I lied there inside the living space that was my small home, my horn glowing with a bright blue aura, gripping a quill as it magically scribbled away on the parchment inside a blank book. Atop the page to the far right was the date and entry number inside this personal tome, my life's story in a sense. With the quick dotting of a period I finished my recount of my day, sighing dreamily as my quill was deposited back into the nearby inkwell. I began to read over it, like I always do. The words on paper being narrated inside my head.
Dear diary,
Dear journal,
Today started like any other...
I awoke in my bed inside my dark room, my eyes groggily opening and taking in the very dim light that made it through the heavy blinds that covered my bedroom window. I was never a fan of the sun's bright rays of blinding light in the morning, a fact that many ponies would find very strange. Then again most became rather nervous and panicky if they hear word of the princess making an appearance, worrying they might accidentally offend her or do something that would repulse or annoy her. I personally preferred the cooler and much more extravagant nights out here in the more rural town of Ponyville. The stars shown much more brightly out here.
I rolled out of my jumbled bed sheets after a very refreshing and comfortable sleep, landing on my hooves unsteadily, my legs adjusting to supporting my weight. My still partially asleep legs wobbled slightly, snapping out of their own relaxed slumber. As the blood flowed back through I began to stretch, loosening up and exercising the muscles of my back and legs, yawning. I caught a quick glimpse at the clock on the nightstand beside my bed, taking the time. Seven o' clock in the morning. Perfect time to start my day.
Having sufficiently woken the rest of my body I began my usual morning ritual of making my bed, pulling out the sheet from the mattress, laying them flat and orderly back atop it and tucking it in. Pleased with the now made sleeping arrangements I smiled, stepping out of my room and into the small and not entirely necessary hallway of my home. The transition of wood to cold tile was a small shock to my hooves, giving me a shudder that ran up my legs and down my spine. Even going as far as to cause a quick burst of chatter from my teeth. Steadying my self, it passed and I went back to my doings.
I looked into the mirror above the sink, the image of grey stallion with a simple brown mane appearing inside it. I began looking myself over. My mane was acceptable and my visage was like always. I smiled and stepped back out, making the five to six step journey down the hallway and into the living room and following that, the kitchen. My old acquaintance, the toaster, was waiting for me on the counter. I stepped up to it, levitating the loaf of bread out of the bread box and opening the plastic package. I removed two slices of the wheat bread from the group, placing them inside the slot of the toaster and pushing down the slide.
I then turned my attention to obtaining a bit of drink. My horn glowed and so did the handle to the cabinets, the door swinging open and a glass drifting down from it and onto the counter. Magic made everything easier. The cabinet door closed and I opened to the door to my refrigerator, removing the carton of orange juice from it's contents. The carton lifted up and hovered out from inside it, moving on toward the counter. The door to the refrigerator closed and the tap to the carton opened, moving into a more acute angle and allowing the solid orange contents to pour out into the glass. The glass in turn filled up quickly, nearly reaching the brim before tilting back upright. The tab closed and the carton was set back to the counter.
My magical grip then turned to the glass, lifting it up to my dry lips. I sipped at the acidic drink, letting the softly burning juice drip down my throat. My toast would likely take a while so I set my glass down, making way out of the kitchen and into the living room, toward the front door. I pushed open the door to peak outside at the bright morning of the town. A few ponies walked about, not as many as would come later, but the ones who had things to do. Being that I was the towns record keeper on account of my ever clear and accurate memory being my special talent I was mostly based out of home. It was both a blessing and a curse really. I could remember every little inherent thing I read or learned about. Whether entertaining, informative, or down right traumatizing.
I'd memorized the mail routes of Ponyville and had the file on-hoof inside my study. But that didn't entirely matter with Miss Ditzy as the local carrier. The likely hood of losing a package or mistakenly receiving a letter was a risk that ponyville decided to take. Though she wasn't entirely capable of the most exceptional work, on account of her unfortunate condition, she had more heart than most and did the best she could at her job. Even if the best she could was the occasional miss-delivery.
The very same grey Pegasus mare walked up the pathway to my door, her brown saddle bags bouncing and teetering as she cantered happily, her yellow eyes in their perpetually askew positions. Her personality was a lot like her cutie mark, bubbly. Nothing ever seemed to really get to her and most things that could be taken in offense often went over her head. The possibility that a lack of intelligence or her clumsiness was reflected in her name was a strange coincidence seeing as neither could've been noticed at her birth. Then again, the same thought could be put into my name as well. I was told I was very observant but that was a bit of a tough fact to accept.
