16

Suffice to say I feel a little crummy.

I got hammered two days ago. Tried to drink too much coffee to compensate for the hangover. It worked – but I spent most of the rest of yesterday zipping around like a hummingbird ~~on too much coffee~~ I know that’s redundant, but I can’t think of a better ~~comparison word~~ ~~something that means “comparison word” but sounds less dumb~~ ~~I hope you know what I’m talking about~~ WHATEVER UGGGHHHHH

So then last night, I still had the headache, but I was completely exhausted and crashed on my bed.

I woke up, and I’ve still got the hangover. It’s a lot better than it was, but it’s still kind of a headache, which is a slightly lighter shade of crummy. Mostly I kind of feel embarrassed about yesterday. I mean, honestly – I don’t really get hung over, so how much was I DRINKING?

I have a good ~~excuse~~ reason: Applejack’s home-made Cider. ~~You’ve got to try it~~ Once you finally meet me, and if you like that thing, you should give it a try ~~but don’t drink so much that I don’t get any.~~

I told you she wanted to talk to me, right? So that was a couple of days ago, right? Anyways, I hoof it over to her room, knock, go in.

Random detail: her room’s even more sparse than mine. Actually, it hardly has anything in it at all, besides a bed, a couple of chairs, a night stand with a couple of photos on it, and a keg. And I’m pretty sure the keg isn’t normally there. I asked her about it, and she admitted that she felt a lot more comfortable sleeping back at the orchard with the rest of her family. I guess she didn’t feel obligated to move over here. Come to think of it, I guess none of us were strictly ordered to – I probably could have just stayed up in cloudsdale if I wanted. Not that it’s going to stop me from moving my things, since I suppose I probably shouldn’t stop now that I’ve already gotten started ~~which, by the way, is a terrible philosophy and I don’t think you should do it unless you’re me,~~ since I suppose that’s part of who I am.

So she shuts the door, kind of calmly, and then she wants to ask me about how I’m doing. The letter-writing thing, she explains. It seems like I’m really getting into it, and actually settling down and enjoying myself with something entirely new, which is wonderful, and she’s happy that I’m doing it. Honestly, it’s not the sort of thing I was expecting out of her at all – I wasn’t even sure she liked that sort of stuff, and I told her that. So then she told me that she thinks it’s a good idea to keep in touch with others – bonding like normal ponies, bringing them together even if they’re far away. Which I guess is kind of like her, since she’s really got a focus on family and community and all of that sort of stuff. So I tell her thanks, I guess?

“I think it’s starting to change you, too, Sugarcube.” She says.

Which, of course, TOTALLY caught me off guard.

“Thing is”, she said, “I know what you’re like when reading, or when you’re with Tank. Different from flying, right?” Which was completely nonsensical at the time, so I asked her to clarify.

“See, Sugarcube”, she starts, “There’s you when you’ve immersed yourself in something, and then there’s you when something’s hooked you in. It’s less a voluntary thing, trying’ to be happy, and more of happiness just plain suckin’ you right in.”

“Are you nuts?” I ask her. “Are you trying to tell me – Rainbow Dash – that flying isn’t the most awesome thing ever, and that I don’t think of it as the most awesome thing ever?”

“Naw,” she says with this little smile. “just a different kind of happy.”

I blew that remark off at the time, but looking back on it, I’m not entirely sure she was wrong. I mean, don’t get me wrong – flying is TOTALLY the best thing ever – but I guess tank makes me happy in a more mushy-gushy sort of way that flying’s awesomeness, coolness and radicalness does. Or reading’s immersing-gotta-flip-the-next-page-if-it’s-good way. So is that sorta the same way with you? But what would I even call that? “doing-something-day-after-day-even-though-i-don’t-have-a-good-reason-why-I’m-even-doing-it-at-all” happy? ~~Whatever.~~

She then went on to say that I guess I was supposedly a bit quieter than usual. Wondered if that was because I was being more thoughtful. Thought that having this sort of pen-pal was good for me. Yadda yadda yadda, same sort of things Twilight’s been saying about me, whatever. I guess some ponies just have to have a quote-unquote motherly instinct about wanting to protect others? And, really, this isn’t anything new to say about me, I guess.

