Introduction
Your name is... [name].
You are a... (stallion/mare).
Your coat is a wonderful shade of... [color], complemented by your mane's [color] splendor.
You possess the... (innate strength of the humble earth pony/agile wings of the noble pegasi/impeccable intellect of the magical unicorns).
You bear a terrible secret: you are... (a hermaphrodite/a changeling spy/one of Celestia's failed students{limited to unicorns}/a former Shadowbolt{limited to pegasi}/a completely normal pony).
...a hermaphrodite. It didn't take long to learn you were different from other ponies. Your parents were always so eager to turn any discussion of your body to other, less volatile subjects, leaving you oh so woefully ignorant of your 'uniqueness.' It wasn't until your first foray into young love that reality finally reared its ugly head. You don't remember much of that night. All you can really seem to recall is the face of that wide-eyed (colt/filly) staring at you with muted shock as (your petite member slid out of its sheathe and brushed past your barely developed breasts/you displayed your winking coltpussy resting just above your dangling testes, dripping wet with obscene fluids). The memory of exactly what happened next is little more than a dull haze, whether your very first special-somepony screamed, fled, or just quietly asked you to leave. It hardly matters now. You did learn one thing though; so long as others knew of your condition, you would always be treated, at best, as an outsider and, at worst, a freak. Which brings you to Ponyville, with a chance at a fresh start, a new beginning. And not to mention a longing in your loins long since left unfulfilled.
...a changeling spy. And not just your average, run-of-the-mill drone at that. You are the product of years upon years of selective breeding in a grand scheme headed by Queen Chrysalis herself, with countless generations of changelings lending unto you their accumulated skill in deception and subterfuge. You are the ultimate result of that plan, a changeling agent of unparalleled cleverness and independence, capable of making your own decisions regardless and even in spite of the hive. Your first act is an audacious one, especially amongst your more subservient peers: a long term solo infiltration of Ponyville, the seat of power for the newest Equestrian princess. Over the course of several months, you intend to slowly corrupt the Elements of Harmony and turn them to your side, bringing to bear Equestria's greatest weapon against itself. Queen Chrysalis, bitter defeat still fresh in her memory, seemed overwhelmingly pleased with your boldness and bade you good luck in your endeavor. Unbeknownst to your liege, the gift of autonomy has left you a hunger for not just love, but also glory, pleasure, and power. As you left your brothers and sisters behind to start on the long trek to Ponyville, you thought to yourself that perhaps it was time for a new dynasty to rule over the changeling empire.
...one of Celestia's failed students. But then again, failure is such a harsh term, so easily misconstrued. After all, in what manner exactly did you fail? You learned all you could from your professors. You absorbed every lecture, scoured the libraries of Equestria, and melted many a candle whilst poring over an ancient tome. The hunger for more was insatiable. It mattered not whether you devoured 'Daring Do and the Quest for the Sapphire Stone' or forbidden texts overburdened with dark magic. Is it not admirable for one to continue the noble pursuit of knowledge, limits be damned?
Your peers, your instructors, even the Princess herself; what you saw in their eyes was not esteem as you first thought. You know better now. It was fear, tinged sickly green with envy. They were deathly afraid of the power swelling within you. And in their dread, you were expelled from Princess Celestia's (so-called) School for Gifted Unicorns.
A farce! All of it! What is an academic institution that turns away those that show the greatest promise, if not some cruel joke? Every detail of that last, shameful dismissal is forever burned into your memory: Celestia's frigid, unyielding stance and the slow crane of her slender neck as she watched you leave. Even now, you can feel her piercing eyes bore into the back of your skull. And above all, that despicably tender disappointment in her voice. Your blood boils and the pace of your heart quickens at the memory.
You will show her. Perhaps a candid demonstration of your abilities in the form of tearing down everything she holds dear in this world will foster the proper respect you deserve. Yes, you'll start in Ponyville, with that precious former student of hers. Soon enough, all of Equestria shall bear witness as you outshine the sun itself.
...a former Shadowbolt. On wings of righteous fury you fly. You are a faithful follower of the Nightmare Queen, one of the few to welcome, nay, yearn for the eternal night she promised. You prayed everyday that every day would not come, that the sun would stay beneath the horizon and leave the heavens for the divine moon and her twinkling stars to rightfully reclaim for all eternity.
After years of unfaltering devotion, your patience was finally rewarded. She came to you in your dreams, every bit as majestic and magnificent as you thought she'd be. To see your liege for the first time in all her glory, to lock eyes with the Mare in the Moon after all these years and finally see those brilliant blue eyes gaze back; if this wasn't true before, then you were hers forever more. As you pledged undying loyalty, your mistress inducted you into her most trusted retinue: the enigmatic Shadowbolts. At long last, night fell over Equestria and no dawn would come to chase the dark away.
Of course, it was not to be. News of Nightmare Moon's defeat at the hooves of the newly christened Elements of Harmony traveled quickly. Even more devastating was word of Princess Luna's return. You refused to believe at first, but sure enough, morning came and wretched sunlight soon smothered the land once again. It wasn't until you visited Canterlot and saw the reunion of the Royal Sisters for yourself that all hope seemed truly lost.
But no, you did not despair. Instead, you raged. You raged against the dying of the night. Neither you nor your Queen shall go gently into that good day, not while you still draw breath. But so long as the Elements of Harmony serve the sun, Nightmare Moon can never rule over Equestria. So you shall pave the way for endless darkness, a path that begins and ends in Ponyville. When your mistress returns, it will be for the last time.
...a completely normal pony. You carry no such secret or shame. You have lived your entire life with the virtue and innocence that is so uniquely characteristic to ponyfolk. Safe, bland, innocuous: just a few ways to describe your existence up until this point. Without scandal to mire your life, your natural skills have been honed to a fine edge. Regardless, it can easily be said that you amount to little more than a footnote in the grand scheme of the universe, a background character in somepony else's story. Discontent builds up in you like a flooded river overwhelming a levee, until you decide to take fate by the reigns and strive for something greater. With wanderlust twinkling in your eyes, you set out for greener pastures; first stop: Ponyville.
Intro1
The journey is long and uneventful. Thick layers of sweat and dust blanket your coat, an unwelcome memento from your long travels. A sun-bleached knapsack bounces against your flank with every step, its lightness a constant reminder of your dwindling supplies and empty belly. Every now and then, you pass by a signpost displaying incrementally lowering numbers, as if counting down your imminent arrival to your destination. As you surmount a gentle hill, you indeed find the object of your journey within reach. Sitting at the base of the valley lies Ponyville, a perfectly picturesque presentation of small town Equestria, surrounded by softly rolling hills close-by and towering mountains in the far distance. The promise of a hot shower and a warm bed is enough to make you rear up on your hind-legs and whinny in excitement. As your forelegs hit the ground and you start to gallop towards town, the realization that a brand new chapter of your life is only about to unfold hits you like a knight on the receiving end of a lowered lance. The thought only propels you faster.
ChangelingspyIntro1 (expand to full sex scene?/original pony subplot?)
Once again, a weary sun dips below the far-flung horizon and leaves twilight to close out another dreary, overcast day. Where the waning light of twilight does not reach, shadows reign and issue forth malevolent desires.
Pale blue, insectoid eyes peer out unblinkingly from the cover of darkness. Your eyes to be precise. You stalk along the treeline that runs parallel to the main road leading in and out of Ponyville, patiently watching and waiting for a suitable pony to come along.
A week has passed since you had first come to infest the outskirts of Ponyville. Not too long a time all things considered, but long enough to leave you famished for a heaping dose of love. For seven days, you could do nothing but watch as ponies unwittingly entered and escaped your unseen clutches. So many opportunities to feed, so many helpless innocents overflowing with love left unmolested.
Just the other day, a young filly managed to summon enough courage to fetch water from a secluded well. Ah, simple words cannot describe how much you wished to reward her bravery with a clutch of your virile eggs, to be laid directly into her underdeveloped womb.
Earlier today, a couple pushing a baby carriage passed by on their afternoon stroll. The stallion and mare relentlessly teased you with the love they had for one another and their foals. Their love was absolutely palpable, radiating off of them like light from a pitched torch. It could've been so easy to take the husband: a branch snaps and the mare turns her head reflexively; the husband is pulled into the bushes by some unseen force; 'he' reemerges from the foliage before the mare can even notice he was ever gone. And all in the blink of an eye. You would have been sure to impregnate 'your' wife again that very night, perhaps even give 'your' foals a taste of your fatherly love.
A lesser changeling might’ve given in to their hunger long ago, but you however are made of finer stock, and the task at hoof demands a more deft approach. For ponies to start turning up with bellies full of changeling eggs would raise too much suspicion too soon. Furthermore, you do not intend to repeat the fatal mistakes that brought ruin to your Queen's prior plans. It's clear to you that Mother's royal wedding ruse was bound to fail sooner or later; a changeling disguise can fool even the most perceptive of eyes, but a pony's heart can and will see through all deception, no matter how subtle.
So you await a lonesome stranger, a pony with no attachments or obligations in Ponyville. You still hunger, but you restrained yourself easily enough. You simply drew comfort in knowing that you will have your fill and more soon enough.
You take a break from musing over your own superiority as the faint 'clip clop' of distant hoofsteps drifts down the road. You freeze, ears perking up to get a better sense of who or what is coming. You smile. More prey comes to tug at the strands of your web. As per the last several days, you retreat slightly deeper into the forest and prepare an ambush.
The hoofsteps gradually grow closer and closer, until a (male/female) (earth pony/pegasus/unicorn) eventually comes into view. Thick layers of sweat and dust blankets their [color] coat, clearly an unwelcome memento from a lengthy journey. On (his/her) flank bounces a sun-bleached knapsack that jostles and jingles freely with every tired step.
As obvious an outsider if you've ever seen one. At last, it seems your wait has come to an end.
The dying light of day provides a suiting backdrop to your hunt. You open your mouth and the tender voice of a lost filly calls out to the weary traveler. "Help, help," the voice seems to whisper. The pony stops and looks around in confusion. And so your prey is snared.
[Start your new life]
You step out of the darkness and onto the main road, your equine hooves coming to rest on brick and mortar for the very first time. Already, the last couple of minutes feel like little more than a distant blur, a whirlwind of love and lust, of new memories to be remembered and a name gained.
[Name]. You laugh to nopony in particular, a stranger’s laugh in a stranger’s voice. Well [name], remind yourself that you will eventually need to come back out here and take care of the glossy-eyed, cum-leaking pony trapped in that hollow tree later. But for now, best hurry and enter Ponyville proper before night falls. They say monsters roam these woods.
Town1
You stand atop the circular veranda of town hall, which offers you a commanding view of the town square. The center of Ponyville hustles and bustles with vibrant energy. A pair of spirited fillys chase each other around a softly babbling fountain. A group of farm-ponies had set up several stalls around a venerable looking oak tree, hawking a colorful assortment of fresh produce beneath its shade. A modest crowd gathers around a makeshift stage as two magically moving puppets pummel each other with tiny wooden clubs. Everywhere you look, ponies move to and fro about their busy lives. This seems about as good a day as any to explore your new home and meet its inhabitants.
[Explore]
[Go to the Castle of Friendship]
[Go to Sugar Cube Corner]
[Go to Carousel Boutique]
[Go to Sweet Apple Acres]
[Go to Fluttershy's cottage]
[Go to Rainbow Dash's cloudominium]
[Go to the rally field]
[Go to the schoolhouse]
[Go to the Cutie Mark Crusaders clubhouse]
[Go to the Ponyville Day Spa]
[Brave the Everfree Forest]
[Check time]
[Return home]
Explore1
It doesn't take long to find someplace that might make for suitable lodgings. After a brisk walk through Ponyville, you quickly stumble upon the town inn. The building is modest, but comfortable-looking. Above the door hangs a sign depicting a pony peacefully dozing away in a feather bed. You step inside to find a cozy, fire-lit interior and an aged stallion behind a wooden counter. You figure he must be the inn's proprietor, judging by the inky ledger that lays before him. The gray-maned earth pony takes one brief look at your sorry state before wordlessly pushing towards you a wickerbasket overflowing with freshly baked bread rolls. You can see visible tendrils of heat still radiating off of them.
[Eager]
[Humble]
[Refuse]
####
[Eager] You dig into the proffered rolls with wild abandon, finishing off the sizable basket in a matter of seconds. Crumbs litter the counter-top like rubble on a devastated battlefield. You belch loudly, far too content to mind your manners at this point. The proprietor only smiles in response, evidently happy that you left nothing to waste.
[Humble] You timidly pick up and nibble at a single roll, being careful not to drop any stray crumbs onto the wooden counter-top. The roll is obviously home-made with almost gratuitous amounts of not-good-for-you, but oh-so-good ingredients. The fluffiness of the bread is belied by its richness; it's as if you can actually feel the butter that went into the roll melt in your mouth. Despite your earlier hunger, one bread roll is more than enough to sate your belly. The proprietor takes notice of your restraint and only nods in silent acknowledgement, a token of appreciation at your modesty.
[Refuse] You stretch out your neck and push the basket back with your muzzle, letting the rolls come to rest squarely on the proprietor's side of the counter. Does he think you were born yesterday, for you to take strange food from some strange pony? Besides butter and flour, who knows what else could be baked in there? Not to mention your funds are alarmingly short at the moment; though he hadn't asked for coin as of yet, you've no doubt he'll spring some exorbitant price on you at first bite. You've lived long enough to learn that when something is too good to be true, it probably is, and you certainly aren't getting scammed immediately upon arrival to Ponyville. The proprietor merely shrugs his shoulders in apparent indifference.
####
Once you've finished, the proprietor finally speaks up. He warmly welcomes you to Ponyville and his humble establishment. After the two of you exchange introductory pleasantries, he offers you the single room currently available. With a quick jingle of your coinpurse, you confirm that you cannot afford his more than reasonable rates, much to the proprietor's unsurprise.
He proposes a deal. The ease and swiftness with which he eases into this 'deal' leads you to think he has had this conversation many a time before. Though he cannot give you the room in the inn, he does keep a small shed in the inn's back garden for just such a pony as yourself. The dusty old thing isn't exactly a cloudominium, he admits, but it'll keep the rain off your head and the chill of night away. In exchange, he promises not to charge rent until you've gotten yourself settled in town, with accruing interest in the meantime of course. As might be expected, the inn's typical amenities such as room service and breakfast will be unavailable to you. He also expects you to maintain the shed itself and its immediate surroundings to the best of your abilities. How you do this is up to you, the proprietor mentions, so long as the place doesn't look like it's falling apart.
