that?"
Sombra's expression was completely humorless, but he waved his forehooves in the air before intoning flatly: "I'm magic."
Cadance snorted and grabbed a paper in her forehoof, holding it right in front of Sombra's muzzle. "What about this? I thought up this question in a particularly boring meeting of Auntie's I had to attend this Wednesday."
"I've always been more interesting than any royal duty."
"If by interesting you mean 'insane' then absolutely!" Cadance chirped. "Sooo... how long do demons live?"
Sighing, Sombra snatched up the paper in the grasp of his telekinesis. He glanced at the neat, curly, writing momentarily before passing it back to her in order to answer the call of his coffee.
"'bout the same as ponies, really," he managed while sipping the dark beverage. "But I don't imagine that any in the past would have made it that far. Two centuries is a lifespan, and it's what you do with it that often determines things, yet I still can't envision the average demon - were we to make a lot of assumptions about their nature and typical lifestyle only from what you know of me - would be able to make it past fifty."
"That's awful," Cadance said, with an earnesty that next to none would express towards such a race. "I can't imagine anypony living that short being normal."
"What do you think of mayflies then? They live even shorter lives than that - and there's an understatement if I've ever said one!"
"Mayflies are icky."
"'Icky'," Sombra repeated, giving her yet another look.
"Spiders are worse though. Auntie Luna adores spiders, but all it takes is one look into their creepy little eyes to inspire the deepest despair." To Cadance, the booth suddenly felt much colder and she shuddered.
"Spiders."
"You betcha! They're terrifying! Forget dragons, lich queens, wraiths, and demons-"
"You ponies really haven't changed since the time of the Tribes, you know that?"
"-or anything else. Spiders are going to kill us all. They know exactly where we sleep."
"So do I."
"They have pointy little fang things!" Cadance protested.
"So do I."
"Spiders defy the laws of nature!"
"And once again, so do I."
"But Sombra," Cadance whined, nervously adjusting her crown. "Spiders are vengeful, devious, and otherworldly beings. They're ageless and they power they have over the minds of others is something to fear. The skitter about in the shadows and terrorize the everymare. Spiders are going to kill us all; they're able to bridge the distance between what is mortal and what is a god. Their reign of terror preys on our most primal fears..."
"You're just describing me at this point," Sombra said, taking another sip of his coffee.
The pink princess blinked. "I-I am? ...But you're not a spider. I've never wanted to beg Shiny to hit you with a broom while I cower in fear."
"Wow, you're pathetic."
"It's for everypony's safety, Sombra! Spiders are dangerous and I can't bear to hit them with a broom that isn't on fire."
Sombra narrowed his eyes slightly. "Flaming brooms don't sound that bad... maybe I should try that sometime..."
"I know, eh? Everytime I hear the violent howls of battle and see the fires of madness reflecting in the eyes of one who charges a spider with fire as their friend, I'm reminded of home."
Sombra abruptly swallows a gulp of hot black coffee, but doesn't look as if he felt the burn of the piping hot liquid that dared to think it could wound him. "Alright, now I'm intrigued. How could a sight like that remind you of your home? Didn't you grow up in some dinky hamlet even smaller than where Purple Eyesore lives?"
"Yes," Cadance says, tone light. "I did grow up in a very small village. Nopony in my family liked spiders that much. My father always thought they were only a little gross and was super weird about brushing them onto newspapers - but only after he let me read all the funny pages! - and flicking them outside - but never into the garden where mamma grew her vegetables. Like me, she hated and feared the terrible spiders equally."
Cadance didn't notice that Sombra looked rather intrigued or that his ears pricked forward when her almost dormant accent, dulled with years of living in Canterlot and many lessons, flared up at the particular way she had of referring to her mother.
"What did your mother do about them then, raze the entire bloody village?"
Pulling back at what she perceived as an insult, Cadance stared at Sombra with shock gleaming in her lilac eyes. "No! My mother is the kindest pony I know. She's my hero! She would never hurt anypony who didn't insult her cooking or hurt another pony first - mostly by insulting her cooking. She's the one who always bought me all the best vinyls for my birthday and Hearth's Warming and read to me when I was little. There's no way she'd ever hurt a pony like that, in fact, I think you'd like my mother a lot."
"Uh-huh," Sombra said, not even trying to hide how unconvinced he was. "Are you going to continue to tell me how your mother got rid of spiders then, since I can't resist a tale about a fire of the scale you seem to be implying." He flashed another smile - the kind of smug grin that masterfully communicated that the owner was the one who just lit your house on fire and still had the time to behead each and every one of your tulips. It was brief. It was beautiful.
"My mother values many things: a good cook, a happy home, an honest pony, a loving family, and the luck of the gods."
"So that's why you're so superstitious," Sombra muttered, pricking his ears forward again.
She nodded at his observation. "But the three things she values most in this world - straight from her own mouth - is her daughter, her flamethrower, and her husband."
Sombra's eyes shone with wicked delight and even a bit of surprise. "Her flamethrower..."
"What did you think she was going to kill spiders with?" Cadance asked, eyes bright and innocent. Her voice was as cheerful as her smile.
And she watched as Sombra nodded ever so slightly in what might have been acceptance.
Demon Racist 3: Return of the Prejudice [Omake] [Bonus Material] [Awkward Friendshipping] [Shining Armor/Sombra]
Author's Notes:
Demon facts of Favorable Alignment omake thing part three go! It's really hard to find good art of these two that isn't super gay or shoddy, so the pictures I'll be using for the ones with Shining Armor and Sombra will be weirdly out of context or pretty gay.
Demon Racist 3: Return of the Prejudice
Comedy|Slice of Life|Teen
Characters: Sombra Brando and Shining Sparklestar
The background noise of the Manehatten diner echoed in the distance, sometimes sounding more far away than it actually was. Rain hit the windows, and the cityscape outside was only further blurred like the rest of the diner's interior, which was thick with magic that only one diner-goer could detect.
Sombra stared across the table, watching the other occupant bite into his lunch: a cooked carrot coated in fried batter and stuck on a stick. It was one of six still left inside the little cardboard container sitting atop the slightly greasy napkins on the otherwise clean table. Salt and pepper shakers glittered with the shimmering world around them, reflecting all the foggy colors.
"So..." the white unicorn stallion mumbled through his food, "...funny seeing you here."
Sombra grunted and lit his horn. Nothing appeared to happen and he continued to watch Shining Armor eat, occasionally pausing to brush crumbs off his purple and gold armor with a few strokes of magic. Then, the white-coated and green-eyed disguise began to fade, revealing Sombra's dark gray coat and crimson eyes. The disheveled mane he never bothered to hide or color anything but black was the only thing other than his build that remained unaltered by his magic.
Well, that and the fangs Sombra never let anypony other than Luna - and occasionally Cadance - see. He looked down at the pizza slice on the metal plate in front of him, outshining the waxy paper it rested upon.
"I suppose I could say the same thing, Prince Glitterbutt," Sombra said, shrugging slightly and levitating his coffee mug so he could take a sip. It was covered with a series of symbols that the average pony would dismiss as nonsense, but Shining Armor recognized it quickly enough - time spent around Twilight Sparkle taught him to distinguish advanced mathematics when presented with them. Not that he actually knew any...
"I'm here because Cadance is attending a charity gala with Princess Celestia, hosted by the mayor of the city."
"Sounds like it'd be fun to crash that. Oh, and ten bits says she went because she wanted to criticize the music choices."
"Don't even think about it-"
"I already have," Sombra said, smirking slightly before setting his mug down and casting a mildly disgusted glare at Shining's beverage choice.
"And, yes, she did go to comment on the gala's music choice. Hey, why are you staring at my drink like that? Do you have something against cream soda?"
"Considering I'm a vegan, yes. Yes I do."
"You're drinking coffee that you conjured out of thin air in a fast food joint, so how are you any better?"
"Do you even hear yourself speak?" Sombra said, scoffing. "At least I don't have a little brat of a sister who is spoiled by a pain-in-my-ass goddess."
"That goddess is the ruler of a nation that you live in and has branded you as decently terroristic."
"Just because I illegally show up in whatever country I please and have a habit of kidnapping three fourths of their leaders does not make me 'decently' terroristic, it makes me very terroristic."
Shining Armor looked to the ceiling for divine aid that would never come and gulped down half the soda in his glass. His eyes widened a bit when he looked at Sombra.
"Is that blood on your tie?"
"I just got off work," Sombra said simply, shooting Shining Armor a flat stare that bored through the other stallion with such an intensity that Shining almost felt his skin burn.
"...So that's why you're at a Manehatten diner? Because you've quit your shady Mafia dealings for the day?"
"That would be correct. I had a job in this city and was almost surprised to meet you here."
"In the diner?"
"No, not at all. This place suits your excuse for taste very nicely. In the city. I hadn't heard about the gala."
"Hey!" Shining protested, "I bought you that pizza!"
Sombra rolled his eyes and magically adjusted the tie he wore for his job. It was crimson, and simply his usual cloak woven into a different form. The rest of his suit was just black and white with a jacket collar he always had the compulsion to turn up. The last pony who had commented on the habit didn't live very long. "Oh no, the royal guard captain and prissy Crystal Prince is threatening me, a demon god, I'm positively terrified! You only bought me two slices anyway, you cheapskate."
"Says the crazy hobo who shuns currency."
"Money is disgusting. At least I have the decency to steal what I want. I'm a proud hobo, too. Do you really think a silly All Equestrian Colt type like you is going to diminish my hobo pride?"
"I don't think anything can..."
"Exactly!" Sombra exclaimed, slamming a forehoof onto the table's surface.
Shining nervously sipped his cream soda, nodding vigorously and silently praying to every god but Sombra that he might survive this... unusual lunch. "Yep! Your ego's practically infinite!"
"Agreed!"
He almost choked on the soda when Sombra brought his hoof down on the table again, causing it to shake. Sombra didn't care and simply ignored Shining's coughing until it ceased. Shining was silently glad that Sombra had chosen to keep his usual metal boots in the form of bands of silver around his forehooves - whether the two he wore on his hindlegs were simply concealed by his apparel or Sombra wasn't currently wearing them, Shining didn't know.
"What exactly are those things that you're eating?"
"Corndogs," Shining Armor said through a mouthful of the stuff. "It was originally a food developed by the griffons-"
"Griffonstone?"
"No, no - it wasn't that colony, but cities from their empire in the west that made them. Based them off some snack of ours or something but decided that they wanted to be able to sell this stuff to ponies. That meant they needed to change the meat interior to something ponies could eat."
"Meat eating is absolutely revolting," Sombra said, cringing and keeping no venom from his tone.
Shining Armor's response was simply to eat another corndog. "It's natural for some creatures. I mean, yeah, any pony that does it is obviously sick but not every creature is going to have the diet of a pony."
"That doesn't mean I don't find the concept of a carnivore or an omnivore revolting. Those creatures would even dare to put meat on pizza."
"You're certainly a very weird vegan," Shining Armor mused, chewing his corndog in thought.
Sombra rolled his eyes again and glared at Shining, who, after swallowing his latest bite of corndog, picked up on the meaning quickly:
Do you have anything else to say?
It was an indirect threat, a challenge, and an intimidating one at that. Slowly and carefully, Shining Armor swallowed his corndog. He gingerly placed the stick it had been on down and began to shakily levitate another from the pile. Only four corndogs remained. Sweat trickled down his brow.
Sombra continued to stare at him, the mysterious demon's glare never wavering.
"So, uh, lovely weather we're having?"
Sombra bobbed his head in a small nod. Shining Armor couldn't tell if he was joking or not. In search of any kind of distraction and sudden topic-changer, Shining Armor's blue eyes darted to any and everything he thought would make an adequate thing to discuss.
The windows were a bit dirty.
The cashier looked clinically depressed.
The waitress attending another table looked unusually happy. Had she drained all the emotions from the former?
Shining Armor settled on looking meaningfully upon what was likely a grease stain on the ceiling. "These kinds of places bring back memories."
Sombra made a small sound in the back of his throat as acknowledgement, but his focus was occupied by a stack of papers he had conjured and was browsing through.
"I always loved going out to places like this with Twily and Cady. Diners in Canterlot were always nicer, but gods I love going to them and trying to find all the differences, y'know? Twily and I used to make into a game and we'd try to steal one another's fries and... HEY!"
"Wut?" Sombra grumbled the garbled word through a mouthful of the medium hayfries that Shining Armor had ordered.
Shining almost did a double take when he looked at the contents - or near lack of - the cardboard fry container. "Y-You... just how many of those can you fit in your mouth?! Is it, like, a pocket dimension? Did Cady teach you the art of fry stealing? She's always taking my fries - even if they're cold! Who in their right mind steals cold fries? From their own husband? Oh gods, is this some weird demon spell of yours? "
Sombra's speech and assorted demon noises were largely unintelligible due to the large amount of hayfries he had crammed into his mouth, and yet, if Shining Armor had listened carefully he might have heard something like 'demon racist' through it all.
But he was too busy mourning his fries. "By the sun and moon, Cady taught Luna about hayburgers and fry stealing, and they decided to get you in on it, didn't they? Everypony - and the demon - team up on good ol' Shiny so they can steal his fries! What kind of world is this when a stallion can no longer enjoy fries without his wife, a goddess, and a demon stealing something as sacred as fries?"
"These don't even have sea salt on them, you lout." Most of what Sombra said was still a bit obscured from fries, but his message was clear. Shining Armor simply ranted on, oblivious to Sombra's superior point.
"This nation is built on friendship, lawfulness, and harmony! Fry thieves do not fit into either of those things."
Sombra busied himself by taking the rest of the distracted Shining Armor's fries and setting a few napkins on fire, watching with great interest as the ashes hit the pale surface of wax paper.
'I joined the guard in order to defend against criminal scum like you, but here I am, nice ol' Shiny buying you lunch-"
"I threatened to kill your family if you didn't. Except Pink One. She doesn't need to be threatened into buying me nice things... as often. Shows how horrid a friend you are."
"-and you repay me by stealing something as pure as my humble serving of hayfries, eh?"
"Fight me."
And as Shining Armor ranted on, Sombra busied himself with the task of eating his second pizza slice. It didn't even have any toppings. He had asked for toppings. Eight times. What did he get? No toppings.
"All my life, I've done nothing but abide by the rules, help others, and do good to my fellow pony."
"You're taking this far too seriously. If this topic was anywhere near as important as pizza toppings, me, or anything even half worthy of this kind of rant, I'd be marginally more understanding. The 'bordering on potentially tolerant and not letting you go on purely for my amusement and your pain' kind of understanding. This is just one of the many flavors of understanding that you have yet to learn in this world, Shimmerass. All are part of a larger whole, much like pizza, and yet these small differences come to describe us. ALMOST LIKE THE BLASTED TOPPINGS I KEPT ASKING YOU FOR!"
Sombra finished the last bite of pizza angrily and with a vengeance that snapped Shining Armor from his soliloquy and left him shaking in his seat, eyes wide.
When he opened his mouth to speak, Sombra growled and shoved a paper toward him. Shining's magenta magic flared up and accepted it cautiously. "Since Pink One isn't here to provide intelligible conversation and I'm stuck here with an oaf like you, you're going to be doing whatever I want you to until I decide you've tried my patience to much. Got it?"
Shining Armor hugged the paper Sombra gave him to his breastplate, unable to meet Sombra's fiery gaze and harsh tone. "...Do you just want me to buy you an ice cream cone as an apology?"
"I'M A DAMNED VEGAN!"
"Sorry!" Shining yelped, finally taking a look at the paper. "Oh... this is because I was talking about what my foalhood was like, huh? So you and Cady just talk about this weird stuff... I guess I shouldn't be to surprised, eh? She's always loved horror-"
"I'm beautiful," Sombra snapped.
Shining Armor ignored him, offering only an awkward, sheepish smile as a reply. "I'm not exactly the pony best to judge that. So-" He cleared his throat, coughing slightly in the process, "your paper here says that all demons are at least ten years of age. I don't know much about demons - not like Cady and Princess Luna - but could we just pretend I do?"
"Maybe."
"How'd you find this out?"
"Demon, god-being, and magical genius. Perhaps those had something to do with it?"
"Ah-hah. Got it, so then, does this mean you were first created with the mind and body of a ten year old?"
"I was fourteen."
"It says that all demons are-"
Sombra growled and facehoofed. "No, it says at least. Not exactly. Have you ever considered observing the details of something?"
Shining Armor was quiet, and at the moment he looked like he was going to speak again, Sombra snatched his paper back and promptly sat up. He shuffled it in with the others in the stack he still had out, shoved a few of the little plastic jelly thingies into an interior pocket of his suit and lit his horn, reconstructing the colors of his disguise in moments.
"You and your family annoy me endlessly with your idiocy, Gleaming Sprinkle."
Making sure he had the last word, Sombra teleported away and the magical barriers reminiscent of an incomplete pocket dimension or a washed out expressionist landscape painting dissolved around him the instant the demon disappeared.
"...You're welcome for the free lunch?"
When he received no reply, Shining Armor busied himself with eating corndogs once more.
Alone.
Demon Racist 4: What's the Deal With Demon Aging? [Omake] [Bonus Material] [Barely Tolerant Friendshipping] [Shining Armor/Sombra] [Cadance/Sombra] [Friendshipping]
Author's Notes:
Demon facts of Favorable Alignment omake thing part four go! It's really hard to find good art of Shining and Sombra that isn't super gay or shoddy (or fits the story), so the pictures I'll be using for the ones with Shining Armor and Sombra will be weirdly out of context or pretty gay.
Demon Racist 4: What's the Deal With Demon Aging?
Comedy|Slice of Life|Teen
Characters: Sombra the Enigma Sassy, Cadance the Compassionate, and, uh, Shining Armor the... Straight?
Cadance sat down on the grass and her horn lit up with sparkling blue aura. Humming cheerily, she tugged the picnic basket open with her magic and began to withdraw the contents. The grass she sat on was a picturesque spring green still shining with traces of morning dew that lingered longer the farther one went up Canterhorn Mountain. A soft, cool breeze blew, rustling the sparse plant life other than grass: a cluster of bushes and a few trees.
"Why in the name of my incredible good looks are we sitting in the grass and having a bloody picnic?"
Lifting her head, Cadance stared at Sombra, who sat lay prone a few paces away from her, a book balanced in his forehooves. "When I wrote to you that I would be visiting Canterlot, you mentioned that you wouldn't mind having lunch with me."
"And why does this mean you think you can just show up on my mountain and start setting up a picnic?" Sombra growled softly, though not menacingly, and bit down hard on the gum Cadance saw he was chewing. She didn't have to ask to know that it was mint, the sweetest thing that she knew Sombra would eat.
"You said you weren't going to pay for lunch."
"I did." Cadance noted that Sombra looked surprisingly calm, his crimson eyes trained on her. They were always watching and searching for something.
"That's why I packed a lunch!" Cadance said, smiling widely and proudly levitating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
Sombra stared at them boredly, using a forehoof to mark his place in the book he was reading so the breeze would not disturb his reading. "I do hope that you're aware that I am twenty four not four, nor have I ever been four."
Inhaling quietly, Cadance prepared to drop the sandwiches she had so carefully wrapped and tied with glittery little ribbons - she had at least noticed Sombra nod in acknowledgement that signified some level of approval over that small detail - a wave of gloom sweeping across her face.
"B-But-"
"Are you having a picnic with Sombra?"
Both Cadance and Sombra turned to look at the third voice. The former whimpered ever so slightly, lip quivering while the latter only offered a mild scowl to the newcomer that he had sensed arriving.
"Shiny, PB&J is a totally cool lunch, isn't it?"
Shining Armor stood at the barely worn trail that led to the secluded part of Canterhorn Mountain where Sombra lived, and blinked at Cadance's minor outburst. "Umm..."
"Tell Sombra how amazing PB&J is!"
"Cady, I thought that you said peanut butter and jelly sandwiches was a snack option that you, uh, considered too..." Shining gulped and looked around quickly. Sombra made a small tch-ing noise in the back of his throat upon seeing that the Crystal Prince was unable to search for an escape route discreetly.
"...too mainstream," Shining finished carefully pronouncing the word as though it wore forbidden.
Cadance's face reddened slightly in response and Sombra's ears pricked forward to catch a small gasp. "Shiny! By Luna, Celestia, and all of Equestria! What did I tell you and Twily about using the m-word? I've met both your parents - my lovely in-laws - so I know you were raised better"
"But-" He looked to Sombra, eyes pleading, that for once, they could put aside their differences and that the demon would offer up his assistance just this once to save him, as any friend would do-
"Not happening," Sombra said coldly, the white unicorn's thoughts spelled out plainly to him. He returned to the place in his book where his forehoof had rested without much else, but still kept his ears pricked forward so he could hear all the drama that played out.
Shocked, Shining Armor attempted to glare at Sombra, mouthing 'cold blooded' in his discretion and facing his wife's (surprisingly mild) wrath alone.
"That is a dirty word, Shiny!"
"Listen Cady-"
"No, Shiny, you listen!" Cadance was standing now, stamping one gold-shod hoof against the ground. A nearby dandelion quivered at her strength. "You showed up to lunch late-"
"Really, Pink One? Inviting him? I may be egotistical, but even I don't need to pick on my inferiors to shallowly raise self esteem and fuel thoughts of superiority that aren't earnest - unlike mine. The thought is still appreciated, but I'll remind you that if we invite Sadsack Armor to lunch, there will be less for us - and that can't be tolerated."
