RoMS' Extravaganza

by RoMS

Jun.-Jul. 20 - When The End Came To Town 3.2

Luster stared at nothing. Much better than looking dumbfounded at that pink ball of nervous enthusiasm, and her painfully beaming smile. And because looking away didn’t hide its brightfulness enough… Luster shut her eyes, hard. For good measure, she dropped her face in her hooves.

Breathe in, breathe out, Luster. Breathe in. Breath–

Luster’s body stung with a furious envy to run out, back to Canterlot. She didn’t care if the cushions her withers had sunk into were comfortable. And damn Teacher Twilight, she hadn’t taught her teleportation yet.

Everything she’d heard so far about this Ponyville story was weird — heck, it was downright incomprehensible. And Pinkie’s story didn’t help at all.

Why was she, Luster Dawn, here? She found herself asking that again. Not the first time that afternoon, and certainly not the last time. She was betting on it. So, yeah, why did Luster Dawn have to listen to those earth ponies again? She couldn’t even invent a proper reason. Damn that town, damn them, damn her teacher.

No, Luster! That’s Pinkie Pie. Just Pinkie Pie… You know Pinkie Pie. She’s Teacher Twilight’s funniest — cringiest and wall-crawling — friend. Stop. Breathe. And breathe even harder again.

A long ponderous moment passed before Luster finally opened her eyes, a drawn-out sigh on her lips.

“Can you translate?” she whinied at Cheerilee, trying not to cause herself an aneurism by pressing her two hooves into her temples and skull. “What’s a doozy, even?”

If she had Teacher Twilight under her hoof, Luster would be asking her how she’d dealt with Pinkie in the past instead. Well… Not dealt, endured. That was, of course, if her mighty alicorn Self was there to share her survival tips. But Teacher Twilight definitely wasn’t. And so Luster only had a pair of earth ponies for help. One teacher, but not her teacher, and an old mare…

Luster wanted advice and she only got short answers: Cheerilee’s snicker, Mare’s click of her tongue, and Pinkie’s clueless smile.

Let it go; Luster got the message.

And it wasn’t helping. Like, at all.

“It’s hard to explain,” Mare finally said, prompting Luster to look up from her hooves, her jaw clenched tight. The old mare cleared her throat, pinched her lips, and blew her cheeks. Silence followed. Even Mare seemed to struggle making sense of the pink hurricane by her side.

Luster meanwhile would be drumming her hooves if she had a desk to lean on.

“Can you help me out, Pinkie?” Mayor sighed, her shoulders drooping in defeat.

“They’re hunches,” Pinkie explained, a hoof on her chin. She giggled, and glanced at the ceiling — as if the right words were printed there. “It just tingles sometimes, somewhere, you know. And when it happens, I know something will happen. Well, likely happen. That’s all.”

“Likely?” Cheerilee asked, an eyebrow raised as she leaned forward to catch a better glimpse of Pinkie’s hesitant smile. “The Pinkie I know wouldn’t mess up a doozy.”

“Eh,” Pinkie replied, waving her hoof dismissively. “I’m older now, and not as sharp as I was before. I got sweeter and mellowed, in a sense.” Pinkie poked her chub. “Case in point.”

“Speaking of old, Pinkie. I am not that old,” Mare said. And three pairs of eyes locked on her. She bit her lips, rolled her eyes, and scrunched up. She turned to Cheerilee and jabbed her hoof in her side. “Come on, hun. Pinkie did say I was old... Can’t you help?”

Cheerilee threw her head back against the sofa’s headrest, and laughed. “You’re digging your own grave on that one.”

“Right.” Mare sighed and hung her head low, only looking askance at Pinkie Pie, that damn erratic storyteller. “Alright, I wasn’t that old, Pinkie.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Let’s rewind a bit, please,” Luster cut, motioning for silence, instantly granted by the three older mares. She pointed her hoof at Pinkie. “So. You’re a seer?”

“Come again? A what now?” Pinkie asked.

“Ahem, let’s try not to get into the details,” Cheerilee said, coughing in her hoof. “You don’t want to go that route this early in the afternoon. It drove Twilight crazy once. Let’s not do that again.”

“Oh, I can totally explain again!” Pinkie offered. “I–”

Mare’s hoof closed Pinkie’s lips shut.

“Ah, come on,” Luster protested, huffing a strand of mane off her face as she struggled to find a way out of her cushions. Once done, she slammed her hooves against the carpet. “I’m sure there’s a rational explanation to th–”

Luster was often oblivious, and she knew it. But it was hard not to get the warning when both Cheerilee and Mare slowly shook their heads in unison, eyes wide and staring. Pinkie bit on her lips to repress a laugh, her back end writhing on the sofa. She definitely wanted to speak, and was fighting the urge. So. Damn. Hard.

“Alright, anyway,” Luster acknowledged in defeat, hanging her head low and falling back into her soft pillows, “let’s focus on this weird story instead. A black ball that ate Twilight’s castle? What about it? I mean, it’s like a Monday, or a Tuesday in Canterlot. Accidents happen right? ... Right?”