You get a feeling that you won't find a better deal anywhere else in town. You also don't find the prospect of spending your first night in Ponyville squatting in somepony's stable or camped out on the edge of the Everfree Forest particularly appealing. With nightfall quickly approaching, it's clear that you have no choice but to take the proprietor's offer. Maybe at some point later down the line you'll be able to find more proper accommodations, but for now this will have to do.
Gossip with the Proprietor1
You step back into the inn's main foyer and, as per usual, find the proprietor standing behind the front desk. You get a sense that he's been expecting you. You walk up to him and ask what's the latest news in Ponyville.
Proprietor Advice1
"Princess Twilight and her friends might not actually bear the Elements of Harmony themselves anymore, but everypony still calls 'em the Elements regardless. It's a catchy little team name you gotta admit, and more to the point, they won't ever stop embodying what them Elements stood for, fancy stones or not."
Proprietor Advice2
"I might not look it, but I used to be an artist myself you know. I ain't saying my stuff hangs in museums or some such, but you've might've seen my work here and there. Oh, don't be getting too worried now, I know there's nothing more dull than listening to some old coot prattling on about the good ol' days. I try not to wear that part of my past on my sleeve."
Proprietor Advice3
"You ever find it weird how we use 'pony' for most phrases and 'person' for others? Take 'in person' for instance. 'In pony' just doesn't sound all that good for some reason. I suppose 'person' can be more inclusive, in case we were in the company of a zebra or griffon or what not."
Proprietor Advice4
"Feel free to pick any King’s Bane you see in the garden. Blasted stuff is choking out my vegetable patch; might as well be a weed the way it grows so quickly. The missus convinced me to plant a few seedlings a decade or so ago. Didn’t get to make use of it nearly as often as I would’ve hoped if you catch my meaning."
Proprietor Advice5
"Rumor has it that Princess Twilight had a secret vault built in her castle. Ask her or any of her friends and they’ll deny such a thing exists obviously. Of course, that doesn’t stop ponies from imagining what might be inside. Rare spellbooks, magical artefacts, cursed pirate gold; ask fifty ponies what could be in there and you’ll get fifty different answers. Only thing everypony seems to agree on is whatever’s in there must be damned valuable to the princess, assuming it’s real in the first place."
Proprietor Advice6
“When I first opened this inn, I had to spend most of my savings bringing the ol’ girl up to code. This was a whiles before Ponyville had a resident Princess, mind you, so I wasn’t exactly swimming in customers. Money was tighter than a griffon’s coin purse back then, there were some days I could’ve sworn I’d be sleeping on the street by sundown.
One rainy day, this big, mean looking stallion comes to me, drops a big ol’ bag of bits in front of my face, and tells me it’s mine. And all I had to do was refuse the next pony that walked through my door. He leaves and I put the bag aside, wondering what in Tarturus just happened. Not long after, a mare, soaked to the bones, tumbles her way through my doorway. Throws her hood back, and I’m staring into the two deepest baby-blues I’ve ever seen. Says she’s far from home and she’d marry me for a good bowl of stew. Sweet thing asks for a warm room and a dry place to rest her sore hooves.
I glanced back at the bag and thought about the stallion’s deal. It was no choice at all really. I mean, what kind of monster would I be, to toss out a weary traveler from my own inn, into the rain no less? It wasn’t like she was trying to stiff me either, she had the coin to pay. And I always did pride myself over the fact that I had never denied a guest up until then. Or since.
Except that once. I told that poor mare to walk right back into that storm and not look back. She bargained, she pleaded, she begged, but I was stubborn. No, I was weak. Damn me, I was weak. So she left, and I never saw her or the stallion ever again. Not a day goes by that I don’t wonder what I had a hoof in. I hope she found a place to stay that night.”
Home1
Your shack has certainly seen better days. A large stump sits directly atop the dirt path that connects the inn’s backdoor to your shack. All manner of weeds and shrubbery battle for what precious little sunlight that does manage to reach the ground. Thick vines run up the sides of the shack's exterior walls, even managing to pierce through ever-widening cracks here and there. The building itself looks to be at a permanent thirty degree slant, as if a particularly strong gust of wind had swayed it at one point and it just never bothered to right itself since.
Home2
Your shack isn't so much a ‘fixer-upper’ as it is a ‘burn it down and move somewhere with a higher income per capita with the insurance money-upper.’
Explore2
The town seems eerily silent today. Perhaps everypony is at a party elsewhere? You spend the rest of the afternoon sulking about and pondering why you weren't invited to this hypothetical celebration you just imagined up and in all likelihood doesn't exist.
Explore3
You wave hello to a passing farmpony. He quietly tips his head in response.
Explore4
You attend a public lecture. You feel a bit smarter.
Rainbow1
You decide to do a bit of window shopping, visiting a few of Ponyville's shops and businesses. Variety is surprisingly diverse, given the town's relatively modest size. Like any other rural community, the general and hardware stores serve as Ponyville's economic backbone, whilst sprinkled around are also the more atypical jewelry store, joke shop, and bowling alley, just to name a few. After perusing a positively electrifying establishment that dealt exclusively in quills and sofas, you quickly step back outside before the shopkeeper could further tempt you with lurid thoughts of late night penning sessions atop phoenix feather-stuffed loveseats.
As you ponder what store to hit next, a sudden burst of motion in the skies above catches your attention. You squint your eyes and manage to spot a cyan pegasus streaking across the wild blue yonder, fast enough to leave wispy contrails in her wake. You watch as she performs daring acts of aerial acrobatics, from barrel rolls to loop-de-loop-de-loops and everything in between. For what seems to be the pegasus's grand finale, she climbs higher and higher in the sky as if trying to straddle the sun itself, before folding her wings against her body and tumbling back over into a death-defying dive.
At least, you hope she’ll defy death as her plummet continues unabated. The distance between her and the ground closes fast. Alarmingly fast. The revelation that she isn't going to level out in time hits you like a falling meteorite. Beads of cold sweat trickle down the back of your neck. Your stomach lurches violently downwards. Before your brain can even signal for your legs to get moving, you're already galloping towards the free-falling mare's future crater.
No matter how fast you can run, there is no possible way to reach her in time. That much quickly becomes clear. Even if you somehow did, what good would that be? At this point, the most you can do to help is to make sure she's still breathing after she hits the ground.
Time doesn't slow as she nears terra firma; in fact, the falling mare is nothing more than a whistling blue blur against a bright blue backdrop as she hurtles ever downward. After what feels like mere moments since you've started running, she finally crash lands in a dirt field up ahead, the impact itself hidden by tall banked hedges. But what an impact it must've been; you leap over the hedgerow to see a thick cloud of dust further obscuring the immediate area. Fearing the worst, you raise a foreleg to shield your eyes and slowly approach the point of impact.
You were expecting to find the crumpled form of an injured pony, but as the dust clears, an upright figure gradually materializes from the gloom. The falling mare stands before you with wings outstretched, glossy cyan fur drenched in sweat and a striking rainbow mane swept back wildly, but completely unharmed otherwise. Her eyes are closed; her head held high. Her chest visibly rises and falls with deep, greedy gulps of air.
With both eyes still closed, she yells out,"Haha, yes! Now that was a close one!" Her voice absolutely drips with confidence, not at all what most ponies that had just played chicken with the ground would probably sound like. But then again, you've already gotten the impression that this mare is not like most other ponies. She lifts a hindleg to stretch and you can spy cracks in the hard dirt where her hoof rested. Looking around, there are a number of such cracks all about the field, all of similar size and grouped in fours.
"Alright Scoots, what's my time? Scoots? Scootaloo? Where'd that filly run off to this time?" Still holding that triumphant pose, she cracks an eye open to peak around, only to find you.
"You're no Scootaloo I've ever seen. I don't suppose you were timing me? I gotta know if I broke my old record!"
[Record?]
"Yeah, I've been trying to get my braking altitude down all day. I think I got it under the treeline this time!" She giggles excitedly, before raising an eyebrow to look at you.
"What, did you think I was falling for real? Hah, as if! Everypony knows it takes more than a little high-elevation tailslide into delayed free fall to make a Wonderbolt wipe out.”
"Oh, I get it. Doin' some joggin' lately or were you running to come save little ol' helpless me?" she says, pointing out the obvious sheen of moisture on your coat. On her face is what can only be charitably described as a shit-eating grin.
"I wasn't sure if you just flew into Ponyville or not, but that clinches it. You gotta be from out of town if you don't know who I am. And if you don't know who I am, then you might as well be out of this world. So let's fix that; name’s Rainbow Dash: Wonderbolt, daredevil, all around awesomeness incarnate. So what do I call you, besides newbie?"
[Cheerful greeting]
[Proper greeting]
[Brusque greeting]
[Flirty greeting]
####
[Cheerful greeting] Relief washes over you immediately, easing all the coiled tension in your limbs. While Rainbow Dash might not have been in any real danger, her apparent brush with death felt real enough to you just then. Adrenaline surged into your veins all the same, pushing you beyond your normal limits as you raced to her aid, unnecessary as it was.
You feel like jumping with joy and embracing Rainbow Dash in earnest appreciation of the precious, fragile little thing that is life. You certainly would at least, if it weren’t for the invisible anchors that had all of a sudden moored themselves to your limbs. Even the simple act of telling Rainbow your name is a labored, arduous ordeal, as if your lungs had decided that such use of valuable air was a frivolous waste.
“You okay dude?” Rainbow inquires, “Hey, take a sec to catch your breath.” A subtle, but noticeable, shift in tone marks her words; gone is that carefree arrogance that punctuated her every move, replaced now with very real concern for your well-being. The petite mare sidles up beside you and presses her body to yours, allowing you to rest against her.
“You look like you’re going to pass out. Maybe you shouldn’t have pushed yourself so hard.” She isn’t wrong on either accounts. You thank Rainbow Dash for lending a shoulder to lean on.
[Proper greeting] Well oh well, seems you've just met somepony of import, and a celebrity at that. Regardless, you couldn't possibly introduce yourself to a pauper in your current state, much less a member of the illustrious Wonderbolts. You take a moment to compose yourself, closing your eyes and taking long, measured breaths to calm your rapidly pumping heart. In no time at all, any indications of your harried race are gone without a trace and you're looking presentable enough to attend the Grand Galloping Gala at a moment's notice, if you may say so yourself.
With that out of the way, you're free to greet Rainbow Dash properly. Seeing as how her hooves are doubtless drenched in sweat, you forgo the usual kiss on the hoof for a simple hoofshake. Rainbow looks at your outstretched hoof and smirks, before raising her own and meeting you halfway.
Just as you finish giving her your name, you find your introduction cut off mid-sentence as she takes the opportunity to use your leg as leverage and yank you into a sweaty, surprise hug. She wraps herself tightly around you, wings and all, in an athlete’s embrace that hums with camaraderie and good-natured horeseplay.
You eventually manage to pull yourself away from her grasp, but not before Rainbow is able to leave a sweaty impression of her face on your now twice-ruined coat. The ever widening frown on your face is juxtaposed by Rainbow’s obvious attempt at suppressing a bout of giggles.
[Brusque greeting] Clearly, humility isn’t one of this mare’s strong suits. You stare at Rainbow in stark disbelief for a good minute or two, completely blown away at how a pony can be this lacking in self-awareness. You tersely give her your name, which is quickly followed by a not-so-friendly reminder to the ungrateful pegasus that you ran your ass off to get here.
“Yeah I can tell, dude. You’re breathing harder than a mare in heat. Drenched like one too,” Rainbow pauses to chuckle at her own joke.
“And like I said, I’m the last pony in Equestria that will ever need rescuing,” Rainbow says proudly as she rears up on her hind-legs and boxes with an imaginary opponent. “You can count on that.”
“In fact, chances are I’ll be the one saving your hide at some point down the line. No need to thank me, just think about buying your future savior a drink or two when cider season comes along.”
It makes sense now actually when you think about it; of course Rainbow Dash would be a Wonderbolt. All that hot air must help with buoyancy, and the sky really does seem like the only place with enough room for her and her ego.
[Flirty greeting] Everything about Dash screams an unspoken refusal to accept anything less than first place. As expected of a professional flyer, her very body seemed built for speed at every other expense. She possessed an athlete’s physique, no doubt sculpted over years of intense exercise and eating healthily. Hardly a trace of fat marred her outline; her lithe body instead wrought solely with taut, sinewy muscle.
Unfortunately for her, that biological predisposition for carving through wind and cloud had somewhat cheated her of stature. She was subtly, but still noticeably, smaller than most ponies, a little factoid you take almost perverse pleasure in. You can’t help but love the way Rainbow Dash has to tilt her head slightly upwards to look you in the eyes with that cocksure attitude of hers.
All in all, you can already get an idea of what she’d be like in the bedroom. Something akin to taming lightning you’d imagine, a tight little ball of insatiable energy to be placated or broken at your discretion.
You smile at her, baring teeth like a wolf’s grin, and introduce yourself. There’s an edge to your words, a subtle tone that tips off to its true purpose: a challenge.
Your tacit challenge might as well be a whip’s crack. Without a shadow of a doubt, Rainbow heard it loud and clear. Her body tenses up visibly, her eyes narrow dangerously, and a telltale smirk appears on her lips.
“I got a feeling me and you are gonna have a lot of fun.” And just like that, challenge accepted.
####
With nothing left to say, a lull settles between the two of you. You find yourself being drawn past Rainbow Dash’s deep magenta eyes. An unflinching confidence blazes behind them, fueled by the tenacious spirit that very visibly dwells within her.
But beneath it all, you glimpse something that manages to surprise you: a flash of vulnerability or perhaps a longing for something more tangible than simply breaking records; you can’t say for sure exactly, only that Dash has reason to keep it hidden away and out of view.
Rainbow takes notice of your staring and furrows her brow in response. She blinks and just like that, it’s gone, leaving you to wonder whether you really saw anything at all.
She coughs, "Well, it’s been fun dude, but I gotta bolt.” She takes to the air and hovers slightly above, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but most ponies can make the run between the middle of town and here without breaking a sweat. It looks to me like you’re pretty out of shape.”
Rainbow eyes you over before continuing, “There’s a rally field behind the train station. It’s got a running track, an obstacle course, the works. You can find me there most days. Stop by sometime and I can show you a thing or two, maybe even whip you into decent shape if I can find any spare miracles lying around. I’ll be seeing you around, newbie.”
Rainbow2 (only occurs if reader is low on bits/could use more choice)
For your wallet's sake, you didn't exactly have a king's breakfast this morning. Just a banana and some bread, anything more being a luxury you literally could not afford.
