Pep Talk & Momma Moon

Something cute with Lightning Dust
>You’re up before it happens.
>You always are.
>Something about a routine makes it so that you never wake up when you plan, but always a little bit before.
>Maybe it would do you well to plan to sleep in one day, but today is not that day.
>Despite the fact that you’re awake, your mind is still slow and sluggish.
>You’d much prefer to drift back to sleep, but it’s about to happen.
>And then any additional rest will be a foregone conclusion.
>It might be better to get out of bed now.
>But you’re so…
>Comfy.
>Maybe just a little while longer today…
>And then it happens.
>From down in the kitchen you hear a click and a hiss of heating water as your coffeemaker kicks on.
>Soon after the gentle aroma drifts up and tickles your nose.
>You never had a chance.
>With all the eloquence of a bear in a tutu, you stumble out of your bedroom, catching yourself against the walls with your palms as you stagger your way into the kitchen.
>Smacking your lips, you eye the coffee pot and go scavenging for a clean mug.
>After a fruitless search, you settle for one that still has a coffee ring around the rim from a day or two ago
>When it’s all said and done, you’ve managed to prepare yourself the morning brew without scalding yourself once.
>Holding your mug between your thumb, index and middle fingers, you chuckle and move to take a sip.
“I still got it.”
>You spend the next three minutes cursing around your burnt tongue.
>Not that there’s much else to do but wait at this point.
>Fixing your eyes on the bird feeder in the backyard, you drum your fingers against the table and wait.



>And wait.
>…And wait…
>Just as you’re about to give up, the flutter of wings catches your ears.
>A long shadow flies over the house in the pre-dawn light, circling the feeder a handful of times before the owner begins to descend and perch on the wooden bar extending out from it.
>She’s a pretty thing, sort of an aquamarine color with brilliant gold running down from the top of her head.
>Despite her size, she’s incredibly lithe with a great sense of balance, managing to perch four hooves on a stand only a few inches wide.
>As your morning visitor stops off for a bite to eat, you rap on the window twice.
>The pegasus’ head jerks, knowing she’d been caught red-handed and blushing furiously.
>You’d think that she would get used to this, since you go through the same motions every day, but it’s always the same; like she’s ashamed to be eating out of the feeder.
>Kneeling down, you shimmy the window up a few inches before sliding your fingers through the gap and lifting it the rest of the way.
>With a broad smile on your face, you lean on the window trim and stare out at her.
“Good morning, Dusty.”
>Any sort of embarrassment that the pegasus was feeling is gone in an instant as she scowls back at you.
>Taking a few more seconds to dig at the feeder, she flutters down to the ground and stalks up to the house.
>“What did I say about calling me that?”
“That you don’t mind it too much as long as I leave something out for you in the morning?”



>Lightning Dust snorts and rolls her eyes, though her expression softens a little as she sit down in the dewy grass.
>She seems like a pretty good kid, granted one who thinks that she’s invincible, who’s just had a run of bad luck.
>Kicked out of that performing flying team from Cloudsdale and then evicted from her house because she couldn’t keep her job and try to be a performance pony at the same time.
>She’d made it work somehow, probably sleeping out in the clouds most nights while she’s waiting for this new job to pan out.
>Giving her a cordial grin, you reach out and ruffle her mane.
>She doesn’t look too pleased that you’re touching her, though she doesn’t bother to hide the fact that she’s leaning into it either.
“So, what have you got this morning?”
>The aqua pony grunts and nods to a satchel on her saddle bag.
>“Some missive from the Minotaurs, they say it’s something about tour dates for that one self-help idiot.”
>You raise an eyebrow and take a prolonged sip of your coffee.
“You mean Pony Robbins?”
>“No, no, the rhyming one.  Y’know, the one who doesn’t need a reservation for himself and his jaw?”
>The two of you share a short laugh and you can see the pegasus visibly relax as she dons a simple smile.
>May as well be as good a time as any.
“So, Dusty?”
>Rolling her eyes again, the mare grins and yawns.
>“Mhmm?”
“When are you getting back on the horse, so to speak?”
>It takes a moment or two for your question to process, but the effect is immediate.
>Her ears and shoulders droop, and that pleasant smirk fades away quick as a blink.
>“I, I think I’m pretty much done with that, Anon; from now on, I’m going to stick to what I’m good at.”
>Sipping at your coffee, you give a quiet grunt and nod.
>After smacking your lips a couple times, you continue.