Derpy, as she had acquired from the townsfolk (still hadn't gotten to looking into how that word even came about) was here to possibly give something important. Most likely some kind of census that will drag my day on or a schedule of upcoming events to be announced or cancelled due to inconvenient circumstances. Weather schedule or not, you never quite know when some accidental weather was to come about from Pegasi doings. That's one of the reasons she was likely given the position of mail carrier for. A lost package is much more acceptable than a freak tornado decimating the town.
I slipped out from behind my door to be greeted by the cheery mail carrier, "Morning Mister Eye."
"Good morning Miss Der--Doo. Something for me in the mail?" I asked.
"Maybe, you should check your mailbox." She suggested. "The mail-mare might have dropped it off. I don't know where she is, but I'm sure she's around somewhere."
I'd grown used to moments like this. "Um, Ditzy, you are the mail-mare."
"Oh, right. Heh." She giggled. Her wings gripped the cover to her saddle bags and opened them, removing a small stack of papers. "Here you go."
I accepted the papers with a whipped up smile, knowing that if this really is for me my day will likely be eaten up by this. I thanked her and she smiled, waving as she trotted back off.
I slipped back into my home, my toast popping up from the toaster with a tall trail of steam flowing up from it. The scent of browned bread filled my home and I half-heartedly trotted back to my kitchen, the papers magically tailing me like some kind of specter of procrastination. It settled down on the counter, my magic focusing on the fresh toast. The browned slices of bread floated out from the toaster to be greeted by a knife from the nearby drawer taking a small slab of butter from the stick in the dish. The knife slapped the butter onto the toast, spreading it out thin. The action repeated itself on the other piece. Finishing the creation of my breakfast.
A plate floated down from the cabinets above, the a slice of the toast settling on the plate and resting down on the counter. The other slice floated over to my face, hovering close. I took a bite, savoring the simple buttery taste of the toast as it crunched between my teeth. I swallowed it with a sip of juice as I began reading to find out what this bunch of papers purpose was.
I then spat out the juice with gusto as I read what the first piece held. The same information that would be posted in the papers was always sent to me. I often found most of it trivial and pointless, but for once it seemed to have found me perfectly. The title read Mares seeking Stallions and among the names of multiple mares in an attempt to find a suitor was a name that surprised me more than just a little.
Twilight Sparkle.
I was familiar with her name. I was familiar with the mare. Well...not entirely familiar, but I'd seen her and had...thought a bit highly of her. I'd mostly admired her from afar. I was never one to take many risks. Attempting to ask her out was very much a risk. I'd feel quite defeated if I'd been turned down by the mare I'd idealized for a time. Perhaps even depressed. I'd only exchanged greetings with her and...watched her go about her day doing things. I was hoping for a quiet day with nothing to do but perhaps see what she'd be doing. Well...I never really got to say anything...I actually ended up making a slightly dumb founded mumbling as I was swept up by her appearance. Her soft lavender coat, her violet eyes, her dark navy mane...
I didn't think the possibility of an opportunity would come about. I'd almost assured myself she'd be easily picked out by some other stallion. The moment had risen. I needed to hurry before I was too late. Action had to be taken!
I knocked on the door to the library where she'd taken up as accommodation, nervously waiting for her. A voice that sounded like angelic Alicorns were singing called back to me. "Coming"
I felt my gut twist as the nervousness exploded inside. The sounds of hooves trotting close became louder on the other side. My mind screamed out to me. Abort! Abort! Action must not be taken!
I quickly dove for a nearby bush, hiding inside of it. I peeked through from inside it as the door to the library swung open, the same, most beautiful, most intelligent, most amazing mare looked out from the door way, looking around confusedly. With a huff of disappointment she closed the door and I slipped back out of the bush. I sighed in relief, "Perhaps more planning is needed."
I paced back and forth in my study, nearly wearing a rut into the wooden floor. My mind jumped around, sorting through ideas of how to go about this. A good grounds to start was needed. A hook. A draw. Something. "A flower, maybe? No, that's far too unoriginal...A gift? Nah, too lurker-ish...a message?" I stopped dead, rubbing a hoof to my chin. "Maybe." I nodded slowly.
I hurried to my desk, sitting on my haunches as my horned glowed brightly with a blue magical aura. A fresh sheet of parchment settled on the writing space and a nearby quill floated up and out of it's inkwell, moving over the parchment. The point pressed against it and I paused to collect my thoughts, thinking of a start...
I vocalized out my writings as the quill scribbled away, testing to see how it sounded. "Dear Miss Sparkle,--No, too formal, I might come off as snobby." I corrected myself as the quill ran a line through it. "Twilight,--No, no. That might make me seem very crude and punk." The quill once again ran through the line of written text. "Hmm...Dear Twilight. Perfect! A blend of formal and friendly! Alright, alright, focus." I said to myself, needing to do so.
