Bombletsby CarabasChaptersTalking HeidsMereswineSuspensionDawnMartial Mare Matrimony on the MariaTalking HeidsAuthor's Note Monday 7th Prompt - First meeting (S1Ep1) Talking Heids “Heyo. Are you, ah, open just now, or — gah!” “Good day, sir, and welcome to Carousel Boutique! But first and foremost, I must regale you.” “Regale me? I, um. You’re the proprietress here, I take it? I was wondering if you could fit me out with a —” “I’ll take your measurements while I regale you, sir. Let nopony say I can’t multitask. Let’s get that barding off as well. Now, to business. It’s all concerning the pony I had in just before your good self. I’ve felt like a shaken champagne bottle ever since she left; I’ve been aching to uncork and tell somepony about her. You don’t mind being that somepony, I hope?” “I … I can do my best to be an audience, miss, but if I could just —” “So picture the scene, sir. There I am, adrift in the zone, right where you’re standing. Applying a few finishing touches to this Summer Sun Celebration’s decor. Picking out a suitable ribbon with a patina of sparkle, just to catch the light, you know. Somepony enters, seeking my assistance, or so I presumed. So I finish my task, turn to greet them, and what do I behold?” “A pony worth regaling others about, I guess?” “A vision, sir. A vision. Let nopony tell you that being starstruck at first sight exists only in novels. There she stood, a lovely little dragon by her side, and I drank the whole of her in at a glance. From her fetlocks to her mane, the picture of Canterlot reserve and grace, save for … well, save for her mane.” “Her mane?” “Her mane. And right there, right then, I had to do something. One must live up to their humble raison d’etre, after all. There’s beauty in everypony, and I presume only to … coax it to the forefront, as it were, wherever it should need coaxing. And I shan’t lie. Her mane was in need of some rather severe coaxing. But all the rest of her … goodness, I’m not altogether she knew what an oil painting she was. A mare could and did get lost in those violet eyes of hers. And that coat — is lavender the shade? No, no, I’m thinking of mulberry. What a lovely word. Doesn’t it just roll off the tongue?” “Miss, are you talking about Twilight Sparkle?” “I … possibly I am. Is that her na …?” “... Miss? You’ve gone quiet.” “...oh, Celestia’s fetlocks, I forgot to ask her her name.” “Happens to the best of us, miss.” “You — you know her, then? Ah, wait, of course, this is royal guardspony barding. You’d have come with her from Canterlot, then? Entourage, or … ah ...?” “Entourage, miss. Sky-chariots shan’t pull themselves.” “Oh. Well, that’s good. That’s, ah, very good. Though I do hope I haven’t made a dreadful mess of things. Perhaps I might have been a touch … overbearing. I really did just want to do justice to her, though. That mane couldn’t be allowed to stand. And as a purely secondary objective, I might have wanted to show her my talents, just a little bit. To get through the pony within that reserve. I do hope I didn’t make too terrible a first impression.” “She’ll be supervising the rest of the Summer Sun Celebrations here, miss. Plenty of scope to make a second impression, if you’re worried.” “True. Well, I shall do my best. Though, ah, lest I make a fool of myself, do you know whether she’s got a significant other at present? Surely she must be admired far and wide within Canterlot.” “Couldn’t speak from personal experience on the latter front, miss. Been married to another stallion for nigh-on five years now. But I don't think she’s attached to anypony at present, no.” “Ah. Very good. Well, good second impressions or complete foolery it’ll be, then. Truly obliged for your help, sir.” “No trouble, miss. Though if you were to repay me at all … well, I did come in here to tog myself up a bit.” “Gracious, so you did. Apologies for letting that fall by the wayside. What sort of apparel would you like this day?” “Just a nice jacket-and-waistcoat number, something nice. Five-year anniversary coming up, you know, and I want to look the part for him. Though I’d as well get something here and bring it back. Haven’t got much of a sense for these things, but … well, you seem to. Mind advising? If you’re not too busy with Summer Sun stuff, of course.” “Not at all, sir. A little sparkle’s clarified whatever doubts I had there. Now, let’s see what I can do for you.” MereswineAuthor's Note Tuesday 8th Prompt - Mane swap / Species swap Mereswine “You know what?” said Twilight, drifting in place, her words coming out amidst a stream of bubbles. “That settles it. From now, I check and double-check and triple-check the small print on a spell before casting it. And if there’s no small print and the whole bottom half of the parchment shows clear sign of water damage, I dwell on why that might be.” “I still fail to see a problem in this outcome, darling,” Rarity swept past Twilight in a blur of white softly streaked with pale purple. Powerful beats of her tail drove her muscled length on through the water. Unexpectedly transforming into a dolphin had been the cause of some initial consternation, as it would for most ponies, but she seemed to have recovered with aplomb. “Ooh, watch me leap!” Twilight continued drifting as Rarity swept up and leapt up past the water surface with a crash. There came a few muffled ‘Ooh’s and applause from those ponies that lingered on the lake’s bank — and all due credit to them for quickly heaving two new, surprised, and wheezing cetaceans to the most apt place possible. She swept around, arcing her own mulberry-tinted length in the surrounding blue of the deep lake water, and tried to get a good view of herself, one eye at a time. Seeing both sides of the world had been a little disorienting at first. As had propelling herself with a tail and flippers. And having to resurface every so often to breathe. And adjusting to a lack of magic. Frankly, there hadn’t been much that hadn’t disorientated. At least Rarity seemed to be bearing up well. “A narwhal would have been a bit more convenient,” Twilight muttered to herself. “They’ve been observed to use magic with their own horns in the wild, so there’s no logical reason we couldn’t have —” A sudden crash back down into the water behind her stole Twilight’s attention, and she turned to see Rarity coursing back down to her position, blinking somewhat dazedly. “Oof,” Rarity murmured. “Bit of a belly-flop there. Still, practise makes perfect.” She smiled at Twilight, the motion coming more easily to her mouth than usual. “Aren’t you going to indulge in a leap or two, Twilight?” “I will. Soon. There’s just something I want to test.” Twilight flapped and tried to angle herself to face the expanse of the lake away from the bank, where the furthest edges were all but swallowed by blueness and shadows. She closed her eyes, tried to breath out, accidentally spouted underwater instead, and after recovering herself, clicked. The little waves that flurried forth from her in the water were invisible to the eye, and so were the little