When Cadance didn't respond, Sombra lifted his head, messy black bangs falling into his eyes as he watched the scene in front of him unfold. The start of an amused smirk had begun to show on his face.
"This trip was supposed to be a nice way to spend time with our family and friends and you can't even show up to lunch on time! I made a r-really nice lunch and everything-"
"Cady," Shining Armor interjected.
"No, this is important! Lunch is the second most important meal of the day! Shiny, where are your priorities? You only listen to one kind of music, corndogs are your favorite food - Shiny, I think we need to get our lives together!"
Sombra had marked his page once more, quietly closing his book so he could watch the two of them bicker. There would always be time to brush up on his Germane later, but for now, he was too tempted by the siren song of schadenfreude and the cool wind stirring his mane to pay attention to much else.
"Cady, what do you mean? Our lives are fine, and it isn't like corndogs are that bad - you should just try one!"
"Corndogs are evil!" Cadance shouted back. "Isn't that right, Sombra?"
The small smirk Sombra had widened. "Yes, I can confirm that corndogs are in fact, laced with dark magic that will cause you to rot from the inside out as years wear on. Glitter Sprinkle will gradually become corrupted if his consumption of such a disgusting excuse for a snack food continues."
"Well, you like to eat pizza for breakfast!"
Sombra snorted. "Damn right I do. Not sure how you know but..."
Cadance snapped her attention to her husband, mouth in a wide 'o' of shock. "Shiny! Do you know how insensitive that was to Sombra? He just gave you life saving advice!"
Both Cadance and Sombra watched Shining Armor's bewildered expression in silence. The sound of the facehoof that followed seemed to reverberate.
Cadance bit her lip and Sombra's eyes followed Shining Armor's movements as he walked back down the mountain, the same expression still on his face, blue eyes clouded with confusion. Sombra heard him muttering under his breath as he went, but the exact words went unheard.
As soon as he was gone, Sombra indulged in a triumphant smirk and Cadance began to burst with giggles. The latter trotted over to the former, a spring in her step. When she got too close for Sombra's comfort, Sombra's smirk disappeared, but he looked calm enough to be approachable - at least, by the standards of his friend.
She offered her forehoof, holding the gold-shod limb in the air and waiting. Sombra simply stared for a moment, unsure of what to do.
"C'mon Sombra, don't leave me hanging. You know how to hoofbump, don't you?"
She saw his eye twitch slightly, and though his sigh was obvious, it was an amused sigh instead of an annoyed one. He lifted his own forehoof - his left - and bumped it against hers with a small eye roll that she caught through the black bangs that had fallen into his eyes again. Silver metal met gold, and for that moment, their evil was celebrated.
"Congrats, Mac, you've managed to go from an almost complete goody four horseshoes to barely nefarious."
"Hooray!" Cadance cheered, grinning like a filly who had only just got her cutie mark. Sombra watched her jump and squee, feathers rustling, with deadpan indifference.
"We really need to work on your celebratory abilities, Sombra! I'm barely nefarious now, which is, like, completely evil!"
"Sure it is."
"I know, eh?" Her smile was sparkling and cloud white. "So what demon facts do you have to share with me now that Shiny's gone?"
"And I'm the cold hearted one? You just ditched your husband."
Cadance hastily swallowed a PB&J sandwich that she had unwrapped at an even hastier pace in the instant between her responses to Sombra. "You helped... and he's no fun at Demon Fact Club!"
"We are not calling our meetings that. 'League of Demon Enthusiasts' is far more fitting."
"I'm an enthusiast!" Cadance cheered, gagging on a piece of her sandwich at the last minute.
Sombra glared at her until she stopped coughing. "This is what happens when you doubt my naming ability."
"You named your pet fish 'Fish'."
"It's a brilliant name! Just shut up and sit down. Your Uncle Sombra has a lovely array of demon facts for you today."
Cadance obeyed, plopping onto a nearby patch of grass. She continued to munch on her sandwich and watched with wide lilac eyes as Sombra conjured a familiar stack of papers from wherever he had left them. She levitated the temporarily forgotten basket over to her, withdrawing a cold soda from inside. The glass bottle still shone with magic-held moisture. A bag of ketchup chips followed.
Sombra cast a brief, mildly offended glare, at the food and pulled his book close. Cadance watched as he shuffled the papers he held in his magic and rested a protective forehoof on the cover of the book - she couldn't read the title, it was one of the foreign languages she was entirely unfamiliar with.
...
"Don't demons age like ponies?"
"For the most part they do. When a Shadow - that's what a summoner and demons are called collectively - is created, a new body is as well. That body matches up with one of the demon's souls in terms of physical and mental age. That demon is the most dominant is usually the one that the body 'belongs to'."
"Demons are weird."
"You should know that by now. Bad Pink One." He lightly bopped her on the head with his book.
Cadance took a long swig of soda after recovering from the mortal blow. "How were you able to gather so much information about a species with only one member left? Doesn't that make you practically extinct?"
Sombra nodded, swallowing his gum. "More or less. I'm going to try and make sure that there's never another demon again. As for gathering information? Being the god of knowledge makes it very easy to browse the copy of the Book that still exists in my head."
"Ohmigosh you have a head book? A mind book?" Cadance leaned forward, eyes wide and ponytail swishing.
Sombra growled softly and meanly until she pulled back, nervously tugging her ponytail, pink coat blanched a few shades lighter so that her blue bow seemed even brighter.
"Sorry," she whispered, averting her eyes and meekly levitating a chip into her mouth.
The intensity of Sombra's glare increased.
Cadance gulped, nervously levitating a chip into her mouth... only to find that the chip bag wasn't there. Her breathing felt shallower at the sight of bare ground where her precious chip baby had once been-
-and then she heard a crunch.
She looked at Sombra, mouth hanging open, but no sound escaping. He smirked and smugly crunched on another victory chip.
Except for the sound of ketchup chips being eaten, the only sounds around the demon god and speechless demigoddess were that of the wind and an arrogance so astounding it was practically audible.
Demon Racist 5: When You Wish Upon a Demon [Omake] [Bonus Material] [Passive Aggressive Friendshipping] [Shining Armor/Sombra]
Author's Notes:
Demon facts of Favorable Alignment omake thing part five go! It's really hard to find good art of Shining and Sombra that isn't super gay or shoddy (or fits the story), so the pictures I'll be using for the ones with Shining Armor and Sombra will be weirdly out of context or pretty gay.
Demon Racist 5: When You Wish Upon a Demon
Comedy|Slice of Life|Teen
Characters: Sombra the Mad and Shining Armor the Wet Blanket
Shining Armor sucked in a deep breath, but did not dare to sigh in relief. The gleaming edge of a silver scimitar could be felt along his throat, the strike from the dark just narrowly avoiding an actual cut. When Shining saw the red crystal veins on it, he knew that the miss was on purpose.
Starlight poured through the Canterlot streets, but there was no visible form to pierce the night-dark sky, only a familiar sword gleaming at his throat and the owner, lurking in shadow.
"Are you seriously trying to rob me at swordpoint, Sombra?" All I wanted was a nice visit with my family, Shining thought, not have the world's sassiest nutcase decide to pay me a visit on a late night stroll.
"I am. Now, fork them over."
Shining Armor blinks, deciding to humor the demon. "Fork what over? I have barely any bits on me."
"Exactly. I wouldn't try and hassle somepony if I thought they were carrying a large sum of bits."
"Are you ever going to make sense?"
In the darkness, Shining Armor thought he heard a snort.
"Are you ever going to make sense?" came the scarily perfect mimicry of his voice that made Shining Armor blanched an even paler shade of white than his coat.
"H-How did you do that?"
"Demon magic," Sombra quips, still replicating Shining's voice perfectly.
Looking around for other ponies silhouettes in the peaceful, dark street, Shining was relieved to find that there were none on this particular street and that the sight of him and Sombra together wouldn't be a spectacle, nor would their exchange be relayed to the more gossipy social circles of Canterlot.
"Okay, but could you cut it out?" Shining said, gritting his teeth.
"And what would I get out of it if I did, Glitter Sprinkle?"
For a solid fifteen seconds, that question consumed Shining Armor. What could he offer a morally dubious demon? Should he give in or...?
With a defeated sigh, the white unicorn reached into the small saddlebag at his side. He had hoped the darkness would conceal it from Sombra's eyes, but it was not to be so.
"Here," he said, levitating a modest amount of bits and what looked to be tickets in Sombra's direction.
A crimson aura sparking to life immediately revealed Sombra's hooded form. Though he was still dimly lit and blending in with the murky night hues of the street, his eyes, wide with intrigue gleamed in the dark as he snatched up the prize.
"Your begrudging donation to my insanity and superior lifestyle is much appreciated."
Shining Armor stared at him tiredly, wondering how he could make even the tone of his voice sound as if it were smirking too.
"However..." Sombra's aura waved the slips of paper about in front of Shining's eyes. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with these."
"They're coupons," Shining Armor said tiredly. "You can get free pizza with them."
Sombra frowned. "I already do that."
"You can get free pizza legally using those," Shining Armor corrected.
"You realize that most laws are more like guidelines, don't you? As long as you can defend your position against them and secure whatever it is that you seek as well as manage a proper escape, tell me just who's going to stop you?"
Immediately opening his mouth to protest, Shining Armor found himself cut off by a smug wave of the demon's hoof.
"I mean, really, if I can get away with arson, theft, and harassment in the same day while jaywalking on my merry way back to my residence of choice then what exactly are your mediocre laws and supposed enforcement accomplishing when I'm still only just not considered the most wanted entity to still walk the planet?"
"When could you have gotten away with all those things in the same day?!"
"Today," Sombra said flatly. "But I'm still a bit confused over what it is you think I'll end up doing with these 'coupons' since I literally get what I want in terms of pizza simply by abusing power."
"There's free soda too. Don't you like soda?"
"No."
"Breadsticks?"
"No."
"Uhh... those little mints by the cash register?"
"You aren't even trying to convince me to use lawful means to obtain the edible salvation that is pizza anymore, are you? Plus, those suckers are free. Everypony knows that."
Sombra smugly watched as Shining Armor facehoofed. "It's after midnight, Sombra, sane ponies would usually be in bed, and the only reason that I'm walking to a twenty four hour pizza place at this hour is because-"
"Pink One put you on a diet."
"She told you?!" Shining Armor didn't notice that Sombra had snatched the coupons back, stuffing them into some interior pocket of his cloak.
"No, but you did."
Sombra's ears pricked forward to catch the sound of a groan and another facehoof. "I hate you, Sombra."
"You're not my type, anyway. And you're married, so even if I had no standards were, you're safe."
"Wait, you-"
"I'm not like you're little sister, one Miss Bilight Sparkle, if that's what you're asking, but I suggest that you head back home to mummy and daddy's house and you can forget that this ever happened. Won't that be nice?"
"Urgh, your condescending asshole behavior actually has a point this time, doesn't it?"
"When doesn't it?"
"...You know what? I'm not going to answer that one."
Sombra shook his head, and it was impossible to miss the shining white teeth revealed by his smirk. Shining knew, even in his weary state, that Sombra had fangs, but some unspoken rule led to the fact that Sombra disguised his fangs - for what reason, he didn't know - outside of the few occasions Shining saw him. It wasn't something he pressed either. Or questioned - Shining thought it was best not to question Sombra or try to understand what he did. Sombra was crazy, end of story.
"What is your brilliant plan now, Captain? I have my prize and there's nothing that you can do about it. So are you off to wallow in the fact that Pink One of all ponies has you on a diet that you have resigned yourself to?"
Looking down to the ground instantly, Shining began to attempt mumbling out a proper excuse. "Well, you see... Uh... Okay... So... Don't you normally just talk to ponies about how wonderful you are and bizarre your species is?"
"Sometimes. What's it to you?"
Shining gave a long sigh. "I wish I was anywhere but with you, okay? You're a nutcase and I'm not even sure if I can begin to describe the headaches I get around you and just how... urgh, 'abnormal' is the only word I can think of this late... the things you say are."
"Do you really think that attempting to bore me to death with your whining is going to make me pity you and give you a slice of pizza?"
"I'm so exhausted I might just beg at your hooves for it."
Sombra blinked and looked down at the shorter stallion. "Glitter Sprinkle, you are by far one of the most pathetic things to ever walk the world. Your candy golem of a wife is still less yellow than you are and she is made of candy some bloke enchanted and stuck a slightly pretty wig on-"
"What are we even talking about anymore?"
"So, if you didn't interrupt me I might actually not tell Mac about just how downright obnoxious your behavior has been and that you were out past midnight with a cloaked stallion-"
"Gods - you excluded, of course - you'd really try to imply that, Sombra?! That's low! it doesn't even make sense! I'm-"
"I know, I know. The sheer amount of heterosexuality that you radiate is actually somewhat annoying. I could break into your bedroom and write 'I'm gay' on you in your own blood and I'm sure that somewhere in the universe a planet would implode just because of how straight you are and by morning that message would read 'I'm straight' by its will alone."
"What even..."
"It'd be all your fault too. Even your wife isn't as straight as you."
"Oh gods, I have literally no idea about what's even happening anymore."
Sombra snorted. "Really? I wouldn't have guessed. But in all seriousness, I wasn't even sure that it was possible for anything to be as straight as you were."
"Are you harassing me?" Shining Armor asked incredulously. "For being straight? Who would harass a pony for something like that? Better yet, why would you harass somepony in the majority of a demographic? That generally goes against the very concept of what harassment even is."
"Damn, you are thinking way too hard about this. I'm definitely never going to invite you to any parties."
Shining Armor's half-glazed stare was a silent signal to Sombra that the Crystal Prince had absolutely lost his marbles.
All of them.
"You see, harassment is just the bullying of somepony - usually somepony in a minority or the odd pony out - up to eleven."
"I never would have guessed."
"So the fact that you are attempting to harass me for being straight despite no longer taking violent action against me makes no sense."
"You're sort of a tragedy on some existential level, aren't you?" Sombra tossed a lock of his mane that was protruding from his hood back under the fabric, and engulfed his entire sword in a flash of magic so that the blade was reduced to a very menacing dagger which he began to pick his teeth with while leaning on a nearby wall and slyly taking in the sight of the ranting unicorn pony.
"Not to mention that I'm pretty sure that you count as a minority since you're the last of your kind. That means that I should be the one harassing you."
"You and everypony else. Now, do go on. It isn't like I have anywhere better to be at three in the morning."
"So, Sombra, all your actions this night are completely illogical."
"The very slight implication that you stalk me - as false as it is - and the fact that you're suggesting that I be harassed by you is the very definition of racist. Demon racist."
"And that's why you're a complete nutcase!" Shining Armor declared, standing as straight as he could with all the proudness one could muster at the hour.
"The relation between you and your sister is painfully obvious. Was your entire family just dumped down this mountain to give all the offspring from the time of this nation's founding to the unknown future all the brain damage that anypony could ever want and more? If I weren't talking about ponies the sheer amount of just how unethical that is would almost be surprising."
Shining Armor blinked his eyes tiredly, whipping his head in either direction as surprise and confusion dominated his features. "W-Wait? What was I doing? Oh gods, what time is it? Why do I feel like I'm almost hungover? Just what has-"
Sombra smirked widely. "You were telling me just how much you loved me with all your heart and how you'd do anything for me and go to the end of the world just please me because the undying love you have for me demands it."
"I hate you."
"Ooh, are you mad? What do you think scrunching your muzzle at me is going to do? Come on, what are you gonna do? I literally just robbed you."
"Shit," Shining Armor hissed.
Sombra poked his dagger in the prince's direction. "Do tell me what you're going to do, after all, I only have eternity to wait for an answer. So what's it going to be? You going to throw your wife at me again, huh? Is that what this is going to boil down to?"
Shining Armor brought a hoof to his face both so he could facehoof and to disguise his completely masculine defeated sobs in the most eloquent way possible.
"You have no idea how much I wish that the Crystal Heart killed you and your summoner."
Sombra tensed up at the mention of a summoner but otherwise remained undaunted by the less than pathetic attempts to insult him. "Wishing for things rarely ever gets you what you want - and even if your wish is granted, it's usually in every way you never wanted it to be. I'd add something like 'wouldn't you say so' to that, but it's clear that you're beyond any coherent responses and that most discussions that we have that won't be entirely dominated by ego and cruel desire to see you humiliate yourself on oh-so-many levels along with my better judgement is telling me otherwise."
"You no-good son of a bitch," Shining hissed through gritted teeth, exhaustion giving him a slightly feral demeanor.
Sombra only chuckled mirthlessly. "'No-good' I am, but a son of a bitch? Demon. No parents. I'm a bastard and we both know it. All demons are bastards. Demons are a lot like wishes too, in a very ironic way. I mean, look at you. You're disgusting. Creatures like you have to attempt to claw their way to what they believe is true irony. But me? I was created ironic. I am irony itself. But you? You're scum."
A choked noise died in Shining Armor's throat. "...I-I think I'll just go home now."
"That's right, run crying back to your mother and write about how awful I am in your diary while some of Mac's edgy music plays in the background. All this will be a futile attempt to fill the void in your soul, whoreson."
Shining Armor gulped a shaky breath of air, threw up a forehoof in a clear 'I'm done' gesture and began to walk back the way he came.
"Oh, and say hi to your wife for me, you filthy piece of ponyflesh!"
Demon Racist Finale: DON'T TRIGGER THE DEMONS! [Bonus Material] [Omake] [Friendshipping] [Cadance/Sombra]
Author's Notes:
Demon facts of Favorable Alignment omake thing part six go!
Demon Racist Finale: DON'T TRIGGER THE DEMONS!
Comedy|Teen|Slice of Life
Characters: Cady and Sombra
Cadance sipped her tea thoughtfully and tried to look poised while sitting on top of an old beach towel that she had spread across the green mountain grass. Fluffy clouds drifted across the sky, sunlight skirting their silver-edged surfaces and coming to illuminate the bag of ketchup chips resting at her forehooves like a sleeping foal or loyal pet. It made crinkly noises when she stroked it softly, cooing to it on occasions when she thought there wasn't anypony watching.
Sombra just glared at her and sipped coffee, mumbling weather complaints between each one.
"So what's the demon topic of the day?" Cadance asked brightly, her smile white and clear in her aunt's sunlight. It also showed off a bit of ketchup chip that was stuck in her front teeth nicely.
Sombra narrowed his eyes even further. "Why don't you try rephrasing that before I even consider continuing this discussion?"
"Yes, Uncle Sombra!" Cadance chirped, quickly withdrawing a chip from the depths of the chip bag and promptly stuffing it in her face as a look of brief contemplation crossed her face. "What is the topic of the day... that just so happens to deal with demons... that we will be discussing on this visit?"
Sombra rolled his eyes at the attempt. "I suppose that's passable. Today, I put together a topic that would have been difficult to explain if you lived in any society other than this Equestria."
Cadance blinked. "This Equestria? Does that mean there were more?"
Sombra's low growl mixed with an annoyed sigh. "I see I'll need to put history lessons in our visits too, my sometimes-apprentice."
Cadance giggled into a forehoof and pointed the other at the small pile of papers that looked as though they were mostly made up of scrawled footnotes in Sombra's legible-but-rough writing. "Is that your research? What's it on?"
Though she was never nearly as bright and witty as Luna, Cadance at least was eager even if she lacked the intellectual edge that Luna and Sombra himself had. She was still nice enough company and a very amusing 'sometimes apprentice'.
"It's not on any of my usual topics since this is by far the least magic-related of all the things we've discussed."
Confusion and a bit of nervous apprehension crossed Cadance's faces. "Is it about how that one place I got pizza from didn't have pineapple as a topping option?"
"No, it isn't. Do you have any knowledge of psychology or any related fields at all?"
Stuffing her mouth with a few extra chips, Cadance smiled and bobbed her head in a nod. Her colorful mane bounced, but didn't hide her glowing horn as her magic reached for the root beer she had pushed of to the side.
"Yeppers," she said through a mouthful of chips and root beer, "I took psychology in my village's high school because I thought it would make me a better matchmaker for my friends. It, uh, didn't. Not by a long shot. I learned a lot about foals though, which certainly helped out later in Canterlot. But I've been curious about the subject since our adventures together - that and being the princess of love and all - so I've been trying to dabble on the subject with imported papers on studies, y'know?"
"Tch. You're free to admit that this nation heavily censors things because Celestia says it doesn't match 'Equestrian morals' and then brushed it under the rug at any time."
Huffing, Cadance chugged the rest of her drink as passive-aggressively as she could manage. "I get it, Sombra hates Equestria, but could we please talk about what you wrote down? I'm a bit morbidly curious on what you wrote down."
"You didn't tell me that ponies have genders."
If Cadance hadn't swallowed her soda, the both of them knew that she would have done a spit-take. "What?!"
"When I possessed Twilight and Luna and looked into the mind of Onyx, I found a part of their mind that I didn't have. It took an incredibly long time to figure out what that was, but it's something that ponies call 'gender' as if it isn't enough for them to just have a sex. When I looked into it more - I've been trying to do as much research on the matter since before our visits began, but it got pushed to the side with the amount of magic-based studies I was doing. Yet the more I looked into what a gender was, the more it was quite clear that it would be impossible for a demon to have one, or just any entity that started out in the non-physical state that I did."
