Chapter 6- Confrontation
I dove to the side, rolling once I hit the ground to take cover behind the wrecked remains of the wall that once was. Another strike from the beast tore through just above my head, tearing chunks of wood and stone to scatter in the field behind me.
It was too damned close. I couldn't get a second to catch my breath, to even try so much as a single attack against it. If it wasn't so big, it might have been easier to deal with. But I mean really. I was expected to deal with something like this?
"Why won't you love me, little pony?" came the horrifically augmented childlike tones from the creature currently trying to rip me a new tailhole.
It stood almost fifty feet tall, its cuddly brown exterior unassuming and nonthreatening. Sometimes I just couldn't understand the nightmares.
Which was probably the reason why I was currently facing off against a giant teddy bear that continuously churned out phrases that tried to assure me that it 'only wanted to be friends' while it tried to smash me into a puddle of mush. I had pitched back into Slumberland right in the middle of a pleasant conversation with the short worded Long Coif (she had regaled me about one of her more adventurous sisters' travels, where she had apparently not only found a dragon twice her size, but proceeded to 'punch it in the snoot'), and almost immediately found myself drawn into combat against a rather idiotic nightmare.
It had attached itself to a foal somewhere near my body in the waking realm, apparently to boost its power against me as much as it could. As stated, idiotic. Its power would have been the same whether it had attached itself to the same foal, or another sleeping individual halfway across the planet. Regardless of how stupid said nightmare was, it still managed to screw me over something royally. I hadn't had time to shift my ego back to my original form, or even launch anything resembling a counterattack.
Again, I was running from an oversized teddybear. Hopefully the foal in question wasn't living in the town, or at very least wouldn't remember any of this upon waking up. This whole scenario was simply too embarrassing to even bear contemplating. 'Mummy, dats the guy who was fighting the teddy bear in my head!' I'd never live that down. It must remain buried forever.
"Where did you go, my little pony?" The grating, floaty tones of the walking talking oversized bedside topper filled the air around me.
Did it actually expect me to respond? The brainpower of some of the nightmares certainly left something to be desired. Instead of reciprocating its request, I instead concentrated on what I had to do to take it down.
I couldn't go back to my lacksidaisical approach of caging them away in a metaphorical box. That didn't work. From now on, I'd have to break them down, tear them into bloody chunks. Reduce them to nothingness, so that they wouldn't stick around to power up any more demonic parasites attached to moon goddesses.
"Pajama," I started softly, lifting my scepter to start up the charging process. I waited a couple of seconds, willing the remainder of the chant to come out as I wanted it to. These seconds however were wasted in vain, as my mind remained frustratingly blank on the subject. No matter how hard I concentrated, the only word I could remember of the chant was pajama. And Shazama. Anything past that point was an infuriating blank, echoing my inability to recall in the waking world.
"Shazama..." I ground out in a low whisper, irritated at my circumstances.
A dull glow lit in the tip of my scepter, a hopeful reminder that I could perhaps gather enough energy to sufficiently blast this Ruxpin reject in the face to kill it. Or at the very least disperse it until I could properly dispose of it at a later date.
"There you are...!" came the exalted tones of the creature, apparently noticing the brightened glow coming from my ministrations. "Give me a hug..."
I dove out of cover as the behemoth faceplanted itself down ontop of my previous cover, crushing the wall beneath its weight. I definitely would have been crushed as well from that impact, and there was no telling what would have happened to myself or my ego at this point if I was 'killed' even with my living body in the waking world.
Yes, I could have been worrying for nothing, simply reawakening in the waking world upon my 'death' with naught more than a lingering headache and the lasting embarrassment of having my plot handed to me by a manifestation that I could have kicked around Slumberland with the barest of efforts in my times of before.
On the opposite hoof, I had no idea the true extent of my departure from the dreaming realm, or how much I was still connected to it. I could very well play straight into a nightmares hands if I wasn't careful, ending up as nothing more than a passing meal.
"Pajama," I continued as I hobbled along, ducking behind another crumbling wall. As an afterthought while the energy stubbornly pooled slowly in the tip of my scepter, I reached my other hoof up to grab my key and thrust it outwards. The dream around me fought my control, invisible threads dancing tantalizingly out of reach. I piled on the blunt force through my key, twisting the dream as much as I could.
