Avocation

Chapters

III. Assistant Pastry Chef
IV. Preening Technician
V. Weatherpony
VI. Personal Assistant
VII. Barrister
VIII. Epiphany
IX. Avocation
I. Correspondence
II. Ennui

III. Assistant Pastry Chef

HRH Princess Luna of Equestria
The Royal Palace
Canterlot

Your Majesty:

Your suggestion that I seek some form of employment was rather unanticipated on my part. I did not have much time to formulate an opinion on it before Pinkie Pie seized upon it as a “super-duper awesome” idea to give me a chance to “blend in” with mainstream Equestrian society. I would argue that the chance of a dark blue pegasus blending in amongst the generally brighter-hued ponies of Ponyville is slim at best, were it not so blindingly obvious that this line of reasoning would be subsequently ignored.

Naturally, her first inclination was to ask the Cakes to provide me with a job. On the whole, this was quite sensible. Not only did the location of Sugarcube Corner promise an exceptionally short commute, but Pinkie Pie’s longstanding position there indicated a high tolerance for ponies with “unique” personalities. As predicted, they were more than willing to create a temporary position for me, with the possibility of permanent employment pending my success.

It therefore grieves me to inform you that my career as an assistant pastry chef was rather short-lived. This was not due to any particular difficulty I found in making baked goods—although the process was somewhat tedious, Mrs. Cake’s recipes were quite clear about the steps needed to adequately bake the shop’s wares. Rather, there was a slight problem with customer relations: during my stint at the register, a particularly insensitive patron had the gall to complain about the lack of variety in the scones available for purchase. As I had spent much of that morning making the goods in question, I proceeded to explain that no variety had been offered, as scones are not meant to include such ingredients as cranberries and orange peel and should therefore be enjoyed without any needless embellishment. For this, I was severely reprimanded, as it is apparently not considered a sound business practice to leave one’s customers cowering underneath a table in a pool of their own tears.

Needless to say, I tendered my resignation at the end of the day. This was accepted, though I do find myself wishing that the Cakes had at least made a pretense of wanting to give me a second chance. Still, Pinkie Pie feels quite optimistic that a pony of my talents and skills should be able to find employment relatively soon. I eagerly await your analysis of these developments.

Yours sincerely,
Penumbra Noctis

IV. Preening Technician

HRH Princess Luna of Equestria
The Royal Palace
Canterlot

Your Majesty:

Firstly, I would like to thank you for your words of encouragement as I continue to seek employment. They were indeed quite reassuring. I also appreciate your offer to act as a character reference, though at this point, I must decline. After all, you did once bear the Element of Honesty, and based on the whole of your past experience with me, there seems to be little to recommend me for by way of employability, unless you are aware of a career where ruthlessness and a tendency towards megalomania are considered desirable traits. Then again, given my most recent misadventure, I may have to reconsider your offer sooner than I might like—but I’m getting ahead of myself.

The day after my unceremonious departure from the staff of Sugarcube Corner, I received a tip from Fluttershy, who had come to Pinkie Pie’s apartment to arrange a party for an armadillo who’d recently given birth. Apparently, the owners of the local day spa had been looking for a pegasus who can act as a preener for their winged customers—being earth ponies, Aloe and Lotus Blossom lack the necessary uropygial glands for producing the appropriate oils. Given the innumerable hours you and I spent cleaning our wings to pass time while on the moon, this seemed like an ideal position.

All seemed to go well at first. Several customers complimented me on my skill at cleaning their feathers, often leaving them in the best condition in their memory. This, of course, only made sense, as I am technically still an alicorn, and alicorn preen oil is of unmatched quality to begin with. Unfortunately, many of these same ponies acted as though the establishment was less a place for physical renewal and refreshment than an excuse to gossip and socialize, which makes absolutely no sense, as they could just as easily socialize for free in the marketplace. But no, they had to prattle on and on about the most inane subjects imaginable. I thought the idea behind a spa was to provide a place to escape from the inanities of everyday life, yet these ponies squander the opportunity by swapping recipes and debating local politics!

Yet all this would have been bearable were it not for the fact that many of them seemed to want me to join in the conversation. While I understand the desire to know something about the pony who is caring for one’s body, this went beyond requests for a name and a brief biography—they wanted me to share my opinions on subjects other than proper wing care. In particular, there was one pegasus who, upon learning that I had recently left a position at Sugarcube Corner, began pestering me with endless questions about my preferences regarding muffins. Eventually, I simply told her I found the topic to be rather stupid.

