Ask Scootaloo Pie

Fluttershy is Alive

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Hi Tumblr. I’m grounded.

I stayed up last night in a kind of daze, laying on Ms. Rarity’s couch and watching infomercials until about 2 AM. Then I started to get the same feeling again—but stronger. It was a ripping, twisting feeling spreading through my body, like someone had reached into me and was trying to shake my heart loose from my chest. I stood up to run to the bathroom like Ms. Rarity had told me to do, but instead I ended up running out the front door. Just running and running and running, back to miss Pinkamina’s house. I had completely forgotten I owned a scooter. I think I almost flew (I wasn’t paying much attention to how I got there; my wings are just sore and stiff again this morning.)

I slammed on the door five or six times. I didn’t care how loud I was being. I was panting, holding my arms tightly across my chest, doubled-over, about to kneel down and just curl up in a foetal ball on the stoop, when miss Pinkamina answered.

She looked horrible. I mean, not really that bad compared to any of our victims… but I had never seen miss Pinkamina herself like that. Her cheek and lip were torn and wet with blood; her forehead was bruised and had little bits of dirt embedded in it… she had a little piece of her left ear missing. She says that all the damage was from when Fluttershy first escaped, and I guess I just hadn’t noticed it in the commotion. Anyway, she stepped outside with me and closed the door, and gave me a really tight glare, but also a shaky hug. Her eyes were unfocused and her pupils had that weird constricted washed-out strain to them. She stood quietly on the stoop with me for about five minutes, maybe to calm down or to make sure nopony was chasing after me or something, then cracked open the door, whispering for me to stay directly behind her.

I asked in a similar whisper how she had been planning to catch Fluttershy. She unballed her left fist and fanned out a plastic bag. “I’m not planning on killing her. This will work sort of like a garrotte—I just need to get behind her and get it down around her head—then she’ll run out of air and we can take her back upstairs.”

“Won’t she struggle, though? I mean, she was able to get out of the ropes and out of the room and–”

“She surprised me. That’s all. …and you tied those ropes, Scootaloo. It doesn’t matter now, though; whatever burst of energy she worked up is obviously burnt out now. She’ll be back to quivering and crying in a corner somewhere.”

We walked together through the darkened entryway, and into a sort of parlour that miss Pinkamina hadn’t bothered to furnish yet; right now it just has a few long, bare-wood tables, pulled over from the dining room, where we dump out the contents of whatever bags or clothes our victims happened to have on them at the time we found them. I was silently grateful that miss Pinkamina hadn’t decided to dress them with pony-obscuring tablecloths.

Miss Pinkamina raised her hoof in a signal to wait, then went into the other room and came back holding her computer. She pushed the junk off the middle of one of the tables and put it down in the space, then turned the brightness on the screen all the way up. She whispered, “I have a theory about what Fluttershy is trying to do right now; why she hasn’t given herself up yet. Let’s go into the kitchen—and make sure she’s not hiding in there now—then turn this game around on her.”

Miss Pinkamina fiddled for a few more minutes with her hooftop—opening and closing different websites, adjusting the screen so it was tilted to various angles, picking it up and then putting it down again in what looked to me to be the exact same position—then hurriedly snuck out through the arch and disappeared into the darkness. I followed. She was leaning, just out of sight, in the slight alcove the pantry cupboards left beside the entry. She waved me to move into the kitchen itself, and then pointed to the other hall entrance—the one leading into the dining room—then to me, and to her eyes. Then she stopped looking at me, focusing only on the table and the glowing rectangle fifteen feet away. I leaned over to the kitchen counter, and quietly slid a knife out of it. Then I stood in the other corner.

We both waited, statues in a night garden, for what seemed much more than 23 minutes.


Miss Pinkamina’s head shot up and she crept out past her corner, into the faint fuchsia glow of the parlour. I heard Fluttershy’s voice. I padded silently out after her. Ms. Rarity’s sock things had a useful purpose after all.

Miss Pinkamina was standing ready with the mouth of her bag outstretched between her hooves, her arms raised above Fluttershy’s head. She pulled it down; Fluttershy’s legs went out from under her, and her face landed on the wooden floorboards with a limp thump.

I made a noise. I think it might have been a squeak. Miss Pinkamina jumped a few inches in the air and snapped her head around to look at me. She was sitting on Fluttershy now, her hands still pulling the plastic bag taut. She saw the knife in my hand.

“Why do you have that!?” she said. She looked genuinely scared. “Put it away! We’re not going to… kill… h-“

Miss Pinkamina let go of the bag, and got up off the Pegasus.

“Put that back, and help me carry her upstairs.”

((OOC: Props to rainbowdashreplies for the pixelling.))

yawg07 asked:

Does your house have a large basement? I'm just wondering where Fluttershy could be hiding.

The house isn’t that big. It’s kind of cramped, actually, or at least it feels like it right now.

There are three rooms on the top floor—my room, the play-room, and the big bathroom you guys have seen already. On the ground floor, there’s a little entryway where we can throw muddy stuff, where I can leave my scooter, and so on; then there’s a sort of front room that we don’t normally use for much, because you can actually see it through the front door when it’s open. After that, there’s a kitchen, which leads off into a what used to be a dining room—it’s now miss Pinkamina’s bedroom; that room also leads out into a proper living room, which has a bathroom off of it and links back to the front room.

Fluttershy wasn’t so much hiding as she was running (or maybe flying) through the house in circles, very quietly. It was pretty easy to catch her once we were both working together.

How come nopony else seems to notice the injuries incurred upon Fluttershy? I mean, if the stuff done to her is bad enough that she needs bandaging, you'd assume the others would start to ask questions?

This is a dumb question. I mean, if it was anyone other than Fluttershy, it would be an okay question. But I mean, c’mon, really? Fluttershy gives baths to cranky tigers! Fluttershy acts like a therapist for families of bears having domestic disputes! Fluttershy teaches orphaned flying squirrels their particular skill that involves swooping toward the ground and then catching an updraft back into the air—even though her wings don’t work that way!

