Captain Corbie navigated her ship through treacherous, shark-infested waters, and depended upon her First Mate Rad to guide their way. The dread pirate Nuance had been marooned upon a dragon infested island a long ways away, and while she felt a little bad about that, she also felt relieved. The dread pirate Nuance was a naughty, naughty pirate, and a big ol’ meanie head as well. Deck Scrubber Seville Orange and Poop Deck Swabber Pinkie Pie had joined her on her long ocean voyage as well.
Pinkie Pie stood tall, with one foreleg resting over her keen blue eyes, scanning the horizon. What she was looking for was unknown, perhaps land, perhaps danger, but knowing Pinkie, she would find something. As an act of mercy, Pinkie Pie had kept the poop deck free of its namesake, which was wonderful, because nopony wanted a poopy deck. Ew.
“Arr, beware the Snarkle Sharkle and it’s biting sarcasm.” Seville adjusted his eyepatch a bit, bumped his magnificent seafarer’s hat, (made of recycled newspaper) and being a silly sailor, he booped his captain on the snoot. “She’s a terrible beast and she can be spotted by the bubbles trailing out from behind her in the water.”
“Hey! Rude!”
“Sharkles don’t talk,” First Mate Rad whispered.
“This one does,” an annoyed voice whispered back from beneath the ship. “I’m the Snarkle Sharkle. That implies a certain level of sesquipedalian loquaciousness.”
Oblivious to the danger, Captain Corbie began to giggle.
Raising his head, Deck Scrubber Seville Orange lifted his voice in song. “Oh how I made my mother squee… when I told her I was goin’ off to sea. She did turn to beg and plead, but did not tell me of a sailor’s needs so boldly. In a far away port of call, I kissed a filly, and thus did my lips turn mouldy—”
“Oh gross!” Captain Corbie cried, and for a moment, she worried that she might be seasick. Getting mouldy lips from kissing? That was the worst! “Yuck!”
“You know,” the voice beneath the boat said, “I’m feeling kind of hungry.”
“It is getting kinda close to lunchtime,” Pinkie responded, sounding both casual and oblivious to the obvious danger. “Keep singing, Seville, maybe the whale beneath the boat can be appeased with song. Whales sing, right? Maybe that’s why whales beach themselves… they have nopony to sing with.” The curious pink mare began rubbing her chin while her blue eyes sparkled with glee.
“I’m a Snarkle Sharkle!” The voice beneath the boat now sounded offended.
“Ever since our voyage of love began, your touch has thrilled me like the rush of the wind… and your arms have held me safe from a rolling sea… there's always been a quiet place to harbor you and me. Our love is like a ship on the ocean, we've been sailing with a cargo full of love and devotion. So I'd like to know where, you got the notion… said I'd like to know where, you got the notion—”
“Don’t rock the boat, baby!” Pinkie Pie blurted out as she joined in.
“Yes, do rock the boat!” the voice said from beneath the ship.
“Don’t rock the boat, baby!” Pinkie Pie continued while she waved her forelegs about. “Don’t tip the boat over!”
“This is entirely too silly,” First Mate Rad said as he folded his forelegs over his barrel.
“Party Pooper on the Poop Deck!” Poop Deck Swabber Pinkie Pie shouted as she bounced in place. “Let’s throw him in and feed him to the Snarkle Sharkle!”
“No!” First Mate Rad cried, shaking his head. “I can be silly!” To prove this, he stuck out his tongue just a little, and raised one eyebrow.
“He’s doing his impression of Mom.” Captain Corbie’s wings flapped a few times against her sides, and she sighed at her brother’s attempts to be funny. “At least Mom is funny when she makes that face—”
“Hey!” First Mate Rad’s tongue was slurped in and he gave his sister a scowl.
Captain Corbie let out a cry as the ship lurched. She almost lost her balance, and would have, but was saved by Poop Deck Swabber Pinkie Pie before she tumbled over the rail. Seville was not so lucky, and he tumbled into the sea, right into the waiting maw of the terrible Snarkle Sharkle. The ship lurched again, and then overturned, sending the brave crew into the briny, Snarkle Sharkle-infested depths.
Nuance seemed to be perking up just a little bit, but Spike wasn’t so sure. He was sitting up on his own, but he was also quiet. Spike couldn’t be certain if Nuance was a quiet foal, or if he was plotting something, or he just didn’t feel good enough to hold a conversation. Closing his book, he thought about his list of instructions from Twilight. Obtain consent whenever possible, and do whatever was necessary to make Nuance feel better.
