> Astrarian's Flashfic Anthology > by Astrarian > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Unspoken > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Octavia’s jaw slackens when she spots Vinyl Scratch in the front row. She feels faint. The question she’s asked every day for months leaps into her dry mouth. But she can’t say it, because she’s still on stage and the orchestra is taking a bow. Vinyl looks back at her, a tremulous smile pulling at the corners of her muzzle. Where have you been? Barely expecting an answer, Octavia mouths it, a silent plea that goes unnoticed by everypony else. Vinyl’s smile fades. She shrugs and shakes her head, as if she hadn’t understood. Octavia doesn’t believe her. Because Vinyl Scratch is superb at reading lips. Because Octavia learned about non-verbal communication from Vinyl herself. She learned that it isn’t enough. Octavia snaps her mouth shut and shakes her own head sharply. The curtain comes down with a finality that Vinyl’s absence had somehow lacked, and she blinks away tears. > I'm Flying Without Wings > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Let go of the balloon!” Cherry Berry screamed. “No!” Berryshine screamed back, hanging onto the final rope lashing the balloon to the ground for dear life. “You can’t just leave me!” “You’re crazy!” “Me? You’re the one screaming like a lunatic and leaving town!” Berry yelled back. “I am not leaving town!” Cherry hollered. “We’re fighting, not breaking up! I’m at work! You can’t hold a balloon back, you’ll hurt yourself, or worse! And you’re ruining Button’s birthday flight!” “Is she gonna get pulled off the ground?” Button Mash asked breathlessly. “Ugh, no, she’s not!” With a grunt of rage Cherry leaned over the side of the basket and pulled her irredeemable girlfriend into the basket, just before the rope unraveled and the balloon launched into the sky. “You’re crazy!” Cherry repeated. “I love you!” “I love you too but like I said, you’re crazy!” “You’re both crazy,” Button muttered. > Chatoyant > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “You’re sitting on my throne.” Within a stripe of warm evening sunlight sits the throne and Luna, all four legs tucked under her body. Her eyes are closed; her body vibrates contentedly. A gentle rumble permeates the air. She ignores Celestia. “I see.” Celestia pauses on the top step of the dais. “Do you hear that noise?” The rumbling stops as Luna opens her eyes – chatoyant, gleaming.  “Noise?” she rasps. “What have you done today?” Celestia asks instead. Luna blinks leisurely. “I... slept. I visited Rarity’s cat. Then I came here, and slept again.” Celestia nods. Dreamwalking. What a concept. Luna stretches, thoughtfully. “I remember... she came here once. She… sat here, did she not?” Celestia reaches out. “You did, Opalescence.” She strokes Luna’s head, and smiles when soft rumbling begins anew, as Luna kneads her hooves in the velvet beneath her rump. “But you didn’t purr last time.” > Useful > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Granny, I told ya already, me an’ Big Mac’ve got this!” “Ptooey, times like this ya need all hooves on deck.” Beyond AJ and Mac, Granny sees there’s at least a dozen leaning trees, split trunks, exposed root tangles. There’ll be more further in. Some trees are always gonna get ‘emselves uprooted by a storm so fiesty. Time is of the essence when it comes to fixin’ the mess. “You’re in no shape to be digging an’ pulling trees upright.” “Consarn it, I know that!” But the anger’s a spark that flares out quick. She sags, weighed down by everything she can’t do no more. “Granny…” “I can still survey which trees we can save,” she mutters. “It’s dangerous underhoof—” “I ain’t an invalid! Just old!” She lifts her chin high. “Don’t tell me how to walk around my own farm!” No time for moping when there’s trees to save. > Rise and Shine > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Spike. Good morning.” Twilight. Singsong voice. Entirely unwelcome. “Uhhnngh? What? Morning?” The tiniest squint revealed the sun wasn’t awake either. “I thought we could watch the sunrise together,” said Twilight. “I need to observe normal practice for raising the sun.” Spike burrowed away though the adrenaline rush of being woken flooded his body. “Do it without me.” “I know it’s early, but there’s no need to be rude.” Rude. Him? Now? Hardly! He wouldn’t stand for it… “Spike,” Twilight insisted. “You can’t be serious,” he pleaded. “This is completely unreasonable! You didn’t put this in the planner!” He heard Twilight gasp, because he was correct. But the damage had already been done. Dreams, dashed. Sleep, ruined. Chance of returning to sleep, zero. Spike whined and threw back the covers. “You owe me!” “Pancakes?” “Pancakes all week,” he demanded. “With sprinkles and gems.” “Whatever you want.” Not exactly! “Huh!” he huffed. > Catch > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bruised clouds throbbed beneath her. Rainbow Dash’s skin prickled in the electrifying air. A lightning bolt tore the sky apart. She reeled. All she could see was lightning. Yet she couldn’t see Lightning. Where was Lightning Dust? Where? Breathless, afraid, she stared. The dark storm raged beneath her—but there! There! There she was. Every detail of her outline shone against the darkness, from the curve of her slack muzzle to the sweep of her limp, outstretched wings. There she was. A turquoise arrow with a golden head, swallowed by the roiling storm. Lightning Dust. Falling. Dash dropped, muscles afire, plunging through buffeting winds. Pressure built around her leaden legs, her straining wings, her desperate heart. The atmosphere bent around her, piercing the storm’s heart, clouds sloughing off behind her. Then a flash. Colour, everywhere. Within her embrace, Lightning Dust—cold, wet, still. Murmuring. “Rainbow Dash,” she said. Alive. > Good Night > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- When Rarity was young, her daddy tucked her into bed every evening and sang good night to her. She never sang along, but she smiled. She stopped calling him Daddy as she grew older. She got self-conscious, stopped smiling. At some point he stopped singing. Now Sweetie Belle is young, and their father sings the same song to her. On her infrequent visits home, Rarity sits downstairs with her mother and hears him singing, sounding further away than he actually is. She tries to remember the last time her father sang good night to her. Doesn’t. One night in the future will become the last night that he’ll sing to Sweetie Belle. Rarity likely won’t be present, won’t know the last time has happened until it’s already over. So she tries to memorise his singing voice now. She can’t smile; for her, the last time already happened. Still, she tries.