His Favorite Color is Green, Actually
The only interesting part about my dream so far was that it included me. My presence was always extremely relevant to my interests, to say the least.
Glancing around, I rolled my withers and frowned slightly. I still felt the leftover aches from sparring so much with Luna today. In dreams, the feelings were soft and distant, a clear afterthought, but when I was awake, Luna had to heal a small burn from a shower of sparks.
An irritated sigh slipped out of me at the shocking experience. She's the loveliest mare there is, but damn, if I'm behind in some of the things she can do. At least, the ones that I can ever 'catch up' with. Becoming a god was different from being born one like her. Despite that, it was clear to both of us — her words and my eyes — that I was doing far better than most anypony would in my position. All I have to do is notice what I do, and the comparison becomes more of a divide than anything else.
It won't be today, but after a multitude of them that every difference between me and a demigod will be all too apparent. I've been caught up in enough power games, exchanges of worthless crowns, and had enough of history before me to know that there will always be some who view me with a price above my head. This is a constant across history that physically unfolds around me or texts I've had access to. In a sick way, it never ceases to amuse me, the whispers of everypony about how easily they think my future can be cut away from me. To think that it could be placed in their hooves is hilarious, disgusting, or a few other things that come to mind, depending on my mood.
Even if it weren't for the fact that this was a dream, I would know easily because of how tired my eyes aren't right now. Were I awake, I would feel drained from the magic and combat that Luna has been putting me through. Being challenged by somepony who could actually put up a fight was invigorating. Forgoing sleep on an inconsistent basis meant that I could find my eyes tired from browsing tome after tome, focus on experiments, and other ways to harness the current extents of divinity.
I blinked at my surroundings, all my tired mind saw fit to conjure up was a totally white landscape. No solid ground was beneath my hooves, and nothing concrete above me. Vague walls were here and there, all as white as snowdrifts. In them, I caught glimpses of my reflection, blurred at times, but still visible.
Smirking smugly at myself, I decided it was time to find some amusement in this dream. Lighting my horn, I conjured the last book I had been reading. It was a Germane study about the dangers of establishing and further encouraging herd mentality in ponies, whose tendency to organize their society in such a way was horrifying, if not in a shocking way. I had to pull quite a few favors to get a book like this, since this particular title is not able to be distributed or circulated within Equestrian borders. I got what I wanted, though, and that is all I need. The Solar Index wasn't going to stop me there.
Flipping the pages nonchalantly in my magic, I was careful to note that my extensive experimentation with my personal magics had paid off. The first six chapters were replicated word-for-word and adapted perfectly into the dream-volume. Exploiting, re-purposing, and refining the spell system I archived pre-banishment had paid off. The memories of being unraveled back into my extraphysical form and trapped in an ice-void were beyond priceless, and now an example has coalesced in front of me. So far, I've been able to store books fairly well, both awake and asleep. Even the sight of all the blank pages left in this book has got me grinning like when Luna is all over one of my new spells or the latest candies I've swiped for her.
Or, when she thinks she can sneak up on me.
My tail swishes back and forth on the 'ground' I have been sitting on. I judge the amount I still have yet to read and store in this book, all while marveling at each word and how well I had been able to replicate so much this time around. I skim a few of my favorite passages, satisfied with the work in progress levitating in front of me — even a couple of nicks in the cover had been copied too.
The lingering thoughts of sparring and dueling with Luna drifted through my mind, causing the dreamscape to ripple faintly. The presence of magic in the air, the sound of her laughter, thunderclaps, fire roaring, and other sensations floated up into my focus. None of that stopped me from feeling Luna's presence long before — she really did still think she could sneak up on me.
With my bangs hiding my eyes, and my back to her, it was no problem to roll them and for my reaction to go unnoticed.
Even the flick of my ears had been carefully stilled.
Her spell was going to be absolutely ridiculous. She knew she couldn't hide that from me.
I heard a faint poof, the rustle of fabric, and I felt it.
It completely, and absolutely warranted another eye-roll. Then, I looked down at the attire she had selected ever-so-carefully to match my tastes.
A pink dress with a soft skirt that was far shorter and sheerer than anything I liked to wear. The body of it wasn't that bad, other than it was as pink as the damned current Bearer of Laughter. Each of the sleeves that were childishly puffy. The big bow tied around the neck looked and felt far too much like some sort of collar. I was quick to dismiss the dream-book and rip it away, green and violet flame consuming it and the ashes dissolving when they hit the ground before I had the chance to hyperventilate.
I grumbled to myself with small, mumbled noises only coherent as growls, I looked at the rest of what Luna thinks I must adore while the sound of familiar giggles echoes around me.
A bow that's large, pink, and as stupid as the average pony off the street in every possible way has ended up tied in my tail. After giving the distasteful and downright ugly piece a withering look, I scowl and pull it out of my tail, running crimson aura through it to comb it back to its usual look.