You might have only managed to see her at her best somehow, but on the average day she’s just as badly beaten up as we’ve ever made her, and completely fine with it. Miss Pinkamina just goes for pain instead of injury, which makes all the difference.

What if, metaphorically, one day you and miss Pinkamina had killed /everyone/ on your list. What would happen? Also what is your favorite sort of pasta?

It might happen. Miss Pinkamina sometimes calls Ponyville “Phase 1.” I have no idea what Phase 2 is, before you ask.

And miss Pinkamina makes this thing called—uhh… one sec, I need to google the spellingSpätzle. She makes it completely from scratch; it takes her a few hours. She says she learned how to make it from her mom. That’s, I think, one of only three things I’ve ever heard her say about any of her family. She seemed happy when she said it, though. And it’s delicious.

corporealdream asked:

do you ever see your old friends? and has helping miss Pinkamina gotten you your cutie mark yet?

Just covered the first part.

So, to answer the other question: no, I don’t have my cutie mark. I doubt any of this is what I’m really good at. I like helping miss Pinkamina, but nothing she does comes naturally to me (or her, either, as far as I can tell.) We just struggle along, learning and guessing and making-do. Although it might look like we’re experts at this, to ponies who just see the results, the execution (hehe) can be a bit sloppy. We’re just good at cleaning up, literally and otherwise.

jameshoofrock asked:

Scootaloo, being a unicorn and all I myself know that a large sum of the *numbered* ponies are unicorns too. How do you and Pinkamina make sure that a magic using unicorn is no threat? I myself could just conjure Bouncy on knifes to stop them hurting me and most common unicorns know basic telekinesis. I at least know 38 different types of magic that could help save me!

Surprise, then drugs. Miss Pinkamina discovered years ago that if you cook down this little flowering weed that grows on dead tree trunks, it makes this syrup that tastes nice, but completely neutralizes any magical abilities a unicorn has (and also, surprisingly, makes unicorns who take it while pregnant give birth to earth-pony foals.) She had to stop putting it in anything for a while because she wanted to make sure everypony could enjoy her baking to no ill effect. Now, it’s a standard part of her anaesthetic formula. She also takes care to remove anything a pony is wearing, and even things like their fillings or contact lenses, in case any of it has been magically enhanced.

lord-tristan asked:

Given what you've said about Miss Pinkamena being obsessed with knowing where everything is at all times, how do you think she'll react when she finds out that you've been running a tumblr right under her nose?

I plan on showing it to her myself, eventually. But I hope… I mean, I think that if she finds it herself, she’ll understand. She talks to Tumblr because she’s lonely. So do I…

sturmpony asked:

What is Phase 1, exactly?

It’s just a term miss Pinkamina throws around without bothering to define it. “Phase 1” is what we’re doing right now. “Phase 1” is also the name of the file on miss Pinkamina’s computer with all the randomly-numbered ponies. I’m guessing ”Phase 2” might be another random set of ponies in another city or something… but I might be completely wrong on that.

typeandprint asked:

So, you're from an alternate universe, eh? Did my number come up yet in your world?

Uh… do you live in a town called Ponyville in your universe? I don’t recognize you… I’ll check, though.

Huh. Turns out you were on the ASAP list. Yeah, you’re dead. Who are you, anyway?

typeandprint asked:

I'm Typewryter. Curator of the Ponyville Museum/ Royal Historical Archive Annex, Ponyville Branch. I'm a translator and a historian. Why would I be on the ASAP list?

Oh. I have no idea.

Though… do you happen to have, somewhere in your archive, a papyrus scroll entitled “How Equestria Was Made”? And if so, have you ever read it? I’m just curious.

typeandprint asked:

Indeed I have. It was written in a very strange language, all codices and ciphers. I am still trying to translate it. Why?

I can’t say right now, sorry. How about I tell you in …umm… five days and four hours?

typeandprint asked:

Why not now? I would really like to know how I could have been stupid enough to get myself killed by the likes of you after everything else I've overcome.

Oh, I don’t actually know that part. I just know that you were on the ASAP list, and that everypony that’s on that list is either dead, or missing and presumed dead, now. It doesn’t necessarily mean miss Pinkamina killed you… that part all happened before I got here. Maybe it’s a coincidence?

What if you found out that you were torturing two Victims and During its Climax Pinkamina Exclaims that the ponies you are torturing are in fact "your Biological Parents"

*sigh*

I know who my parents are. My mother is buried in the Ponyville cemetery. She died giving birth to me. My father lives in Cloudsdale… but for a lot of reasons, I’ve never lived with him, or ever really talked to him. I wouldn’t really care if we killed him.

Describe the first time you became the “Little Homeless Foal who doesn't Scream and has no Gag-Reflex” ?

No.

kittysneezes asked:

Has Miss Pinkamena done any foals yet? Or has it all been adult ponies so far?

That Cupcakes story wasn’t joking about Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. Though really, the idea of Apple Bloom, of all ponies, as their executioner is utterly bizarre. I mean, yeah, they were mean to her… but they’re mean to everypony. And the filly faints at the sight of blood! But anyway, I think I ended up having more fun with those two than miss Pinkamina did.

Miss Pinkamina doesn’t distinguish between adults and foals, you know. I think that’s why I might have a ch… uh.

Have you ever considered including summarized versions of your answered at the end of them?

((OOC: This might be a good idea. However, I don’t know if many people read this blog for the “information content,” rather than (what I hope is) the mimesis of the storytelling style. Would you want a summary of, say, an episode of a TV show at the end? I think it would be pointless.

tl;dr: No, never!

EDIT: Okay, maybe, but only in situations where Scootaloo would actually think to summarize things herself. And those might be unreliable summaries.))

ask-terra-pony asked:

Pinkamina hasn't updated her tumblr in a while, you guys ok?

Uh… I’m still grounded. Miss Pinkamina even took away my computer. I guess she’s being fair by not using hers either…

But I’m borrowing hers right now, while she’s asleep. Send me stuff and I’ll answer while I can!