It was barely noon before the first hunger pangs struck. You ignored them of course, doing your best to cope with the rest of the day on an empty stomach. Unfortunately, hunger is a problem seldom solved by the passage of time (unless of course it's a lot of time).
Your abdomen growls loudly enough to draw the attention of passing ponies. You even start to feel a bit faint, your limbs gradually growing heavy and sluggish with every passing moment. Going any longer without food would almost certainly be a recipe for disaster. You have to eat something.
You open your coinpurse to set a lunch budget. Judging by the contents, you could maybe go to Café Hay and eat the flowers they set the tables with. No wait, those are the actual appetizers, so even that's out of the question.
There is always that option. To be more specific, the option that's all around you and completely free. That is to say, you could trot out to some nearby pasture and start grazing like some filthy fucking animal, or a cow. Now, you're no prude, but grazing fell out of public etiquette a good while ago and anypony caught eating off the ground is going to be called out for it regardless of whether or not grass is involved. That much is a given.
On the other hoof, you also want to not die. So in the interests of avoiding a slow wasting death by starvation, you make your way towards some literal greener pastures.
You eventually settle on a secluded meadow on the outskirts of town. Tall trees line the perimeter of the meadow, a comforting barrier from any prying eyes that might be near. Though numerous hoofprints are scattered across the ground, the area seems empty enough. You look around one last time, before lowering your head to the ground and the luscious aroma of wild grass fills your nostrils. You get cold hooves for a brief moment, pausing to consider a number of alternative avenues, from borrowing bits or pilfering produce, but a fresh wave of stomach cramps sweep away any and all remaining traces of hesitation.
No sense delaying any further. You close your eyes and a tuft of grass enters your mouth. Most of the meadow is hidden away under the shade of willows, leaving your impromptu lunch cool and crisp with morning dew. You bite down and tear the grass away. It tastes overwhelmingly of nature; a tall glass of cool spring water would be absolutely perfect right about now. Before long, you're happily chomping away at the tasty turf below, your tail swishing back and forth contentedly. Contrary to what you were expecting, you actually find yourself savoring every blade of gra-
"-MAJESTO!" Behind you, a brilliant flash of light momentarily illuminates the meadow, accompanied by the frenzied shouts of an overly theatrical mare.
"Voila! Be amazed by the dazzling display of mystifying magic you have all just borne witness! With the help of Trixie's lovely guest assistant, you have all been magically teleported to this clearing!"
You turn around to find an entire stage and accompanying audience has appeared behind you. Fortunately, the applauding audience has their backs turned towards you. Unfortunately, (the onstage magician/Trixie) might spot you at any moment. If you can sneak away quietly, you just may be able to end the day with some dignity intact.
"Teleporting a single pony: a difficult feat in of itself. Teleporting an entire audience? Impossible, were we not the Great and Powerful Duo of Trixie and Starlight! You will find complimentary sick bags beneath your seats... hey, you there! Pony in the back! Why do you abscond? Do we bore you so much that you'd rather slink away than further endure our show?! Wait... oh."
'Oh' is a major understatement. You swallow whatever grassy mush is in your mouth with a pained gulp. The grass stains on your chin however aren't so easily concealed. The crowd is already quieting down and turning their collective gaze towards you. If their whispering is any indication, everypony obviously knows what you've been up to. Various ponies voice their thoughts out loud:
"Is (he/she) grazing?"
"Eating grass off the ground, in this day and age?!"
"Do you think that pony is doing okay? (He/She) can't be, nopony would actually graze if they had a choice."
"Listen here hun, if you're hungry, you come straight to momma. You don't ever resort to what that poor pony's doing."
"Isn't that the pony that just blew into town?"
"Harumph, youngin's these days thinken' they're too good fer manners."
"I had no idea some ponies in Ponyville were so bad off. Maybe I should start a soup kitchen."
Blood rushes to your cheeks. Your vision blurs with fresh tears that tug at the corners of your eyes. Well, this could've gone a lot better. You've only just arrived, and already you're gonna be known as the pony that eats off the ground. On the bright side, at least you don't have to worry about starving to death anymore. Dying of shame is so much quicker.
You start backing up. Just as you are about to turn tail and gallop away as fast as your legs can carry you, a cyan pegasus flies out of the crowd and gently lands next to you. Rainbow Dash. She gives you a reassuring smile.
"Heya [name], small world huh? Is that a new manecut? 'Cause it looks like a new manecut and it is stylin'~," she says nonchalantly. "Oh, dude! You're on that new grass roots diet too?! That's crazy! I heard it was good, but I didn't think it would catch on that fast! Speaking of, I am starving." Before everypony's eyes, Rainbow Dash sniffs at a clump of grass before eagerly devouring it in a highly exaggerated manner, doing her best to chew and swallow as loudly as possible. She finishes off with a rowdy burp, individual blades of grass still clinging to her lower lip.
"Oh yeah, that's the stuff. Can't beat getting it straight from the source, am I right? Just feels more, I dunno, more natural that way. Not that I care all that much where my chow comes from, I just heard this diet can really bring out the luster in pegasus feathers. A Wonderbolt's always gotta look her best after all," she says, ruffling her feathers.
Rainbow's rambling stops you in your tracks. And everypony else for that matter, if their newfound silence is anything to go by. Seems it's getting late enough that the crickets are starting to come out. Rainbow looks at you confidently, her head held high and proud.
After what feels like an eternity, the crowd finally breaks the silence with some fresh perspective:
"Rainbow's such a weirdo."
"Don't chew with your mouth open!"
"I'm tellin' yah, all that air rushin' through a head does a pony no good. Does things to the noggin."
"Me thinks Rainbow Dash has done one too many sonic rainbooms, if you guys catch my drift."
"That reminds me, I really should trim the lawn. Who did I lend my scythe to again?."
"Hah, Rainbow's a carpet muncher!"
(The magician/Trixie) launches a firecracker that sails over the crowd and explodes overhead in a vibrant display of sparks. Having commandeered the mob's attention, she exclaims, "Enough! I will not have Trixie's show turn into a roast. To the park we return! PRESTO-" With that, she stamps her hooves and the entire stage and audience disappears in a familiar burst of light, leaving you and Rainbow Dash alone.
"Well that didn't go exactly according to plan, but I'll take it."
You turn to Rainbow and sheepishly thank her for committing social suicide on your behalf.
"Oh that? Don't mention it dude. Ponyville gossip doesn't leave Ponyville, and I bet everypony'll forget all about this by this time tomorrow, a few days tops. That kind of thing tends to happen we get attacked by some super villain every other month. How many has it been so far, four I think? I'm starting to lose count honestly."
You thank her again regardless. You try to salve your wounded pride by asking if you can somehow repay her.
"Repay me huh? Well now that you mention it, there is one thing I can think of. How 'bouts I join you for dinner? I phrased that like a question, but that wasn't really a question. I really am starving." She lets out a coy laugh.
"Now, where were we?" Rainbow Dash returns her head to the ground and starts nibbling at the grass below, a far cry from her earlier behavior. You smile for what feels like the first time today, ambling up to graze beside her. The two of you spend the rest of the day eating, talking, and enjoying each other's company. As the stars start to twinkle in the twilight sky, the grass somehow tastes all the sweeter.
Pinkie1
As you turn a blind corner, a mass of pink fluff slams into your chest and sends you tumbling to the ground. You land on your hindquarters with a hard *thud*, stars dancing in your vision. You shake your head and blink the stars away, only to find a pink mare with cotton candy for a mane staring at you, genuine concern etched onto her face.
The pink earth pony, evidently unfazed by the collision that left you reeling, exclaims, “Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry! That was totally my fault, I wasn't looking where I was going. My cutie mark started a'glowin and a'shakin, which means I've got to be at Twilight's castle, so you see I'm really really really in a rush!”
She speaks a mile a minute with the kind of boundless energy that straddles the line between endearing and annoying. However, you hear in her voice a tone one would typically use with an old friend, as if she had just bumped into somepony she had known her entire life. Between catching your breath and rubbing your bruised rump, you take a moment to glance at her cutie mark, a trio of colorful party balloons. True to her word, they vividly pulsate in a manner you can't say you've ever seen before.
“I don't wanna sound like a broken record, but I really am super duper sorry...” She stops speaking for just a moment and furrows her brow. The hyperactive mare leans precariously into your personal space and stares at you with sky-blue eyes, obviously trying to get a good read on you.
“...hmm, I don't know your face, which is weird cause I should know every face in Ponyville! Not to mention the names, birthdays, and favorite cupcake flavors to go with those faces. Which means-”
She gasps, as if you had just disclosed a particularly juicy piece of gossip.
“You must be new in town!” She picks you up and places you back on your hooves with strength that her small, if slightly pudgy, frame betrays and proceeds to brush off any dirt on your coat with a quick swipe of her cottony tail.
"My first impressions don't usually start off on such a low note, which means I'll just have to make the rest of my welcome twice as welcoming to make up for it!" She pauses and takes a deep breath, before saying, "Hiya! My name is Pinkie Pie and welcome to Ponyville!" She continues by bouncing around you whilst singing a simple, yet irresistibly catchy tune.
“I don't know you!”
“And you don't know me!”
“But that'll soon change!”
“'Cause my name is Pinkie!”
“Oh, the fun we'll have!”
“The things we'll do!”
“I don't know what they are!”
“But I'll be happy to do them with you!”
“I can already tell!”
“Life will never be the same!”
“With you here now!”
“So what's your name?”
[Cheerful greeting]
[Proper greeting]
[Brusque greeting]
[Flirty greeting]
####
[Cheerful greeting] You happily reciprocate Pinkie Pie's gleeful demeanor, taking her hoof and spinning her about in a sudden, impromptu dance number. You effortlessly transition into her song, turning it into a duet and even managing to surprise Pinkie with your exuberance. You answer her question in song as well, introducing yourself and giving her your name in a big, showy finale.
"Hehe, [name] is it? You're the funnest thing to happen to me all day, and I've been having one doozy of a fun day so far!" Pinkie says, giggling all the while, "Oh I just can't wait to introduce you to all my friends! Just wait 'till you meet Applejack! And Fluttershy! And Rainbow Dash! And Rarity! And Twi-"
[Proper greeting] You patiently wait for Pinkie Pie to finish her song. She concludes her musical number by crouching down and thrusting her head toward you like a filly about to receive a Hearth's Warming present. You gingerly step back and take one of Pinkie's hooves in your own. After introducing yourself eloquently, making sure to use a generous amount of purple prose and Prench phrases for good measure, you bow down and gingerly plant a dainty kiss on the pastern of her pink-furred hoof.
"OOooo, faaaaaancy. Well howdy doody (Mr./Ms.) [name]! Now, don't get excited or nothing, but I know a certain pony that would absolutely adore you! Her name's Rarity and I'm sure that the two of you are gonna get along like milk and chocolate! Not that I'm saying nopony else in town will like you; Ponyville is pretty much the nicest, most fullest of kindest ponies in all of the whole entire universe! Come on! Let's go see Rarity now, she's probably at Twi-"
[Brusque greeting] Oh great. Of all the ponies in town, you just had to bump into the annoying one. You sigh heavily, adopting a plainly irritated expression on your face. You try turning tail and heading elsewhere to perhaps find some more levelheaded company, but Pinkie blocks you at every move, almost impossibly at times.
Continuing around the corner, she follows doggedly, "Hey! You forgot to tell me your name!" Sprinting through a nearby alleyway, she pops out from a shuttered casement window, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to get away from some hideous creature!" Following a path through the park, she springs out of an adjacent bush, "Making new friends is like a walk in the park! Am I right, or am I right?!"
You sigh deeply once more, this time in resignation. You're obviously not gonna get anything done today with this pink pest hounding you at every step. You begrudgingly give Pinkie Pie your name and nothing else. You can't help but let a bit of venom seep into your words. Not that you care all that much.
"Looks like I've got another gloomy gus on my hooves!" Pinkie's eyes narrow and the corners of her mouth curl into a devious smile. Her voice lowers to a threatening whisper, "Just you wait [name], I'll crack your shell. I've done it before and I'll do it again. Maybe not today. Maybe not even tomorrow. But eventually. You. Will. Be. My. Friend." She giggles maniacally.
You raise an eyebrow and give her an incredulous look. "Oooo, tough guy eh? I like a challenge. I might need some backup though, and who better than the Princess of Friendshi-"
[Flirty greeting] Pinkie must've knocked you senseless for you to have only just realized how cute she is. In fact, just 'cute' might be a major understatement, as your vision gradually returns and her more curvaceous assets become apparent.
Even though Pinkie is facing you, you can still spy her generous hindquarters spilling out from her sides. Like a big stuffed animal, there is not a hint of sharpness or edge to her form. Her soft body, flowing mane, and fluffy tail all come together to form an incredibly innocent, yet alluring pony. You would like nothing more at this very moment than to take this mare to the nearest alley, dive into that irresistibly inviting mane, and rut her for the rest of the day and a better part of the night.
(You lick your pastern and smooth your ruffled mane back, making sure to give Pinkie a good view of your chiseled jawline and beefy forelegs./You bat your eyelashes and hungrily lick your lips, giving Pinkie a sultry stare all the while.) You saunter up to her and obligingly disclose some exceedingly personal details, including, but not limited to, your name.
"Wowwie zowwie! Seems like somepony wants to ride the fast track to friendship town, population: me! We only met, like, five minutes ago and we're already sharing secrets! Here's one of mine: I go through at least two barrels of glitter a WEEK! I don't even use that much glitter, I have no idea where most of it goes." It appears Pinkie is ignoring your advances. That, or she's innocently oblivious. "Twilight calls me an enigma. Speaking of, why do I get the feeling I'm forgetting something..?"
####
Pinkie visibly deflates, her ears flopping down limply against her head and her eyes growing wide as dinner plates. "Omigosh, I almost forgot! I need to go to the castle, but I also really want to show you the rest of Ponyville!"
She rapidly turns her head towards the Castle of Friendship in the distance, then you, then back to the castle repeatedly. She frowns, obviously mulling over a very serious decision in her head.
Finally she says, "I'm sorry, but I really have to go. Tell you what though, come by Sugarcube Corner later and I'll give you the perfect Pinkamena Diane Pie welcome that you deserve! Just look for the yummy-looking building with a gingerbread roof and cupcake top, you can't miss it!" She laughs coyly. "Hopefully we can 'bump' into each other again. But maybe not as hard next time. See you later alligator!"
Pinkie2 (sugarcube corner/not started)
Pinkie3 (tell u what id like to do her/not started)
"Why are you so awful?"
"Awfully nice!"
"You know what I want you to do to me?"
"Take me out on a nice date!"
"You know what I want you to whisper in my ear?"
