//------------------------------// // Pokes and Peaches // Story: Mistakes // by Inkyarn //------------------------------// A pair of bright blue eyes stared ahead, narrowed with concentration. The pony they belonged to let her face scrunch up. Her eye began to twitch as sweat broke her brow. With every passing second, those brilliantly blue eyes watered, their lids quaking with effort. The filly held her breath until her pale yellow cheeks began to go blue. Still, she stared on. Her brow furrowed, her ears pinned. Her neck strained as she fought to keep her eyes locked on her target. It sat mockingly before her, expression blank, eyes unblinking. The intensity was too much. She was going to keep over. She... She... She blinked. A great huff of air burst from her small chest and she collapsed to her side. The young filly kept rolling until her hooves struck out into the air in front of her. Her mane swirled about her head on the floor, waves of purple that crashed down on the smooth marble beneath her. She glanced up to find her opponent. A great pink doll. The filly flipped back over and frowned at the thing, kicking it with a hoof. "You always win, Poke." She humphed, sitting heavily on the floor. "Why not just blink and get it over with?" The barest hint of a smile flickered across her pale face. She leapt away, settling into a crouching stance. "Because I'm gonna win this one!" The intensity was high. The strain was terrible. Seconds ticked by into a full minute. Sweat broke her brow and she sank lower into her stance, eyes narrowing with effort. Another minute began to roll by and darkness suddenly fell across her vision. With her eyes still closed, she let out an exasperated groan and rolled over, hers flattening. "Come on, Poke!" She snatched the doll's paws, throwing it into the air to land atop her soft yellow belly. She snorted and sat up, shoving the plaything away and looking about the room. It was a nice room, as bedrooms go. There was a large bed with soft pink drapes hung lightly around it. Its rich purple comforter was strewn about, its pillows askew. In fact, everything in the room was much the same. A desk in the corner was cluttered and lopsided. Its papers and pens were scattered all around the corner, a few making their way almost to where the filly sat. She was in a large open space. It was clustered and by all accounts messy. Old toys and broken things lay everywhere, unused and unwanted. The room itself was disheveled and off-kilter. All of the furniture was made of deep, polished wood. Dark surfaces, shining in the sunlight and almost glittering. The filly's reflection peered back at her. There were also soft leather chairs and plushy, soft couches. This made up the sitting room, just before the front door. It was a few paces from the edge of the play area, where she sat now. The light wooden floor became creamy, beautiful marble. Despite its many years-worth of scuffs and scratches, it hardly looked any worse. This section lacked furniture, despite a beautiful marble counter space where she ate her foods and a hand-carved treasure chest of toys. After the toy room, the marble floors became a soft magenta carpet. The bed adorned the wall, with tall oak nightstands beside it. There was a hope chest at the foot of the bed, but its lid had long since broken off, revealing an empty hat box and more broken toys. The desk was on the opposite wall. It had collected a fine layer of dust in its days of neglect, as the filly had quickly grown tired of its usefulness, preferring to draw and write in the comfort of the play area. Oddly enough, however, the room was bare of decorations. There were no statues, rugs, or even paintings on the walls. The furniture was all the appeal the room had. While there were toys, none of them could be considered decorous. The only one still in-tact was the lumbering pink creature that sat before the filly now. The tall white walls were utterly bare. One showed signs of having recently been painted, with faint lines of random colors peeking through. Buckets of colors and paints were resting on the floor beside it, but all of them were sealed. Opposite the bed, the wall opened into three tall, wide windows. Their view of the city below was distorted by the glass but the sky was clear and bright. The light that streamed in was always golden and warm, giving the room an almost lively feel to it. The filly frowned to herself, moving into a long stretch. She yawned widely and shook out her soft purple mane, standing and dragging her doll to the sitting room. Beside the door, in a corner, was a small television. Her horn lit up, dragging a remote control toward her. The tv flicked on with a small thumping noise and colors brightened across the screen. Brightly colored creatures danced across the glass surface, spraying jets of water or emitting more colors from their foreheads. One orange lizard let loose a gout of flame, frying an odd tall beast until its furless skin was black. The filly watched these antics, her mouth a thin line. Her ears lowered slightly and she pressed a button. The image flipped and a similar hairless monster stomped about on screen, its voice whining and shrieking words that made no sense to the filly watching. She made a face, glancing at her pink companion. The monsters continued stomping about and the filly sighed, dropping her chin