Favorable Alignment

by Ice Star

Chapter 11: Three Word Repeat

Sombra:

I think it would be best if I tried not to breathe for quite a while. After Luna pushed me down the gate to this strange realm, I was left gasping for breath at the door that separated us from where I am now.

Luna was required to cast a spell on me so I'd be able to travel through Aquastria without imploding and would still be able to breathe. I tried to tell her she didn't have to worry about the latter, since I've always wanted to have an excuse to see if a demon like myself really needs to breathe air like a pony does. It certainly sounded much better in my head. This earned me a strange look and a remark from Luna, who then told me how much it would hurt to even attempt something like that.

If only she knew exactly how much it had hurt to wear a crown for eight years. Had the crown she had worn before she met her own prison, which was surely colder than my own, burdened her nearly as much as it had me?

Since she knew far more about Aquastria than I did, Luna was the obvious choice to navigate whatever we were to encounter in this world below.

It was something I never could have expected, even though I had to glimpse all through an enchanted pocket of air that kept me dry and able to view such a spectacle. I could feel each step I took on the sea-ground beneath me, slick with the water that would overtake its surface once again, as it rippled above and around me. The sheer claustrophobia caused me to shiver and left me with the desire to be anywhere but here. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, to say the least, since I constantly felt as if I had to make myself smaller inside the already cramped pocket. I found myself longing to just fold up and disappear from this allotted space that had me constantly holding my breath, knowing that the world itself was my veil, and what felt like a fragile one at that.

Luna, on the other hoof, needed no adjustment to these conditions, or any bubble to save her from undersea pressures. Her deep indigo coat stood out against the deeper blue and gray gradient that might as well have all but dissolved if it weren't for the black of my mane, gleam of my boots as well as Fate's hilt, and the fire-

Red. My eyes are red. Crimson, maybe. Perhaps they do burn, but I can't say that they're what she sees. Just because she saw past everything once does not mean I can expect her to do so constantly.

I honestly liked being cloaked by the rippling stripes of light and shadow that came from the swaying waves. All around us were brightly colored stones and tall, waving ferns. The only true light came from the turquoise sheen of Luna's magic and the flashes of wonder in her eyes as they flicked to follow darting shapes, the barely-gray shadows and indistinguishable forms muted on the horizon. My eyes warily followed the same shapes, and I trailed a few steps behind the goddess, running my tongue over the spell upon my fangs, a calculating to habit to make sure it was still intact.

I had yet to figure out what these creatures that flew through the water, with sharp, smooth and near soundless glides were. I do not think the term I used was the correct one, but there wasn't much else I could call their movements. Maybe it was natural, and maybe it wasn't. There would be nothing to rationalize until I was able to get a better look at such life, as they were too far away to observe correctly and displayed little signs of being exceptionally gifted in magic or possessing the behavior of anything I should place any importance on.

Luna's eyes caught my position, where she offered a small smile. Although, this time her mouth was closed and her quick gesture of friendliness, it bore hints of worry that only I caught. "What do you think so far?"

I was grateful that she didn't bother to offer a pointless and flat waste of words asking about my well-being when we could read each other quite plainly. Her voice was somewhat eerie and distorted by the water she stood in and her mane floated about her form with slow waves, its sparkles not as prominent. I suspected the reason she could still breathe well, handle such pressure, as well as move so fluidly were but a few signs of her inborn godhood.

Meanwhile, I rotted in the feeling of condensed magic that prickled against my coat in the most unpleasant way possible now that their waves were dense and distorted in ways that were far from natural, as they could not pierce this curtain of water and hang in the air as laxly as they could on land or air.

"It's certainly exotic," I say just loud enough for her to hear the inklings of contempt that come from my present condition, and pause before adding, "and while I wish to learn more, this certainly isn't for me. I could only imagine what dreadful things this unusually salty water would do to my mane if I were able to go like you do. Blegh."

I reach up to push a lock into my face for emphasis to my disgust. "The Right-Honourable Lord Sombra does not think highly of the conditions here, as they differ to much from what I'm used to. Although, he is still intrigued by the creatures that may dwell here, though they are lucky to be gifted with my presence at all. Surely, they realize this is hardly even a millennial occurrence for them?"

Luna's laughter looses none of its mirth underwater, but is distorted like almost everything else so it didn't sound quite as loud. "Did any of the other princesses tell you how funny your sass is?"

"Well..."

