Lucky And The Search For Friends.

June 9 2015

Dear Diary

Couldn't sleep last night, everything felt to hot. I hope I'm not getting sick, am I getting sick? I hope I’m not getting sick. Still time waits for no pony, so I've been out to try and make more progress on the whole flying thing (running starts seem to help with the lift off a little), and I can say that the small break in activity hasn't seemed to affect my progress in flying.

I suppose I should explain what caused that break shouldn't I. . . Gah, dammit!  It’s really not that complicated, this new pony I met like 4 days ago, Sunshine Daisy (though she insists on calling herself Margaret for some reason), basically grounded me to my room for a day, all because I told her I had been jumping off of places in order to fly, and then some more things happened, and I called her somethings that were not really nice, and she got mad and yelled some more, and I yelled back, the she called me some really not nice names, and then i think someone broke something, and then there was more yelling, and then-

well basically Sunshine Daisy is a massive bitch-

No, no that’s not the case, Sunshine's really nice, she's not really friendly, well I mean she is but. . . not really friendly in the conventional sense, ya that makes sense. Totally.

I really shouldn't so hung up on this, it’s not really productive, there are more important things to worry about, like getting a working shower system, a shower would be really nice right now, or maybe a cloud shower, like they're made of water right? If I just flew through one of those it’d pretty much be the only bath I'd need right there. . . god I want to start flying soon, real soon.

well ya know what they say about learning new things, practice makes perfect, so I'm heading out to practice now. Talk to ya later diary! Bye!

confused

unhappy

mad

feeling kinda down

-Lucky Raindrops

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“I'm heading out for a while, see ya later Sunshine.” Lucas’s voice drifted from the front hallway, the distinct rough voice quality of her voice, making it rather easy to pick up. Margaret hopped down to the floor (her old recliner was so much larger now), and slowly made the short walk from the living room, to the front door. She didn't need to be in a hurry, after all neither of them had really figured out how to open doors in a efficient manner yet. Besides, she did kind of feel the desire to simply not do this. . .

No, she had told herself that today she ask about the two of them finding a better more stable, shelter and although now wasn't exactly the best of times, she could at least put the idea on the table for when Lucas got back. It was for both of their benefit in the end. There was also the worrying habits of Lucas that Margaret really needed to address at some point. . . no, that could wait a bit longer.

“It’s Margaret dear, and where are you headed?” Though there wasn't exactly much to do. well, social experiences at the very least, because Lucas would almost definitely not be doing anything productive survival wise. The past few days she had come to start to know Lucas, had given her clear indication that she didn't exactly have the best of priorities. Of course her own inaction on survival basics wasn't helping either, but at least she had some form of a plan in comparison.

“Just going out for a walk, clear my head, get some exercise. . .” she trailed of into a incoherent mumble.

“I do hope your not going to ‘practice’ again, it’s not good for your health dear.” Not that Lucas hadn't taken some form of precautions per say, but a stack of pillows was probably not going to actually be that helpful in preventing long term injury. There was also the worry that the poor girl would slip further into her delusion of flight, and move from jumping off the tops of slides, to jumping off the top of roofs.

Lucas didn't reply for a few moments, before shifting guiltily, and muttering a quiet no, and then hastening to open the door. Margaret gave a frustrated snort, and bite onto Lucas's tail (a disgusting but effective method) to stop her from leaving through the front door.

“Now Lucas dear, we talked about this.” she said, using the sternness voice she could possibly muster. “Your little flight practice is dangerous, you could seriously hurt yourself, and besides those wings of your’s are too small -”

“It’s Lucky.” Margaret gritted her teeth. Not this again.

“Lucas dear.” She said, interjecting as much positive emotion into her voice as she could possibly muster at the moment. “You said your name was Lucas, not Lucky.”

“I said my name was Lucas, but now my name is Lucky.” Lucas replied, anger evident in her voice. It made Margaret feel rather scared (she wasn't much for physical confrontation, if she got into a fight with Lucas. . .), but she pushed aside those thoughts for the moment. she wasn't going to let herself get walked over by some young delusional girl. She was the one in charge right now, as she was the adult, it was her responsibility to see that they were okay.

“Lucas dear.” she said in as sweet a voice as possible (she probably still sounded rather frustrated/mad regardless), “You told me that the name your parents gave you was Lucas, and right now I feel more comfortable calling you by your real name, so your name is Lucas.” she said, adding through a strained smile “ All right dear?”

Lucas simply stared back, and for an unbearable moment (if judging from her facial expression), felt that lucas was going to punch her.

“It’s Lucky, Lucky raindrops.” she snapped, her voice and eyes locked in a cold fury. In a angry stride, she walked out the door, not bothering to look back. Margaret was almost grateful for that, because if Lucas had looked back, she would have seen her as a trembling mess on the floor. Someday's, Margaret mused, she really didn't feel like an adult at all.

She shakily stood back up, and trotted back to the living room, to finish reading her book (and maybe have a little cry).

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