The customer, however, reacted with the most melodramatic indignity I have ever seen, ranting about foalhood bullies, the inadequacies of the modern educational system, the trials of being a single mother, and other topics which I presume have some relevance to her life story. My attempts at apology proved fruitless, as she flew out of the establishment, sobbing in a most unbecoming fashion and informing the owners that she would not return so long as I continued to work there. Although Aloe and Lotus Blossom informed me that they believed my subsequent apology was genuine, it appears that that particular mare is quite beloved by the local populace, and implying that she might be mentally deficient is an extremely serious breach of etiquette. As a bad reputation can be absolutely disastrous in a town as small as Ponyville, they were unwilling to take the risks associated with giving me a second chance. Thus, I was dismissed from the position.

Pinkie Pie took this news in stride when I told her of this. She informed me that socialization is generally approved of in workplace contexts, so long as it is not excessive, and there are not explicit orders to avoid doing so. More importantly, she told me that she’d found a job where I would be working directly under one of the other Element-Bearers, who could take my unique situation into account when assigning me duties. As you can imagine, this has left me cautiously optimistic, despite my most recent setback.

As always, your personal analysis of the situation shall be gladly accepted.

Yours sincerely,
Penumbra Noctis

V. Weatherpony

HRH Princess Luna of Equestria
The Royal Palace
Canterlot

Your Majesty:

According to Pinkie Pie, the best way to avoid succumbing to discouragement is to assess one’s situation with positivity. Thus, it gives me great pleasure to report that I have managed to maintain employment for more than one day.

In truth, however, I was rather stunned to be offered a job on the local weather team in the first place. I would have thought that my record of attempted regicide would disqualify me from any sort of government position. I had not realized that “The Nightmare” and “Penumbra” were considered two separate entities for legal purposes, nor do I now know whether to attribute this to your sister’s goodwill or to an intercession on your part, though I suspect that particular question will be answered in your response.

Rainbow Dash seemed to be quite impressed with my abilities in my initial evaluation, though this may be due to her astonishment that I would even think to clear the skies of clouds by using lightning to cause a chain reaction, rather than bucking the clouds one at a time with my hind legs. Then again, she may have been equally engrossed by the fact that I was able to produce the initial bolt by kicking a cloud with one of my forehooves, as opposed to jumping on top of it. Personally, though, I see no reason why she should have been surprised at this display. After all, you originally made me as powerful as your sister, and even in my diminished state, my pegasus magic is nearly as strong as hers.

In any case, my talent for creating lightning lead Rainbow Dash to place me with Thunderlane, a stallion who specializes in the management of cumulonimbus clouds. I must confess that I thought this sounded like a very noble profession, and I was glad to learn that a thunderstorm had fortuitously been scheduled that very afternoon, which would give me an opportunity to observe how a millennium of progress had affected the creation of these most majestic of clouds.

Sadly, what I witnessed that day was not the artful and meticulous condensation of the water vapor in the local atmosphere, but rather the assembly of clumps of mass-produced cloud that had been delivered from a factory. Rainbow Dash explained to me that this was necessary, as pegasi would have no time to control all the weather in Equestria if each cloud had to be specially made for the occasion. But why can they not simply allow the weather to run its natural course, only interfering when absolutely necessary, as in the old days? Have these ponies truly become so shiftless as to prefer the convenience of meteorological foreknowledge to the quality of a hoof-crafted rainstorm?

Still, despite my disappointment, I returned to work the following day, which was mostly spent keeping cumulus clouds from overdeveloping. Thunderlane was quite casual in his interactions with me, but, having learned my lesson from the spa incident, I interpreted these as normal workplace conversations. I did, however, find it very odd when he expressed his approval of my “tight flank.” I proceeded to ask him why he thought the region on my side between my rib cage and my hind legs was “tight.” The conversation that followed revealed that he had actually been referring to the general area to the rear of my cutie mark. Accordingly, I informed him that that area was actually called the “haunch,” and that one should not be careless with words, lest they lose their specificity and therefore their general usefulness. Thunderlane agreed with this idea, and he subsequently promised to use the proper terminology in the future.