The pink one treated me like a storybook villain, and then a reluctant friend before she got to where she is now. Mac has made it quite clear that she doesn't appreciate my sarcasm, a reaction which I disregard, but she's still able to play along once or twice.

The disgusting purple aspartame substitute for my candy golem did nothing but whine her privileged ass off and stomp her hooves in an attempt to summon the husk that she feels needs to hold her hooves at all times when her five servants aren't around to dote on her.

Lastly is the ugly matriarch the lacking lilac worm aspires to be. A hobbled and dull husk without an adequate understanding of anything, except attempting to look pretty as she signs papers and preaches lies and needlessly coddles any ignorant subject that is so much as displeased with the weather in that dystopia the humorless old tyrant loves so dearly. She has so little tolerance for me, or anyone and anything that doesn't fit into whatever sick ideology that she has created, and certainly couldn't ever imagine me doing anything outside of licking up the dirt on which she has just walked upon. This would mean she is unable to see me as anything even close to what I am, so 'funny' is out of the question.

I've never been called that before.

"...no."

This seems to surprise her, and I offer no remark to show how unexpected this is for me.

"I certainly find you to be funny."

I'm not even sure how I'm supposed to respond to this. I either think of 'funny' as either ironic or pathetic, and I'm hardly being ironic right now, and pathetic isn't even an option for somepony as grand as myself.

"You're very witty yourself, Luna."

She's still smiling, but turns her head a bit, and I'm able to see that she must not be very used to honest compliments instead of meaningless and standard pleasantries and flattery that come with those regal shackles, as her face colors just a little bit.

"Were you still planning to tell me about Alicorns like myself?" Luna asks after a short while.

We have walked nearer to the edge of an undersea slope, where the silhouette of a large, wealthy-looking town and a palace loom in the murky distance, a thousand werelights floating above them like an anchored mimicry of the night sky. I could see flocks of the strange creatures drifting about alongside some strange kind of equine.

It would be a walk that lasted, oh, I'd say about four hours. There'd be plenty of time to talk, and plenty of time to think over what we say.

Equine... but not a pony.

It looks like I've given myself the perfect place to start as well, so as we walk, I tell her of the godhood that makes her unlike a pony, how she is just as equine as me, but is and never was a pony.

I avoid the topic of the books that told me this, but never will I forget their flame-licked covers.

I won't forget who they left behind, and the horrible feeling that came with it, or the shape that lied in the ashes that sat, feeling so raw, so lost, and hurt. How he was more alone than ever in that moment, for it was the only time he was truly aware of how he had not just felt simply alone, but deserted in the first and greatest massacre that had ever really touched him.

She's unlikely to know that I memorized every word, as I usually do. Or how some of what I say is from those pages that crumbled and perished in the fire that never should have been, how it's glow gave life to a knife held in magic that ran wet with the crimson ink of a different kind of book to spell out words that I'd never let be true. Over and over. Cut after cut, until there was little that could be done to hide the limp and all I had to see, wide-eyed and staring slack-jawed, eyes burning like the rest of me, but only on the inside.

It was always colder there. A bitter prison that rivaled the ice and two eyes, allegedly of flame, had to witness each rip, each lost secret and history. Every blood spatter carefully calculated by eyes that saw all the shades of shadow in a world of a gray that spoke only of death, how he, a forced Reaper, even more mute than they, saw the crimson ink that was inflicted upon him.

He could have ended it all, exchanged one Tartarus for another. But he waited, and years later salvation came on night-blue wings and eyes that flashed with two worlds as they deciphered the honest darkness in which I lived for eight years. How her eyes possessed a madness I had seen only in myself in the present darkness, sadness over anger to my opposite, rage clawed over layers of despair.

How could we have recognized what we had never seen before? With crimson aura and a silver sword with bright lightning flashing between us, how did I ever know that two complete wholes would ever come together in a bight world of idolized fragments, and that we would begin a tale of two shadows that would last till now, even if I was the only one to know?

When I stop telling all that I agreed to, everything has happened. But only to me.

We are halfway to the current destination, and there is an elevated sense of wonder in those turquoise that I'd tell everything I can bear to and nothing given the chance. I still can't believe that his mare, out of everypony in this rotten world would heal me, and fix what had been stolen.

Aren't I a monster? How is there but one answer to that? Why would she heal me?

