Day One Patch
Back when Mom had been Princess, she sometimes sent Moondog messages over the dreamwaves concerning this or that matter. These issues were rarely important; when they were, Mom would come over to Moondog directly. As a result, Moondog had semi-subconsciously taken to sort of ignoring them. Not completely, of course, but shuffling them down her list of priorities a dream or two, maybe three. If Mom had ever had a problem with it, she’d never said anything, so that behavior persisted.
notify(self.getSpellMessages(), sm);
And so, when evening came and Moondog got a message from Astral (the first one since her hiring), she reflexively slipped it a ways down her Important Things list. After all, if it was important, the Princess of Dreams would take care of it.
It took her a little while (that was still too long) to remember that she was the Princess of Dreams now. Mom was relaxing in some seaside village. This was the kind of thing she needed to look at ASAP, just in case.
notify(self.getSpellMessages(), sm);
Especially since, she belatedly realized, Astral had literally no other way to contact her.
wellBooger(); readSpellMessage(sm);
Your Nibs, You got a letter today. Some stallion named Pin Tumbler wants to guarantee that you won’t go poking around in his dreams. Says he likes his privacy. I’ve got more info here. Astral
self.setLocation(self.astralMind.getLocation());
Moondog blipped over to Astral’s dream, a seaside where the fish were relaxing on the beach in swimsuits. Astral was sitting at a picnic table and staring at a glass. Every now and then, the glass would fill with something that looked like water, Astral would take a sip, she’d grimace, and she’d dump the not-water out as best she could.
“Hey,” Moondog said, flowing into a seat opposite Astral. “Working with dream magic?”
Astral didn’t look up. “Yeah. You were taking your sweet time.”
“Which I don’t really have an excuse for, sorry.”
“Heh. I’ll hold on to that.” Astral sat upright. “So, Your Dreaminess, Pin Tumbler.”
“Pin Tumbler,” Moondog said, nodding. “Anything unusual about the letter?”
“Not beyond the whole thing of, ‘Hey, you know that thing you were made for? Yeah, don’t do that.’ And it’s really…” Astral made a circular gesture. “…confident you’ll stay away? Arrogant? I don’t know, it’s kinda hard to say. Give me a sec, I can…” She flicked her hoof and snatched a scroll from nothing. “Here. The guy’s letter, best as I can remember it.” She tossed it at Moondog. “You know, I never imagined just how much we needed a better system than me memorizing junk before tonight. What if I memorize the wrong thing, or my memory gets skewed, or…”
Moondog tuned her out as she grabbed the scroll with her mane and unrolled it. (They really did need a better system, though.)
Princess Moondog,
Although Luna’s role in protecting Equestria’s dreams is traditional, traditions always become outdated, sooner or later. Today’s society is far more protective of what is theirs and does not believe that the Princesses have any right to it simply because they are princesses. And with the recent shift in power, this is a perfect opportunity to discard some of the older traditions.
Simply put, I do not wish to allow you to rifle around inside my head. My thoughts are my own and I want them to stay that way. Stay out of my dreams. I do not care how legal it is; I value my privacy.
Pin Tumbler
Hmm. Not even a little word salad. Astral was really-
“Hey, Sandmare,” said Astral suddenly. “While you’re here, any chance you can whip me up something sweet? Prison dessert tastes worse than prison main course.”
c = new Cake(FLAVOR.Chocolate);
“Knock yourself out,” Moondog said, gesturing to the cake on the table.
“Can’t. I’m already unconscious,” said Astral. She dug in anyway.
Moondog looked over the letter again. “You weren’t kidding about the confidence,” she said.
“Eye voaw, wight?” said Astral through a mouthful of cake. Swallow. “But maybe it’s bluster. You know, he’s scared out of his mind, so he thrusts out his chest and puts on a show and talks the biggest game he can, like that’ll make you more likely to do whatever. Or maybe he’s just stupid.”
