> A most Regal Visage > by AtypicalBrony > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > The Blackness around your eyes > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Where the buck did you get your eyeliner?” I blinked. Looking up from the novel at hoof, my eyes met the puffed red cheeks of a familiar lavender alicorn. Beside her stood my sister, with equally red cheeks. Something must have made them mad, or worse. “I beg your pardon, Twilight?” I said. “Where. The. Buck. Did. You. Get. Your. Eyeliner!” Twilight yelled. A few seconds passed as I attempted to process what I had just heard. Twilight, a mare willing to do almost anything to seek my approval—including messing with the minds of an entire town—was actually yelling at me; it seemed I had failed miserably. Having my sister by her side didn’t make things easier. Then came the stench. The sickly sweet smell. Instantly I knew the culprit for their ridiculous actions. “Twilight, Luna, are you both drunk again?” I asked. For some ponies, the night after the longest day of the year is a cause for celebration, my sister included. “Thou jestest! Weeee are not drunk!” Luna said. “She reeeely means ‘we’ this time. *hic*” Twilight added. I sighed, remembering the times when the ruler of Equestria actually had the responsibility of keeping drunkards off Canterlot streets. Unfortunately, my skills are a couple hundred years out of practice. “I think a good night’s rest will do both of you some good.” I eventually said, and left my couch to shove the two drunken mares to their rooms. I wished that the two problems at my doorstep will simply comply and go away, which raises an interesting question: When you are hailed as a god amongst ponies, who should you direct your wishes to? Yourself? But of course, the drunkards always seem determined to mess with you. Luna resisted my attempts to nudge her to her room. “Neigh, sister. We demand thine knowledge on the use of the royal eyeliner in order to obtain the most regal of visages.” Luna said, swinging a hoof to emphasize her point, but she somehow managed to slam it into Twilight, who wobbled a little as a result, but doesn’t seem to mind. “As exemplified by you and Cadence.*hic*” “But, you two, I have no idea what you both are talking about!” “Thou shalt not lie! Just look at thine face! And tell wee dat is not a most blatant use of eyeliner.” On cue, the magneta glow of Twilight’s magic ripped the life size vanity of my guest room and shoved it to my snout. I find consolation in the fact that Twilight will feel very sorry tomorrow. I have to admit, I haven’t looked at myself in the mirror for a long time, and indeed there was a shade of black tracing the perimeter of my eye. How that translates into regality, I don’t know. How my eye looked like that in the first place, I don’t know that either. My servants take care of my appearance, but I don’t think they actually do things to my face. “And how did this sudden interest in my eyeliner happen?” I asked as Twilight tossed the mirror away with her magic. “Lady Rarity hath explained that h-her utmost reverence for royalty stemmed from your most regal visage, most notably ze use of such divine eyeliner.” Luna answered. “It has been there forever……*hic*” Twilight said. Then, in a dramatic manner not unlike a pony possessed by a spirit, the pupil of her eyes dilated to the point of filling up her eyes, she leaned forward to mere inches from my face, and repeated ominously, “Foreverrrrrr……*hic*”. “I don’t know; I am born with it.” “Neigh sister, we remember no such beauty on your face before we were banished to the moon.” “And how else do you explain the fact Cadence has it too? *hic* You must have discovered the secrets of permanent eyeliner while she was still in her banishment! Aaand decided to not share with us!” It took all my might to try stopping myself from bringing my own hoof to my face, and even with that, I failed. As painful as this habit is, I have no other means of expressing my befuddlement. “Why Celly, isss your permanent eyeliner too good for YOUR SISSSSTER?” “Too good for YOUR MOST FAITHFUL STUDENT? *hic*” I said nothing in hope that the ridiculousness of the situation will eventually get to them. Twilight actually caring something as trivial as one’s appearance? Tension build up in the air as I gave them my best you-have-been-a-naughty-filly stare, hoping that they cowed like the fillies they are behaving right now. It would have worked, I think, if all that tension hadn’t been dispelled by that most infernal— *hic* One chuckle—not from me—led to another and I knew that they are not cowering soon. Instead, it served as a cue for the most preposterous statement I heard next. “Weee want to look majestic too!” they whined together. Unsure on how to answer them since I don’t know the answer to it myself, I tried a different approach. “Well Luna, I have always wanted to know the secret to your ever prominent eyelashes. Now if you’d be kind enough to show me tomorrow, I will reveal my own beauty secret. Now off to bed.” I said, resuming the shoving. “Why Celly, tis so simple. The answer to that is of course….” “NOW WAIT JUST A TELEPORTIN’ MINUTE. You are going to show us your secret right now! I don’t have any beauty *hic* secrets *hic* in exchange!” Twilight bellowed. That was the last straw. “Both of you, please! Both of you look majestic enough in your own right. Cease this shameful display at once before anypony does something they regret!” I yelled, exasperated. “Egad! Did I hear my sister threatened me? Why, this most foul behavior couldst not possibrru my sister’s doing!” “Threatening your own sister like that? Shamefur Disprray!” Twilight yelled. “Let’s show her who’s boss.” Wings flared, horns lowered, and steam puffed from their nostrils as they adopted battle stances. Instantly I was reminded the physical, violent bar fights of earth pony bars, the random zaps of not-so-harmless offensive magic and/or horn butting when unicorns are involved, and not to mention the chaotic clusterbuck of airborne bodies of pegasi bar fights. I shudder at the thought of how such a brawl between ponies who embody all three tribes will play out. Unfortunately I need not leave such travesty to my imagination, I am already in one. My last thought before the two ponies lunged at me was that I hoped that the owner of this guest house had insured it against alicorn destruction. As the earliest riser of the Apple family since granny retired from farm duties, Big Mac swore that morning has come slightly late today, but of course it’s a moot point. Farm duties won’t start without Applejack, and if lil’ sis needs the extra bit of rest before the day begins, then a late morning is most certainly welcome. “Mornin’, Big Mac,” muttered Applejack unenthusiastically as she trudged into kitchen. Twenty minutes after sunrise, as usual, even though sunrise is already half an hour late. Big Mac offered her an understanding smile. Not every night did she get to party hard with royalty like last night, and for that occasion she’d even offer the best cider on the farm, Applejack’s Applejack. It’s not significantly more alcoholic than other types of beverages, but due to its sheer goodness ponies tend to carelessly consume far more than what was thought to be equinely possible, especially when drinking it the apple family way—straight from the barrel. If it weren’t for the fact that Applejack has a special tolerance for Applejack’s Applejack, he doubted she’d have shown up for work at all. As Big Mac watched Applejack perform her morning rituals—pouring coffee, retrieving the apple pie from the oven, unfolding the newspaper—with less energy than usual, he couldn’t help but wonder if that was the reason for the late morning. Can it? Princess Celestia wasn’t at the party, but her sister was. Big Mac was just about to finish off his breakfast when he heard Applejack almost choked on over something on the paper. “Whoa nelly,” she exclaimed, “Big Mac, do we still have leftover alcohol of mah namesake?” “Eeyup.” “Has anypony placed an order for ‘em?” “Nope.” “We better clear stock soon,” Applejack said, quickly devouring the last crumbs of pie with a newfound urgency. “Ah don’t think we’ll have the permission to sell ‘em much longer.”, she said as she stormed out of the kitchen. Curious, Big Mac took a closer look at the newspaper. It read: “Drunken Princesses Brawl over Secrets of Permanent Eyeliner, Destroys Guesthouse”