waves that came rushing back in, bouncing off whatever surfaces they found. With the sudden clarity of a lightning bolt to the skull, Twilight’s world filled. Awareness of the contours of things inveigled into her head, the positions and ruggedness of the furthest banks and lakebed, the shifting shoals of suddenly-uneasy fish that shared the lake with them. And the form of Rarity, drifting at her back. Smiling, Twilight knew without turning. “Hah.” Twilight felt light-headed, the map of their territory spread open before her, and she turned to Rarity. “Well. If it’s not outright magic, it’s a close cousin. You’ve got to try that.” “Should I?” the ex-unicorn replied teasingly. “Oh, I could. It does seem to have enraptured you. But perhaps you could help me with a little display?” “What sort of display?” “A synchronised leap straight up and a flip forward, little more.” Rarity batted her eyes. “Think of all those gallant ponies on terra firma. I think they ought to see a little dophining, if that’s a verb. And … well, you could breathe at the same time. You do need to do that from time to time, Twilight.” That might also explain the light-headedness. Twilight grinned abashedly. “Alright. On your mark.” “Excellent. Remember, straight up. Bend forwards into the flip. In parallel, if we can manage it.” Rarity twirled a short way back through the water, coming round to face Twilight from several metres away, and angled herself up at the glimmering surface. “Ready?” Twilight nodded, and fought to right herself when the rest of her body wobbled into the motion. “...Ready.” “Now!” With one flap, Rarity sped up through the water like a bullet, and blue blurred past Twilight on all sides as she rushed to follow her. The surface rushed at her, the lights dancing within it growing larger and brighter as it grew nearer, nearer, nearer ... And then, air. Air and sunlight, impossibly bright and cold and sudden, flashing off Twilight’s wet hide as she rocketed up right out of the water. There was a gleam of green on one side, she dimly registered, and the sound of ponies whooping. Stages of the plan clacked through her mind like clockwork, though, and as she glimpsed Rarity’s white form bending forwards into a flip, Twilight did likewise, a fraction of a second behind. She arched forward, her body bending into a comma shape as she tucked her head down and her tail reflexively rose to meet it. Blue skies and blue water wheeled, and then, the instant after, the water swallowed her up again. For a moment, Twilight drifted, and settled. The hubbub from the ponies and sun-glare down here came muffled, was made distant and peaceful by the enveloping water. She relaxed for a moment, before her thoughts stole back to the show she and Rarity had just provided … … and what exactly their audience on land would have seen. “Rarity?” she said. “Yeeeees, Twilight?” The white dolphin wiggled gently towards her, all innocence. “Did … did you just arrange for us to form the shape of a love-heart from the audience’s point of view.” “Je ne regrette rien, darling.” “That is so—” Rarity playfully poked Twilight’s snout with her own and whirled around, making for the surface again. “How long did you say the spell was estimated to last before it wore off?” “I … a day, give or take an hour or two.” “Then come, come, show me that trick you did with the click. And after that, we’ve got plenty of time yet to practise our shapes.” SuspensionAuthor's Note Wednesday 9th - Watching horror movies / Cooking Suspension A blood-smeared zombie shambled through the night towards an unsuspecting stallion, inch by squirm-inducing inch, and Twilight Sparkle, to Rarity’s mild aggravation, felt it apt to provide technical details. “Fake blood,” Twilight whispered, as the magical motor of the little projector at their backs clattered and flickered its heart out, behind the sofa they’d sprackled across. “Knackerton Gore, if I’m any judge. Mixed parts syrup, corn flour, and food colouring.” Rarity suppressed a sigh as the alicorn’s voice managed to disperse whatever chills had inveigled up her spine. Before her, the black-and-white image of the zombie shuffled on across the screen, while the stallion assumed an expression of beatific happiness with the universe and their lot within it. “That’s fascinating, darling, but—” “I mean, all the ethical issues with getting real blood aside, it coagulates too quickly. Impossible to keep looking suitably bloody for extended shoots. And it doesn’t show up well under studio lights. Especially for monochromatic productions like this.” “I’ll take your word for it.” “And that’s not an actual flesh-eating zombie. They’ll have sourced a docile one from the alchemist-necromancers in Zebrica, and somepony’ll be jangling keys off-camera to coax it forward. Did you know there’s one zombie who’s been loaned out to nearly every studio for decades now? Old Shuffles. They awarded him an Oatscar once. Best Supporting Act—” Said zombie and their intended victim seemed to be taking a frustratingly long time to fulfil the roles nature expected of them. “Twilight, hush shush. A film’s unfolding. Let yourself be drawn in. Suspend disbelief a touch.” Twilight flinched and looked abashed. “Oh. Sorry.” A moment’s pause, and then she said, “I read a book once that was all about the behind-the-scenes work in moving pictures. Once you know about the workings … well, you can’t un-know them.” Rarity wriggled around on the sofa to face Twilight, and a subtle smile flickered around her muzzle. “And you’d never try to distract yourself by recounting the details, of course.” Twilight flushed. “I … well—” Clockwork turned in her head, and Rarity leaned in closer till she was all but eye-to-eye to Twilight. It didn’t do a thing to ameliorate the alicorn’s flush, and Rarity was quite alright with that. “If you want to do something really helpful during this picture, darling,” she purred, “then you ought to know that I’m just dreadful when it comes to horror.” “You are?” “Oh yes. No coping ability at all. I’ll badly need some pony to hold onto and to hold onto me in return.” She teasingly nuzzled Twilight’s neck. “Why, aren’t you some pony?” She was pleased to note that it seemed to be working. Twilight seemed altogether distracted by her, and didn’t have the air of one about to provide a fascinating factoid about the mechanics of horror picture production. She seemed, in fact, quite drawn in. “Well,” Twilight murmured. “I have been accused of being that, from time to ti—” Then, that instant, a violin was abruptly tortured, a bestial roar rang out, and a blood-curdling shriek followed immediately after. Rarity whirled back on the screen to find the scene a great deal more splattery than hitherto. Her heart leapt, if not all the way up into her mouth, and she took a moment — just a moment — to prepare a good, dramatic shriek and to swoon into Twilight’s hooves. That best-laid scheme quickly ganged agley, however, when the alicorn at her side screamed and all but leapt out of her hide and onto Rarity, forelegs clutching