How could anypony heal me? Why aren't I her demon as well? Where's the blame to shift to me, the looks of half-built friendship and the smiles that know how violent I can really be?

Where's everything I've come to know? Why is this beautiful goddess who rebels so wonderfully against everything, whether she knows it or not, at times unaware of what she does? There's no absolute about me to her, a mare that flicks between shrouds of ignorance and drifts through the guarded cities of order to see a free world, the one that lights the wonder that she still has in her eyes.

How could anypony be surprised it was her? This clever rebel who breaks every rule but her own, and can't be resisted by me, who bears each thread of black and white and weaves something together that only her eyes and mine can call familiar, a gray that suits us both.

But for now I continue to keep all to myself, it is her turn to talk.

...

I could listen to Luna speak for eternity. Her voice was as alive as she was, and she knew how to say each word as if it belonged in an epic. Her words mattered, each and every word was smartly chosen and as interesting as she was. Luna's voice has this lovely sound, its low and melodious and even if she was reading something as painfully idiotic as Equestrian As She Is Spoke, it would still have an oddly compelling quality.

I had told her most of what I knew about the gods that had ruled kingdoms that no longer existed, and a few other things as if I were a detailed history book. Luna speaks of equines called sirens and seaponies, and all sorts of other curious little workings of this underwater world, an adventurer's spark in her eyes as she effortlessly works in all kinds of poetic details that only somepony who sat and watched the world could ever hope to glimpse.

We compliment one another. Luna is the only pony I've actually ever wanted to listen to or spend time around. I didn't even know it was possible to love somepony more than I love myself, but I do.

Suddenly, Luna stops talking and is distracted by something a few paces away, moving in a patch of coral, as the strange rock-plants are called.

We were approaching the town - which Luna said was called Styx - and I had begun to feel the magic of living things that were close by once again, some equine, some belonging to the strange creatures I had yet to see up close. Although, Luna's description of them created the image of something utterly foreign, even to somepony like me.

When she returns, there is a creature held within the wavering glow of her magic and excitement in her eyes.

"Look," she exclaims, thrusting the creature closer.

I can't tell whether it is male or female, mostly because I'm bombarded by the many scales that its almost snake-like body has, each in bright purple, orange, or yellow. Its tail and mouth - which constantly bears a dumb-struck expression that looks something like an 'O' - are an icy blue, with two long strands that almost look like whiskers in the same hue.

Three other fins along its back, stomach, and two on each side of its body are a deep green. While this creature stares at me with a wide-eyed, utterly derpy wall-eyed stare, my muzzle crinkles in disgust as I return with a stare of my own, glaring at the orange-faced creature. Blegh.

"What will you name him?" Luna asks brightly, clearly not confused by the strange animal swimming in a turquoise pocket of magic. Even though she explained that animals like this swim to move around, I can't help but find that an unusual way to go from place to place.

"Name him? Luna, I don't even know what you want me to do with him."

"Have you never had a pet before?"

"No, what is that?" I ask. Both of us have ceased walking in order to carry on this conversation, and I cast a quick glance over in the direction of Styx, which will have to wait a while longer.

"A pet is another animal, usually a small one, like a bird, cat, or rodent that lives with you, follows you around at times, and are a different kind of friend. Most ponies have one as a foal, and play games with them."

I recall something from Onyx's memories that fits what she describes very well. "So, would an example of a pet be Banshee?"

There's a hint of sadness in Luna's eye, and she nods quietly. "Yes, exactly like Banshee."

"And you want me to have this... this... err... this...?"

"He's a fish, Sombra."

"Got it."

"So what will you call him?"

"Fish."

Luna's hoof nears her face but does not complete its course. "That's what he is, I'm asking you what his name will be."

"Fish."

"Are you kidding? Calling him 'Fish' would be like calling me 'Alicorn' in place of 'Luna'. What do you honestly wish to name this companion?"

"Fish," I repeat, my tone just as flat as it was the first two times.

"Could you at least make it a little more creative?"

I pause for a moment. I need a brilliant name for this creature. Something bold, something nopony would think of...

"Fish, Destroyer of Worlds," I conclude.

Something absurd enough to make Luna practically smash her own hoof into her face.

"Please, for the love of everything that is sacred in this world, don't have foals," she mutters, "I dread to know what you would name them."

"I'm not making any promises on that one," I reply, smirking as I do so.