(I think she’ll let off soon. She seems more and more agitated with nopony to play with…)

Could I just leave this here? By here I mean in the alley near your house. By this, I mean, well... a dead pony. Sorry about that, I meant to slip into Ponyville quietly, but ah... I got jumped... I'm from Manehattan, it's eat or be eaten there, you know! I've followed your blog, and heck if I know what to do with a corpse, so I concealed it as best I could. Hey, you might want to scoop it up soon... sorry again...

Again? That’s the third time this week…

Really now, everypony please listen: we’re not a dumping ground for week-old mouldy bodies. What would we even do with them? We can’t eat it, it’s unsanitary. Everything that ends up on our doorstep just gets carried (i.e. by me) into the Everfree forest and dumped down a ravine. Do that. Don’t call us.

askstarbuck asked:

I'm not on the list? Be sure to tell your universe's Starbuck that. He probably holds a shotgun to the door at all times. Speaking of which, do you ever encounter armed targets?

Armed targets? Yeah, sometimes. They’re just as easy to take down as anypony else. We don’t really know what to do with these afterward, though:

Have you or Miss Pinkamina watched/read Dexter? Not the silly cartoon series, but the OTHER Dexter.

Nope. Like I said, miss Pinkamina likes weird TV and movies and stuff; she avoids anything that could show up on a billboard, pretty much. I’ve read about that show on the Ponynet, though; I think that would be the kind of thing that would make miss Pinkamina lay around moping about how “unoriginal” and “mainstream” she is. Sometimes I think she really underestimates herself…

((OOC: The title of my modblog was, for quite a while, “It’s Dexter meets Kodomo no Jikan!”))

askbasspony asked:

((Thanks for responding :) I loved it. You really do a good job at playing the role of Evil Scootaloo. Makes me think you work with crookedtrees himself with how in character you are!))

((OOC: Pinkamina does things without asking Scootaloo, and Scootaloo just has to go with it. This is how I feel whenever Trees draws a comic. It’s almost method acting!

I think I can manage it mostly because the relationship between Pinkamina and Scootaloo seems perfectly logical to me (not necessarily any sexual element; just a gravitational pull between them.) They’re both disconnected from any family; they both need other people around them to make them feel good about themselves; they’re both detail-oriented and like front-loading plans rather than just-in-time reaction; they’ve both suffered some form of unmentioned previous abuse, which shattered their conceptions of what role-models should be…

If they ever managed to end up talking to one-another for more than five minutes in canon, I think the writers would have to make them become fascinated with each other. Scootaloo’s exaggerated confusion over Pinkie’s coming-of-age story, compared to her friends, I interpret as her trying harder to understand Pinkie than the other two—and if we can assume that the CMC all want their cutie marks equally badly, then it would be for a relational, rather than self-interested, reason.))

Can you give us a Complementary "Plot" Shot -Hobo Pony from the 6th Dimension

I… you know, Tumblr, I actually would do that for you. I wouldn’t mind; it’s just a body part. But, ah… when I show miss Pinkamina this blog, she would see it and if I do that it makes things happen out of order and I don’t…

So, maybe later? It’s, uhmm, it’s hers to show you, not mine.*pink flush*

gildedharlem asked:

Hi there. I don't have much of a question, but I just have to know. Is Dinky's name on the list? I know you've said my name was removed because Pinkamena needs her bills, but I just have to know about my little muffin. She doesn't live in Ponyville anymore, or with me for that matter, but loosing her would still just... well...

Oh… um, hello, Ms. Doo.

Well, it’s not quite that miss Pinkamina just removed you from the list. She understands pony emotions, even if she’s… a bit weak on them herself. (She has them, though; I… I saw, a while ago. I’ll stop implying that she’s a sociopath.)

Anyway, she looked at your life, and listed all the ponies who, if they died, would destroy your emotional stability enough that you would stop delivering the mail. She dropped those ponies from the list. (Dinky is safe.)

Then she listed all the ponies who might interfere with your delivering the mail, or who might kill you or one of the ponies you care about. She moved those to the top of the list.

Have you noticed that your life was a bit… less frightening, lately? That’s probably why. Miss Pinkamina isn’t all bad, you know—when your interests align with her own.

askmolestia asked:

((So, is there a happy ending in the catalog somewhere? You know, an ending where everything is generally OK and fine and satisfied? 'Cause grimdark is fun, but so is smiling.))

((OOC: Yes. This is no purgatory Scootaloo is stuck in; the obstacles are not meaningless and never-ending, nor are her trials shown to the reader for pure schadenfreude. This story may have been born from the setting of a dark comedy, but it is itself a bildungsroman and a supernatural romance.

Also, I don’t really enjoy writing grimdark myself. If there wasn’t a story to tell, the whole blog would be stuff like this.

I plan to take the main (undiverged) plotline toward a conclusion cathartic enough that you can listen to Smiles and Tears while reading it. But that just won’t work if the journey ain’t painful.))

How would you react to seeing a human?

What’s a human?

Oh, derp, I’m sitting right in front of a computer. I will just look them up on the Ponynet.

…ewwwwwwrRRGHGUh. What kind of sick, screwed up creatures are those?

Wait, wait… that’s what miss Pinkamina was talking about in the dream about the tea party! My interpretation of “shaved monkey” was kind of off, then… oh well.

…didn’t Twilight say that Princess Celestia was originally a human? …now I kind of understand her reaction…

((OOC: Look at a shaved bear. Equivalent reaction?))

4horsemenoftheapocalypse asked:

"And in vast mount, foal did fall, with hands which aid the Pink; what pleasure such count; the worn and dead corpses in the sink! How admired a fan, a naive champion, whom do taste daily my name; the time grimly pass, though ever unaware, of outcome arise Death's game. For whom, tis' my wonder to believe, will take the final life, attempt such deceive? What hold Pink does instill - yet dominance incarnate can yet defeat her will! Kill her now before she may take you, and be forever glorious."

