Three Words On Your Birthday - Anthology

Chapters

Pony regatta
Horror, polygamy, octopus
Pickle, cookies, wedding
Music, time, Octavia
Boop, clop, squee
Translucent megaboner
Awesome, maybe, related
Oooooh.... Rainbow Dash! x3
Potato war
Canopy, overindulgence, sherbet
Juice, robot, justice
A What Now?

Pony regatta

Scootaloo peered over the edge of the cloud. It was a long way down.

Rainbow Dash stood between two well-dressed pegasi. "Yeah, Scootaloo!" she yelled, jumping up and down, "You're gonna win this!" The stallion to her left gaped in astonishment; his monocle popped free and dangled, swinging.

With a smile, the tiny orange filly flexed her wings. The pegasi ahead and behind were doing the same. She dug her arms and legs a little further into the needle-shaped cloud, sinking a bit. This was what she'd practiced. Her team was ready.

"Ready," called the zebra-striped pegasus below them, and a moment later, "Steady..."

With a KRA-KOOM, he kicked a darkened cloud.

Scootaloo's heart pounded as her wings dug furiously at the air. She could feel the ghostly extensions of her feathers, the invisible wingspan without which flight would be impossible. The needle-shaped cloud flitted forward with the power of eight small pegasi.

And as she and her peers soared high above the earth, on a cloud shaped for racing, Scootaloo grinned. This was freedom, and the only thing better than this feeling right now would be the sweet taste of victory.

Author's Note

For Warren Hutch, author of Windfall and Earth and Sky,1/20/12. Story prompt: pony regatta

Horror, polygamy, octopus

Rarity always knew she would die of a fall.

She'd heard ponies of all types describe dreams where they fell but woke before they hit the ground. She'd heard accounts of dreams from earthponies and her fellow unicorns about flying, but she'd never had one herself. Only the falling dreams happened.

And she never woke in time.

Her foalhood horrors had come to life in the skies of Cloudsdale, when her beautiful wings evaporated, and in the steep, pitch-black tunnels of the Diamond Dogs as she was carried unceremoniously across gut-wrenching gaps in the cave floors by a leaping diamond dog. While chasing a Discorded Rainbow Dash, the rope Pinkie left unsecured in the balloon had dangled the two of them precariously. Big Greedy Spike had abruptly turned into an apologetic little dragon while hanging onto a cliff, and that unexpected tornado at the Wonderbolts training grounds left her tumbling in midair.

But today was none of those. Today was the maiden voyage of Princess Twilight Sparkle's new sky yacht. It was supposed to be Canterlot decadence and champagne daydreams, not certain death.

Of course this would happen on the day Rainbow Dash (who had saved her thrice) was being inducted into the Wonderbolts. Of course a sudden gust would rock the boat while everypony was watching Pinkie Pie's song-and-dance. Of course she had never been able to perform any of the emergency spells Twilight had tried to teach her.

As she screamed, a detached part of her was watching how slowly the ground approached. The yacht was riding the jet stream to Manehattan, higher than she'd ever been before, and below her was a patchwork quilt of fields ripe for harvest. She would see Canterlot Mountain in the distance, if she could lift her eyes from approaching doom. She would be able to trace her downward progress against the alpine altitudes. But she couldn't look away.

A flash of light startled her, and she stopped screaming. That vile spirit of Chaos, Discord the Unpredictable, was falling beside her. Most incongruously, he was sitting on a chaise lounge -- her chaise lounge -- sipping tea. "Will mi'lady have one lump or two?"

Her response was to scream and gesture wildly at the earth below.

"I take it you'd rather not have any lumps," said Discord, glancing downward. He sighed. "I suppose my dear friend Fluttershy would be distraught if this were to play out, so here's the deal. You shall perform one favor of my asking, at the time of my choosing, and you will keep this tawdry arrangement our little secret."

Rarity looked down. She could see two oxen drawing a cart along a road near the field she assumed was directly below. They looked like ants, but they were rapidly getting nearer.

"Well?" asked Discord.