at her. Rarity yelped and all but fell back across the sofa, but forethought caught up and spiked that plan of action as she briefly met Twilight’s wide, violet gaze. Ponies who’d just been embraced for comfort’s sake in the face of a zombie eating some unlucky stallion shouldn’t just fall over like that. There were standards to uphold. And besides, there was something soothing about the hammering heartbeat under the soft hide pressed into her. As well as the fact she’d been the first port of call for a hug like that. “Disbelief suspended, then?” Rarity wheezed after a moment. Twilight breathed heavily and eased her grip a bit. She turned back to the screen, where the first burst of splatteriness had passed and the camera was now spending time dwelling on the aftermath. “M—more Knackerton Gore, soaked and shredded sponges, mashed apples for the zombie to chew on, and a lot of papier-mâché,” Twilight trembled out. “See, the camera angle’s c—covering up a lot of it. The light’s on the zombie’s face. Draws the eye away from the effect. There — there’s a limit to how real they can make it without illusion magic. Which would b—be cheating.” “I believe you, darling,” Rarity said gently, hugging Twilight closer, somewhat nonplussed, and yet not altogether displeased. “Tell me more. You have a most eager audience.” DawnAuthor's Note Thursday 10th - National day / Home life Dawn Under darkness, Rarity made her way up the hill, her saddlebags bulging and her horn casting a steady blue light to see by. It was still night, the velvety blackness brushed with whorls of stars and the moon crowning one horizon, and it would remain night for a few minutes yet. Time enough to get things ready. Reaching the grassy summit, Rarity took a moment to catch her breath before getting to work. Unclasping her saddlebags, she drew out their contents, one item at a time. A folded checkered blanket, which she spread out. Two carefully-wrapped china cups and a thermos, and the contents of the latter were poured into the former. Two stemmed glasses and a corked bottle. A spread of sandwiches (crusts removed, of course) and a generous slab of chocolate gateau. And, because there was no such thing as too much care going into presentation, a thin glass vase into which she inserted a nearby flower. As she arranged everything in pleasing patterns across the blanket, there came a flash and a bang from the direction of Ponyville. Rarity didn’t have to look around to recognise the sound of another firework being let off ahead of schedule. When she’d left, the main street and square around the town hall had already been a riot of light and festivity. It’d be too much to hope that Sweetie Belle and her friends would be entirely well-behaved in the midst of it all, but the others would stop them from wreaking too much havoc with any luck. Some years, no matter the opportunities it offered for her muse to inflict itself on any and all decorations required, she felt the Summer Sun Celebration could be more trouble than it was worth. Not this year, though. Her preparations done, Rarity settled down on the blanket to watch the eastern horizon. She waited there in the pre-dawn hush, Ponyville muffled and distant, the distant shape of Twilight’s castle made a glittering tower of reflected starlight. She didn’t have to wait long. Over the lip of the horizon, there appeared a thin band of gold. It rippled upwards, suffusing the darkness with blue and orange in its wake. And up after it, there came the sunrise. Up it came, pressing the darkness back and casting more brilliant light and colours across the sky. The moon drew back in tandem, falling below its own horizon in perfect synchrony with the sun, while the light of the stars was engulfed by the day. Rarity held her breath as the sun ascended, the motion of it controlled and steady, and only when it gradually began to slow, winding back down to a normal orbit’s pace, did she finally release that breath. Between the sun’s new position and the horizon it had drifted up from, far in the direction of Canterlot, it was just about possible to make out a single purple point in the sky, their purple wings spread, their corona of magic fading as the sun’s motion slowed. They hovered there for a moment. From Ponyville below, Rarity could hear cheers and whoops and more unsafe use of fireworks as the Summer Sun Celebration got stuck into earning the third word of its title. High above, the purple point lingered a moment longer, still and brilliant against the newly blue sky. And, in another flash of magic, they vanished. And reappeared next to Rarity on the blanket. Rarity turned, beaming fit to burst at Twilight Sparkle. The alicorn’s legs wobbled, and she let herself collapse onto the blanket, panting raggedly as her horn smoked gently. “I did it,” Twilight murmured. “You did it wonderfully,” Rarity said, leaning in to kiss Twilight’s cheek. “They didn’t have the broadest list of candidates to delegate to, I concede, but Celestia and Luna couldn’t have chosen somepony better.” Twilight blinked dazedly, let out a brief, giddy laugh, and unsteadily picked up one of the cups of tea in her magic. She drained it, set it down, and then cast beseeching eyes at the cake. She looked imploringly at Rarity, who smiled and nodded. Twilight needed little further urging, and attended to business for the next few minutes while Rarity admired her handiwork. Eventually, Twilight’s head rose, with slightly more of a patina of chocolate than it had had previously. Her expression had grown pensive, and Rarity eyed her with concern. “Twilight?” For a moment, she was silent. Then Twilight said, “I thought it might have wobbled at one point.” “It did no such thing. You were smooth as clockwork.” “Are you sure?” “I saw it all, darling.” Twilight settled for a moment. And then, “You’re absolutely sure it didn’t wobble—?” “Twilight Sparkle, you terribly silly pony,” Rarity said gently, leaning in close to the alicorn’s neck, “heed me when I say you were perfect.” Twilight’s pensiveness lost its edge, and she returned the lean. “Just checking,” she said. “When everypony’s watching, it’s hard not to think that sort of thing.” She glanced down at Ponyville below and took a steadying breath. “I’ll have to head down sometime soon. To show face.” “Sometime soon,” Rarity said. She lifted up the glasses and bottle with her magic, and proferred the latter to Twilight. “But not now. Not yet.” And, better than any sunrise in Rarity’s estimation, a gentle smile dawned on Twilight’s face. She reached out with her own magic, and with one twist, uncorked the bottle. Fizz coursed up, caught the sunlight, and for a moment on that hilltop, cut a rainbow across the dawn. Martial Mare Matrimony on the MariaAuthor's Note Friday 11th - A wedding Martial Mare Matrimony on the Maria “Rarity, of all the possible times —” “We are well past most possible times, Twilight! Events have obstructed us at every turn for weeks now, but no more, I say! I insist that you marry me, here and now!” Rarity would have kept talking, had