I wouldn't be able to deliberately overpower this stupid thing from the outset, but if I wore it down enough I could possibly get a hail mary past it once its hold on the dream around me weakened
With a deliberate twist, a swarm of creatures and beings sprang into existence around me.
"So maaaany friiiieeends," The demonic teddy bear drawled in surprise at the sudden appearance of so many entities around it, I think the nightmare was struggling to comprehend which one was me, despite none of them looking a whitt like myself.
I sent my creations their unspoken instructions, willing them onward to distract the nightmare while I continued to gather more power.
"Such is the Armstrong tradition!" chorused the large gaggle of bald, heavily muscular bipeds as they swarmed forward and proceeded to latch onto any free space of fur they could reach.
The nightmare watched on, momentarily stalled in its confusion. This quickly shifted to anger as the second group attacked its back. The multitude of serpentine attackers bit and tore at any exposed 'flesh'. I shivered at my recalled depiction of the xenomorphic race, their bodies covered in spikes and spines. Their strong, shark-like mouths ripped and savaged as they went, tearing out comparatively small tufts of cotton and felt. Their probing limbs carried them in a continuous wave, never stopping as they scurried back and forth over the nightmares heavy bulk.
The nonstop, insectoid clicking squeal of 'kekekekekekekeke' was probably tailored to destabilizing an opponent, but I wish I had remembered to leave that out as I was creating them. It was just a little bit too creepy.
“You not playing nice…” the bear grumbled, teetering backwards to land with an earth quaking *shumff* on its backside. More than a few armstrongs and zerglings were crushed in this maneuver, however there were still a fair amount left to regroup. I watched as they divided it's attention further, focusing on a single one of its legs as it tried to stand up.
“Pajama… Shazama…” I continued, hobbling on to try to get as much distance between myself and the teddy terror as I could. The light kept building in the tip of my scepter, but something was wrong. Even though the light continued to brighten, the power behind it… It felt weakened, fettered. It was leaking out, back into the dream before it could collect into anything more substantial…
“Come back, little friend… Don't you want to have a tea party?”
I stared back at the teddy for a scant second, unbelieving in what my eyes were convinced what was happening. The dream-sculpts had done a number on the nightmare, ripping gouges out of its flesh. Almost at random some cuts sported little more than cartoony rips with cotton spilling out, whereas other spilled forth bloody viscera. Almost all the dream-sculpts had either been stamped out of existence during my distraction, or had fallen apart due to my faltering concentration.
A few of each type still scampered about, trying their best to distract the nightmare as best they could. What was truly distracting however, was more for its benefit rather than my own. The dream-sculpts had managed to do quite a number on it. They had apparently managed to tear off its left arm, along with its left leg. Unfortunately, this had done little to stall it, instead seeming to have emboldened it by forcing it to grow completely new appendages.
Thick, greasy corded flesh piled out of its torn flesh, forming tentacles that swayed back and forth. A viscous black bile seeped from its skin, pooling on the ground beneath it.
It was time to go.
I turned tail and ran, unabashedly. I could hear it roaring behind me, before the troubling sounds of its footsteps started shaking the ground underneath me. I didn't dare to turn and look, but it was obviously quite faster than it used to be. Far faster than it freaking should be.
I stooped to my left, turning down a tunnel that had appeared from my insistence. As I scuttled down the darkened tube, the walls suddenly retreated, the space around me expanding. It had found the tunnel, and rather than being perturbed by the fact it was far too large to fit down it instead simply willed the tunnel into becoming larger.
This thing was really starting to piss me off.
I returned to my hurried chanting as halfway into my sixteenth gasping of ‘Shazama’ I was bodily hurled further down the tunnel. From a paw the size of an apple tree slamming into my backside, sure, but the results were all the same.
“No more running,” it drawled, the manic childishness gone from its speech.
“I quite agree,” I muttered, rolling onto my back and leveling my scepter in its direction. “Pajama!!!”