"I'm thinking!" shouted Rarity, annoyed.

A half-smile appeared on Discord's ridiculous face. "Astute to the bitter end. What's white and purple and red all over?"

Rarity crossed her forelegs. "Deal," she harrumphed.

With a flash of light, Rarity found herself standing on all fours. She was in Manehattan's Grand Hub Station, in an otherwise unoccupied stall in the ladies' room; she'd found herself there once before, during Fashion Week, and she would never forget the elegant lighting fixtures, nor the... unique scent only a well-traveled populace could generate.

She lifted one hoof in disgust, then turned toward the tiny enclosure's door. The graffiti scratched into the paint gave her pause: "Don't worry, my rare creature. It won't be something silly like a polygamous marriage with Spike, Fancy-Pants, and Gummy. Or maybe it will. See you around, dearie! -D"

Rarity gulped.

Author's Note

Written for Daftles of dA (and sundry places less savory) on his birthday.
Two-out-of-three prompt: HORROR, POLYGAMY, OCTOPUS.

Pickle, cookies, wedding

"I do." Pinkie Pie could take the solemnest of ceremonies and insert a week's worth of party joy into each word.

"And do you, McIntosh Plowsworth Apple, take Pinkamena Diane Pie to be your lawfully wedded bride?" Reverend Wattle smiled gently. How the lad had grown since the wake for his parents.

With a playful smile, Big Mac looked deep into those cerulean eyes and said simply, "Eeyup."

A crowd large enough to fill an entire orchard meadow can take a surprisingly long time to stop laughing.

Rev. Wattle's voice rang out clear and true. "Let all ponies on the earth and in the skies above know that two lives are joined here in harmony. May their chords never grow dissonant, and may their bounty grow in fertile soil."

The crowd stamped their hooves twice as the joy-filled couple kissed. Then cheers and hat-throwing began as Mac and Pinkie embraced, their necks pressed together in an equine hug.

The reception went well, but a few guests were taken aback by the mild practical jokes set by Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy. The latter's sense of humor had grown more adorably sinister since she and Discord had begun spending weekends together working on his empathy and her boldness.

Romance was not in everypony's heart, however. Rarity had found herself with more work than she could handle since Twilight's coronation. Twilight had been swamped with royal business, and since she and Spike were a package deal, Rarity found herself alone more evenings than she liked. The carousel seemed less cheerful, no matter how brightly she lit it. She sat alone at a table while the others danced.

"Well hey there, Rarity," said a heavily accented voice, "D'ya need a dance partner?" Rarity winced. It was Hayseed Turniptruck. "Ah've come alone, an' Ah'd be more'n pleasured if'n you'd care tah step out."

She was about to turn him down, but then she saw the cookies at the buffet table. She knew herself better than her friends thought she did; obsessing over food was a sign usually followed by a week shrouded in a fashionable black cloak (and a week following with less income than her budget preferred). She put on her best smile, one usually reserved for the Canterlot elite and the fashion magazine photographers. "I would be enchanted, Hayseed."

Perhaps it was the aged cider, or the Pinkie Pie atmosphere, but it was Rarity's best night in months. Upon its conclusion, she politely kissed him on the cheek and returned to her home.

There was joy in her heart for the newly married couple and a warm glow at her decision: she would stop isolating herself. Her business could handle the bad press, if there would be any, of her enjoying herself in her own hometown with the ponies she'd grown up with.

Yes, resolved Rarity, she could be more than just a fashionista and a hero. She could be a friend to herself. And that mattered more to her now than she ever thought it could.

Author's Note

For Harwick on deviantArt. Keywords: pickle, cookies, wedding.

Music, time, Octavia

The Grand Galloping Gala was the most prestigious social event in all of Equestria. Nopony (nodonkey, nogriffon) was ever invited twice, so for that night alone, all the up-and-coming powerhouses of industry, the titans of celebrity, and the everyday working folk mingled together, sharing stories and making connections.

There were three exceptions to this rule. The Princess always attended, as did the palace staff, as did the Wonderbolts.