she not been obliged to turn around and shoot a kelpie between the eyes. “But priorities!” Most of the conversation was shouted, due to the ongoing kerfuffle on all sides as their ship was attacked. A mob of kelpie pirates had arisen out of the salty depths astride a tamed kraken, and were in the process of ruining what had been a lovely sunny day with plans for a wedding in the afternoon. Sailors yelled, steel screamed, tentacles whipped hither and thither, flintlock pistols fired every which way. “Priorities other than marrying the mare who owns my heart and love wholesale, at long, long last?” said Rarity scornfully, her magic reloading her brace of flintlocks. She stepped to one side to avoid a scrum of violence that rolled across the deck. Pinkie bounced atop it, shouting ‘Whee!’ as she went. “I wasn’t aware they so much as existed.” “There’s a few, believe me!” “Well, I refuse to let us be sidelined by peripheral trivia, darling!” Rarity floated up her pistols and discharged them to either side, was rewarded with a brace of pained squawks, and lobbed the pistols themselves the same ways to be rewarded with yet more squawks. A boom rang out from the bow and a cutlass clattered across the deck in front of her, along with disassociated bits of kelpie. Rarity smoothly scooped it up. “Do you not remember how delayed this day has been?” “Yes, Rarity, I was there for all the delays too! But —” Twilight broke off as she flapped out of the way of the seething magics of the kelpie warlock-captain, and snapped off a crackling purple bolt his way. It was all the opening Rarity needed. “A lovely little ceremony in the Orkneigh Islands, arranged months in advance! And no sooner do we get there, then the Earless of the Nuckelavees launches her invasion! And what with all that to-do, and having to rush out and head over to the Gallopagos to remonstrate with Discord after he stole all the tortoises there, and then that storm on one of the few calm stretches of open water we had, and now this … I have had enough! I won’t have us delay so much as a minute longer — Unhoof me, you villain! En-garde!” “Glark!” protested the accosting kelpie, falling back with Rarity’s cutlass in his spleen. Rarity turned back on Twilight, breathing heavily. With a great effort, she seemed to force herself steady, and her expression and tone softened. “And every time I look at you, Twilight, I only want the occasion to come all the faster. For us to become one another’s, utterly, for all the world to witness.” Her voice hitched a bit. “Every time, I say.” Twilight flapped in mid-air for a moment. Something — possibly the mizzenmast, or some breed of mast at any rate — detonated overhead. The alicorn’s eyes welled up, and then she croaked, “Yes.” Rarity gasped, and she trembled out, “You … you mean you will —” “Yes! Yes, Rarity, I’ll marry you right here, right now! Hang the sea-battle!” Twilight alighted on the deck in an instant, wrapping one foreleg around Rarity’s wither. “Here, now, forever.” Rarity squealed with eardrum-piercing joy, and wheeled around to where a full-blown cluster-rut dominated proceedings on the deck. “Ooh, we need our best mares! And the captain to officiate! Where’s Fluttershy? Where’s our ship’s captain?” “Last I saw from up there, the former was trying to convince the kraken to regurgitate the latter,” Twilight replied. “They might be busy for a while.” “Oh, peeve.” Rarity looked from side to side. “We’ll have to make do with a volunteer officiator. Applejack!” She craned her head up, eyeing the spot where a doughty farmpony was jumping on the heads of four kelpies at once. “A marriage is happening! Would you do us the honour of —?” “Mite busy here, Rares!” “But Applejack, darling dearest, you —” “Rares, recognise a fruitless prospect when it’s yellin’ at you!” “Fine! But if I had a bouquet to throw, rest assured, I would not aim so as to favour you catching it!” Rarity huffed and cast her eyes skywards. “Rainbow Dash? Could I oblige you to — what on earth are you doing?” “Gathering stormclouds!” whooped the pegasus, and kicked a lightning bolt out of one so as to electrocute a kelpie who’d been brandishing their cutlass unwisely high. “Almost done!” “Gatheri — no! You’re not going to whip up a rainstorm on our wedding day! Put them away!” “But … but I was going to whip up a maelstrom for us to have the battle in, and it’s going to be so awesome —” “Clouds away, please!” There came a disgruntled noise from Rainbow, and she begrudgingly shoved away the first of many accumulated stormclouds. As Rarity hopped on the spot with aggravation, Twilight cast her own gaze about until she found the last likely pony. “Pinkie?” “Avast! Or yarr, even?” The perky pink party pony, evidently done with the earlier scrum of violence, popped her head up from where she’d been loading a carronade with mounds of stale buns, smiling brightly. “Now, ah, Pinkie, we appreciate this might seem like an awkward time, but we need you to, er, officiate our wedding.” Pinkie frowned. “Don’t you need the captain for that? Didn’t he get, like, scooped up by tentacles and get dropped into a hideous cephalopodic maw —” “Fluttershy’s working on that! But until then, as a Princess of Equestria, I appoint you captain of this vessel, and ask without much optimism that this authority doesn’t get abused.” “Oh, neat! Okay then!” Several more kelpies clambered up over the railing by her side, and Pinkie hefted her carronade and barrelled round only briefly to blast them back into the brine with bakery before turning back to Twilight and Rarity. “Now, or ...?” “Now, please!” Twilight and Rarity clutched each other close. “Alrighty!” Pinkie dropped the carronade and perched herself atop it, clearing her throat. “Dearly beloved and recent acquaintances alike, we are gathered here today to celebrate the joining in matrimony of these two mares, and/or to reave and plunder! If the latter, not naming names, but rude. Two mares in question! Please face one another!” Twilight and Rarity turned to face each other. “Ahem.” Pinkie pointed at Rarity. “Do you, Rarity, pledge to take this mare, Twilight Sparkle, in sickness and in health, to share her burdens in her office and to share her joy in her accomplishments, from now till time’s ending?” Rarity’s eyes met clear and shining violet. “I do.” “And you, Twilight Sparkle —” From one side, there came a splashing noise and a hideous roar. “Oh, hey, they’ve brought up a second kraken. Never mind that, though. Do you pledge to take this mare, Rarity, in sickness and in health, to support her in her endeavours and art and to be a wither to support her whenever she should need it, from now till time’s ending?” Twilight stared into brilliant, glittering blue. “I do.” “In which case ...” Pinkie drew in one last breath, while Twilight and Rarity held theirs. From one side, there came Rainbow Dash’s warcries mixed with the roar of lightning bolts lashing down into a surfacing kraken. Screams and shots and striking steel rang out from every direction, building to a thundering crescendo. “...The brides may kiss!” And they kissed.
