> Killing Time > by Prak > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > One Mare. One Moon. Infinite Possibilities. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Killing Time by Prak There’s one thing nopony ever told me about the Elements of Harmony; getting hit by that rainbow hurts. It’s like being stomped on by a minotaur and roasted from the inside, and the worst part is that you know the blasted things are doing it “for your own good.” It was like being punished by my mother. Actually, it’s a little worse, now that I think about it. My mother never put me into time-out, but here I am, stuck on the moon. It’s funny, really. I love the moon. My moon. It’s big and beautiful, and unlike Celestia’s flashy ball of gas, you can look directly at it! I can’t even begin to count the hours I’ve spent staring at it from my tower and wondering what it would be like to walk around up here. Well, now I know the answer. It’s boring. Everywhere I look, there’s nothing but dull, gray rocks. Except when I look up, that is. I get a great view of the planet from here. If I look really closely, I can see… not much at all. All I can see is the side of the world where it’s night, so it’s just a big ball of dark splotches with a ring of light around the edges that keeps my eyes from adjusting. Stupid sun. I’ll bet Celestia is doing that on purpose. * * * Entertaining myself is difficult. Sure, kicking rocks around and seeing how long they stayed in the air (or lack thereof) was fun for a while, but it got old around the time one circled the whole moon and conked me in the back of the head. I try to beat the dent made by the rock out of my helmet, but when I stomp on it, I just make a bigger dent, shaped like my shoe. In my frustration, I throw it as hard as I can, and it disappears over the horizon in an instant. I stand in place for a while, smiling with satisfaction. If I never see that thing again, it’ll be too— * * * I wake up with a splitting headache and a ringing in my ears. Bringing a hoof up to my head, just above the back of my neck, I feel around and wince as I touch a nasty lump that feels like it’s half the size of my head. Glancing around, I see my helmet on the ground near me. It’s picked up another dent, it seems, and the new one is a pretty good match for the contour of my skull. I growl as I pick it up, and I rear back to hurl it again, but I catch myself just in time. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me thrice… still shame on you, but I’m not taking another blow to the head if I can help it. As I hold it, though, I realize something. The hole my horn fits through could be useful. Holding it up to my face, I peek through it and look toward the spinning planet. Huzzah! By looking through the hole from the right distance, I can cut out that annoying ring of light and get a good view of the surface! Looks like it’s nighttime in Equestria right now. If I squint really hard and use magic to amplify my vision, I can make out my castle. Oh, that’s just great. It’s a total wreck. Figures that lazy oaf, Celestia, wouldn’t bother to fix it up after kicking me out. She really is the worst housemate ever. Maybe I can find something else to look at. Oh, hey! There’s something new. Construction sites on the side of a mountain. Looks like they’re building something pretty big there. What kind of numbskull would build a castle or a city in a place like that? I’ll bet Celestia signed off on some crackpot’s plans without reading them. I’ll be counting the days until it falls. * * * I look through my makeshift telescope as Equestria comes into view. Bah, still standing. Scratching another mark into the ground, I mumble to myself, “That's day six thousand nine hundred seventy-four.” * * * I finally lay the last rock to complete my house. Okay, it isn’t quite what I’m used to. Definitely not a castle. Barely more than a hovel, if I’m honest. Still, it’s mine. I have some leftover stones, though. I really should put them to some kind of use. Ah! I know the just thing. Making a dog out of moon rocks isn’t easy, and it collapses a few times before I’m done, but the low gravity helps as I build his appendages then stack even more rocks on top of them. His legs are thicker than normal because they have to hold up the larger body, but I think he looks pretty good. Now, I just need a name for him. I’ll call him… Rover. * * * Maybe I should take up painting. All I need is paint, canvas, brushes, and a few other things. I wonder how hard it could be to make them all out of rocks. I sigh and throw the largest rock I can reach at the planet. It breaks free of the moon’s gravity—something I can’t do, probably because of the Elements’ curse—and I watch it float away until it hits the atmosphere and disappears in a fiery streak. That was kind of pretty, I suppose. I reach down to pick up another rock, but the nearest one is flat and shaped similarly to Celestia’s cutie mark. I spit on