Cadance nodded slowly, but the confusion in her eyes didn't vanish. "Does that mean demons are transgender?"
"No, it means we're - I - am genderless, which explains a couple of things - nothing major, but it's... well, it's certainly interesting. Why would your species even need them?"
"I've got no idea. I'm not the Princess of Genders, Sombra."
"There should be a princess of genders."
Cadance just ignored the remark - answering it would make things far more complicated even for a conversation with Sombra. "If you don't have a gender, then why do you refer to yourself as 'he'?"
"Well..." Sombra cast a quick glance at his papers. "I'm not sure if I'll be able to explain this to somepony as... equine as you. Yes, I know I'm an equine too, but you're just so obviously a pony, to keep things brief. To start: in my most simple form, I'm neither shadow nor equinoid, but a non-physical entity. The first time I was in this form is in the moment of my creation before my equinoid form was finalized. The second is when my physical body was stripped away from me and I was banished - it's part of how I was able to survive being in such a state: it wasn't unnatural for me. I can't slip into it as easily as I can my others, and I haven't figured out a way to slip into it at will. Being in that form isn't being 'reduced' to anything since it'll still be me - just different in how I function in things like communication. Using magic would be very different for me too."
"So then why do you refer to yourself as male, if you don't mind me asking again?"
Sombra looked at Cadance. "Those are two different questions, and I'll answer both for you, Chatty Niece, but don't interrupt me from here on out. Got it?"
She nodded.
"Good. As for your first question: Onyx called me male. From the very beginning of things, he kept refferring to me as 'he' and so forth. From what I could gather at the time, it was something to tell the sexes apart, which seemed simple enough. However, I never understood why you let that bleed into your society so much to the point where you would have two words for the exact same thing or address a creature by whether they were male or female. A lord and a lady are very much the same thing. From the perspective of one who loves to learn languages as I do, I can understand a few uses for this. But just as a living, breathing creature? I don't really grasp the concept that well. I refer to myself as male because I am physically male, that is all. If I needed or desired to, I could try to master very advanced magic that would be able to make my equinoid form that of a mare-"
"Sorry, sorry! I know you said no interruptions, but you could make yourself a mare?!"
Sombra gave a grumpy sigh and blew a lock of his mane out of his face. "Yes. It'd take centuries of practice and don't even get me started about how complicated the matters of chromosomes would be, but I would be able to expend the immense amount of magic to throw myself into the very complicated and advanced - for me, not you; it'd be impossible for you - matter of 'flipping' the sex of my equinoid form - which would also change my voice, of course. For me, this wouldn't exactly be 'natural'... but it wouldn't be unnatural either."
Swallowing a chip sharply, Cadance looked at Sombra with wide eyes. "This is pretty deep stuff, yo."
Flicking an offending tuft of dandelion with his magic, Sombra gave a good-natured roll of his eyes. "'Deep' indeed. Now can I continue without your immensely less interesting commentary?"
"Yesdemon."
Sombra's glare found its pink target. "What was that?"
"You don't like 'sir', so I used 'demon'. Nifty, eh?" Cadance smiled awkwardly.
Sombra kept glaring at her. "No."
"But you call yourself a lord-"
"Only ironically."
"Gotcha."
Sombra cleared his throat. "You had better. Now, your second question is simple: I am physically male, so I call myself male."
"And if you weren't?"
Sombra's eye twitched and he held back the urge to light her chip bag up with dark fire. "Then I'd refer to myself as female if I were physically female. This isn't difficult to figure out if you were to put your candy floss brain to use."
"Hey, I do put my brain to use! Just last night I listened to seven vinyls back to back and debated the meaning of life with Shiny."
"How many bags of cheese puffs did you eat?"
"Gosh, Sombra, I wasn't that high, okay? It was just me and Shiny talking about life and listening to real music-"
"I thought you called it 'alternative'. Now, I'm not that familiar with modern music - or music at all - but wouldn't that mean that there's other options?"
"ALL REAL MUSIC IS ALTERNATIVE!"
A faint eye twitch from Sombra. "I'm sure it is, so just how many times did you devolve into shouting that various dairy products were holograms after rambling about the nature of life according to you?"
Cadance crossed her forehooves over her chest. "I. Wasn't. That. High."
"You were and we both know it."
"I wasn't!"
Sombra smiled as arrogantly as possible at Cadance. "Listen, Mac, we both know that you were absolutely blazed and probably can't even recall half the songs you were listening to last night."
Cadance's head drooped. "So what if I was?"
"I think the real question is just how many bags of chips you have in your saddlebags there." Sombra nodded in the direction of her pink saddlebags. Crystal heart fasteners gleamed in sunlight and dozens of dorky charms jangled as a pink forehoof pushed them out of the way in a pointless attempt to conceal the bulging bags that crinkled with hidden stores of ketchup when she touched them.
"A-A few, I guess, I mean-"
"We both know that's not all you have in there."
"Well, there's some magazines since I was going to browse some of the shops for summer hats-"
"Mac," Sombra said, roguish smile widening, "you know that's not what I'm talking about."
"I-"
"How much?"
"M-More than enough... b-but-"
"But what?" Sombra inquired, raising a knowing eyebrow.
"W-Why do you wanna-"
Sombra laughed, and Cadance found the sound to be surprisingly nice. "Why not?"
Cadance looked up, something like determination in her eyes and she reached into the saddlebags with all the fierceness of the warriors of old, the clang of charms that even most teenage fillies might reject as foalish her battle song, the crinkle of chip bags her war cry.
"Let's do this."
Pri(n)celess [Cancelled]
Author's Notes:
This story was cancelled before I could get more than the prelude out. Sorry! I have a lot on my plate, especially in terms of future stories and working on the epic beast that is Favorable Alignment. Does this mean you won't get to know what happens? No, of course not! I had an outline written for this story so you can get all the notes and other details of the setting in the next chapter that will be published with this one.
Because this wasn't a scrapped story, the events that occurred are still canon to the Iceverse, even if they were never written. Might I come back to this story another day? Yes, it is always possible, but for now it stays here. It's also extremely unlikely. Sorry...
On a side note, the title can be read as either 'Princeless' or 'Priceless', in case anyone was wondering about that. This was also an entry for the Time Action Glory Challenge and inspired by the Imposing Sovereigns contest, though it was never an official entry (had I done so my prompt would have been 'Madwoman Platinum'). Set before the events of the show. Stand-alone sequel. You don't need to read the prequel to understand the content.
I Put The Goddamned Title At The Top Already
Teen|Horsie Kisses|I Give The Fuck Up
Princess Platinum is in mourning after the death of Clover, her faithful companion. But none would know just how deep their bond really was, and it would be a secret that the noble unicorn takes to her grave... among other less-than-noble things.
Princess Platinum, like all of the Unicorn Royalty before her, was a mostly insufferable brat. Her muzzle was always scrunched up with disdain and turned upwards with contempt, but this was not an unusual gait for any who dwelled in the cold, unforgiving stone stronghold that was the unicorn's castle in the near-barren Tribelands.
She stumbled down dim halls after the adults when she could escape her nurse, following in her mother's hoofsteps not because she cared for her - Platinum was a proper filly and was indulged with no silly notions by any of the castle staff, or her mother, Queen Vitalis. She was raised to be a proper unicorn after all. Even at the tender age of four winters old she knew that only three things mattered: the blood in her veins that marked her as royalty, the gold of her family, horn on her head - but not magic, which was a mad notion for those below her since her crown would get her what she wanted.
She heard this and much more whispered in the hall by noblemares and stallions rushing about with servants rushing blindly to their every need, never questioning an order as was proper. Platinum was a good filly, and in her time a good filly was a little filly like her - spoiled beyond belief and rotten to her very core, as cold as the metal for which her and her father before her and his father before him were all named.
Platinum looked like her father too. Her luminous white mane, a trait that named her sire before she spoke his name, grew long and spilled over her withers and brow, helped in part by the long grooming sessions that maids made her endure, brushing out each tangle that they were allowed to keep in their own non-stop, ignoring the young filly's constant cries not to pull so hard. But those ceased after a while, the queen would not have such a noisy daughter and her cold, loveless words made it clear to the young filly - who understood not much at all at her tender age - that she was to obey. She was a proper filly. A good filly. A royal filly. A unicorn filly. All of which were things that mattered, as she was often told. Though, she was never told why, but that was alright, for she never asked.
Her father's coat of silver had not shown in hers, but his watery blue eyes were shared with her. She loved them, even though she had to squint nearly all the time to see anything that was more than a couple hoof-lengths in front of her. But that was okay too, because if she squinted hard enough her mother's pale green coat - rare and to be treasured she was told - almost looked bluish. She hated her coat, and whispered to curses at her hooves when nopony was listening.
It was ugly because it reminded her of her mother. Anything that reminded her of her mother was ugly. She was glad that her mother was not there to hit her like all the other mothers Platinum knew.
She was glad that in Tirek's first invasion, her mother was the most notable victim of his destruction. Yet, this never changed the fact that every time she opened her eyes, she often saw the face of a mare that only lingered in portraits on the halls, a mare she had never met. A ghost no magician could detect, if they believed her at all. A phantom her father, King Tantalum, told her to shut up about lest the court think her mad.
In her chambers, she heard her mother's voice, haunting her and telling her about all the things a good filly would do, her voice as cold as Platinum could recall from the lingering memories of her mother, which were few considering she was only an infant at the time of her death, and even then her mother only wanted to adhere to the proper customs of the court and allow a nurse to see to her daughter, who would have been heir in name only and continued to be so until the death of her mother and her father's near-scandalous choice not to take a new wife made her the heir of the Unicorn Tribe - even if she wasn't a colt.
Her mother liked to remind her of that a lot too - even when ponies where around Platinum. The queen was there to tell her daughter that she should have been a colt. Platinum didn't know why her mother longed for this so much. She was dead. Her stare was cold. Her voice was like the ice of the long winter that her land experienced. Sometimes, the little filly would wonder if she could touch her mother - though she had no reason to - and if she would feel as cold as her voice was.
The days when her mother wouldn't come were the worst. Platinum was often alone then, and she hated being alone even when her mother wasn't there. She would sway back and forth on her hooves as much as her gaudy silk dresses and jewels would allow under cold pressures that she didn't think should be there and achy headaches she liked to imagine were just from her having a horn. It was like when her father told her the crown was a burden, she simply concluded that all this was the burden of being the pure race, the true race and all the other things she was told.
Listen and obey. She did those a lot. The only pony Platinum never thought to obey was her mother, who told her things she wasn't sure how to obey and didn't sound like commands at all.
Princess Platinum was not a scholar. She was not smart, but she was called beautiful countless times, as was proper for mares and fillies to be called. Smart and powerful were words for the stallions. She knew that, but being a princess she knew a fair deal too. She knew that she hated her mother, who made her eyes burn with colors she didn't like before she appeared and watched little Platinum when she wasn't there. Platinum felt cold strokes on her mane when no crown was there, and she knew it was her mother. The bitter taste of something like poor ale would touch her throat after she spoke her mother's name but she smiled to show everypony how much she loved the dead mare who stalked the halls from portrait and told her to listen, listen, listen to everypony and all the things that the queen knew to be true about life. She had been born to the highest gentry and had a marriage arranged with the king, whom she never loved and never would - as was proper - and always loved to remind Platinum of this as a distant scream that was never hers replayed in her mind. Was it her mother's scream? She wasn't sure of that, but she liked it. Sometimes, it would make her feel safe.
She was almost glad that the shadow of the queen - sometimes she thought of her as a shadow when nopony was watching, but that was almost never - took such pleasure in tormenting her. It meant she had a heart. Somewhere. Probably.
Like her mother and father, Princess Platinum took to lies easily. What pony didn't? Lies were everyday, common among both the wealthy and the poor, and almost required. They were a basic part of speech, like all the other things she was supposed to memorize from the tutors who didn't quiz her all that well at times. She heard them talk about how she would have been better off a colt, but that was okay because most of the time she didn't hear them. She avoided the cane and always stared straight ahead. At the lesson.
But that was a lie too. She really didn't like lessons all that much. Instead, she preferred to stare as calmly as possible at her mother, who sat there. She attended every lesson, her hard look of disapproval always boring into Platinum.
It didn't matter. Things were okay. Lots of things were okay. Many ponies were okay.
Platinum just wasn't one of them.
Pri(n)celess [Cancelled] [Outline]
Author's Notes:
This is totally related to the other something other right here. Read it. And forgive me if the tone of these notes isn't always serious.
I Put The Goddamned Title At The Top Already
Teen|Horsie Kisses|I Give The Fuck Up
Princess Platinum is in mourning after the death of Clover, her faithful companion. But none would know just how deep their bond really was, and it would be a secret that the noble unicorn takes to her grave... among other less-than-noble things.
Story Summary/Draft Notes:
-The age difference between Clover and Platinum is six years. This means that Clover 'the Clever' was six years old at the time of Tear the Sky Asunder.
-The ponies in the Tribal Era were homophobic. Favorable Alignment is the only story of mine (so far) to highlight this in any way.
-The reason that the Tribes held this particular prejudice is briefly mentioned by a modern Celestia in the previously mentioned story. She's a very unreliable narrator, but in the letter where the topic is discussed she states:
Ponies like that were never hated in the Tribal Era, but they weren't regarded with the same kindness ponies are treated with now. They couldn't have legitimate heirs, which is what everypony wanted back then, so they were shunned to some degree.
Anything marked with those lovely *s will be revealed with the spoiler function at the very bottom of the page if you want to learn the context of that particular spoiler without having to read where it originated from. Had I gone and completed this story, many of these would have been worked into the narration where I could, thus rendering this the best fill-in I could come up with.
Chapter 1: Platinum is five years old, and being read to by her father, the cowardly* King Tantalum, on one of the rare occasions that he decides to spend time with her. As a noble, she'll eventually be taught to read a little, but since she isn't that old** she has not yet been taught. The 'ghost' of her mother watches, showing no strong emotion toward her daughter as the scene unfolds. The story being read to her (Platinum) is a rather twisted sort of fairy tale - think like a morality play, but with propaganda and in the form of a children's book - that reflects the Tribal equivalent of the 'and they lived happily ever after' deal.
But being the Tribes, which is basically ye olde Europe with cartoon horsies it sucks. Since Platinum is still rather young and doesn't quite grasp what marriage is, she manages to inquire into the matter, but in a surprisingly un-inquisitive way that lacks the usual curiosity that makes, like, 90% of children children.
King Tantalum actually bothers to give a bit of a fuck about his daughter and answer her question about the story's depiction of marriage (after all, he plans to marry her off one day, not that she's entirely unaware of this). He tells her about the 'dangers' of love - something the Tribal ponies have none of because they all suck*** - and her father continues to tell her in a really half-assed way because he's seriously not the smartest, but he at least gives an accurate portrait of Tribal bias and explaining why ponies get married in the Tribal Era - heirs, politics, and money.
After his rambling, the king asks Platnium to promise him that she won't fall in love like this is absolutely normal to be asked. He then encourages her to not ask any more questions in the future.
Platinum agrees to both, not seeing - or ever questioning - why she shouldn't. As she does so, the 'ghost' in the background that only she can see offers an eerie applaud.
Chapter 2: Platinum is now eight years old, shallower, pettier, and has to mask further instability due to being 'haunted' by the 'ghost'. She is playing with her dolls in her chambers and decides to have a doll wedding, but as she arranges them for the wedding, she realizes that all her dolls are mares - there's no groom! How can she have her doll wedding now? Should she just quit and demand a servant entertain her? What was the harm in playing though?
Innocently, she tries to rationalize - silently, and to herself - reasons in why there isn't any harm in using a boyish-looking* doll of a mare to be the stand-in for a groom. The 'ghost' queen watches silently as ignorant young Platinum acts out a wedding scene uses her dolls, enjoying herself - though a bit nervously - before that caution fades away. To Platinum, her wedding of two mares feels 'almost right'**.
The queen continues to watch silently as the ignorant filly is discovered by a maid in her play - and there is no mistake in what she is doing. Platinum is harshly scolded for her behavior - the maid knows that this is the only heir to the unicorn throne and that she is the only means of getting 'proper' heirs, as the king has no other foals that he can marry off once they are of age***.
While the ghost still stares on, young Platinum is still confused as the maid repeats what her father told her a few years ago - the 'correct' way to do things - only far more harshly.
Chapter 3: Platinum is still eight years old in this continuation of the last chapter. Her father hears about what happened and though he is displeased, he isn't violent towards Platinum in any way. He lectures Platinum on what is expected of her - after all, she is near marrying age - and essentially tells her how her entire life is supposed to go, according to his pretty much set in stone plan that was decided before she was even born.
Young Platinum manages to lie her way out of any kind of punishment or suspicion and gets her cutie mark - a mirror that reflects* her surface deep personality, deception, and inability to question the world around her, thus being willing to live a lie - while her father falsely praises it as a mirror of truth.
His mood changes a bit and he talks excitedly about her her first servant - a rite of passage for any proper noble. The 'ghost' agrees as soon as her father talks about a possible hoofmaiden in Clover 'the Clever' - a 'student'** of Starswirl the Bearded's.
Chapter 4: A ten year old* Platinum meets a sixteen year old Clover 'the Clever'. The latter is fretful, spastic, and awkward as well as incredibly meek. She is very paranoid (but never can explain why she is) and has been used in some of the (largely fruitless) magical experiments, leaving her very scatterbrained and a bit of a lunatic, but still functional enough to serve the princess.
Platinum doesn't really like her at first - she's only a servant - but finds herself steadily growing infatuated with Clover - an experience she hates and fears in good measure.
Chapter 5: With no other more eloquent way to put it, Platinum tries to deny her infatuation with Clover, both a servant and a mare. She does nothing to give herself away as a gay horse, but that doesn't make her life much easier.
Her mother's 'ghost' grows worse and Platinum only begins to just hide her madness at times. She gleefully indulges the bitchy side of her that only grew with age by viciously taunting a younger Luna and Celestia on the occasions they are brought to the castle by Starswirl.
Eventually, Platinum overhears discussions about potential marriage to a noblestallion. This drives her to have a breakdown in her room, right in front of her mirror, smashing it as the 'ghost' taunts her even more than usual.
She is found by Clover, who fetches her disappointed father. He refuses to do anything about the episode other than deeming her unfit for marriage. Her 'madness' (which Clover and Tantalum only observe the aftermath of) is kept secret and brushed under the rug.
Platinum is fourteen years old.*
Chapter 6: Platinum and Clover set off and 'find' 'new' land* for the Tribes to live in and call home. The 'ghost' still bothers her, but not as much as when she spends time around Clover, whose company she actually enjoys, even if she still treats her like a very low servant.
Before she leaves, Platinum gives Starswirl a payment of books (something Platinum sees as useless) from an old archive** in the castle as payment for him agreeing to poison her father. Among them is the Book, which Starswirl opens and proclaims blank. He tries to argue with her to take it back, saying that he'd rather have her as his bride than a cache of old hoarded knowledge. She manages to get him to take the books - and the Book*** - anyway.
After Clover, Pansy, and Smart Cookie save the rest of the founders from the windigos, Platinum gets a moment alone with Clover and gives her a kiss, which shocks the ever-nervous and meek Clover, who is in fact, asexual aromantic****. She still agrees to personally swear her undying loyalty (not that she would have had a choice otherwise, as a servant) to a very heartbroken and ambitious Platinum, who is now twenty two***** years old and as bitchy as ever.
Epilogue: In the Forte* in Canterlote**, Platinum mourns Clover's death***, while preparing wine - that she has poisoned for the occasion. As she goes about this, it is revealed that she was a very surprisingly heartless and stern ruler who continued to obey tradition**** instead of making much of any real civil progress that would eventually be made by Celestia and Luna*****.
Even though she always treated Clover like a servant - and despite her love - not a particularly influential one either - she barely showed Clover any real love other than a vain fascination of some kind over the years. She is old-ish****** but her age is not specified.
Through the narration (which never switches to first person) she announces that she will see Clover by morning. Suddenly frantic and displaying something other than coldness for the first time, the panicking 'ghost' tells Platinum that it loves her.
Platinum expresses nothing beyond saying 'I do not'******* before drinking the wine.
Footnotes:
Chapter 1:
[1] In chapter six of Asunder the king, Tantalum, more or less lets his wife die.
[2] Tribal ponies didn't live very long, no matter which Tribe you were in, so their perception of age isn't a very good one.
[3] They're more or less all racist, dystopia dwelling, prejudice peddling imbeciles with far too much power for their own good - power that they use to oppress themselves and their neighbors (the other Tribes) as well as fuel numerous civil wars.
Chapter 2:
[1] This doll would have likely been a warrior mare, a rarity to the unicorns, but common among the other Tribes. However, this doll wouldn't have been anything other than a unicorn mare - so all Platinum's dolls would have been like an intentionally very racist version of horse Barbie.
[2] She's gay.
[3] Basically a ten year old. In the Tribes a pony from 8-10 would have more or less been considered an adult and married off. But just because the pony was now an adult in the eye of the Tribe ponies didn't mean they had any rights or say in their future - it was all a matter or power and tradition.
Chapter 3:
[1] Her talent is actually lying - the perfect cutie mark for any future politician!
