No!
Who are you? Are you a spy!? Do you work for Celestia!? DO YOU!?
No!
Who are you? Are you a spy!? Do you work for Celestia!? DO YOU!?
Well, as you may or may not have missed, We are pregnant. Ponies have been questioning Us about how it has effected Our habits.
We do hope so. It has been delayed long enough.
We hope the prototype is duly impressive. We haven’t had a chance to see it yet Ourselves.
Avenger: Hay, yuh highness, can yuh order Arcel do tuh scary dangerous thingy t’ me?
…Can you possibly be more specific? We can think of several possibly meanings for ‘scary dangerous thingy’, many of which are very… conflicting.
*blinks* I can’t do that many scary or dangerous things… not that I am aware of…
Well, what do you think she means?
Well, We just survived an assassination attempt by an alien empire, and We have a formal dinner planned for later tonight. The usual stuff.
Avenger: Hay, yuh highness, can yuh order Arcel do tuh scary dangerous thingy t’ me?
…Can you possibly be more specific? We can think of several possibly meanings for ‘scary dangerous thingy’, many of which are very… conflicting.
A few, but We get strange food cravings even without pregnancy. What’s really annoying are the cramps, and the kicking.
We did mean unstable physically, but mentally may be the case as well. May We assume you are asking for some particular purpose?
*Philemon calls after him.*
Philemon: Oh, don’t ever worry about that! Feel free to take your frustrations out on me. I’m more of a projection of a fundamental force of the subconscious than any sort of living entity. You can no more kill me than kill an idea.
*Most of the explosion is contained within the rift and is sent harmlessly to the sun. A small portion, however, escapes the rift and blasts Nightmare Moon away, crashing into the wall. She lies dazed for a moment, while her regeneration pieces her bones back together.*