The musicians were not among the privileged few whose ruined evening at the paws of an animal stampede could be shrugged away for the following year. Cake icing sat slowly drying in Octavia's mane as she breathed in and out quite calmly. The twitching of her left eyelid meant nothing, she told herself, nothing at all.

The maidstaff swept up the shards and the crumbs and the discarded bits of clothing, chatting amiably. The echoes of their work in the Grand Ballroom were lost amidst the sheer vastness of the space.

Octavia looked over to her cello. Miraculously, it had come through the chaos without a scratch; on either side of it (and her) lay thick stone pillars, an architectural affectation not necessary for the maintenance of the roof's stability. Time slipped silently into the night, second by quiet second, as if counted off by a metronome.

It didn't matter anymore. All the stress of performance was gone with the audience and the glamour of the evening. Now it was just her and the cleaning crew and the few ponies still dazed by the events that had brought the Gala to a swift and premature end.

Taking a deep breath, she rose to her hooves. Quietly she rosined her bow. Quietly she pulled the cello upright. Quietly she stood on her hinds and counterbalanced against the cello. She closed her eyes, and imagined the view from the stage. High class ponies walked the floor in her vision, and it was enough.

Music, soft and sweet, low on the G string, sang out in the vast hall. With unerring strokes and perfect vibrato, Octavia played her heart out. The piece grew in intensity and power. For the full five minutes of the piece, everypony stopped sweeping, stopped chatting, stopped doing anything.

And as she brought the final crescendo of the movement to its rich and solid concluding double stop, she kept her eyes closed. For a moment, there was only silence. Then, the sound of hooves on the floor, applause more thunderous and yet more sincere than any she'd heard in all the playhouses of Manehatten, Seaddle, or Maneapolis.

She bowed before them, before the sweepers of dirt. Her bow was, too, more sincere than any bow she'd given before.

Author's Note

For SubjectNumber2394's birthday prompt: Music, Time, Octavia

Boop, clop, squee

Silver Spoon was just a small earthfilly. Silently, she thanked her parents for having such a large dresser full of fancy clothes, one she barely fit underneath.

She knew how to hide; she'd been doing it all her life.

Clip, clop, clip, clop. Down the long, echoing hallway the hoofsteps rang. Clip, clop toward the room she occupied. She shivered at the thought of being caught.

Golden sunlight shimmered through the gauzy curtains of the mansion. It was just out of reach. Silver Spoon longed to sit in the sunbeam, safe and secure, her hide warming in its gentle touch, with nothing hunting her.

But it was coming.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up. The hoofsteps paused outside the room. She breathed as silently and shallowly as possible; she hoped, she hoped it would turn and walk away.

It sniffed the air, and turned slowly toward the room.

With a rush and a clatter of hooves, it dove toward the dresser! Silver Spoon knew she had been cornered, and backed away, but it kept reaching, stretching out its hoof. There was no hope of escape this time!

She felt a cold horseshoe brush against her nose.

"Boop. You're it."

Author's Note

for bri-sta on dA on 4/10/13. Prompt: boop clop squee

Translucent megaboner

A white-hot strand burned across Rainbow Dash's left hindleg, and she grimaced. She didn't tell Spike that he'd missed one, for the distraction might cause him to miss more. His feet sat firmly in the stirrups, his hands grasped the saddle's horn as he hung on for dear life. He breathed his green flames frantically, as the pair swerved through the skies above Ponyville.

All around them, a thousand dragons filled the skies of Equestria, each dozens of pony-lengths from tip to tail. The mighty beasts' flames devoured the angry threads before they could flutter down through the sky and ruin the plant life below. Astride each dragon was a gold-clad unicorn in a harness. The guard unicorns' horns glowed, evidence that a military-grade Do-As-I-Think spell was overriding the dragons' wills.

This day's events would be considered an act of war perpetrated by Equestria upon the Migration. Princess Luna hoped the Canterlot Treasury held enough in its vaults to smooth over this fiasco. She put a wing around her elder sister, who silently sat with a hollow gaze watching the ruination wrought on their land by the glistening fibers that escaped the dragonsbreath.

