//------------------------------// // Chapter One: Luna Lucid Mode // Story: A Foal in Sane // by Adorned ungulate //------------------------------// Evening in Ponyville is sneaky. Night slips in like an uninvited socially awkward party guest. I guess it’s a reflection of Luna’s continuing search for self-acceptance. I give her tips sometimes on her visits but I imagine she’ll still feel tense in crowds when my foals have foals of their own. Times like these when I’m coming in from my last delivery I love to admire her work. I find a spot with a nice view and watch the orange rays sink down and the stars appear, big planets first. I look over at the silhouette of the highest tower in Canterlot Castle, knowing ol’Big Midnight is there causing all this. Blessings to you, Luna. Dad calls this time of evening the gloaming and I call him a pretentious pseudo-intellectual and we laugh. I enjoy a little quiet and self-reflection every now and then, privately lest it ruin my adrenaline junkie reputation. Seeing the moon rise is refreshing for reasons I am not poetic enough to express. Plus it reminds me that somepony is always looking out for me. There's wood smoke and pollen scenting the air. The ambient light dims my surroundings all at once. Nighttime wildlife venture out. Nice. I'd better get going, though. I wanna get out of this uniform. Let my scooter off idle, kick off, wings are going and I'm on my way. I don't dare travel at my preferred speed in my cargo scooter. It's too much of a tank. But I push it as far as I can. Hoof traffic is light but I manage a few dirty looks anyhow. Swing around Town Hall, shortcut through Rue des Amis and I'm there, Filthy Rich's Barnyard Bargains. Why do I work here again? Yah, they were my biggest clients anyhow. I park by the freight entrance next to my usual ride. I don't bother to lock up my scooters. No pony would dare touch them. Snips tried riding one once for a laugh and ended up with more bruises than just hitting a lamp pole would necessitate. Pass by shelves of merchandise towards the administrative offices. I've got to steel myself for the last unpleasantness of my workday. I take today's delivery fees out of my bags and plunk the bag of bits down on the secretary's desk. "Here ya go." I'm already turning to leave. No need to stretch this out. "Thank you. I'll have your wages ready tomorrow as usual, Scootaloo." Ugh, that prissy polite voice. I can almost sense the venom underneath. She probably didn’t even bother looking over the lavender frames of her glasses What I find most off-putting is her insistence on wearing clothes all the time. Today it's a tangerine colored sundress. No offense to Rarity but it seems like putting on airs. She still rocks the thick braid and just styles her bangs differently ever so often. "Yeah, okay Silver. Night." I dreamt of getting away from the likes of her every day when I was a filly and now I have to deal with her on a regular basis. It would be less confusing in a way if she was her old antagonistic self but ever since he started working here a few months back she's been suspiciously polite. It makes me wary, like she's working up to something. I could be totally independent, buy my own telephone and telegraph. Not like they're terribly rare in Ponyville. I could hire my own Silver Spoon. But I'd ride away with less bits. Barnyard Bargains handles all the boring stuff. At my locker I hang up my pillbox hat and give my jacket a sniff; haven't pitted it out enough to warrant laundering. At first I wore the one we found when trying to get Apple Bloom out of Family Application Day. This one is several sizes larger. I managed to convince Miss Rarity not to make it too fancy. Slap my helmet on and get back to my usual ride. Soon I'm speeding through the streets of Ponyville. Shops are closing up. Bonbon is closing the shutters at Sweet Drops Confections, Twist is probably inside sweeping up. Lamps are lighting up and there is a pleasant orange glow all around. I hang a sharp left spraying the side of Legal Advice and Marital Aids with gravel. Sorry for the mess (actually I'm not sorry in the least). It's a straight shot home now. I park and make my way inside. Dad is on the couch in front of his writing desk, likely penning a letter to his marefriend. They've kept up the long-distance thing all these years. It's kinda cute. He primly sets his quill down in the inkwell. "Hey, honey bunch." "Evening, dad." "I made a Cobb salad and hay fries. Help yourself." "Thanks!" He doesn't ask me about my day figuring if I had something to share I'd tell him. We've been living on our own since I was a kid and have learned to respect each others privacy. I quickly refuel then go up to my room to get my guitar. "Dad, I think I'll go up to Sweet Apple Acres. Don't wait up for me, k?" He smiles. His cinnamon coat had dulled a bit with age and he's getting laugh lines. "That's fine, dear. Could you put this in the mail on the way out?" I sigh dramatically. "If I must! Love ya." He gives me a nuzzle and I head back out into the night