I released everything I had managed to store, hurriedly pulling on even more to fill the quickly emptying gap. It burst forth, slamming into the nightmare and throwing it backwards. The light from my scepter exploded, dancing around the edges of the tunnel as it drowned out all shadows in the area.
As quickly as it had come, the purifying light all too quickly ebbed, and died.
I was left gasping, a deep tiredness seeping into my bones. I couldn't remember the last time I felt like this, I could remember even thinking about feeling like this. It shouldn't have been so hard, it was never like this before, I just couldn't wrap my head around-
“...Is that all you got?”
I froze, my body shuddering with the effort it took to not simply turn and run as fast as I could. I wouldn't have gotten very far.
“When I first felt you,” it continued, slowly slinking back into visibility. I had managed to destroy a fair portion of its body, for better or worse. A hideous gathering of ropy flesh held what remained together, a sinister glowing eye all that remained of the teddies head. “I thought you would be more of a challenge. You were supposed to be something powerful. You were supposed to be a tasty meal…”
I abandoned my scepter, holding onto my key like it was the lifeline it truly was. I might be able to get out of this, I might be able to wrest enough of the dream away from the nightmare to be able to…
“You see? So quick to give in, so quick to despair,” it drawled, mistaking my intent on dropping my scepter. “I knew I was strong. Stronger than the others. Strong enough to beat you! Strong enough-”
A twist, and the dream was mine. I had to do this quickly, in one fell swoop.
“You sure like to hear yourself talk, don't you?” I remarked, a spot of light appearing in the depths of the tunnel behind the nightmare as a curious rumble started playing through the soil beneath us.
It started, it's one remaining eye curious as it gazed down at me. It couldn't believe I was still willing to fight back. That would be its undoing.
“What did you do? Are you so foolish to believe you can still win?” It laughed, a pulsating ripple moving through its bulk.
“Win? Nah, not enough juice.”
The rumbling grew steadier still, the light at the end of the tunnel growing larger with every passing second. With a quick whoosh of displaced air, a pair of gleaming tracks zoomed out of the darkness to pierce the ground beneath us, carrying onwards out of sight.
“What… is this?!??” It demanded, eye finally noticing the encroaching light.
“No third rail,” I remarked, kicking the one closest to me in irritation. I had been going for electric, but I guess steam would do just as well. “You're right in saying I'm not strong. Not now, anyways. Time was, I could tear you apart simply by blinking. Now… Yeah, I'm slightly less than I used to be,” I admitted, distracting it as the unseen rumbling grew louder still. A sharp shrill of a whistle broke the air around us, echoing harshly against the walls and driving the nightmare to whatever it might still have to be considered knees.
“So, instead of a win-”
“You cannot win!”
“Yeah, duh. I know that. But did you know what it feels like to be hit by a train going over eighty miles per hour?”
It's eyes goggled, slowly glancing over to gaze at the light, growing brighter by the second, before flashing back to look at me.
“Hope you appreciate the life experience I'm giving you,” I quipped, loosening my muscles and preparing to go boneless, “Guess I'll be seeing you around. Choo-choo, mother buc-”
The train slammed into us at full speed, pain blossoming in my… well, everything. I was incoherent, mindlessly turning through the air as my broken limbs transmitted their discomfort to me. I felt blood pool in my lungs, my bones shattered through the remains of my torn muscles.
And then I woke up.
“Have a nice nap did we? Yes,” tutted the familiar tones of Long Coif.
I was resting on my side, on what looked to be a thin waiting couch. A common thing, it was well worn with its upholstery fraying near the edges. The faded yellow cloth browned near the corners, further telling of its true age.
“Did we move?” I asked, looking around. “I distinctly remember your walls being blue…”
My comment got a deep laugh from the crotchety old mare, as well as the poorly named thunder cat. What I didn't expect, was for their laughter to be joined by yet another's piercing chortles.
Peering upwards -and stealthily wiping away the drool that had crusted itself to the underside of my chin- I glanced into the eyes of another mare. Glanced. Then continued looking around, while inspecting her appearance in my periphery. Isn't polite to stare, after all.
She was middle aged, not yet elderly but certainly free of the ‘youth’ state of life. Her eyes crinkled as if in an unheard joke, the corners of her mouth creased into a slim smile. She wore a dress, elaborate and beyond my abilities to possibly describe or replicate. It was certainly more intricate than anything necessary for the surroundings.
