Keeping It Real
Raven Inkwell dragged her hooves into the palace’s dining room for breakfast, relying more on smell than sight to find her way. When the scent of coffee was strong enough, she opened her bleary eyes to see Princess Celestia smothering what appeared to be a third plate of waffles in enough syrup to kill half the Royal Guard. The alicorn offered a smile to Raven, who sat down and poured herself a large mug of precious energy.
“Good morning, Raven,” Celestia greeted. “What it do?”
Raven’s already sluggish brain ground to a halt as it tried to process the words that surely didn’t come from her princess’s mouth.
“...What it do?” she parrotted.
Celestia gave a single nod, her expression as serene as if they were discussing the weather. “Indeed.”
Raven waited for clarification of some kind, but Celestia seemed oblivious to her poor secretary’s confusion as she began to delicately inhale her mountain of soggy waffles. The regal display was something few ponies would ever have the privilege of witnessing, yet Raven felt the opposite of privileged at the moment. She decided to push the thought from her mind for now.
When Celestia finished eating, she carefully wiped her mouth with a napkin and stood from her seat. By this point Raven had finally woken up enough to function somewhat, so she stood as well, a partially eaten bagel in her magic grasp. As they left the dining room, Celestia would take a right and Raven would take a left, the former heading to the throne room, the latter to her office. Before they separated, however, Celestia addressed her one last time.
“I shall see you after day court, Raven,” she said. “Stay turnt.”
The princess’s hoofsteps echoed quietly down the hallway, leaving Raven alone with her thoughts, most of which were questioning either her hearing or her sanity.
Princess Celestia took a longer route than usual to the throne room, taking the opportunity to read some more of her book, How 2 B Hip by Pear O’dee. After all, the best way to connect with her little ponies—her dudes, Celestia reminded herself—would be to show them her casual side. She would show them she was not just a stiff princess with her nose in the air. She was hip. She was “chill,” as they say.
The previous chapter had been about modern lingo, and she was pretty sure she had that nailed down, so she started skimming the next one. It contained tips regarding fashion in the modern era. Celestia hardly wore anything aside from her regalia nowadays, so this was rather important information for her. The last time she tried dressing casually was… 300? 400 years ago? Those had been the days of fluffy neckerchiefs and dresses large enough to block a doorway. Good riddance.
“Let’s see here,” Celestia hummed to herself as she flipped through the pages.
The given examples were varied, but she found two main themes that stuck out. The first was jewelry. Lots of jewelry. Mostly gold chains, it seemed—she had plenty of those. The second was pants. Or was it a lack of pants? The pants she was looking at were doing a very poor job of being pants, usually resting around mid-thigh, well below the flank. Odd.
The final page of the chapter talked about accessorizing. Celestia dismissed most of the examples immediately; she couldn’t wear a hat over her crown, and she already had flashy shoes. She eventually decided on a pair of sunglasses, though they seemed awfully difficult to see with due to the shutter-like lines in front of the lenses. Was that the point of modern fashion? Clothing and accessories that served the opposite of their intended purpose?
Celestia mentally shrugged. Who was she to argue with what ponies liked? So all she needed were pants and sunglasses. That was certainly doable.
The next morning, Celestia woke up earlier than normal to pick up the items she had requested. To her surprise, the little shutters on the sunglasses did not obstruct her vision as much as she expected. The pants, however, gave her pause.
As she slipped them on, the first thought to run through her mind was, “Goodness, these are far too large.” This led to a brief moment of euphoria at actually being too small to fit in something. All her life, she had only ever faced the opposite problem. That wonderful moment was crushed when she remembered the pants were intentionally designed to be too large for normal wear. Of course.
Celestia enjoyed breakfast alone in her room, definitely not sulking because sulking was not cash money, and then prepared for day court. Several of the staff gave her odd looks as she half-waddled her way to the throne room. Her new pants constantly threatened to slip down to her ankles, and the gold chains clinked loudly with each step. The sunglasses were not much better; they blocked the interior light, which made it rather difficult to see where she was walking. She was certain they would be great to wear outdoors, but unfortunately she lived and worked in a palace. Being a princess was hard.
As she was about to enter the throne room, Celestia took a deep breath and mentally reviewed her list of phrases and lingo. Satisfied in the knowledge that she could pass as a real G, she opened the door and stepped through.
“Good morning, my dudes,” she greeted the waiting guards as she made herself comfortable on the cushioned throne. “Let us begin.”
The guards, normally quite stoic, hesitated. They looked at each other, then to Celestia, then back to each other. One eventually shrugged and magicked open the main doors, ushering in the first pony of the day.
A portly stallion entered with a low bow, not looking up from the floor. “Princess Celestia,” he said.
“Greetings, my dude,” Celestia smiled. “What it do?”
The stallion started to speak, but he froze as the words registered in his mind. He finally looked up and saw his princess dressed in the modern casual style of Equestria. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly, his large cheeks reminding Celestia of a pufferfish. When he found his voice again, it was strained and breathless.
“Erm, my apologies, Princess, but the streets on the northern side of the market district are littered with potholes. They makes it exceedingly difficult to carry goods to and fro by cart.”
“I see,” Celestia nodded solemnly. “That is certainly not cash money. I will have repairs made as soon as possible.”
The stallion hesitated before bowing low once more. “Thank you, Princess,” he said as he started backing out of the room.
“You are quite welcome, my dude,” she smiled. “Stay turnt.”
The next few petitioners were treated to the same casual side of Celestia as the first. Each one was greeted with a “yo” or a “what it do?” (with the occasional “how it do?” thrown in for flavor), and dismissed with a gentle reminder to “stay turnt.”
They seemed to respond well, at least in Celestia’s mind. There were much fewer attempts to argue or bargain when she offered resolutions to civil disputes. In fact, many of her dudes even asked how she was feeling.
It was nice being treated like a friend instead of a princess for once.