Luna cocks one eyebrow suspiciously and I quickly make my expression as neutral as possible. She floats Fish's bubble of water toward me, where it floats beside, me anchored by my own magic, which causes the defined bubble of water to glow red momentarily.

I give Fish a sideways glance, trying to see past the bubble where he swims contentedly in order to see Luna's expression and gauge her reaction, only to feel a vague sense of apprehension when her expression was revealed to be just as stoic as mine.

Maybe she won't dwell on it.

'Maybe' here meaning that this will be in the back of her mind as a suspicious behavior.

We resume our journey to Styx in silence.

...

Styx certainly wasn't a very loud place like some Equestrian cities. The dark colored stone buildings trimmed with coral and werelights blended into the surrounding land very well. The weathered edges of various conservatively sculpted houses and shops were easy enough to forget since they lacked some of the tasteful yet bold designs I had seen in Canterlot, but still proved that they were more worthy of my attention than an average Equestrian location. In my travels, numerous villages throughout Equestria were lacking anything particularly noteworthy that I am mildly surprised anypony bothered to name them.

I was pleased with the shuttered windows, most of them were all shut tightly so there were less eyes on me and more on Luna as we made our way through the quiet streets. I don't imagine that unannounced visits from the divine, and one who trotted about unconcealed, were anything less than astonishing.

My hooves on the thickly cut stone bricks of the streets was the sound that could be considered the loudest through the meaningless early morning chatter of the seapony peasants that lingered near the sides of the streets, demonstrating that they were at least a few pegs above ponies by not calling out any names, or glaring at me like I did to them out of the corner of my eyes until most of them bowed their heads or looked away abruptly once I shot the colorful creatures and their duller-hued town a mildly belligerent look before looking at something less pathetic.

It wasn't too difficult to see that the entire town was built around the palace and the estate encompassing it. While none of the residents could be considered poor, especially not by the standards I have seen, the dwellings became more distasteful and unnecessarily opulent in order to make the presence of whatever deficient and boring dimwits lived within known. I swear that if jewels and gold had any superficial worth to me, I would have made a fine highwaypony, but more dashing and without any of the needless gentlecolt act. My presence is enough of a gift, and what's a kind word to one's enemies without a touch of venom? Utterly artless.

Luna appears to be at ease in the city, which is good, since she's going to have to be conversing with her oaf of a cousin soon. There are a few of these strange equines who bow slightly, recognizing her as a Princess-Goddess and all that strikes me as a reminder of the utmost reverence for Alicorns that has managed to echo past the death of the Old World.

I get a bit of somepony's garbage thrown at me in the most careless of ways - it's like they don't know I can see things and think I'll just stand there and take this. It isn't even a proper wad, too. Stingy fish-horses. I guess I'm lucky these aren't Equestrians. I've caught wind of a few conversations when in disguise of what ponies think of me from whatever propaganda has been released.

Some of the things they want to do to me are almost as atrocious as the things they believe I've done. I've gotten disgusted just listening to a few tales of things I've never done. How can ponies be this disturbed? Celestia has kept them moronic and naive for the most part, and she's been doing it for a thousand years and yet, if you paint a picture of a monster - no matter how false it is - their words will bring it to life.

I'm jolted out of my thoughts by Luna screaming at somepony, well it's actually in the direction of somepony, and the one who threw garbage at me. Why would she do this? It's not like I'm going to cry as if I were a foal, there's been worse things that have been done to me. This would be an everyday occurrence if I were to go out into the public as a am.

Why bother?

Only when I look down do I see a reason that Luna could be so angry. They didn't just throw any kind of garbage at me.

They threw a glob of discarded fish at me. Seaponies eat fish.

They threw meat at me.

No. This is disgusting. Why? WHY?!

No. No. No. Gods, I hate meat, I hate it.

Gods, why does everything have to be so rotten?

I didn't realize I was shaking and had been so zoned out until Luna takes my hoof and guides me a bit closer to her, and I'm still shivering and trying not to think about everything that happened because I don't want to, and I didn't want to do any of that, I really didn't-

"Sombra, look away; just look at me."

I'm hyperventilating and feel heavier than any stone when I can feel her one of her hooves cover my eyes, and the last thing I see is one glimpse of Fish's colorful scales as she manages to pull me away and my hooves move one again...

One step. I manage one step. And she guides me through another, and another...

"Sombra, we're almost to the castle," Luna whispers, "I'm sorry."

I love you. I love you. I love you.

...