Five minutes later, it occurred to me that Thunderlane’s initial remark implied that he had been staring at my haunches. Alas, Rainbow Dash pushed a cloud between him and the bottom of Ghastly Gorge, causing me to waste a perfectly executed buck to the jaw. By the end of the day, I had tendered my resignation, citing the unfriendly work environment. That said, Rainbow Dash seemed genuinely disappointed to see me go and informed me that she was more than willing to make a position available should I change my mind—but so long as that particular stallion remains on the Ponyville weather team, this seems unlikely.

Ever the optimist, Pinkie Pie insisted that the fact that I had lasted twice as long at this position as I had at the others was evidence that I was gaining valuable workplace experience. I have no doubt that she genuinely believes this to be true, though whether it would be prudent for me to entertain this idea is uncertain.

Yours sincerely,
Penumbra Noctis

VI. Personal Assistant

HRH Princess Luna of Equestria
The Royal Palace
Canterlot

Your Majesty:

In regards to your query, the situation you describe sounds like a straightforward case of fraud. Even if the defendants’ product was indistinguishable from the established brand in a blind taste test, they are still trying to use another product’s reputation for quality to sell their own. I would recommend several years of hard labor, but then again, you know better than most ponies about my admittedly authoritarian tendencies.

This, conveniently enough, provides a thematically appropriate introduction to my latest foray into the workforce. Lately, the Mayor of Ponyville has been quite burdened with paperwork, largely as a result of the occasional goings-on in the area (and by “goings-on,” I mean “wanton destruction of local landmarks”). She has, therefore, been looking for a personal assistant to handle some of the more mundane tasks of her office, and Twilight Sparkle was kind enough to vouch for my organizational abilities—which, in hindsight, seems rather odd, since the abilities she refers to were primarily employed to obscure my objective of eliminating your sister from her. But I digress.

The duties of the mayor’s personal assistant consist primarily of organizing and filing the aforementioned paperwork, running various errands, and coordinating her personal schedule. It is in the execution of the last of these that I ran into some complications. I had been working as the mayor’s personal assistant for nearly a week, and even in that short amount of time, I had grown to respect her leadership abilities greatly. Twilight Sparkle had often spoken of her ability to remain relatively calm in the face of turmoil, but I was struck by the way she seemed able to balance the needs and desires of the many ponies who lobbied her for various policy changes. The deftness and aplomb with which these political acrobatics were performed were rendered all the more laudable by her ability to avoid the duplicitousness that so many in public office are wont to entertain.

In short, the citizens of Ponyville have a rare gift in Mayor Mare, and it did not take me long to realize just how much she was taken for granted. Despite her popularity with voters, all of her hard work is generally overshadowed by the town’s more colorful citizens. Of course, this is often quite understandable, most notably in the case of the Element-Bearers, but it is the height of impropriety for such an important pony to languish in obscurity.

Naturally, this particular train of thought will sound familiar to you, as it is more or less the same one I used to corrupt you one thousand years ago. You shall be pleased to learn that I resisted the temptation to convince the mayor of her fellow ponies’ ingratitude; however, I suspect you shall also be disappointed to learn that this was because I chose to take matters into my own hooves. Essentially, I used my power to coordinate the mayor’s schedule to ensure that ponies who showed her a proper amount of respect received more time with which to make their arguments. This went unnoticed for some time, leading me to believe that my actions would prove a rousing success in the long run.

Nonetheless, it seems that old habits are very hard to break, and I ended up overreacting to a particularly intransigent stallion who made an unscheduled visit to the mayor’s office on the day she was putting the finishing touches on an important tax proposal. I learned two things that day: firstly, that the phrase “ungrateful buffalo” is considered to be racially insensitive in modern times, and second, that it is not advisable to direct this slur at the mayor’s brother when he is trying to inform his sibling that her niece has gone into labor.

As you can no doubt guess, I was soon dismissed from the position. However, my current mood is quite optimistic, as I recently learned of an opening for a barrister elsewhere in Ponyville. Given that one of the Princesses of Equestria occasionally requests my opinion on legal matters, I am quite confident that I will be able to prove myself qualified for this position, pending my passage of the bar exam. Although I am not inclined to making predictions, I think I can say that I have a very good feeling about this particular job. I shall, of course, keep you updated on the situation.

Yours sincerely,
Penumbra Noctis

VII. Barrister

HRH Princess Luna of Equestria
The Royal Palace
Canterlot

Your Majesty:

It appears I was in error about the position being offered. It was not an opening for a barrister—it was for a barista at the recently opened Starbuck’s franchise across the road from the library.