"Sweet nothings of course!"
Pinkie4 (unfinished)
You brace yourself for a typical Pinkie Pie greeting as you enter Sugar Cube Corner. Any second now, you’re sure Pinkie’ll spring out of a coffee mug or something and playfully tacklehug you to the ground. Or maybe she’ll materialize out of thin air behind you when you least expect it and scare the living daylights out of you again. And who could forget that time she managed to convince the Pony Tones to deliver you a singing telegram that consisted entirely of singing ‘hello’ in as many keys and cadences as possible.
Oh, who are you kidding? You could see Pinkie ten times a day everyday for the rest of your life and you’re sure no two hellos would ever be alike. That pony is just so predictably unpredictable.
You suppose the expeditious thing to do would be to just get it over with and let the pink demon have her sweaty, brutal way with you.
Yup.
Any second now.
Rarity1
Your wandering takes you to the southern edge of town, where the Everfree Forest lies just a stone's throw away. It's still quite early in the day; Celestia's body sits low in the distant horizon, having only just begun its slow trek across the sky. You find yourself standing in the shadow of a baroque cylindrical building, draped in a myriad of colorful drapes and banners. What looks to be a ceremonial carousel forms the building's second story, complete with prancing pony statues round the balcony. A sign bearing an illustrated statue in a stylish pink dress hangs above the front door, betraying the building's identity as not only a home, but also a clothing shop.
While you can hardly say you're in desperate need of a (suit/dress) at the moment, it may prove prudent to introduce yourself to Ponyville's resident tailor. With that in mind, you casually push the door open and pass on through. A dainty chime announces your entrance to the seemingly empty parlor.
A feminine voice calls out from the top of the stairs directly opposite you, "Pardon my absence dear, be down in just a moment!" The voice speaks with an air of elegance and class that would befit the kind of pony that works in such lavish surroundings.
And lavish the surroundings are indeed. While the exterior alone easily ranks this place among the most richly decorated buildings you've seen thus far in Ponyville, the designer obviously reserved the majority of their talent for the interior.
This room is almost aggressively pink. Fuchsia curtains and bunting hang on every wall, so much so that it feels as if you've stepped into a spacious and exceedingly fancy tent. Whatever space that isn't covered with fabric is occupied by full-body mirrors. To your right, three such mirrors form a rough half-circle around a raised platform, no doubt intended to show off the tailor's premier merchandise from every angle.
To the left are your first real impressions of the tailor's talent in her craft. Six stunningly beautiful dresses hang from a metal rack, each its own visual cornucopia for the eyes. Several mannequins strewn across the shop display more of her skill. Even judging by this modest selection, it's plain to see that no color is beyond her imagination, no couture too extravagant, no design too intricate.
"Always nice to see a pony admiring my hard work." It seems the tailor had quietly made her way downstairs while you were busy ogling her wares. You pray she doesn't notice you ogling her now. Standing at the foot of the stairs is the tailor in question, a unicorn mare with striking white fur and a violet mane done up in a stylish coiffure that terminates into large, glossy curls. Her tail mirrors her manestyle, both utilizing the same smooth curls that remind you of the long, twirly ribbons typically adorning the tops of Hearth's Warming presents. Her deep, azure eyes are acutely reminiscent of the trio of gems that form her cutie mark.
"So sorry about the tardiness dearie, I don't typically get customers this early in the day and I make an effort get an errand or two done before noon. My oh my, you must be the newcomer everypony has been talking about. I must say, you're even cuter face-to-face. I am Miss Rarity and allow me to welcome you to Carousel Boutique, where every garment is chic, unique, and magnifique! To whom do I have the pleasure of addressing this exquisite morning?"
[Cheerful greeting]
[Proper greeting]
[Brusque greeting]
[Flirty greeting]
####
[Cheerful greeting] You prance up to Rarity, taking one of her hooves in your own and giving it a vigorous shake. Your greeting is short but sweet, a perfect encapsulation of who you are as a pony in one concise message. Rarity only looks at you and smiles in genuine curiosity. She patiently waits for you to finish, laughing drolly before saying, "Well aren't you a spirited one? And from the sounds of it, you've led quite the exciting life as well. I can't say I speak for all of Ponyville, but I am very happy you've made the move here. I can already tell you'll make for a wonderful addition to our quaint, little community."
[Proper greeting] As pleasant a town as Ponyville is, most of its inhabitants leave a lot to be desired in regards to high society. It's obvious that everything Rarity does and says exudes pure sophistication. You feel overjoyed to find another like-minded socialite not unlike yourself in this cultural wasteland, somepony to revel with in the latest news, fashions, and trends of the haute monde. Still, you make sure to rein in your excitement, lest you overstep some esoteric piece of etiquette.
You give Rarity as deep a (bow/curtsy) as you can manage, introducing yourself whilst also complimenting your host and her home. Rarity's ears perk up at cultured manner with which you conduct yourself, fresh interest glimmering in her eyes.
"My word, I had no idea I was in such refined company; what a pleasant surprise indeed. To be perfectly frank with you, when I heard we had a new arrival here in Ponyville, I let my imagination run a tad wild. I'm sure you've already noticed, but Ponyville isn't exactly a jet set destination. Please don't misunderstand, I love Ponyville with all my heart, but I might've had few preconceived notions in respects to who you were and what you were like; not all of them flattering I'm afraid. Thankfully, everything I've seen so far is such evidence to the contrary. Oh, do beg pardon, you must think me a terribly shallow pony."
[Brusque greeting] You don't know what you were expecting when you walked in here, but it certainly wasn't... her. One look at this dame is all you need to figure she's trouble. Even now, you can see her hungry, roving eyes running across your body not unlike how a hustler might size up a potential mark. If your surroundings are any indication of Rarity's character, then she must be one vain pony indeed. Every word that comes out of her mouth might as well be an unspoken cry for self-validation. How much time must she spend in front of a mirror, you wonder, constructing that ridiculously self-indulgent mane and tail of hers?
"Hmm, something the matter dear? You seem a tad lost in thought." No, you answer curtly. You quickly think up a reason to excuse yourself from present company. Unfortunately, it seems Rarity is intent on prying at least some bit of information out of you.
"Is that so? But we've yet to get properly introduced! Surely I can tempt you with a cup of coffee perhaps? Well, if really must go, then far be it from me to stop you. But before you leave, at the very least allow me the pleasure of knowing my visitor's name." You roll your eyes and begrudgingly give Rarity your name. Hopefully, a gossipy mare like herself won't be able to do too much damage with that much knowledge.
[Flirty greeting] You freeze up involuntarily, blood rushing to your face and... other parts of your body.
"Hmm? Are you alright dear? You look flushed." Rarity sidles up to you, swaying her hips to and fro in a pendulum motion more mesmerizing than any pocket-watch. A sensual undercurrent punctuates every move she makes, from the flutter of her lengthy lashes to the subtle flick of her lovely tail.
You're good. Fine. Great even; at least that's what you try and tell her. You look away and chuckle nervelessly in an effort to act natural. Judging by the way Rarity is smiling at you, you're not succeeding. She circles you like a hungry predator cutting off any avenue of escape, the tip of her tail just barely grazing the top of your muzzle as she passes by (absolutely inadvertently you're sure). This close, you're completely helpless as a plethora of exotic perfumes invade and overwhelm your olfactory senses, sending your head spinning with salacious desire.
"Ah hem, I believe you were about to tell me your name?" Rarity's words pierce the intoxicating haze of hedonistic thoughts surrounding your mind like a chill wind on a hot summer's day. Is it your imagination or has her speech adopted an even more sultry, more lurid tone? You stutter for a moment, but eventually manage introduce yourself amidst a chorus of "umm's" and "uh's."
"[name], is it? Charmed! Excuse me for being presumptuous, but I get the feeling we shall be doing business sooner rather than later. Oh, I just know we'll get along swimmingly. Give me a moment to dig up my card, I'm sure the bashful little things are around here somewhere." Rarity turns and ambles over to a nearby desk, giving you ample opportunity to admire her well-toned derrière, covered in that pristine white fur. You can even catch brief, precious glimpses of her jet-black marehood as her tail swings to and fro.
"A-ha! There we are." She returns to you with said business card enveloped in vivid blue magic, the same hue currently emanating from her glowing horn. After giving her the okay, she gingerly lifts the top of your bag and deposits the card within.
####
"I appreciate you taking the time to come by and meet me. One-on-one introductions are always so much more... intimate. But while I would love to stay and chitchat, I'm afraid I really must get back to my work; dresses certainly don't tailor themselves! And thank goodness for that, I imagine I'd feel quite redundant if that were the case. Do feel free to stop by anytime though, you'll find my doors are always open. And one last thing: Try not to worry too much about the gossiping now, most ponies can't help themselves and it's all in good fun. After all, I did say you were cuter in-person. Tata for now darling!"
Twilight1 (unfinished)
No matter where you are in town, the Castle of Friendship is ever present. It rises above and breaks Ponyville's otherwise uniform skyline, as out-of-place an addition to the quaint, rustic surroundings as an elephant in a herd of zebra. Despite its gaudiness, it does contribute a certain mystique to the valley, its crystalline surface sending rainbows dancing across the many pastures and orchards that dot the landscape when the sun hits the castle just right. Regardless of your personal feelings, you make your way to the personal abode of the Princess of Friendship and ready yourself for an encounter with royalty.
You step through the gilded entrance and find yourself in a richly decorated hallway. Countless golden double-doors line the walls on either side of you, interrupted by the occasional sconce or vase. A solitary sign stands in the middle of corridor, obviously intended to block further passage into the interior proper. The wooden sign bears a crudely painted arrow pointing left towards an otherwise innocuous pair of doors, from which you can faintly hear a muffled chorus of angry voices just beyond.
[Obey the sign]
[Walk past the sign]
####
[Obey the sign] You heed the sign's message, walking up to the indicated doorway. Upon approach, the shouting becomes slightly louder, slightly more boisterous. You open the doors and find yourself at the tail end of a vast horde of ponies, all of which are heatedly hurling a variety of colorful complaints at a granite reception desk manned by a single secretary, a purple unicorn. There is no line to speak of, nor any semblance of order for that matter. The noise is deafening. Every pony in this sizable room is shouting at the top of their lungs, each trying to be heard over the ear-splitting din of the crowd, though in actuality only contributing to it. You butt your way through, ignoring the occasional sharp look and indignant cry, until you reach the desk.
Upon closer inspection, the purple mare behind the desk is clearly not the Princess, as evidenced by her lack of Alicorn wings. She has obviously been at this for quite a while, her violet fur matted and sweat-stained. A single aquamarine steak runs though her disheveled indigo mane and tail. On her flank is an eight-pointed star with two turquoise ribbons spiraling upward. She is trying her best to juggle several tasks at once, talking to whomever is currently yelling at her the loudest while also frantically sorting and filing away tall stacks of paper with magic. After a good while, she finally manages to somewhat placate the pegasus that had been monopolizing her attention, leaving her free to talk to you.
"If you're here to make a complaint, you're gonna have to take a number," she states flatly. "Don't know if you noticed, but there's a pony or two still in front of you," the secretary gestures to the crowd screaming bloody murder at the back of your head, "Sorry, but it's first come first serve."
Testy today, isn't she? A sentiment that you’re sure to let her know.
"Yeah, standing in one spot long enough to turn your knees into jelly and getting shouted at until you can't hear yourself think straight might do that to you. Now, is there anything you actually need from me or are you just gonna stand there and block my desk? Because the last thing I need right now is a peanut gallery."
You admit that you were hoping to see the Princess when you walked in here.
"Princess Twilight? Yeah, you and everypony else here." The mare puts her hooves up in mock surrender. "Sorry to disappoint, but you're stuck with me," she says low enough that only you can hear, her tone dripping with hollow sincerity and just a hint of misery.
At this point, an irate stallion deigns this an appropriate enough time to roughly shove you aside, proceeding to get up close and personal with the secretary pony. She merely stands stock still with a tired, bored expression on her face, even as the stallion spits saliva and vitriol at it.
With the end of his fiery tirade, the secretary calmly says, "For the last time Meadowlark, we cannot ban bears. We know a bear took your picnic basket and we're all very sorry about that. From what I hear, Fluttershy already gave the fella a very stern talking to."
Seemingly satisfied with this news, the stallion retreats back into the amorphous mass of the crowd. As soon as the spot in front of the secretary's desk is vacant, three more ponies step forth to take his place, each shouting their own assortment of issues and disputes. You can actually see the secretary's eyes glaze over from exhaustion. She is obviously on the brink of collapse. Just before she can almost fall off her chair, a sudden burst of energy visibly invigorates her slumped limbs.
She quickly turns to you and says, "Hey, I got an idea that could help us both out. I'm having tea with Princess Twilight later and I was supposed to bring along a new friend. I'll bring you along as my date, if you do me a favor. Deal?"
[Deal]
[No Deal]
~~~~
[Deal] "Aces. My name's Starlight Glimmer by the way. Now, how good of an organizer are you?" Before you can even open your mouth to reply, the agitated purple pony cuts you off, "The answer is not a very good one, at least by her standards. Hey, don't give me that look! I'm no good either apparently. The only guy that's up to Twilight's snuff is a dragon that's basically spent his entire life in a library. Poor guy must've had a quill and parchment shoved into his claws the moment he hatched. Anywho, come on over to my side of the desk."
You follow Starlight's directions, stepping around and over to her. She motions for you to stand behind an adjacent desk that she had dedicated to magically filing away an enormous tower of important looking documents. Atop the desk are three semi-full trays, marked 'Civil,' 'State,' and 'Personal' respectively.
"This is the bulk of the mail that gets sent to Twilight. All you have to do is put the papers into the matching tray. Easy right? It darn well should be; I actually need to sort them down even further, but you doing this gets me a lot of the way there. I can leave that for later, but for now just concentrate on getting through this stack while I deal with my appointments. Alright, that should be it. Good luck and call me over if you have any questions. Try not to have any questions."
Documents to be sorted: (explain reasoning behind tray placement, seals on letters that must be broken to read further?)
1. Proposition to install one-hundred and forty-five helium canisters throughout Ponyville in case of emergency balloon inflating.
2. (806) Love letters from admirers, fans and suitors from every corner of Equestria.
3. (27) Marriage proposals from various princes and a few princesses of neighboring nations.
4. (5) Declarations of war from the Diamond Dog Clans.
5. (4) Appeals for armistice from the Diamond Dog Clans.