[2] Clover is a live in servant for Starswirl and has been since she was a young filly. She knows only a little more than the average unicorn in magic (considering how stupid they were, this would be considerable) but is otherwise very weak and unable to do magic. She has no say in her life and what will become of her. If she were alive today, Clover would certainly not be 'clever' but more along the lines of - for lack of a better term - magically retarded.
Chapter 4:
[1] She's marrying age now! Oh no! She's also an 'adult' and will be treated as such by the servants, however she still has little, if any, say in anything until she becomes a queen or manages to get any sort of power for herself - which is nearly impossible since her husband would be the one to inherit the Unicorn Throne, not her.
Chapter 5:
[1] According to most ponies of the era, Platinum should have had at least one foal by this age, so her being unamarried still would be extremely strange.
Chapter 6:
[1] They're simply returning to the southern land their ancestors fled so long ago, during the Collapse, when all was ruin and wasteland as far as the eye could see.
[2] Ponies with access to this kind of knowledge (which would be very lacking and mostly medieval 'science' and 'magic' about the alleged workings of the world) would be in a purely superstitious and ornamental position with little actual value in Tribal society. Being paid in books - most of which would only offer a testament to how dumb the Tribes were - would almost be insulting, unless you were a sorcerer who tried to work on your own magic (as successful or silly as that would be) but those would be largely nonexistent.
[3] The exodus Luna and Celestia lead in Through the Snow was some years after the events in this chapter and before Onyx was under Starswirl's 'care'. The founders would have set up a camp and tried to establish a base for a few years before sending somepony back to rally the other Tribes for an exodus and prepare for the massive amount of travel that would have to be done.
[4] The Tribes would have no word for this, and it would be frowned upon, but if Platinum's sexuality were brought up, Clover's asexuality would be forgotten - though not considered a 'lesser evil' to the corrupt Tribes.
[5] An unmarried and foalless pony at her age would be jaw-drop inducing shocking to other ponies.
Epilogue:
[1] The meeting place of the former Tribes, now known as the Equestrian Triarchy, made up of Hurricane, Puddinghead, and Platinum. What, did you really think that Clover, Pansy, and Smart Cookie would get anything other than ornamental positions as 'advisor'? They didn't.
[2] The city that the former unicorn Tribe chose to establish. The pegasai and earth ponies had their own main cities too.
[3] See The Symphony of Dawn.
[4] Right now, those two would be living in the Everfree Castle. They would be in charge or raising the sun and moon now, but have no political power and be rather reclusive (yes, even Celestia). Despite this, ponies would still be able to see them, if they made the journey. There would have been parties thrown by Celestia at the castle then, so they weren't completely withdrawn. When the events of Spare Him His Life roll around, they would be sought out as advisors to rule in times of crisis or champions to be called upon to do what no mortal could. Their titles of 'Princess' are solely a formality at this point, but they still act as defenders of First Equestria. Only after Discord's fall would they take the throne for themselves.
[5] Platinum is in her 40s-70s, most likely.
[6] She'd likely be using a majestic plural.
Celestial Coloring [Drabble] [Minific]
Author's Notes:
A very short drabble about a young Tia. Not much to say for this one, really.
Celestial Coloring
Slice of Life|Everyone
Celestia makes her first friend. Maybe.
Her bobbed pink mane swished softly in the beams of sunlight and summer air pouring through the window far above her tiny white body, where even her young wings could not take her. She was barely old enough to flap them in mock-flight, but she still fluttered them in agitation.
Celestia's magenta eyes looked down at her drawing - a completely nonsensical and incomprehensible array of lines drawn in clumsy thick crayons that had to be held by her toddler hooves since her magic only came in small spurts, all of which were too weak to accomplish anything.
Maybe it was a castle - there was certainly a lot of gray in one large slab shape that might have been a foalish interpretation of her home in the Everfree Forest she had yet to ever see. The little filly had barely seen the gardens themselves, and that was because she had a habit of losing her shiny mane clips and crying when her mother and father couldn't find them. It wasn't her fault that she only liked to play in the flower beds instead of climb the big, scary trees that her perfect picture couldn't have.
She had colored what was definitely a sky in perfect pink, and the liberal use of that particular color to replicate her favorite hour - dawn - clearly demonstrated that it was her favorite.
In front of the maybe-castle on surprisingly neat-looking grass, three shapes half-stood and half-floated on the ground. Celestia was never going to grow up with the ability to draw more than a basic oval-petaled flower, but at least she had put her heart into scratching out three Alicorn shapes with crayons that she also liked to hold in her mouth when nopony was watching.
Sure, she accidently gave her father, High King Noctus - a god who was loved and feared - five legs instead of four, but she tried. And she may have drawn her own mane far too long - she wanted to grow it out! - but her circle-and-stick picture self at least looked like equine instead of eldritch.
Lumina, prophetess and god-queen of the realm had never looked more ugly than in her daughter's drawings. Her tall legs were sky-scraping stilts, though she was shorter than her husband. Her slender frame was completely marred and instead replaced with a large sphere for her body and head. A crude face, horn, wings, mane, and mark adorned it and her swishing tail made burnt broom bristles look lovely. Celestia thought the version of her mother that she had so proudly put onto paper was very nice. Her mother was with foal, but Celestia didn't really know what that meant because she didn't see any other foals. That new brother or sister that she was promised hadn't appeared at all. Perhaps it was in revenge that Celestia decided to draw her mother like she were a blimp.
Yet the world wouldn't know what evil schemes ran through her head as she grinned widely, admiring her work.
Why?
Because at that moment something landed on the paper that Celestia's feeble magic aura held.
She dropped the portrait of her family, eyes wide as though she had seen the end.
"MAMA! SPIDER!"
History is Written by the Victors [Cancelled] [Outline] [Notes] [Hopefully Something Interesting]
Author's Notes:
I usually don't share ideas that I've scrapped before they even meet my keyboard or notebooks, but this felt interesting enough and is technically still canon to the 'verse that I feel I should share it. Also, I technically did write this down in a notebook so it didn't die that fast.
Anyway, here's some difficult to tag shit that might actually interest you folks!
Goddamned Title is at the Top
Tags|Go|Here|Idiot
I honestly can't think of a good summary for a story-thing that's in this state.
Just what ponies know about history in the 'verse is surprisingly little in reality. Why? Historians, the horse equiv. of an anthropologist, and other scholars of that sort wouldn't be plentiful or without having to operate under restrictions. Why? First, because the past is largely lost. To seek out the land that the Tribes once lived in is a grueling quest that basically no one - not even ponies or other creatures outside of Equestria would want to do and because the place where the Tribes lived is now a frozen deathtrap that's very far away, windigo-infested, buried under more snow than, like, twelve Canadas and completely unlike all terrain in the rest of the world now to the point where it'd probably have some glaciers to go with those windigos. Seriously, fuck windigos. This means that attempting to research anything in a just-barely-qualified-as-a-civilization-but-you-tried graveyard (there'd be mass graves up to whazoo if anyone did find anything) that couldn't even build a wooden chair to last is in very big trouble since very little would be preserved and the ponies or whatever creature that decided to go there is now just performing overly elaborate suicide.
The only creatures that would stand a chance against windigos would be an Alicorn, a demon, or a draconequus - all which are technically endangered in a very literal sense.
This means that the sole source of history over pretty much all of Equestia's existence has been Celestia.
Now it's not surprising ponies don't know too much that doesn't just get washed into legends and fairy tales if it's anything before her solo reign. Only lands outside of Equestria would have any thriving historical knowledge - mostly Aquastria because it survived the Collapse and doesn't have a ruler who'd limit what knowledge gets out so drastically.
This is where the story idea came from - the phrase that was the working title and just how stupid Equestrians would actually be if you took a good long look at the history texts that they would have had. Or at least the primary ones.
And it would have been in the form of Celestia's memoirs.
You'd think that would be pretty informative, wouldn't you? Not really. She's covered up the truth in almost anything and everything. Since there'd be things like how Luna was written out of history, it'd almost look as though Celestia is writing historical fanfiction compared to what actually happened. From these kinds of books, Equestria's historians would have written what they considered accurate history texts - the ones that filly Twilight would have studied from her earliest years - and history would be based around the goddess Celestia. She'd be the primary source that all textbooks would be based off of, with only a little research elsewhere. Whether knowingly or not, researchers and historical scholars would be finding evidence to support the skewed claims of Celestia, even if it was unintentional or subtle as they were completely oblivious to the ripple effect of mass ignorance they were creating. Even going to another country wouldn't help that much since Celestia would have kept things compatible enough that no major divergences would be known. Lack of communication with all southern nations at the time of Equestria's founding would have left things like Luna's existence surrounded in myth and many mysteries to the point where she'd have been a hushed 'maybe' in the few scholarly circles that debated her and other things, suspecting that Celestia might not be telling the truth.
A more in-depth example would be this: Luna's existence would have been recorded pre-NMM but not as heavily as Celestia herself. She was a largely reclusive figure and often referred to as Celestia's shadow. She wouldn't have left the kingdom often, but might have been seen in battles on borders or in the wilds. Her dream-walking was non-existent at the time, so the only confirmation of her existence at the time of post-NMM would have come from the mere footnotes of possible records that gave her passing mentions pre-NMM that would have been smuggled out of Equestria. There would also be legends of battle and such, but other than those legends and notes, nothing at all. All this would lead to large debates within niche historical groups about who she was, if she existed at all. Luna, to these ponies, would have been something like a William Tell (fake/folk hero/possibly based on something real) or Pocahontas-like figure (real but life is largely just folk myth at this point, etc.). Even then, Nightmare Moon still would have been more popular in myth than her. Where Luna would be reduced to a few papers and dusty pamphlets of debates, Nightmare Moon would have been a pop culture icon compared to what would be known of Luna.
So this story would have been written as though it were one of those memoirs and posted here. It would highlight all the deviations, alterations, and outright fabrications that Celestia made when she literally re-wrote history after Luna was banished. Some of it would even read like a moral fable at times since no matter how fake the text is, Equestrian history does have mythological undertones no matter how seriously or professionally a re-telling is written.
Each part would have been written in about 600-ish word chunks from the point of view of the sole Princess Celestia.
Here's the parts that were going to be wedged in:
-Celestia says very little about the Collapse. While nopony, not even the southern nations, would know exactly what happened to the Old World and the Alicorns, the south would be more educated on Alicorns (knowing there had been more and such) than Equestria, who despite not outright denying this, would be willfully ignorant in their Celestia-centric devotion and society. They'd have no idea about the Old World or old technologies since anything they'd have from before Old Equestria (Luna and Tia before NMM) and First Equestria (the unified Tribal Triarchy) would have been from the Tribal Era itself. Nopony would really think about anything before that, and anything that an older incarnation of Equestria might have been given in trade from the south (Old World influenced tech and such) would have just been dubbed a 'southern way' or part of southern culture.
-Instead of writing the Tribesponies as they were - vicious, brutal, backwards, ignorant, and heavily prejudiced to the point of everyday dysfunction - Celestia wrote the Tribes as they appear in things like Hearth's Warming plays (who would have gotten their 'facts' from the very texts the Princess wrote) where they only appear as a bit stubborn, foalish, unfriendly, and simply unwilling to follow a 'friendship is magic' dogma so they'd come across as very tame and outright babyish in compared to what they really were: a destructive clump of three dystopian societies sharing the same living space in a post-Collapse world, closed off in every way.
-Equestrian ponies would never learn that they were technically living in a post-apocalyptic world so that any little pieces of ruin or who-knows-what that might have been discovered when building things (not that any might remain now, it'd just be so unlikely) would have just been dismissed as something along the lines of an old castle and destroyed. Thus, Celestia's word would have indirectly led to a lot of Old World evidence being 'cleaned up' in order to support her claims of there never being one.
-Her rise to power and the prejudice of the Tribes would have been altered significantly. Instead of being an almost-slave who became a ruthless (but not murderous or anything duh) politician who weaseled her way to a crown for her and Luna and enough favor to keep them from getting usurped when the time came she would have written herself as helpful stranger type, wandering and teaching ponies about friendship and living a humble life as a young mare. Things like that.
-The personalities of Starswirl and all the Founders would have been rewritten entirely, and so would their roles in the Founding, which would have been way more like an accident and magical surge put together and not much more (right place, right time sorta deal), would have been made into moral symbols. Only Starswirl, who left basically no record would be mostly unchanged, but that would only be because of how almost-anonymous he is. The other Founders would be described vaguely - their personality would most be wrought from collective and wholly inaccurate legends that popped up - all based on Celestia's words.
-Discord is very much a fairy tale in Celestia's history books and his legend is altered significantly to exclude Luna. She may have appeared on things like the stained glass windows in Canterlot, but she'd just be brushed off as a symbol of some kind.
-Sombra, when he appears, would be written off as a graphic epitome of evil and the battle against him in Spare Him His Life would have been written as a Glory-to-Celestia kind of siege, where Celestia, the brave and gallant hero-queen figure leads her good, pure, noble ponies against him. While she wouldn't have written herself as being accompanied by a full-blown army, she'd write a few troops (no more than 100 ponies) with her as they go on a knight's errand to save the crystal ponies. The ponies would be the replacement for Luna, who was able to take the place of legions in fights. In later editions of Celestia's history books, the Crystal Empire and Sombra would be written out entirely, discarded and edited from history as the interest in a glorious paladin queen faded and time moved on. Thus, few remember either empire or Sombra.
-Nightmare Moon is nothing more than a bedtime story, and Celestia herself would write that.
-Celestia would write that she fought a young version of Tirek alone* while writing Scorpan and Starswirl as friends and herself as a gallant hero who prevails. Luna isn't present.
*The book that has Luna in it during season four would be very, very rare. Any books that still featured her and any legends of her would stop being made in Equestria after a few centuries of Celestia's rule, making such things priceless or custom, foreign made texts shipped to sneaky illegal collectors. She'd be reduced to legends and fairy tales where she popped up at all, but that wouldn't stop things like all such books being locked away in obscure royal archives so that few ponies (read: trusted confidants to Celestia and Twilight/other Faithful Students) could access anything like Predictions, from the season one opener. Everything else would have been burned... but not when anypony was around. Anything else - the one or two copies that did survive - would have to have been handed down through generations, and very, very lucky - like in Golden Oaks - but mostly, those kinds of books would have been burned by Celestia in private.
Favorable Alignment [Oops] [Drabble] [Omake]
Author's Notes:
So in typing the really long 47th chapter of FA I kinda noticed a thing. So Sombra likes coffee. He likes it a lot. There's stories in the future that involve characters like him and such, yeah? So that means he picks up some new habits. Now, when I was writing some parts of this I was super spaced out between paragraphs. Or distracted. Or all sorts of things that lead to a teeny bit of 'this belongs in a future fic, you dolt' getting into the final version of the chapter. Oops indeed. So, I've fixed that and since there really isn't anything that is definite where this might be stated and its totally canon that Sombra would do this, I've dropped this bit here for people to look at and stuff. After all, this is MP&SF, where I can put anything from bite sized stories, outlines, character pieces, and gods know what else.
It's also a nice quote.
Favorable Alignment
Teen|Romance|Adventure|Drama|Gore
Gods cannot die, so what happened so long ago that ended in the total collapse of Pre-Equestrian civilization?
After many years of unspoken tension mixed with isolated peace, those that remained have received the cryptic message many never wished to see. When such events unfold, Princess Luna recalls a desire she thought she had all but buried and leaves Equestria without a word, only to be followed by the enigmatic and arrogant Sombra.
Now Luna and Sombra - whose enigmatic ways have remained undecipherable to every princess so far - try to use what knowledge they have to save the world and themselves.
If ponies or any other damned species knew how much energy it took not to murder every barista who manages to screw up a bloody demon lord ordering black coffee in broad daylight by casually holding them at sword point and threatening the lives of everypony they hold dear - including their ailing grandmother, I do my research - then they would consider me the nicest thing to ever exist because that is one of the world's simplest tasks. I'm a busy demon, I can't always be shoplifting coffee makers when harassment is an option. Baristas may be the bravest thing I know next to Luna but they're far from the smartest species on this planet.
Today Cadance Learned [Drabble] [Silly] [Friendshipping] [Minific]
Author's Notes:
I really like these two. And writing them. And stuff.
Today Cadance Learned
Everyone|Slice of Life
Luna is a strange mare, and Cadance is only now just starting to see how strange she is when Luna mentions the unthinkable.
Cadance could only blink in response. What else could properly convey her confusion?
"Is there something wrong?" Luna asked, cocking her head to the side and staring at the younger mare with a look that made Cadance think of the owls in the woods surrounding Wispgrove.
"Kinda...?" she finally managed, her breathing calmed with the wave of her pink forehoof and an outstretched foreleg - an old trick of hers. "But could you repeat yourself? Please, Luna?"
"Why?" She had a thoughtful but concerned frown on her face.
"I wasn't sure I heard you right, that's all." If her words were not convincing enough, Cadance hoped her smile was.
Luna's frown deepened slighlty, bearing subtle traces of skepticsism. "Very well then. All I said to you was that I did not find spiders to be frightening. In fact, I think them to be very adorable and have kept thousands over the years. The smallest were only slightly bigger than my hoof you see - and that was just their body. The Everfree Forest was filled with spiders as big as the average filly. I loved to play with them and pet their fuzzy bodies - they were just the sweetest things!" She grinned at the thought. "And there might still be some there."
Cadance made a faint 'meep' of fear at the thought of there being spiders the size of children - which she did find adorable. "Hey, Luna?" she whispered.
"Oh, yes?" Luna looked at her innocently, a faint smile still adorning her muzzle.
"You're weird."
Luna's expression did not waver. "You are most observant."
Don't Make a Deal with a Demon [One Shot]
Author's Notes:
So, I’ve wanted to write Discord and Sombra for a while, and had the perfect chance for another little skit-like story set post Favorable Alignment starring the two, and showcasing some more examples of me writing Discord in first person. He’s hard to write no matter the perspective. Anyway, here’s a thing.
Don't Make a Deal with a Demon
Teen|Slice of Life
Discord attempts to make a new friend.
I just couldn't wait any longer. I had never liked waiting - never ever. Being a statue? That only made me dread any time I had to wait for anything even more. I have an eternity to do everything, so why would I ever want to spend any minute of it staying still unless I had to? That was just such a dull thought.
But I had to see him. I saw him once before. Or maybe twice? And now he was little Luna's 'lover'. Oh, the way she puts that is so cheesy. Luna, suddenly a sap? The world really had ended! Forget what the rest of the Pantheon said, the day Luna falls in love - that was the day we were all doomed.
I saw him and he didn't look like much. Dark and brooding? Yawn. Thought I can't be too surprised. Luna is a gloomy sort. Always quiet and off on her own. She's surrounded by so many ponies but she never talks to them. Sometimes she talks to me. She's always close to Celly.
Celly. Tia.
Celly. Tia.
Hmm, maybe one day I'll finally settle on one.
Cellytia? Hm, no. Celly for now. Maybe I'll call her Tia tomorrow.
But I just knew that I had to meet Luna's mysterious suitor at least once. He was one of the few things she ever spoke about, a pony who managed to catch the interest of the mare I can't see as anything more than a filly. Except he certainly didn't seem like a pony, not one bit.
There was so little I knew about him. He talked very little and glared at everything. Could he not talk? Celly didn't like him - I don't blame her, he always looks so irritated - so he's not likely to ever be a friend of mine. She's always been a better judge of ponies.
This lack of information wouldn't do. Luna was always going out of her way to see him. She never did that for anypony! Not even me, her good old honorary brother, Dissy. I'm hurt, really.
All I had to do to get more was go meet him. How else would I ever learn anything about a pony? Showing up unannounced was the perfect way to surprise him, and who doesn't love surprises?
I couldn't think of any better plan to ponder over a breakfast of assorted cheeses, encyclopedia entries, and those little plastic jacks that ponies just agonize over when stepped upon. To top off such a healthy meal, I just washed everything down with a glass before disposing of that oh-so-pesky chocolate milk. Perhaps one of the plants can eat it? Or even dear Smoozie? They're all here, somewhere, roaming about my god's world of Chaosville. I don't see why the other gods think it so odd to live in a divine world. What other location is would be more fitting for me? None. None at all.
Chaosville vanished around me with a simple snap.
He lived somewhere on Canterhorn Mountain, this Sombra character, and I was going to find him. Just how difficult could it be to find his house? He was like any other pony, right? Silent and royal - I heard that he had been royal. He probably has a villa just waiting for me to perfect.
...
He did not have a villa. Wasn't he a duke or something? The Duke of Canterlot - the one who has topiary shaped like him - lives in a sprawling manor. It is very easy to find and even easier to change.
It takes hours to find where Sombra lives. My poor wings!
I would not even call it living - I don't see any kind of shack, or cottage, or anything. There's no building or real marker to boast of an estate. He is already losing Dissy Points. Mysterious royalty should have an equally mysterious house. How could Luna ever want to spend any time with him at all? Celly says that she'll go to see him in all weather.
It looks like a campsite. He just stood in this little clearing place that could be forgotten far too easily. The city of Canterlot sprawled out far below, like he was supposed to look profound or epic - like some sort of king - by standing there with the wind in his mane and the sword gripped in his crimson magic pointed at the throat of the humble draconequus, clinging to the rocks since I had yet to rise and stand above him.