into her hoof. The jumble of half-Equestrian words continued to flow from the speakers. Finally, she was forced to mute the thing. "What a stupid show." She rolled over on the couch, sliding down onto the floor until just her back hooves still rested on the cushion. One monster babbled to the other, tossing its hands in extravagant gestures. "I wanted a pineapple," The filly pitched her voice higher. "It had to be in this exact shape!" The beast rounded its hands, making a strange curvy shape in the air. "You gave me a peach. I didn't want a peach. I wanted a pineapple!" It stomped a foot. Another beast shook its head and the filly dropped her voice low. "I couldn't find a pineapple this shape." The second monster made a similar gesture. "I found one this shaped, but there was a sponge inside it." "I hate sponges," The other one huffed. "That's why you don't have a pineapple." "I hate peaches." "Maybe if you didn't hate sponges, you would have a pineapple." "But peaches are gross and sticky and blegh!" The beast shuddered at the very thought. "You don't have to hate my peaches..." The monster began to whimper. There was a sudden knock at the filly's door and she gave a start, flipping over and dragging the pink creature with her. She galloped for the door, sliding across the wood and throwing it open to a startled white servant pony. On his back, he carried a tray with a silver lid on it. His expression instantly steeled and he raised his chin, stepping inside with an air of brave authority. The filly watched him hungrily, mouth beginning to water. Or, rather, she watched the tray. The stallion cleared his throat and slid the tray onto the short marble counter. "Dinner, my princess Erroria." He gave a small bow as the filly approached the counter. She jumped into the seat, glanced at the lid for half a second, then tore it off the tray, leaving the food beneath it behind. "Silver!" The clamped her teeth on the edge of the lid and chomped down. There was a horrible crunching noise and the sound of tearing metal. The butler looked on in horror as Erroria's horn lit up and she chewed the metal as though it was no more than a bite of lettuce. "Oh Butty, how did you know silver was my favorite?" She grinned at the stunned stallion, a flake of metal poking out from between her teeth. The butler frowned, a bead of sweat breaking his pristine white brow. After a deep breath, he pulled the lid from Erroria's grasp, nodding toward the plate of food. He cleared his throat, unsure of how to proceed. "A patch of hay on slightly toasted baked bread, with cinnamon buns and peach preserves on the sides, my princess." He gave a slight bow, eyes flicking from the filly to the food. When she did not move, he straightened, taking half a step back. Erroria stared at him for a long minute, her face expressionless but her eyes intense and focused. She observed him with the kind of determination one would watch a puzzle. Concentration masked her face until the butler took another step back. His impassive face broke into a wide frown, his ears falling dramatically. Another bead of sweat rolled down and he blinked. "Finally!" Erorria leapt into the air, wings fluttering with a faint buzzing noise. She flitted about the room at top speed, crashing into the butler and sending them both tumbling to the floor. She hugged him tightly around his neck, wings continuing to buzz. "I've been waiting for years to beat somepony at this game!" Her voice was high, her muzzle scrunching up with a brimming smile. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She nuzzled his hard and then skipped away, whisking her silver lid off the floor and taking another bite. A harsh scraping, grinding sound came from her chewing as she hopped up onto her chair and observed the dinner laid out for her. It continued to steam. The butler stood, dusting himself off before retrieving the lid. "Princess, you-" He turned to the faint yellow pegasus sitting at the chair. "Princess Erroria?" A drop of cold panic shot through him and he raced around to her side, eyes widening at the sight. The pegasus turned to smile at him, small flakes of silver protruding from her teeth. "You really went all out with this one, Butty." She squeaked, turning back to the food. "This all looks delicious. Even better than the silver!" She grinned playfully, shifting her gaze to the small bowl of peaches. A low hum of concentration rumbled from within her as her face screwed up. Finally, with a small huff, she put a hoof to her head. "Oh, I've lost my horn. Darn it! I had so many uses left for that thing." She caught the butler's eye and pursed her lips, giving him a small glare. "Quit staring, it'll come back tomorrow." He gave a start, stumbling back and giving a hasty bow. "Yes, princess. Sorry princess!" He snatched the lid and bolted for the door. Erroria watched him go, sighing shallowly. "I liked the last Butty better." As he reached the door, she gave a short whinny. "If you're back tomorrow, call me Alula." Without another word, the butler nodded and slammed the door shut, the heavy deadbolt sliding into place behind him. Once again, princess Erroria, Alula, was alone. She gave a snort and scooped up a hoof-full of peaches. A single one entered her mouth before she shot away from the food, coughing and spluttering and spitting across the floor. "Yuck, I hate peaches!"