Talking HeidsAuthor's Note Monday 7th Prompt - First meeting (S1Ep1) Talking Heids “Heyo. Are you, ah, open just now, or — gah!” “Good day, sir, and welcome to Carousel Boutique! But first and foremost, I must regale you.” “Regale me? I, um. You’re the proprietress here, I take it? I was wondering if you could fit me out with a —” “I’ll take your measurements while I regale you, sir. Let nopony say I can’t multitask. Let’s get that barding off as well. Now, to business. It’s all concerning the pony I had in just before your good self. I’ve felt like a shaken champagne bottle ever since she left; I’ve been aching to uncork and tell somepony about her. You don’t mind being that somepony, I hope?” “I … I can do my best to be an audience, miss, but if I could just —” “So picture the scene, sir. There I am, adrift in the zone, right where you’re standing. Applying a few finishing touches to this Summer Sun Celebration’s decor. Picking out a suitable ribbon with a patina of sparkle, just to catch the light, you know. Somepony enters, seeking my assistance, or so I presumed. So I finish my task, turn to greet them, and what do I behold?” “A pony worth regaling others about, I guess?” “A vision, sir. A vision. Let nopony tell you that being starstruck at first sight exists only in novels. There she stood, a lovely little dragon by her side, and I drank the whole of her in at a glance. From her fetlocks to her mane, the picture of Canterlot reserve and grace, save for … well, save for her mane.” “Her mane?” “Her mane. And right there, right then, I had to do something. One must live up to their humble raison d’etre, after all. There’s beauty in everypony, and I presume only to … coax it to the forefront, as it were, wherever it should need coaxing. And I shan’t lie. Her mane was in need of some rather severe coaxing. But all the rest of her … goodness, I’m not altogether she knew what an oil painting she was. A mare could and did get lost in those violet eyes of hers. And that coat — is lavender the shade? No, no, I’m thinking of mulberry. What a lovely word. Doesn’t it just roll off the tongue?” “Miss, are you talking about Twilight Sparkle?” “I … possibly I am. Is that her na …?” “... Miss? You’ve gone quiet.” “...oh, Celestia’s fetlocks, I forgot to ask her her name.” “Happens to the best of us, miss.” “You — you know her, then? Ah, wait, of course, this is royal guardspony barding. You’d have come with her from Canterlot, then? Entourage, or … ah ...?” “Entourage, miss. Sky-chariots shan’t pull themselves.” “Oh. Well, that’s good. That’s, ah, very good. Though I do hope I haven’t made a dreadful mess of things. Perhaps I might have been a touch … overbearing. I really did just want to do justice to her, though. That mane couldn’t be allowed to stand. And as a purely secondary objective, I might have wanted to show her my talents, just a little bit. To get through the pony within that reserve. I do hope I didn’t make too terrible a first impression.” “She’ll be supervising the rest of the Summer Sun Celebrations here, miss. Plenty of scope to make a second impression, if you’re worried.” “True. Well, I shall do my best. Though, ah, lest I make a fool of myself, do you know whether she’s got a significant other at present? Surely she must be admired far and wide within Canterlot.” “Couldn’t speak from personal experience on the latter front, miss. Been married to another stallion for nigh-on five years now. But I don't think she’s attached to anypony at present, no.” “Ah. Very good. Well, good second impressions or complete foolery it’ll be, then. Truly obliged for your help, sir.” “No trouble, miss. Though if you were to repay me at all … well, I did come in here to tog myself up a bit.” “Gracious, so you did. Apologies for letting that fall by the wayside. What sort of apparel would you like this day?” “Just a nice jacket-and-waistcoat number, something nice. Five-year anniversary coming up, you know, and I want to look the part for him. Though I’d as well get something here and bring it back. Haven’t got much of a sense for these things, but … well, you seem to. Mind advising? If you’re not too busy with Summer Sun stuff, of course.” “Not at all, sir. A little sparkle’s clarified whatever doubts I had there. Now, let’s see what I can do for you.”
MereswineAuthor's Note Tuesday 8th Prompt - Mane swap / Species swap Mereswine “You know what?” said Twilight, drifting in place, her words coming out amidst a stream of bubbles. “That settles it. From now, I check and double-check and triple-check the small print on a spell before casting it. And if there’s no small print and the whole bottom half of the parchment shows clear sign of water damage, I dwell on why that might be.” “I still fail to see a problem in this outcome, darling,” Rarity swept past Twilight in a blur of white softly streaked with pale purple. Powerful beats of her tail drove her muscled length on through the water. Unexpectedly transforming into a dolphin had been the cause of some initial consternation, as it would for most ponies, but she seemed to have recovered with aplomb. “Ooh, watch me leap!” Twilight continued drifting as Rarity swept up and leapt up past the water surface with a crash. There came a few muffled ‘Ooh’s and applause from those ponies that lingered on the lake’s bank — and all due credit to them for quickly heaving two new, surprised, and wheezing cetaceans to the most apt place possible. She swept around, arcing her own mulberry-tinted length in the surrounding blue of the deep lake water, and tried to get a good view of herself, one eye at a time. Seeing both sides of the world had been a little disorienting at first. As had propelling herself with a tail and flippers. And having to resurface every so often to breathe. And adjusting to a lack of magic. Frankly, there hadn’t been much that hadn’t disorientated. At least Rarity seemed to be bearing up well. “A narwhal would have been a bit more convenient,” Twilight muttered to herself. “They’ve been observed to use magic with their own horns in the wild, so there’s no logical reason we couldn’t have —” A sudden crash back down into the water behind her stole Twilight’s attention, and she turned to see Rarity coursing back down to her position, blinking somewhat dazedly. “Oof,” Rarity murmured. “Bit of a belly-flop there. Still, practise makes perfect.” She smiled at Twilight, the motion coming more easily to her mouth than usual. “Aren’t you going to indulge in a leap or two, Twilight?” “I will. Soon. There’s just something I want to test.” Twilight flapped and tried to angle herself to face the expanse of the lake away from the bank, where the furthest edges were all but swallowed by blueness and shadows. She closed her eyes, tried to breath out, accidentally spouted underwater instead, and after recovering herself, clicked. The little waves that flurried forth from her in the water were invisible to the eye, and so were the little waves that came rushing back in, bouncing off