Looking around let me see several dummy's, each adorned with various clothing. An inordinate amount of cowboy hats peppered the walls, although they warred with scarves and shawls for distinction of ‘the most plentiful’. I was in a clothes shop. Lacy umbrellas and all.
“Blue? That wouldn't do at all, no no no! All the colours would end up looking washed out, and the light would look completely different from inside to outside! No, a good deep yellow is tantamount. Can't have anything taking ones attention away from their acoutromount, could we?”
I did stare at her for a few seconds after that, trying to recollect my senses. She was certainly… passionate.
“Oh, where are my manners? My name is Strange. Strange Sweetness. Welcome to my shop little guy,” she greeted, gently patting me on the head as if I was some sort of dog.
“Uhmmm,” I stalled, “...it's a pleasure?”
My comment got another giggle, and a nod of her head.
“So… Not to say I'm not finding our current location to be a pleasant one, but what exactly are we doing here?” I asked.
“You were snorin’ so peacefully I couldn't bear to wake ya’,” Crab Apple admitted, “And while watchin’ you sleep might be the tippy top o’ some mares to-do lists, I like spending my time with more stimulatin’ company.” With this she gave a short jerk of her head towards the aforementioned Strange Sweetness.
“Your grandma told me-” I gave Crab an amused glance. She didn't seem too surprised about Stranges ‘mistake’, certainly not enough to speak out and correct her, “-that you were looking for a way to hide these beautiful wings of yours,” she paused, giving the one on my left a delicate stroke.
She gave a snear off to my left, prompting me to look at my apparently discarded saddlebags. They didn't look that bad, did they?
“One could better cover themselves with bogmud than with that ratty old thing,” she muttered, sending an apologetic glance to Crabapple. Crabby didn't seem to notice. Or at least she pretended not to… “Saddlebags are not fashionable. Definitely not day to day wear! Crab wanted me to just spruce up those old things, but I could not!” She crowed, a dangerous look dancing in her eye. “It would be a crime. A crime, I tell you! No, I had to find you something fashionable, yet functional all in the same breath. An evening coat wouldn't do, not in this climate. Neither would a raincoat! How foolish you would look, if I sent you out in such a yellow tinged monstrosity…”
“I thought yellow was good,” I joked, finding a lull in her monologue.
“For walls, mon cher!” she snapped, turning away. “For… duckie toys and curved fruit, certainly! But not a random coat, out here in the dust and cacti. Here it would be akin to wading around in galoshes! Bad form, at the worst!”
She took a couple seconds to wind down. I noticed that Long Coif had yet to talk this entire time, seeming content to sip from a mug of what I could only assume was tea.
“So, uhhh,” I started, trying to regain control over the conversation.
“Try on this!” she cut me off, flinging something over my head. I pawed at it, bringing it into eyesight. Seconds later I could hear her quietly groaning in irritation. “Mmmmmnnnnnnnnnn… No! Denim will simply not do. Not with the luster of your coat, it makes you look all washed out!” she declared, whisking the piece of fabric off of me before I could even properly assertion what it had been in the first place.
“Mmmm, no, too gaudy. … No no no, what is this a coastal town? … Pfff, what was I thinking? This is supposed to be for casual wear, not an evening soiree! … Ugh, rhinestones… they look so hideous but I need to move them… Oh goodness, that ones a dress… not to say you couldn't make it work, hon… No, too long in the collar. If I was trying to make you look like a turtle it might have been fine… Now how did this get back in here? I thought I burned you, you hideous affront to fashion!” she snarled, wadding up the most recent bundle of cloth and hurling it into a bin.
This continued for several minutes, ever to my dismay at the increasing bouts of stifled chuckling coming from the peanut gallery. I wasn't even given a chance to see what I was apparently trying on before each option was taken away. I had been at the political game for almost a thousand years, believe it or not I had learned how to coordinate my wardrobe.
“Oh yes, do go on…” she paused, for once letting me catch my breath before she threw another closet of clothing at my head.