Except that it makes the whole Twilight’s-in-cahoots thing a bit different. It’s not that she’s trying to change me, but I guess I’m being changed, and Twilight was just supposed to be an observer?

This whole thing is feeling ridiculous. I mean, what, I start reading a bit and writing a bit and suddenly I’m magically somepony else? Gee, whiz, you want to declare today a national holiday and start throwing a ticker-tape parade while we’re all gratuitously overreacting about nothing?

I guess the truth is that I don’t know what I’m supposed to think anymore. What exactly is it supposed to mean when I indulge somepony who has a crush on me by writing to her? I’ve always been pretty bad at getting implications or understanding nuances or anything like that. That’s more Rarity’s thing.

Am I supposed to be falling for you? Is that what’s supposed to be happening? I dunno – just because you spend a little over two weeks writing at somepony, it doesn’t make them a special somepony. Right?

Doesn’t feel like it to me, anyway.

But I took it for what it was then, and I’ll take it for what it is now. I think Applejack mostly just meant for things to be friendly, and to do that thing where I guess I’m supposed to come to her if I want to talk about anything. News flash: She makes this offer to everypony. News Flash Two: I’m not exactly a sniveling bag of angst, thank you very much.

Criminy, my writing hoof hurts.

Long story short, she brought out some of her reserve stock of cider after that. Said she saved it for me after the last few years, when I’ve gotten utterly and completely screwed out of any of that stuff. I drunk way, way, way too much, and here I am now.

And “now” is going to mean seeing if Rarity can get me some kind of salve for my hoof after dropping off this letter. I’m really not supposed to be writing this much, you know? This is actually not really supposed to be my thing. So, yeah, if I’m a bit more terse in the future – sorry about that.

Ouch forever,

-Rainbow Dash

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17

RAINBOW DASH

So this isn’t my colored ink. I actually borrowed it off of the squirt, who was using it with the rest of her Cutie Mark Crusader buddies for cutie mark…kaligrafers? I’m not sure how to spell that. Why’d I swing by? Figured that so long as I was talking to everypony else about nothing in particular, I might as well see how her little group of friends was doing. (spoiler alert: no cutie marks yet. I lost track of how many things they had tried a long time ago.)

(okay, look, the rest of my spelling is because Twilight insists on talking like that all the time. But I’ve never heard her talking about Kaligrafy before, so I’m at a loss. Should have asked Twilight about it. Actually, let me go do that really quickly.)

Calligraphy. Wow, that’s totally not intuitive at all. Uh, I’m just going to leave the stuff I had up there before, if that’s okay with you. Also, apparently it doesn’t involve using colored ink, but she’s not the boss of me and I want to do it anyway.

I actually really used to like painting when I was a filly. I mean, I ~~didn’t~~ don’t know anything about style or technique or schools or blah blah blah whatever yet again, but colors are cool. I mean, you can probably tell by the mane, right? It’s awesome because it’s colorful, which is awesome. And I guess the only pony that I’d be able to talk to about that is Twilight (ugh), and she’s only got two colors and they’re pretty similar.

I don’t have the pink, though, ~~and that’s kind of pretty~~

Still, the point is – before I could really get the hang of flying (which really wasn’t long at all, but it’s not like everypony can fly right out of birth, except apparently one of the cake children? Can’t remember which, but I’ll keep an eye on that one), I used to love mucking around with hoofpainting. It was bright, it was colorful, it was me. Apparently, I used to mix all the colors together and stick the paper on my face and walk around pretending I was made of rainbows. Weird, right? Fillies will be fillies, I guess. Not that I remember it, but it doesn’t sound entirely dissimilar from what I’d do.

Red is a pretty awesome color, all things considered. Probably my third favorite, maybe second. It kicks a lot of butt and looks really bright and energetic and awesome. Also, it’s the color of blood, which is kind of hardcore, right?

Orange I don’t like nearly as much, but I guess it reminds me of applejack and pumpkins. Which reminds me of nightmare night, and getting your pranks on then is FUN. Except when I got spooked back by princess Luna (note: not cool. I don’t care if she’s a princess or not). Still, black is just kind of…black, so for nightmare night Orange is definitely better.