whatever surfaces they found. With the sudden clarity of a lightning bolt to the skull, Twilight’s world filled. Awareness of the contours of things inveigled into her head, the positions and ruggedness of the furthest banks and lakebed, the shifting shoals of suddenly-uneasy fish that shared the lake with them. And the form of Rarity, drifting at her back. Smiling, Twilight knew without turning. “Hah.” Twilight felt light-headed, the map of their territory spread open before her, and she turned to Rarity. “Well. If it’s not outright magic, it’s a close cousin. You’ve got to try that.” “Should I?” the ex-unicorn replied teasingly. “Oh, I could. It does seem to have enraptured you. But perhaps you could help me with a little display?” “What sort of display?” “A synchronised leap straight up and a flip forward, little more.” Rarity batted her eyes. “Think of all those gallant ponies on terra firma. I think they ought to see a little dophining, if that’s a verb. And … well, you could breathe at the same time. You do need to do that from time to time, Twilight.” That might also explain the light-headedness. Twilight grinned abashedly. “Alright. On your mark.” “Excellent. Remember, straight up. Bend forwards into the flip. In parallel, if we can manage it.” Rarity twirled a short way back through the water, coming round to face Twilight from several metres away, and angled herself up at the glimmering surface. “Ready?” Twilight nodded, and fought to right herself when the rest of her body wobbled into the motion. “...Ready.” “Now!” With one flap, Rarity sped up through the water like a bullet, and blue blurred past Twilight on all sides as she rushed to follow her. The surface rushed at her, the lights dancing within it growing larger and brighter as it grew nearer, nearer, nearer ... And then, air. Air and sunlight, impossibly bright and cold and sudden, flashing off Twilight’s wet hide as she rocketed up right out of the water. There was a gleam of green on one side, she dimly registered, and the sound of ponies whooping. Stages of the plan clacked through her mind like clockwork, though, and as she glimpsed Rarity’s white form bending forwards into a flip, Twilight did likewise, a fraction of a second behind. She arched forward, her body bending into a comma shape as she tucked her head down and her tail reflexively rose to meet it. Blue skies and blue water wheeled, and then, the instant after, the water swallowed her up again. For a moment, Twilight drifted, and settled. The hubbub from the ponies and sun-glare down here came muffled, was made distant and peaceful by the enveloping water. She relaxed for a moment, before her thoughts stole back to the show she and Rarity had just provided … … and what exactly their audience on land would have seen. “Rarity?” she said. “Yeeeees, Twilight?” The white dolphin wiggled gently towards her, all innocence. “Did … did you just arrange for us to form the shape of a love-heart from the audience’s point of view.” “Je ne regrette rien, darling.” “That is so—” Rarity playfully poked Twilight’s snout with her own and whirled around, making for the surface again. “How long did you say the spell was estimated to last before it wore off?” “I … a day, give or take an hour or two.” “Then come, come, show me that trick you did with the click. And after that, we’ve got plenty of time yet to practise our shapes.”
SuspensionAuthor's Note Wednesday 9th - Watching horror movies / Cooking Suspension A blood-smeared zombie shambled through the night towards an unsuspecting stallion, inch by squirm-inducing inch, and Twilight Sparkle, to Rarity’s mild aggravation, felt it apt to provide technical details. “Fake blood,” Twilight whispered, as the magical motor of the little projector at their backs clattered and flickered its heart out, behind the sofa they’d sprackled across. “Knackerton Gore, if I’m any judge. Mixed parts syrup, corn flour, and food colouring.” Rarity suppressed a sigh as the alicorn’s voice managed to disperse whatever chills had inveigled up her spine. Before her, the black-and-white image of the zombie shuffled on across the screen, while the stallion assumed an expression of beatific happiness with the universe and their lot within it. “That’s fascinating, darling, but—” “I mean, all the ethical issues with getting real blood aside, it coagulates too quickly. Impossible to keep looking suitably bloody for extended shoots. And it doesn’t show up well under studio lights. Especially for monochromatic productions like this.” “I’ll take your word for it.” “And that’s not an actual flesh-eating zombie. They’ll have sourced a docile one from the alchemist-necromancers in Zebrica, and somepony’ll be jangling keys off-camera to coax it forward. Did you know there’s one zombie who’s been loaned out to nearly every studio for decades now? Old Shuffles. They awarded him an Oatscar once. Best Supporting Act—” Said zombie and their intended victim seemed to be taking a frustratingly long time to fulfil the roles nature expected of them. “Twilight, hush shush. A film’s unfolding. Let yourself be drawn in. Suspend disbelief a touch.” Twilight flinched and looked abashed. “Oh. Sorry.” A moment’s pause, and then she said, “I read a book once that was all about the behind-the-scenes work in moving pictures. Once you know about the workings … well, you can’t un-know them.” Rarity wriggled around on the sofa to face Twilight, and a subtle smile flickered around her muzzle. “And you’d never try to distract yourself by recounting the details, of course.” Twilight flushed. “I … well—” Clockwork turned in her head, and Rarity leaned in closer till she was all but eye-to-eye to Twilight. It didn’t do a thing to ameliorate the alicorn’s flush, and Rarity was quite alright with that. “If you want to do something really helpful during this picture, darling,” she purred, “then you ought to know that I’m just dreadful when it comes to horror.” “You are?” “Oh yes. No coping ability at all. I’ll badly need some pony to hold onto and to hold onto me in return.” She teasingly nuzzled Twilight’s neck. “Why, aren’t you some pony?” She was pleased to note that it seemed to be working. Twilight seemed altogether distracted by her, and didn’t have the air of one about to provide a fascinating factoid about the mechanics of horror picture production. She seemed, in fact, quite drawn in. “Well,” Twilight murmured. “I have been accused of being that, from time to ti—” Then, that instant, a violin was abruptly tortured, a bestial roar rang out, and a blood-curdling shriek followed immediately after. Rarity whirled back on the screen to find the scene a great deal more splattery than hitherto. Her heart leapt, if not all the way up into her mouth, and she took a moment — just a moment — to prepare a good, dramatic shriek and to swoon into Twilight’s hooves. That best-laid scheme quickly ganged agley, however, when the alicorn at her side screamed and all but leapt out of her hide and onto Rarity, forelegs clutching at her. Rarity yelped and all but fell back across