My wings pressed down against my barrel, firmly yet not uncomfortably. Whatever she had managed to get on me seemed to fit pretty well, without any noticeable bulges.
“Ehn, not mah favorite colour,” spouted Crab Apple.
“Yes,” Strange agreed, cocking her head to the side. “Tan… almost brown is not the greatest choice for any ponies clothing, especially not in a dust bowl of a town like ours. Most ponies appreciate a little colour in their lives, something to spruce things up? Hmmm, but this!” She pointed suddenly at me, her face a rictus of declared victory, “This is contrast! This is a statement! Simple earthy tones at war with his very coat, tieing him to the ground in their embrace! There's just… something missing,” she trailed off, giving me a few seconds to inspect my… statement.
It was almost a plain brown coat, a duster if I could remember my terminology. It had a thickened mantle of cloth that draped down past my neck, almost reaching the floor. The tails of the coat came down behind me, and would most likely drag on the ground when I walked. For some reason, this didn't bother me all that much.
Something was lightly tugged down over my head, forcing me to gaze owlishly past the brim of whatever it was clouding my vision. Strange had a… strange look in her eye, almost quivering in place.
“Magnifique!” she declared, giving a sharp nod of distinct pleasure. Crab Apple gave a nod of her own, muttering-
“Ehn, ‘dun look horrible, I guess.”
“Oh please you old miser, you know he looks divine! Princess Celestia herself couldn't wear this better…”
“Would the dressmaker say as such before the Sun pony? Yes. No, I thinks not,” Long Coif giggled to herself, drawing a forced glare from Strange.
I tugged the hat down off my horn, peering down at it in my hood. A cowboy hat. Given the fact that the litany of cowboy hats littering the walls of the store was the first thing I noted upon waking up, this probably shouldn't have come as that big of a shock.
“I'm sure I look… lovely,” I started, pausing under the fierce gaze I had unwittingly attracted. “Unfortunately however, I am afraid I don't currently have access to such funds to be able to buy this ensemble. I thank you for your efforts, and for the rather… interesting jaunt through the closet, as it was.”
“No no no,” Strange refused, taking the hat from me and jamming it back over my horn. “I will not allow you to walk out of here with those tacky saddlebags. They are an affront to my senses-”
“Didn't seem to mind them last time,” Crab Apple muttered.
“I had groceries, and my bag had ripped. And you know full well I was complaining about that hideous thing the entire time,” Strange retorted, gaining a snark infused chuckle from Long Coif.
I heard a clatter of movement coming from upstairs, drawing my gaze from under the brim of… my new hat, apparently.
“Just think of it as an investment,” Strange assured me, “You wear my designs, ponies come asking about them, they end up buying other pieces… it's really a win win all around!”
Another flurry of movement sounded from upstairs, loud enough this time to draw everyone's attention.
“Oh, sounds like she's up,” Strange muttered, sheepishly scuffing at the ground. Seeing my questioning expression, she decided to elaborate without further prodding. “My daughter, Bitter Sweetness. I set her down for a nap not too long ago, seems like she's up and raring to go… all too soon,” she groused, the end of her speech lowered to a volume I'm sure she meant only for herself.
Another bump up above, and I heard the first of her daughter. All too soon, indeed.
“Take that Miss Muppsies! Such-”
No.
“-is the-”
No no no…
“Armstrong tradition!”
Nooooooooooo.
So... it's been a while, huh? Sorry for being gone for so long... I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
Battle scenes... not really my forte. I hope I did a good enough job to have made it enjoyable for you? Lemme know what you think...
There's a certain mare who goes unnamed, and is subsequently killed without even getting to say a single word in InkPotts animation Alive.
Despite the fact that I am unable to find a good picture (the only pic on google of her that seems to exist is this version, wheres shes getting menaced by HydePie.) I immediately fell in love with this character. I then searched for her name, but apparently she doesnt have one. So I name her Strange Sweetness! (after HydePies spoken dialogue during this scene...)
Her husbands name is Loosejocks. Anyone who gets that reference, *offers a hug*
Due to me wanting more views on some of my other stories, Imma drop a shameless selfplug here. Pls don't hate me...
