Peachy Pie and Misty Moon Keep the Realm Safe Until Dinnertime
“We can’t go in the basement,” Misty Moon said, “’cause that’s where the monsters are.”
She said it quite assuredly and with a little flick of a nod. For children rarely have doubts about such things, and they need not dally on maybes and what-ifs. So Peachy Pie did not ask about the door again, at least not yet. Of course, the quickest way to make sure a child remembers something is to tell her to forget it, and so the little gears and flywheels clicked and whirred in Peachy Pie’s head.
With a shrug, Peachy Pie bump-stumbled her way across the floor, tripping and slipping on the train of her long princess gown. It was, naturally, a very impressive garment, as befit the generous ruler of her realm. But with a sparkle-glint to her eye, she did note that even good princesses required a dungeon. Perfection never absolved one of having enemies. Perhaps she would broach the subject again later when Misty had lost the characteristic hunch to her shoulders that always accompanied a mention of the basement.
Misty Moon, her most trusted advisor, led her back to the playroom. They had acquired enough sustenance in the form of applesauce and carrot sticks to tide them over until a proper feast could be arranged, after all, and the pretty prancing procession proceeded back to their base of operations. They still needed to plot their campaign against the marauding diamond dogs.
“What shall we do about the invaders?” Peachy said, removing the dress and, unfortunately, the wings with it. Her conical cap hid the fact that she also lacked a horn, but off it went, as she needed to don her most resplendent battle armor, crafted from the finest cardboard.
Misty had little more than old towels to build her own suit of armor. Her guest got to use the choice equipment; if decorum did not prevail while playing princesses, then when would it? So with threadbare breastplate and frayed bracers, she appeared quite the terrible tatterdemalion. No matter, as any true foe would not judge her by such superficial standards. Not one who wished to remain in good health, anyway. Prowess on the battlefield had the last word, so she clambered and climbed over their pillow bulwarks strewn with blankets. Everypony knew that blankets protected one from monsters. When pulled up over the head, they formed an infinitely impenetrable barrier to any ferocious beasts who might eat a pony. What better material for a fortress?
Peachy Pie had agreed that if she got the better armor, Misty surely deserved the better weapon. A balance of power would serve them well, even if they were on the same side. “I say we charge ’em head-on!” Misty declared, brandishing her broom-lance. “Take no prisoners!”
“If we have no prisoners, how are we going to make them confess?” Peachy asked in her haughtiest tone. A princess out of her regalia was still a princess, and she needed to carry her office among the troops. Perhaps Misty would take the hint as well.
“You’re on about that dungeon thing again?” Misty said with a sigh.
“Fine,” Peachy said, hunching her shoulders. She leapt over the moat with her lopsided ladle-mace, and once more unto the breach, dear friends. They could both hear the clash of metal blade against metal blade in the distance, the soldiers giving their all in defense of the realm. The battle had raged on for as long as fifteen minutes, perhaps, and victory had been in doubt more than once. But the metallic ringing pushed further away from the fortress now, the enemy in full retreat. Or perhaps it was merely Misty’s mother mixing up something in the kitchen.
Whatever the source, they threw the whole kit and kaboodle of their armory against the diamond dogs and efficiently dispatched the dastardly degenerates, save one. Peachy had kept her prize hidden, but when she presented the prisoner with a telltale triumphant grin, Misty heaved another great sigh and shook her head. “Please tell me you didn’t.”
Peachy had known Misty for several months, and they had played together frequently, ever since Misty had moved to town. Their adventures had taken them to every room in the house except the basement so far. And whenever Peachy mentioned the curious omission, Misty always gave the same excuse: “There’s monsters down there.” She never sounded worried about it, so how bad could they be? Certainly not a convincing argument, but then why continue to resist? Sheer obstinacy? Misty would only stomp her hoof and roll her eyes the same way Peachy’s mother did when repeatedly asked for some candy, annoyed at being pestered.
“What’s so secret about the basement?” Peachy said.
“Nothing,” Misty uttered with a great deal of breath and slouching; Peachy could imagine clouds of fog streaming out with it. “Fine. We’ll intergate your prisoner.”
“Interrogate,” Peachy corrected.
Misty only folded her forehooves. “You won’t even take a blanket?” she asked. Peachy shook her head, like a resolute ruler should. She knew as well as any foal what power blankets held, but in broad daylight, and with the only naysayer far from concerned about it, Peachy simply had no reason to quail before an empty threat.
So Peachy Pie flung open the door, flicked on the light, and flounced down the staircase, bumble-trundling about in her unwieldy armor to the bottom.
“Ooh, there’s some cool stuff down here!” she said.
Misty soon appeared at her side. She didn’t see what was so interesting about the same old junk. Neither did the monster.
“Misty!” her mother called. “Peachy’s mom just came by looking for her. Has she gone home yet?”