Yellow is the wonderbolts’ lightning bolts, and lightning in general, which is again kind of hardcore. Also, it’s the sun, which makes things warm and the perfect time to nap. (for the record, napping gives you more energy to fly totally radically amazingly cool, so even awesome ponies do it). Second favorite color, maybe third. Also I guess the color of fluttershy, but I more associate her with

Green, which is the color of nature and stuff I guess? And since she likes living on the ground more than she does in the air and I can’t really blame her for that, it fits her better. I don’t know, I don’t really spend a lot of time at ground level if I don’t have to. But colors are colors, right? So there’s that.

Indigo kind of looks like black, so it’s definitely the least cool of the colors of the rainbow. Still, it’s a color in the rainbow, and that makes it one of the most awesome colors. DEFINITELY only the seventh-most-awesome, though.

Purple’s probably sixth, then; it’s girly. I mean, undeniably so, let’s be honest. But at least it’s the color of Rarity’s mane and Twilight Sparkle’s…everything? So, that’s good. And like I mentioned, colors of the rainbow are all pretty cool. So basically, if I sound like I’m being hard on them, I’m not. Especially

Blue. Ta-dah! It’s the best color ever made! Color of the sky, which is flying, which is awesome. Also the color of me, like, my body and everything in addition to the mane. So I know it came between Green and Indigo, but you’ve got to save the best for last, right? Except for presents, where you basically get the best stuff first before someone else opens it for you. I’d call that a metaphor, but present ambushing was a pretty big tradition in flight camp, which tended to make Hearth Warming’s day pretty fun and kinda violent.

Kinda weird to think about this again! I haven’t thought about colors in a while. I mean, even with art and stuff like that, I tend to leave it up to Rarity, ‘cause that’s, like, half of her life right there. Also it means less for me to have to worry about, which means more flying, which is – guess what? – awesome.

Not that it wasn’t fun, though. What about you? I figure you’re probably like green, by which I mean like Fluttershy, by which I mean kind of shy and stuff, but I don’t think I’ll be able to find out one way or another.

I should probably return the colored ink. I’ll ask the squirt where I can find more, and buy a set for myself. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not going to make my letters look like an arts and crafts project, but I kind of had fun doing this, so maybe I’ll do it again in the future. Who knows?

Your pal,

RAINBOW DASH

P.S. I ran into Twilight on the way back from dropping off the ink. She told me it also involves writing fancy and that colors don’t actually have anything to do with it, but that sounds less fun and I’m not gonna do it. I also said that she should try writing with colored ink sometime, and I think she took me seriously. Did I just start a trend in our group? That would be pretty cool.

P.P.S Okay, so I was curious. I tried smearing paint on a piece of paper and sticking it on my face, but I couldn’t see anything but blobs of color and now there’s stuff kind of gluing my eyelashes open. Also, I got some of it in my mouth, and my mouth tastes like a butt now. I’m going to go take a shower before I stick this letter in the time capsule, and maybe use some mouthwash or something.

P.P.P.S In case it wasn’t obvious, don’t tell anypony about the paint thing, and don’t try it for yourself. Seriously, paint tastes like butts.

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18

Let me clarify: butts taste bad. I’ve licked them, I’m not a fan.

Now, the other thing. I mean, I think we both know what I’m talking about, right? But yeah – that can taste good. I mean, I’m going to assume that we both are cool with talking about this, because we’re both interested that way, right? I mean, I’m pretty sure you are, and I know that I am. But I’m not sure that you’ve actually…

Guh. Why is this awkward to bring up with someone who doesn’t talk and won’t tell anypony else? I mean, even in LIGHT of…okay, whatever. It’s a thing.

Something you might not know: Griffons do not taste good. They’re all meaty and kind of a little bit nasty. I think they like each other, which I guess makes sense, because like meets like with species, but it doesn’t work the other way across. ~~She even said that I was too sweet for her taste, not that it stopped us.~~ Eww, okay, that might be a *bit* too personal.

But yeah, we definitely taste the best as a species, and that varies from source to source. ~~Don’t blame me for this, okay? I was young, we were all young, we wanted to experiment, it was fun, and pubescent drama is just pubescent drama.~~

~~What happens at flight academy stays at flight academy~~

~~Okay, I guess there’s no way to phrase that politely, bugger it~~

Apparently, I actually taste better than anypony else.

