You idly watch a bit of mid-afternoon Equestrian television, half-heartedly paying attention to the cheery ads. Then something new comes on. It is preceded by the insignia of the Royal Sisters and the Ministry of Community Relations. That certainly draws the eye.
You see a cheery and bright day on the outskirts of Schwarzwald, a little town of Kleinpferd ponies closer to central Equestria than their region of origin. The camera pans in over a small two-story, a fixer-upper in the middle of being fixed. The exterior is a bit rough, with some evidence of cracks and small hints of warping. But there's a fresh coat of paint on everything, in many happy, bright colors. Wind chimes, in metal, glass, wood and stone, hang all around the house, tinkling, ringing, clattering, clacking as the breezes blow. The lawn is cut down to size, and is free of debris, though a full, professional grade, aerobatic course is set up, constructed from found materials and painted in the same cheery colors as the house.
The camera pans around again, to watch a light periwinkle unicorn mare, in a cape and wizard hat, doing magic. She is levitating various streamers while colorful lights pop behind her, seen to be small pebbles overloaded into creating colorful trails. She seems familiar, as if you've seen her before, maybe at a fair, or at some traveling show. A voice-over starts, probably her. The voice somehow seems to match.
“This is how I am most of the time during the day. Practice makes perfect after all. Oh certainly... the great and powerful Trrrrixie is perfect already. But it never hurts to be even MORE perfect. There's nothing odd about a unicorn practicing magic, is there?”
The mare turns quickly, in a flourish, her cape billowing out and a diaphanous ribbon marked with colorful images flowing under her tail, tied to it. Wait... that means she's a Roani. Or a Gypsy, to those that are especially old or not very enlightened. It at least marks the origin of the epithet “ribbontail.”
“I'm here, in my home, living my life. It's not like it used to be. I no longer roam free in a caravan. But there is a certain charm to a settled house. It's a lot like what the promises for my clan were like. Someday we would rest. And I have a wonderful place here. A house is just so big, and I can decorate it so wonderfully! Truly this is where the great and powerful Trixie belongs.”
She creates a blinding flash of golden light and smoke, and is gone! Or rather, can just be seen dashing off the screen. The camera moves across to catch her standing and smiling, looking as though she thought her little flash trick had worked out right. She takes a bow, cape billowing lightly.
Various props levitate out into view, flashing past the screen. Linking and unlinking rings, flower-sprouting wands, a newspaper cone with milk pouring into it. At the center of it all is the unicorn, her horn glowing brightly under her hat. She certainly seems to have a natural talent for it.
“So please, come and see a show. It will be DAZZLING. Like nothing else in Equestria. Count on it. No neiiiiiiighsayers need apply.”
The scene changes quickly, to something that looks like the inside of the average television studio. Trixie is sitting there, looking cool and casual. Across the bottom of the screen is a little blurb. Trixie Lulamoon, Magician/Entertainer. Trixie finally speaks for herself, looking just off from the camera like a pro. “My name is the great and powerful Trixie Lulamoon. I'm a magician of great skill, and I'm Roani.”
Before the PSA ends, a telephone number and address is put up at the bottom of the screen, along with the seal of the Ministry again.
- - -
It's later. The afternoon winds into early evening. The shows are nice, a good mix of comedy and drama. You're on a different channel than the one you had been watching. Naturally. It was the one with that great show. The commercials are on again. But as before, you see the Ministry seal and the royal seal.
The camera sweeps around a rather bustling and VERY nicely-decorated room. It's not really clear what it might be. A resort maybe. A fancy hotel. Some kind of mansion, though surely not the mere occupation of one rich family. There are travelers of all descriptions, walking behind luggage carts pulled by bellhops, and overseen by various other figures.
The camera swings through the lobby and along a path past many ponies and others, into a rather noisy space. A casino. The activity is brisk and the voices boisterous. All the normal games are in evidence. Indeed, while it lacks the pomp and pretension of a Las Pegasus casino, it appears fully-featured.
The focus of the lens comes around to focus on a unicorn mare passing along the tables, looking like she was overseeing everything. She is carnation in color, with a mane of orange and yellow, but tail of green and blue; she is wearing a nice outfit, a light purple blouse and matching skirt that covers her hindquarters, with a purple scarf tied around her head.
“It's all 'go' around here. Dawn to dusk. And that's only because I am not either princess. I need sleep now and then. It's still going on when I lie down with my husband, and waiting for me when we rise to face the day. Oh he helps. But I work as hard as him. Harder. I also must handle family matters.”
The mare is followed towards a quieter, private-looking area. As before, she wears a ribbon on her tail, outside of her dress. You see the camerapony pass between two stern-looking guards as the new room comes into view. It is a lounge, sparsely-populated, filled with octagonal tables with padded benches around them.
The fancy mare moves to the farthest table, which is raised over the others, though is of the exact same style. While the others are bare, this table has a bowl of candied nuts sitting in the center. She takes a seat and smiles into the camera.
“Of course, it's not all organizing and overseeing. That would burn me to a cinder, and in short order. I don't just take time off to sit and do nothing, of course. I keep working, but in a different capacity. Sometimes I hearken back to my old calling as a drabani, a fortune-teller.”