Spike was a firm believer that talking made one feel better. Nuance yawned, having woken up from his nap, and the colt didn’t look like he was shivering, though he was wrapped in a blanket. Fidgeting, nervous, Spike wrung his claws together, and tried to think of something meaningful to say.
“Are you feeling a little better, Nuance?” Spike asked, not knowing the colt well enough to come up with a conversation. Corbie he knew, he and Radiance shared a few things in common, but Nuance remained an unknown.
“Servants should not speak to their betters unless spoken to,” Nuance said in reply.
Blinking with great rapidity, Spike tried to recover from the verbal slap. It was a terrible, awful, almost inconceivable thing to have come out of a foal’s mouth. Spike had dealt with a lot of bratty foals, Twilight’s school had no shortage of bratty, self-entitled little snots that had to be sorted out, and Spike had sorted out quite a number.
But Nuance was something else. Nuance was the Brat Prince, and Spike was mystified on how to deal with him. Sick as he was, pitiful as he was, as helpless as he was, he had still somehow caused a spike of loathing to pierce through Spike. For some reason, he thought of Tarnished Teapot, and how his talent had made everypony hate him. Tarnish’s talent had a purpose though, making him tough enough to survive in a hostile world.
However, Nuance was too frail to even survive a strong breeze, and had no cutie mark, no talent. Keeping his temper in check, Spike said, “You know, you make it very hard to like you, Nuance.”
“I hate you all,” Nuance said in a petulant whisper that verged upon being a whine.
“Why?” Spike asked. “Why do you hate us? For that matter, why do you hate Corbie so much? She does nothing but try to be nice to you. She loves you, she loves you so much and seeing you suffer makes her really upset. Why do you do this?” Much to Spike’s surprise, Nuance began to laugh, a frail, weak sound that had very little volume.
“I hate her most of all.”
“But why?” Spike wanted to know, but he also feared the answer might make him hate Nuance.
“I hate her for how happy she is.” Nuance’s words were almost a wheezing, whining hiss. “I can’t stand her! Why must she be so happy while I suffer? Why must she be loved by so many? Just being near her makes me feel sick. I hate her so much… but I know how to hurt her.”
His guts twisting into knots, Spike found he had to know. “How?”
“I get in trouble,” Nuance replied, breathing out the words, “I get into trouble and I get punished and it hurts her more than anything. Then she gets to feel how I feel. And when she feels as bad as I do, I feel better. If I can’t be happy, then nopony should be happy.”
Spike, who had committed every word to memory, made plans to tell Twilight. He felt disgusted, there was now an intense dislike for Nuance, but also pity. This foal was messed up, and Spike felt a great deal of sympathy for the parents. In his own experience from helping Twilight run the school, a parent could do everything right, but still have a problem foal. Like Olive’s parents, who had done all they could to make her turn out right. At least Olive had been sorted out, and was now a model student with a promising future. Twilight had a knack for sorting a foal out, or finding the means to do so, very much like Celestia did.
Perhaps Nuance should come and stay for a while, but the very idea made Spike shiver.
“I’m hungry,” Nuance whined in a weak, nasal voice. “I demand to be fed.”
“Right.” Spike scratched the side of his face, nodded, and repeated himself. “Right.” He was tongue tied at the moment and having difficulty coming up with anything else to say. Spike had confronted quite a few individuals of questionable morals. He had seen the face of evil when standing by Twilight’s side. In his short life, he had seen much that was troubling, but nothing had prepared him for Nuance. For a foal, a young foal, to behave in such a way, it was unsettling. It ran against the grain of everything Spike thought he knew.
When Twilight Sparkle looked across the table, she knew that Spike had much to say, but it would have to wait. Lunch was simple, but delicious; grilled cheese sandwiches served with tomato soup, and she couldn’t imagine somepony not enjoying this for lunch. Even Nuance seemed to be enjoying himself, though it was hard to tell.
Corbie did, in fact, eat like a bird. With quick, darting head movements, she pecked at her sandwich, nipping off dainty bites, and then swallowed them down with very little chewing. This was distressing, because foals needed to chew, but almost every pegasus that Twilight knew ate this way when they weren’t being competitive.
Glancing at Seville for a second, Twilight found herself distracted and flustered. She pulled her gaze away and stared down into her bowl of tomato soup. The bowl itself was beautiful, a vibrant orange with a glittery glaze, and hoof-crafted, made by Applejack, who was teaching herself pottery. It seemed that with each passing year, Applejack grew more and more canny, more crafty, and took on new skills.