“Probably stupid,” admitted Moondog. She hadn’t been in the public eye enough to garner much of a reputation, so some ponies, social animals that they were, might see that as a sign of weakness and social anxiety (and, okay, they’d be right about the last one, but still) that could be bullied into submission. That would conveniently ignore the fact that she was still the Princess of Dreams. “Stupid” was quite likely.
“Plus, he might be doing it now because you seem kinda… chalanceless. Not like Luna.” Astral took another bite of cake. “Luva waff pwevvy fcawy.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, or I’ll take it away.”
“Nohved.” Astral swallowed. “So, whatcha gonna do?”
“Not go into his dreams.”
“What, just like that?” Astral’s ears twitched. “Huh. If I’d known all I needed to do to keep the princesses off my back was ask nicely, I’d’ve done that ages ago.”
scroll.highlight(relevantPassage);
“I mean…” Moondog held up the scroll as the words I value my privacy glowed. “Is he wrong, here?”
“…No, it’s just…” Astral’s voice trailed off. After a moment, she shrugged. “Iunno.”
“Although there are a few more matters that need to be covered. Me making good dreams isn’t just a luxury, and he needs a face-to-face conversation for that.”
Astral made a Face. “You’re not gonna send the convict, are you?”
“No,” said Moondog. “That’s not what I hired you for.”
“Oh thank Celestia,” breathed Astral.
“Besides, it’s… There’s a lot I need to talk about in here and I don’t want to bog you down with memorizing all the talking points.” Moondog looked at the scroll one last time, then tossed it away. “Thanks for letting me know. It wasn’t any trouble getting it, was it?”
“Not really. I was told I had some mail, I saw that it was addressed to you, and I went ahead with technically committing a felony by opening somepony else’s mail. And before you say anything, the Equestrian Postal Inspection Service has a higher conviction rate than the Royal Bureau of Investigation, so I had to watch out.”
“It’s not illegal if that’s your job.” Although…
noteToSelf("look up EPIS and RBI conviction rates");Astral grinned. “Yeah, but that’s not as fun.”
“True that.” Moondog threw Astral a casual salute. “Be seeing you.”
Pin Tumbler lived alone in a quiet neighborhood a few miles south of Spurkane. Around seven PM seemed a good time to stop by, after dinner with nothing much to do except laze around. (Right? Dagnabbit, why hadn’t she learned pony schedules beyond “asleep at night”?) And so it was that Moondog blipped out of the air onto a doorstep in that quiet neighborhood a few miles south of Spurkane at around seven PM. Quietly; no sense in making a spectacle out of it.
She ran a hoof through her mane. How did she look? Normal. Normal for her, anyway, which was abnormal for ponies. She could make herself look normal for ponies — but maybe that would be bad for her? She’d be undercutting who she was… which she might want if she wanted Tumbler to not spend the entire meeting boggling at her, considering she was a princess making a house call. (She needed a courier. Why did this have to come when her only direct employee was in jail? Dangit, more searching for workers.) But weren’t dreams supposed to be boggled at? And she was here to talk about dreams, so it’d be fitting… Too fitting, maybe, since this was about her not being in dreams, so-
Moondog short-circuited all of that by deciding she’d just be her usual self. And if that alarmed anypony, tough tooties. This was hard enough without constantly worrying about how you looked and adjusting yourself to be juuuuuust right.
…Dang, no wonder Aunt Celly hated makeup.
She knocked a few times on the door. No need to barge in, even if you could. The door wasn’t opened immediately, but that was nothing. He was just busy with something. She could wait.
And wait.
And wait.
…Okay, maybe she couldn’t wait that well. Sun blast it, what was the proper door-knock protocol if the door wasn’t answered quickly? Knock again immediately? In a minute? Five minutes? How many times did she have to knock before deciding that the pony wasn’t there and she ought to try again later? Stupid ponies and their stupid unwritten rules. Moondog raised her hoof, paused, lowered it, paused, raised it again, lowered it again without pausing, rustled her wings, wondered if it really mattered all that much because she was a princess, decided it mattered at least a little because she didn’t want to be impolite, flicked her tail, wondered if it’d be best if-
The door was yanked open, a twentysomething unicorn stallion with thick legs and an awful lot of feathering above his hooves standing beyond. “Sorry,” he said gruffly, “but I was in the middle… of…” His voice trailed off as his brain caught up with his eyes. Once he realized just who was standing on his doorstep, the stallion went so still it was like he’d been petrified. His slate-gray coat didn’t help.