Miss Pinkamina is the only pony who I know would never hurt me. Even the Pri… ugh, right, still two days…

Anyway, stop trying to convince me with your cult-y gibberish. If you want miss Pinkamina dead, do it yourself. But you won’t, and you know that. Nopony actually wants to try standing up to her themselves. And they called me a chicken…

((OOC: <3))

corporealdream asked:

did you get to play with fluttershy at all or did Pinkamena hog all the fun?

Not the last time, no. By choice, though. I mean, playing with Fluttershy was fun the first few times, I guess.

It’s strange; once I actually got to know her a bit, it just wasn’t that much fun to do things to her anymore… maybe because she just got used to it, or got used to me. She knew what was going to happen, so she wasn’t even scared… so I stopped playing with her. I mostly just help her clean herself up after miss Pinkamina is done, now. With the new drugs, I can actually just walk her home, but she needs to look at least reasonably alright first, or ponies will ask questions.

You know… this last time, she seemed like she was too worn-out to move, and wouldn’t stop shivering. After I got done with wrapping her wings, I finally realized she was hungry, so I went downstairs and brought her up some soup. She wouldn’t believe me when I said it was vegan, but she eventually stopped fighting and allowed me to feed her a few spoonfuls.

…why did that make me happy, Tumblr? I felt almost like… no, it’s stupid.

I felt, that that was what having a little sister felt like.

I think I might finally have started going crazy…

sturmpony asked:

How many ponies actually know about what Miss Pinkamina and you are up to?

Everypony has suspicions. As for ponies who are actually sure

I think Ms. Rarity is, by how she’s keeping Sweetie Belle away from me now. (For that matter, I think Sweetie Belle found this blog at some point, right when I was first starting it. I don’t know if she’s reading it anymore, but if she is… I miss you.)

Fluttershy knows, obviously. Twilight Sparkle is smart enough to put it all together, but she still acts exactly the same around me, so I don’t know.

Rainbow Dash doesn’t know. I …found that out.

I’d just be guessing about everypony else.

have you ever eaten chicken? what did you think of it?

It was… okay…

lord-tristan asked:

Given Miss Pinkamena's most recent post, does she hit the bottle often or was Fluttershy's brief escape a special occasion?

I try to present her in a positive light for you guys, you know? I try. I want you all to understand what I see in her, understand that she’s fundamentally a good pony… but then she makes me set up the camera and just, just dumps all over her own image in front of the entire world, and…

gah. I’m sorry. I just—sometimes, she…

But she’s not Rainbow Dash, okay? She’s not. Okay, miss Pinkamina drinks sometimes. But she’s completely harmless when she’s drunk… she just gets silly, not… not angry… so, uh, can you all… pretend that didn’t happen? I’d, um, I’d really appreciate it… I don’t want Foal Services to have any reason to investigate my case again… so, please… please?

sturmpony asked:

When did Rainbow Dash get custody of you? Why?

…sigh…

Now I’m the pony letting my heart bleed all over Tumblr. May as well go all the way…

(This is the first part of a long story. I already told part three.)

Last year, there was this meteor shower. It’s one of those things that isn’t all that exciting on its own, but gives everypony an excuse to go hang out together in the middle of the night. Anyway, I was there, and Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom were there, too, and miss Pinkamina and all her friends were there—er, I guess I should say, “Rainbow Dash and all her friends.” That would have been my perception of it at the time. It was really their night out; Applejack and Ms. Rarity had brought Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom with them, and then Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom invited me.

Anyway, a bunch of little white lines started flashing down across the sky, which was, I guess, the reason we were all out there. Apple Bloom had Applejack to hold her up. She always has Applejack, you know? Filly doesn’t know how amazing it is that her older sister just stepped up to take care of her like that, like she was her own foal; never complained, never tried to shirk the responsibility of it for a second… but I wouldn’t dare bring her down by mentioning it.

Ms. Rarity was holding up Sweetie Belle too, which was much more out-of-the-ordinary. When I’ve been over there for the night, Ms. Rarity just ignores her or treats her like a maid—or like a doll—even while talking to me like a normal pony. I don’t know if she’s like that the rest of the time; Sweetie Belle says it’s okay, and I trust her, so I don’t bring it up, but… anyway. I guess Ms. Rarity was either being genuinely nice to Sweetie Belle that night, or at least trying to look that way around her friends. But the effect was good. Sweetie Belle was smiling and laughing in a genuine way, with no traces of worry or doubt or anything. It made me happy just to look at her.

But myself, well… I was stuck on the ground. Nopony to pick me up. I mean, I could see alright… but… well, I felt like, I mean, Rainbow Dash was right there, and I had been talking and joking with her all night—so you’d think she would have thought… but she didn’t.

But I had an idea.

“Hey, Rainbow Dash,” I said to the stars.

“What, kid?” she replied, not looking down.

“I, uh, I dare you to… to fly up there and catch one of those meteorites!”

Twilight Sparkle butted i—er, said, “Scootaloo, that’s highly infeasible. By the time a comet enters the atmosphere, it’s already been heated up to the point where it’s purely gaseous, and–”

Rainbow Dash butted back: “Sounds good, kid; watch this!”

She flew up… and up… and up… after a few minutes, none of us could see her any more, but I guess she just kept going. The streaks in the sky were getting more frequent. Then there was a really bright one—that disappeared, mid-streak. Really faintly, from up above, there was a sort of a soft thump. Then, for another while, nothing.

Everypony else was still watching the light-show, but I was just straining to try to catch sight of Rainbow Dash. Nothing… nothing… and then a tiny blue speck, growing slowly, approaching the hill. She looked like she was flying in a weird, jagged pattern, and I couldn’t figure out why—but then she got closer, and I saw: she was only using one wing. The other was wrapped tightly around itself, curled in.

