ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
"I tell you Steward, I have the most difficult job in all of Equestria. Not only am I one of the chief ministers of the royal court, I'm also practically a father to the Princesses themselves!"
The immaculately-groomed grey unicorn, who was the chief butler of the Royal Palace and keeper of its expansive pantries and wine cellar, merely nodded politely, quite used to hearing Seneschal's ramblings. This was not the first time the magistrate had wandered into his cellar and indulged too much of its stock of salt and cider, and he was positive that it wouldn't be the last. As much as these one-sided ramblings annoyed the butler, it was far better to let the older pony work out his frustrations under his watchful eye. The last time he left the magistrate alone in the cellar he and his staff were cleaning up broken glass and spilt salt for weeks.
"You'd think that it would be easy, especially after raising two foals and five…no, six, six grandchildren, that it would be easy to raise two more, even if they are the Princesseses," Seneschal continued, his words starting to slur.
Steward suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, being a father of a young filly himself. Even if the magistrate probably was too deep in his saltlick to notice, the chief butler still had a strong sense of professionalism was deeply ingrained in him. "Of course, sir," he replied neutrally.
"But they're alicorns!" Seneschal shouted, banging a hoof against the small table within the large cellar room. "Sun-drenched alicorns, who can move the sun and moon like it's nothing!" He knocked over an empty bottle of cider for emphasis, which started to roll towards the edge of the table. A soft grey glow enveloped the glass vessel, preventing it from crashing against the floor, and Steward telekinetically floated it over to a crate full of empty bottles to be sent back to the vineyards. The magistrate took no notice, continuing on with his rant. "How can you deal with ponies like that? It's a wonder that they even listen to me at all! Especially Princess Celestia, oh, especially Princess Celestia! Sun and skies, I swear she does these things just to annoy me! Doesn't she know that my heart can't take this kind of stress anymore?! Those two will be the end of me yet!" He reached out with his hooves for the bottle of cider, found it gone, then grumbled as he plopped his head in front of the saltlick, gazing at it blankly. "Maybe I should just retire," he said sadly. "I've certainly served Equestria long enough to deserve it."
"That certainly is your prerogative, sir," the chief butler replied, his tone unchanging.
The magistrate sighed in defeat. "It certainly is, Steward, it certainly is," he said. He was quiet for a long moment. "But…I know I won't," he finally continued. "You know why, Steward?"
"Why is that, sir?" the butler asked, already knowing the answer but humoring the old pony anyway.
"Because…because I love those two fillies," Seneschal said, his voice growing thick with emotion. "Princesses or no, they're still like daughters to me. Two all-powerful, pain-in-the-flank daughters that I never had, but they are good little ponies. They'll grow up to be good rulers, I know they will." He sniffed, blinking away the tears forming in his eyes. Even Steward had to cough discreetly to work out the sudden lump in his own throat. "I'm proud of them," the magistrate continued. "They'll be the end of me yet, but I'm still so very proud of them."
He was silent for a moment, quietly sorting out his turbulent emotions through the haze of cider and salt. Finally, he shook his head and sat up. "I might as well do as my Princess bade and take a nap. I'm starting to get too old and sentimental for this time of day. Or night. Whatever time it is." He shook his head again and groaned. "I hope this holiday doesn't affect the royal calendar too badly. Perhaps we can just call it one day and be done with it."
"I'm sure the other magistrates will agree, sir," Steward replied, happy that the magistrate was finally leaving his cellar so he could clean it up properly.
Suddenly the sound of hoofsteps on stone thundered down the staircase leading up to the kitchens. The door flew open, revealing one of the royal guards, panting heavily from running so fast in his heavy armor. Steward guessed that the guard must had been running all over the palace looking for them. He was probably a new recruit, otherwise he would have known to come here straight away.
"Sir!" the guard shouted, giving Seneschal a quick salute. "The Princesses have returned!"
The effects of the cider and salt immediately disappeared from the magistrate's face. "They have? Where are they now?"
"In the tower, and they brought a colt with them, too!"