“Are you two gonna kiss?”
For a moment, Twilight had no reaction, as Corbie’s words slipped into one ear and out of the other. She bit off a bite of sandwich, began chewing, and then almost choked when the words registered in her mind. Eyes growing wide, Twilight’s head began its slow turn to look at Corbie, who had her sandwich held between her front hooves, looking sweet, cute, and innocent.
“Do you ever get mommy-wants?” Corbie asked.
A cold chill running free up Twilight’s spine made her shiver. “Corbie, darling, I’ve been meaning to ask, but what do you mean when you say ‘mommy-wants?’”
Blinking behind her big square glasses, Corbie licked some crumbs from her lip before replying, “Mommy wants alone time with Daddy. Go away, cute little Bugaboo-Bump.”
Pinkie Pie began giggling like a demented chipmunk prepared to go out in a blaze of glory whilst in the middle of a sugar high. Seville chewed his sandwich with a neutral expression on his face, but there was something in his eye that revealed his mirth. Twilight’s frogs now had an icy slickness to them, and she could feel sweat tickling her dock as it dribbled through her creases.
“Corbie, darling, what makes you think I should kiss Seville?” Twilight somehow contained her terror, but was all too aware that every eye in the room was focused on her. Even Nuance. And Spike. Spike was the worst, somehow. As her mouth went dry, she lifted up her glass of iced jasmine green tea with lemon and honey.
“Seville sings silly songs about all of the places he wants to kiss you in the shower,” Corbie responded, and her innocent-spoken words destroyed Seville, who coughed, choked, and began to sputter. “I like to sneak into his quarters while he is showering so I can look at his stuff.”
“Is that so?” Twilight fought to keep her breathing steady, and she did not let her face betray her. Right now, at this moment, Twilight Sparkle was princessing as hard as she could to avoid the inevitable freak out.
“Sometimes, I take his photos of shiny stuff, like the new bell in Canterlot Circle.” Corbie sounded a little guilty, and she slumped down in her chair. “It was really pretty and I couldn’t help myself. Sorry. Shiny things just have to be taken and put into a safe place.”
“Hey, I understand that.” Spike nodded, but then before he could say anything else, he fell silent, and he began shaking with laughter.
“So, are you gonna kiss Seville? What about Pinkie Pie? I like watching grown ups kiss… it means the world is safe and good and I like when the world is safe and good and right now, my world isn’t feeling safe and good because all of the grown ups I like to watch kissing are gone and everything is scary and I really hope they are okay.”
“I’m sure they’re fine,” Twilight replied while Pinkie’s laughter filled her ears.
“Mommy is baffled by you liking Pinkie Pie, but she says it is good for you to be forced out of your comfort zone. What does that mean? Is that like pushing a bird out of the nest? Sometimes, Daddy, he shoves me out of the nest when I won’t budge, and I really hate it and so I crow at him and he crows back at me and then Mama Moon yells at us because we’re a distraction, but she’s no better because sometimes she hoots when she’s feeling her inner-bird and wow, can she hoot really, really loud.”
“I know.” Twilight took a deep breath and remembered the night she had been in touch with her own inner-bird, just before the return of the Winter Moon Festival all those years ago. Gosling was cawing, Celestia was trumpeting and honking, Luna was hooting, Cadance was making cooing noises… and then the most embarrassing sounds ever had come out of Twilight’s mouth when she had touched upon her inner-bird. It was just awful and the memory alone made Twilight cringe so hard that she worried about pulling a muscle someplace.
She had been cheated with her inner-bird.
“Rad, will you take a nap with me after lunch?” Corbie turned to look at her brother and gave him a pleading, hopeful smile.
“No.” Radiance’s response was a little gruff, but his expression was one of apologetic embarrassment.
“Why?” Corbie whined, and right away, her lower lip protruded as it began to tremble. “Is it because I’m gross? Do I smell again? Do I have stinky wingpits like Twilight? Are you mad at me? Do you not love me?”
“Hey!” Twilight cried, catching on to what was said.
“Fine, I’ll take a nap with you,” Radiance grumbled while his face turned pink and his ears drooped in surrender.
“Yay!” Corbie began to bounce up and down in her seat. “Naptime! Nesting time!”
“Wait, hold on, do I really have stinky wingpits?” Twilight, feeling just a little self-conscious, waited for an answer, but also feared what it might be.
“Well, yeah! I had my head underneath there, remember?” Corbie made a gookie-face and then began acting like she was going to spew while she kept her eyes crossed. “Smelled so bad I couldn’t stop crying!”