"I didn't know," said Celestia, softly, "I didn't know. I only wanted a manecut on the balcony."

Author's Note

For dA user Reuniclus, as a birthday present, 1/14/13. Prompt: translucent megaboner

Awesome, maybe, related

It was fun jumping from cloud to cloud, but it wasn't what Scootaloo really wanted to do.

"Hey Rainbow Dash," she called out, and the blue blur zipping cross the sky resolved itself into her idol.

"What's up, squirt?"

"Maybe you could explain your cutie mark some more," said Scootaloo, "and maybe I can get my own."

"You do know it just sorta happened, right? I was being awesome, and kaboom! I got my mark." Rainbow landed on the cloud. "When Rarity had my mark, she was cranking out all sorts of crazy weather patterns. It makes me wonder if my mark meant what I thought it meant."

"Whaddya mean?"

Rainbow gestured at the small cloud playground she'd hastily constructed far above the Crusader Clubhouse. "I'm really good at weather. Really fast, too. If my mark was really about racing, Rarity would'a been racing everypony she saw, not making weather."

Scootaloo giggled, then abruptly cleared her throat in a manner she hoped came across as more adult than the giggles.

With a snap of her tail, Rainbow frowned. "Don't tell anypony I told you this, okay, kiddo? Can't have tales about me being unsure drifting around on the rumor windmills."

"As Commander-In-Chief of the Official Rainbow Dash Fan Club," said Scootaloo, holding up her right forehoof, "I swear it will not leave this cloud."

Rainbow gave her a playful noogie. "I just wish I knew what it meant for sure."

"You're the Element of Loyalty," Scootaloo said, "And you got your mark being loyal to Fluttershy. But Rarity wasn't doing anything really loyal with those clouds."

"Hmph."

"You said your sonic rainboom blew away a lot of the clouds around the camp, so it's probably weather-related for sure," Scootaloo continued, now gazing thoughtfully at the sky. "And Rarity was making a whole sky full of clouds really fast. So it's probably about doing weather really fast."

Rainbow sighed. "I've been down this road, kid."

"Wait, wait," said Scootaloo, now feeling rushed. "I've got it! It means that whatever you do, you're awesome at it."

"Eh, I guess," said Rainbow, growing more visibly frustrated at the talking and inactivity. "Hey, you want to race?"

Scootaloo lifted one of her small wings, and frowned.

"Naw, I mean race clouds. Here," Rainbow said, pulling some clouds apart with her hooves, "You ride on this one, and I ride on that one. Just don't go too fast, or it'll fall apart, and I'll have to turn around and catch you."

Over the next hour, they zipped under and through the cloud playground, which, at cloud racing speeds, was more of an obstacle course. By the time they exhausted themselves, Scootaloo with speed and Rainbow with caution, all their troubles were forgotten.

Scootaloo landed her cloud on the larger fluffy mass, and watched them merge. She shivered with exertion and the chill of altitude. "Man, I could g-go for a nap, right about n-now."

Rainbow, euphoric from her own workout, rolled onto her back and spread her wings. "C'mere, squirt," she said, her tired mind shading reality with memories of when her father used to bring her home sweaty and exhausted from the Cloudsdale public playclouds. "I've got a nice, warm spot just for you."

Scootaloo grinned so wide, she thought her head would split in two.

Author's Note

For deviant Grenaddas, a birthday request inspired by Afternoon Nap (see above) and Derpidety's Lullaby for the Coolest Pegasi.

Oooooh.... Rainbow Dash! x3

"No way!" yelled Rainbow Dash, grinning from ear to ear.

Her father smiled mischievously. "Oh, wait, I read it wrong. It says, 'Dear Fluttershy, your application to Junior Speedsters Flight Camp has been accepted.' Ow!" he said, rubbing his shoulder.

Rainbow had shoved him hard. "Don't tease me, Dad!" She fluttered into the air on just her wingtips. "This is gonna be SO AMAZING! Races twice a day, and the fastest flier gets a trophy at the end!"

