Moon & Star: Interlude For Ten-Strings

Moon & Star: Interlude For Ten-Strings StrangeCreed 04/24/12(Tue)02:18 No.1497910

>you are now Moon, son of Bit and Smidget
>you've been put into a big damned pickup truck, and a fuzzy human is driving you off
>out of the window are vast fields of green
>your sister stares in awe of this with nose pressed against the glass
>the radio whines out some kind of attempt at fusing Kentucky Bluegrass with 80's Hair Metal
>it is terrible, and you already miss home
>the hairy human's hand ruffles the fluff of your darker blue mane
Don't worry, lil' fella. The farm's got plenty of room and food for you.
>frankly, you don't believe him, but your old owner wouldn't hand you off to some freak
>still, you're quiet until he puts Star and yourself down on the grass, and he lays down the rules
>pretty standard stuff, and unlike other fluffy ponies you remember it easily
>Star goes off to explore this new property and you follow
>your new owner's property is much larger and far greener than your old home
>the trees alone are far beyond taller than any you've seen before
>you trot along in relative silence until you come to a wooden fence
>your luck and keen nose has actually lead you to wild strawberries growing next to one of the posts
>Star, without thinking waddles over to feast while you watch, homesickness having ruined your appetite
>while she is gorging, you see movement
>clumsy, pastel fluff movement

>trundling out of the underbrush is a dirty unicorn the color of mint leaves
>"Bad fwuffies! Dis our nummies!" the unicorn barks as more emerge, puffing their cheeks and fanning their wings
>your hoof pokes Star's rear, startling her with a little eep
>"Wha...? Fewal fwuffies?" she says through a mouthful of juicy red mush
>you apologize, pulling your sister from the little bush
>there's still plenty of fat berries left but this belligerant savage still seems upset
>infantile threats of 'ouchies' cause you to retreat
>not out of any real fear, but because you're not going to get into a fight over fruit
>as the two of you walk off, the herd begins grazing on the grass and cheering about chasing off bad fluffies
>normally you like to think you're above the petty bloodlust of your father
>you are a peacful creature
>however, something about these stupid mongrels really rustles your fluffy jimmes
>back to the house and ask your new friend when lunch is served
>you are pleased when he doesn't bother with cliches and gives you a bit of oatmeal with bits of peach in it
>fucking sick of spaghetti

>Star divulges to the big hairy guy that a bunch of feral fluffies were grazing on his land
>this doesn't please him, but he doesn't seem overly concerned
>you ask him about his reaction, but he tries to explain it like you're a slow child
>after an... inadequate explanation about how they'll probably try to claim the house for themselves and shit all over everything, you excuse yourself to go deal with the problem
>you aren't a violent fluffy but if they're going to try making your life hell, you'd rather get the first punch in
>they're still milling around near the fence, humping or grazing or just playing their stupid little games
>the minty idiot is dismounting from a brown earth fluffy when you show up
>he puffs his cheeks and stomps the grass, his posse following suit
>"Smawty fwiend say dis our gwassies now! Dumb fwuffy go!"
>you facehoof and try to explain that they have to leave because your owner is probably going to kill them if they don't
>they apparently lack a concept of death and the 'smart friend' now wants to force you away
>he starts biting and trying to gore your fluff
>more annoying than painful but this is aggression you don't care to deal with
>unlike your parents, you actually have something closer to an actual horse's hoof
>you give a comparatively hard strike across the unicorn's horn
>while the idiot's little brain is rattled, you rear back and slam both hooves into his wide-open eyes

>previously tough tough dissolves into scared whimpering as the not-so-smarty friend goes into shock
>hooves bloodied, you start walking back to the farmhouse
>the herd follows you
>facehoof again, getting minty's blood on your face
>you ask why they're following you after you killed their stupid leader
>apparently they now think you're their smart friend
>jimmies mysteriously unrustled by this
>you don't have the patience for this, and keep walking
>Star is belly-up in the hairy guy's lap as he bobs back and forth in a rocking chair
>you climb the steps, hooves clacking on the wooden steppes
>your new minions shy from the "two-weg munstah" as he looks down with eyes glazed and pungent smoke rolling from his mouth
O-oh man! What happened, Moon?
>you explain the nature of your predicament
>he rubs the back of his neck
Man, that's kind of fucked up but... you gotta own up to responsibility...
>fluffypokerface.jpg
>as if to puncuate this, a dam goes into labor and one of the stallions has a particularly loud case of diarrhea

>between the spastic dookie of Mr. Shit-Kazoo and the screaming of "babehs comin'" you can tell watching over these morons is going to be Herculean
>Star stirs onto her side, "Moon, why fewas fowwing you?"
>you explain it again, your sister laughing at your misfortune while Hairy rubs her belly
>"do you want a cwown, yo' higness?!"
>you sneer bitterly, but you know this probably looks more silly than threatening
>insulted, you feel like she's questioning your ability to lead
>even if it was entirely unintentional, you resolve to rule these dipshits well, if only to throw it in Star's smug blue face
>one of the new foals is a minty green unicorn
>with a show of brutality, you crush it's soft skull under your hoof and lay down your law
>they weep as you tell them that they are no longer going to wander or mate as they please
>you are a blood-drenched Buddha that will teach them a better way to live even if half of them are too broken and bloody to hear him
>this diatribe impresses Hairy, but the fluffies are more confused than anything

>in smaller words and with great repetition you lay down your laws
>first off, they aren't allowed to give "special hugs" without your permission
>they will graze where you say, when you say
>bodily waste is to be deposited where the "two-leg monster" tells you to
>you crush no more foals, but you threaten to hurt more of their young if they fail to understand
>with that handled, you tell them to bed down in your new owner's crops, but anyone eating it will be dealt with
>they don't know what that means, but you make sure it sounds bad
>unlike your old owner, Hairy lets you sleep in his big wide bed
>you both rest near his head, since him rolling over in the night would likely prove painful, if not deadly
>thus ends your first day as a barbarian king
>just the tip of a shit-iceberg