Those three words that had been with me for one thousand years and counting. The longer I live the louder they get, and the more I want to tell her, even though I can't risk such carelessness. Despite the parallel eternities that lies before us both, I know that neither of us will forget a single mistake in this game when everything is aligned so favorably. I'd end up hurting us both because of my lovesickness.

Everything centers around those three words which have never faded over time. They're always somewhere, usually in the back of my mind. It doesn't matter if it's over the course of hours during a long train ride to a forsaken empire or just a brief flicker of longing behind anger at somepony else upon seeing a portrait from a time I've never known.

Three words that are so far from simple have always been there and sometimes a fourth - her name - follows like the memory of her in that lucid abyss.

She's what makes eternity a gift instead of a bet. Luna is the only reason this world is distinguishable from Tartarus and Paradise is no reward at all, only a different kind of prison.

I'm not an inadequate suitor chasing the image of a mare I want to see with nothing but gilded lies. I don't want power, or titles, and the world to know my name, nor do I want to try and impress her with superficial strength and a practiced smile when I defeat my enemies.

There's only two things I care about: Her and I, because I will not just lay about and fawn over her like she's just a fleeting idol. I've acted upon this and will not sit idly by and dream of our parallel eternities converging when I can make them just long enough to tell the greatest thief I have ever met that she stole my heart and can damn well keep it.

It doesn't matter what is thrown at me because I won't let anything or anyone - pony or not - stand in between me and what I've been waiting one thousand years to say to her, whenever the perfect moment arises. This includes gods.

And to some extent this includes gods with terrible taste in interior design. I give another disdainful glare to the halls of Styx Palace, which Luna and I had just entered.

Everything I thought Canterlot Castle would have been, the Styx Palace was. The walls were ornately carved with details in reliefs that just seemed excessive. The borders of the walls and floors were disastrous flourishes that were organized in a pattern I couldn't make any sense of. All I caught was too much gold - which was almost as bad as all the purple shades that could be seen in the stone - and other soft, bright colors that reminded me of an overly sunny and flower-infested garden, which was just reason to scowl at what I could see as I tried to keep my head slightly lowered so as much of Styx was seen only through my mane.

It was difficult even to try and focus on the floor, which didn't bear any tiled mosaics in bold colors but were inlaid with patterns nonetheless. This was because what would have been decent architecture at one point was marred with literally thousands of trinkets cluttering every hall. They lined the shelves tacked there and were crammed onto the surface of every table that bordered what little hallway remained visible under various enchanted rugs.

"Does Neptune have to use tracking spells to find everything?" I ask Luna, who walks to my left when I had mentioned to her as discreetly as possible I didn't want the seapony guard following us to be anywhere near that side, since I still wan't used to being able to view this much.

"Sometimes, I would think. His memory is good enough," she responded while eyeing a clock with many shells in it warily.

"I can't find any shadows in this place, so unfortunately for me he's thorough in this hoarding. Is he ill?"

"My cousin has habits that many dismiss as peculiar."

I pause just long enough to fall behind a few paces. The guard who isn't deserving of any description by me is quite fast at navigating this trash heap. "I take it you don't follow that trend."

"Not at all, I simply can't guess to what would cause some of his problems."

"Does he... err... eat fish too?" I almost spit the words out and shake with disgust at the thought of even mentioning such a thing.

"No. I'm sorry that that happened to you, Sombra. I didn't know it would make you so uncomfortable. There's no way I won't tell Neptune about this. His subjects should be better behaved than that, as it isn't like they were scarred by the Collapse."

"It's nothing new."

"I don't think that's an excuse for you to be treated as you are."

"I mistreat ponies too."

"That's easier to rationalize, is it not? You don't mistreat ponies if they don't wrong you, correct?"

I love you, Luna.

I look up to the high vaulted ceiling, which too was cluttered tastelessly, but I wasn't able to see much as Fish swam in his bubble above me.

There was nothing to say, both on my part and because we had arrived at the door to the throne room. To the latter, I need not even raise an eyebrow, because clearly whoever ruled this land wasn't as enlightened as they thought troves of absolutely delicious not-so-lost knowledge might suggest.

This Neptune thought that he could design doors better than I could, gilding them with murals of gods long forgotten by all but those who remain. He even had the nerve to use the largest, most polished gems for their eyes.