"Don't forget the cloudmaking, the rainbow filtering, and all the other activities they've got," her father said.

"Gimme a break. It's not like I'm gonna be a weatherpony or something lame like that," she said dismissively. "I hear they get retired Wonderbolts to run each roost. I'm gonna learn all the secrets of being a Wonderbolt, straight from the horse's mouth."

"Got everything packed?" called Rainbow's father.

It was the day she would fly to camp with the counselor, and her enthusiasm had only grown. Yet right now, Rainbow had only one thing on her mind. "Just a minute! I gotta find it!"

Tossing her possessions from their places, she almost wished she kept her room more organized. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a blue glint of sunlight.

Her father popped into her room just as she pulled the necklace around her neck. "I see you found it." He gazed at the rough blue gemstone dangling there, marked in white by the gentle but firm hoof of an artist, a hoof he knew well.

Rainbow smiled up at him. "She's proud of me, right dad?"

He looked at his little girl, growing up so fast, already heading off to summer camp. "She's as proud of you as anypony ever could be, Rainbow. And I'm proud of you too."

Rainbow Dash stood there for a moment, then buried her face in his chest. "Don't go anywhere, Dad. I want to show you my trophy when I get back."

Author's Note

For the artist Tyruas on dA. Prompt: Oooooh.... Rainbow Dash! x3

Potato war

Rainbow Dash stared at the boar she'd pinned down on the bridge just east of the town square. "Whaddya think you're gonna do in Ponyville with that?"

He glanced at the bronze spear that had been knocked from his stubby hand. "Chasing thief, bluebird. Now out of my way or you sorry."

A crowd gathered, and one brown stallion pulled the gleaming weapon further from the beast's grasp.

"Are you some kind'a guard?" asked Rainbow, as she took in his armor, his round-shorn tusks, and his facial dye. The patterns were clearly designed to make him look fiercer.

Suddenly, a dozen deer dashed swiftly across the bridge, each carrying a brown sack. A single potato fell from one deer's bag as it sped past. "Let me up!" shouted the boar, struggling under Rainbow's grasp. "Father the king no happy about pony wrestling. Unless you want kiss?" He puckered his lips.

"Eeeew," said Rainbow, trying to pull her face as far as she could without compromising her hold. She was glad she didn't have to be the one to figure this out. As with any weirdness in town, Twilight Sparkle would be here soon. Politics was her thing.

Author's Note

For Noben, webcomic and dA artist, 1/26/13. Story prompt: potato war

Canopy, overindulgence, sherbet

Without a word, Fluttershy dropped through the canopy of Whitetail Woods. Her eyes searched the ground frantically; where was it?

"Wait up!" called Rainbow Dash, panting. She was always surprised whenever Fluttershy got a burst of speed; it only seemed to happen when the shy yellow pegasus was distraught. Then again, it probably had something to do with that freaky Stare of hers. Sometimes Rainbow thought Rarity was the only one of the group without some weirdo power.

With a gasp, Fluttershy dove toward the ground and landed. She huddled down and spread her wings protectively. "Don't panic, little guy," she coo'd, softly. "We'll get you mended and up again in no time."

She turned, and Rainbow could finally see what she held. It was the ugliest rat she'd ever seen. "Gaaah!" she exclaimed, backing away. Then she saw the wings. "Hold on. What kind of critter is that?"

"It's a leaf-nosed bat, Rainbow," said Fluttershy. "He's got a sinus infection, and his echolocation doesn't work right now." She looked down at the bat, which had a face made from an inside-out nose. "That's what you get for overindulging on sherbet-filled flies in the ice cream parlor's dumpster, mister."

Rainbow glanced at the woods around them. The cool spring air rustled through the leaves, and the ground was dappled by the sunlight that made it through the leaves overhead. It was almost like a tunnel made out of trees. It was rare for her to slow down, except when napping, so she'd never taken the time to appreciate the experience before "Wow," she breathed. "Awesome."

Two pegasi walked back to Fluttershy's cottage, one with a sniffling bat tucked under one wing, one gazing up in wonder.