“Hi!” said Moondog, waving. “Pin Tumbler, right?”
The stallion’s high-pitched “yes” nearly left the audible spectrum.
“Great! Princess Moondog.” She flared her wings slightly and bowed. “Just to make things clear, I’m, uh, still new at this, so if things get weird, it’s almost definitely my fault.”
Tumbler remained silent. And still. Very still. After a moment, Moondog put a hoof in front of his nose. Thankfully, she could still feel him breathing. “Um. Hey,” she said. “I, okay, I know what I just said, but this right here? This is your fault, okay?” She clicked her tongue a few times. No response. “I’m just here to talk, so if you lock up like that, it’s kinda hard to do much.” It was a shame that, once you left Ponyville or Canterlot, ponies just got weird over the slightest thing outside their usual experiences. You’d think they’d never seen an etheric golem before. She gave him a smack that was as light as could be while still technically being a smack.
That seemed to work. Tumbler spasmed and took three steps back, his ears flat and his eyes huge. “Y-Your Highness, I- I promise, I m-meant no disrespect-”
“Good thing, ’cause if you were trying to disrespect me, you did a pretty weak job,” Moondog said with a laugh. “No, I’m not here because I’m… insulted or anything. It’s just… this is a more complicated issue than just me staying out of your dreams.”
“Ah,” squeaked Tumbler. He looked ready to take another step back.
“We’ll need to talk about this. Is this a bad time? If it’s not, want me to stay out here, or can I come in?”
“I- Uh- Come in!” squawked Tumbler. “No trouble, no trouble at all! Can, can I get you something?” He stepped to the side and waved Moondog in, smiling a “please don’t smite me” smile.
“No, thanks,” Moondog said as she strode inside. “I’m good.”
She settled into a chair in the living room. Nice place, with overstuffed cushions and clean rugs, although it was more than a bit light on decorations. Tumbler stayed in the doorway, staring at Moondog. “Y-your Highness,” he said slowly, “if you… n-needed to talk, we… could’ve… done this i-in… dreams.”
“But you said you wanted me to stay out,” said Moondog.
Tumbler went expressionless, like he didn’t know what to do with his face. “I… did…”
“And there are less ponies sleeping now, so there’ll be less of a need for me to catch up once we’re done.” Moondog grinned. “Everypony wins!” Except her — reality still sucked — but she wasn’t a pony. Best to not guilt-trip her subjects, though.
A wheezing squeak managed to escape Tumbler’s mouth. It took Moondog a moment to realize it was a ludicrously forced laugh. He inched towards the chair furthest from Moondog and didn’t “sit down” so much as “collapse into it”.
A courier. If only to minimize ponies freaking out, she needed a courier. A courier who knew the ins and outs of onieroturgy and its moral implications. That was one of the downsides of being at the top of your game: no one else could talk about it as well as you could. (Mom, being retired, didn’t count.)
“So.” Moondog settled a little more deeply into the chair. (It was a very comfy chair.) “You said you didn’t want me in your dreams because of privacy.”
Tumbler nodded jerkily. “It’s- Your Highness- I just-” It was like he’d had a big speech memorized, only to forget it the second he hesitated (and he was hesitating about once every five or six seconds). He took a deep breath and the words spilled out. “I’m- not exactly- comfortable with- traditions being- kept on just because they’re… traditions. I… want my mind to stay mine.”
Moondog nodded. “Understandable.”
Tumbler blinked and loosened up very slightly. With that loosening, he started talking more. “And you, you have to understand, it’s not that I’m, um, hiding something, it’s, it’s just that-”
He snapped his mouth shut when Moondog held up a hoof. “Look, I get it,” she said. “People put their blinds down at night. Doesn’t mean they’re up to something sinister. But…” She paused and put her hooves together. “There’s more out there than just me. All kinds of little monsters that make and feed on nightmares. One of the main reasons I go into ponies’ dreams is to keep those things out, and if it ever comes around that I’m staying away from you, your mind might be an all-you-can-eat buffet for them. And if something else comes along…”
“Ah,” Tumbler said delicately, his face whitening. “That’s… um…”
“So what we really need is something that keeps them and me out at the same time,” Moondog said. “But assuming that’s even possible, it’ll take a while to make, since Mom’s kinda the only pony who’s put significant work into dream magic over the past millennium. And that’s a millennium she spent most of the time gone, remember.”
Tumbler’s chuckle was weak, but a bit less so than it had once been.
“And that’s assuming we can get it down to something reasonable. I’m pretty sure you don’t want some two-story-high, smoke-spewing, arcane engine sitting outside your house.”
“Well, you can’t be in my dreams if I have no dreams,” said Tumbler tentatively.
Moondog chuckled. “I know, right?” (Tumbler actually managed to smile a little.) “But let’s say we can get all that working in the way we want. Then… yeah, I’d be fine with that.”
Tumbler’s ears twitched upwards. “You would?”
“I’m not the thought police. I just keep things from eating your dreams, and this would prevent anything from doing that, so, no, no problems. It wouldn’t do anything for nightmares from your own subconscious, but you probably don’t mind, right?”
“That’s…” Tumbler nodded slowly. “I… think I’d be okay with that, yes.”
“So let’s do that. I’ll get some ponies working on it and let you know what we come up with. And you know what?” Moondog added as a brainwave hit. “How about this: I stay out of your dreams anyway, starting tonight. You write to me in… a week, telling me what sort of nightmares you’ve had, if any. Just as an experiment, to see what Equestria’s nightscape is like for a random pony. It’s hard to get a good view of the world when it’s wrapped around your hoof. And if you forget, no hard feelings.”
“I’ll… try to remember that, but…” Tumbler let out a long breath. “Thank you. I, um, I actually realized what I’d sounded like, but the letter was already sent, and…”
“Mistakes were made,” Moondog said vaguely. She suspected that that was actually a lie made by a professional butt-coverer surprised his bluff had been called, but there really wasn’t any point in pursuing it any further. “I’d say I have thick skin, but, well, look at me. I don’t have skin to begin with.” She leaned forward and flexed her wings. Reality ached, sitting still in it for too long even moreso. “So do you have any problems with this arrangement? Anything I haven’t brought up yet?”
“Um, no, nonono, you’re fine,” said Tumbler quickly. “I… I never imagined… You’re fine. Go.”
“Alright.” Moondog hopped out of the chair and made for the front door. “Sorry for intruding and thank you for your time.”
“Thanks for… understanding.”
As soon as she was off the bottom step, Moondog turned around. “I’d say I’ll see you around, but that’s what you don’t want, right?” She laughed and saluted. “Adios, amigo.” And she was gone.
Did she need to give her employees a heads-up? Well, probably not, but it was polite. That night, Moondog blipped over to Astral’s dream and prodded the outside of the bubble Astral was floating around in. “Hey, Astral?”
Astral managed to turn over to look at Moondog. “Yeah, Your Dreaminess?” she asked, her voice muffled slightly.
“Just FYI, I talked with Tumbler, and-”
“Huh?” Astral tried pushing herself up, only to slip down the side of the bubble. She tried again, slid down again, tried again-
bubble.setFriction(100.0);
-and managed to stand up. She gave Moondog a look normally reserved for ponies who thought you put grapes in spaghetti sauce. “You what?” said Astral flatly.
“Just talked to him!” said Moondog. “Like I said I-”
“What, yesterday?”
“Well, yeah! When else would I do it?”
“After trading letters a bit so that you don’t give the guy a heart attack by literally appearing on his doorstep with no warning?”
--Error; InterruptedThoughtException e
idiots.add(self);“…Ai yai yai,” mumbled Moondog, planting her face in her hooves. “I’m stupid.”
“Yep.”
Mom had given Moondog a thorough rundown of what to expect when being a princess, but there were just so many things to remember, it was easy for something to slip through the cracks. On both sides of the conversation; obviously, Moondog could forget things, but there were also the minor things it’d be a good idea to learn but Mom never brought up because they were so second-nature to her she forgot that they needed to be learned in the first place. And this wasn’t anything like Twilight and her friends, where a princess barging in on afternoon tea was simply cause to offer her some Trottingham biscuits before getting down to business. Ah, well, live and learn. At least this wasn’t that big of a deal.
“Anyway…” Moondog straightened up and flexed her wings as the stars in her cheeks redshifted. “I, uh, talked to him, agreed to stay out of his dreams and he’s gonna try to remember to send me letters about his nightmares or lack thereof so I can get something of an idea of what Equestria’s dream life is like for the average pony.”
“Ah, yes,” said Astral airily, “the ever-predictive one-data-point experiment.”
“It’s better than zero.”
“Not by much.”
“Which still isn’t zero, so I’ll take it. Anyway, yeah, you might start getting weekly letters from him about that. Also, I may or may not be working on a magical doodad that keeps things like nocnice out of ponies’ heads so they’re not left helpless when I stop going in, so I might need you to send out some letters to researchers in the future.”
Astral’s eyes briefly glinted and she opened her mouth slightly. Then she snapped it shut. The dream around her rippled; Moondog stilled it with a slight twist. Astral opened her mouth again, but rather than what Moondog expected, she said, “Do you- have a name for it yet?”
“Not yet. Never really thought about it. Why, do you?”
“Dreamlock,” Astral said promptly. “It keeps you out like a lock on a door. Dreamlock.”
“Oh, nice. Stealing that.”
project.setName("dreamlock");Astral gave a little mock salute. “Glad to provide, Your Nibs. I’m happy to see Equestria’s new leadership is so morally upstanding.”
“I know, right? No one’s gone crazy and tried to wreck the natural order yet! It’s a miracle!”
A snort. “And I’ll do my part to prevent the apocalypse by being sure you get your mail.”
“Having to go into reality every day would probably drive me mad, so… yeah, you are. Anyway, that’s it, just a heads-up. You don’t need to do anything yet, but keep an eye out.”
“Not like I have anything better to do,” Astral said with a shrug, “what with being in prison and all.”
“Perfect. That’s the spirit!”
And so the nights went on. No more letters. Including, Moondog was very slightly annoyed to note, any about Tumbler’s nightmares. After accounting for likely letter travel time, unlikely letter travel time on the long side, and a bit more just in case, she wrote him a gentle reminder in dead-tree format. If she was lucky, it’d reach him on a Friday and jog his memory for the weekend. If it didn’t, oh well. She’d just need to get more formal about this sort of experiment. It also gave her some time to think about the dreamlock and what sorts of ponies were needed for it. Kind of a short list, given that at least one pony needed to have experience with oneiroturgy. And then, one night, just as she was getting started on Manehattan-
notify(self.getSpellMessages(), sm);
notify(self.getSpellMessages(), sm1);
notify(self.getSpellMessages(), sm2);
notify(self.getSpellMessages(), sm3);
--Error; WaitWhatException e
notify(self.getSpellMessages(), sm4);
sm.getSender();
return: "Astral Mind"
sm1.getSender();
return: "Astral Mind"
notify(self.getSpellMessages(), sm5);
self.setStatus(Annoyed.SOMEWHAT);
self.notificationsOff();
sm2.getSender();
return: "Astral Mind"
self.setStatus(Annoyed.VERY);
self.setLocation(astralMind.getLocation());“WHAT?” Moondog roared in Astral’s ear.
Astral yelped and jumped, clinging to the stalagmite above them (not stalactite, incidentally). “Don’t do that!” she yelled.
Moondog rotated the cave so everything was right-side up. “Then give me five seconds to answer a letter before pounding me with a rainstorm of mail!” she responded. “Seriously, five literal seconds!” She squished the stalagmite flat so Astral was sitting in front of her. “Or is the world going to end and you’re the only one who knows?”
“Okay, so I overreacted,” Astral said dismissively. “But I, look, this is important. Not world-endingly, but it’s about Pin Tumbler.”
“Really?” Moondog leaned forward a little and her wings twitched out. “Did he finally send a record of his nightmares?” She didn’t think her letter had reached him yet, but Equestria’s postal system employed some… memorable ponies. Maybe they were memorable in her favor.
But Astral shook her head. “No, nothing like that. He, uh, he… kinda robbed a bank in Seaddle.”
--Error; InterruptedThoughtException eWell. Uh. That escalated quickly. “What?” Moondog asked, her voice low. “He… Seriously?”
“It was in the papers,” Astral said. She was talking faster than usual and gesturing animatedly; vague, shadowy shapes flickered around them as her thoughts became strong enough to influence the dream with no conscious effort. “The biggest one-pony robbery in Equestria. He pretended he was going to rent a security deposit box or something to get into the vault, where he subdued the guards. Then he hung a ‘Closed’ sign on the door so he had plenty of time to break into the deposit boxes. He made off with nearly a million bits, but the cops caught up to him the next day as he was trying to leave for Spurkane. Or, or something like that, I can’t remember the details. I almost forgot about it when I read it in the papers, but then I recognized his name, and… Well, how many Pin Tumblers are there in that part of Equestria?”
“There’s a Wafer Tumbler, but I don’t think they’re related.”
Astral rocked back and forth; the shadows flipped through different blueprint-esque designs. “No offense, but…” She lowered her voice, as if they could be overheard. “How much you wanna bet he was worried you might see something in his dreams and catch on, and that was why he wanted to keep you out?”
“Nothing. Bets are for when the situation is unknown, and I can pretty much guarantee that that’s the case.” That very situation had happened before, when Moondog was younger, stupider, and less public. It wasn’t the kind of thing she did anymore, but still. The precedent existed.
And it was a bit of a quandary, in some ways. Because if you walked in on the dreams of somepony who was planning on doing something bad, what did you do? Let that something bad happen? Or notify the authorities and violate the dreamer’s privacy? Mom was of the opinion that Moondog ought to leave it alone: You are arbiter of the dream realm, not the physical one. The average pony cannot control what they dream. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but every part of life — organic and oneiric alike — had those. She wasn’t enforcing any laws, she was making good dreams.
Maybe that ought to be formalized.
“And before you ask,” said Astral, “no, I don’t remember enough of the article to pull it up. Just that he was caught red-hoofed. You weren’t mentioned at all.”
“I see. Well, I guess this means we have a longer timetable for the dreamlock,” Moondog said nonchalantly.
Astral snorted. “That’s one way to put it.”
Moondog blinked and cocked her head. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.
Apparently unconsciously, Astral mimicked the motion exactly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We… have a longer timetable? For the dreamlock? Because he’s going to jail so it’s not as urgent?”
Astral boggled. “You mean you’re still working on it?”
Sometimes, Moondog hated sarcasm. You could be totally, completely, soul-baringly honest, and everyone would miss your point because it was slightly unusual and they concluded you were being sarcastic. “He asked for something that would guarantee I wouldn’t enter his dreams.”
“Yeah, in case he dreamt something about the robbery while you were there!”
“And would a model citizen who asked for it be wrong?”
“Well-” Astral folded one of her ears back. “It’s- He-” She opened her mouth, but didn’t say anything. “…Huh.”
“Sure, he wanted it for the wrong reasons, but his conclusion was still valid. If he didn’t do it, somepony else who was genuine probably would’ve.”
Moondog settled onto a nonexistent chair. “See, I’m in a… bit of a strange position. I make good dreams for ponies, but, yeah, it requires going into their heads, and some ponies won’t like that. So what happens when ponies start getting nightmares about me doing-” A mustache burst onto her face and she twirled it. “-something nefarious in their minds? Technically, I’m part of the problem and, well, I don’t like that. So at the very least, I can give them the security of knowing I’m not in there at all.”