When she came close enough that I could hear her struggling wingbeats, I shouted, “Hey, Rainbow Dash! Did you do it?” and in response, she spun herself around, whipping her other wing open, and tossed a small, brightly-sparkling rock out from under it toward me. Everpony turned to look (and Ms. Rarity and Fluttershy both leapt in opposite directions away from the projectile—making Sweetie Belle fall off Rarity’s back, but still…) and I pushed myself up off the ground and caught it.

“Nice catch!” Rainbow Dash said, landing neatly beside me and giving me that grin—you know, the one that makes you want to let her, uhm… yeah, that one.

“What? But—” Twilight Sparkle stared at the space-rock I held between my hooves, “but how?

“You told me yourself, Twilight. It was just a cloud of vapor, up there. And the one thing in all of Equestria that can best handle vapor? These wings. Right here.

“Oh! So your own body’s electrost—”

“Twi,” Applejack said, doing some butting of her own, “don’t distract yourself—and all us—figurin’ it out. Just enjoy the show.”

All the adult ponies went back to staring up at the night sky. I was staring at Rainbow Dash. She was panting under her breath, and covered in sweat, fanning herself with her wings… I think she was the only pony who thought she “made it look easy”—though I guess all her friends were too distracted to notice. I went and got her some punch. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, meanwhile, were staring at my rock, which I had set down on the picnic blanket.

“Hey, Scootaloo,” Apple Bloom said in a hushed voice after I got back, “what’d you ask her that for?”

I know what you’re trying to doo…” Sweetie Belle said, leaning over and nuzzling my shoulder in a purposefully-saccharine way, “but I don’t see how daring her to get you a present helps your case any.”

I whispered back to them both, “Just wait; if I know Rainbow Dash…”

“Hey, kid,” Rainbow Dash cut in between the three of us, “show’s still going—and this rock is mine. I dare you to go get one for yourself.”

“I’d be happy to, Rainbow Dash,” I said with a confidence completely detached from the quivering lump in my throat. I stood up, spread my wings, and ran for the crest of the hill. I jumped… and I was in the air for about fiiiiive seconds—and then I fell on my face.

Rainbow Dash laughed.

But then she trotted over to me and put out her hoof, and helped me up.

“My wings… they’re not strong enough. I–”

“Kid, I don’t think your wings are your problem. You aren’t putting enough momentum into your take-off to achieve lift. It’s sort of the same problem I used to have…”

“Really? You—you had problems flying?”

Yeah, I just told you that a few weeks ago. Or sort of glossed over it but whatever Anyway, yeah, I eventually did some cross-country running in highschool that beefed up my legs, and then it wasn’t as much of a problem for me anymore, but while I was still at flight school I just had no idea what I could do to get myself in the air. It sucked.”

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom did their synchronized “awwwwwwh” thing. I made a rather rude face at them, then looked back at Rainbow Dash. She was actually looking directly at me, too.

“So I found this other kid in the class; she was big and strong, having worked down here in Ponyville her whole life—and she, um, helped me. She would hold onto me and get me up in the air at a good speed, then let me go and… and then I could do the rest myself. It really worked! And I think it might work for you, Scootaloo. Whaddya think?”

“I… yes! Yes please yes let’s do it!”

Sweetie Belle smirked at me.

“Okay, kid, hold on—and then don’t!”

Rainbow Dash stood over me and put her arms around my chest, hugging me tightly against her and pushing herself off into the air with her back legs. Her arms and chest were freezing cold, but it was alright. We shot into the air, first just rising, then arcing forward and making the hills and treetops around us blur in the violet darkness.

And then, she let go.

And I flew. I put my wings out, and pushed against the air—and they just caught it, like my hooves would catch the ground, and pushed me back up. And again, and again. I was flying.

I flapped clumsily around to look at Rainbow Dash, where she had stayed, hovering, after letting me go. That grin again. “So, kid—going to go get a piece of the sky for yourself now? Only fair.”

I smiled, ecstatically; I really believed I could do it now. I flapped my wings more strongly against the chilled night air, and climbed; flew past Rainbow Dash’s head, and then farther up, climbing and climbing… I wasn’t paying attention to anything around me, I was lost in the feeling of the wind flowing past me—through me…

And then, coming right toward me, was a big, white, burning piece of the night sky. Not knowing what to do, I spread my wings out, and just stopped there—I was about to start plummeting down, and then it would just pass me by, I mean, it couldn’t have been going that fast—but it was. It hit me, right in the stomach.

It didn’t hurt, so much as it was a big shock—the steam felt like it was burning my skin, and the pressure knocked all the air out of me. I pulled my wings in not so much to capture the ball of gas, as to try to brush it away from me. But when I touched my wings to it, it just sort of… solidified, between my feathers and my coat. And then I had a rock.

Oh, and I was falling.

I thrust my wings back out, and dragged them hard against the air, and felt my descent start to slow—but then the little chunk of skystuff was falling faster than me. So I flipped myself over, and flew down. I flapped toward it, caught it in my hooves and tucked them tightly against my chest, then pulled my downward thrust tightly into a forward roll. It was about then that I realized I was only a few dozen meters from the ground.

Everypony was staring at me. Just staring. Rainbow Dash was back on the ground with them—and probably had been for a while, actually—and she was smiling, this gleeful sort-of girlish smile that I really wish I had seen her wear more often.

I landed, hard, with a thump. Landing is a separate skill, it turns out.

“You did it, ki—Scootaloo! You did it! That was awesome!

I don’t know what part of me said what came out of my mouth after that, but it was “This rock’s for you, then, if you like it so much.”

“Pfeh, a bit smaller than the one I grabbed, isn’t it? But… heh, that’s okay. Scootaloo, I, uh… do you want to come out flying with me, sometime?”

I nearly broke her eardrums with the force of that “YES!”

Every time we went out flying together, she got to know more about me, which made her more comfortable around me, I guess; and I… I suppose that as I got to know her better, I stopped being so afraid of screwing up in front of her, and started to treat her like somepony I could know, rather than some paragon I could only look toward in the distance.

Anyway, I talked her into adopting me, about a month later. She had never wanted a foal of her own—but you should have seen the look on her face when I admitted to her where I slept at night. She said she “wanted to do better.”