My first customer ordered a venti two-thirds decaf low-fat soy caramel macchiato with whipped cream, mocha sprinkles, and a sprig of hay. And a cranberry orange-peel scone.

I walked out five minutes later.

Pointlessly,
Penumbra Noctis

VIII. Epiphany

HRH Princess Luna of Equestria
The Royal Palace
Canterlot

Your Majesty:

While your efforts to encourage me are appreciated, the recent debacle at Starbuck’s has confounded all efforts to improve my demeanor, as Pinkie Pie can attest. I don’t think my expectations could possibly have been more disappointed, even taking my initial misunderstanding into account. (And to answer your question, I have no idea why anypony would want to order a soy drink with a dairy topping.)

My continued failures at finding employment have me completely flummoxed. It seems that all the jobs available in Ponyville clash with my personality in one way or another, mostly due to my lack of the very social skills getting a job was supposed to help me acquire in the first place! Sensitivity to others is a must—I’ve learned that much, at least, but the jobs themselves have been so dreary that they bring out my worst qualities, though admittedly my brief time on the Ponyville weather team was a notable exception. Then again, the reason that one was an exception was because another pony was insensitive to me.

I explained all of this to Rarity earlier today when I stopped by the Carousel Boutique to see if she was hiring (she isn’t, by the way). Her response was interesting, if only because it was one that had not been suggested to me before. She thinks I should consider going into business for myself, reasoning that the personality traits you originally gave me make it difficult for me to be productive unless I am at the top of a hierarchy.

This seems a bit shaky to me, but then again, the question itself is rather moot. After all, becoming an entrepreneur would require me to offer some product or service to the citizens of Ponyville, and I’ve no idea what possible need there is for me to meet. How am I to understand consumers’ desires in a world where hoof-made clouds are considered obsolete? It simply doesn’t make sense to me. Perhaps mass condensation makes sense for the purposes of providing the weather in an efficient manner, but those are not the sole uses for clouds. Why would pegasi not want specially produced clouds for architectural features or furniture? Indeed, even unicorns and earth ponies could conceivably use such clouds for decoration, or adverti

Please forgive me if this letter seems rushed or sloppy, but I have just had a burst of inspiration, and can not spare the time for appropriate revisions, as I wish to strike while the iron is hot.

Penumbra

IX. Avocation

Dear Luna,

I would like to begin by apologizing for taking so long to follow up on your previous letter; the past month has been rather busy for me.

I must thank you for reminding me of the lightning-transmission spell the two of us formulated during our thousand-year sojourn on the moon. I had indeed been quite wary of knowingly allowing my various opinions and viewpoints to pass through your sister’s hooves. Your offer to invoke the Pinkie Promise to ensure the secrecy of our correspondence is appreciated, but also seems unnecessary. Both Pinkie Pie and Twilight Sparkle appear to place a great deal of importance on trusting one’s friends. Thus, if we are to be friends, I think your personal honor shall be surety enough for my purposes.

Similarly, your guess that I’d decided to follow Rarity’s advice was also correct, as was your inference that my proposed business would somehow involve hoof-made clouds. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, though, given that I’m a product of your mind in the first place. I have taken to introducing myself as an “artisan cloudsmith” to other ponies. This, I’ve found, causes many to give me more leeway in my social skills, most likely due to confusion between the words “artisan” and “artist,” though as Rarity has pointed out, my new profession has qualities of both.

I have given my business the name Cloud Nineteen (Pinkie Pie thought it was a memorable name). Essentially, I use the considerable pegasus magic available to me to condense specialized clouds for non-weather purposes. At the moment, I’m leasing an unused room in Sugarcube Corner to use as office space to meet with clients as a cloud structure would be inaccessible to earth ponies and unicorns, and I have constructed a workshop in the airspace above the store, at an altitude high enough to avoid being an eyesore (Mrs. Cake insisted on this). If my shop proves successful, I hope to be able to move towards the outskirts of town, where I’ll have more room to showcase my creations.

Business is not exactly booming, but Rarity assures me that it takes time for most ventures of this kind to turn a profit, so I am not despondent yet. Knowledge of my services has become widely known in the local pegasus community, due to the gushing praise Rainbow Dash gave to the sofa I crafted for her in my first week of business, and I’m currently finishing work on an advertisement for the Carousel Boutique, to be placed directly over Rarity’s store at an altitude where it will be visible from one of the most-used air routes between Las Pegasus and Canterlot. In addition, I have resolved my conflict with Derpy Hooves, the pegasus whom I unintentionally insulted at the spa, and she graciously accepted my gift of a cloud sculpture of her with her young filly, which has also increased my reputation locally.