the stone, but that isn’t enough to satisfy me, so I aim my horn at it and conjure the hottest flames I can manage. Admittedly, they’re not as hot as Celestia’s, but she is connected to a big ball of burning gases that’s so ugly, you can’t even look directly at it. Also, the lack of air up here might have something to do with it. Okay, so it’s not exactly fire, but it’s still heat. The rock starts to glow red, and it cracks a few times before finally yielding to my superior power and melting. When the blackened ground cools, I start to kick some moon dust onto it to cover up the blemish. “Wait…” I mutter aloud, except it isn’t aloud at all because there’s no air to carry the sound. The point is I have an idea. Maybe I have paint and a canvas, after all. * * * After what feels like a lifetime of work—probably because it has been—I’m finally putting the finishing touches on my masterpiece. The ground blackens at my hooves, and all the lines are finally filled in. Those sun-loving foals on the planet won’t ever forget my face now. Every single night, for the rest of their lives, they’ll look up at the moon, and they’ll see me in all my glory! Now, I need something else to do… * * * I wonder how many years I’ve been trying to come up with something else to do. I think I’ve run out of options. Dang. There’s no choice but to start doing the things I’ve already done, I suppose. It beats farting around for the next hundred years while I try to think of something new. Hey, wait a minute… * * * “Whee!” I shout into the vacuum, somewhat less enthusiastically than usual, as my gas-powered leap approaches its apex. I guess the novelty is finally wearing off. Besides, if somepony with a telescope happened to see me, I’d never be taken seriously again. * * * The silly castle on the mountain is coming into view again. I’m pretty sure that’s where Celestia lives these days, so I’m doing the only sensible thing. The pile of rocks beside me is bigger than usual, and I found a couple of really nice ones. First, I need to get my aim worked out, so I pick up a small stone, barely more than a pebble, and hurl it at the planet. A few minutes later, I see it—Did I mention that I finally got my eyes to adjust to that stupid ring of sunlight? Anyway, I see it flare up and fade away. My aim was pretty close, but just to be sure, I toss another one. This one hits the atmosphere right above the castle, so I move on to the bigger ones. The first few are right on target. All I can do is hope part of them managed to survive re-entry and impact the surface. I know there’s not much chance with the smaller ones, but I keep throwing them because it’s good stress relief. As I get to the bottom of the pile, there’s a bit of dust on one of the rocks, and it gets into my nose. As I’m starting my throw, I sneeze, and the rock misses the planet completely. I grit my teeth as it sails off into the void. Of course, I keep watching it because a rock in motion is a million times more interesting than one that’s just laying on the ground. It’s getting so small that I can hardly see it when it reaches one of the stars. When it hits, the star ripples and sort of wobbles in the sky. I have to try that again. * * * You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear that all those stars I’ve been hitting with rocks for the past few years are getting closer. ...Wait a minute. They are getting closer! I guess I can understand. If I were being pelted by stones every day, I’d try to chase down the pony responsible. Maybe if I stop, they’ll go away. * * * I giggle as yet another rock hits one of the approaching stars. They’re so much closer now that I can see it clearly when they hit! * * * I’ve gotten bored with throwing moon rocks at things, so I’m just farting around again. The novelty is wearing off pretty fast this time, though, so I start looking for something else to do. I suppose I can always erase my self-portrait and put up a picture of Celestia’s fat flanks. It has to be close to the one thousand year anniversary of my banishment, and what better way to celebrate than publicly mocking the one who put me up here? I practically skip to the tip of the picture’s horn, ready to blast all the charred ground away, but I slow down when I see a light ahead. It looks like a star, but it’s much too close. Oh no. Are they still mad about that? It’s been decades since I threw anything at them! It’s coming at me, so I start to back up. It accelerates, so I turn around and get ready to run for it, but when I do, there’s another one right there, in my face. I scream. I know it doesn’t actually do anything up here, but that’s just what you’re supposed to do in situations like this, and I’ll be damned to Tartarus if I’m going to pass up my opportunity to do something I haven’t had a chance to do in a millennium. Of course, the star doesn’t care about that. It just reaches out and grabs me by the neck, and—What in the world? Stars have arms? The one behind me grabs onto my hind legs, and they pick me up. There’s no sound, but I swear these things are laughing. As they carry me down toward my house—which is now up to seven rooms!