Twilight stepped over the threshold cautiously, her wings clenched tightly against her body. Her hooves sank into the plush cream carpet as she walked inside. She glanced around the room as foals outside played in the bright sunshine (sunshine, ladybugs awake…)
Twilight ran a gentle hoof across a dusty bookshelf (… That creaks with the weight of a hundred obscure volumes on magical theory as she pulls off yet another in a shaky cloud of fragile magic , cramming one last time for the exam tomorrow, since she know she can’t sleep, not tonight…) and turned to regard a silent, ragged plush bear siting on a bed.
Her eyes travelled to the bright window with its blue shades, so different than (… The dark red curtains drawn tight against the sun as she stains her blankets with tears, blubbering out the latest petty cruelty through wracking, choking sobs. Shining’s warm hoof runs along her trembling back soothingly.
“I almost feel sorry for them, Twily. Because they can’t see how special you really are." His voice is as warm as the mug of jasmine tea he’s brought her…)
The old yellow stain still marred the ceiling after all these years. She can still remember back when
(… “I’m sorry, mom! I didn’t know it would react that way, I’ll never do it again, promise! Not without a fume hood"….)
Finally, after long, silent minutes, Twilight stepped out of the room and walked down the old staircase, skipping the fifth step, the one that wailed like a wooden demon. She smiled graciously and nodded at the nervous family of pegasi that huddled in the kitchen.
"Thank you for letting me visit," she said, as warm and aloof as Celestia taught her to be.
"It was our pleasure, Princess," one of the mares answered, grinning nervously. Twilight walked into the afternoon outside, into the crowded street, before finding a place to take off and fly to the palace. She didn’t cry - it’s not her room, it hasn’t been for at least a generation. But her heart still pinched as she landed in the courtyard and made her way to the throne room.
"Bring in the first petitioner," she sighed. “Evening court is officially in session."
The Cool Aunt: Rainbow already has the whiskey-burned cigarette smoker's voice of a free-spirited, eccentric aunt. (I have a great aunt who very much fits the bill.)
Saturday: Pinkie truly is the glue that holds Ponyville together and keeps all of those separate neuroses from turning the place into a slaughterhouse, eyup. Also.. Princess Snugglebutt. Yes.
Perchance to Dream: Ooh, based on Wicked lyrics? I really did like the visual of AJ rolling around in nature and dozing off.
Just Passing Through: Ack. I thought this one was set up to be a visit home with a bit of 'at least I've got friends now'.. Then it kicked me right in the feels. Like.. WHAM.
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Rainbow is best Aunt. This is undeniably true. But yeah, she struck me as the adult in a child's life who bullshits them with ridiculous stories and enjoys telling them about her crazy exploits. My mom and dad act that way for my cousins, and I plan on doing the same for any nieces and nephews that come my way... hehe...
Princess Snugglebutt is best Princess. And Pinkie is best nosy do-gooder. Also, I had to make up for the terible, dysfuntional Twinkie I wrote by having something light-hearted and sweet for once. And, y'know, I'm obsessed with Pink Pony. That too.
AJ nature-napping is comething I've wanted to write for a while. I'm always afraid the poor girl is a workaholic, and so I wanted to show a very different side of her, plus some Yellow Pone Love because there's not enough of that in the world either. Plus poetry-prose is very fun to write.
And sorry, Loeden... I thought you had realized by now that I wait for the unsuspecting reader to be lulled into a false sense of d'awwww, and then BAM! Flying feels-kick! Especially with Princesses, because the "ALL MY FRIENDS ARE DEAD!!!" angst is so very, very delicious. I'm glad it did its intended job of giving you the holy-shit sads. Because I'm evil like that...
2985133 Auntie Rainbow reminds me of my Great Aunt Gerry, who went to clown college and loved pot, while my grandmother was off being the typical respectable 1940's wife.
There's one in every family, or even honorary family.
2987949 Your Great Aunt Gerry sounds fantastic.
My parents didn't do the pot or clown college, but my dad convinced my cousin Holly that the cages around trees on a caribou and emu farm where our family boarded on while in New Zealand were to keep the trees from running away. Then he told her that "going the wrong way" on switchbacks was what was causing my brother and I to shrink, and freaked her out in a train tunnel by making monster reflections in the darkened window, and continued to mess with her (shaky on the details) until she turned 11 and wouldn't believe his stories.
But yeah, the crazy-awesome Aunt is truly a childhood staple.
2987994 Amazingly enough, she's still up and kicking, too. She's.. 86, I think? And still a pothead, to boot.
She used to have this car we called the Jelly Bean, because it was white and rounded off when that was kinda new for cars.. And she knew a trick to overheating it, I don't remember how. Anyways, we went on a road trip and every time an Elvis song came on, she'd get the dial up in the red and somehow managed to convince me that the ghost of Elvis made cars overheat. I was five, it made perfect sense at the time.
(Edit: To this day I still change the stations when Elvis comes on if I'm in a car.)
2988012 Holy crap, your great Aunt's a badass! She sounds like an amazing lady, no doubt. Long and crazy may she live.
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If you try Twidash, I'll write snuggly Twipie or something for my next romance-y TMP submission.
When you mentioned the pegasus family I thought Twilight had finally snapped and taken one last trip down memory lane before the slaughter continued. D:
In comparison, having lost her mortal family and friends isn't that bad!