the sofa, but forethought caught up and spiked that plan of action as she briefly met Twilight’s wide, violet gaze. Ponies who’d just been embraced for comfort’s sake in the face of a zombie eating some unlucky stallion shouldn’t just fall over like that. There were standards to uphold. And besides, there was something soothing about the hammering heartbeat under the soft hide pressed into her. As well as the fact she’d been the first port of call for a hug like that. “Disbelief suspended, then?” Rarity wheezed after a moment. Twilight breathed heavily and eased her grip a bit. She turned back to the screen, where the first burst of splatteriness had passed and the camera was now spending time dwelling on the aftermath. “M—more Knackerton Gore, soaked and shredded sponges, mashed apples for the zombie to chew on, and a lot of papier-mâché,” Twilight trembled out. “See, the camera angle’s c—covering up a lot of it. The light’s on the zombie’s face. Draws the eye away from the effect. There — there’s a limit to how real they can make it without illusion magic. Which would b—be cheating.” “I believe you, darling,” Rarity said gently, hugging Twilight closer, somewhat nonplussed, and yet not altogether displeased. “Tell me more. You have a most eager audience.”
DawnAuthor's Note Thursday 10th - National day / Home life Dawn Under darkness, Rarity made her way up the hill, her saddlebags bulging and her horn casting a steady blue light to see by. It was still night, the velvety blackness brushed with whorls of stars and the moon crowning one horizon, and it would remain night for a few minutes yet. Time enough to get things ready. Reaching the grassy summit, Rarity took a moment to catch her breath before getting to work. Unclasping her saddlebags, she drew out their contents, one item at a time. A folded checkered blanket, which she spread out. Two carefully-wrapped china cups and a thermos, and the contents of the latter were poured into the former. Two stemmed glasses and a corked bottle. A spread of sandwiches (crusts removed, of course) and a generous slab of chocolate gateau. And, because there was no such thing as too much care going into presentation, a thin glass vase into which she inserted a nearby flower. As she arranged everything in pleasing patterns across the blanket, there came a flash and a bang from the direction of Ponyville. Rarity didn’t have to look around to recognise the sound of another firework being let off ahead of schedule. When she’d left, the main street and square around the town hall had already been a riot of light and festivity. It’d be too much to hope that Sweetie Belle and her friends would be entirely well-behaved in the midst of it all, but the others would stop them from wreaking too much havoc with any luck. Some years, no matter the opportunities it offered for her muse to inflict itself on any and all decorations required, she felt the Summer Sun Celebration could be more trouble than it was worth. Not this year, though. Her preparations done, Rarity settled down on the blanket to watch the eastern horizon. She waited there in the pre-dawn hush, Ponyville muffled and distant, the distant shape of Twilight’s castle made a glittering tower of reflected starlight. She didn’t have to wait long. Over the lip of the horizon, there appeared a thin band of gold. It rippled upwards, suffusing the darkness with blue and orange in its wake. And up after it, there came the sunrise. Up it came, pressing the darkness back and casting more brilliant light and colours across the sky. The moon drew back in tandem, falling below its own horizon in perfect synchrony with the sun, while the light of the stars was engulfed by the day. Rarity held her breath as the sun ascended, the motion of it controlled and steady, and only when it gradually began to slow, winding back down to a normal orbit’s pace, did she finally release that breath. Between the sun’s new position and the horizon it had drifted up from, far in the direction of Canterlot, it was just about possible to make out a single purple point in the sky, their purple wings spread, their corona of magic fading as the sun’s motion slowed. They hovered there for a moment. From Ponyville below, Rarity could hear cheers and whoops and more unsafe use of fireworks as the Summer Sun Celebration got stuck into earning the third word of its title. High above, the purple point lingered a moment longer, still and brilliant against the newly blue sky. And, in another flash of magic, they vanished. And reappeared next to Rarity on the blanket. Rarity turned, beaming fit to burst at Twilight Sparkle. The alicorn’s legs wobbled, and she let herself collapse onto the blanket, panting raggedly as her horn smoked gently. “I did it,” Twilight murmured. “You did it wonderfully,” Rarity said, leaning in to kiss Twilight’s cheek. “They didn’t have the broadest list of candidates to delegate to, I concede, but Celestia and Luna couldn’t have chosen somepony better.” Twilight blinked dazedly, let out a brief, giddy laugh, and unsteadily picked up one of the cups of tea in her magic. She drained it, set it down, and then cast beseeching eyes at the cake. She looked imploringly at Rarity, who smiled and nodded. Twilight needed little further urging, and attended to business for the next few minutes while Rarity admired her handiwork. Eventually, Twilight’s head rose, with slightly more of a patina of chocolate than it had had previously. Her expression had grown pensive, and Rarity eyed her with concern. “Twilight?” For a moment, she was silent. Then Twilight said, “I thought it might have wobbled at one point.” “It did no such thing. You were smooth as clockwork.” “Are you sure?” “I saw it all, darling.” Twilight settled for a moment. And then, “You’re absolutely sure it didn’t wobble—?” “Twilight Sparkle, you terribly silly pony,” Rarity said gently, leaning in close to the alicorn’s neck, “heed me when I say you were perfect.” Twilight’s pensiveness lost its edge, and she returned the lean. “Just checking,” she said. “When everypony’s watching, it’s hard not to think that sort of thing.” She glanced down at Ponyville below and took a steadying breath. “I’ll have to head down sometime soon. To show face.” “Sometime soon,” Rarity said. She lifted up the glasses and bottle with her magic, and proferred the latter to Twilight. “But not now. Not yet.” And, better than any sunrise in Rarity’s estimation, a gentle smile dawned on Twilight’s face. She reached out with her own magic, and with one twist, uncorked the bottle. Fizz coursed up, caught the sunlight, and for a moment on that hilltop, cut a rainbow across the dawn.