"Is this how you greet everypony?" I asked, staring into those red eyes. The irises almost looked like they were glowing. He wasn't even surprised to see me! Duke Sombra just looked at me, scowling and unfriendly. How was Cadance friends with him? Or Luna in love with him? How did anypony like someone who didn't even tell their guests a joke like I did? He's just...
Mean looking.
"Perhaps," he says, gaze starting to roam. He looks at me in a way much like how Twilight Sparkle observes math problems that she wishes to solve. "What is it that you want?"
"To talk and see what all the fuss is about. New gods aren't something that pop up every day, especially not gods that are fun. I just want to see if you'll be any fun."
Duke Sombra just looked grumpier. "You talked. Now leave on your own, or I'll see to it that you do." He sheathed his sword - it looked to be southern in making, with the curved blade - and lit his odd curved horn. I don't think ponies are supposed to have them.
"Well, aren't you rude. I just wanted to see if you'd like to be my friend. That's what seems to be all the rage these days, don't you think? Wouldn't that be much better then just glaring at me like that? You're almost like Tw-"
"I'm nothing like her," he snaps. "I'd like to think that you have an actual reason to be here other than just whining about the mountain for hours about not being able to find me. Do you really think I couldn't hear you?"
I straightened my posture and righted myself, standing straight up. This usually intimidated ponies. Sombra stood steadfast.
"Well, maybe. You are old, aren't you? Ponies aren't really supposed to live-"
"I'm. Not. Old," he growled through gritted teeth. It was actually just a little bit creepy. I’ve never met a pony who could growl unless I made them, and even they never sounded that vicious.
A breeze blew by, rustling the nice, distracting plants that caught my attention. Most of the plants here were just trees or some bushes and grass that I would have replaced if it weren't for how moody Luna's coltfriend was.
The one plant that didn't quite fit in with the others grew in thick patches, like some sort of weed - even though it was obviously tended. I looked at it curiously from a distance, shifting my gaze between Sombra and the strange plants. I have never seen one of these kind before. They looked a bit like ferns.
"So you're Loony's coltfriend, hmm?"
"Yes," he grumbled. “It’s only been on every tabloid.”
"You two must be a very moody duo. Just what is it that you like to do?"
"Like I'd tell you." He flipped his mane a bit and looked to the side momentarily, rolling his eyes.
"Is that your garden? You don't strike me the green hoof type."
He lifts an eyebrow. "You can call it that."
"Why don't you grow something better than ferns? Like flytraps! Such lovely, delicate things."
He gives me an unwavering, flat stare. "Those aren't ferns, and they're for a friend."
"Do you speak in anything but that 'I want to be elsewhere' tone? C'mon what's wrong?"
"You."
"Oh," I said with as much of a comical, huffy tone as I could muster, "Is that how things will be between us? Surely, you can tell your Uncle Dissy something about all the horribly angsty things on your mind?"
"Give me a break. Don't you have somewhere more mundane to be? Ponies to consort with? I can't believe that you're honestly expecting to get anywhere with me."
Huffing again, I stroll over to his strange little garden cheerfully in order to counteract his gloom. I don't think that there's much more to him other than just watching my every move with those strange eyes. Perhaps I should put in a word with ol' Celly about the company Luna has been keeping. She's been so much happier these days, but how can it be from him? I'm happy to be with any friend of mine and Celly is happy in the company of almost anypony - he's one of the few exceptions. But it's hard not to worry about Luna if she's only ever happy around somepony like him. I'm not going to try to make sense of it - ah, what a nasty thing. Sense is Celly's job.
Kneeling down, I pluck a few leaves from Sombra's strange plants and hold them in the palm of my paw. Look at me, worrying about a friend that I never thought I would have again. I don't laugh - it's a joke, but not a laugh out loud joke - but I chuckle a little.
Sombra watches on, stoic and undeniably dull to me, his eyes trained on my paw. I have no doubt that he is planning something.
"Is this poisonous?"
"No."
Sombra's expression is hard to read. He's looking at me like I should know something very obvious, even though I am not a botanist. Perhaps Fluttershy would know something about this plant. Animals and plants aren't so different, I think. Especially when my magic is done with them. Celly might know too. After all, tea is just somepony dumping plants in water to make it taste differently. I wonder if she'd like if I brought her some of this to put in her tea.
Well. She might. I toss a bit of it in my mouth and watch Sombra recoil. How odd for somepony known as Sombra the Mad. I was expecting more from him. Maybe he's like one of those 'mad' ponies who just hurts others, mopes, or sees things. Duller things like that.
I toss a couple more of the leaves into my mouth, and Sombra looks on, his left eye twitching.
"What? I'm only having a snack."
"That's-"
"Oh, it's what? Can I make a salad with this? Or a sandwich? Do you think that this would go nicely with cucumber sandwiches by any chance? You see Fluttershy and I-"
He cuts me off with a brusque wave of his armored hoof. "You know what? Why don't you just take a bushel, and you can eat it all yourself or distribute it to however of your friends you want. Consider it my treat."
I paused mid-chew. "You're just going to give this to me?"
"If I let you take some of this, will you leave me alone indefinitely?"
He is kind of boring... and I was getting something out of it, even if he didn't want to be my friend. It looks like Twilight Sparkle will be getting another envelope full of eels in the mail instead of a friendship letter that Fluttershy only edited of course and no, no Celly did not co-author a single one. Shh. Luna's 'bad stallion' phase coltfriend could go be mopey and moody somewhere else. He doesn't realize that I'm getting the most out of this bargain.
I swallowed the rest of the plant. Ugh, that taste could certainly improved. Paper and plastic had such fine flavors and foil was a rare treat... but this? Without my magic, it's just a work in progress, I suppose. Only the world's laws can limit me and my random powers.
I extend my now-empty paw to him. "Deal?"
Sombra stares at the limb. Doesn't he know to give a simple shake? I hold my paw out further but he still does nothing.
"Deal."
Untitled #1 [Scrapped] [Unfinished]
Author's Notes:
In 'Enemy of Mine' I had a portion of the prologue where Celestia was recalling a bit about the founding of Canterlot and why the city is the way it is. I liked writing that bit so much, I wondered if I could write it out as its own story, so I tried. I didn't like what I ended up with and liked how I presented the information in EoM much better, so this stays as a scrapped first draft (one that would've needed some Early Modern English too). Anyway, I thought I'd share.
Everyone|Slice of Life|I'unno
Sturdy Foundation was a very unimportant pony. He knew this, and did not mind, because there were many unimportant ponies. The only thing about him that was even close to noteworthy was that the doublet he was currently wearing was stitched with the image of Celestia's sun along the sleeves, and in fine gold thread that was fitting for a unicorn with a profession such as himself. And why would it be anything but the sun? The sun was iconic! There was no greater image, than perhaps the goddess herself, who needed 'We' above 'I' to convey even a fraction of her immense power and soul to those she ruled, all below her.
But Sturdy Foundation was an unimportant pony, with a name as boring and forgettable as he was. He had always accepted this, but he never gave it any real thought. There was no reason to.
It was everything except that hint of gold thread that caused him to blend in with his world. Canterlote, the city of stone, the City carved within the very 'flesh' of the mountain like pegasai worked clouds, drowned all out with its gray buildings, few which surpassed even six stories. It was a place that when not illuminated by werelights, was plunged into crooked shadows - but everypony knew that werelights and illumination were needed to force the night away, with all its mooncalves and foulness.
Even in the dawn, Foundation was devoured by slices of shadow that seemed to pour from the uneven and rough cobblestone streets, built with the labor of many slaves, for it was built in the First Equestrian Period, when the goddesses were two noble mares who lived in the woods and 'Princess' was an ornamental prefix to their names, for Platinum, Hurricane, and Puddinghead still ruled in unity then, governing the Tribes that had been united for over two hundred years now. Anypony who knew anything about Platinum knew that she was fond over the labor of slaves, something Equestria's goddess abolished. Now, ponykind was left with serfs.
Foundation gulped. He had no right in the presence of this goddess, for she was what granted him anything at all, but the morning air was cold and only increased his nerve. Even though there was a pomander tucked within his fine jacket, who knew what vile traces of the night hours still tainted the air?
He clutched the large sheets of paper that made up the bundle he was carrying to his chest, and took a few steps forward - how bold! - so that he stood in a patch of sunlight. All around him were walls of gray stone, still properly segregating everything. Grass, kept in control by the effort of many gardeners crunched underhoof. Oh gods, he was walking on the grass! Yet his errand was so urgent, would he be forgiven? This was royal property, after all, with the castle within the Everfree destroyed.
His horn glowed as he pressed the papers to his chest even more tightly. What he had been presented with couldn't be right. It simply couldn't. He wasn't the master Royal Architect, but even he can see when something was wrong with the plans that the Master had been presented with. Was somepony impersonating Celestia? Who would dare attempt to make choices for the great goddess as though they were her? The very thought had Foundation's stomach churning and his body chilled.
Maybe if he had been attentive, he would have picked up on a sound before he entered the Canterlote Gardens, with rigid, orderly borders of hedges that seemed to be even more austere than the stone. He could have heard of the slight burble of plain fountains and water splashing against stone - gray stone, of course. This was a gray city, with streets of sprawling stone veins that had little, if anything, between each building, mines and caves of crystal barely below it all, and tombs of the same stone - the only real art in the city other than a few rather modest towers - that carried rumors of ghosts now and then, when the magic in the night air was particularly potent.
So, maybe if the stallion who rushed about as best as he could, stumbling about here and there and trying not to fall and have his head dashed against the cobbled path, he would have heard the princes-goddess Celestia before he dared to approach her.
He was supposed to meet him in the orderly, but small array of hedges that was trimmed to perfection and housed a few statues, including a rather ghastly depiction of the monstrous draconequus Discord, who felled First Equestria, appearing shortly after Princess Platinum's death, only to be defeated by Princess Celestia in her war.
Foundation had not been there, of course, but he heard the stories: Princess Celestia, after an unsuccessful slew of attacks on him, ended the bloody affair with the usurper by wielding the newly-discovered Elements of Harmony! It was impossible not to admire their goddess for her efforts to ensure harmony in the land.
Foundation did not hear the sound of what was an uncharacteristic sound to even be thought of coming from Princess Celestia: hoarse whispering, as though some kind of gross sobbing had been occurring not long before.
While nopony else had been in the gardens lately, Foundation was sure that whatever he could've heard wasn't her at all. Princess Celestia was an empathetic mare, and cared for all good ponies. She smiled and laughed openly. In the events of sadness, she responded appropriately, and there would be tears shed, trickling down her face before being properly wiped away. She was not aloof, reclusive, unfriendly, or in any way unsocial. She was only distant because she was above everypony.
Perhaps the sound was some kind of leftover night-magic. Foundation looked to the sky, noting that even though it was not there, the moon would've still borne the new scars that had appeared three sunrises ago.
Ponies had rejoiced then. They thought it meant that the things that plagued them in the night would be gone: bad dreams, monsters, unbearable darkness, hidden evils, and the taint and other afflictions it could have imprinted upon sensible, good day-walking ponies.
Princess Celestia, in her modesty, had not participated in any celebrations or rumor-spreading that had since been going around Canterlote, and slowly, all of Equestria. Their goddess had triumphed yet again! Another evil was defeated, and she was so humble to withdraw from celebration. The fledgling, ever-fighting southern kingdoms had only inadequate mortal rulers. Equestria had Celestia.
When Princess Celestia was in view of Foundation, her head was bowed to hide the face that was the epitome of Equestrian beauty, and her great mane spilled forth to hide it. If Foundation didn't know better, he would think it was in slight in disarray. Her crown was... no, not fallen. It simply couldn't be fallen. By some rare accident she had dropped it, and it sat upon the dewy grass at her hooves, in the shadow of a pedestal where the image of a monster stood in stone, laughing.
She sat on the ground like she was a common pony, her wings still held tight at her side. Foundation was no featherbrain, but he knew his eyes deceived him when he observed a feather or two that appeared to be out of place.
"Your Majesty," Foundation said, sweeping into the lowest of bows - he was still careful to mind his papers - as he dared to speak to the princess before being spoken to, "I apologize for my careless and bold interruption of your precious time."
He heard the princess take a quiet breath, and a hollow sounding response escaped her. "I pardon you," she said with what could've been mistaken for a weary tone in any other, "and find no offence in your actions. Say what you must, commoner."
Foundation bowed his head even deeper. He was certainly not a commoner, except when compared to a goddess like Princess Celestia, so the reprimand, though in no way blunt - the horror of that thought - was still a scolding that he didn't expect from such a kind mare, but she also didn't know his name, so there was little she could call him at the moment. "Thank you, your forgiveness is of a value that cannot be measured," he replied, knowing that the princess that Equestria loved and obeyed without question was always forgiving of good ponies.
"I have allowed you to speak, then," she said quietly, rising from the ground to loom over him. "You may look upon me," she said with a creaky gentleness - the latter which she showed all her good subjects. Her focus seemed off. What could be distracting such a lovely mare?
Foundation looked upon Princess Celestia and had to hold back a gasp and poorly attempted to wrangle his emotion and keep it in check.
The elegant cosmetics that shaded her eyes and the powders that made her coat even whiter when she needed it to be even more radiant were running down her face and smudged in different places from where they had been applied, making her silky fur look like it was caked with snow or brushed the wrong way. Her eyes were puffy, pink, and moist with tears that still clung in them, and had yet to be rubbed away.
She reached up with a forehoof to gently wipe some of the powder lightly dusting her coat away.
If this were a common mare being so openly emotional... about what, Foundation couldn't really guess, then he would have been a bit disgusted with the display, but since this was Princess Celestia, he couldn't fathom it.
Foundation drew away discreetly and withdrew a hoofkerchief from his sleeve with his magic, and levitated it over to her, eyes lowered from the sight of a saddened Princess Celestia with only her necklace and golden boots. He would've thought with the whispers of celebration concentrated in parts of her kingdom that she would be wearing one of the gowns that she was seen in on such occasions that begged for celebration, where she would stand, smiling brightly all done up in lace and ruffles.
While Princess Celestia was done mopping the runny make-up from her face, Foundation fell into a slight bow before presenting Princess Celestia with the bundle of papers he had carried here from Architects' Hall.
"This was the final design for the city and new palace to be built atop all of this-" Foundation dared to give a small sweep of his hoof to indicate Canterlote, and then he presented the design to the princess, pulling a scroll from his papers. The cracked wax seal with a sun indicated the writer, even if the enchantment in the wax had been broken.
Celestia looked down at the paper. The blueprints were drawn by a pony without much experience in Foundation's profession, but were by no means horrible enough to be unusable. Shown in them was a city unlike any other known to the ponies of the present.
Cold Comfort [Unfinished] [Rarijack] [Friendshipping]
Author's Notes:
So I've had a lot of stories seem to just fade on me for now, but that's because I've been pretty busy, and I've been on and off sick for most of the New Year. Some one shots just don't hold my fancy, I guess?
I wanted to write more about Applejack and Rarity in the Iceverse beyond what I had in 'Truthfully' and have in some upcoming stories. So, while this is related to, but not directly connected toTruthfully. Though, reading it might be nice.
So here's some future!AJ and Rarity conversing with one another over the grave of Applejack's father. It is not a sad story, and it was not going to be a sad story, hell, it wasn't even going to be a drama. Just AJ and Rarity exchanging some plucky remarks and tough-girl sympathy, leading AJ up to a little discussion with Rarity about her mother (who left the family before her father died) and if she might still be alive and what that could mean. Something a little wistful.
AJ has my favorite future of the Main Six, and I'm looking forward to actually getting around to it soon-ish, I suppose.
This was only meant to be a short piece that I had the urge to just write write write because I needed to. I really like playing around with minor Iceverse lore and some of the Main Six and the small details of their futures.
I originally wanted more dialogue, but decided to let the story flow as the story wanted to flow. I can't really work with AJ's accent that easily though.
Also, I like Applejack.
I have other stories with far more demanding words to be written, and as of typing this, some that need revised, but perhaps I'll finish this in a better time. It was awesome writing the death lore of ponies though! :D (If you're curious about pegasai, they'd be doing stuff along the lines of creation. In other stories, I've mentioned that unicorns and crystal ponies entombed their dead (think stuff like catacombs or elaborate tombs) while earth ponies bury them and keep a record (oral or otherwise). Modern burial (as shown in the story) is a combonation of unicorn and earth pony rites.
Also, I fear that everyone writes these two better than me overall, no matter how cool they are and fun to write, haha.
Cold Comfort
Rated T/E|Slice of Life|Too lazy to color shit
One rainy day, Applejack stands out in the cold downpour with something heavy on her mind. Rarity, being the faithful friend she is, decides to visit.
She offers a warmth all her own, and it might just be the kind of warmth Applejack needs on this rather dreary date.
Rain sloshed about Rarity's hooves, soaking into her the fur of her coat and chilling it. She held her breath, only gasping a little when it happened, before daintily chewing on her lip - really, just resting her teeth on the edge of her bottom lip, and carefully so.
While she had been through much worse in her years, feeling mud tickle the frogs of her hooves remained unpleasant. This day, however, she could bear it. Tutting slightly, she pulled the cloth napkin over the contents of her picnic basket a little more, shivering as the fat drops of rain splashed against her white coat.
Maintaining as brisk a trot as she could, Rarity kept the glow of her horn steady and tucked a wet lock of her mane behind her ear. It had not been raining when she set out today, but it was beginning to pour - nothing too heavy, but if she had bothered to mind the word of weather pegasai, she would have caught word of there being a good drizzle in Ponyville.
That drizzle would be effecting Ponyville's cemetery as well. It was an out of the way place, and quite peaceful. Well-maintained headstones dotted what must have been a woodsy clearing generations ago. Many trees had been planted and encouraged to grow along the edges, some of them were apple trees from the ancestors of the Apple family. Rarity could tell by the smell of the fruit wafting through the sticky summer rain.
While a fair amount of headstones were uniform, they all had information on them that made up the most important aspects of a pony's self, the stubborn, unchangeable, and un-discardable something everypony and even the gods themselves had something of. Race, cutie mark, birth and death dates, spouse's name, and the name that stuck with a pony from the moment they were born to the moment they died with little exception all were carved from good, solid stone and enchanted to prevent from damage or time erasing anything.
Variation was what caught Rarity's eye - the shapes, types, and style of carvings held some place in her mind. She may not have grown up on a rock farm, but gem-work was much like stone-work, even if there was no earth pony's magic in her blood and bone.
The most curious of things on these headstones were the small prayers and symbols. When a pony died, no matter what town they were from, and if it was custom to be buried like an earth pony or entombed like a unicorn or crystal pony, then they could have the symbol or a sort of prayer and incantation carved upon the headstone or vault that divided them from the world and detailing a little something about which of the gods they chose to follow most in their heart, or a little something of the entire Pantheon.
Rarity had been here only for a few different occasions, and she had noted things. A seamstress' eye knew detail. Suns were the most common emblem. Moons were only a recent addition, and it was different from the sun and moon banner of Equestria, the sign of being a member of the guard. There were some scattered hearts for Cadance - Rarity's grandmother, who had died when Cadance was still fairly new, had the heart of Cadance inscribed upon her headstone, though it was carved in the style of a sort-of half-god. Cadance was no god any more than Rarity's wife was, so they had carvings but they were different. Smaller, perhaps, and with a different style.
Rarity's eyes continued to pass over the stones, she was looking for somepony alive, not an emblem, but she continued to see more. One had the mark of Discord, his gaggle of strange arrows upon it, then there were other marks, like that of the others: Reapers, the undersea king, and one or two more Rarity's mind did not bother to remind her of at this moment. The knowledge god however, had no marks in Ponyville's cemetery.
The graves of pegasai were few and unusual, for their death rituals were still strange to Rarity, and made no effort to preserve the body of a loved one and offer them a final resting place.
Pockets of sunshine broke through the clouds and illuminated the pony Rarity was looking for in scattered patches, and she made her way past more rows. Humming, she batted at a few raindrops and wished that she might have been more quick to take a few extra magic lessons from Twilight for situations like this, when her umbrella was oh-so-far away.
Through the patches of clouds, sunbeams fell upon Applejack, who stood still in the pitter-patter of rain. Rarity slowed her trot and slowly walked up beside her.
Rain drizzled off strands of Applejack's golden mane, rolling down her back. Her hat was tipped forward and hid her face, and the pitter patter of water falling off the brim was all that sounded between them.
Rarity didn't need to see that the grave before her was for an earth pony stallion named Savory Shaddock. She had known that, she had met him enough times before he had ever ended up in his bed of soil, and the trident and Shell of Plenty of Neptune of Aquastria were carved upon his headstone. He had the palest orange coat, thin reading glasses, clean suits, and so much knowledge of finances and math that he simply had to teach it to Applejack too, when Applejack was a filly who complained about having to wear a Prancian bread for picture day, a sunhat in summer, play kickball far nicer than she was used to doing.
Rarity, then, had just started outgrowing hopscotch, taken to lip gloss, despised her braces, swooned at every nice colt, and never once ate any of Applejack's apple tarts at the schoolhouse bake sale. Not ever.
Today, they were the best of friends.
In fact, they were so close of friends that Applejack didn't let anypony else follow her here. When all the girls still lived in Ponyville, Rarity had to shoo the other four - dear Twilight included - away. They would all say something. Tears would show in their eyes, sympathy would fly from their tongues all at once like birdsong.