These are URL links
|
V
To Echo A Mimic
Cout De Jumanji
Sword In The Stone: Courage To Be King
Applegate
The Mechromancer; To Build The Best
Ready Player One
^
|
Those were URL links
It's not that I doubt your intelligence to be able to tell a link from normal text once you've drifted your cursor over it. It's the fact that now since links aren't green, I myself can't tell most of the time and as such miss out on when authors include them.
megabyte97 asks;
Well that is certainly an interesting development, anyways:
To Nemo,
If you are really that worried about The Sisters jumping to the wrong conclusion of you wanting to overthrow them, then perhaps you should create a safety room for when you enter the dream realm. After all, the last time you entered the dream realm you had your new physical body's appearance. If she sees you enter the dream realm as an alicorn foal... Well, it might raise some red flags.
Yeah, it would be best if I could get a minute or two to properly realign my ego upon entering the dream. Imagine if I got dragged into a dream by a nightmare and had to fight it off in a form I'm not used to fighting in. Not like that'll ever happen though, right?
BronyofMeddlers asks;
Dear Nemo King of Slumberland,
A curious question, if you were by chance, met a changeling with good intentions-- or at least trying to be good due to their struggle in life...what would you do?
...Every instance of interaction between pony and changelings I've come across has been pretty cut and dry. They view us as food, nothing more.
To clarify, Nemo has never really come across any positive exposure of the changeling species. There might be good eggs, but he's never come across any dreams of such. He IS heavily biased in this regard, and just a little bit racist towards the love suckers.
yomon7 asks;
to nemo
have you ever fought something in a dream besides nightmare moon that has actually fought you and had to fight it some ponies, lings, people, anyone have fears and dreams they know are fake but are still nightmares and they can't control them.my question is have you ever seen one of these before or something like it and what you did.
Most nightmares aren't directly born of a direct fear, but instead they tend to latch onto a given fear in order to gain power from them. Precious few ponies have the capability to lucid dream, forcing them to bend to the whims of their fears for the duration of their slumber. If I'm unable to get to them, which of course is a longshot at best. I'm good at my job.
...
Please disregard the giant exploding cage of escaped Nightmare. That was a fluke, nothing more.
deeed22 asks;
Question for Nemo: How are you receiving and answering these questions, if your not in Dreamland?
I... uh... you see, theres this... and uh, with the refraction of... um. Well theres the gravitational effect that occurs between... mars and... hmmm. I... magic? Yes, magic. That's my answer, I'm sticking to it.
Oreon asks;
Kaybe will punch dragons in the snoot, yes.
Yes.
As always, leave a question for a character to answer. I'll make sure they do, even if I have to bust out the cattle prod!~
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iii IT LIVES !!!
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Almost 80 views, and you're the only one so far who deigned to grace me with a comment.
*Hugs*
So... Giant Teddy Bear?
...Not that surprising if the foal fell asleep with it latched onto her in the right way... Although now I can only imagine a Beware chasing a foal trying to hug the poor child to death.
To Nemo:
What are your thoughts on the game Chess?
I rather enjoyed the ending.
Armstrong tradition indeed.
img1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20090425013032/fma/images/b/b1/AlexLouisArmstrong!LookAtThoseGodlyMuscles!.jpg
This is gonna sound bad, but I was excited to see that this fic updated until I realized that you were the one who wrote it. Knowing that, I knew you were already spread pretty thin and that it wasn't likely to get another update anytime soon. Soo... Imma just move this fic out of my tracked stories and into the 'forget until I can be pleasantly susprised'
just finished binge reading this story today, and i'm sad that I'll probably have to wait a few months for the next chapter.
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media.giphy.com/media/ZE3h0eUV28ts4/source.gif
ah haha this cliff hanger is dang digger of a wait to happen, isn't it!?
The Legend of Nemo continues....
Also
Dear Nemo
Has any Dreamer (excluding Discord) ever dreamed of taking your position as "King"? and what was the outcome if their was any? and have you ever tried equipping the "dreamers" to fight nightmares?
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*cracks whip*
work faster!
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They sound inordinately happy about their lot in life...
You're back! You were the first author I ever subscribed to and this the first story. I've been hoping against hope you would continue. My faith is rewarded!