The three mares exchanged glances. Then sighs flew like bullets.

“Remember we said it took about two years for power to be handed out to Twilight?” Mare said.

“Yeah. Duh. You said that like thirty minutes ago.”

“Well, there is a reason…”

“Alright. Let’s hold it there,” Luster said after a long, vocal grunt. “I’m a bit disappointed, not going to lie.” She threw her legs above her head and stretched, her shoulders giving a satisfying pop. As three questioning stares answered her, she rolled her eyes. “Yeah. You know. Teacher Twilight sent me across the country to this nowhere town to listen to a story that I know already ended well.” She pointed, eyes wide like saucers, at the heaps of items littering the living room. “Like… You’re all three here, right? No changeling overlord, no draconic destruction or Tartarus mayhem as far as I could see when I arrived. Not even the buildings look new. I mean, Ponyville doesn’t look young in any measure, it’s an old town like you, M’am — eh, I mean. It’s well-aged, like fine wine.” Good catch, Luster. “Ponyville, the town, the outskirts, the valley… Everything turned out just fine. Right?”

Luster offered her open hoof, as if to hand out a well-wrapped and sorted-out case, or whatever one gave their debate opponent after a well-wrought rhetorical argument. Pinkie Pie, Cheerilee, and Mare, formerly Mayor, were indeed there. Intact, though ten years older. Nothing anypony could do anything about that latter fact, though. Not everypony could be an alicorn after all. But they were alive, and the town was fine. There was no reason to make a big deal out of this story. And so Luster went back to her first question. Why was she here?

Her mind fluttering away, Luster pondered what she would look like with wings stapled to her back. Taller for sure. She quickly wiped the smirk off her face when Cheerilee’s raised eyebrow came into view. Reverie was over.

“I mean. Sorry to be blunt,” Luster protested, “but understand me. There’s no suspense to this story! This is going to be boring. I can tell. And Teacher Twilight likes stories with suspense, like those old Daring Do drabs–”

Cheerilee set her hoof on Mare’s shoulder, the former mayor boiling to answer. “Yearling is a good friend.”

“No offense. Again,” Luster muttered, biting on her lips. “What I really mean is that Teacher Twilight must have had a reason for me to come here to listen to a story. I can’t believe she’d send me here to fetch a list of facts I could have gotten from Canterlot’s library.”

“Who wants tea?” Mare said and stood up, leaving for the kitchen.

Luster exchanged glances with Cheerilee and Pinkie, the sound of Mare’s hooves against the parquet, the only sound that filled the living room.

“You’re a real pain in the butt.”

That wasn’t Cheerilee who spoke. But Pinkie. And Luster’s jaw dropped a little. She hadn’t expected that from her mentor’s friend. But in hindsight… Luster nodded and looked down.

“I–” Luster sighed, “am.”

A crash of plates and a swear burst in the kitchen. Lips pinched and wrinkles on her forehead, Cheerilee excused herself and trotted out of the room, leaving Luster staring at Pinkie, and Pinkie at her.

“I’m… sorry.” It hurt to say.

“You should say that to Cheerilee and Mare. After all they invited you in.”

Luster nodded; she hadn’t much to add. “There’s no point in hearing a story about Teacher Twilight if it’s not from her mouth.” Well, she had some add-ons to give.

“Who said it’s about her?” Pinkie asked. “Did she tell you it was about her?”

Luster rubbed her muzzle and sniffled. “N– no. I mean, shouldn’t it be? She’s the most important pony in Equestria after all?”

“Maybe it’s about the town. Ya know, we’ve had a lot of things happen here? It’s sentimental and all.”

“Coming here does feel like a punition more than a lesson, though.”

“Maybe it’s both?”

Luster nodded. “Maybe it’s both.”

As the smell of tea started to crawl into the living room, Luster and Pinkie fell into a long moment of silence, which Luster wasn’t ready to break. Maybe it was about remembering something. Teacher Twilight had done something to the town and she had to learn from it.

“A mistake,” Luster muttered, prompting Pinkie to give her a questioning look. “That’s it. Teacher Twilight made a mistake and wants me to learn from it.”

“That, she sure did,” Cheerilee said as she trotted back in the living room, Mare behind her with a plate of tea cups in her mouth. “A big, black, round mistake.”

Luster offered to help set the plate and distribute the cup but Mare refused. Soon enough, everypony had tea the old-fashioned way.

“So the ball?” Lust asked.

“We called it the Wall,” Cheerilee said, met with Mare and Pinkie’s nods.

“Sounds stupid,” Luster commented.

“Ah-ah!” Pinkie pointed her hoof at Cheerilee and Mare. “Told ya it was a stupid name.”

Mare rolled her eyes, took a sip, and cleared her throat, calling eyes on her.

“What did it do?” Luster asked.

“It ate the town.”