Even when Applejack stepped off the train, her scarf around her neck, her parka secure, and green eyes looking at her hometown while her mind wandered back to her family at Crystal Apple Acres and her three foals with shining eyes and coats that grew in leaps and bounds every time Rarity visited Applejack and her family at her thriving homestead. In the years since she moved to the Empire, Rarity had noticed a magical gleam in Applejack's eyes that made them twinkle like emeralds and a faint lustre to her coat - just a touch, really - that was certainly not from more attention paid to grooming.
Applejack liked Rarity to be there, standing by the resting places of Savory, Granny Smith, and other members of Ponyville's branch of the Apple family, not because she would weep and offer up a hundred 'sorries' for Applejack, but because she would sniffle. At most, she would dab at her watery eyes with a hoofkerchief of elegant Maris lace and tuck it back into her little basket as she did now.
She would rest her hoof comfortingly on Applejack's wither, and this time she noted that Applejack had tried to hem the modest gray frock Rarity had made for her three years ago with what was clearly black thread, and it showed.
Tucking her hoofkerchief back into the basket and neatly under the napkin so her hoofkerchief was kept nice and dry, she looked to Applejack, who quietly raised a forehoof and moved it past her freckled face to tuck a bit of her mane back under her hat. It had escaped her single braid, and would have to be arranged so it fit into her green mane tie later. Her green eyes were looking straight at Rarity, for a moment, and then she nodded curtly, swallowing and tipping her hat and letting rain slosh off the brim.
Untitled #2 [Scrapped] [Unfinished] [Poetry]
Author's Notes:
Slight spoilers for Divine Move!
Long before I published my poetry stuffs like Autophobia and the others, in this compilation of otherwise, I decided I wanted to do an abstract little tale back in '16, about the time I was writing 'Divine Move'. I adore the Crystal Ponies, and I really liked the character of Silver Lining to the point I wanted to use her as much as I realistically could.
Deciding I wanted to capture little moments from her life in a standalone side story, I thought some minimal prose would be best, but hadn't exactly hammered out the idea for verse. Using the events she describes in the chapters of Divine Move, I thought it would be nice to pain a picture of her life, even it was plain one, and use the text to try to shape certain things and imitate movement. It didn't really go anywhere, and I've only recently realized that this was still sitting unfinished in my folders. One day, I might come back to it, but apparently, I've tried that before if the dates I've last looked over it (before forgetting it) said anything... so the story sits scrapped, even though, obviously, the events that would have been in it are still canon to the 'verse.
But this is the story that a) didn't even get cover art iirc and b) preceded basically any other poetry I wrote by a long shot. Enjoy!
Untitled #2
Teen|Sad|Dark|How'd I format these again?
According to my notes, the chapters, much like Autophobia and other stories like this, were based around one word themes or imagery as this note snippet says:
"-Swan Song
-Bread
-Catonic
-What Money Can't Buy
Avant-garde poems for Silver Lining's backstory? Not titled?"
1: Swan Song
She walks on hard gray stone.
Tells herself
Just
Another
Step
The midwife trails
So
Far
Behind
Stones wet with snow. Pebble grit EVERYWHERE.
Below
[ENDS HERE]
Pleading Child [Unfinished] [Scrapped]
Author's Notes:
An old one shot that I loved developing and writing, but had to get scrapped. Contains spoilers for some Sombra stuff. This one was made and attempted sometime late in 2016, post-Divine Move, when FA was finally getting in the works and Enemy of Mine was still getting final kinks worked out of its outline and stuff like that. I love writing Sombra and Cadance, and this was meant to be an example of that.
In the historical pre-Sombra empire, it was stated that Onyx had an aunt and uncle he never met. Well, one idea I toyed with was having his cousin be Cadance, born to the Crystalline sister of Swan Song and mixed-heritage pegasus father who lived in the empire, on the edge of the mountains. Then, she was known as Skylark, but only knew a few words, and her nickname - 'Skyla'.
In this story, young Sombra encounters the cabin they have in the Gemheart Mountains and he promptly slays Cady's parents. It's survival for the youth, and he knows that within a small range of days (a week/three days) Onyx will claim his body and begin his part in first taking the Empire. Sombra is scared, angry, and has just had his first encounter with ponies, and must camp out on this woodsy and remote area, with a cabin hiding the bodies of the couple he just killed (and are unknowingly Onyx's family). He stays outside, and the poor guy is pretty hurt. He's left with his mind racing on what could begin to happen to him and his struggle for freedom, as well as how underfed and fairly scruffy he is.
It doesn't take long (literally like the evening after he kills 'Skylark's' parents) to find that there is somepony else with him: a young (she's seriously like three) child who spent all day playing and is eager to see her mommy and daddy... and who's Sombra?
Sombra doesn't like Skyla one bit, and is confused and infuriated by some of her childish behavior that she can't help. Still, he refuses to hurt her and stubbornly keeps her out of her own home, but he absolutely will not have her camping with him. Obviously, she's fit to take care of herself. (She totally isn't.)
Little Skyla needs someone to look after her, and though young Sombra lashes out at her and yells and growls at her (things he regrets within hours) he does try to feed her and keep her from the cold, not fully understanding why Skyla's parents loathed and tried to fight him off initially, since he's a demon, but Skyla (who is a small pure bean) doesn't fear him outright or hate him. (She even wants to play with him, which confuses the poor cat demon considerably!) He still looks at her knowing that she's likely to die no matter how not-terrible-maybe she might be, and that no matter what, Onyx will likely hurt her even more upon a) knowing she's a survivor and b) Sombra likes her.
With that in his mind, Sombra tries to plan a way to save little Skyla, who he moodily tolerates when she pulls on his mane, and tries to hug him clumsily and play with his kitty face. He even allows her to stay close to him for warmth, despite being incredibly uncomfortable with contact from another pony.
On the final day he has with Skyla, Sombra decides to work his magic - literally - and use his äerint to try and entrap her in a kind of protective seal with as much of his power as he can possibly manage to surge at the time. He funnels it and tries to teleport her somewhere he feels would be safe, where he imagines a peaceful forest that he's never been to, but thinks that if Skyla ended up in any place like that, she could be safe and lead a better life, since any fate left for her in the Empire could only be a cruel one. Alone and upset, Sombra waits for what little time he has left to run out, just hoping Skyla might survive, despite him always knowing the reality that he'll never see her again... or so he thinks.
In an epilogue/second chapter, an Istallion couple walking in the woods outside the village of Wispgrove find strange soil and a filly with magical burns. She says little, but 'Skyla' and 'Sabba' (a childish attempt at 'Sombra' that certainly would have brought some mixed feelings to the poor youth hearing it) and is lost, scared, and confused.
...There's no family that can be tracked down for obvious reasons. Not a trace can be found. She's adopted and named Cadenza, with Skyla being something like a sound from memory to her, perhaps an imaginary friend.
The impact this would have had on future stories, had this been canon, would be that Sombra finally realizes Cady is Skylark when she tells him she nicknamed her daughter 'Skyla' because it simply sounded right to her. Obviously having known 'Skylark and 'Cadance' both, he'd be happy to know he gets to see her again and that she's alive and well. She'd be even more of family to him. However, he'd never want to tell her about her birth family and about what only he remembers.
There were a couple ideas that could have sprouted from this that never really became as set in stone or as clear, and I never even had a final title for this. I just put the working title here.
What brought this story down as the sort of killing blow (other than a few other minor things) was how canonically, time displacement kills ponies. Or anything. It happens in Divine Move with Sombra. Unless Cadance was undead, she'd have been actual dead. Oops. How silly of me to forget an important part of my own lore aaaaa.
Enjoy!
Pleading Child
Teen|Dark|Sad|Drama|Gore
He stands in what was once the peaceful living room to a cottage. The walls of were a subdued shade of magenta crystal with round windows,snugly shut with painted wooden shutters that muffled all the sound. The inside was dusty and sparsely furnished by somewhat sad, worn, wooden furniture draped with patchy blankets that probably couldn't handle being passed down another generation. Bright and shiny glass vases held fresh mountain flowers that nodded against the air that slipped through the shutters, as if they wanted to go home and once again be rooted in soil.
A fuzzy woolen rug was kicked at an odd angle in the brief and futile struggle. It was pierced with holes that were occupied by dully shining black crystals.
Everything was splattered with blood, there were flecks on the walls and large pools everywhere. They seeped out of two ponies lying on the ground, their forms were not yet cold.
A mare with a silver coat and pale rose mane and a mark of some sort of grey bird perched among mountain flowers. Mockingbird had been gardening at dawn today, now here she was. Her coat, like the pony next to hers had dulled with her life force. She no longer had a throat to sing lullabies with.
Next to her was her husband, till death do they part. He was a pegasus, although now it was hard to tell since the side pressed to the floor had been savagely torn by the crystals, severing one of his wings. He was pale blue and had a limp mane and tail of yellow. Had he really been down in the pastures tending his flocks just mere hours earlier? Had Azurite? I'm sure if you could have asked him now even he wouldn't believe you.
Azurite lay closer to the hearth, where a silent fire flickered as if all was well. That was how he found this place., the smoke from the chimney led him right to this simple little hovel in the mountains. It was so easy. There were no neighbors to speak of unless you counted the garden he saw in the distance. It was positively bursting with color.
The crimson aura encircling Sombra's curved horn dulled and the crystals stilled. Despite his youth there were dark circles under his eyes, which were a more vibrant shade then his magic, and a somewhat tired look to him. Even so he had a silent and aggresive way he carried himself that any thief would fear.
Untitled #3 [One Shot]
Author's Notes:
A short Luna and Celestia story that I wasn't sure made a very good standalone, plus I couldn't think of a title. E-rated. Slight drama. That's 'bout it. Maybe if I feel a bit more confident in this particular piece it'll leave the anthology.
"Sister, how terrible do I look?" Luna was staring out the window, expression unusually sour, but her magic was clutching at the fabric of her dark dress. Deep blue-black fabric swept down in a cascade against the floor where Luna wasn't hiking it up in bunches. Such was the fate of the brand-new item.
"Luna, you would look just fine if you didn't crease the fabric so. Let it go." Celestia's own light skirt flowed with her every step. Coral and pink waved with nearly half the grace of the Alicorn's movements. "You look great."
Celestia, the very mare who ordered both their dresses, offered Luna a diplomatic smile. "Come on, there's a whole charity gala to enjoy."
Luna didn't move. Even her mane was still for a few breaths. The eyes of the moon goddess still swept over the visible urban isle of Manehatten and her high-rises with the harsh, jarring disdain that Luna showed next to nothing else. This was the mare that fell in love with every wild place; now she was shooting a sulky stare through steel and distant street pavement.
Celestia held hers, uncertain. With Luna, she could only pretend to know what to say, most of the time. There were few things that bothered her more than that. "Everypony will love your dress," she offered again.
Luna gave a reluctant kick at the back, the skirt flaring, billowing behind her before settling again. "This is incredibly uncomfortable. It's..."
Luna's thoughts ran faster, and longer, than her mouth ever could.
With Luna trailing off again, losing herself to her musings and unfinished sentences, Celestia could only presume that the fault was in the skirt. The dress was a feminine, elegant waterfall of fabric. If Luna found it uncomfortable, it likely only needed to be reined in.
Without a second spared, Celestia gave a few matronly tuts and was at Luna's side. The glossy black belt at her lean waist was obviously too loose. Clearly, it was far more of a problem than the dark moon clasp that was supposed to aid in the way the fabric hung off Luna's body. The poor mare must feel like she was draped in the cloth of a whole castle's curtains. Next time, she would order something with a proper waistline for Luna, like the gift she had gotten her for Twilight's coronation.
Every dress Luna had was a gift, and every one was from Celestia. Because of Celestia, Luna had a whole wardrobe of gorgeous gowns for events like this one. Many were pretty, moon-and-star themed things too. Each and every one was accumulated since her return, along with many other gifts. Those never seemed to get as... complicated, confusing responses, though.
Golden magic clung to Celestia's horn, and with a single movement, she pulled the belt.
"TIA!" Luna yelped, her whole form flashing with alarm.
Celestia would have gasped if she hadn't been smacked right in the face when Luna's wings flared out. Instead, she tasted feathers while the sound of sharp, near-ragged breaths reached her ears.
Horn lit once more, Celestia suppressed the sounds of gags as she plucked tufts of feathers from her mouth, from her teeth, and even the few that managed to get in her mane. Blehph. Gfft. Heffk. Ech.
Luna's wings were clean and well-groomed, Celestia hadn't expected otherwise, but she also hadn't preened Luna's wings since they were both little Alicorn fillies. Surprise 'meals' of feathers weren't going to dampen the unpleasantness, either.
"Oh, Tia, I'm sorry-"
"Don't be. Please." There was more urgency in those words than she had counted on. No matter how Luna's lean form was covered or how her wings were still-half flared (and with clear discomfort, no less) Celestia could see that belt had been pulled far, far too tight. Luna couldn't breathe right, and her wide, surprised eyes...
...she was caught up in mistakes, apology... oh goodness, they were both out of it today, weren't they?
Before Luna had another 'sorry' grace her lips or could do anything else, Celestia managed a rare bit of speed and pulled her belt loose with her magic so that Luna wasn't forced to clench her stomach so.
Large, gasping breaths met Celestia's ears as she watched Luna suck in air without a bit of composure.
"Luna, I am so sorry. Please know I only intended-"
"Tia..." Luna gasped again, grounded in getting her breathing steady and strong again. "You musn't apologize over the silly belt. I... I just wanted a suit." There was something forlorn in the downcast look she gave the floor. "I've always wanted a suit." She pauses, adding, "Some suits."
Celestia really only wanted Luna to feel pretty. To do something sisterly, and what could be more sisterly than sharing pretty clothes, girl talk, trinkets, and the 'twinsies' that all the foals found hip? She was aiming for a connection to somepony she really hadn't always known, and often still did not. A mare, just like her. Her sister, who she wanted to feel beautiful and as lauded as Celestia knew she was. The dress could make the mare, be a gift, they were petals that Luna could bloom like an appealing rose in, smiling and...
Luna just shrunk like a violet in these. She stood by, neutral...
"A suit..." Celestia tried to shift her gaze so it wasn't direct and instead traveled down her own legs. Luna loved the jewelry Celestia got for her. She was looking so nice in the earrings and shoes that had been designed along with the swathes of indigo she apparently couldn't stand. Why didn't she at least like the dresses?
Luna nodded like a mare stranded in the desert would if asked about thirst. The ever-rare light in her eyes was dancing again. "A crisp, sort-of handsome mare's suit."
Celestia's throat was tight. Luna had always dressed so... plainly? Rather stallion-like? Oh, she wasn't sure what to call it, just that Luna had gone through cross-dressing phases and all sorts of things. But didn't she see that she had winning looks like this? The kind of things publicity swooned over, ponies complimented, and was just absolutely worth prancing in?
"We won't be able to do anything today..." Celestia began, her mind already aiming to tread carefully, to assemble all the right words.
"I know, Tia." Luna's eyes had a lingering joy to them, but Celestia saw how fast it was retreating. Their dressing room was already feeling loose and airy again. "Next time," Luna supplied, magic touching her tiara as carefully as she spoke. "There is always a next time." Something bright lurked in her words.
Celestia's smile felt weak, but it didn't show. "I think we can just put a pin in this as a whole, don't you?"
Luna's light was all gone. The abrupt wordlessness of things reined between them. Celestia could not even remember when Luna's eyes had found the city outside again and had begun to raise the silent moon above the ocean beyond the city, or how sunset bled to dusk because she had not even heard Luna's magic twinkle.
Jaunty June [One Shot] [Friendshipping] [Blueblood/Raven]
Author's Notes:
It's not anything spectacular, but I just sat down and decided to write something based on the picture, wondering how some Blarpglarp and Raerae interactions might go.
I ended up with a little Iceverse ficlet, but part of what else went into the story other than wanting to write more LGBT ponies was how these two might feel about being around a lot of other ponies who just aren't gay in the rest of the continuity. (Or at least, not exclusively homosexual.) With Blueblood being the only pony in the royal family who holds this identity and Raven as generally insecure would they sometimes feel different? Lonely? Would they talk to one another? Be friends?
This was the brief result of my brainstorming.
Sweet Sleepy Sunshine and So Maybe both feature more Raven. Too Early has some Blueblood/Donut Joe shipping.
everyone/slice of life
A simple encounter in the halls of Canterlot Castle allow two ponies a friendly exchange. With smiles shared, two ponies talk about all the good things to come.
"Yoo-hoo! Rae!" Duke Blueblood waved to Raven, who meeped at the boistrous greeting. Her magic flared faintly so she could hold onto the papers and pens gripped in her magic, even though they had been in no danger of falling.
"B-Blue, I c-could've dropped these! What would Princess Celestia have said if I had-"
"Auntie would have little to say about a few scattered papers." Blueblood bit his lip. "Though, I do suppose I see your point." He swallowed, looking at the floor.
A hesitant, but reassuring pat on the wither from Raven drew away any gloom. "Blue, I've still got them. No disorganization, s-see? All neat."
Blueblood exhaled and matched Raven's stride. "So, Rae, I was wondering what your plans are for June."
Raven smiled. June with Blueblood was one of her favorite times of the year because it meant that she could finally be close to brazen about something. Courageous. It was something her and Blue shared too, a whole celebration of identity when her voice felt a little louder with the nudge of a crowd.
"The parade is still on this year, r-right?" She smiled, giddy and still bearing her usual shyness.
Blueblood nodded, a spring entering his step. The grand halls of Canterlot Castle were absolutely ringing with his steps. "Absolutely, Rae!"
Duties meant that sometimes you had to be the statue everypony danced around instead of a dancer. Raven saw it in Princess Celestia, who had the hoof steps to such a routine tred right onto her heart. Sometimes that meant that her and Blue couldn't make every pride parade in Canterlot. Duties meant that sometimes the duke was presiding over another city's when they vied for the attention of the Royal Family. He might even be doing something unrelated, or in another part of the world. There were numerous possibilities, and numerous events across Canterlot and Equestria, not that Raven had ever been to another. She was a Canterlotian, born and bred. If she was to be a stripe on any rainbow, it would be one in Canterlot.
"Will Joe be able to come?" she asked expectantly. She liked Donut Joe, not that she knew him extremely well. Princess Celestia knew a young Twilight Sparkle frequented his shop very often in the past, and that him and Blueblood fancied one another, but she really didn't go anywhere the princess didn't.
"Jojo shall be making it this year!" Blueblood was grinning from ear to ear, and Raven couldn't blame him. Blue's coltfriend was spectacular, and always had the best (and only) rainbow-sprinkled donuts in all of Canterlot throughout the month of June. Sometimes that meant that they couldn't go to events together, with Blue being royalty and Joe running his own shop, but they tried.
"That's wonderful!" Raven who generally could not get out many words without slipping into a stutter, often couldn't believe she was able to so much as raise her voice around royalty. Blue never stopped being a friend, but he never stopped being royalty either; he was just the only member of the Royal Family she could really act that way around. "Should we start plans next week? That will give us extra time to check the newest Canterlot Carousel catalogues."
Raven was hoping for some rosy dresses being availible. Yes, she was more than able to afford a custom order over a more general one, but every bit spent needlessly was a bit spent badly.
"Oh gods, absolutely. Among all the boutiques in this city and the one founded by a Ponyvillian is one of the few to capitalize on the strategy of sending their catalogues out extra-extra-early. It's madness, I tell you." Blueblood wrapped a scoff in his last few words.
His stride was larger than hers, and she had to trot to keep up with him. There was nothing that could stop dramatic, energetic, and opulent Blueblood when he wanted to go somewhere or set his mind to something. He was the stallion whose parties and fortune dazzled all of Equestria, second to Princess Celestia and Luna themselves. He was the the leader, the go-getter, and Raven was the mouse.
She was used to it, not minding it. Not around Blue, and certainly not around Joe. When all her time was spent around perfect Princess Celestia and mysterious Princess Luna, finding a pony like Joe who was both quiet and strong... and so normal made it feel like she mattered just a little extra bit.
The date, May 13th, burned clearly in Raven's mind. There was much to be done to perfect their plans and who better than the top secretary in Equestria to do it? They had learned from experience that Joe was too busy and no matter how much Blue spoke, he was sickened by the thought of being responsible for starting plans for anything mid-month, and certainly not an uneven day. Duties aside, he was still known for being the 'prince of leisure'.
She was half-tempted to pull the pen she had tucked away in her bun out and start jotting down a few thoughts, but hit her lip delicately and resisted the urge. She still had a lunch meet and chess with Princess Celestia as soon as she could drop off her papers at her office.
"How does Thursday at Joe's sound for Pride Plans? Two-o'-clock?" Thursday was rarely busy at Joe's compared to the weekend, and she was certain she might have misplaced her honest-to-gods 'Pride Plans' notebook somewhere in her apartment, and until she went home to start peeking behind her modest stack of unwashed dishes (which would give poor Blue a heart attack) and behind her favorite chair, she would have to resist the further urge to scribble.
"I think that will do just fine. A letter to Jojo should be all that's needed to arrange lunch. Expect one from me if that changes or isn't do-able." Blue poked his head around the hall, ears perked forwards while Raven paused to look the next way, towards the hall that would bring her to her office.
"That sounds perfect," Raven said, heading bowing slightly through the push of habit. The word 'perfect' always was spoken so carefully and felt balanced on her tongue.