…I guess she didn’t, though…

((OOC)) will you release your stories from here and the others that go with Scoots for people to read rather than on the blog? Been an Avid watcher of this blogs and Pinkaminas. Her picture answers are awesome and and your stories are really enjoyable! You always seem to make Scoots more interesting!!!

((OOC: Yeah, I probably will at some point.))

((So, in regards to the "long story", you haven't really told much of part two, right (as of September 9th)? Also, I think your writing is spectacular.))

I gave Tumblr a vague hint of it before, but that was really only about the bad part. Living with Rainbow Dash was fun, and painful, and scary, and happy; and stupid, too, but also awesome, and… I don’t know. It was a bunch of things. I’m avoiding telling part 2 because it’s not a coherent story in my mind. Sure, a bunch of stuff happened, which I could tell you about… but it would just be a mess, like it is inside my head. I’ll work it out eventually, I think.

Hey, Scootaloo... You've probably have had this asked before, but, Well, um.... I have absolutely no way of knowing whether or not I'm in Miss Pinkamina's number system. I'm scared stiff... I'm nopony special, a nopony. I don't want to die. I'm scared, if I'm in her little list somewhere, then why? Nothing special about my life, and it wouldn't hurt or help anyone if Miss Pinkamina took it, but I... I still want to keep it. I don't want to die...

If you hadn’t sent this in anonymously, I could just look you up in the list, you know. But, let’s see what I can do anyway…

Here’s a self-test for whether you’re likely to be on the list. Answering any of these with a yes means that you’re probably not on the list.

  1. Have you never lived in, or regularly commuted to, Ponyville? (And I’m talking specifically about the Ponyville I’m sitting in right now. If you live in a different Ponyville—and if I understand this Tumblr thing, that seems pretty common—you’re not on our list. But, if there’s another Pinkamina there, you might be on her list. Different places, different rules.)
  2. Do you—or anypony who depends on you emotionally—perform a necessary part in the infrastructure services of Equestria (mail delivery, power and weather generation, water treatment, garbage disposal, etc.)?
  3. Are you a farmer who lives entirely off of their own land, and only eats things cultivated there?
  4. Would an investigation of your death somehow require miss Pinkamina (as a witness, friend, relative, etc.)?
  5. Do you have a psychological or physiological problem that would prevent miss Pinkamina from having fun with you? (This is a recent rule; I’ll explain the story behind it soon.)

If you can’t answer any of the above questions with a yes, it’s very, very likely your number will come up at some point. But really, don’t worry so much about it. We’re not gods; we all die eventually. Miss Pinkamina is just one more thing in a long list of things that might kill you. If you like life so much, get off the Ponynet and go live it!

Quick, which victim has been the most enjoyable?

I already had this question sitting in my inbox (sorry to whoever sent it the first time), but I was putting it off because it was really hard to decide. But okay, quick. As in, first thing that comes to my mind, probably will think of a better one later. Okay:

Me, personally: this mare named Parasol. She said ponies called her “showers.” It, uhm, fit her. Ehe.

Miss Pinkamina’s personal favorite was definitely Fluttershy, until this last time. Now I don’t know what she thinks of her. Maybe she doesn’t know what to think, either…

lord-tristan asked:

In your opinion, how clopped-up is your life at this moment? Also, have you gotten your computer back yet?

I could complain about some stuff… but really, I think I’m happy right now.

And yeah, miss Pinkamina let me back on it tonight—after sending me out for a new victim. I… you would not believe some of the noises I’m hearing from down the hall. I thought I was over being embarrassed about things like that, but, well, it’s miss Pinkamina making them…

Has Pinkamina ever hit you? Was she drinking when/if she did?

No. Miss Pinkamina has never, would never, and will never hurt me.

When she’s drunk she sometimes hurts herself…

But not me. Never me. Not even if I asked her to. Not even if I begged.

he scootaloo do you see miss pinkamena as a mother or a friend or just a crazy pony

I don’t see her as any of those things. Well, okay, she is a crazy pony. But “crazy” isn’t part of what comes to mind when I look at her. Miss Pinkamina is…

Have you ever gone mountain-climbing? Not just a little mountain, but the big kind, that requires you to bring camping gear and a guide and stuff.

Well, miss Pinkamina is a lot like one of those guides, who have been up and down the mountain tons of times, even though it’s just the first time for you. If I feel lost—she knows the way. If I screw up—she’s able to fix things. But she relies on me to help her up, too… after making sure I know just what to do to help her.

No, that’s not right. Maybe she’s like a… maybe comparisons with things I don’t know much about are stupid.

She’s a lot like what I hoped Rainbow Dash would be like. She’s rough with other ponies, but gentle with me… she cares about what I think, she does things just to make me happy…

In some other ways, she’s actually a little bit like Sweetie Belle… she daydreams a lot; she says I inspire her, hehe…

She’s… she’s everything. She’s all I need.

((OOC: No she ain’t, kid.))

cureall asked:

So I know that Zecora was killed before you Miss Pie adopted you, but I'm curious, have you encountered any other zebras in your escapades? Is their anatomy much different from that of a pony?

I have! As it turns out, there was a young family of zebras that lived “in” Ponyville for a few years before I was born (as in, within the city limits—they apparently never really talked to anypony, or had any reason to come into town. I think their aloofness may have been what made Ponyville weird about zebras in the first place…) Anyway, living in Ponyville means you end up on the list, which means that, when it got to be their turn, I had to go and track them down.

We decided to bring them in all at once, because I didn’t want to have to go all the way out to [a far-away land] more than once. So, miss Pinkamina packed me a day-bag, and I did what Rainbow Dash had taught me to do, months ago, to get myself in the air when nopony was around to help me up: I went up to the bluffs to the northwest of town (which was a few hours’ hike by itself), and jumped off them. Flew the rest of the way there. (There was this weird shimmering green… stuff I flew through right at the edge of the Everfree forest, but after that it was just grass and hills and trees for miles and miles.)