Author's Note

For Kat on dA: canopy, overindulgence, sherbet

Juice, robot, justice

The punch bowl wobbled and nearly tipped over, but Pinkie Pie kept it on her back with some nimble hoofwork. Gently she nudged it onto the counter, then reared up and tipped the juice into the sink. While she watched it swirl away, she let out a great big yawn. The party had been over for all of ten minutes, but she still had work to do before she could go to sleep. After all, Sugarcube Corner's dishwasher was a hard worker.

Pinkie smiled as she scrubbed the lipstick from Rarity's cup. Even if someone invented some crazy robot to wash dishes, it probably wouldn't get the lipstick as clean as Pinkie's washcloths.

Some days, she wished she was more than a dishwasher. Out of the entire Elements of Harmony Super Squad (as she called her friends in her mind), both AJ and Rarity were business owners, Rainbow was the head of the weather team, Fluttershy was a groomer and kennel keeper, and Twilight had her family's money to supplement her librarian wages.

Pinkie thought back to that very first day, when she'd seen Twilight and Spike coming into town. She'd gotten a tingle, an itch up her back that meant she was going to be meeting someone new. Back then, she'd made friends with every other pony in town just so she could entice them to hold parties at Sugarcube Corner. Knowing birthdays was just her hook for getting them in the door. And when the Cakes were making money, Pinkie could work longer hours.

But then they'd gone out to the forest, and Pinkie had made the scary trees less scary, and they'd crossed that bridge to the ruined palace. The mad dash to the old throne room had winded her. (She'd gotten a little pudgy eating the leftovers while doing the dishes.) Twilight had made that speech about being friends, and it was the first time in a long time someone had called Pinkie a friend and meant it; just because she was annoying and bubbly didn't mean she was blind to others' reactions to her.

Then the Elements had become necklaces, and poured forth a rainbow of justice at Nightmare Moon.

In that amazing moment, their hearts touched. They had become lifelong friends in the blink of an eye. Pinkie could still hardly believe it, even now while cleaning up a party for the five ponies she knew as well as her own sisters. That moment permeated her existence thence forward. She didn't know what paths the future held, except that she would not walk alone ever again.

She smiled. For a rock farmer's daughter, such riches were immeasurable.

Author's Note

For ReiDuran on the mlpg: juice, robot, justice

A What Now?

Pinkie Pie tilted her head slightly. "A what now?"

With a wave of her hoof at the boutique's interior, and a furious look on her face, Rarity yelled, "A catastrophe! A conundrum! A total mess I'm going to have to clean up before I can open my doors for business again!"

A flash of light took them both by surprise. "Ladies," said a sneering voice, "I'm here for my fitting." Discord stood in a magically cleared space in the middle of the floor. An urchin's rags were draped about him.

"And you!" shouted Rarity, her cheeks red, "You have the AUDACITY to come into my place of BUSINESS and make DEMANDS of me without any HOPE of sincere compensation!"

Discord put a fingertip to his lips. For once, he looked flustered. "Well, I-"

"You, you, you! It's always about you, isn't it?" scoffed Rarity. "Harumph! If you REALLY cared, you could do the COMPLETELY unexpected and add order instead of chaos. But nooooo, you HAVE to be the center of attention. Oh look, I'm Discord," she said, picking some torn clothing from the floor and placing it on her back. She stood on her hindlegs and swayed her body in imitation of his sinuous movements. "I'm so wacky! I make everypony frightened even though I'm cracking jokes because they know I'm just putting on a nice face for laughs!"

Pinkie looked at Discord, her eyes wide. "I'm gonna go get Twilight."

Discord looked back, his eyes just as wide. "Way ahead of you." He pulled Princess Twilight from his pocket and set her on the floor in front of them.

Twilight looked around in confusion. Her eyes met those of Pinkie and Discord, who each cowered behind one of her wings. Then she saw the shop's state, and immediately put up a force field. "You two are SO gonna get it later," she muttered.

Author's Note

For Phlar1245.