“No,” Misty answered with a sheepish hang of her head as she trudged into the kitchen, her fangs only now fading away.
Her mother scowled at her. “You didn’t…”
“But Mom!” Misty wailed. “She wouldn’t stop askin’ about the basement, and she’d pretty much figured out by now I was hidin’ something.” She shrugged. “Nothin’ I could do about it.”
Her mother harrumphed and leaned against the counter, her forelegs folded. “You didn’t even save me any, did you? And now we’ll have to move again.” She clicked her tongue and shook her head, and Misty’s heart sank. She was going to get grounded again.
Curiously, children are right about blankets.
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I didn't read this story so far, but I have to point out here that the filly in the cover is not Peachy Pie, that's Noi.
Here's how Peachy Pie looks, she's the filly on the right:
https://www.derpibooru.org/951157?scope=scpeec1d2bd7aaa2d86c0a1254cb14f25140952f71c9
Seconded what 7244436 said.
Although I do love this story all the same. Even if ... well, you know.
7244499
I didn't say I'm not loving it. I probably will, once I have gotten around to read it (whenever that may be).
But I don't like when ponies get called wrong because, well, because it's wrong. Noi is not Peachy Pie and Peachy Pie is not Noi.
And additionally, for Peachy Pie, she's barely known in the fandom anyway and almost forgotten by bronies, so calling another pony with her name will just worsen this, so I alerted of this so that Pascoite can change the name to "Noi".
7244546
Sorry, didn't mean to imply that you didn't like the story because of that. Noi's one of my personal favorite fillies, and I've written a number of stories about her.
Peachy Pie's been in one of mine so far (along with Sunny Daze).
7244436
Here's my thought process:
1) I know that's not Peachy Pie.
2) I don't care.
3) It's the only canon example I know of where a filly is wearing a princess dress and hat.
4) Close enough.
*Whistles*
That got dark out of nowhere. I enjoyed it, though--especially the little kids playing. I liked the descriptions.
7244886 Yeah, it's surprising how brutal the endings are to some of the original Grimm's fairy tales, for instance. That's what inspired this.
7244953
Oh, yeah, I'm aware--but, despite the fact that I liked how it was written, it felt like the darkness was a little sudden.
Heyyy, I remember this one. :D And luckily, I didn't recall the ending too soon!
7245168 I telegraphed it a bit, but the reader was never going to take Misty Moon seriously about the monsters. It was an interesting exercise in writing something where people will be too trusting of children. I'd be curious to know how many readers go through this wondering when the Dark tag is going to kick in. Or how many even noticed it was there.
On a related note, how does this still have only one downvote? I'm surprised it's not half and half.
That was..., somewhat disturbing. Good job.
7244668
That kind of bugged me a little bit when I saw the cover art, but I got over it. And that is a totally adorable pic.
ETA: also Noi isn't a canon name, and the Peachy Pie in the show is totally different than the toy, so even Hasbro don't give a f
k.
Very nicely written. I was confused by “You didn’t even save me any, did you?" It's a strong line, but it means Misty is the monster, so I don't understand how the basement works, or how they're "hiding" something down there, or how Misty works (she's compelled to eat people who go into her basement? even after they move?).
7251900 There's a lot that's implied, maybe too subtly. Misty is a monster, but the fact that her mother would want something to eat as well means the whole family is. There are more of them in the basement, and when it's obvious Peachy's never going to let up about going down there, Misty puts a stop to it. She could just keep refusing, but she's a kid and she makes an immature decision. Then they have to move (and presumably change their identities) because someone will make the connection with previous times it had happened. Normally, they can keep things covered up, but once it a while, like now, a disappearance is too obvious or high-profile to hide.
7252059 Misty can pass for normal, and can control herself, so having Misty be a monster and also having monsters who always stay in the basement and can't control themselves implies there are 2 different types of monsters. That makes that hypothesis complicated enough that I felt, when reading, like it must be the wrong one, and I must be missing something.
7252101 Now it's getting into the kind of speculation I didn't want to include in the story, since the longer I spend on the second scene, the more it takes away from the feel of the first. Maybe Misty's mother fancies herself and her daughter as more civilized than the others, maybe it's quite the opposite, where they're low on the pecking order and have to endure the shame of appearing as ponies, or maybe they're the two designated on this round to maintain that form so the rest can have a camouflaged home to hide in.
Good fun. Clearly, this is why parents always tell their kids about monsters in basements: They don't actually know which basements have leftover colonies of monsters in them from when the previous tenants were chased out.
7252101
I'd assumed based on the line about fangs fading away that Misty and her mother were changelings. The basement would be where the ponies they're copying are cocooned, with Misty being the monster described in the basement scene itself.
Apparently I was wrong, but the story still works either way. A nifty read!
I never got around to posting a review notification here, but at least you saw it on the blog. As you know, I liked it, though it was a devil to review without giving away anything important!
10182803
As Chris once posted on his blog: