Diaries of an Equestrian Overlord

by KitsuneRisu

27th February

6.42 PM

I have just returned from the local Canterlot Orphanage, where once a year, I go to pledge a small tiny scratch of my vast wealth for the enrichment and betterment of these poor abandoned children.

I don't see what's so special, honestly. I never knew my parents either. And look, I'm princess.

But nowadays it's just a thing, and they really like to make a big deal out of not abandoning your children.

My advisors have told me that it would be a good show of faith for my empire if I were to show my support and dedication in the care of these abandoned children, as well as funding literature to caution Ponies who wish to have babies and then throw them away afterward.

My original thought was that if I keep giving them so much money, would that not just encourage this behaviour to grow because, hey, there's a backup, and the Princess is dishing out for it!

But apparently that's not how it is, according to these 'experts' that I pay to tell me things. So I'll humour them.

I make all my money back from the Gala anyway, so really, they're paying for it, as well as my new wardrobe, and extensions to my castle.

Every year I get to 'adopt' a child, in spirit, and I get to be special benefactor to their lives if I so choose. Usually every year I go down and check out hopefuls for magic, but that was before I met Twilight, so recently I have just been putting them through school or giving them food or whatever they need.

I wonder if this is not disheartening the other Ponies a little, as if having the right to live needs to be a competition. Is it fair to have a system whereby some are preferred over the other by mere chance, and others by looks and first impressions alone?

This is a common thing in our society, true, but as adults we are built to tolerate it, and children should never, ever have to go through all these kinds of hardships at such an early age.

The worst thing, ever, is to have to please your adoptive parents. I have been around a few times when the young Ponies are lined up against a wall and have to be looked over and chosen as if they were fruit in a bin. There is no dignity for them, and there is no true sense of being or belonging. All they are are items, and the perspective of perfection is forced upon them at a time in their lives when they cannot well comprehend or accept this.

It is a harsh life for an orphan, and we, as responsible adults of a thinking, concerned society, should never ever be bearing of what should be considered a horrendous crime against the core of Humanity.

Gosh, that was good.

When my mind is in the right spot it can really come up with some great stuff.

I will definitely use that for my next public speech, I'm fairly sure it will fare better amongst my advisors than last year's "Burn them all, they're better off dead" idea.

But it has the same sentiment at heart, so I don't know.

Anyway, today I was looking through the list of hopefuls, and I was to pick one out to be my beneficiary. As I was eyeing through the chart, I noticed a poor little Pony.

She was merely 8 years old, a precious thing, white skin, fair eyes and long flowing hair just like mine. She reminded me of what I might have been in my youth. I called the child to my side and found out more about her.

She had been orphaned due to unfortunate circumstances. It was not the cause of an irresponsible parent or a careless surrogate, but rather, a victim of the world.

Her parents had, tragically, passed away in a fire that hit her house just within the last 6 months, and she was full of grief as she told me how she watched her parents get engulfed by smoke and flames, unable to do anything from where she stood outside her home.

The FirePonies arrived just too late, and she was taken away before she could see the damage.

She still imagines them alive, she told me, calling out her name. Seabiscuit, she was named, after a famous racer whom her parents were fans of back in their day.

It was just such a heart wrenching story that she was undoubtedly the one I would help.

In my generosity, I had her name officially changed from Seabiscuit to Ocean Waffle, which solves that tragedy nicely.

Comments

[SWEETOLEBOB18]

The worst thing, ever, is to have to please your adoptive parents. I have been around a few times when the young Ponies are lined up against a wall and have to be looked over and chosen as if they were fruit in a bin. There is no dignity for them, and there is no true sense of being or belonging. All they are are items, and the perspective of perfection is forced upon them at a time in their lives when they cannot well comprehend or accept this.