//------------------------------//
// What is Comfort Gore? 
// Story: Poison Pills and Comfort Gore 
// by Mockingbirb 
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At first the dream didn't seem very strange, just unpleasant. But partway in, it took an odd turn.

Dark Meadows was pummeling a changeling in the face. No matter how hard she struck, with forehoof or with both hind hooves, no matter how superficially satisfying the smacks and thuds seemed at first...the changeling refused to fall down. Even when Dark Meadows picked up a big, jagged rock with both her forehooves, and bashed the changeling again and again, it seemed to do almost nothing. The scrapes in the changeling's carapace were shallow, refused to bleed, and healed up in only a moment or two.

Nothing Dark Meadows did seemed to matter.

A large rock flung from somewhere struck the changeling's head. The changeling staggered. A commanding alto voice said, "Turn into a dead changeling!" 

The changeling fell to the ground. Its now limp body seemed to soften and melt just slightly, leaking blood and other bodily fluids onto the ground. 

A midnight blue alicorn approached, carrying another rock with her horn's magic. She flung the rock down so forcefully that it penetrated deep into the changeling's body, splashing blood and guts all around.

"Sorry about the mess," the alicorn said. "I simply think it is more comforting this way.  It is better to be sure."

Dark Meadows laughed bitterly. "Better it than me."

"Yes," the alicorn agreed. "So how are you this fine night?"

"I suppose you must be Nightmare Moon," the filly said.

"We have been that," the alicorn agreed. "But now We prefer to be called Princess Luna. Or on this night, just Luna is fine. Dreams are often less formal than the waking world."

"I'd rather call you Nightmare Moon," the filly insisted. "If I call you something that sounds nicer and sweeter, I might only fool myself, and be disappointed."

Luna squatted on all four legs, somewhat as a resting cat might. "We see," she said. "Have you...I mean, hast thou found thyself disappointed before?"

Meadows snorted. "Only practically every day of my life that I expected something good."

"We are sorry to hear that, little one."

Even though this was a dream, Meadows' explosion was only metaphorical. "Stop talking down to me! Don't call me little one! Don't say you're sorry. Grownups are never sorry, not all the way, not really. They always have their reasons. And their reasons are always good enough...for THEM."

"We would like to say We understand, but that is only partly true," Luna admitted. "But--would thou like to have someone to complain to tonight? We are very good at listening to complaints. We have thousands of years of practice, both listening and complaining."

Meadows admitted, "I suppose Nightmare Moon WOULD have some practice complaining. But you didn't just complain. You DID SOMETHING. Can you teach me how to do something?"

Luna's large, dark eyes gazed at the filly. Countless stallions would have given...something, to have such a beautiful mare look at them with such full, deep attention. "What wouldst thou learn to do?"

Meadows scoffed, "You can't help me. You can't even talk right."

"We admit, We are very old. We first learned to speak before the Old Ponish language even existed." Luna winked. "Thou should be glad, that thou can even understand us at all."

Meadows snorted skeptically.

"Perhaps thou canst do something for me," Luna said. "Art thou the pony named D. Meadows who lives at 1352 Acorn Street, in Ponyville?"

"How should I know?" Meadows said angrily.

Luna blinked. "Thou...dost not know?"

"My parents move us around so often, why should I even bother to learn my own address?" Meadows complained. "I think my daddy should get into a different line of work. Something that doesn't make you move to a different town so often."

Luna said, "We know it can be hard for a filly to have to move away from her friends, and make new ones. Have you tried gently talking to him about this?"

"It wouldn't do any good. Momma doesn't trust him to live in one place for very long. She says if he had time enough, he would get to know the local mares too well, and he would get into trouble. Again."

Luna blinked again. "We...see. Do you know what she means?"

"I don't need to know. All I need to understand is, grownups always have their reasons. They say they're sorry and they don't really mean it. Like I told you." Meadows huffed. "Grownups are stupid. And why are you asking me all these questions? Are you one of those mares that would get my daddy into trouble?"

The corners of Luna's mouth quirked up slightly. "We assure you, We believe we are above such an unseemly dalliance. We DO have standards for Our behavior. Getting thy father into trouble, as thy mother calls it, would be quite outside them."