Seneschal's face immediately went slack, and he just stared at the guard in shock. "A…colt?" he said numbly.
The armored pony looked back at the magistrate in bewilderment. "Uh, yes, sir."
"About how old would you say this colt is?" the older pony continued. "Very young? No more than ten summers?"
"Er, no sir," the guard replied. "I would say more like sixteen, at least."
Seneschal didn't say anything for several long moments, just staring straight ahead and breathing deeply through his nostrils. The guard shuffled a bit nervously, and even Steward felt a bit uneasy. "Um, sir?" the guardpony ventured.
"Arrrgh! Sun, skies, and the moon!" the magistrate suddenly shouted. "I've had it! I went through this four times already with my own fillies, I don't need to deal with this with the sun-drenched Princess!" Both the guard and chief butler jumped back in fright, watching him carefully with wide eyes.
"I've had enough of this," he grumbled, walking over to the cider rack and pulling a bottle from it with his mouth. "If the Princesses ask where I am, tell them I'm taking a nap!"
The immaculately-groomed grey unicorn, who was the chief butler of the Royal Palace and keeper of its expansive pantries and wine cellar, merely nodded politely, quite used to hearing Seneschal's ramblings. This was not the first time the magistrate had wandered into his cellar and indulged too much of its stock of salt and cider, and he was positive that it wouldn't be the last. As much as these one-sided ramblings annoyed the butler, it was far better to let the older pony work out his frustrations under his watchful eye. The last time he left the magistrate alone in the cellar he and his staff were cleaning up broken glass and spilt salt for weeks.
"You'd think that it would be easy, especially after raising two foals and five…no, six, six grandchildren, that it would be easy to raise two more, even if they are the Princesseses," Seneschal continued, his words starting to slur.
Steward suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, being a father of a young filly himself. Even if the magistrate probably was too deep in his saltlick to notice, the chief butler still had a strong sense of professionalism was deeply ingrained in him. "Of course, sir," he replied neutrally.
"But they're alicorns!" Seneschal shouted, banging a hoof against the small table within the large cellar room. "Sun-drenched alicorns, who can move the sun and moon like it's nothing!" He knocked over an empty bottle of cider for emphasis, which started to roll towards the edge of the table. A soft grey glow enveloped the glass vessel, preventing it from crashing against the floor, and Steward telekinetically floated it over to a crate full of empty bottles to be sent back to the vineyards. The magistrate took no notice, continuing on with his rant. "How can you deal with ponies like that? It's a wonder that they even listen to me at all! Especially Princess Celestia, oh, especially Princess Celestia! Sun and skies, I swear she does these things just to annoy me! Doesn't she know that my heart can't take this kind of stress anymore?! Those two will be the end of me yet!" He reached out with his hooves for the bottle of cider, found it gone, then grumbled as he plopped his head in front of the saltlick, gazing at it blankly. "Maybe I should just retire," he said sadly. "I've certainly served Equestria long enough to deserve it."
"That certainly is your prerogative, sir," the chief butler replied, his tone unchanging.
The magistrate sighed in defeat. "It certainly is, Steward, it certainly is," he said. He was quiet for a long moment. "But…I know I won't," he finally continued. "You know why, Steward?"
"Why is that, sir?" the butler asked, already knowing the answer but humoring the old pony anyway.
"Because…because I love those two fillies," Seneschal said, his voice growing thick with emotion. "Princesses or no, they're still like daughters to me. Two all-powerful, pain-in-the-flank daughters that I never had, but they are good little ponies. They'll grow up to be good rulers, I know they will." He sniffed, blinking away the tears forming in his eyes. Even Steward had to cough discreetly to work out the sudden lump in his own throat. "I'm proud of them," the magistrate continued. "They'll be the end of me yet, but I'm still so very proud of them."