“Is that… really that big a deal?” asked Astral, tilting her head. “If they have nothing to hide-”
Moondog waved a hoof dismissively. “Moot point already. Everyone has something to hide and no one cares. You got anything you’re embarrassed by?”
“Besides my very public past of being in a cult? …Yeah.”
“So you’ve got something to hide. Now, maybe that ‘something’ is just nicking a candy bar when you were fourteen. It’s not that harmful if it gets out, but you still don’t want it getting out, right? It’s the principle of the thing.”
“Right, yeah,” muttered Astral. “It’s…” She twisted a few strands of her mane around a hoof. “You’re actively making things harder for you. You’re a princess, you shouldn’t have to…”
Moondog shrugged. “It’s not like I’m an authority like Twilight, Mom, or Aunt Celly; there’s nothing it’s against the law to dream. Except in weird cases like the Eschaton, I’m just a civil servant, a night janitor. Honestly, I really should be Steward of Dreams rather than Princess of Dreams. Oh, well. Stupid ponies and your stupid traditional titles.”
Astral nodded slowly. She looked off to the side, moving her jaw back and forth. Why did ponies have thinking tics like that? Imagine needing to do something physical to perform a mental action (like unicorns straining to cast complicated spells). “You know,” Astral said eventually, “I’m really glad you’re the one handling all this and not me, Your Highness.”
“Eh.” Moondog shrugged again. “It’s a living. Except I’m not being paid and I need literally nothing to keep existing except for dream energy which I can get just fine living in here without doing anything for anypony, so it’s not a living at all.” It was kind of amazing how many idioms broke when you changed the species of the speaker. “Besides, somebody’s gotta do it.”
“Better attitude than I’d ever have.”
“Maybe. Anyway, night’s underway and I gotta get going. Anything else, or was this it?”
Astral shook her head. “No, this was it. I’ll let you know if any other semi-dream-related stuff like this comes up in the future. And, uh, could you keep me updated on the dreamlock? I’m… kinda interested in where it goes.”
“Of course. Be seeing you, thanks for the update, and keep up the good work.” Moondog saluted and slipped away into the aether.
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With a name like Pin Tumbler, this all made sense.
But he could've just been a locksmith and stuff...
"Dreamlock", being inspired by a lock-guy. Sensible.
Nice thoughts in all this!
You'd think that a world with a wider variety of sapient species would have that happen less often, but we don't live in such a world and most of our writers don't stop to think about it.
11016248
Honestly, my very first thought. Was starting to doubt myself until... yeah.
Awesome chapter. Nice slice of "life" for Moondog, which is always a treat. As is the Equestrian government stuff. Love it!
Citizens getting tired of the status quo and the Princesses diminishing their own authority to accommodate them... Why do I get the feeling that some flaw or side effect in those dreamlock things messes with pony subconsciouses and leads to either the slow decline or catastrophic event that ended Equestria and led to G5?
nice idea for a project even if the originally asker was a very bad person.
No, fuck you. Do you want thought police?
Because THAT is how you get though police!
i HATE that argument with the heat of a thousand s[o/u]ns!
… interesting problem
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Apple claims to be backing away from the photo-scanning kiddy-p0rn detector, and cities are banning facial recognition cameras and gunshot detectors.
But once the technology exists (even if it doesn't work 90% of the time), you can bet that no law will keep the pigs from quietly deploying it en mass with no oversight for "national security." Snowden deserves a medal, and the entire NSA needs to be prosecuted and blacklisted for wiping their asses with the 4th and 5th amendments for decades.
https://supporters.eff.org/donate/donate-eff-0
There are 4 obvious solutions:
1. Lie. Say that you don't look, look anyway. Dangerous, but efficient. Can become a scandal.
2. Compromise. Put everyone who requested privacy in the list. Check everyone after unsolvable case appears. For efficiency, maybe even mind read. Put that into an agreement contract.
3. Do nothing. Ignore threats. Because this is indeed a thought police, and is essentially unethical. Self-harming choice, however.
4. Suppress with authority. Shut up, puny mortal. It's for your own good. Technically, correct. (Best kind of correct.) Can only be replaced by better alternative in nightmare protection.