6. Expiration notice from "The Prancing Pen" magazine.
7. Voucher for a three-night stay at the Grand Palomino Resort and Casino in Las Pegasus, royal suite package.
8. Letter from Shining Armor, Prince-regent of the Crystal Empire, Captain of the Royal Guard, Twily’s B.B.B.F.F.; advisory warning against potential changeling spies.
Unfortunately, it seems all the interesting documents had decided to congregate atop the pile and you're soon left to sift through a mountain of mind-numbingly tedious, legal jargon dense paperwork. You slump your shoulders and sigh, before settling in for a long workday. You already regret not asking Starlight for a chair or something.
It doesn't take long for the monotony of it all to set in and start gnawing at your brain. You quickly get bored and fall into a mindless rhythm: take a letter from the stack; barely inspect its contents; file it away into the appropriate pile; repeat ad nauseam. Even the clamor of the crowd eventually fades into white noise, becoming as dull and listless as the buzzing of an enormous bee in your ear.
Even with your brain turned off, time feels like it slows to a crawl as you dutifully perform your appointed task. You make to reach for another letter, only for your hoof to tap against the top of the desk's crystalline surface. You blink your eyes to break out of your self-induced trance and look around. The crowd is gone, leaving the spacious chamber deafeningly quiet. Slightly orange-hued light streams through the tall windows high above.
Starlight Glimmer shuffles over to you and says, "Hey hey, good job! Looks like we survived. And not a moment too soon, I must've locked my knees at some point cause I can barely- WHOA!"
She falls forward and collapses to the floor, her entire body spread eagle before you. She looks like she's just about ready to fall sleep right then and there.
"Yeah, there's no way I can make it through a tea party. If it wasn't obvious, I don't normally do this sort of thing, secretary type stuff I mean. Inkwell, the usual clerkpony, is sick and I thought it would be easy enough to fill in for her. Talk to a few ponies, a little paperwork, couldn't be that hard right? I didn't give her enough credit; I can see that now. Thanks to you, today wasn't a total disaster."
Starlight sluggishly lifts herself off the ground, "I could really use some rest right about now. But a deal's a deal, so if you still want to have tea with the Princess, it's alright for you to go alone. She’ll understand. She always does. Just go back out the door you came from, pass the sign, walk down the hall, hang left at the intersection, up two flights of stairs, and open the first door directly on your right. That'll be the tea room. Pass on my regards and apologies, will you? Now if you don't mind, I'm going to sleep the rest of the year away."
[No deal]
~~~~
[Walk past the sign] There is no sign in Equestria with enough authority to command a (pony/changeling) such as yourself, especially one so crudely constructed, with its irregular planks and rusted nails. Why, this sorry piece of lumber hardly even looks befitting of its spectacularly ornate surroundings. You nimbly sidestep the sign, giving the tiresome thing a not-so-gentle slap of your tail as you pass by. Just before you can start down the rest of the corridor, something exceedingly hard and flat smacks your backside with enough force to leave your rump throbbing red. You let out a pained yelp, the sudden, unexpected spanking sending you jumping. You swing around, expecting to find some mischievous pony, only to see an empty hallway. What's more, the wooden sign has disappeared! Before you can even scratch your head or rub your bruised flank, you swivel around one last time to find the wooden sign blocking your path forward, this time with an angry face painted on its surface. A magical aura the color of ripe raspberries engulfs your animate obstacle. It seems this sign had been imbued with life through some mystical enchantment! You determine that battling the sign is the only way to progress further into the castle.
You are battling a (lvl. 2) enchanted wooden sign!
You have defeated a (lvl. 2) enchanted wooden sign!
The sign is battered and bruised, which is quite odd because it is a sign. It visibly trembles, as if struggling with all its remaining might to stay upright. A wide scowl stretches across its drawn visage, actual tears of black paint welling up in its eyes, before trickling down and staining the scarlet carpet below. You take a step forward. The sign manages to summon one final burst of energy, turning tail and hopping down the corridor on its post with surprising speed. Before you can even react, the sign is out of view, leaving tiny dust clouds and a trail of black tears in its wake.
You stride forward in triumphant victory over a piece of wood. Truly you are not a (pony/changeling) to be trifled with. Still, you make sure to keep your wits about you. From this point on, you are undeniably trespassing within the domain of a royal Princess. Who knows what malignant dangers could lurk inside the Castle of Friendship? Who knows what manner of traps and countermeasures the fabled Tree of Harmony itself has devised to keep out unwanted interlopers? You press on undaunted.
After not a very long time at all, you can confidently say that you are hopelessly lost. The castle's corridors weave and wind in an antipattern not unlike the gnarled roots of an ancient tree. The walls blend into each other to produce bizarre kaleidoscope-like illusions that only intensify the sense of disorientation currently gripping at you. Every door opened leads only to empty storage closets and otherwise unfurnished chambers. Interestingly enough, there are no servants or guards to speak of.
Eventually, you manage to break your monotonous meandering by stumbling upon a series of inky marks on the floor, the black teardrops left behind by your old foe as it fled. With no other recourse, you decide to follow them; you figure they'll lead you back to the castle's entrance or the sign's master. Either way, you don't really see any better way of getting out of here.
####
Even with the aid of directions, making your way through the
Applejack1 (unfinished)
You lie beneath the shade of a particularly old and imposing apple tree that stands atop a tall hill on the outskirts of Ponyville. The hill itself overlooks a portion of the river that cuts through town, lending the soothing sound of softly rushing water to the surrounding soundscape. The view is nothing short of breath-taking. Cottony clouds hang high in the bright blue sky, swept along gently by the slightest of breezes that caresses the cheek and tempers the midday heat.
The town below is abuzz with activity as per usual, but the real spectacle is the vast swathes of farmland and orchardery overflowing with all manner of vibrant produce. One field for instance is covered with countless carrot tops peeking out from the ground, as if an enormous parade of green-haired, orange soldiers were frozen mid-march. Another hill plays host to row upon row of grapevines laden with the plump, purple orbs. And of course, the trees around you bristle with apples; some red, some green, each and every one as perfect as can be. Everywhere you look, you can see the fruits of a bountiful Ponyville harvest paint the land in the warm shades of summer.
Yes, this was definitely worth the walk out here. Your body certainly seems to agree, as your eyelashes grow heavy and every other thought is interjected by brief lapses in consciousness. Just as you are about to nod off, a mare's voice rings through your ears.
"Howdy stranger, enough room on this hill for two?"
You snap awake and turn your head to see an orange mare hiking up the hill towards you. She stops just short of surmounting the summit, keeping a healthy distance between the two of you. A wide-brimmed cowboy hat sits atop her head, a fitting accessory for somepony with such a distinct country accent.
"Aw shucks, I didn't know you were fixin' to take a nap. Sorry 'bout that. Anywho, mind if I join ya' and ol' Bark Woodberg here?" She motions affectionately to the enormous apple tree overhead.
[I don't mind]
[I do mind]
####
[I don't mind] "That's mighty neighborly of ya'. Thank ya' kindly."
[I do mind] "Well that's too bad, seeing as how my family owns this here apple orchard. As a matter-a-fact, I’ve half a mind to kick you outta here for trespassin’. Lucky for you I happen to be in such a forgivin’ mood."
####
The mare trots over to join you underneath the tree. She opts to remain standing however, allowing you the opportunity to examine her body in its entirety.
Though she is built more heavily than most mares you've met, subtle feminine curves still grace her well-toned legs and muscled flanks. Indistinct grime covers parts of her coat, evidence of a heavy work load only just recently completed. Between the splotches of dirt and dust is some of the most lustrous orange fur you've ever laid eyes upon; fur that actually seems to glow like polished amber in the light of day. Bits of leaves and twigs are strewn throughout her flowing, blonde locks. Plant matter doesn't look too out of place in there all things considered; her mane and tail are incredibly reminiscent of soft hay or perhaps bushels of golden wheat. Two red ribbons tie together her mane and tail to form practical ponytails, further contributing to the bushel of wheat imagery. Her rustic charm combined with that weathered cowboy hat lends an unconventional, but undeniable beauty to the mare.
Your roving eyes finally reach her face, at which point you notice that she had been spying at you from out of the corner of her own emerald-green eye. Even from your prone position, you can see a her mouth curl into a sly grin. You hurriedly avert your gaze and stare off into the distance.
"Like what ya' see?" The country pony teases as she chuckles heartily, "Not that I blame ya'. You ain't too rough on the eyes yourself, stranger. Can't say I've seen you 'round these parts afore. New in town I take it?"
[Yea]
"Thought as much. You must be the feller everypony's been getting riled up about. Always nice to see a new face in Ponyville; the more the merrier I always say. Name's Applejack by the by, but you can call me A.J. if that's more to your likin'. Doesn't make a lick of difference to me, but heck I guess it saves folks a second or two. So, what's your name and what brings you here, if ya' don't mind me nosin'?"
[Cheerful greeting]
[Proper greeting]
[Brusque greeting]
[Flirty greeting]
####
[Cheerful greeting] You practically leap up off the ground in your excitement and dance a merry little jig around the
[Proper greeting] Though the pony before you is clearly not of genteel upbringing, you reason that she is no less deserving of a good and proper greeting. You even feel the nascent desire to give her a taste of just how refined you can really be, starting off with an introduction worthy of a meeting with an elite Manehattanite.
You get up carefully to ensure no dirt or grass clings to your coat, before turning to face Applejack, who is watching with bemused interest at this point, and giving the farmpony your full name and all accompanying titles, followed by a brief history of your family lineage, a dashing (bow/curtsy), and the fact that the pleasure is indeed yours.
"That so?" Applejack proceeds to surprise you by straightening herself and effortlessly adopting a classic upper-Manehattan accent. "Well (Monsieur/Madame) [name], consider me right charmed to make your acquaintance, and may I say that I am positively de-lighted to meet another well-to-do gentlefellow in these troubled times. Believe me when I say the dearth of good breeding that does surround us is nothing short of appalling. Fillies and colts cavorting about unsupervised, mares doing stallions’ work; why, it’s as if society as we know it is simply collapsing all around us. But I digress. Look at me, hemming and hawwing like I’ve got a case of the vapours.
[Brusque greeting] What were you thinking, hoping to get some peace and quiet after hiking all the way out here? Celestia forbid you have even a little 'you' time to be alone with your thoughts. Of course that wasn't going to happen. Fate itself probably ordained for some local yokel to show up out of nowhere like an untimely rash and practically parade herself around like she owned the place. If you wanted inane small talk, you would've stayed in town and let the inn keeper bore your socks off.
You tip your chin and snort none too subtly, before rolling over so you can start ignoring Applejack properly. Unfortunately, the country bumpkin must be dense in addition to being filthy, seeing as she refuses to take the hint to make like a tree and fuck off.
"Now I've lived here my entire life, so I can't even begin to imagine what movin' to a new town ought feel like. Being as that may, it's a pretty common courtesy to give a name when another pony asks for it. Unless you're from the Dragon Lands, I'm pretty darn sure folks still said 'hi' to each other back where you came from. Maybe we got off on the wrong hoof. If'in I offended ya' any way
[Flirty greeting]
####
Applejack2 (not started)
Fluttershy1 (unfinished)
After spending a better part of the day absentmindedly strolling about town, you eventually find yourself in Ponyville's town park. The weather today feels especially cold and crisp, a welcome respite in these sizzling summer months. Save for yourself, the park looks to be absolutely deserted; everypony no doubt at home breaking out their wool blankets and hot cocoa stashes.
You pause for a moment to relax and take it all in, resting your rump on a conveniently placed park bench. On a whim, you idly glance at the park's entrance and just barely manage to catch a glimpse of a small brown shape entering the park and coming down the path towards you. You are utterly baffled as to what it could be at first, but as it nears, the shape gradually takes on the form of a tiny white rabbit dressed in equally tiny brown overcoat with matching felt fedora. The rabbit calmly ambles up to you, utterly indifferent to your staring. As it's about to pass by, the rabbit stops, turns its head to face you, and brings a paw to its mouth in a shushing motion. Without skipping a beat, it walks off without even waiting for a response, eventually strolling off the path and disappearing into a thicket of shrubbery further down the trail.
Odd, to say the least. You think to yourself that this surely won't lead to another kooky encounter with an offbeat townspony, even as you spot a yellow pegasus mare following in the white rabbit's footsteps. She looks as though she is trying her best to remain out of sight, cautiously hopping from bush to bush, though only really managing to succeed in tangling up her lengthy pink mane. The only part of her that doesn't look completely out of place—as she peeks out from behind the narrow trunk of a tree—are the three pink and teal butterflies that comprise her cutiemark.
After a good while, the unfortunate bush directly adjacent to you finds itself occupied by the odd pony. Out of the corner of your eye, you can spot a yellow muzzle poking out from the leaves like some bizarrely-shaped, furry fruit.
"Pssst. Psssssst. Hey," she whispers with a hushed, but urgent tone to try and get your attention, utterly ignorant to the fact that you're already acutely aware of her presence.
"Don't be startled, I'm not a monster about to jump out and devour your tender pony flesh. I'm just a pony in the bush right next to you," She pushes some branches aside to reveal the rest of her face. The resulting image is absurd to the point of being comical. She opens her mouth to continue, before a blank look dawns upon her face and catches the words in her throat before she can even start.
She darts her eyes about and scrunches up her face before saying, "This is really odd, isn't it? Me, talking to you from inside a bush I mean." You nod in deadpanned affirmation.
"Oh, right." Despite the dirt and leaves that stubbornly cling to her face, you can still see her cheeks burning rosy red. The mare quickly steps out of the bush and onto the park path. She beats her dainty wings and floats low against the ground, gently bobbing up and down like a cork on rolling waves.
"I'm sorry to bother you, but did you happen to see my little Angel bunny walk past here by any chance? He's been running off lately and he sometimes doesn't even come home until sundown. He has me so worried, so I'm following to find out where he goes. Or at least trying to, I just always seem to lose track of him here in the park."
[Yes]
[No]
####
[Yes] No rest for the (weary/wicked) you suppose. You unceremoniously get off your comfy perch, followed by a lazy yawn and a quick stretch. With that, you start down the path towards the dense patch of underbrush the wayward rabbit had disappeared into.
"Umm, is that a yes?" the meek pegasus calls out from behind. You glance back to see her still floating idly by the bench. Right. You gesture towards the end of the path, beckoning for her to follow. Her face lights up at the realization that you're willing to help. She speedily—or at least the equivalent of a brisk trot—glides on over to you. With your companion firmly in tow, you continue down the path, the thicket now no more than a moment's walk away.