“Which is what, exactly; serving as a courier?”
>The hairs on the back of Lightning Dust’s neck bristle as she hops to her hooves and snarls in your direction.
>“I’ll have you know that there’s a lot of money to be made running messages!”
>The bared teeth, the wide eyes, she could be almost scary if her tone of voice didn’t carry the frustration she felt inside.
>Laughing, you wave your hand at her and shake your head.
“I’m sure you could, but that’s not you, Dusty.”
>Turning her head to the side, the mare spits and scowls at you again before sitting down and sighing.
>“But so what?  I got discharged from the Wonderbolts, remember?  In order for me to get back in, Captain Spitfire would have to reinstate me herself, which isn’t going to happen, or it would take a royal decree, which is even less likely.”
>After a moment, the aquamarine pony groans and rocks forward, butting her head against your house with an audible thud.
>“Face it, Anonymous, I’m done.”
>Boy, she is really down in the dumps today.
>You reach your hand out and pat her firmly on the cheek, before pressing your thumb under her muzzle.
“Hey.”
>Dusty’s a mess.
>She’s a few choice words away from bursting into tears.
>Not like it’s the first time that’s happened, but still you hate to see her keep kicking herself over this.
>“Y-yeah?”
“Quit taking yourself out of the game.”
>Like a bolt of lightning, that fire burns back into her eyes and she bristles away from you.
>“What are you even talking about!  I’m not taking me out of the game, they did!  It’s they’re fault; they crushed my dream!”
>You allow her to simmer for a few seconds while you do a quick reorganization of the words in your mind.
>She needs to face facts.
“Dusty…”
>“I-I don’t want to hear it, I’ll never, EVER, be a Wonderbolt; the dream is dead.  Dead!”
>Well, so much for that.



“Hey.  Hey.”
>You reach out and ruffle her mane again.
>Dragging a hoof across her face, Lightning Dust scowls and averts her eyes, though she doesn’t storm off, so that’s something at least.
>You’re not up the creek quite yet.
“What’s more important, the suit or flying with the Wonderbolts?”
>There’s a very snotty snort from the mare as she settles down and glances up at you again.
>She takes a few moments to think about it, but her answer is firm.
>“Much as it means to me, the suit’s just a suit.  All I want, all I ever wanted, was to perform with the Wonderbolts.”
>Nodding, you purse your lips in a teasing grin.
“And you said you were the best flier out there when you were training?”
>Lightning Dust buzzes her lips and laughs.
>She hops to her hooves and strikes a pose, pulling one foreleg up to her belly and arching her back ever so slightly.
>“Please the only one of them who could even dream of keeping up with me is Rainbow Dash, and she’s at her best in the open air.  Everywhere else, this mare rocks the house!”
“So, when are you going to prove it?”
>Cocking her head to the side, Dusty gives you a confused frown.
>Before she can think about it too much, you press forward.
“Prove it.  Join another performance team and wipe the floor with every last one of those latex-clad losers.”
>The mare’s eyebrows seem to arch up further as she considers your suggestion, confusion giving way to something that almost looks like uncertainty.
>“But, that’s not what I wanted…”
>Bringing two fingers to your temple, you give her a caring, but tired smile.
“You want to show everyone that you’re the best right?”
>“A-absolutely!”
“So, if the Wonderbolts won’t let you back in, you have to show them up on your own terms.  Sooner or later they’ll realize what they missed out on.”
>That does seem to pique the young pony’s interest.



>She rocks from one side to the other as she stares at the ground before looking up and giving you a small smile.
>“…I’ll think about it.”
“Atta girl.”
>The two of you exchange grins, however it’s far too short lived as Lightning Dust flinches in the growing light.
>“Well, I guess I better get going.  Minos wants this delivered ASAP.”
>You raise your half-empty coffee mug and nod her off.
>Dusty takes to the sky, but before she flies off, she buzzes the house once, shouting at the window.
>“Same time tomorrow?”
>You don’t miss a beat and call right back.
“Of course!”
>With a tilt of her wings, the mare’s airborne again and making her way off into the distance.
>Stretching your arms over your head, you pop your back and shuffle back to the kitchen to start on breakfast.
>The sizzle of bacon in the pan soon follows.
>At once, there’s a sudden clatter outside from your feeder.
>You sigh and do your best to ignore it.
>The clattering continues for several more seconds before falling silent.
>Just as you’re moving the bacon to a dish, you hear a familiar voice call to you.
>“Hey dweeb!  You’re out of sunflower seeds!  What’s the deal?”
>A smile crosses your face as you grab another plate and split the meat before carrying both over to the window.
“Good morning Gilda, how’s things?”
>Just another morning at Anonymous’ Aviary for the Almost-There.


Reverse Moonie

Momma Moon

>Okay, this is it.
>There’s only one chance to make a first impression, so this has got to blow them out of the water.
>You shake yourself loose and take a steadying breath.
>Wait, should you use spearmint before going out there?
>After all, you are going to be roaring at the top of your lungs.
>What if they think the only terrifying thing about you is your breath?
>Anxiousness settles in as you begin to trot in place, running down the list of things that could go terrible wrong.
>You might teleport off center and stumble for balance.
>That’s certainly not imposing.
>You could forget your monologue.
>You’ll be forever remembered as the Mumbling Mare in the Moon.
>Even worse, what if you do manage to pull off the dramatic entrance and your voice cracks!
>A thin sheen of sweat appears on your forehead as you gnaw on your lower lip.
>This is a terrible idea, you shouldn’t be doing this.
>Even as that thought crosses your mind you take a breath and attempt to calm yourself.
“Easy girl, the plan is already in motion.  Princess Celestia is locked away and aside from one little hitch, its smooth sailing ahead.”
>Another deep breath has you settling back into your evil nightmare groove.
>With a sinister smile, you push your thoughts aside and whisper,
“Showtime.”
>As you gather together the magic to perform the spell, a loud yawn pierces through your concentration.
>Oh no…
>Not now.
>“Hn, Momma?”
>You sigh and chose to forgo the spell for the moment, instead casting your eyes to the figure stumbling towards you.
“Good morning, Anonymous.”
>Shaking your head, you wonder about the strange creature.