Honestly, saw Pin Tumblr having nefarious reasons for wanting Moondog out of his head coming from a mile away. Still an awesome chapter, though. I also love how Astral followed through with calling Moondog 'Your Nibs'.
Another great chapter, as usual.:D
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I was thinking more of a guy doing professional bowling ^^;;;;
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Hmm that is NOT understanding how the system in apple child porn recognition worked.
I get a hit of dopamine when I see an update to this fic got released
Definitely the most dreamy title in Equestria's history.
🎶 I'm Pin Tumbler! I could have been a locksmith! But the are no locks that need unlocking, there's the rub. There's the rub, there's the rub...
Dreaminess is now best pet name!
Well, I'm glad at the conclusion Moondog came to, even against the "worst case scenario" of the requester being a criminal.
SPURKANE
♥️
Pin Tumbler needs to made an example of. 1 law I could easily see him having broken (if unofficial) is intentionally lying directly to a Princess and subvert authority in order to commit a crime, and in this one, a fairly major one.
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Every. Single. Time. There's always a manufactured crisis to put up an authoritarian police state. There's a depression going on? We have to implement Socialism and tax everyone to pay for our Welfare state. Oh, a couple gangsters use automatic weapons? Better take away most gun rights and tax the poor. A couple Muslims fly planes into buildings? Better spy on every American. There's an outbreak of some bio-engineered virus from a hostile foreign entity? We better keep everybody forced into their homes on penalty of jail time and take away bodily autonomy.
"There's also Gin Tumbler, but she happily found her calling as a bartender."
I wonder whether Equestrian law enforcement is allowed to cite only a pony's name as sufficient probable cause to issue a warrant. Because I foresaw that ending for Pin Tumbler as soon as the letter was revealed.
Ooh, it's wonderful to see this updated! And interesting to see Moondog handling new conundrums. I do like the conclusion she came to, even if the specific request was for nefarious purposes. Also, Pin Tumbler is still an idiot for drawing attention to himself, in my opinion. He's lucky Moondog decided to listen instead of seeing why exactly he was so arrogantly making that request...
Ah, and his name suddenly makes sense...a Pin Tumbler, robbing a bank...
Good to see that Astral is working well with Moondog, and that she's still calling her "Your Nibs". I wonder how many other employees Moondog may or may not get, especially with several creatures already being trained personally by her...looking forward to seeing this fic go on!
Interesting to see how much Moondog has evolved on privacy. This chapter also makes me think about Namism. It seemed pretty obvious to me what Pin Tumbler was up to because of his name, but nopony in the story seemed to guess it. Then again, ponies keep buying things from Flim and Flam. Maybe ponies have a weird blind spot.
Privacy opt-out options are a nice thought, even if the inspiration is dubious. Let’s just hope Moondog doesn’t accidentally create a daughter of her own in the process. That’s the opposite of solving that particular problem.
So the mysterious pony's name is Pin Tumbler? Let's see.... (Looks up on Wikipedia)
Oh.... I see. So that's why the pony wanted Moondog to stay out his dreams. I was suspicious at first, but I dismissed my suspicions and thought Pin Tumbler was just an incredibly shy pony.
OK, Moondog needs to get together with Luna, and get it through her(Moondog's) skull that while privacy is good, illegal actions, that come suddenly, and COULD have been prevented by spying - kinda make this argument null. I knew something was fishy when he asked to have his dreams to himself. AT first I thought that hemight have had some dirty dreams about being really close with someone, especially maybe with royalty. But after seeing that he didn't send a single letter? Ho, boy, this thing could have been nipped in the bud, if Moony moon looked into it.
Love this chapter.
Its like a reversal of a previous chapter where Moondog went into the dream of a gang planning an armed robbery.
I kind of left MLP, but I’m still reading this. It’s just to awesome to stop.
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I'm pretty sure that's the same logic the NSA uses to justify putting holes in encryption and spying on everyone.
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NSA deals MAINY with foreign factor. And time where technological difference mattered is long gone, so they ensure that they don't create weapons for their enemy. The homeland security though...