Before long, the dull *thud* of hooves hitting hard dirt is replaced by the harsh *crunch* of dry leaves being crushed underhoof. The woods here are wild and unfettered, the dense forest growing denser still as you trek deeper into the country. The canopy becomes so thick in fact that your aerial acquaintance is eventually forced to land and tread earth alongside you. Just as doubt of actually finding this elusive white rabbit starts to creep into your mind, the pair of you finally come across a clearing, at the center of which lies a tall grassy knoll.
"Oh, thank goodness, I was starting to think we were walking in circles. I put up a tough front, but I was actually starting to get a teensy tiny bit nervous," you're companion admits, forcing a chuckle through clenched teeth even while her knees shake and wobble like some new-age dance.
At the base of the mound is a rabbit-sized hole, which she quickly deduces, "That's an entrance to a bunny burrow! And look there! Itty bitty paw prints leading inside! It was hard to tell because of all the leaves earlier, but there are tiny footprints all around here. A lot of prints as a matter of fact for just one Angel bunny..."
You bend down to examine the tight entrance and jokingly ask if the pegasus mare had brought along a shrinking spell, or if she intends to dig up the barn-sized hill with nothing but her bare hooves. She doesn't answer, the impatient mare already well on her way round the other side of the knoll. She disappears around the bend without a word. You snort in irritation, before following suit.
You stroll along the circumference of the knoll before catching up to her. You see her silently staring through a crude window built into the side of the hill. Whatever's inside must be quite the sight, judging by the way her ears are pricked up and her mouth is slightly agape. As if hypnotized into a trance, she doesn't acknowledge your approach at all.
You mosey up beside her to take a gander for yourself. The window is quite small, so you end up rubbing against the mesmerized mare just to get a view. Her velvety fur feels pleasantly smooth against your body, long locks of her silken hair occasionally brushing across the side of your face. Even so, the pegasus remains still and speechless. As you survey the room inside, you can see why.
Inside the subterranean chamber is what can only be described as an all-you-can-fuck buffet for rodents. Strewn about the room are countless lagomorphs, most mostly motionless and soaked to varying degrees in sticky white fluid. They lie atop dressers, bent over tables, even atop one another in enormous wet piles of black, white, and gray fur.
You spy a bed at the far end of the cavern, upon which a harem of hares are still busily attending to a single white bunny. For some reason or another, you're sure this is 'the Angel' bunny. You turn to look at your companion. She watches with wide-eyes as her pet grabs a rabbit by the floppy ears and pull her against his hips, even while he is Prench kissing a different hare and getting his fluffy white butt tongue-punched by a third (all to the accompanying sound of *SQUEAK* *SQUEAK* *SQUEAK*).
You take a step back, having gotten your fill of rabbits fucking like rabbits for the day. Your companion on the other hoof maintains her trance-like gaze.
You give her a gentle poke in the ribs to delicately grab her attention, at which point she jumps and yelps, "Eeeeeeep!" The pegasus floats in the air after your prodding, her eyes staring off into nothingness and forehooves held firmly against her cheeks.
A moment of awkward silence passes before she blurts out, "Oh my look at the time I really should get going I need to get dinner started and I can hear the kettle boiling and it's getting dark." She turns to fly off in the direction you both came from.
Just as the flustered mare is about to fly out of earshot, she stops in midair, turns to face you, and quietly says, "I'm Fluttershy. It was nice to meet you." With that, she leaves you alone in the clearing.
On a whim, you peer back in the window to find Angel bunny up against the other side, giving you the cutest little death-glare you ever did see. He heatedly shuts the curtains, putting an end to any further unintended voyeurism.
Well, this was certainly one way to spend an afternoon. Now if you can just remember how to get back to town. You do remember, right?
[No]
####
Fluttershy2 (actual meeting/not started)
Fluttershy3 (credit goes to /mlp/ Writer's Guild)
You decide to pay Fluttershy a visit, maybe stay a while for a spot of tea. Oh, the wonders that pony can concoct with some leaves and hot water. You can hardly say you were much of a tea-drinker before you came to Ponyville, but you'll be darned if she hadn't made you a convert. (If there ever were such a thing as a love potion, you wouldn't be surprised if the recipe was just an ingredient or two off from her pine needle tea./Incidentally, you do know a recipe for a fairly potent love potion and while Flutterhy's tea is missing a few key ingredients, it's still pretty darn close.)
You find yourself standing before the front door of Fluttershy's cottage before you know it, a brief walk made even briefer by a mind looking forward to some good company and pleasant conversation. With a raise of your hoof, a gentle knock on the door announces your arrival. Fluttershy is quick to answer, surprisingly quick in fact, almost as if she had been waiting behind the door. She cracks the door open just enough to get a look at you.
"Oh, hello [name], nice to see you today. You came by at just the right time, I have the kettle brewing and tea should be ready in a moment, sorry to make you wait a little bit. And before you ask, umm, no, you can't come in. I'm sorry, that's not true. You can come in, but I would really, really, really appreciate it if you didn't. At least not through this door. You're more than welcome to (climb/fly) in through the window though, if it's not too much trouble."
You let out an exasperated sigh, asking why exactly you can't use the door right in front of you.
After a brief silence, she says simply, "Umm, look down." You roll your eyes, but glance down at the ground nonetheless. Directly in front of Fluttershy's front door lies a newly sprouted sapling, a pitiful little plant with hardly two leaves to its name. Opening the door would almost assuredly rip it from the ground.
"You see it, don't you? I was coming home last night and I just barely noticed it in time; I almost trampled all over the poor thing! It must be so hard for little seedlings to grow in a world already full of great, big trees. I just couldn't open the door and risk hurting it. So, I might've, umm, spent last night in the chicken coop until Angel could unlock a window for me this morning."
"It's not too much of a hassle I hope, coming in through window, is it? I mean, it isn't that high off the ground. Oh, by the way, would you mind doing me a favor? Please send Applejack my way if you happen to see her today. I'd like to ask if she could help me build a new set of stairs..."
Fluttershy continues rambling on regarding renovating her cottage, evidently ignorant to the fact that you've long since walked away. You make it back to town after only a moment or two. It takes you even less time to reach Roseluck's house. As per usual, you find Roseluck just outside her home, tending to her garden. After explaining the situation, she gladly offers to help out however she can. You thank her, pick up what you need, and hurry back to Fluttershy's.
Fluttershy is still talking about drastically modifying her cottage when you return, even as you walk up to her door, plunge your hooves into the loose soil and dig the sapling up. With that done, you gingerly place it into Roseluck's flower pot.
You knock on the door, interrupting Fluttershy's running monologue.
"Hmm, did you have something to add?" Once again, she opens the door just a smidge, enough to give her a plain view of the potted sapling safely settled atop your raised hoof. All she can manage to say is, "Oh." She looks down at the floor sheepishly, before swinging the door wide open and stepping back to invite you in.
"So, how about some tea? The pot should be ready about now. Pinkie came by this morning and dropped off some fresh ladyfingers..."
Conversing over fresh tea, the two of you agree that the potted sapling makes for a lovely centerpiece.
Dual Scene1 (Rainbow and Pinkie)
Midday. You decide a lunch break is in order, so you leisurely make your way to one of Ponyville's premier eateries: Café Hay. Today seems like a particularly slow day; you're quickly seated in the outdoor patio and given a menu. After agonizing for a few moments over what to order, [the waiter/Savoir Fare] makes a confident recommendation he's absolutely sure you'll enjoy. Despite your hesitation, his guarantee of a satisfied belly (and more importantly: a new dish in the event you dislike his selection) eventually wins you over.
He leaves with your order and returns later with a fresh spring salad served in a fancy porcelain bowl. Despite not being a huge fan of salad, you can't deny the quality of the produce. The leafy greens are fresh and crisp, adding a satisfying crunch to every bite. Ridiculously sweet cherry tomatoes are generously sprinkled throughout. A drizzle of homemade dressing adds an appreciable tinge of savoriness to the entire dish. There even some ingredients you'd normally outright dislike, but the flavors they bring out by being eaten together are so pleasant that you can momentarily overlook your prejudices. It definitely seems like [the waiter/Savoir] knew what he was talking about.
Just as you are about to settle in and really dig into your meal, you see Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash hopping/floating briskly down the main road. Rainbow manages to spot you first. She stops and nudges Pinkie, whereupon they both wave at you. Before you can wave back, the two of them start bounding directly towards you like an ungodly pair of tornadoes. Even from this distance, you can hear them rabidly chanting your name in unison as they approach.
"[name]! [name]! [NAME]!" You hear louder and louder. Pinkie squeezes through the fence that marks the patio's boundaries, while Rainbow flies right over. "[name]!" Rainbow reaches you first, then Pinkie, at which point they both slam their hooves onto the table with enough force to send your bowl of salad flying straight up into the sky. "[name]!"
Luckily, the emptied bowl falls back into place, followed by the lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, and other miscellaneous ingredients shortly after in consecutive order. Your fork it seems is nowhere to be found however.
Despite all the racket, you manage to hear the Café's front door close. You spin around to seen [the waiter/Savoir Fare] turning the 'OPEN' sign over. He grabs a cloth and starts wiping the windows, an obvious attempt at trying to make himself look busy. Seems like you're on your own for the foreseeable future.
Rainbow speaks up first, "Hey [name]! Glad we caught you! You're not doing anything important right now, right? Awesome. Mind helping me and Pink settle a bet? Which do you think would win in a fight: a dragon-sized rabbit or a rabbit-sized dragon?"
Pinkie butts in, "Pttfffff, obviously the rabbit! Just think about it; a giant fluffy bunny that could stomp across entire continents and hop over planets! Giant floppy ears that could hear a pin drop as far away as the Crystal Empire. What could a dinky little dragon do?"
"We already went over this; the biggest thing your bunny could stomp is Trixie’s wagon. That's how big the mountain dragon was, give or take. Not that it matters; the bigger they are, the harder they fall. My dragon would fly circles around your rabbit. A little fire breathing here, some clawing and biting there, and your rabbit's down for the count!"
"Nuh uh!"
"Yeah huh!"
"Nuh uh!"
"Yeah huh!"
"[name]!"
"[name]!"
They both shout simultaneously, "What do you think?!"
[Dragon-sized rabbit]
[Rabbit-sized dragon]
####
[Dragon-sized rabbit] Rainbow tilts her head and grins at Pinkie with a single raised brow, "See, what'd I say? [name] knows [his/her] stuff."
Pinkie simply rolls her eyes and starts walking off, "Blah blah blah, both of you are nutty in the butty. Come on, let's go find Fluttershy. We should've gotten an expert's opinion in the very first place."
Rainbow catches up to the departing pink pony, "Fluttershy? Let's just skip to the end of the day and head over to Twilight's. See if we can find a way to convince her to shrink Spike to like the size of a bee and have him duke it out with Fluttershy's bunny."
"On the flip side, we could somehow make Angel huge and have him play-fight normal-sized Spike!"
"Yes. YES. THAT SOUNDS LIKE THE BEST THING WE COULD BE DOING RIGHT NOW. WHY AREN'T WE DOING THAT EXACT THING?!" They quickly disappear, leaving you alone at last to enjoy your meal. Well, when [the waitor/Savoir Fare] brings you another fork at least.
[Rabbit-sized dragon] Pinkie stifles a snicker while Rainbow fumes. The mildly annoyed pegasus says flippantly, "Jeeze, why don't you two get a room. Neither of you know what you're talking about."
"Aww let up Dashie, no need to get all grumpy. I can't help if great minds think alike," Pinkie says as she slides on over next to you and playfully elbows you in the ribs. She falls to the ground after looking down and realizing there's no chair to support her.
"Whatever. Let's go find Fluttershy. She knows a thing or two about animals. The first thing we should've done was get her input, expert opinion and all that jazz."
"Or or ooor! We could borrow Spike for a little itty bitty experiment. Find some way to shrink him down and have him wrestle Angel bunny. For research purposes of course. Twilight would totally buy that!"
"Better yet, why don't we get some kind of growth potion and make Angel huge! Keep Spike his regular size and see who'd do better in the ring."
Pinkie gasps, "I have never wanted anything as much at this exact moment. A GIANT ANGEL BUNNY THAT COULD CUDDLE ME?! That's like the third cutest thought I've ever had!" The odd duo quickly disappear to undoubtedly cause more mischief. At last, you can enjoy your salad in peace. Now if you can just get hold of another fork.
####
Dual Scene2 (Rarity and Pinkie)
The wafting aroma of freshly baked bread grows stronger as you near Sugar Cube Corner. You climb up the steps to the open door and enter the giant gingerbread house. [Pinkie Pie's pet alligator/Gummy the Alligator] sits atop the otherwise unattended front counter with his toothless maw wide open, as if daring you to stick a hoof in. Pinkie must've left the odd reptile to 'man' the shop while she went off to do who-knows-what. Before you can even begin to wonder where Ponyville's resident party pony could've went, the clatter of pans and faint singing in the back kitchen quickly solves that mystery. You take a look around and manage to spot Rarity sitting at a table on the far side of the room. It seems she's already seen you; she waves hello and beckons your approach.
You take her up on her invitation, walking across the parlor and taking the open seat next to her.
"Hello there [name], what a pleasant surprise to see you today. Here to see Pinkie Pie I presume? I'm afraid you might be in for a bit of a wait, seeing as how she's preparing some special mystery treat with which to tempt me once again. Ah, do beg pardon. I can see some explanation wouldn't be amiss. You see, I've recently put myself on a diet..."
Pinkie Pie's voice suddenly explodes from the kitchen, "We don't use the 'd-word' in this bakery!"
Rarity continues, "Right. I am on a..," she pauses to think for a moment, "...a 'strict nutritional regimen' and every day since Pinkie has been trying to goad me into breaking it with sweet after sweet. No ill will intended I'm sure. I suppose she feels guilty eating cakes and whatnot, while I make do with more healthy fare. Don't hold it against her; you know how she can get. And rest assured, I don't intend on cheating my 'regimen.' Beauty is pain after all."
Speaking of, the kinetic pink mare in question bursts forth from the kitchen door rear-first. Sitting atop Pinkie's back is a covered silver platter, its mysterious contents hidden from view. Pinkie swings about on her heels and nearly traipses on over to you and Rarity. She expertly arches her back and deposits the silver platter onto the table with all the ease and grace of a prima ballerina.
"Hiya [name]! I'm glad you're here. I'm gonna kill this diet so bad that they'll call you up as a witness at its murder trial."
Rarity chimes in, "You're not going to win your little challenge, sweetie. Little black dresses are en vogue and I've been meaning to slim down for a while now anyways. Believe me, I enjoy a delectable sweet or two as much as the next gal, but no pastry nor candy is worth committing fashion faux pas. And there is nothing beneath that lid capable of convincing me otherwise. So la-di-da~!"