Equally pink shoes — as pink as the high and mighty Pink One of the North herself — that I don't recognize as having any purpose appear to be unusual enough for something, and have a peculiar toe. As one-toed as equines might be, the heels were absolutely insufferable. I just don't know what these were possibly supposed to be used for. The ribbons that tie them go midway up my legs, winding like unnatural silky vines that I am quick to cut through with a few singing strokes of my magic. I feel a bow in my mane too, and while it is silly, and I'm not entirely against mane ornaments, I'll let it stay for Luna's sake.
The rest of me is as I desire, and after kicking off the odd shoes — or are they slippers? — I stand tall, proudly looking out at my dreamscape with a cool, aloof stare. It's all too easy to pretend I don't know where my marefriend is when my own body can sense her location. To my magic-sensing, her presence is like a bonfire on a darkened meadow.
"Luna, you are free to come out and explain yourself whenever you see fit, you wicked imp." I pause, and work on placing the magic of the object with her, clutched somewhere in her forelegs. She knows full well that levitating it would only alert me of her whereabouts more. While what she's holding isn't alive, a few things in it are. It has to be some kind of plant by-product that has muddied traces of life buried somewhere in it. Bread, I think. "You had better share whatever snack you have too."
Whatever it is, it's likely vegan and thus she absolutely has to share or I'll convince her too.
She pops out from behind one of the previously silent walls of white. Even the snowy hue of everything looks gray compared to her wide, playful smile. Biting back one of my own, I wait for her to levitate what is clearly a tasty-looking oatburger from where it is being concealed. You can't really become a god without having a metabolism enough like an Alicorn's as you adjust, and dream food isn't going to prevent me from waking up hungry and craving twenty large pizzas, but it's going to sate something.
With a metabolism like this, any feat that pushes me far enough — which isn't much outside of what Luna drills me through — will leave me famished. I don't like eating, and I technically don't have to, and neither does Luna. But, the prospect of a twenty-pizza late breakfast with breadsticks that goes nowhere but replenishing energy that I can burn through quicker than a brushfire sweeping through the Appleoosan chaparral is ridiculous. I would know about the fires too, since I've set a few smaller ones before...
...But that oatburger is going to be mine.
Licking the edge of my teeth, I train my eyes right on the oatburger and the all-too-obvious stench of fired vegetable oil and curse everything, I want that burger.
Luna is still smiling when she is seven paces away from me. Her mane flowing freely and tail giving a few long swishes of joy that match the light in her eyes. She gives one of her terribly earnest smiles even as she chews part of her half-eaten oatburger. The sight is all I need to I know something must have caused her such delight before she decided that teasing me would be the best way to spend the rest of her night.
Being the unashamed, self-centered criminal that I am, I charge my own horn and forcibly swipe Luna's oatburger from her magic, and release the spell disguising my fangs so I can cram the bloody thing into the secure grip of their pearly-whiteness.
I then proceed to eat the oatburger as elegantly as the situation allows and push back thoughts of how ravenously hungry I'm going to be when I wake up.
I devour the entire thing, and make it look good.
Luna watches the entire thing with a mildly confused, owlish stare. "Oh."
"What?" I grumbled when I was done and my muzzle clean of crumbs, "You put me through dueling Tartarus today. Then, you show up in my dreams and put me in this dress that's only not as hideous as it should be because I'm wearing it and it doesn't even have a full skirt, how dare you. How don't expect me to exact some form of revenge upon you?"
Luna shrugged her withers and refolded her wings. "I suppose tomorrow you shall want to go out to eat?" Pausing, she taps a hoof to her muzzle in thought. "Truly, I suppose 'pillaging' would be more accurate for what we would do, aye?" She smiles brightly, "Oh! I can even bring some old war paint if you desire!"
"Why would you pick this dress for me to wear? It's absolutely horrible on anypony but me, so you are incredibly lucky that I was able to pull this off." Shaking my head in bitter disgust, I jabbed a forehoof at a clear flaw in the skirt. "This isn't even a swishing skirt. I aim to look alluring when I wear a dress—"
Luna smiles almost shyly and kicks a forehoof at the ground. "You do look very striking in them, far more than I could."
Nodding, I continue.
"—and this isn't that, Luna. These sleeves are disgusting. The color is off. Why couldn't you give me something green? I want to try and see how handsome my esteemed self would look in green. Red suits me," and at that, I puff out my chest with pride. Luna still looks at me like I am the most majestic thing she has ever seen. "Black I might be able to work with. But pink? It is absolutely the worst color, and yellow too. Both are these terrible nuisances and utter abomination just like purple."
Luna looks far too confused now. "Oh...?" Furrowing her brow, she looks at me with it so obvious in her eyes. "Pink is the color for mares and mare-things in this age though, is it not? ...I thought you would look cute." Her foreleg meets the ground again. "I apologize for being so terrible with feminine fashions; they are truly mind-boggling to me. Is it any wonder Tia picks out all my dresses? They are absolutely no fun," she pouts and by Tartarus' flames that pout always gets to me. Suddenly, her face brightens and she jumps a little, feathers fluttering, laughing softly. "At least I have you! Sorcery, sword, and solitude for us, aye?"
I narrow my eyes. "You can add sass, stunning good looks, and style for me."
Luna smiles coyly and punches my closest wither with her forehoof. "Is that all you would have then? Smug suits you terribly well!"