She takes a seat on the padded bench at the rear of the table, and takes out a deck of cards, which looks larger than a normal set, and also much taller. A few deft shuffles and she deals them out. You see the are not conventional at all. The pictures on them are ornate, rather than simple suited pips. There are also a few odd ones that are only images, like “The Fool” and “The Sun.”
The mare regards the cards and their positions, nodding her head as she takes it all in. After a short time she gives the camera a smile and taps one of the cards. The Wheel of Fortune. A golden wheel with a beautiful mare inside it.
“So do not be afraid, of myself OR my family. Come down to see us. Find your fortune in the casino, or learn your fortune from my cards. You will indeed be fortunate no matter what.”
The scene alters with a quick cut, back to the television studio, the mare sitting, calm and welcoming. She looks like the ideal image of a kind, sweet mare. Across the bottom of the screen is a blurb. Matron Aurelina LaRoulette, Casino Owner/Fortune-Teller/Roa Baro. Aurelina broadens her smile and says, “My name is Aurelina LaRoulette, matron of Chateau LaRoulette, and I am Roani.”
As before, the screen shows an address and phone number, together with the seal of the Ministry of Community Relations.
- - -
You're rather comfy now, in the late evening. That new show about the Diamond Dog nurse is very engaging. As has been the norm for the day, there comes a quick cut of official seals, and then the public service announcement begins in earnest.
There's something familiar about the setting of the latest PSA. It's hard to tell, really, because the camera is zipping and zooming around through what looks like a standard flight school course. Of course, it's more like a standard flight school course from Tartarus made of materials gathered from around various second-hoof shops.
A quick blur zips past the camera, a white-and-tawny flash. The figure zoomed around a few poles and through a series of rings, before finally ending up pausing with a spread of wings and a mighty screech. She was a bald eagle griffin hen, toned and very strong.
“It's not easy being me. Not just because I'm awesome, and a great flier, but because of what I am. Yea, yea, I'm totally an Egg Grabber. All you griffins know what that means. But naw, it's way more than that.”
The powerful griffin gives an acrobatic spin, a ribbon fluttering under tail, and marking her as a Roa. That seems wrong. Roa seem to be all ponies, mostly unicorns. A Roani griffin seems very odd and inexplicable. She zips away, the ribbon streaming behind her while she dodges around the poles again and through the rings. She takes a quick run around the course, streaking faster and faster, almost seeming to stretch out a bit in flight.
“I'm a Roa. Oh, what? You think I can't be because I'm a griffin? Well forget you! Dweebs. It's totally possible for anyone to be a Roa. My fiancee is one, and she taught me a lot. Enough to impress her family. That's the ticket.”
From the ground, a series of glowing projectiles streak up. The griffiness barely has to exert any effort at all to dodge them. She practically dances around them. That might even be the intent. They shoot up in an incandescent swarm, yet with a kind of pattern to them. They led the agile flier. Or perhaps something she did brought up the streaking colors. They acted in concert, as one. A symbiotic relationship.
The camera pans down to the ground. The source of the colorful streaks is seen to be... that unicorn from much earlier in the day. Trixie Lulamoon. It would explain how a griffin could be Roani. The unicorn's horn glows brightly, several stones levitating and then flying off, the stones glowing with the mana being pumped into them. She cheerfully provides an extra challenge for her fiancee and performing partner.
“They call it 'Roanipen', knowing about their culture and their language and all that stuff. Marrying one isn't good enough, but I'm doing that too. Beats the scrub out of what I had back in the Kingdom. The Roa love Egg Grabbers, and don't care what you are. I've got it made. Hot mare, great place, and a culture that actually wants me. Oh yea, life is sweet.”
Back in the studio, the griffiness is sitting down, proud and noble. Her head is slightly tilted up, her eagle eyes staring defiantly into the camera. She is either trying to intimidate those with prejudices against Roa, or perhaps even shooting defiance into the Griffin Kingdom for their stance on filly foolers. Across the bottom is her blurb. Gilda sen Electra O'Bald, Aerialist/Entertainer. “My name is Gilda sen Electra O'Bald, soon to be Lulamoon, and you'd better believe, I'm Roani.”
The ministry seal, phone number and address flash on the screen as the PSA ends.
- - -
The next day, on another channel, there's a short PSA. One of the smaller spots. It opens with the address and phone number, which stay on the screen.
Twilight Sparkle appears front and center in the same studio reserved for the ends of the other spots. She looks properly caring, looking into the camera in an awkward but sincere manner. Beneath her was the blurb, Twilight Sparkle-Pie, Researcher/Royal Scholar.
“Hello there. For centuries, during the banishment, Roa suffered persecution, derision and hate. They were hated for being Luna's chosen and her most loyal. Even after, when it was all a part of culture for them, they were still treated poorly, discriminated against, feared and lied about. They do not steal foals, they are not all criminals, and they are not plotting against Equestria. They are citizens, just as good as anyone else. They deserve your respect, not your scorn. So please, the next time you think of calling somepony a name like 'ribbontail' or 'gypsy', remember, they are just ponies like you. And words hurt. My name is Twilight Sparkle. And I am not Roani. But I care.”