Pinkie retorts, "Oh, is that so? Well guess what? I just changed my game plan! I don't know what I was thinking, bringing you all that junk food before. I should've known any old cake wasn't gonna be good enough for you. Well, this one's a doozy, so get ready to eat those words and this doozy! Feast your eyes! Also, your mouth!" Pinkie bites down on the lid's handle and lifts, revealing...
Rarity's eyes grow as wide as saucers, as if her very eyeballs were eagerly devouring the mere image of the unveiled delicacy. With equal measure awe and disbelief, she stammers out, "It can't be. My eyes deceive me. Is that a Courtesan au Chocolat?"
Sitting on the silver plate is what can only be described as an ornately decorated tower o' pastry. The tower is constructed of three bonbon-shaped pastries of different sizes, with the largest one (glazed in lavender icing) serving as the base, the middling (glazed pale green) in the middle, and the smallest (glazed light pink) sitting daintily at the very top, itself topped with a single cocoa bean.
Rarity turns to you and says, "I was lucky enough to partake in this delectable delight the last time Pinkie and I were in Canterlot. I would've loved to bring a few back for the girls, but unfortunately, they're made in a single bakery by a single chef and they do not take well to travel. Oh, I can't tell you how many times I've thought about taking a day off and hopping aboard a train to Restaurant Row just to taste its chocolatey goodness again. Pinkie! How in Celestia's name did you acquire a Courtesan? It looks fresh out of the oven! Don't tell me..."
An uncharacteristically silent Pinkie Pie beams with self-indulgent pride. Given how much Rarity is gushing over the thing, simply getting her hooves on it must've been quite the accomplishment in of itself.
Rarity on the other hoof seems unable to stop talking, "You have the recipe!? B-but, not even the Café le Grand's sous-chefs are permitted to make Courtesans! How did you manage to convince Chef Gustave to give you the recipe to his culinary magnum opus? I can't even imagine what you could have given him in exchange. Money? A Pinkie Pie Planned Party? An endorsement from the Element of Laughter herself? Some other favor?" Rarity's voice trails off at that last word.
Pinkie finally answers, "Naw, I just asked him real nice like." Rarity cocks an eyebrow, looking understandably unconvinced. Pinkie adds, "That's the truth, I swear! What can I say; who can say 'no' to this face?" Pinkie Pie smiles a Pinkie Pie smile.
Yeah, you would give that smile a trade secret or two. Maybe paint that smile on a banner and carry it into battle. Overthrow the monarchy and establish an authoritarian government just to see that smile. Fuel the fires of war and spill blood in the name of that smi-
Rarity interrupts your train of thought with an odd sound, something of a cross between a squeal of delight and a cry of frustration. "Oh darling of mine, what a predicament you've put me in. Do I dare risk an ever expanding waistline to once again sample the choux ambrosia set before me? Or do I remain faithful to the tempestuous mistress that is haute couture? I'm so torn!"
"Come on Rarity, just a nibble. You know you want to," Pinkie says, nearly whispering into her ear at this point.
Rarity cries out, "[Name]! What do you think I should do?"
"Yes [Name], please help our dear friend, Rarity." Pinkie has a dangerous look in her eyes now, like staring straight down the edge of a knife.
Rarity might as well be drooling at this point, but knowing her, she'll no doubt regret this lapse in mental fortitude come Fashion Week. Pinkie is obviously hoping you'll be her final agent of dietary destruction.
[Stick to her diet]
[Let her eat cake]
####
[Stick to her diet] You know just how dangerous a slippery slope can be. A tiny cake today could easily turn into a gallon of rocky road ice cream tomorrow. One 'cheat day' becomes two, then four, then eight, and so on. Before long, a pony could balloon up to some unmanageable monstrosity, a veritable parade float in all but name.
Okay, that might not necessarily happen to Rarity, but you're not about to let her take the chance to find out. If you have Rarity's best interests at heart, this choice is no choice at all.
You shake you head and tell Rarity to say 'no' to the pink devil atop her shoulder. Pinkie stops leaning on Rarity's shoulder and shoots you a dirty look. Rarity shakes her head as if exiting a trance, having escaped her pastry-induced chocolate haze.
"You're right! I can't give in to every distraction or desire that crosses my path. For a lady, there is no greater virtue than restraint. A fine attempt Pinkie, your most formidable one yet, but I won't be breaking my diet today or any day soon."
Pinkie wilts dejectedly, "Aww, but my plan was so perfect!" She looks to be on the verge of tears, her poofy mane deflating as if filled with air and punctured by the pernicious porcupine that is fate. "And I made this 'specially for you! Who am I gonna eat this with now?!"
Before you can even consider nominating yourself, Pinkie opens her mouth and more-or-less deep-throats the entire pastry tower. She lifts her head, tilting side to side as she eats, as if chewing in tune with a musical rhythm, "Yum! Chocolatey!" Her cotton candy mane poofs back up again, fluffy as ever.
Rarity rolls her eyes in good spirit, "I will certainly need to have a Courtesan after Fashion Week though. Oooh! They would be marvelous for my book club meetings as well. And the anniversary of the opening of my Manehattan store is coming up! I will absolutely need Courtesans to be served there! Hmm, I wonder if Chef Gustave will allow..."
She might be a bit distracted at the moment, but you know Rarity will appreciate your support in the future.
[Let her eat cake] You shrug your shoulders and offhoofedly tell Rarity to go for it. Your rationale is simple, but pragmatic; what's the harm in eating one little pastry? After all, a diet can run for weeks or even months at a time. A treat every now and then would certainly help stave off the monotony of constantly eating healthily.
"Alright," Rarity says, "but only a bite and not a crumb more. And only if the two of you will have the rest; the smallest ball will do just fine for me, thank you. Pinkie, would you be a dear and fetch three plates?"
Pinkie groans and slams her chin onto the tabletop, "Awww, do I gotta? Washing dishes is super unfun! Why don't you just float them into our mouths?" She opens her mouth in such a manner that reminds you of a certain alligator on the front counter. You can't help but wonder if that's something Gummy taught his owner or vice versa.
Pinkie's suggestion seems to fluster Rarity for a moment, "Ah hem, are you asking that I pop it into your mouth like some flirty dinner date? Now Pinkie, seeing as how you're not a unicorn, you may not know this, but feeding another pony with magic is a decidedly intimate gesture.” She pauses to think for a moment, “We are all friends though, so I suppose I can, as long as it's alright with [name]."
[Sure]
"Alright, very well then. One last thing: I'd advise closing your eyes to best savor your first Courtesan." You close your eyes as told and open your mouth. Presumably, Pinkie and Rarity are doing the same. A medium-sized pastry ball is sat upon your tongue. For a brief moment, you can nearly 'taste' Rarity's magic; you get a feel for the essence of her being on a level that simple conversation could never reach. Like two souls merged in one, you share in all her goals, her hopes, her dreams. The fleeting sensation disappears as quickly as it arrives.
With nothing left to do, you close your mouth and bite down on the Courtesan. The crispy outer layer of pastry and sugary glaze gives way as an explosion of rich chocolate crème floods your mouth. The dark chocolate cream, nearly custard-like in consistency and fudge-like in taste, is without a doubt the most intense cocoa flavor you've ever tasted; sweet, but not overwhelmingly so, with just a welcome hint of bitterness. You can even taste trace amounts of Rarity's magic mixed in, so even as your eyes are closed, Rarity is first and foremost in your thoughts. You swirl it about in your mouth, enjoying the flavors almost change and deepen as it washes over the different parts of your tongue. You can hear Rarity and Pinkie thoroughly enjoying themselves as well. You swallow, almost reluctantly so. You actually find yourself swabbing your tongue against your teeth to find any remaining cream hidden away in the nooks and crannies.
You open your eyes and Rarity opens hers. You smile. She smiles back. You hope she won't hate you too much when this chocolate-covered euphoria ends and she finds her old dresses are still as tight around the waist as ever. At least Pinkie Pie seems happy.
####
Everfree1
For whatever reason, you decide that exploring the depths of the Everfree Forest is the most sensible course of action at this point and juncture. The Everfree, a vast stretch of untamed brush that encompasses much of the land directly south and southeast of Ponyville, is a source of much misfortune for nearby ponies. The denizens of this forest are infamous across all Equestria, with many a myriad of malignant monsters making their abode in this forest, from the oft underestimated parasprite to the voracious multi-headed hydra. While monsters, for the most part, tend to keep to themselves in the deeper parts of the woods, every once in a while some intrepid beast will venture out from the depths and stalk the outskirts of town, necessitating a response from the local authorities or even the Elements themselves. Subsequently, much of the Everfree remains uncharted and is said to be absolutely replete with hidden treasures ripe for the taking, should an enterprising pony be brave enough to go looking. With this in mind, you steel your nerves and venture forth into the unknown.
Everfree2
You cautiously make your way through the wildly overgrown woods, pausing every now and then to duck beneath the odd low-hanging branch or sidestep the occasional patch of swampland.
It’s slow, but safe, going. The terrain is still arduous however, and your body eventually find itself struggling to keep pace. Every step becomes an ordeal, every breath a flood of molten iron surging in and out of your lungs. You muffle your strained panting, lest you attract any undue attention.
You breathe a quiet sigh of relief when the trees start to thin out and a sunlit clearing opens up before you.
Everfree3
You cross-paths with a ferocious manticore.
Zecora1 (unfinished)
You open your eyes slowly, doing your best to ignore the ear-splitting headache currently pounding away at the back of your skull. The room is mercifully dark, the dying coals of a nearby fire-pit providing the only illumination in the dimly lit space.
You groan; even the act of looking around feels like somepony is driving railroad spikes directly into your eye sockets. You wince, but the pain eventually subsides from excruciating to merely agonizing. Judging by the bed you're lying atop of, you're at least no longer in any immediate danger.
You crane your neck to try and get a feel for your surroundings. It's easy enough to think you're in some sort of cave at first. You run a hoof over the dark wall next to your bed; it feels gnarled and irregular, yet somewhat smooth to the touch. A pattern of repeating concentric circles cover the floor, with the fire pit sitting in the epicenter. In regards to decor, potion bottles of every imaginable shape and hue sit on shelves that have been carved into the walls. A plethora of colorful and eerie-looking tribal masks are strewn throughout the space, like silent sentries keeping an eternal watch for intruders. It quickly becomes clear that the room is no cave, but rather a hollowed-out living space within the trunk of a massive, sprawling tree.
Your vision gradually adjusts to the lack of light, pitch black becoming muted shades of monochrome gray. Your heart skips a beat when you realize you’re not alone; a pony sits on the floor directly across from you in some kind of meditative pose, asleep apparently.
"Awake at last I see. Hopefully, you at least feel more rested than me," the shadowy figure says without provocation. Not dozing apparently, just exceedingly quiet. The figure slowly stands, allowing soft firelight to glide across what is obviously a mare’s curvy body. Unexpectedly, lengthy vertical streaks of her otherwise pale coat stay black as night.
"You have many questions, of that I am sure. First, who is this zebra of black and white fur?"
Her voice is deep and melodious, slightly accented with the exotic cadence of a foreign land far from Equestria. She doesn’t so much say the words coming out of her mouth as sing them. You wonder if her proclivity for rhymes is an acquired habit or a vestigial quirk of her native tongue.
"Zecora is my name and you—" her eyes narrow, "— have proven to be quite a pain."
[What?]
"You’re lucky that I make my home in these woods and whatever attacked had merely left you battered and bruised. You are safe for now, thanks to poor Zecora and her medicinal know-how." The agitated zebra points to a set of fresh bandages around your foreleg and some empty vials on an adjacent table, which you presume contained some sort of medicine.
"I know not why you entered this forest, unless you intend to find your eternal rest. Foolish ponies should know better than to tread where monsters roam and make their beds. And yet here I am, tending to another helpless lamb."
You try to sit up, but she presses a firm hoof against your chest and pushes you back down.
"I love my new home, but too often I am called upon to solve problems that are not my own."
"Rest now, for both our sakes. The sooner you leave, the less of my less supplies you take.
Celestia1 (unfinished)
A single candle illuminates your room, wavering and flickering with every stray breeze that drifts through the porous walls. You lay awake in your cot, caught in a fitful bout of unrest. Your mind races, every thought preoccupied by the sights you've seen and ponies you've met. You can't help but wonder what fate has in store for you. Where is your place in Ponyville? Will the townsponies ever come to accept you as one of their own? (Will you ever find true lo-/Will you fulfill your desti-)
Your musings are interrupted by a sudden rapping at your chamber door. The harsh sound takes a moment to register in your brain. You can confidently say that you were not expecting company, especially not at this hour. It couldn't hurt to answer, you suppose, aside from the tragedy of having to get up from beneath your toasty warm blanket.
The knocking becomes incessant; even if you choose to ignore it, there's no way you'll be able to fall asleep with all this racket. You resign yourself to a life of constant and unerring inconveniences, pushing away the woolen sheets and sluggishly rising from your stupor. The shock of your hooves touching the icy stone floor provides an almost welcome jolt of wakefulness as you shuffle towards the door.
Unfortunately, the door to your shed lacks a peephole and the few windows the shed did posses are far too small and high up to be of any practical use at the moment. You call out to your inconsiderate visitor, asking what they want. You don't know what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn't the meek, feminine voice that replied back.
"Help, please...?"
Questions swarm your mind like a cloud of angry hornets. Some strange pony coming to your doorstep in the dead of night? This supposed cry for help could just as easily be some sly ploy by some loathsome monster (with a disarmingly dainty voice). A sudden swell of alacrity surges into your veins at the prospect of unseen danger.
You follow up your earlier inquiry with another, this time demanding the identity of your mysterious visitor. Only the crickets respond. Further attempts to communicate prove equally fruitless, no matter how loudly you shout. You briefly consider returning to bed and stuffing cotton into your ears. After all, what are the chances there actually is a pony outside your door at this very moment in dire need of aid, potentially bleeding out from a mortal wound and only your timely door-opening could save them from shuffling off this mortal coil?
A weary sigh escapes your lips.
You open the door and find yourself looking down at a young unicorn mare dressed in tattered rags, with the not-so-occasional spot of dirt here, there, and everywhere. Vast patches of her amber coat have faded to a dull, homely brown. Knots and tangles plague her coal-black mane, not so much a rat's nest as a troll's. Curiously enough, she doesn't smell nearly as unkempt as she looks, lacking the sickly-sweet odor vagrants tend to pick up after who-knows-how-long of living on the streets.