air. I take a break from practicing to take a long pull of my bottle of cider. A.B. is above me at the top of a latter fixing up an apple brandy still. From the oaths she's been muttering it's been a stubborn task. “Scoots, could ya kindly toss me up a three-eighths socket?” I set my instrument down and root around in her toolbox for the right doohickey. With a whip of my head I toss it up to her. I hear her teeth close in around it and muffled thanks. After a while more she addresses me. “Somethin’ botherin’ you, Scoots?” “Why do you say that?” “Yer playing ‘Dad Music’ again.” I groan and hoofpalm. He would be so giddy if he knew the mopey college colt tunes he endlessly subjected me to had taken a hold in my psyche all according to his plan. “Yeah, I guess you could say I’ve been feeling a little out of sorts lately.” “You wanna talk about it?” I sigh and reach for a fresh bottle myself. “I just feel so pent up at times. Like, what am I doing, working for Diamond Tiara’s dad? It’s like I’m wasting my time running everyone else’s errands and in a round-about way putting bits in the pocket of the pony I hate the most. It’s not what I wanted to do with my life.” A.B. grins and cuffs me on the shoulder. “You probably just feel restless because it’s not racing season. Just you wait until we get the Mockingbird Mark III up and rolling. You’ll be streaking so fast past Blithe you’ll likely spin her around in circles!” I looked over to where my racing scooter’s new experimental engine hung down from chains attached to the rafters. Yeah, sure I would feel better once the racing circuit got going again. I always have. Funny, sometimes Apple Bloom is more obsessed with team Sweet Apple Engineering beating our most persistent rivals than I am. Maybe it’s a family feud with Blithe’s kin. “Getting into the winner’s circle would sure as sugar cheer me up, A.B. but I think it is more than just off-season itch.” “You should go out on a date, then. You always are in a better mood when you’ve got some colt or filly between yer legs, makin’ ya grunt.” I toss a bolt up at her flank. “Pssht, that’s just what I need, complications to my love life! I refuse to let you vicariously enjoy romantic drama, you vestal virgin.” With a squeak Apple Bloom slides down the ladder, slips off her engineer’s cap and shakes out her cherry red braids. She nixed the big pink bow years ago after she got caught in machinery and had to holler for Big Mackintosh to cut her loose. My friend sits down next to me and opens up a cider of her own. “Just because ah’m waitin’ for the right stallion to come along doesn’t make me some prude so don’t give me that. Are you feelin’ blue since you haven’t achieved as much as y’like?” I shrug. “Maybe, Rainbow was captain of the weather team when she was just a bit older than I am now.” “Success don’t come without a lot of honest sweat and close planning. Look at me. I haven’t had any orders further afield than Hoofington not counting Apple family favors. Ah try not to let that get me down in the dumps though Celestia knows I dream of more.” “Yeah thanks, A.B. I’ll try not to let it run my night.” My emotions still swirled around stubbornly. I just didn’t want to go further into it. She’s a real good friend to me but her blunt optimism (and occasional thudding depression) just sends us around in circles when I try to confide my feelings with her and I didn’t have the energy to get into that tonight. Instead we drank liberally and engaged in our usual gossip. Not my favorite pastime but I do it for Apple Bloom. She gets cooked up in on the farm either running Sweet Apple Engineering or helping out with farm work while I go anywhere and everywhere and can relate all the goings on. We chat. I tell her how Rumble failed his weather team entrance tests, again, much to Thunderlane’s consternation. Also Pipsqueak’s latest hijinks and how he again charmed his way out of consequences. Oh, and Twist and Snips had their semi-regular explosive argument in the marketplace. It seemed to be their favorite pastime. I soldier on for a bit but the cider takes its toll and I let out a yawn. “I’m getting kinda sleepy, A.B. Mind if I crash here in the loft? I don’t want to drive into a ditch on the way home.” “S’fine with me, Scootaloo. I should hit the hey myself or I’m likely to be ornery in the morning.” Pretty soon we have the place tidied up. My friend gives me a hug. “Good night, dodo. See you tomorrow.” “Pfft. Goodnight yourself, loopdy hoop head.” She trots off and I grab a firefly lantern and fly up to the loft. It’s a bit high but not beyond my ability. I’m about to settle in when something on the wall catches my eye. It’s words chiseled into the beams, probably a remnant of slumber parties past. Beyond the names of various fillyhood crushes there are things like “CMC 4 EVER” and “RAINBOW DASH RULEZ”. I chuckle to myself as I run a hoof across the crude handiwork. I just can’t force myself any further. Curl up for some shuteye. All I see is white light. I’ve got to squint against it. Okay, starting to make out some