"Sure," Meadows said sarcastically. "And grownups are always trustworthy, and never lie." She straightened her shoulders. "I think you ARE one of those mares who wants to get my daddy into trouble. Everypony knows Nightmare Moon was bad. Sometimes grownups say they're going to be better ponies from now on, but it never lasts for long. And you're asking so many nosy questions." The mare opened her mouth wide, and screamed so loud that it reached even into the world outside her dream.

"Little filly--"

The dream world vanished. Dark Meadows was back in her little bed, in her little bedroom. The door slammed open against the wall, and her mother came into the room, looming like a large dark shadow backlit by the living room lights behind her.

***

In Canterlot, Twilight Sparkle jerked awake. She was in a large soft bed in the royal palace. On the other side of the room, Luna sat in a comfy chair, reading a book. Luna set the book down on an end table.

"How did it go?" Luna asked.

Twilight rubbed her head with her forehooves. "How can a filly's scream make my head hurt so much, when she's so many miles away that I can't really hear her?"

Luna chuckled. "Your mistake is to imagine that the dream world is any less real than the waking. Each is real in its own way. They are simply different." Luna took a deep breath. "Are you still masquerading as me? It might be easier for you, if you simply appeared as yourself." Luna snorted. "It can be difficult to be me, sometimes. Take it from somepony who knows."

Twilight sighed. "But YOU'RE the pony they're expecting, or hoping for. YOU'RE the pony they believe can help them. Usually. But in other ways, I guess trying to be you does add another layer of difficulty. Always making sure to look like somepony I'm not. And that crazy way you talk...or how most ponies still expect you to talk. Is it Late Middle Ponish, or Early Modern Ponish?"

Luna laughed. "It was a personal, one-pony dialect, of a pony who until quite recently had only ever spoken aloud in the languages of a thousand years ago and earlier, but who yearned to be understood in the present day. And each day my manner of speech changed just a little, as I learned more about modern ways." 

Luna smiled warmly. "I suppose if there was a textbook, my clever Twilight, you could learn it in a week. But take the easy route. Simply avoid contractions, and it will be good enough. Most ponies are not linguists anyway, and will be grateful for your help as they struggle with their worst nightmares. Whether they believe you to be me, or your own honest self."

Twilight said, "I'm not sure that's even the main problem. I thought I'd finally learned the trick of finding one specific pony among all the millions of dreamers. So I asked the filly, are you the pony with this name at this address. And she said, I quote, how should I know?"

Luna laughed. "The filly said she didn't know her own name? Was she in a hospital for amnesiacs?"

Twilight admitted, "I'm not sure. I don't think she really wanted to answer my questions."

"I'm not all that surprised. Maybe you should go back to the way your teacher does it." Luna tapped her own chest. "If you walk the dream world without a specific goal or target in mind, and learn to sense when and where somepony's heart cries out for your help...those ponies are usually easier to deal with. And they truly need help, Twilight. THAT I can promise you."

"I don't doubt you," Twilight said. "But on the other end of things there are also specific ponies in desperate trouble, who I would like to talk to without anypony seeing or getting tipped off. Like, I have all these records from that drug dealing ring the Equestrian Guard broke up. So many clues to ponies who need help. Look at this one." Twilight picked up a slip of paper and waved it at Luna. "What kind of pony even TRIES to buy cyanide pills by mail?"

Luna nodded. "Somepony who is in trouble, I'm sure. Whether they want to poison themselves or poison others, they are surely in need of good counsel to help them avoid a terrible mistake." Luna sighed. "I do not doubt your motives, nor your goals. I only doubt that you have chosen the right path to the destination of reaching as many ponies as you can who need help." Luna shrugged. "But my years of dreamwalking work have not ended. And every student must search for her own ways of learning, and sometimes, of discovering."

Twilight sat up. "I don't know if I'll ever get my new...targeted dreamwalking to work right. Especially with ponies I don't even know. I think I'll try it the easy way for the rest of the night. Or maybe just get some regular old sleep. I could use some of that."

"Sweet dreams, Twilight."

"Thank you, my dear moon princess. Good night." Twilight lay back down, and closed her eyes.