Prologue: Of Push Brooms and Cutie Marks
If I'm going to tell you the adventure of my life -- explain how I got to this place with these people, and do what I'm going to do next -- I should probably start by explaining a few things about push brooms.
What is a push broom? A push broom is a device, held in one's magic, that is issued to all maintenance staff of a stable when they are assigned their occupation. A broom with an extended brush on one end that extends to both sides, a push broom can be pushed, can be pulled, and will help you clean a room in ten seconds flat. It can also assist you in brushing cobwebs down, and, should the need arise, help you reach out of the way areas without causing your barding to be in need of washing or stain removal.
Other than that, it's only real use is as a weapon, though.
Seeing as a push broom's only practical purpose is to clean up dirt, dust, and trash, it shouldn't come as a surprise when I say that getting a cutie mark of one was, well, like getting a cutie mark of garbage. I was a unicorn, expected to enter administration at worst, government at best. But here I was, doing (to be blunt), an Earth pony job.
Which isn't to say, of course, that I was bad at it; I wasn't. It just wasn't what I was expecting to do with my life. I was practically nocturnal due to my job, had no friends due to my nocturnal nature, and had my job because of my destiny.
My destiny was apparently to clean the hell out of Stable 2. Which was honestly depressing when I thought about it. So I didn't. Whenever the fact that I was destined to be a janitor started to bring me down, I alternated between listening to Velvet Remedy's music and fantasizing about what could have been.
As a filly, I'd wanted to be part of Velvet Remedy's production team. It was entirely composed of unicorns, out of practicality, and was for those who had talent in music but were not good enough to be considered "stage material". A backstage to Velvet's front stage, if you will.
Needless to say, that dream hadn't worked out. I had been banned by the overmare from attempting to pursue a musical career after only two days of trying. So I went for the next best thing: administration. At least then I'd have the opportunities to help ponies. And the added bonus of being able to dicuss things with Velvet Remedy hadn't hurt.
Well, one accident later involving the artificial sun for the stable orchards, I'd been banned from the administration section as well. So I'd tried a wide variety of things, ranging from a learning to pick locks all the way to teaching myself how to paint. Or, rather, how not to paint.
After all the years I'd spent trying to get a cutie mark, I eventually took the Cutie-Mark Aptitude Test, which, much to my humiliation, told me flat out that I'd be good at either picking apples or cleaning the stable. Seeing as I was a unicorn, who are notably bad at picking apples (we lack the delicate control, apparently), the Overmare, despite her reluctance, allowed me to apprentice as a janitor.
Huh. Maybe she just didn't want me near the apple orchards again, in hindsight.
But anyways, I went through multiple types of janitorial training, along with the schooling that went with them -- I still can't see something with mildew and not gag -- and none of them had done anything until the last one. The nighttime upper level janitors. The ones with the push brooms.
I'd held my first push broom my eleventh day in training. It just fit in my hooves, and magic, perfectly, and before long I was sweeping. I'm told it was comical how much fun I seemed to be having.
I should mention now that each of those training sessions involved videos, pictures, and lectures. The lectures I could have lived through. But some of the things they'd shown me? I still see them in nightmares. You might say that as a result I have a bit of mysophobia.
But it hasn't impacted my life substantially. I don't think so anyways. The stable had never been cleaner, apparently, thanks to me, and at least I hadn't been raised with big hopes for my future. My mother was not what you would call an inspiring one. I'd never known my father, but from what I've heard from various ponies he was an okay sort of pony, if a bit scatter brained at times.
But the fact is, I'd never been encouraged by my sole parent and I wasn't really the sort of pony worth encouraging unless you were my parent. I was smart enough to do my job and to learn the spells I needed to know (however bad at them I might have been) and that was enough for most.
Oh, and did I mention how terrible I am at magic? I, a magical unicorn in a magical world, was, in the words of my tutor, "barely competent at even sterilizing magic, and likely to magically neuter someone if she tried to cast a wide spread version of it."
But that's fine. I was okay with not being the most magical magical unicorn. I had the capability to destroy the abomination that is mildew, so truly. I am fine.
...Seriously, mildew is the worst. The THINGS it does to other things.
...
Okay so maybe I'm only mostly fine.
But yes. It was this hatred of mildew and enjoyment of Velvet Remedy and lack of love or friendship that led me do something I'd never even considered doing before: leaving Stable 2. Leaving my home, and its cleanliness for the mildew infested wasteland.
Nice to meet you. I'm Littlepip.