—two more come from above and grab my flailing wings. With one arm, each of them pulls a wing to full extension. I look back at one of them, and it holds up a second hand, wiggling its fingers. My eyes go wide, and I squirm for all I’m worth, but their grip is like steel clamps. When the attack comes, it’s right under my wings. First, they just tickle me with a couple of fingers. It’s enough to send me into fits of laughter, but they don’t stop. By the time we get to where they’re taking me—my house, as it turns out—my lungs are on fire from laughing so hard for so long, and my head is ringing. I barely notice it when the ones holding my wings let go and fly away. The other two quiver, and I can tell they’re giggling. They point my head right at my house—run for it, Rover!—and swing me backwards. Then, the momentum reverses and I’m rushing forward. However, I don’t go flying; I breathe an airless sigh of relief when I’m wrenched to a halt. That’s not the end of it, though. They swing me back and forth a few more times, and each time, I wonder if this will be the one that topples my house and kills my dog. Thankfully, they stop swinging me and turn me around. Wait, now they’re lifting me up higher and angling me up. Are they planning on throwing me at the barrier? As they swing me back again, I notice the other two above us. They reach out and grab something I can’t see. Well, that’s not quite right because I can see it now. Rainbows are rippling outward from where they’re grabbing, and there’s a hole where they’re pulling apart the shield the Elements put up to keep me here. Then they throw me. I scream as I hurtle through the lack of air and pass through the hole in the barrier, but I stop when I look back. The stars aren’t following me. They’re staying behind to trash all my hard work! I watch helplessly as they wipe away my portrait, knock down my moon rock house, and euthanize my pet moon rock dog. All I can do is yell at them. “...ou bastards!” Oh, hey! I can hear myself! That means… Uh oh. I scream again as I turn into a fireball and hurtle through the atmosphere. * * * “Ow... My head…” I mutter as I come around. “Luna?” a voice says. I know that voice. My eyes snap open, and there she is, right in front of me: my sister, Celestia. It’s been a thousand years, but she still looks exactly the same, right down to that infuriating look of concern she’s always wearing. It looks like I crashed right onto her balcony. “Sister,” I say, “It’s been a long time.” She reaches out and wraps her legs around me in a death grip. It’s an odd way to start a battle, but I have to admit, it’s pretty effective. I can hardly move a muscle, and it’s getting hard to breathe. “I missed you so much,” she says. Wait. This isn’t a grapple. It’s a hug. She’s genuinely happy to see me. She’s even starting to cry! It’s too much for even my cold heart, and I find myself, almost involuntarily, reaching out to embrace her in return. After a few minutes, we finally pull apart, and she smiles as she says, “Welcome back, Luna.” I smile back at her. My dark armor starts to crack and evaporate at the edges, and my teeth start to return to their original shape. I don’t know how this is happening, and I’m not sure I like it, but it feels like a weight is lifting from my shoulders. “It’s good to be back, sister. You wouldn’t believe how boring it is up there.” Her joyful smile turns into a mischievous grin, which sends a chill down my spine. “I don’t know about that,” she says. “It looked like you were enjoying yourself earlier.” What? No. That’s impossible. She couldn’t have seen… And there, in the corner of my vision, I see it. A telescope, aimed directly at the moon. She presses her attack. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear that I plan on having beans served at your return banquet.” Heat gathers in my cheeks, and my armor and teeth return to their proper, menacing forms. “You will tell no one!” I scream. Before she can respond, I blast her with all the power I can muster, using the strongest spell I’m familiar with, which just happens to be the one the elements used on me. An instant later, she’s gone, banished the same way I was. While part of my brain entertains me with some oh-so-satisfying images of my sister dancing around on the surface of the sun, trying to keep her hooves from catching fire, I look at a piece of parchment on her table. It’s her schedule for the day, and right up at the top, it says: “Summer Sun Celebration: Ponyville” Well, they’re expecting a royal visit, and I can’t let them be disappointed. I’ll just pop in there, announce the new eternal night, and leave to go fix up my old castle—the one that wasn’t built on a mountain by a bunch of crazy ponies. What could possibly go wrong?