It turns out that only one of them was still alive: an older mare named Ajali, I think originally the younger of the family’s two daughters. She was friendly and kind, and all I had to say to get her to agree to come back with me was that I was sent to retrieve her. She never asked why, or where we were going; she just followed me back home in personable silence.

When we arrived back at the house, Miss Pinkamina actually invited her in and had tea with her. It was spiked tea, but still—miss Pinkamina having nervous, polite conversation with somepony she didn’t know in her own home was really adorable.

Through the whole session with her, she never wept or begged. She screamed, yes—she screamed a lot—but it looked like she had utterly accepted what was going to happen to her. I kind of admire her; I hope that if that’s how I end up, I’ll be able to do the same.

But oh! You asked about their anatomy. We both got a good look. Outwardly, they’re only slightly different from a… regular? (ech; I don’t want to sound racist here…) pony; their bone structure leans slightly more toward donkey, rather than horse, presentation, and not at all like the light, hollow bones of pegasus ponies. Their tails grow slightly differently; there’s a length of just… tail-ness, before it gets fluffy. Miss Pinkamina said that the most important difference was in their brains, though, and wasn’t visible to the naked eye. (She actually has a microscope, and slides, and stuff, which she then used to dissect Ajali’s brain cross-section by cross-section. I’m undecided on whether that’s cool or nerdy.)

Everypony who pays attention in biology class knows that unicorns (and earth-ponies, who are genetically 99% similar to unicorns) have a concentration of, um… stuff (I’ll have to ask miss Pinkamina for the term again, I forgot) in their brains’ pineal glands, which can be channeled through a unicorn horn, or just generally released throughout the body, to produce unicorn magic (okay, okay, “to produce what is commonly called unicorn magic, but for which the technical term is sympathy,” says Twilight Sparkle. Every single time she explains a spell.) Pegasi, of course, don’t have that gland, but instead have this other stuff all over their nervous system which senses and interacts with, ehh… stuff in the air. (…I think I might need to study my biology book before going back to school… nah.)

But anyway, zebras—zebras actually have the same kind of gland that unicorn ponies do, but it’s bigger and tied all throughout the brain, rather than being all bundled up in itself. This lets zebras do… the thing zebras do. Uhhh… geomancy. (Yay, I remembered one!) Basically, the thing Zecora was doing to keep the Everfree forest from eating her hut. It’s some sort of direct communication with the forces of nature or something. And apparently it doesn’t work in Ponyville—which is why she was living out there instead.

Enough boring stuff. Want to know something really interesting? Zebras don’t have cutie marks! They tattoo their flanks in the same place, and for the same reasons—but for them, it actually stays, instead of fading away. I asked miss Pinkamina if she could try to look at the zebra mare’s blood, or skin, or something, to figure out if there was a way to make that work for me… but she said it was a genetic thing. She also said I shouldn’t worry so much about my cutie mark if I’m already doing things I enjoy—which I guess is what she does, so it’s okay advice. Still a cool thought, though; maybe in 20 or 30 years, ponies will be able to have whatever cutie mark they want? (Oh Celles, now I can’t decide if I’m cool or nerdy! …if I have the choice, I may as well be cool~)

lord-tristan asked:

Out of morbid curiosity, was it a mare or a stallion that you brought home recently?

Oh, you mean Quake? Uh… all of the above. Miss Pinkamina looked really frustrated, so I wanted to give her somepony she could play with however she liked. So I skipped down the list a few entries, and found… hir.

scoot-scootaloo asked:

Oh hello scootaloo! I'm you from another universe I guess. I have been reading your posts and I cant believe that you're me....

Hi! Is it that you can’t believe you’d be okay with what miss Pinkamina does? I think some different things just happened to me, to, uh, prepare me for this. Me a year ago would be disgusted by me now, I think. (Me now thinks I’m awesome, of course.)

Or is it because we talk differently? Your fault for not reading books~ (though I admit, I never would have started myself if I hadn’t had absolutely nothing else to do…)

roboshi asked:

So then where DO you keep that tannery? I mean leather doesn't make itself.

We don’t tan pony hides ourselves, as much as that sounds like something miss Pinkamina would enjoy doing. There’s this little shop in Trottingham that will take any animal pelt and produce whatever sort of leather accessories you want from it, with very few questions asked.

Of course, we try to only give them unidentifiable cuts, as much for their safety as our own. One time, we accidentally gave them something with a cutie mark on it… I had to sneak in and steal it back before they got to it.

thedeedeedee asked:

I like to have closure. Could you probably ask Pinkamina while she's contemplating on her bed on How'd Zecora passed on? And also, Could you Describe how you first taste of pony meat tasted like? Describe the Texture, Flavors, Did it melt in your mouth, and any subtle flavors. I'm Very Intrigued by all you posts Scoots, may i call you Scoots? Also Was Gilda on the ASAP List. With Love -Dee

Miss Pinkamina says—though really, it sometimes feels like I’m her PR pony; she has her own inbox too, you know—that she tried to put something in Zecora’s tea as well, like we did with Ajali. But it didn’t affect her at all. (I guess, since they were at her hut, she was attuned to the environment or something.) So miss Pinkamina, uh…

she talked Zecora into having sex with her. And then, gradually, (I’m skipping a lot of details with that “gradually”) she convinced Zecora to let herself be tied up. Once she was strapped down, she just took a knife from the wall, hacked her apart, and left.

My first taste of pony meat was… um, it wasn’t cooked, so I didn’t really like the taste or texture. It was on my birthday, actually. Miss Pinkamina had just finished with a victim, and came into my room with this little dinner plate with warm organ-meats on it. She set it down, and asked whether I would like to try a bit of it. I asked her why—she said that she usually eats these tender parts of a victim right away, but she wanted to… uh, honor me or something, by giving me the opportunity to go first. So I took a blob of something at random and stuck it in my mouth.

Took a lot of effort to get it down. But then miss Pinkamina smiled at me after, which she wasn’t really doing much yet at the time, so it was worth it.