~~In case you needed a little motivation~~

Okay, why the hay did I decide to start talking about…THAT part of my life? Just weird. I’m being weird. This whole thing started as a digression from yesterday’s letter, and the extrapolation on a metaphor wasn’t necessary in the first place.

~~So. Let’s move on.~~

Actually, let’s clear something else up first. I actually haven’t dated anypony SINCE flight academy, okay? Not that I don’t like anypony else, but I just don’t think of them that way. Besides, official romance is a lot of unnecessary drama. It doesn’t HAVE to be, but inevitably things end up getting too serious, and the whole thing gets tangled up in a snarl of obligations and implications and the sort of hypercharged emotions that ruin perfectly nice friendships. Noooooooo thank you. Which doesn’t mean I’m going to break your heart! I’m flattered that you like me that way. Just saying – our attitudes and interests are probably different, so I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for.

~~Have you tried Applejack, actually?~~

Wow, that sounded really callous. Okay, just want to clarify further. Out of the ponies I know, I’m pretty sure Rarity and Twilight are only into colts. (I know Twilight looks like she has a thing for her mentors, but she seemed hurt when I went too far about the teasing – not embarrassed, HURT – and I kind of realized she must have gotten teased about it a lot and it probably wasn’t true and I think I hurt her feelings. ~~I’m a bad friend~~ I’m a less good friend than I’d like to be). Fluttershy’s got that thing with Discord, and Pinkie Pie seems like she’s got some emotional issues to work out, if that whole deal with her surprise birthday party was any indication.

And me… I’ve got my own issues to work out, too. You might have guessed.

Didn’t want to leave it hanging here, so I took a half-hour break and came back here to write some more. I bet it just looks like the next second over to you, though. Let me assure you, though, it’s not.

That came across as kind of cold, okay? I *like* you, I really do. I’m flattered that you care enough to keep reading these, and that – you’ve confirmed with Twilight, if nopony else – that you actually really kind of like me despite all my hostility and rambling conversations. I figured that my crazy banter would have warned you off, but…it’s like the reverse vulnerable, you know? Like I could say anything here and you’ld understand, by virtue of not having to interject your own opinion, but *listening* nonetheless.

So, yeah. Here I am. On one hoof, sonic rainboom, wonderbolts, element of harmony. On the other hoof, sticking paint on my face, neglecting showers, had more sex in the six months after my flowering than most ponies have in their entire life.

If things get a bit weird from here on out, at least you hopefully know what you’re getting into.

Neurotically yours,

-Rainbow Dash.

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19

Do me a favor, okay? The second you don’t want to read these anymore, stop taking the letters out of the time capsule – or put them back, really. It’ll let me know when I’ve said too much, and I’ll know that I’ve gotten too weird.

Brace yourself. I feel like I kind of opened the floodgate with the whole ramble-thing yesterday, whatever you want to call it, and I’m not sure there’s any going back. If you’re going to listen to me talk about anything, the infinite monkeys on infinite typewriters are eventually going to run into something profoundly weird.

I guess on a less weird note, uh…

It’s been over half a month. The castle, as far as I can tell, is working out just fine for everypony. My Cloudsdale house is almost bare, and I’ve got virtually all my stuff inside of the castle now.

I’m trying to get used to eating at the great hall-ish table, but it feels wrong. Fundamentally awkward. That sort of dressing is for ponies that…

…are of high regard and who commune together, a band of legends. Which is, actually, us.

But I don’t feel like it. I’m not even sure I want to feel like it. Don’t get me wrong; I’m pretty sure that I’m happy with my life. And I do eventually want to be a wonderbolt and get international acclaim.

I just don’t want to live it, you know? My house was fine the way it is. Ponyville is fine the way it is. I don’t need to surround myself from pure crystal and eat at massive tables. I mean, what comes next? Solid gold utensils? Statues everywhere? Pegasus down pillows? If you could have glory without the trappings, I’d be happy.

If nothing else, trappings lead to expectations, expectations lead to obligations. And unless you’re very careful, obligations are trouble. I got lucky when I decided to befriend the other elements of harmony. My luck isn’t always like that, and I can’t count on it happening again.

But maybe you’re luckier. Maybe you’re wiser. Better at making the decisions that matter. And you know, I want to believe that. But you decided, out of all of us, to be interested in me.

I don’t think that was very wise of you.

Reiterating her warnings,

-Rainbow Dash

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