Smiling, Blueblood offered a wave back. "Have a good afternoon, Rae!"
"Bye, Blue!" She flashed her teeth in a friendly smile. "Hope you have a good day!"
Raven received a smile in return.
"May we have a jaunty June in return!"
Secondhoof Bribes [Minific] [Friendshipping] [Sombra/Cadance]
Cadance tugged at one of her short curls with a hoof. "So, I got you a few things that might suit your tastes."
"Might," Sombra echoed skeptically. He frowned.
"Yes!" Cadance piped, puffing out her chest with all the confidence she could manage, rustling the shopping bag she had grasped in her magic. "All you have to do is stop using my makeup."
Sombra raised an eyebrow, but taunted Cadance with no answer. She was forced to resort to bribes. and here she was wrinkling her muzzle at the very stallion she taught the art of cosmetics to. Now that he lived with Luna, he had every opportunity to sneak into the visiting rooms she claimed too obtain 'free samples' of her eyeshadow.
"Please," Cadance asked, giving Sombra her goofiest puppy-dog eyes and a smile sweet enough to match her tone. "I didn't teach you so you could rob me."
A swish of crimson magic poked Cadance right in the muzzle. "That's part of a surprise attack. Now let me see if your bribes are sufficient."
Sighing, Cadance hummed and withdrew a shiny container. The clear lid showed off the colored array of powders inside. "These are the best for smokey eyes," Cadance said with a wink, her smile hiding how much she hoped she struck Sombra's weakness. "I even made sure that all the colors will go well with your coat and eyes. See what a gooooood friend I am?"
Sombra shot her a sharp look, betraying nothing. "Be silent, Insolent Niece. I still see more in that bag."
"Fine, be a big grouch, but at least look at this~" With another cheerful smile, Cadance pulled out a ruffly, layrered skirt. "It's pretty, yah?"
Sombra flicked an ear, but kept his eyes glued to the long garment.
"Okay, if that's a 'no', then how 'bout this one?" Cadance waved a container of barrettes and mane clips around. "These ones are really good for manes like yours," she said pointing to Sombra's disheveled mane. "One of my friends suggested them."
Sombra dragged his eyes from the container to Cadance's bouncy curls. "And the rest?"
"Ta-da!" Cadance exclaimed, flashing a rugged-looking stallion's trench coat around. "I thought you'd wanna add this one to your collection too! Lookit this collar. It's extra good for flipping up~!"
She really wished that it would be easier to tell if her teasing was having an impact on him or swaying him in any way.
"Come on, Sombra. I'm running out of stuff here." She shook her nearly empty bag, one cloth item bouncing inside.
Wordlessly, Sombra nodded to the bag. "Show me what's inside, then. Taunting me any longer will result in Skyla 'accidentally' having too many sweets the next time I watch her." One corner of his mouth curls up. "I might even give her soda."
"You would not..." Lifting one forehoof, Cadance hides the astonished 'O' of her mouth.
"I would, and I will."
"And to think you're considered reformed, you jerk."
Sombra chuckled dryly. "I try."
Though she was bad at showing malicious brands of annoyance, Cadance did her best to feign it with an eye roll. "Here's your last offer."
The last item Cadance had purchased was a shirt. It looked very casual, and while that wasn't the most popular of styles, she knew that Sombra always tended to wear something. She'd certainly never seen him without his familiar cloak at the least. With a few twists of her aura, the T-Shirt unfolded so that the design presented Sombra.
"Look how cute it is! I saw this at a secondhoof store in Fillydelphia and immediately thought of you!"
Sombra could only face the shirt with a mix of bewilderment and something Cadance pegged as an awkward brand of fear. "I think it was secondhoof for a reason."
Ears flicking, Cadance flipped the shirt around so she could look at the image sewn on it. A pineapple with large, but species non-specific paws gazed amorously at a cheesy pizza slice below. Both were ponified loosely, with faces bearing features that were broad enough to fit a number of mammals, like certain kinds of smiley stickers meant to include non-ponies.
The pizza looked back, uncertain and straight-faced while the pineapple-beast whispered: Shhh, no one needs to know...
"I have zero idea what you're talking about. This is a very cute shirt! And don't tell me it doesn't suit you, pizza freak!"
Sombra gave the shirt Cadance has so generously purchased the same look that foals gave to dogs they feared would bite them. Never dropping that distrustful look, he gathered everything else up in his magic, beating Cadance's protests.
"Hey! I was going to have you pick one! One thing!"
Snorting, Sombra waved the makeup around. "I'm choosing this. The rest of these tasteful items, I am stealing."
"Gods-darn it, Sombra. The shirt is cute.. I'd wear it myself but it's too big for me!"
"I'll stop stealing your eyeshadow if you let me take all of these without a fuss."
"Yes, yes thank you! Spare my eyeshadow your wrath." As if preparing to faint, Cadance raised a forehoof to her forehead with purposely shaking motions, letting the start of a giggle slip as she hugged the shirt to her chest with her other foreleg.
"I will, however, be raiding your mascara from now on."
"SOMBRA, NO!"
Author's Notes:
The shirt that started the idea that became this short, and clearly the reason the notes for this story are near the bottom. Yes, this is a real shirt. Yes, for the shock(?) value.
I sorta forgot a little of how I formatted stuff here. It's honestly criminal I haven't had the time to be writing shorts, drabbles, whatever, and dumping them here. This hasn't updated in over a year. A YEAR. Ugh. Anyway, this one made some minor refs to Enemy of Mine so there's that too.
I haven't written some good ol' Sombra and Cady friendshipping in a while too, so here is some.
Famulus [One Shot] [Unfinished] [Scrapped?]
Author's Notes:
This was a Celestia and Spike one shot I wanted to do a while ago that I just stopped writing and never finished. It just didn't flow like I wanted it to, and even though I've always wanted to write Spike (he's cool! I'm just so bad at writing him!) I ended up forgetting about it until I stumbled across it on my new laptop again. No inspiration to continue it has struck me, so I'll just leave it here.
Also, there was Philomena and me flexing that I know what 'famulus' means.
Famulus
slice of life/drama/slightly teen maybe?
Basically Celestia has been taking care of Spike in his infancy because she's the only equine who really knows much about dragons to ensure his health and comfort. While not thinking herself his mom, she does know she's the only one informed enough to take care of him until he can go live with Twilight and her family, or even be cared for by Twilight on her own.
Philomena, who Celestia has had since she was young and knows of the general bad behavior norms of dragons is not pleased. Dragons are dangerous, and ponies and Alicorns rarely consort with them for REASONS. (She also might be, y'know, over-defensive from having lived through literal ages with Celestia and the Everfree Forest, etc. hint hint and SUPER bonded with Ol' Tiabutt.)
One day, she burns Spike when he trips her Wary-Bird-O'-Meter too much and the bab crosses a line in her mind. Celestia finds an injured Spike and has to work to console them both and help them get along in the future.
I really like writing Celestia's healing magic, and maybe one day I'll finish this. Who knows.
Princess Celestia stifled a shriek at the sight in her writing room, and instead allowed herself an immensely undignified squawk of cough. The air caught in her throat caused her to let out one more hack, and the ungraceful sound was strange to even her ears.
Golden inkwells had heir contents spilled upon the carpet. Shredded paper was here and there. Tiny scritch-scratches tore at the thread of her lovely magenta pillows, which were now mottled with oozing black splotches.
Crowning this disaster was not the little talon-prints in the same ink across various parts of the room, but the spilled tea.
The spilled tea that she had brought back only moments before and was most certainly piping hot.
Small puffs of noxious smoke reached the princess, and she coughed, her eyes wide with worry. The stench of singed fabric stuck to the back of her throat, its odor an unwelcome coating she could not swallow.
But it was the crying that caught attention most, for the pitiful wails of a child grated in her ears, and that was how she knew the spilled tea had caused almost as much problems as her phoenix.
She did not mourn the smashed cup of Prancian porcelain, but cantered over to the tiny, scared dragon close to her pillows.
Spike...
In her mind, she still saw his green eyes bright with innocent charm as he had played beside her while she worked and Philomena napped. Now, they were aflame with innocent pain, something that she had only ever seen in infants when they encountered harm in the world of colors, smiles, and coos that they had previously cherished.
The princess heard a gasp escape her. Spike was near her shattered teaware, hiccuping sooty screams and crying. His tender young scales were scaled and pained-looking from the hot drink, and her teabag was caught between two of them, and was only jammed in further by how he tossed about.
"Oh, Spike..."
She fell to her knees with a roughness even she did not expect from herself. Her horn flared with golden light that was no longer its usual mild hue, but one with more focused yellow undertones.
Spike whimpered when the magic ran delicately over him, and the sound made Celestia wince.
Good, good. He can still feel this.
"Shh, it's alright, sweetie. I'm here now." And I never should have gone to get a snack if this is what I was going to come back to...
Celestia dismissed her barb of self-criticism, shoving it away for later so she might concentrate her efforts on the baby drake.
Windigo's Breath and the Dance of Death [Poetry]
Author's Notes:
Teen/Horror/Spooky Verse
The windigo swirl in the sky in their dance, bringing death and destruction to ponies. There are ten steps to their movements, but will ponies fall to their apocalyptic ways?
First there was only a nip in the air
that trickling bitter chill that found each coat's every hair
Second came an early storm of snow
but there was no need to panic when everypony still saw the sun's glow
Third came the constant realization that every-tribe still had no ally
with their increased fury, carnage and storm continued to multiply
Fourth was the word of the Unicorn King on his throne
to force the pegasi to bring an end to the cyclone
Fifth was unicorns and pegasi in yet another war
leaving earth pony fields burdened with countless gore
Sixth is each never-ending war to drive us closer to doom
until each has seen enough to beg for a return to the womb
Seventh is the earth ponies who rise from their squalor
with stallions, mares, and foals wearing war's own collar
Eighth is the spirits unearthly and howl through the ice
bringing unnumbered violence to make all before seem like paradise
Ninth is a meeting in but a poor hut
with every tribe trying to figure out how to exit this rut
Tenth is all yet to be told in this narrative of endless strife
as the only living these ponies know is on the edge of a knife
Failed Footnotes #1 [Lore]
Author's Notes:
Things don't always make it into a story. This anthology is proof of that, and I usually refrain from posting things that aren't purely snippets and shorts of some kind here, even though blogs aren't the most fitting thing for this either. However, I find bits and pieces that always ended up just almost making it into notes and leaving the space of headcanon to find their way into words. They're pieces that I always want to use, but either lack the story to do so or am sure I'll never get around to, because they're essentially fast facts about lore.
Putting forth bits like these in a little chapter like this is too Word of God for my tastes, but considering that no story really is coming from this stuff any time soon, there's not much of a problem. Have an idea-dump type thing from me, and maybe I'll dig up more rambling notes for further installments of this. Possible story spoilers for anyone who still retains the sanity that comes from not obsessively reading literally everything I've ever written.
I do like writing notes, though, kind of.So, here they are! (Also, consider the contents below unrated. Maybe one day there will be a second installment too. Considering the state of pony, too, I'd expect full notes and such dumped in here when Ice Words are done and all that; every story of mine that just never came to be tossed right here.)
Sorrel's Law: After the events of Forever Mare, Princess Celestia is quick to create a law establishing mandatory suicide watches in hospitals and similar establishments, where their safety is to be ensured and they are to be treated compassionately and carefully during monitoring, either because it was asked for or because the creature in question was determined to be clearly at-risk. In the vocabulary of the common pony, the formal names is disregarded for calling it 'Sorrel's Law' or just the suicide watch law (though, there would be a different procedure for the criminal justice system; Sorrel's Law being a strictly civilian equivalent). However, most ponies wouldn't know why exactly it is called 'Sorrel's Law' because the only thing it would trace back to is a grave in Canterlot, one bearing the name Sorrel Lace and a modest amount of information regarding the sanctuary hospital patient.
(This would be much like how most people only know of something like the Amber Hagerman Act because of the murder of the girl. So, Sorrel's Law would only garner some kind of connection of the titular 'Sorrel' being a pony who killed themselves.)
---
Pansexuality: To creatures in and outside of Equestria, pansexual is more of a slang than a sexual orientation. Somepony like Cadance would refer to somepony as pansexual to be courteous about their identity, while a formal document would classify them as bisexual. To call a pony pansexual would describe a pony who is sexually attracted to ponies of either sex (specifically including/emphasizing intersex), any gender, and that they are open to relationships with sapient creatures of species that could be described as notably different from them. The latter part would be considered the most important or defining part of the word, not just from how it really reflects the meaning of 'pan' but because in a world with multiple sapient species and mixed populations, whether somecreature is open to that kind of a relationship and can experience that kind of attraction is important.
Starlight Glimmer states herself to be pansexual in Wishing Werelights, but maintains a relationship with a unicorn mare, which isn't exactly interspecies. Celestia would not be considered pansexual because she lacks same-sex attraction; instead ponies would term her as just being heterosexual but with an openness to interspecies unions. Luna's status as such would be dubious because as an asexual, she'd firstly be panromantic over pansexual if she was. She shows mostly heteroromantic leanings even if she's bi, and her partner is still an equine. (Twilight and Celestia, as an example, would not be a pony-pony relationship, but they are both equines, just as Sombra and Luna are.)
---
Ponies normally do not wear clothes, but not wearing any in a situation where it would be considered appropriate to is seen as having bad manners. Rarity was right to fret about them at the gala!
---
Dragons do eat ponies, and a pony fearing it is realistic. However, dragons that do eat ponies are generally old and do not interact with other dragons, making them deflectors from the already antisocial/asocial winged lizards and their migratory habits.
---
Foster care for ponies isn't as exploitative or risky as it can be for people. Though, ponies in foster care can still face the same problems. A pony I always thought of having this background was Fluttershy, but I never got around to writing a story that referred to it; even though I wanted to.
Her unwritten backstory is Iceverse canon as it appears here, but isn't likely to appear again: Fluttershy's parents died at a young age, and Fluttershy was quietly passed from foster home to foster home. She didn't experience any severe trauma or big, sad Batman-and-orphans kind of beginnings. She was just an easy target for bullies, extremely anxious (as she is in show flashbacks and before Twilight came to Ponyville) and did not get a lot of nurturing.
When she fell to the forests near Ponyville (which Cloudsdale was drifting over at the time), Fluttershy decided to settle there. She eventually became an emancipated minor and built her cottage into what it is today.
---
In the similar backstory-that-never-came-to-be for the unused Iceverse canon bucket is that Rainbow Dash had no mother. Well, obviously she did have one, but only technically. Mare or not, I've always seen her as someone who developed isolated from feminine influences; I just never decided if she had one dad or two, probably because I never got around to writing anything relevant to her youth. Or her in general. It's a shame, because I really like Rainbow Dash.
---
As Truthfully and my other scrapped AJ and Rarity story describe, Applejack's mother isn't known to be dead. Her name is Apple Rose, making her Apple Rose the Second and named for Granny Smith's favorite cousin! Though, considering how important names are to ponies, being named after a relative that is alive would not have been taken kindly. Apple Rose just went by variations of Rose.
What her life is like now is unknown beyond her having zero idea what has been transpiring in Ponyville and the lives of her foals since she took off.
---
End 1#
Untitled #5 [Unfinished] [One-Shot] [Rarity/Twilight]
Author's Notes:
This bit is just an old start to an unfinished RariTwi one shot that I had been writing on my iPod of all things. It's from 2017 at the very least. I don't remember the exact date. If you missed Untitled #4 it's in the grimdark version of this anthology. No continuity notes.
E-T/Romance/Might've been a comedy?
"Rarity, I'll slip in these," Twilight complained, kicking one of her rear hindlegs for emphasis. The silky purple socks that she was wearing caught the sunlight in a way that only served to show off the elegance of Rarity's latest design, much to her marefriend's chagrin.
"Oh?" Rarity said, still not jolted from her current position - observing Twilight model her adorable new socks. There was a critical look in her sapphire eyes that silently critiqued her work from behind her stylish red framed glasses.
Sombra vs. the Sun [Bonus Scene]
Author's Notes:
A bit that didn't make it into Enemy of Mine. Here's a short for the story that hasn't seemed to produce that many, unlike Favorable Alignment which has a fair deal of bonus content here. While there's general spoilers for EoM and Arc Two, you'll specifically be spoiled if you haven't read up to Husband of Hers, Part Five.
So here's a lighthearted-ish, more SoL piece during one of Sombra and Celestia's lunches. If you've ever wanted to see Sombra try and manage another god's domain, here's the short for you. It's nothing special, but I hope you like it.
The crisp flavor of cucumber burst in Celestia's mouth. Each lazy munch was that of a content mare, and though she found herself seated normally on a perfectly average day in the castle gardens, a different feeling crossed her mind. She was used to be unlike most of the other divine of the world, lacking real mysticism and an unchangeable sense of otherness held by the others. Was she not more like the marble statues of other gods made by her mortal subjects than the gods themselves?
Yes, certainly. She was well-aware that she was closer to a ponification of civic virtue than holding any ethereal quality, as the others did. Today was still one of the times when she could look upon those around her really feeling like a divine observing what could be dismissed as mortal antics, as hesitant as she was to ever use the term.
After all, it was not every day her position as the solar deity was questioned.
"Lower it."
Celestia swallowed. "When dusk falls, I will."
"In the grand scheme of things, are a few hours absent from the day really going to matter?"
"I'm sure they would."
Sombra scowled and a flicker of telekinesis jerked at the hem of his hood. The attempt to pull it over his face again did nothing, not that he seemed to mind. His eyes were giving the sky a withering look. "You've never thought to make that an experiment?"
"No, I do not wish to interfere with the process of the heavens. Not beyond routine, at least."
"I don't recall there being any reports of harmful anomalies on the summer solstice Luna returned."
"There weren't," Celestia began carefully, "but when Discord returned-"
Sombra waved a forehoof dismissively. "That's more than diminishing daylight."
Celestia bit into her sandwich again and let sunlight prickle against her coat. "I think that is enough about the sun. It shall not be lowered before its scheduled descent."
"And if somepony else lowers it before then?" A pointed look was aimed at her, and Sombra nodded toward the sun. It was the same gesture that somepony made towards a friend, and the way that Sombra was now indicating the heavens themselves came across as so arrogant.
"Luna is not going to lower my sun just because you asked her to."
"I'll do it."
Celestia's eyes widened before she could stop herself, and she ceased chewing. "You?!"
"Yes, me."
"What possibly makes you think you can raise my sun?"
"I've never tried to."
"So has every pony in Equestria!" Her mane let loose one large ripple of emphasis to go with her words.
"None of them are gods," Sombra said. Tone-wise, he was speaking like somepony who merely didn't wish to bring an umbrella out when it rained, not like he was speaking about tampering with the heavens.
Celestia swallowed again. Louder this time. A smile, closed-mouth and hiding everything tightly spread across her muzzle. Twinkles popped in her mane, shining just a touch brighter.
"That is true." And really, none had been able to have their magic so much as touch the sky even before her and Luna claimed the sun and moon. "I'll be watching."
Sombra offered a skeptical look and flicked an ear under his hood. "Very well, then."
Rising from his seat, Sombra sauntered to a more open area in the gardens. Summer breezes tugged at the edges of his cloak, mane, and hood. He tilted his head back to take one long look at the sky, uncaring about how his hood slipped off. What he could be looking for, Celestia didn't know; even after gazing around the gardens multiple times he offered no indication of what he wanted.
A few ear flicks later, and the start of a crimson glow was appearing around the curve of Sombra's horn. The color was what really made it obvious; he hadn't built up enough for the more opaque quality of his aura to show.
Admittedly, she thought that with how aggressive he was that Sombra would just charge his horn up with a blind rush of energy and expect it to last. It certainly seemed like something he would do.
In Celestia's opinion - one fashioned from many lifetimes, mind you - watching a feat of magic live could be in the same field as watching paint dry. She supposed that was a reason both equally solid and superficial for her to not be at the entrance tests of every Faithful Student. (Of course, lessening pressure on the poor young one was also high on the list.)
Magic duels, while having an unsavory element to her regardless of their legality, often slipped into lengthy periods of two unicorns brandishing glowing horns and silently daring the other to do something. This kind of thing was tension to many, whipping up an atmosphere of bated breath that Celestia couldn't feel. It was a feeling she reserved more for bake-offs and antique shows.
Whole celebrations were built upon getting to witness divine magic - was it not every Summer Sun Celebration that ponies from all over the world flocked to the site of celebration and catch a glimpse of the sunrise? Still, Celestia couldn't help but think that without the ritual and ceremony to such actions, they would be boring to watch, from the perspective of one in her position. The festival aspect of things was what really made things memorable.
This was why she didn't think much of Sombra's current display of magic. Plenty of unicorns thought that they could actually do even a fraction of what she could, or in moments of youthful boasts had shot their magic towards the sky, only to learn that their magic wouldn't even grace the clouds. Sunset had been one of those foals, and it took an astonishing amount of time to offer passive, in-circles reminders that she didn't have any ability over the sun, no matter how gifted she was.
Then she saw the peculiar crimson tint spreading through the sky. Sombra's horn glowed on, and spreading outward from that area was something like an odd mist. She could see that if she waved a hoof there, nothing would be felt, but there was a visible discoloration.
"Goodness," Celestia gasped, her feathers ruffling, "what is...?"
Sombra cracked open one eyelid, leaking crimson light. He did not appear all that bemused by the sight, and shut his eyes again.