For my name, um, I’d appreciate if you didn’t drop the “lu” part. It’s important to me. Actually, if you really need to abbreviate it, you can just call me “Lu.” But I don’t know why you’d be in that much of a hurry.

And Gilda (the griffon one, right?) died a year ago, somewhere far up north. It was a thing. Rainbow Dash tried to get ponies to go to her funeral, but nopony wanted to…

She never thought to invite me. I would have gone with her.

Soooo...

((OOC: That’s it! Schrödinger’s Pegasus is done. Over! Kaput!

Anyway: what did you all think of it? Right amount of romance, drama, tragedy, silliness? Too long, too short, too much random crap/not enough pony? Too much Twilight Sparkle? (There is no such thing as too much Twilight Sparkle)

I’m not going to ask whether there was too much Pinkamina Floyd, because I had too much fun with that to stop. I won’t do it again, though.

But otherwise: comments, please?))

So... did Celestia just kind of... rebooted the entire universe there? Does that means Fluttershy is alive again? I'm not quiiiiite sure what happened, aside from Celestia aparently mind wiping all of the mane six (or should I say five) with the exception of Twilight (and Scootaloo aparently).

((OOC: Celestia mindwiped everypony she could get her hands on. Twilight resisted. Scootaloo was immune. Then, Luna rebooted the universe.

To be more technical, the universe was already split in two at the point where Fluttershy either lived or died. (The universe branches automatically when protagonism transfers between hosts. Fluttershy’s death caused the universe’s protagonist to branch from Pinkamina to Scootaloo.) Luna simply took the Scootaloo (and Twilight—and one other pony I haven’t gotten to yet) and overwrote the minds of their #fluttershy-is-alive timeline versions with those of their #fluttershy-is-dead counterparts. Then she collapsed the #fluttershy-is-dead timeline (so it looked like the universe ended from her own perspective, existing as a part of that timeline.)

Also, she somehow gave #fluttershy-is-alive’s Scootaloo a pair of socks. Don’t forget that.))

Hey Scootaloo, I heard that Celestia brought Fluttershy back from the dead, does that means that you and Miss Pinkamina isn't going to be prossecuted for having killed her in the first place?

But, it was Luna who…

oh, you mean this Fluttershy. Turns out she was somepony else. (I still like her, though; I don’t care who she is. Ponies should still talk to her.)

Seeing as Berry Punch can get away with far more drunken debauchery and still have her daughter, you're probably safe from the eye of Foal Services. Besides, if they were watching Miss Pinkamena's tumblr, they'd probably have much more to question besides some insobriety.

Geez, I should probably have answered this one sooner… though, you know, I did mention she was dead a while ago (even if it was in the middle of something most of you might have skipped over…)

((that was a mean trick celestia played. while she may have planned to stop before any permanent harm was done to scoots, how would scoots know this? being force chocked by your god is the kind of thing that leads to major emotional issues later in life. also, nice work.))

((Yes. Yes it does. Apostasy is a good word.))

nice to see they let you use tumblr wile captivity : D

I… what did everypony else see? I posted stuff, then got taken to Canterlot, then, er, came back, then posted more stuff. I didn’t post anything while I was gone…

…did I?

#fluttershy-is-dead I'm confused by your story (assuming you can update this from jail, but oh well. i'll ask anyway). the wire trap you mentioned that killed the royal guard - how does it work? he'd have to be moving pretty fast to get completely decapitated in one slice, and I really doubt if just walking would even break the skin. was it spring-loaded, as that's the only way I can think it could work?

((Yes. It’s, y’know, one of these things. Pinkamina would probably just build it as two non-obvious rails with little explosive propellant charges at one end, rather than anything requiring complicated physics.))

typeandprint asked:

I do not believe in Coincidence, Scootaloo. I will be having a word with Pinkamena, then. I must know why my counterpart died. For clop's sake, I can slay a dragon, but I let PINKIE kill me!?

((Luna removed you from existence to prevent a temporal paradox. Lesson: don’t read weird scrolls inside divergences.))

Ah, so that means Fluttershy is indeed alive now, very clever plot! Now I understand the Schroedinger reference you threw earlier. But now the question becomes, what will happen to the other blogs? I assume that you're the same person who does AskPinkamenaDianePie and the recent ScootalooTheSadist (not to mention probably AskFluttershyPie, though now aparently revealed to be a unicorn, possibly the other pony that wasn't mind wiped?).

((Ahaaaaahahahahaha. Ha. I am not CrookedTrees. Nor am I those other people. I just read their stuff, and then write my stuff.

I have no idea what they’re going to do in response to Schrödinger’s Pegasus, though the (highly) probable answer is “absolutely diddly-squat.”))

which blog do you think fits more into miss pinkamena's story yours or scootaloo the sadist

((Definitely the other guy. Trees said so himself.))

saethwrthedragon asked:

I think I speak for quite a few ponies when I say I'm glad you and Pinkamina are doing ok. There is a bond between you two that is rare and powerful. Keep looking after her and just remind her she has a ton of friends here.

Thanks. I… I was kind of worried that she, would, y’know, stop caring about me when things got bad… it seems like that’s always what happens… but then she, uh, in the corridor…

She doesn’t remember it, but I do. This time, I’ll make her say it for real.

askskyarcher asked:

Scootaloo, are you coming back to school soon? Everypony's getting worried about you.

OH MY WHAT

“Miss Pinkamina! Miss Pinkamina! Did I… did school start, um, sometime in the last week?”

“Ugh. Uh, morning, Scootaloo. Yeah. I tried to tell you, like, three times. You just seemed to space out and not hear me. I figured there was something bad about your school you didn’t want to think about, so I left you alone about it after that.”

“Uh… sure. Yeah. But… I need to go.”

“It’s Tuesday; don’t you want to wait for-“

Now.

“Don’t you need to go shopping first, get supplies and–”

“Nownownownownwnownownowo–”

> Scootaloo: Okay, go to school already.