Neptune never got the long overdue notice that he was my inferior, at most. I quicken my pace, pushing the guard aside and grabbing the doors with a nice flash of crimson magic and push them inward, immediately reeling from a blinding flash within - no doubt from some gaudy trash - and feel the flinching prickling sensation that lets me know that there's enraged god about as if the terrified scream of a stallion and trident pointed at my neck wasn't enough.

"So it's going to be one of those days?" I drawl.

Two eyes of watery blue have the nerve to look elsewhere and my gaze follows his down and nearly does a double take. Flecks of blood mar his chestplate, which is fashioned out of shells, as well as the front of my cloak.

A barrier of the darkest blue feathers divides the trident from me. Luna's wing took the trident for me and separates me from having my chest speared.

She has healed a monster when the world wanted only to hurt me, which was something I didn't expect, even from her... but now she is willing to temporarily cripple herself and-

My attention is pulled away from my own thoughts by the faint trails of blood drifting through the water like frayed threads.

It's her blood.

"Neptune do you know who this is?"

"King Sombra, tyrant king of the north," he recites dully, "an obvious Shadow."

Neptune wrenches his trident out of Luna's wing, not noticing that she's clearly in too much pain to even vocalize now. When he's done, her wing, with hideous shreds and punctures through it almost drops loosely to her side, but I catch it with my magic and step closer to her. The sight hurts me, and I want to pull her aside, to thank her, offer soothing noises, nuzzle her-

I can't do that.

"You are wrong," Luna replies, her voice steely as she meets her cousin's weaker gaze, "Sombra is no king, nor is he a tyrant. This is Sombra, Duke of Nowhere and Nothing. He is accompanying me on matters we have traveled great distance to discuss with you, and I would greatly appreciate it if Sombra's temper and my own were not invoked in any way."

It's hard to choose which weapon, Fate or that oversized trident, to take to Neptune's face when I'm done with healing Luna's wing, and it's harder not to do any of that at all. Hardest still is not showing Luna how angry I feel for the duration of this and comprehending why she would do something like that for me.

It had to be simply because it would inconvenience her to have me regenerate because her cousin ran me through with an oversized fork. She would have been found out by that wretch of a sister of hers and her plans would have been spoiled.

Let one wing be wounded for the possibility of preserving this world. When I've finished mending her wing, I clear my throat and gently fold it before letting go. She folds it gently at her side, eyes shining upon seeing what she whispers is a good job. Neptune mumbles something stuffy and leads her, Fish, and I into the throne room but Luna turns to me and bestows me with a small smile I shouldn't receive after what I've done today.

My facial expression is unreadable. but it's not like I want to tell her how hollow I feel as the last traces of her blood dissolve in the water.

I keep asking myself why even though I have no idea what the answer is.

How can you be so kind to me?

Comments

[nebulaegalaxy]

Something bold, something nopony would think of...
"Fish, Destroyer of Worlds," I conclude.
Something absurd enough to make Luna practically smash her own hoof into her face.
"Please, for the love of everything that is sacred in this world don't have foals," she mutters, "I dread to know what you would name them."

He's better than I would be at least

[NorrisThePony]

The dark colored stone buildings trimmed with coral and werelights blended into the surrounding land very well, the weathered edges of various conservatively sculpted houses and shops were easy enough to forget since they lacked some of the tasteful yet bold designs I had seen in Canterlot, but still proved that they were more worthy of my attention than an average Equestrian location.

The seaponies having a Gothic, Rapture-esque city is such a rad thought.

Equestrian As She Is Spoke

Oh my god you went there

[Kaleido]

"Fish, Destroyer of Worlds," I conclude.

amazing

"That's easier to rationalize, is it not? You don't mistreat ponies if they don't wrong you, correct?"

sombra's very good at that, cause the ponies that get into a habit of following him around often poke at his boundaries a bit too much, and while normally that would be cause for anger, he has anger and a *sword*, and suddenly he's not worth listening to and the boundaries just get pushed more!
fantastic thanks that's terrible

[MayhemMoth]

There's always so much I feel I could say about every chapter you post, but between reading at ridiculous hours of the night and bein stuck on my phone, it'd take forever to say something long.

So for now I'll just say, Luna's a very good friend.

[Ice Star]

10603719
You could always read at hours that would let you say more. 👀

[MayhemMoth]

10603728
I could, but unfortunately I live with my family and something as simple as a TV on in another room is a major distraction from reading.

So it's hard. I'll probably have to get over that for the long chapters though.