detail: a huge oak table, tiny teacups, big girly kettle. Oh, no. I know where I am now. Our old clubhouse is a familiar enough place though it isn’t cluttered with blueprints and drafting tools like it is these days. Looks like it did when we were foals. All the angles are wrong though, the geometry doesn’t make sense. It’s all looming and imposing. I touch my throat and sure enough my crusader cape is tied around it. Ah well, might as well make the most of this and pour myself a drink. “Strange…” A booming voice reverberates off the walls originating in a wisp of darkness coalescing at the opposite end of the table. “The setting is cheerful enough, though this is a nightmare unmistakably.” “Hey, Luna. Good to see you. Tea?” I’ve found it makes the princess more comfortable if you behave casually. She is nearly completely here now, as large as she was when I was young. Though her royal finery have been exchanged for her own red cape and an admiral’s hat made out of an issue of The Foal Free Press sits atop her billowing star-strewn mane. “Well met, little Scootaloo. Could you explain why you dreamt of this place?” She daintily sipped as she studies our surroundings. “I guess I’m worried I’m stuck in some kind of a rut. It’s been years since the Cutie Mark Crusade ended but I’m still here in Ponyville spinning my wheels.” “You fear stagnation. This place that once gave you such comfort and aspiration now becomes a trap?” I just shrug, too abstract an idea for my speed. Luna won’t let me off the hook. “How have you changed from your time then,” she gestures around the room. “to the pony you are now?” “Well, I didn’t have my cutie mark back then.” “You were crusading for it back then.” “Yeah but I got it, didn’t I?” I look down at the birdie on my flank. I think back to my dreams the night I earned it, how I cried into Luna’s mane as she stroked my back and then rearranged the stars into the image of a thrush to cheer me up. “You were questing for it back then… It wasn’t coincidence that I found my way into your dreams, Scootaloo. I had my eye on you before then. You are a special breed; I’ve known many ponies like you, passionate dreamer. Pity those who get what they quest for because they fall into complacency and despair.” “Hey I wasn’t the only one! There were three of us, and Sweetie and Apple Bloom are doing just fine.” “Let us consider your friends for a moment.” Luna gestures to a crayon drawing on the wall and a crudely-drawn Apple Bloom starts frantically prancing around on the page. “Take for instance your self-styled leader. She too wanted her destiny so badly and wanted it immediately. But she cared not what form her mark would take. She inspired you all to search so frantically as she ignored her natural leadership skills, shrewd deal making sense, and mechanical talents.” The image freezes in place and instead Sweetie Belle stirs and looks like she is trying to hide behind her own tail. “And the peacemaker, did you know she didn’t really want her cutie mark par se? She merely wanted to fit in, not have her flank draw attention to herself, to not be bullied?” “I didn’t know that…” “She hid from her special talent, in fact, because it required her to be the center of attention. She only received it when she became comfortable displaying her wonderful voice.” The princess turns her sad, ancient eyes on me again. I’ll never quite get used to those big aqua orbs. “But you, Scootaloo. You knew what you wanted so dearly.” Can’t keep eye contact. “I wanted to be just like Rainbow Dash. But I couldn’t. I’d never even make it on the weather team much less do the things she’s done. Is that what’s bothering me?” She sits back, towering above me. “One needs not a fancy necklace to embody loyalty. Are thee not loyal to your friends, and your hometown?” “I guess.” “You may not have her flight ability, but did you not work hard as any Wonderbolt to get where you are? Are you not the best at what you can do?” I looked over at the crayon version of me leaping happily around a drawing of Rainbow Dash. “I don’t get what you’re telling me.” “You need to make new goals for yourself, lest you keep finding yourself in here. Focus on your life right now and look for opportunities for greatness. Always strive for something. It’s in your nature. You shan’t be happy lacking grand aspriations.” “I’ll have to give this some thought. Thanks, princess.” Around us the walls are fading back into bright mist. “Ah, our time grows short. Fare thee well, dear Scootaloo.” “Catch you later, Black Snooty… Oh! Say hi to Archer for me.” She smiles warmly, almost sisterly. I shall pass on your regards, fare thee well!” Everything goes all bright and swirly. Suddenly I’m cold and have the last remnants of cider intoxication fuzzing up my mind. Next time I do this I should ask A.B. for a blanket, I forgot how cold it gets up here. Might as well start my day. If I leave now I can have a nice one-sided conversation with Big Mac as he watches the sunrise. Big stretch! I shall give some thought to what Luna told me. But not just yet.