Stepping forward, I nibble her nearest ear gently, and she gaps and giggles a little, whispering about how it tickles.
"And you, Luna, are just as smart as I am, so why don't we add that to the list, my clever, small princess?" I make the face she always seems to find so amusing, poking the tip of my tongue out and crossing my eyes. She insists that this wide-eyed, derpy look is something that house cats of all creatures also make.
Being as devoid of mercy as she is, Luna pouts in retaliation. "Stop it with the cat face! You're terrible, Sombra! I am not little!" she insists. "I am in fact, taller than you." Jabbing a forehoof at my chest, she intensifies her pout and I smirk extra smugly at her, knowing how much my darling Luna is in the mood to appreciate it.
"You love the cat face and you know it," I whisper.
"Hmph. You're so, so terrible sometimes, you know that?"
I chuckle a little — one that isn't just dry amusement — and nuzzle Luna, accepting the kiss she quickly gives me. I pull away with a happy smirk on my face still. "That's why you love me~"
She's trying so hard to not look like she's bursting with laughter but failing so horribly.
I love it.
"Alright, Luna, tell me this: what's really prompting you to try and think pink?"
She avoids eye contact a little. Oh, this might be interesting.
"Umm..."
"Is something wrong?" I press carefully, resting a forehoof on her wither. "Is it something small? The Gala again? Is Celestia trying to get you to wear something you don't like—"
"—and I can't lie, but giving her an honest answer is exactly what she would not want to hear. It would hurt her as honesty always seems to. Is that what you think is wrong today? No, it isn't that."
I sigh. What could it be, then? "Do you want me to pick something out for you? Is it a summit or party?"
Utterly serious, Luna bites back her words again, eyes stormy with thoughts she won't say.
"It's your butt."
"What."
Luna ducks her head and lets her mane hide her face. "Your butt looks nice in that dress."
"Why in Tartarus' name are we talking about my ass?!"
"...It just does! You look cute! You look nice, Sombra! That includes your butt."
...This... I... well? Is everything I do cute to this mare? She hasn't had an opinion of me that wasn't endearing, flattering, or wholly compassionate before.
"Luna," I say firmly, scooping her into a hug, "if I know anything about you, it is that between the two of us, you are the asexual one. By the Acheron's waters, I am aware that I am incredibly handsome, but why are you so interested in my godly posterior?"
Luna wrapped her forelegs around me in a warm embrace and laughed into the pink fabric of this disaster.
The sound was still wonderful, and I have no reason not to welcome her embrace."Sombra, it is simply because you look cute, and so does your butt. Little else motivated this... you simply look so nice. Though, I must thank you for being such a good sport about the spell and the pink dress... I really did think it was something fitting for a pony trying to be... mare-like? I... I am sorry I do not understand this the same way you do."
I nuzzle the top of Luna's head. "You understand me, and that is what matters, Luna."
Merry giggles reach my ears again, their sound partially muffled by all this pink and our hug. "Does your butt understand too?"
"Three thousand years old going on three, are we?" Even though I roll my eyes and my sigh is a bored one, I think that Luna can feel there's a bit of a smile on my face. She would know where to look. My mind just wanders to trying to think if I got that right — if mortal three-year-olds being immature is true. I have little experience there to say.
"Oh, absolutely! ...And yet, I still wonder at the answer to this great question, Sombra, for the meaning of life is wound up somewhere in the threads of it."
...It does have the potential to bring my ego to new heights.
In my mind, I know it to be true that whatever I say shall be all the fuel every narcissistic part of me is screaming for, and how valid all their screams are. Purring, I run my tongue across the bottoms of my fangs and make no effort not to look incredibly smug.
I'm really going to do this.
For my ego's sake, but most importantly, for teasing Luna as much as possible.
"Yes, Luna my butt understands. Because of you, my butt is the meaning of life now. You better be pretty damn proud of yourself because you are forever going to have to live with the weight of this horrible crime."
"Sombra?" she asks, her voice a worried whimper. "Can we end this planet? I am certain that we have the perfect justification to do so. The evidence of such an offense must be hidden. All we need to do is wake up. This planet must end, and I am certain you know why."
"My butt is too good for this world?"
"N-no..."
"Luna," I said, breaking the news as gently as possible, stroking her dark mane softly. "There is no going back now. Everything is about my butt now, and, of course, me."
"Nononononono," she whispers frantically into my coat.
"Some things can be about you too. Plenty of things will be. I promise, and I always keep my promises, don't I?"
"You do," Luna admitted quietly.
"Luna," I said, teasing her name a bit as I did, and flicking her ears with the light of my crimson aura. "All this is now is just a terrible dream. I'm here for you, truly. I promise, alright? The only thing you have to do is wake up, and do you know what we can do from there?"
"...What?" she asks innocently, voice soft, contemplative, and confused.
"Discover the meaning of life."
Some sort of gasp sounded from her, and an even longer silence followed, with the smug expression of victory on my face almost tangible in the quiet.
"Sombra?" Luna asked after a long time. "I mean this with all the loving sincerity in the world when I say that you make so happy that I am an absurdist."