She looks up at you furtively, as if afraid to make eye contact. After enduring your questioning stare for a good while, she finally manages to speak up, "I-I'm sorry to bother you this late. I saw light in the windows and figured you were still awake. I have nowhere to go and nopony to turn to and I've been walking since sunrise and... I'm sorry! I'm just so hungry!" Her strained voice, unexpectedly pleasant to the ear, cracks at that last word.
"Please (sir/miss), if you can spare some food, anything at all, I would be forever grateful." She looks up at you for the first time, giving you ample opportunity to look into her deep, magenta eyes.
[Help]
[Refuse]
[Rape]
[Rape with sleep potion]
####
[Help] You've yet to turn away a stranger in need and you're certainly not about to start now. So what if you're not exactly overflowing with wealth at the moment? You've a roof over your head and a larder full of plain, but hearty fare, which makes you good deal more fortunate than this mare. That should be more than enough reason to help. You can only imagine how you'd feel in her horseshoes; the feeling of hopelessness she must cope with everyday and night. Even now you can see fear on her grimacing face; fear of rejection, fear of another night unable to quell a hungry belly, fear that Equestria had become a much more unduly cruel and cynical place than it need be.
Without any further ado, you step aside and swing the door wide open, allowing a proverbial flood of soft candlelight to wash over your visitor. She stares at the interior of your shed with mouth agape and eyes growing wide as saucers, stunned by the unprecedented luxury before her. Despite your tacit invitation, her hooves remain firmly planted at your doorstep. Her legs visibly shake and quiver, uncertainty no doubt clinging to them like the thorny vines of plunderseeds. After her eyes finish darting over all your worldly possessions, her gaze finally comes to rest squarely on you. She takes a nervous gulp, before mouthing a tenative 'really?'
You nod and mouth an affirmative 'really' of your own, just to sweep away any and all traces of ambiguity. With surprising speed, the mare springs forward and wraps herself around you in a tender embrace. She buries her head against your bosom, muffling the already barely-comprehensible string of ‘thanks you's’ streaming from her lips. She quickly runs out of breath and resigns herself to hugging you ever tighter, as if you'd disappear should she let go. Silence falls over the room, interrupted by the occasional sniffle from your pony-shaped scarf.
Her heart beats directly against yours with a vivacious rhythm that sings with gratitude and rekindled hope. There is a certain tenderness in her touch that you find comforting, for reasons you cannot put words to. With her embrace comes a wave of warmth—not of the temperature type mind you—that washes over and puts you deeply at ease. You find yourself unwilling to tear yourself from her grasp, instead taking the moment to rest your cheek atop her head. A good amount of time passes before you straighten yourself and finally break the silence with a restrained cough.
She opens her tear-stained eyes and lets go, "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I shouldn't hav-"
You cut her off and say it's alright, even as you're already longing for her touch. You stifle the feeling, motioning for her to enter the shed proper. The door is still open after all, and cold night air makes for a poor house guest.
She finally steps into your humble abode, at which point you close the door and wave the mare over to your plain table. She sits there patiently as you assemble a late night dinner, digging deep into your pantry to assemble a veritable feast of plain brown bread and simple cheeses.
[Name?]
"My name? Oh, I'm not important enough to dwell on. Even if we did ever meet again after tonight, I’d doubt you'd even recognize me."
A tad odd, you think to yourself, but you reason that drifters are no less deserving of privacy than any other pony. You don't press her any further, a sentiment that the mare visibly appreciates. You ask her how she likes her milk.
"In a cup if possible."
You pause for a moment. Was that a joke? You turn around to look at your guest. Sure enough, a corner of her mouth curls into a tiny smile. You ask her how some bread would sound.
"I'm not quite sure, I guess I never cared enough to listen."
You ask if she'll be keeping this up all night.
"Only until I've worn out my welcome."
Dinner runs long into a night filled with mirth, laughter, and just a dash of lust. Soon enough, it gradually dawns upon you that not all is as it seems. No matter how many times you break a loaf of bread in half, you only ever break one loaf of bread. No matter how many times you refill your cups, the milk jug flows as if fed by Neighagra Falls (if it were a milkfall rather than a waterfall of course).
You briefly consider bringing up these curious miracles to your innocuous guest. She only looks into your eyes and giggles mischievously. No words are spoken, but the message is there: please, let's enjoy this just a little while longer. You smile and refill her cup.
The good times fly by and the mare is soon once again standing in your shack's open doorway, this time to depart. The two of you must’ve talked for quite a while; only the brightest stars still shine in the violet skies and a deep shade of blue saturates the outside world, signaling the oncoming sunrise.
You don't even get the chance to ask her to stay the rest of the night; her tone invites no entreating, no persuading.
"Please, I've already taken up too much of your kindness. You've done more for me than you could ever know. I can't thank you enough for the food, for the company, for everything. I only wish I could repay you. Oh, it wrenches my heart to leave you only with promises, but promises are all I have to give. So please, know this: you could have turned me away, shut the door and went back to sleep. And I would not have faulted for it you one bit. But you didn't. Thankful sweet Celestia you didn't. Instead, you opened your home to me, a stranger no less. That is no small gesture. I believe life favors those with kind hearts and gentle souls. Because of that, I promise that fortune will shine down upon you."
You rub the back of your head and bashfully downplay the weight of your actions. After all, you only did what anypony would've d-
The mare takes the opportunity to rush in and hug you one last time, squeezing you even tighter than before, if even such a thing were possible. She eventually lets go, but not before leaving a gentle kiss on the cheek.
"I really did enjoy our time together. Even though I said we wouldn't, I hope we meet do again under more auspicious circumstances. Goodbye and goodnight to you, friend."
She turns tail and leaves without another word, gradually disappearing into the gloom of twilight. You shut the door and get ready for brand new day.
[Refuse] You take a moment to size up the situation, weighing the potential risks of inviting a strange pony into your home, not to mention filling her audibly empty belly. It doesn't take long to reach a conclusion.
With your current state of affairs, you're not exactly in any position to help the less fortunate. Heck, most ponies would probably agree that you're hardly any better off than this mare right in front of you. Furthermore, you owe her no debt nor obligation; for anypony to think otherwise would be a ludicrous notion. You don't know where she'll sleep or what she'll eat, but it shan't be under your roof this night. You shake your head plaintively and deliver your ultimatum.
Upon hearing your verdict, the beggar pony merely lowers her gaze and stares at the ground dejectedly. Her reaction is far more mild than you had anticipated. There are no tears. In fact, she adopts an almost matter-of-factly attitude, the former waver and trepidation in her voice replaced now by a flat monotone. You suspect this isn't the first taste of rejection she has faced tonight or any night.
"I understand. I'm sorry to have bothered you," is all she says. With that, she turns around and starts walking off to who-knows-where, never once raising her head all the while.
With your midnight encounter at an end and your visitor disappearing into the starless night, there is nothing left to do but close the door and get what rest you can. Just before the door shuts completely, you think you can faintly hear the flutter of wings. You pause for a moment, but ultimately think little of it.
You return to bed and eventually fall into a dreamless slumber.
[Rape] You wordlessly usher your guest in, much to the mare's surprise.
[Rape with sleep potion] What better way to quell a restless mind than sweet, sweet release? You must be lucky indeed for a young mare to practically deliver herself unto you in the dead of night, as if the Princess herself had answered your prayers. You couldn't have asked for a finer gift, a desperate mare with no home to run to or loved ones to safeguard her.
You pause to muse over how best to get the unsuspecting pony into your bed. Charm perhaps; a few honeyed words and your silver tongue could be probing her depths. Money is another avenue. How many bits might it take for her to surrender her dignity? And of course, there is always good old fashioned brute force. You could be a few moments and a muffled scream away from forcing your cock down her throat. During this entire time, the hopeful mare patiently looks up at you with an expectant look on her face. Poor thing probably thinks you're still deciding on whether or not to give her a bit of food.
Just as you are about to pounce on her, a devious idea worms its way into your mind. If you remember correctly, you might be able to concoct a crude sedative from the herbs in your garden. Some crushed poppy leaves to induce drowsiness, one bright-blossom bulb as the catalyst, and just a drop of bloodrose ichor to ensure a lasting slumber. One sip and she'll be fast asleep, leaving you free to ravage her unconscious body. Oh yes, that will do nicely.
You put on a warm smile and cordially invite the mare into your home, stepping aside so she could enter through the doorway. Her face lights up upon hearing your
####
Celestia2 (not started)
"How did you know it was me?"
The Princess would never allow one of her subjects to suffer so.
Luna1 (not started)
Luna2 (playing chess/not started)
pawn-peon
bishop-pontiff
knight-crusader
rook-tower
king-prince
queen-princess
"Ah, the Hero's Dilemma! Do we rescue the dazzling damsel or deliver the village from impending doom? Tis a shameful choice for thee to force upon us. Thou art a cunning opponent indeed."
"So, thou thinketh to keep thy prince safe and secure behind walls of yonder citadel? A most prudent measure to be sure, considering the absolute ruination we art about to unleash."
"Thou art using Ponetti's Defense against us, eh? Fitting, giveth the position of the board. Naturally, thou must suspect us to attack with Capy Barra. But thou must knoweth that Thoroughbault cancels out Capy Barra! Tis true of course, unless thy opponent hath studied her Azteca; which we have!"
"Egads! Thy precariously positioned peon was naught but a devious ruse! So thou art willing to sacrifice peons in order to command the field? Such ferocity... remind us not to tread paths with thee on a foul day, lest we incur thy wrath."
“Peon to G24, a most unorthodox opening. We are eager to learn what new stratagems have been developed in our -ahem- absence.”
Gameplay/Mechanics
Main Attributes:
Brawn – Physical attribute. Governs success in matters of strength and physical ability.
Speed – Physical attribute. Determines agility and dexterity. Also aids in flying.
Smarts – Magic attribute. Measures mental prowess and aptitude for magic.
Charm – Social attribute. Affects one's ability to navigate social situations, as well personal appearance.
Win States:
A completely normal pony/Hermaphrodite – Find true love/Turn the majority of Ponyville into your personal harem (both win states can be achieved with either modifier).
Changeling spy – Dominate the mane six.
Celestia's failed student – Dominate Princess Celestia.
Former Shadowbolt – Return Nightmare Moon to power.
Modifiers:
Hermaphrodite – Starts off with the hermaphrodite trait.
Changeling spy – Forgoes the racial bonuses of ponykind in exchange for the ability to imitate the forms of others. Lays eggs with ovipositor if male/herm.
Celestia's failed student – Possesses great magical potential. Your perceived betrayal by the princess has left you unhinged and distant, making others more wary of you. (+Smarts/-Charm)
Former Shadowbolt – The Nightmare Queen's blessing bolsters your already considerable flying skill. Anger over her defeat has blinded your better judgment however, leaving you shortsighted and impulsive. (+Speed/-Smarts)
Naughty or Nice:
As a nonbinary morality system, the reader can be degrees of both naughty and nice. Acts of kindness and generosity increases nice stat, while vice and general wickedness increase naughtiness. Affects others' perception of the PC, as well as enabling or disabling certain morality related events.
Traits:
Hermaphrodite – Possess the genitalia of both sexes.
Master of Disguise – Changeling trait. Change your appearance at will.
Ovipositor – Changeling trait. Lay eggs when ejaculating.
Earthmover – Racial trait. Thanks to your earth pony heritage, you are blessed with great strength.
Stonebreaker – Racial trait. Requires 'Earthmover.' You posses the strength of ages, capable of shattering stone and crushing boulders with ease.
Terra's Bounty – Racial trait. Mother Earth never leaves her children wanting. Food and mineral wealth finds their way to you like a river seeking the sea.
Wings – Racial trait. Allows for flight.
Ace – Racial trait. Requires 'Wings.' Your flying skills are second to none. Whether through natural talent or years of practice, you are just as comfortable in the sky as you are on the ground, if not more so.
Cloudwalker – Racial trait. A cloud beneath your hoof shall be solid as were it the ground far below.
Rainmaker – Racial trait. Confers basic weather handling.
Stormbringer – Racial trait. The sky is your domain. Like a lord to his kingdom, all that dare to enter it are subject to your will.
Apprentice – Racial trait. Allows you to perform simple acts of magic, such as levitating small objects.
Adept – Racial trait. Requires 'Apprentice.'
Magus – Racial trait. Requires 'Adept.' Your skill and knowledge in the arcane arts rivals that of the greatest wizards of our time. "Let me put it this way: hast thou heard of Clover the Clever? Meadowbrook? Star Swirl the Bearded? Morons."
Sweet Talker –
Social Butterfly – Requires 'Sweet Talker.'
Spin Doctor – Requires 'Social Butterfly.'
Pony of All Trades – Oft called upon, but rarely praised, the pony of all trades is to be admired all the same.
Master of Nothing Less – Requires 'Pony of All Trades.'
Lunar Knight –
Champion of Sunlight –
Born Ruler – A king is beholden to no laws but his own.
Social Elite –
Green Hoof –
Egg Head –
Ruffian –
Party Animal –
Natural Athlete –
Friend of Animals –
Brew Master –
Guardian of Harmony –
Items:
Cavalry Lance – A hollow metal spike resembling a unicorn's horn. The sharpened point is capable of piercing armor with ease. Affixed to the head, potentially turning any charge into a lethal attack. Can be worn by unicorns, though notorious for inhibiting spell-casting when worn.
Special Moves:
Trample – Rear up on your hindlegs and bring your forehooves crashing down on your foe. A common attack used to ward off small, dangerous creatures, such as snakes and coyotes.
Hammer and Anvil –
Thunder and Lightning –
Spell Book:
Telekinesis –
Greater Telekinesis –
Fireball –
Magic Missile –
Force Field –
Gossamer Wings – Temporarily grants 'Wings.'
Cloud Walk – Temporarily grants 'Cloudwalker.'
Cloud Chariot – A spell first pioneered by an ancient order of monk-eys from the mystic East,
Teleport – Barring the Princesses, there can be as few as four or five unicorns in Equestria capable of casting this advanced spell at any given time. Fewer still are capable of doing so with any degree of accuracy.
Sway Mind –
Manipulate Time –
Gems:
Onyx – Black as the darkest dungeon.
Jade – Dull green like .
Topaz – Yellow like summer honey.
Emerald – Green like verdant meadows.
Sapphire – Blue like .
Ruby – Red like unspoken passion.
Amethyst – Violet like dusk's dying light.
Amber – Golden-brown like endless fields of wheat.
Garnet – Deep red like rosy cheeks.
Opal – Iridescent like unbridled creativity.
Turquoise – Pale blue like shallow seas.
Diamond – Translucent like morning dew.
Crystal Quartz –
Sunstone –
Moonstone –
Fire Ruby –
Blood Diamond –