The Ponyville Dust Disaster
Characteristic Ponyville mornings consist of bright, sunny skies, peppered with the fluffy clouds that settle over the crystal blue just above the horizon. If you look close enough, squint through the cloud cover up above, you can just see the diving and dipping pegasi that hail from Cloudsdale. Dust Devil's always wanted that, eyes trained on the flight patterns as he walks.
He's spent his whole life in Ponyville. Perhaps, if things were different, he'd live in Cloudsdale with all the greats. He knows that his mother would like that, more than she wishes him to, but there's little to be done about it. Not with mom being a unicorn and all.
Rainbow Dash's plaque of accomplishment sits in the Wonderbolts HQ Complex, and a stained glass window depicts her legendary Sonic Rainboom for all visitors to see in the Canterlot Castle. Most of Dusty's home is filled with these images and certificates, ensuring that he never forgets just who his mother is. Not to be outdone, mom's got her own catalogue of accomplishments. Fleur de Lis is a model. She's the cream of the crop, ensuring that Dusty will never enter any social event without immediately hearing about how he could be Equestria's Next Top Model.
Dust Devil trots through town, the sound of his hooves clattering against the hard packed dirt floating up to his ears in a strangely comforting fashion. It's what he's always known, and, though a part of him longs to vacate it for softer streets and feathers brushing against the walls of cirrus packed walls, there are certainly worst places.
The Ponyville elite mill about him, greeting the young foal with smiles and cheery hellos. “Off to Sweet Apple Acres, I take it, dear?” Dusty glimpses to his right, where the voice has come from. Mrs. Cake stands with her head cocked, accompanied by Pumpkin and Pound Cake, who groan about how she always gets swept up when they’re busy.
Dusty shrugs. “I’m supposed to pick up the post for mom,” but it’s no secret that he’s spent a great deal of the summer spending his time with the Apple family (and, by extension, Sweet Ambrosia).
Pumpkin turns her head to Dusty, kicking up a bit of the dirt before her. “Hopefully you don’t forget again. If getting distracted by your precious Amber counts as ‘forgetting’—“ she’s cut off by Mrs. Cake’s firm scolding, which comes in the form of a swift bump to the shoulder. “Sorry. Was good to see you, Dusty.”
It’s always a pleasure to see Pumpkin Cake. Not. Fleur says she’s got spunk, which Dash claims is a lot of words to say she’s a snotty preteen.
Dusty sweeps the ground behind him as he returns to the task at hand: collecting the post. The high rate of turnover at the Ponyville Post Office is nothing to scoff at, and Dash has never taken too kindly to her packages turning up late. Not with all the fan mail she receives.
“Amethyst?” He calls as he steps into the small building, dimly lit by the creaky overhead lights. A small unicorn mare stands behind the wooden slab that functions as a counter, mane a mess. Behind her are disorganized mail slots that would send Twilight Sparkle into a tizzy. Amethyst Star’s been running the post office ever since Dusty can remember, ever since Muffins decided a business partnership was in order. “Amethyst! It’s Dusty.”
Amethyst blinks fully at the foal. “Dust Devil. Yep. Yeah. Hi! Here for your mail?” She attempts a smile, but Dusty can tell it means she hasn’t the faintest idea where it is in the mess of packages and crumpled envelopes.
“I can come back. If you need,” Dusty peers over her shoulder, notices how her form sags with relief at the lack of urgency. What catches his eye, however, is the peeling poster studded on the wall to her left: Rainbow Dash, a disc of prismatic light emanating off of her form, giving her the appearance of a celestial being.
The Sonic Rainboom, depicted in every image of his mother he’s ever seen. It’s her pride and joy, something Dusty accepted long ago. Something somewhere deep inside of him knows that if he could do the same, he’d be up there with the greats, at least in her mind. That same thing tells him he can’t, not really, but he’s never been one to back down from a challenge.
When his hooves take him out of the post office, he can hardly stop his wings from taking him higher and higher, until he’s hovering above the cloud line and staring down at the specks that make up Ponyville’s population from the sky. One Sonic Rainboom, coming up.
Dusty readies himself, adjusting his body and starting a slow pace towards the ground. He’s gaining speed, surely, and the wind begins to sting his eyes as he approaches the ground. Something history books don’t tell you about a Rainboom is how much the wind pushes you, though, and despite the foal’s desperate attempts to regain control, the wind seems to laugh in his ears as he spirals. Out of control, too fast to stop.
Around him, dust is kicking up. The wind pulls it from the ground to the air, manifesting in a twister that sweeps Dusty along with it, and he can just faintly hear the sound of the town below shrieking in fear. A flash of blue darts across his vision before it all goes black.
The world isn’t monochrome for long, no. When Dusty opens his eyes, he sees a thin coating of a faintly orange dust covering the center of town. Envelopes litter the ground, and the entire roof of the post office lays decimated around the exterior. The buildings at the post office’s sides boast holes in the roofs and walls, and mailboxes have been violently ripped from the ground. Rainbow Dash stands above him, gaze stern. “Dust Devil. What were you thinking? I mean, I appreciate a little adventure, but come on!”
Dusty sits up and blinks slowly. Something else feels different. Hardly aware of the gasps and groans of the ponies around him (none seriously hurt, thank Celestia), he looks to his flank. There, sat pretty on his hip, is a cutie mark. The very thing he had spent countless hours begging for, right there.
A twister.
Dust looks back to the post office, where Amethyst is frantically attempting to gather up envelopes.
“I forgot the post again.”