As to my feelings on the job, I enjoy it immensely. Cloud Nineteen does more than simply alleviate my boredom; it gives me the satisfaction of knowing that I am contributing something to society. It is a feeling that, until recently, I had no idea was missing from my life to begin with. And, as it turns out, creating these clouds is actually rather fun, albeit in a way that Pinkie Pie has difficulty understanding.

I suppose this is the point where most of my friends would write a “friendship report” for Princess Celestia. As I still feel a bit uncomfortable conversing with her, I hope I shall be forgiven for making mine out to you instead. This experience has shown me that, even though perseverance is often difficult (particularly when the biggest obstacles are the ones you create yourself), you can rely on your friends to help you to reach your goals. There were many times when I felt like giving up on what seemed to be a fool’s errand, but the encouragement and advice of Pinkie Pie, Twilight Sparkle, and all my other friends in Ponyville (and, of course, you) allowed me to see my plan to fruition, and I’m already starting to reap the benefits.

Your friend,
Penumbra

Author's Note

There is now a fourth story in this sequence, titled π.

In addition to all my fan fiction, I've also got an original short story. It's called "The Empty Hand," it features cosmic horror in the Boston underworld, and it's currently available in eBook form on Amazon:

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For anyone who would rather support me for my pony-related content, I also have a Patreon.

I. Correspondence

HRH Princess Luna of Equestria
The Royal Palace
Canterlot

Your Majesty:

I have been informed that you wish to begin a regular correspondence with me in order to monitor my progress as I attempt to assimilate into Equestrian society. While I confess that, in my opinion, my current relationship with Pinkie Pie makes additional supervision seem a bit redundant, I also recognize that I am not in any position to refuse such a request. Accordingly, I shall be submitting regular reports to you via Spike the Dragon’s magical connection with your sister, HRH Princess Celestia.

As you are no doubt aware, I am currently residing with my guardian, although the lack of space in her quarters means that I must retreat into her mind each night, as I have no place to sleep at the moment. Roughly half of my time is spent either in this apartment or in the lodgings of Pinkie Pie’s landlords, Carrot and Cup Cake, as there is very little for me to do while my overseer attends to her duties as a baker in their shop. Suggestions that she might feasibly end her professional arrangement by requesting a royal stipend as recompense for guarding a high-profile threat to Equestria have thus far been dismissed without much consideration.

Otherwise, my time has been spent becoming acquainted with the other Elements of Harmony, so that I might learn about the “magic of friendship,” as I believe the official jargon has it. Progress has been steady in this regard: I am now on speaking terms with all of the Elements, and all seem willing (if not always eager) to assist me in my rehabilitation.

I shall continue to keep you updated on my efforts.

Your loyal subject,
Penumbra Noctis

II. Ennui

HRH Princess Luna of Equestria
The Royal Palace
Canterlot

Your Majesty:

I hope you will forgive my previous misunderstanding; I was under the impression that your desire to know of my activities stemmed from an official capacity of some sort, and that our correspondence was thus intended to be included in official records about my past and current involvement in incidents germane to the wellbeing of your subjects. I therefore endeavored to keep my subjective evaluations of my situation to a minimum.

That said, your speculation that I am having problems dealing with ennui is quite correct. I find myself to be quite listless when Pinkie is working, and often my only company consists of the defanged alligator she keeps as a pet. Occasionally, the Cakes’ two young foals stray into her room as well. I would repeat my opinions about the pair, but current social mores apparently hold that to voice those opinions would not be in good taste. For similar reasons, I shall refrain from commenting on our landlords’ parenting methods.

Yet, even with these intermittent distractions, I still find the waiting to be quite dull overall. I had originally thought this would not be a problem, having spent one thousand years in isolation on the moon. But in retrospect, those years were not as isolated as I first thought, as I always had the option of interacting with you, even though at the time we could not be properly thought of as “friends.” A co-conspirator, it seems, is better than nopony at all.

Pinkie Pie has suggested that I request your advice. Given that your experience with boredom is the same as mine, I am not certain how this will prove fruitful, but she seems quite adamant on the matter, so I shall comply. If you have any insights or recommendations concerning this matter, I shall gladly accept them.

Yours sincerely,
Penumbra Noctis