>His appearance is utterly alien, bipedal and nearly hairless except for the locks on top of his head, with grasping fingers and an enormous head in comparison with his body.
>Rubbing his still sleep-filled eyes with the back of his fist, Anonymous trips over a piece of loose rubble.
>Just as you’re firing up a spell to catch him, his awkward legs seem to find their way back underneath him.
>Life seems to have leapt back into him after the near accident, his eyes wide and bright as he hurries over to you.
>With a grunt, he jumps and grabs your foreleg, grinning up at you.
>“Morning Momma!”
“I’ve told you not to call me that!”
>Despite your huff of frustration, you feel your cheeks coloring.
“My name is Moon, Nightmare Moon.”
>Anonymous stares for a moment and then smiles all the wider before burying his face into your leg and rubbing from one side to the other.
>“Momma Moon!”
>Oh dear.
>Your face goes hot as that as you feel the corners of your lips trying desperately to turn upwards.
>Through sheer force of will, you suppress the smile and change it into a scowl.
>In an attempt to appeal to authority, you clear your throat and direct your attention fully to the biped.
“Anonymous, you should be in bed.  It is far too early for young boys to be up and about.”
>“I don’t wanna sleep.  I wanna be with Momma!”
>That cheerful expression.
>Those slightly chubby cheeks.
>It’s enough to make your heart melt.
“Th-that’s all well and good, child, but I have a great many things to do today; things which I cannot do while you are present.”
>A flash of understanding creases across the boy’s brow as he digests that information.
>And then, just as quickly, he scowls right back at you!



>“Momma, you’re gonna do something bad, aren’t you?”
>The… the gall of this child!
>Before you can respond, Anonymous wraps his arms and legs around you and continues.
>“Momma I don’t want you to be bad!”
>You give your hoof a shake in an attempt to rattle the boy loose, but he’s stuck to you like a burr in summertime.
>If anything, he tightens his grip and puffs his cheeks out in protest.
>Fine, if he will not be dissuaded by action then you shall use reason.
>After all, he’s a smart boy.
>Surely he’ll see that you are in the right for wanting vengeance.
“Anonymous, dear.”
>You see his expression soften a little and the ghost of a smile return.
“You must understand that I have to do this.  It is my responsibility as N-”
>The boy’s expression darkens as you continue.
>With one finger he jabs you in the side, just under behind the joint where your leg meets the barrel of your body.
>You give a sudden and wholly unqueenly giggle as your explanation gets derailed.
>Bringing his finger back to the front, he holds it up in front of you and scowls.
>“Momma Moon’s not supposed to be bad.”
>Cheeky child…
>Flashing the boy a warning look, you purse your lips in an attempt to convey how absolutely serious you are on this.
“You can’t understand this right now Anonymous, but I promise I’ll explain when you’re older.  But, for the time being you must let me go.”
>“No!”
>Oh dear.
>You’d hoped to avoid this.
“Anonymous, I’m giving you until the count of three to let go.”
>When the child doesn’t move and grips you tighter, you sigh and begin the count.
“One…”
>His hands slip around his wrists, and then nearly up to his elbows.
“Two…”
>You can feel his ankles lock tight around your leg.
“…Two and a half…”



>Those cheeks, puffed out in righteous fury, join together with a steely defiant gaze that has no place on a child, much less in front of royalty.
“I promise you’re not going to like what’s next.  Two and three-quarters…”
>Nothing.
“Three.”
>You sigh again and let the magic flow through your horn.
>He brought this upon himself.
>
>
>
>As your magical essence coalesces on the balcony, the first sounds you hear are the gasping of the ponies below.
>It really has been too long since you struck fear into the hearts of ponies.
>“Oh no… Nightmare Moon!”
>Oh to be recognized, how wonderful.
>You give a leisurely stretch and then smile out at the ponies who undoubtedly had been expecting their Princess.
“Oh, my beloved subjects.  It’s been so long since I’ve seen your precious, little sun-loving faces.”
>From below come sounds of dissent, a blue pegasus scowling and shouting up at you.
>“What did you do with our Princess?”
>What indeed?
>You smile and give a short laugh.
“Why, am I not Royal enough for you?  Don’t you know who I am?”
>Just as a pink pony is getting ready to speak, an all too clear voice rings out through the room.
>“You’re Momma Moon!”
>The room goes deathly quiet as your face colors.
>Anonymous, having detached himself from your leg, hurls his body over the railing up to the shoulders.
>Grinning at the gathering below, the boy gives an excited wave and laughs.
>“Hi ponies!”
>Bringing a hoof to your face, you sigh and shake your head.
>This is going to make for a very long eternal night.