Prelude
Bam.
“Aunt Orange! Uncle Orange!” the young filly cried, slamming the door open and dashing across the dining room. She skidded to a halt before her uncle and aunt, thrill and revelation glinting in her bright green eyes.
“Whatever is the matter, my dear?” the pale mare asked, frowning slightly as she put down her knife and fork. The stallion beside her crinkled his brows in concern.
“I’m mighty sorry, but I hav'to go home!” the filly declared, waving an excited hoof at the shining rainbow visible outside the window. “I've just found out who I’m supposed t’be! I need t’–”
Her uncle knocked a hoof onto the table suddenly, and she jumped at the noise. “Nonsense!” he exclaimed. “You must stay, Applejack. I have seen a true Manehattanite in you; Manehattan is your destiny, you mark my words. Returning to Ponyville would be absurd!”
Her face fell, and she quickly opened her mouth in protest. “But I–”
“No buts, my dear, you heard your Uncle Orange,” her aunt interrupted, her voice firm. A smile crossed the mare’s delicate features. “I must say, your upbringing may have left you with some… peculiarities, but in the past few weeks I have seen your inner city pony shining through – and what a gem she is! In fact, I am quite sure you will soon gain a cutie mark in city life!”
“You must stay, we insist!”
The filly recoiled slightly at their enthusiastic expressions. She lowered her head, her own determination beginning to cloud with doubt. She felt her aunt put a gentle hoof around her, and looked up to meet the mare’s brilliant sapphire eyes.
“I understand that you’re homesick, Applejack,” Aunt Orange said softly, “but it would be unthinkable to sacrifice your bright, sophisticated future to spend your life on a…FARM.” The last word came out as a malevolent hiss, the mare’s voice uncharacteristically bitter. Her eyes drifted towards her own cutie mark, three brightly painted oranges, and she tightened her grip on the filly.
“We only want the best for you, dear. Surely you understand?”
Applejack looked at the glowing, expectant faces before her, her resolve fading. Her shifting gaze swept over her uncle’s tightened lips, his unusually rigid body; her aunt’s pallid features, eyes wide, almost pleading, begging.
How could she not?
She felt a lump form in her throat. Taking a deep breath and swallowing her words, she lifted the corners of her trembling lips to form an obedient smile.
“I understand, Aunt Orange, Uncle Orange. Thank you.”
The dazzling lights of the city’s skyline glittered, illuminating her vivid magenta eyes.
She pressed her forehead against the cold glass pane, strands of her untamed hair falling loosely across her face as she stared down at the bustling streets of midnight Manehattan. Her breath fogged the glass as she watched carriages carrying late-night passengers dash along the tar roads, glowing neon billboards signposting their paths through the impatient blaring of motor vehicles. Her intrigued eyes followed the ponies that peppered the marble white footpaths, some alone or closely coupled, some clumped together in idly large crowds, clad in all sorts of eccentric fashions.
“Can’t sleep?”
She started, then relaxed as she recognised the voice. As she turned, a pegasus draped in flaming orange stepped out of the shadow of the doorway, a smirk daubed across her pale yellow features.
“Nah, just not tired yet,” Rainbow Dash replied, trying her best to dismiss the remark casually. She cursed inwardly as she heard the tremor in her voice, her facade of coolness instantly crushed.
She sneaked a glance at the yellow pegasus, hoping her momentary display of weakness had gone unnoticed. Yet ever so observant, Spitfire chuckled and rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, right. Trying to play it cool as always, huh?”
Darn it.
“Don’t worry, I was just like you before my first show too.” Spitfire’s expression softened, and she stepped closer to place a reassuring wing on Rainbow. “Seriously, with the amount of time you’ve spent practising, I’m sure you’ll be fine – if you get some sleep, that is. Got that show first thing tomorrow morning, and… well,” she snickered, “crashlanding doesn’t exactly rank high on that awesomeness scale of yours.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Rainbow laughed. A grateful smile formed on her lips. “Thanks, Spitfire.”
“No problem.” Spitfire waved a hoof, then paused as she failed to stifle a yawn. “Oh Celestia, I think I might go hit the hay myself.” Shaking her head, she turned towards the door. “Night, Rainbow Dash.”
“Night, Spitfire.”
She turned back towards the window, hearing Spitfire leave the room and close the door quietly behind her. Sighing, she shut her eyes and took a deep breath.
Get a grip, Rainbow Dash. You won’t mess things up. You won’t. YOU WON’T.