He was silent for a moment, quietly sorting out his turbulent emotions through the haze of cider and salt. Finally, he shook his head and sat up. "I might as well do as my Princess bade and take a nap. I'm starting to get too old and sentimental for this time of day. Or night. Whatever time it is." He shook his head again and groaned. "I hope this holiday doesn't affect the royal calendar too badly. Perhaps we can just call it one day and be done with it."
"I'm sure the other magistrates will agree, sir," Steward replied, happy that the magistrate was finally leaving his cellar so he could clean it up properly.
Suddenly the sound of hoofsteps on stone thundered down the staircase leading up to the kitchens. The door flew open, revealing one of the royal guards, panting heavily from running so fast in his heavy armor. Steward guessed that the guard must had been running all over the palace looking for them. He was probably a new recruit, otherwise he would have known to come here straight away.
"Sir!" the guard shouted, giving Seneschal a quick salute. "The Princesses have returned!"
The effects of the cider and salt immediately disappeared from the magistrate's face. "They have? Where are they now?"
"In the tower, and they brought a colt with them, too!"
Seneschal's face immediately went slack, and he just stared at the guard in shock. "A…colt?" he said numbly.
The armored pony looked back at the magistrate in bewilderment. "Uh, yes, sir."
"About how old would you say this colt is?" the older pony continued. "Very young? No more than ten summers?"
"Er, no sir," the guard replied. "I would say more like sixteen, at least."
Seneschal didn't say anything for several long moments, just staring straight ahead and breathing deeply through his nostrils. The guard shuffled a bit nervously, and even Steward felt a bit uneasy. "Um, sir?" the guardpony ventured.
"Arrrgh! Sun, skies, and the moon!" the magistrate suddenly shouted. "I've had it! I went through this four times already with my own fillies, I don't need to deal with this with the sun-drenched Princess!" Both the guard and chief butler jumped back in fright, watching him carefully with wide eyes.
"I've had enough of this," he grumbled, walking over to the cider rack and pulling a bottle from it with his mouth. "If the Princesses ask where I am, tell them I'm taking a nap!"
Literature
O My Blue Soul
By sickness, Death’s herald and champion,
We were murdered.
They didn’t want to hear
Our screams. They see us as merely queer.
I screamed at you that night we saw the first
Black balloon on your chest. I planned to make you burst
Into tears and blood. My guilty conscience
Kept me from my grievance.
I left, never to return. And then
You died.
I lied to everyone,
Said it was you, not I who left. Not I who was weak
And broken and foolish and willing to throw us away. We were dying anyway, what was the point of being meek?
I lied about everything. I can’t stop, even if I wanted to.
And I do.
Telling the truth, even now-
It wou
Literature
Evolutie_paragraaf 58.2
In een wereld doordrenkt met verderf en terreur scharrelt onze voorouder; de Oetrus Hamsterus.
Trippelend beweegt het zich voort, op zoek naar voedsel om te consumeren. Het jaagt op de Poetus Pompeusoes; een kruising van wat wij nu als een eekhoorn en een stokstaartje beschouwen. Dit diertje heeft de eigenaardige eigenschap dat het in noodsituaties opeens kan vliegen. Zodra het diertje (ter grootte van een gemiddelde vuist) uit de noodsituatie verplaatst is verdwijnen zijn vleugeltjes als sneeuw voor de zon.
Deze eigenschap maakt de Poetus Pompeusoes tot een moeilijke prooi voor de Oetrus Hamsterus. Daardoor is de Oetrus Hamsterus ook spoed
Literature
FFM28 - Alliance
“Let me get this straight,” Sadi began, glaring at the fae present. “You want to work with them? Instead of getting paid?”
Ace nodded. “I found out why they started the Rebellion, love,” he said seriously. “It’s not pretty. We’ll have to head back, get Poly and Maria. Convince them to help. I don’t want to be on Poly’s bad side.”
“‘Get on my bad side’?” croaked a voice from behind him. Ace whirled around, blinking at the sight of Maria standing awkwardly beside Shade, a crow perched on her shoulder. The crow huffed and ruffled its fea
Featured in Groups
© 2012 - 2024 Aramis-Dagaz
Comments0
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In