Reluctantly, Celestia folded her wings and watched, prepared to take action if the need for intervention arose. Already, she could see the hazy effect continue to spread, as water might seep into paper.
The longer she held her breath anxiously, the more prolonged the gradual fade of that very same effect happened. Swallowing, she watched the process that so closely resembled evaporation.
There was an extremely audible, rough scoff in Sombra's throat. Immediately after, the glow on his horn intensified to the level she would expect from a unicorn who got it in their head to try and create their own localized lighthouse beacon werelight.
Slipping her forehooves over her eyes blocked the majority of the aura. She wanted to say something, to exclaim anything about the force of the magic he was able to muster, but a sudden spike in the twinkling sound his magic accumulated made her wince.
"You musn't-!"
The rest of her words didn't come. Shattering her train of thoughts was the abrupt crash of sound and one final flash of light. Red crossed her vision, tinting everything still recognizable through the pigment of magic like the little punch-out glasses for films and comics, only there was no blue lens to go with things. A sweep of crimson aura shot upward, and when she could focus enough to lower her forehooves from her eyes, a strange sight greeted her.
The way Sombra had cast his magic had registered as something similar to a flash-bang spell first, though the only difference she could determine with certainty between them was that nopony tried to move a heavenly body with a flash-bang spell. Now that she could see the aftermath, she gaped at how the odd, translucent patches of his magic shimmered as faint splotches high in the sky. Their patterns were easy to grasp, for they floated about in the same space where an unseen wave of magic would've been applied or a beam shot. Each grew fainter by the second, and the farther up in the sky they were - which did the feat a disservice in a way, because Celestia was looking up, able to see countless discolorations.
"Just how far did your magic reach?"
Sombra sucked in a breath and wiped under his bangs with a sputtering movement of telekinesis. "Far," he managed, exhausted. "Unless you want to fly up and..." He trailed off, drawing another breath.
She was surprised he wasn't in horrific pain, or at the very least completely winded upon the ground.
"I'm a bit tempted too."
Sombra stumbled slightly as he turned around, seating himself on the ground with uncharacteristic clumsiness. "How did I manage?" he asked, rubbing at one of his temples and wincing slightly.
Celestia paused, mulling over possible replies. "Your magic has a reach unlike any singular pony's. Divinity has certainly given you enough range to..." Pursing her lips, Celestia looked to the skies again. "Gosh, Sombra..." Her composure slid, and she bit her lip sheepishly. There wasn't any standard for when others tried to claim her sun, or how to react to it. "You might have touched the mesosphere..."
Watching her try and hide a small gulp, Sombra then looked down at his forehooves in thought. "And nopony has ever managed that before?"
He didn't really sound like he doubted her, so she only offered a shake of her head.
The sun had not been moved inches, the world was not tilted, and overall he hadn't done anything visible on the level that her and Luna did when they reached out with their magics.
"Maybe," she said eventually, "your magic did go farther-"
"There's just no way of knowing," he pointed out. "I could try again another day, and bring some instruments. Or, maybe Luna and I could use an airship-"
"Airships don't go in space."
"I'm well aware of that, but even if I was higher off the ground, there could be a more visible result-"
She dismissed him with a wave of her forehoof. "As I had been saying, your magic might have gone just a bit farther and the potency of it was simply non-existent because of how far you pushed it out."
"I'm not used to casting it at the sky."
She nodded. He had managed to control the Crystal Empire with magics that had a record range, but attempting to reach from a planet surrounded by the sun and moon was so obviously out of his depth.
And yet, that didn't make what he did anything less than a powerful feat rarely seen in this age.
(There could be something worrying about that. A worry-atop-worry sort of thing.)
"Most aren't," Celestia said, offering a smile.
While Sombra tilted his head back to observe the sky, Celestia returned to her sandwiches and the simple enjoyment that came with observing how her sun shone across the gardens.
Dancer & Watcher [Poetry]
Author's Notes:
This one is based off of a quote I've seen around before, and one I like quite a bit, as well as two recent pieces of filly Luna and Tia art I felt fit how I envisioned them exactly: Luna is quiet, shyer, and looks like there's something on her mind. Celestia is as elegant as a child can manage and tries her best to look pretty and be graceful. Also hecking loves flowers.
Rain loosening her mane
She jumps alone
and splashes
a whole mess of mud
to wear in patches
for her dance
with steps meant for every puddle
to squash each bit of grass
stir every flower
and throw her laughter
past her fuzzy blue body
and little wings
so the sky can see
her smile that dwarfs the moon
but when the storm ends
She will scoop up all her wonder
and all her laughter
to keep inside
until it rains again
because this little dancer
is a flower that blooms
best in her own way
As the pitter-patter
makes all mud splatter
she dares not leave the shade
offered to her by the branches
of her tough perch
knowing that below is a sea of muck
in which her sister dances
Refusing to risk
sniffles, dirt, and mud caked into her mane
of the softest pink
she shivers and squeaks
hugging her fluffy body
to the tree's bark
feeling rather mature
and just a bit chilly
when the rain passes
she knows there will be flowers
waiting just for her
but for now
she is the watcher above
something that gives her
a familiar feeling
Murder, Marigold, and Mini Sandwiches [One Shot] [Friendshipping] [Luna/Sombra/Cadance]
Author's Notes:
Timeline wise: That weird gap between Favorable Alignment and Enemy of Mine.
Spoilers: For anything before FA and including it I guess?I like true crime. I like weird murder facts. Anyone who has given my stories so much as a passing glance knows I probably have read up on forensic psychology or some other Weird Thing that is also Very Morbid and makes you wonder just what the fuck I'd be writing if it wasn't about ponies.
Well, I probably do read too much weird crime stuff (spoiler: I totally do) and discovered some very neat articles detailing murder behavioral patterns and why they differ between the genders. Yep, people kill differently depending on what gender they are - and there's certain professions that serial killers find useful. Blah blah blah true crime and horses why aren't there more horse crime stories I have no clue but there should be.
This idea is a rather mundane one that popped into my head when it did occur to me that a) Sombra was a serial killer (technically) he'd have Horse Opinions and b) I dunno my brain's weird, but Luna would totally be on board with learning this sorta thing since she did a lot of justice and crime stuff in Equestria (both past and present) and c) c'mon Luna and Sombra are weirdos and would know a bunch of morbid stuff that they'd gab about in front of poor Cady-doo.
So, uh, short story info:
Teen/Death Talking So Death and Violence Tag I guess I Dunno They're Talking/Cadance/Sombra/Luna/Friendshipping/Comedy/Slice of Life
Summary: Cadance tries to stay up to speed when Luna and Sombra are complete weirdos, and this include when they start trying to educate her on famous Equestrian murderers.
Lookit this lazy ass formatting almost like I typed this at 2 in the morning or something haha what.
Cadance swirled her fork in her magic, only picking at fruit medley. Of all the things she could have packed for lunch, and she had picked the laziest option. Delight at visiting Sombra and Luna in Canterlot had monopoly over her attention when packing her share of the picnic lunch. And she chose to make - and eat most of - the fruit medley. Sombra hadn’t touched it, insisting there was a disproportionate amount of honeydew. Luna was too busy levitating samples of everything else towards her to nibble at between conversation; her attention was fixed on Sombra, and there was a shine in her eyes that she had just for him. While Cadance hadn’t seen Luna sample the medley, a few pieces had gone missing when she wasn’t looking, and that was confirmation enough.
She popped a forkful of watermelon in her mouth, enjoying a burst of flavor and looking up at the clouds. Wispy rings swirled around Mount Canterhorn, each a wide ripple across the bright blue sky. With such a perfectly relaxing day, one would think that the discussions at such a picnic would be pleasant, light things.
That ‘one’ in question would not be Cadance. Befriend the weirdos, and the weird shall follow. A crazy demon and his goth girlfriend were not a normal combination, and you know what? That was perfectly okay. One hundred and ten percent definitely completely okay. Heck, it even made them cuter together, and Cadance was hooves-down the number one fan of these two.
Even when conversations get freaky.
“...and multiple ponies perishing from exsanguination was not enough for magical matters to be suspected?”
Sombra shook his head, black bangs brushing falling over his eyes. “You would think so.” He thrust the book he was levitating closer to Luna. “The initial investigation into the Manehattan Blood Magic Murders was abysmal until somepony who could be identified was killed.”
Sombra snorted, and Cadance swiveled her ears toward him. She focused on how Luna nodded with an understanding she didn’t mimic. Perhaps trying to scarf down fruit in the face of this conversation topic was why. Perhaps.
“To think that the guard was at such a loss in such dire times…” Luna murmured, leafing through the pages with her turquoise glow. “A strong registry of one’s subjects and a blade to the neck of any underworld that threatens to emerge is an invaluable asset to one’s nation.”
“I think there was more to the failure than that,” Sombra said, the critical edge to his voice clearer to Cadance than the depth of their immersion on such a morbid matter. “Intuition isn’t an instinct.”
“My sister has always struggled to manage criminal matters,” Luna replied, shrugging. “Her time alone has the clear underpinnings of just how much she needed somepony more knowledgeable to be there for her. A serial murderer is a breed whose nature is entirely unknown to my sister. Monstrous minds are what I picked apart and stalked, she merely condemned them. I must say it is humorous how erroneously ‘mage’ is misused to describe an earth pony!” She chuckled, and Cadance blinked.
Sombra gave a dry scoff. “Certainly. That’s still something more glaring - what I find odd is her occupation.” A cold smirk tugged at Sombra’s muzzle and he tapped a hoof to one page once he found it. “A general store clerk is neither subversively unassuming, seemingly ironic, or obvious.”
“Sombra, she worked as an unskilled laborer. For somepony who had to mask such corruption and violence in their life, to work at something so undemanding offered this Marigold much more time for her nefarious schemes.”
Sombra’s black tail swished in an arc across Cadance’s picnic blanket. “Yeah, that does give some purpose to why. Mares don’t usually kill how she did. Even her methods were different - she wasn’t that bright, and there’s still no record of her using anything close to her other than the Alicorn Amulet to supply her attacks. I can only describe that as her overlooking resources or monomaniac effects of dark magic.”
“According to your book, the latter seems far more plausible, Som. The mare was out of her mind.”
“Listen you two,” Cadance interrupted teasingly, “are you just gonna gab about this weird murder stuff all day?”
“Perhaps,” Sombra said, arching one eyebrow and following the tilt of Cadance’s head with a flat stare.
“We hadn’t meant to neglect you so,” Luna added, smiling and rustling the feathers of her neatly folded wings. “Perhaps you would like us to fill you in?”
“Uh,” Cadance flicked an ear and made her wings mimic a crooked shrug. “Sure?”
“You get her caught up,” Sombra said, transferring his book to Luna’s magic. He levitated a plate of daisy sandwiches in his direction.
“Very well,” Luna accepted it and calmly turned to Cadance, pursuing the pages as she continued. “The mare we speak of is so-called Blood ‘Mage’ of Manehattan, an earth pony and serial murderer when my sister reigned alone. She is an obscure and morbid part of our kingdom’s history, being the first known owner of the Alicorn Amulet and a bastard to the Blueblood family.”
“Ohmigosh, they had those?” Cadance squeaked, nearly choking on a grape.
“She was the only one,” Luna said solemnly. “Her homewrecker dam was the subject of much scorn after Miss Marigold’s birth.”
“Wait, how could she have kept the Blueblood name if she was a bastard?” Cadance asked. “And is this going to be a real conversation we all have from now on? Strange murder facts hosted by you weirdos?”
“Somepony says that like it’s a bad thing,” Sombra retorts, that familiar, no-good smirk creeping back into view.
Luna smiled impishly at Cadance’s words. “For somepony with our backgrounds this is quite the typical conversation. A young ruler like yourself should be concerned with the safety of one’s subjects from all possible perspectives.”
“Well...” Cadance drew out the word, conceding, “when you put it that way, it makes sense. I just don’t get why ya care that she’s a mare, yo. Isn’t a freaky murderer a murderer either way?”
Sombra brought a forehoof to his cheek, dragging it down to his sharp jawline in a dramatic display of exasperation. “I don’t know, Pink One. Why would somepony’s gender matter in their relationships? Aren’t ponies the same regardless of gender? Surely there’s no important differences between them that would impact how they-”
“Okay, okay, Sombra!” A fork twirled swiftly in her blue magic and Cadance looked over at Luna. “Sooo... why does colt or filly-”
Sombra raised one eyebrow critically.
“-or, uh, spooky dark magic have to do with how somepony would kill? Or why?”
Luna still held her wise smile. “Key differences in any creature are wont to influence how one behaves. As vile as some deeds can be, that does not take away from their complexity or need to be understood. That which you see in such a situation as inconsequential can play an important role in impacting the methodology of the morbid.”
Cadance only gave a flat, “What.”
Luna chuckled at the sight of the other mare’s far-eyed stare. “I suppose I cannot expect you to have the words for that which you hadn’t offered much thought to before. To offer a simpler situation: between a mare and a stallion, and with no other factors accounted for, who is the more likely to poison another pony?”
“Erm,” Cadance bit at her lip, both in thought and because she knew Sombra was scrutinizing her, “a mare?” she guessed.
“That is correct,” Luna replied, her cool eyes twinkling. “Yet, do you know why that is so?”
Colorful curls shifted with the shake of Cadance’s head. “Nopers!”
“A mare is less likely to utilize brute force due to the average mare’s slighter strength,” Luna’s posture straightened with a plucky pride and she rolled her withers, shooting her lithe frame an admiring gaze. “Though it is not something I have any experience with myself, I understand that stallions possess a greater average physical capability, and that mares prefer less confrontational methods out of practicality and are inclined to indirect, passive methods in such an area.”
Sombra nuzzled Luna’s neck affectionately, only pulling away from the adorable gesture to contribute to what Luna said. “Think of that specific hypothetical like communication. How much more likely are you to meet a passive-aggressive mare over a stallion? If the method of communication becomes a violent one, why would somepony abandon all their previous habits?”
“Oh gods,” Cadance gasped, “you two are making murder make sense!”
“Yes, yes,” Sombra’s crooked smile flashed briefly, “we’re such bad influences on you.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Luna added, smiling teasingly. “Might there be anything else still on your mind?”
“Well,” Cadance started, letting her thoughts gather and sampling some more lunch. “You two were talking about jobs. That was the really confusing part. Why would that be important? Isn’t it about the ponies and why they did something terrible? Why would I wanna know if some freak was flipping hayburgers? How do you even keep track of that?”
Sighing, Sombra flopped down to the ground. He let his mane fan out behind him when the rest wasn’t spilling out across his eyes, in its usual place. “Luna, if she keeps asking things like this, you’re going to have your work cut out for you – and for longer than I thought.”
An amused, gentle smile played across Luna’s muzzle. Her magic turned the pages in Sombra’s book with aimless glides. “Som, she’s only a novice. Our discussions may resume some other time. As for your questions, Cady, it is very important. Is a pony’s profession not some part of who they are when they are often marked for that very thing?”
“I guess when you put it that way–”
“...It highlights some fault in your assumptions, does it not?” Luna asked, tilting her head curiously. “The very hayburger cook you described could have been poisoning the very food they flipped. An investigation keeps track of that – and why would we not want to? Somepony utilizing the resources present in their place of employment brings forth many questions about what goes on there, much like a spy in one’s midst would bring about the same discussions.”
“Wait, so you and Sombra were thinking… your weird Manehattan gal was using things from a general store to kill ponies?”
“Ten points to Pink One,” came Sombra’s dry tone, “for realizing that yes, you can in fact kill ponies with the simplest of items if you get creative. Seriously, how did it not occur to you before – me-dammit, you can get rope at a general store, and that’s an obvious one.”
“Not all of us think about Murder 101 every time we go shopping, y’know. That’s for post-Hearth’s Warming agony phases and Nightmare Night, thank you very much.”
Luna cleared her throat. “Perhaps we could save our holiday homicide plans until the season approaches, or did you two wish to continue?”
“Go ahead,” Sombra said, magic plucking Cadance’s fruit medley right out of her grasp. He noted Cadance’s pitiful, silent look with a brief smugness and began to pick at the plate’s contents.
Reluctantly, Cadance moved on, swiping a few trail mix treats with her magic before motioning for Luna to continue.
“So the job stuff… I think I get it now, but does all this mean there’s murderer ponies who like to have certain jobs?”
“Indeed,” Luna dipped her head into a nod. “That is very much the case – just as there are many kinds of ponies more likely to do some deeds than others, but I’m sure you grasp that.”
“Yeah,” Cadance felt herself nodding, understanding settling more comfortably over her. She nibbled her food thoughtfully, letting her eyes shine with bright focus. “Does this mean that there are some ponies that, umm, are more likely to hurt somepony just because of who they are?”
Confusion crossed Luna’s features, overflowing in her wide eyes. “If I understand what you mean, then the answer is not particularly. A condition hardly makes a murderer, and yet you know as well as eye that red flags are no falsehood. Is that what you speak of?”
“No, what I meant was, can a pony be more likely to kill another pony if their gender, y’know, means something that way?”
“Your question is rooted in a fallacy, Pink One,” Sombra cut in, scarfing down a watermelon cube. “What you mean to ask is if there’s currently more known serial murderers of one gender.”
“Yes, that’s what I–”
“Then,” Sombra continued, interrupting her with a swift, authoritative tone clearly coming from somepony who knew the subject, “the answer would be there are slightly more mare murderers – and only because it remains proportional to there being slightly more mares leading non-military lives. Everything remains proportional to the population as a whole.”
“Ooooh!” Cadance swallowed a granola treat quickly. “So then because mares might be more likely to pick certain jobs – there will be more freaky murder ponies of those jobs?”
“Some truth lies in your guess,” Luna clarified, combing at her mane momentarily with her hooves. “Careers are based in matters not just of commonality and disguise. A pony intent on committing such deeds would often want gain – be it materials, fame, or some other means of supplying themselves. Now, with that given to you: Cady, what do you think it is most of these ponies would do?”
“Journalism?” Cadance guessed, scrunching up her muzzle and flicking her ears. “Attention and travel access means they’d know just where to hide a body, yah?”
Sombra was giving her a funnier look than usual, fork frozen mid-bite in his magic. Luna’s look was calm, but unclear.
“Well, uh,” Cadance floundered, “what about gardeners? Everypony needs a gardener! They make bits and know how to dig! Beat that guess, Sombra!”
“I don’t need to guess,” he mutters, “most of these ponies drift to a collection of occupations – unskilled labor, forestry–”
“Which is basically just big-filly gardening.”
“–mercenary work, tinkerers, cart-ponies, couriers, and there are many who avoid having any job at all for the sake of wandering. Knowledge of natural and magical resources can certainly compensate when the risks of staying in Equestrian society just waiting to be caught can be inconvenient. Unemployment and disappearing holds merit, in that case.”
“Remind me to never, ever ask you how you know any of this.”
“Duly noted.”
Luna snorted. “Cadance, I can hardly believe you are an only foal when Som is around you.”
The tiniest bolt of lightning lashed out from Luna’s horn to zap a watermelon cube to ash. Cadance pretended not to hear Luna chiding Sombra for his aim.
“...Which of us is right, Luna?” Cadance asked, distracted with the desire for quick answers and by the curls that kept spilling around her cheeks. It was like they missed some memo that today she wasn’t in the mood for mane-managing. “Is it Sombra? Did he pull a big ol’ God of Smugness on me again?”
“That’s certainly a new one,” Sombra chimed, “I think I almost like it, too.”
Luna made no effort to hide her soft giggles. “Both of you are incorrect. The most popular profession among Equestrian serial murderers are medical ones – nursing, surgeons, and the like.”
Cadance’s mouth hung open and she let out a little squeak. “W-What?”
Sombra shot up, embers of skepticism and mild surprise already showing in his eyes. “Are you sure about that?”
“I’m quite positive,” Luna took in their expressions with a pleased smile. “As I sifted through justice history upon my return, I too, was shocked to see that the most known murderers in Equestria – particularly serial offenders – are overwhelmingly medical sorts, one of the very occupations that would oppose such conduct. Only with much meditation and more research did the reasons behind this becomes clear: a clinical atmosphere supplied with all one’s materials and an environment with a fair share of death make the perfect setup for foulness. As for the ponies –’tis easy to be drawn to such an atmosphere if one seeks to blend in and find unsuspecting outlets for one’s aggression and cruel tendencies. I found much regarding mares with varying levels and habits involving psychopathy that find a strong appeal in the field. Sombra’s guesses made up nearly everything that followed though – particularly unskilled labor and unemployment.”
Crimson magic sparked to life on Sombra’s horn, scratching behind one of his ears. “Count me surprised that pattern is the most prominent. I definitely have some reading to do.”
“Great, now I’m gonna be jumping out of my feathers the next time I have to visit a hospital.”
Sombra flicked his ears, a snake-like half-smile emerging. “Somepony should be in the hospital if she’s jumping out of her feathers.
“Sombra no!” Cadance protested, wings ruffling with offense. “You’re the one who is going to be reading some freaky stuff on how to make a kidney transplant go wrong, so you can’t be making those jokes.”
“First of all, who is going to stop me? Second, what makes you think I don’t already know these kinds of things?
“Luna, please have mercy on me.”
“Oh?” Luna’s smile widened horribly. “Why would I do that?”
“Because I know Sombra won’t.”