I almost forgot this fic existed after it fell into the dark crack of the second page on my favorites list. The few chapters to this story makes me sad. The year long update makes me mad. My impatience and unrealistic expectations is bad. And this chapter makes me... one-merry-comrad. To Author: Any upcoming updates to your other fics *cough* gamer displaced *cough* you can share with us?
Seems like it's going to get amusing next chapter!
Honestly, I'm already polishing my shipping goggles! 
Only thing I found strange was Long Coil. I mean, if she really was with them, how did she throw that stallion out of her shop last chapter? I mean, she can't be at two places at once.
Dear Nemo,
I think it would be a good idea to at least practice fighting in pony form for cases where you won't get a chance to shift your ego. Also have you tried meditation it might help with your powers.
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Even in a town of a couple hundred (give or take a few score,) there's a definite limit to the amount of people requiring a haircut in any given day. Especially among those that tend to just let their hair be a ridiculously long length year round.
Basically, Curly Potato pissed off Long Coif last chapter, so she told him she can't just go off and wander during her busy day. She obviously can, and is this chapter. All she has to do is leave a 'back in half an hour, getting lunch' sign and take a leisurely stroll. The reason why she followed along was more to talk to Crab Apple than to accompany Nemo. But this story is focused on Nemo, and not on the conversation taking place between two background characters. If they'd been talking when he was awake I may have included it (it was basically just rehash of 'he's not a changeling, yes we used he pies' conversation she had with Baeburn. She's just reassuring Long Coif that he's not a threat.) but as is, I figured it would just drag the story down.
Yep. Living among the ponies in secret. Totally unnoticed. Really. Nothing suspicious here.
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Ah, okay. So she kicked his flank and after that left her shop to walk to them? Okay, that makes sense then.
Anyway I am already curious to see this story continue. Especially the meeting with the filly!
Greetings Good Nemo, King of Slumberland, Defender of Dreams, Recent Alicorn,
Hopefully this question does not infringe on the promises made to Lady Surprise, but what is your response to the dreams of those ravaged by war. flashes of conflict unending, and battles fought? Even in Equestria there are surely old soldiers, so how do you address their dreams?
Sincerely,
Magus Neon
Oh god, it's the Rarities. They're breeding.
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I recently started, and finished watching another show on Netflicks. It's called Lolirock, and it has been mocking me for the past year or so with its appearance. It kept getting in my recommended feed, so I eventually broke down and watched it.
It wasn't horrible. Overly monster of the week style show, but still enjoyable. The reason why I'm mentioning all of this?
Tabitha S Germaine voices a character on the show (alongside Ashliegh Ball, and even Michelle Creber comes in for an episode or two to voice different characters...), and that character?
Turns out later to be a fashion designer.
So it is now my head cannon that Rarity will always be Rarity, no matter what form she takes or face she wears. It's a fashion revolution, and she's here to say the word 'darling'.
(Seeing as Balls voice for her character is a less scratchy version of Rainbow Dash, I'm having trouble keeping the 'Rainbow Dash always dresses in style!' joke from bursting out...)
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The Fashionista With A Thousand Faces. Joseph Campbell would be proud.
HE LIVES!!! And I hope he learns Luna is just worried about him, and NOT angry with him.
I just noticed it updated again. Hopefully it can again and maybe do it more often instead of once a month if possable?
Love you mean it author <3
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I was remembering Madoka, but I suppose that anything referencing Dawn Somewhere back during the FimFlamFilosophy days is alright by me.
AAAAAARRRRRMMMMMMSSSSSTTTTRRRRROOOOONNNNGGGGGGGG
This is an amazing story if this ever updates again I would love to see Luna's reaction to finding out that The King of Slumberland is her son
Great story I love I hope it comes back soon.
I need more of this pls
another good story started but never finished...
Hm... There're solid beginnings of a good story, here. Something not often seen, at that: HiE with a twist upon a twist. I'd say - do continue. This character is most certainly after my own heart, in a fashion - I do enjoy (sometimes sarcastic) wits so, being myself a rather dark-hearted little git. ;)
When will there be a sequel !?
Is this story dead?