She opened her eyes, watching as the flashing billboards across the street mimicked the rapid beating of her heart. The vibrant colours reminded her vaguely of her friends back home, and she thought of their words of farewell before her departure from Ponyville. The lengthy, yet somewhat comforting pep talk from the lavender alicorn. The confident words of encouragement from the graceful unicorn. The timid squeaks of reassurance from the shy pegasus. The excited screaming of an eccentric and equally lovable earth pony.
They believe in me.
A grin spread across her face, her body suddenly feeling lighter as her heart lifted. She let out a slow breath as fierce determination surged into her.
That’s right; if there was one thing she knew for sure, it was that she wouldn't ever, ever let her friends down. No matter what it took.
Her eyes landed on the distant eastern mountains beyond the skyscrapers. Soon, the sun will rise, and bring with it – she swallowed quickly – her long-awaited coronation. Tomorrow was the day. The day when all those years of training will finally pay off. The day she had been dreaming of for her entire life.
She glanced back at her bedside table, where a newly polished badge shone in the darkness of the room – an avatar of a pegasus sculpted from gold, the lightning shape almost mirroring the outline of her own cutie mark.
No matter how many times she saw or felt or polished that badge, it still felt strange in her hooves. It seemed nearly too good to be true. Sometimes she still couldn't quite process the reality of the situation – the wonderful, amazing truth. Her grin grew wider.
She was Rainbow Dash. Pegasus. Wonderbolt.
The dazzling lights of the city’s skyline glittered, illuminating her dull emerald eyes.
She rested her hooves on the windowsill, gazing down at the familiar scenery below. Her half-shut eyes traced the flowing river of metallic insects, shuffling amongst hasty carriages and indolent clusters of ponies. Giant neon billboards blinked in a rainbow of colours above the noisy crowds, shrouding the city in artificial moonlight. Distantly below her, she heard the harsh screeching of skidding vehicles, the thumping of chaotic music, the jumbled voices of ponies yelling, singing, laughing, wailing.
Tonight was cold, as usual.
Her lips tightened as she thought of the coming day. Her aunt had spoken of an invitation to a Wonderbolts show – one she was obviously expected to attend. While luncheons and dinners were never exactly pleasant, sporting events were downright frightening. She shuddered at the prospect of being trapped for hours in a stadium brimming with crazed fans, her only sane company being arrogant, conceited aristocrats.
Her mind drifted to an especially unlikable stallion she had met at the last function; knowing his connections, he would undoubtedly be present at this event. The thought of seeing his obnoxious snout again sickened her.
That aside, she didn't dislike the Wonderbolts themselves. In fact, she had always appreciated the swift movements of the pegasi, their flight being an artful display of agility and speed. Watching them always brought a small sliver of fantasised hope for her, even for just a fleeting moment. For her, they represented power, liberty, freedom.
Freedom.
She glanced back at her bedside cabinet, upon which elaborate strings of pearls lay, their cloudy sheen glowing in the darkness of the room. Behind them stood a framed photograph, the three smiling faces within it faded, curtained by a blanket of dust. Her lips tightened; sometimes she found herself wondering if she had made the right choice, uncertainty and regret still tugging at her heartstrings after all those years. She always repressed the thought quickly, afraid of what she would discover if she dared to delve into her own buried desires.
There was no point to it, after all. The reality was set in stone; she couldn’t possibly turn back now.
She was Applejack. Earth pony. Socialite.
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Good start. Description is there and you don't focus solely on it. A little fast paced. Good amount of inner turmoil. The ending declaring of both AJ and RD caught my eye as it should so great use of paragraph structure. My only niche is the use of rue near the end. It feels...awkward, mainly because it's a verb. I'd recommend grief or regret or any other variations of the word.
5899200
Thank you for the feedback!!
Fixed
As an editor, I was bored as the grammar and everything else was GREAT. (or because I'm still in-traning and am too inexperienced to spot Amy.)
But seriously though, it's good.
5900423
5904885
True time will tell on storyline though. Most stories start out great but tend peter out as they go on so keep pushing.
5904885
Thank you!
5904902
I'll try to do my best
I have but one question: Is there a Nightmare Moon in this alternate universe? Or did that never happen?
Still a good story.
So I saw this in the popular box and thought I'd give it a read because it looked good and had good comments. It... Didn't really do it for me. I can see why people like it, though. I generally love AU stories where different events unfold, but this one didn't tickle my fancy in the same way others have. Don't worry, author, it's nothing to do with you, it's me that's the problem, heh. Nonetheless, you still get my upvote for it, and there it shall stay.