Martial Mare Matrimony on the MariaAuthor's Note Friday 11th - A wedding Martial Mare Matrimony on the Maria “Rarity, of all the possible times —” “We are well past most possible times, Twilight! Events have obstructed us at every turn for weeks now, but no more, I say! I insist that you marry me, here and now!” Rarity would have kept talking, had she not been obliged to turn around and shoot a kelpie between the eyes. “But priorities!” Most of the conversation was shouted, due to the ongoing kerfuffle on all sides as their ship was attacked. A mob of kelpie pirates had arisen out of the salty depths astride a tamed kraken, and were in the process of ruining what had been a lovely sunny day with plans for a wedding in the afternoon. Sailors yelled, steel screamed, tentacles whipped hither and thither, flintlock pistols fired every which way. “Priorities other than marrying the mare who owns my heart and love wholesale, at long, long last?” said Rarity scornfully, her magic reloading her brace of flintlocks. She stepped to one side to avoid a scrum of violence that rolled across the deck. Pinkie bounced atop it, shouting ‘Whee!’ as she went. “I wasn’t aware they so much as existed.” “There’s a few, believe me!” “Well, I refuse to let us be sidelined by peripheral trivia, darling!” Rarity floated up her pistols and discharged them to either side, was rewarded with a brace of pained squawks, and lobbed the pistols themselves the same ways to be rewarded with yet more squawks. A boom rang out from the bow and a cutlass clattered across the deck in front of her, along with disassociated bits of kelpie. Rarity smoothly scooped it up. “Do you not remember how delayed this day has been?” “Yes, Rarity, I was there for all the delays too! But —” Twilight broke off as she flapped out of the way of the seething magics of the kelpie warlock-captain, and snapped off a crackling purple bolt his way. It was all the opening Rarity needed. “A lovely little ceremony in the Orkneigh Islands, arranged months in advance! And no sooner do we get there, then the Earless of the Nuckelavees launches her invasion! And what with all that to-do, and having to rush out and head over to the Gallopagos to remonstrate with Discord after he stole all the tortoises there, and then that storm on one of the few calm stretches of open water we had, and now this … I have had enough! I won’t have us delay so much as a minute longer — Unhoof me, you villain! En-garde!” “Glark!” protested the accosting kelpie, falling back with Rarity’s cutlass in his spleen. Rarity turned back on Twilight, breathing heavily. With a great effort, she seemed to force herself steady, and her expression and tone softened. “And every time I look at you, Twilight, I only want the occasion to come all the faster. For us to become one another’s, utterly, for all the world to witness.” Her voice hitched a bit. “Every time, I say.” Twilight flapped in mid-air for a moment. Something — possibly the mizzenmast, or some breed of mast at any rate — detonated overhead. The alicorn’s eyes welled up, and then she croaked, “Yes.” Rarity gasped, and she trembled out, “You … you mean you will —” “Yes! Yes, Rarity, I’ll marry you right here, right now! Hang the sea-battle!” Twilight alighted on the deck in an instant, wrapping one foreleg around Rarity’s wither. “Here, now, forever.” Rarity squealed with eardrum-piercing joy, and wheeled around to where a full-blown cluster-rut dominated proceedings on the deck. “Ooh, we need our best mares! And the captain to officiate! Where’s Fluttershy? Where’s our ship’s captain?” “Last I saw from up there, the former was trying to convince the kraken to regurgitate the latter,” Twilight replied. “They might be busy for a while.” “Oh, peeve.” Rarity looked from side to side. “We’ll have to make do with a volunteer officiator. Applejack!” She craned her head up, eyeing the spot where a doughty farmpony was jumping on the heads of four kelpies at once. “A marriage is happening! Would you do us the honour of —?” “Mite busy here, Rares!” “But Applejack, darling dearest, you —” “Rares, recognise a fruitless prospect when it’s yellin’ at you!” “Fine! But if I had a bouquet to throw, rest assured, I would not aim so as to favour you catching it!” Rarity huffed and cast her eyes skywards. “Rainbow Dash? Could I oblige you to — what on earth are you doing?” “Gathering stormclouds!” whooped the pegasus, and kicked a lightning bolt out of one so as to electrocute a kelpie who’d been brandishing their cutlass unwisely high. “Almost done!” “Gatheri — no! You’re not going to whip up a rainstorm on our wedding day! Put them away!” “But … but I was going to whip up a maelstrom for us to have the battle in, and it’s going to be so awesome —” “Clouds away, please!” There came a disgruntled noise from Rainbow, and she begrudgingly shoved away the first of many accumulated stormclouds. As Rarity hopped on the spot with aggravation, Twilight cast her own gaze about until she found the last likely pony. “Pinkie?” “Avast! Or yarr, even?” The perky pink party pony, evidently done with the earlier scrum of violence, popped her head up from where she’d been loading a carronade with mounds of stale buns, smiling brightly. “Now, ah, Pinkie, we appreciate this might seem like an awkward time, but we need you to, er, officiate our wedding.” Pinkie frowned. “Don’t you need the captain for that? Didn’t he get, like, scooped up by tentacles and get dropped into a hideous cephalopodic maw —” “Fluttershy’s working on that! But until then, as a Princess of Equestria, I appoint you captain of this vessel, and ask without much optimism that this authority doesn’t get abused.” “Oh, neat! Okay then!” Several more kelpies clambered up over the railing by her side, and Pinkie hefted her carronade and barrelled round only briefly to blast them back into the brine with bakery before turning back to Twilight and Rarity. “Now, or ...?” “Now, please!” Twilight and Rarity clutched each other close. “Alrighty!” Pinkie dropped the carronade and perched herself atop it, clearing her throat. “Dearly beloved and recent acquaintances alike, we are gathered here today to celebrate the joining in matrimony of these two mares, and/or to reave and plunder! If the latter, not naming names, but rude. Two mares in question! Please face one another!” Twilight and Rarity turned to face each other. “Ahem.” Pinkie pointed at Rarity. “Do you, Rarity, pledge to take this mare, Twilight Sparkle, in sickness and in health, to share her burdens in her office and to share her joy in her accomplishments, from now till time’s ending?” Rarity’s eyes met clear and shining violet. “I do.” “And you, Twilight Sparkle —” From one side, there came a splashing noise and a hideous roar. “Oh, hey, they’ve brought up a second kraken. Never mind that, though. Do you pledge to take this mare, Rarity, in sickness and in health, to support her in her endeavours and art and to be a wither to support her whenever she should need it, from now till time’s ending?” Twilight stared into brilliant, glittering blue. “I do.” “In which case ...” Pinkie drew in one last breath, while Twilight and Rarity held theirs. From one side, there came Rainbow Dash’s warcries mixed with the roar of lightning bolts lashing down into a surfacing kraken. Screams and shots and striking steel rang out from every direction, building to a thundering crescendo. “...The brides may kiss!” And they kissed.