"Dear Twilight, I come to you on request of a night of solace with heart-swept intent over dinner...No, to romanticized. Dear Twilight, I was hoping you would like to go with me on a date...No, too weak spirited. Dear Twilight, would you happen to be available tonight..." I sighed, not sure of how to go about this sort of things at all. The paper wadded up in my magical grip, crumpling into a ball and sailing toward a nearby waste bin, the quill dropping into the inkwell in frustrated defeat. "Ah, this is hopeless!" I yelled as my head slammed down onto the desk.
My head welled with images of failure. Twilight turning me down. Twilight laughing in my face. Twilight walking off with a taller, leaner, more handsome stallion... He probably has fewer braincells in his entire cranial cavity than I do in my frontal lobe. I slammed my hoof down onto the desk. "No! I will not give up! Not on her!"
Another piece of parchment settled down onto my desk as I took a deep breath, recollecting my thoughts. My quill lifted back out of the inkwell, steadying over the sheet of ground down, formed and trimmed tree. "Dear Twilight, would you be willing to meet me for dinner tonight?"
I stared straight at the would-be love letter, eyes narrowing. "...Good enough" I grumbled, needing to focus.
I let out another elongated sigh, trying to plan this out further. My quill floated over the page, awaiting my will. What time? What place? Should I try something more fancy in an attempt to impress her, or keep it something simple and practical? My mind kept asking questions. What should I wear? What should I say to her? Should I wear a scarf and perhaps quote poetry? Or perhaps a simple suit and talk about the most current of events? I couldn't decide where to go with it, how to go about it. She's a Canterlot native, perhaps astound her with knowledge of Canterlot history?
She was a heavy reader, but more on the informational than the philosophical or fictional. She was of high class and grew up in Canterlot, the pristine and polished royal town. She was of the more practical and simple type too, though. Hmm... Keep the restaurant but perhaps keep everything else simple. "Meet me at..." I paused, my quill stopping in it floating tracks. I never really ate out a lot, definitely nothing quite like this. I gave an irritated huff as I began sifting through my mind for the name of a restaurant.
There were always plenty of advertisements for them in the newspaper and such information was included with many of the trivial facts and information sewn through it. One finally came to mind: The Cerulean Pegasus. It was a fair distance from either of us and would work quite nicely for for such an event. One more thought came up that would also be necessary. What time? Seven? Seven sounds fairly nice. "...The Cerulean Pegasus at seven o' clock, tonight. Signed, Observant Eye." My how convenient it was to have such information at hoof.
With that my quill dotted a period, finishing the would-be love letter, depositing itself into the inkwell. I then read over it once...twice...thrice. It left an odd taste in my mouth for some strange reason though. It was sound, but it had such a generic air.
I stepped up from my work space, needing to clear my head and try to think differently. I trotted over to a nearby window, opening it up to let in some fresh air to the stuffy room. I looked out of it, letting in the soft sounds of chirping birds give me some kind of white noise to think to.
"Perhaps I'm going about this a bit wrong?" I wondered aloud. "Maybe I should try to be spontaneous? Leave her a message of a location and time, then catch her by surprise with the date." I nodded slowly at the idea. "That could work."
I hurriedly trotted back to my work zone, another sheet moving into the writing area. The already placed sheet of paper wadded itself up into a crumpled ball and soared through the air, though instead of going into the waste basket it unintentionally flew out the window. I was much too wrapped up in this spurt of courage to care.
"Dear Twilight, Meet me at The Cerulean Pegasus tonight at seven." I read it over and felt just a little bit giddy at the thought of her reading this and coming. Another thought came to mind which interrupted my day dream. How will she know it's me? I thought quickly, looking for a solution to the predicament. "I'll be the dark stallion with the scarf." That ought to work, right?
I nodded in agreement with myself, an assured smile across my face. The new message for her folded itself in half magically and a drawer pulled open, an white envelope came out opening. The letter slipped in and I sealed it, making haste out of my study and through the rest of my home outside. I began going in the direction of the library when yet another important thought came to my mind. What if she or someone else sees me deliver it?
I looked around in a panic, my mind screaming at me as I scrambled for a solution. Oh you fool! How could create such a message with out taking that into account?! My luck was by me again this day, but I was yet to tell whether it was good or bad. Nearby, a gray, cross-eyed, Pegasus mare was stuffing a much too large package into a much too small mailbox, seemingly expecting it to work with a doubtless smile on her face.
"Oh pony feathers."
