13 Days of Darkstar: Cutie Marked Part 1
Aww, yeah, ponies!
Cutie Marked
Part 1
He was the first born.
It would be the last time he was first at anything between them and he doesn’t even remember it.
It was a rainy fall morning in Cloudsdale when the little colt came into the world. Small, grey, and scruffy, the little fellow wasn’t much to look at. His mane and tail were the color of pale straw and they were uneven. His wings were a little too small in places and his coat was a tad uneven, but all in all, everything was where it should be, and his parents paid it no mind, certain that he would grow into himself sooner or later.
His brother, on the other hand, was a perfect picture of symmetry. Large blue eyes, silky mane and tail and a rich, full coat of rich gold fur. His wings were perfectly sized for flying and he flapped them tentatively as soon as he was able. Within an hour, the second colt was up and walking all over the clouds, watching other pegasi and fluttering his own small wings in anticipation. He whinnied loudly and rubbed up against his parents’ cutie marked flanks.
The first was quiet and watched, his own faded blue eyes trying to take in everything. When he tried to stand on his own unsteady legs, he tumbled down unceremoniously, but he tried again and again...and again. Eventually, on the thirty seventh try, he was able to stand and take his first...very careful steps.
There was little doubt why the second was given the name of Luckystar.
By comparison, Darkstar seemed like a name suited better to the first.
As the colts grew older and they began to socialize, it became apparent that Luckystar had a sociable knack that his brother lacked. Lucky, it seemed, could get along with every pony. He could laugh, make jokes, and bring up subjects of conversation that every other colt in Cloudsdale wanted to be part of.
Darkstar could only watch and nod, hardly able to get a word in edgewise, which frustrated him to no end. Without meaning to, he developed a reputation for being “the quiet one” and thus, the one everyone kept a sideways glance on.
Despite being older, he was always smaller than Lucky, a weaker flyer, and socially awkward. Darkstar was easily frustrated with others and preferred to spend his time alone, walking along cloud banks while the other colts soared above him in races and physical competitions he could not hope to even place in.
Luckystar did not intentionally exclude his brother, he just didn’t seem to want to wait for him, or even notice that the other twin was being left behind. It just seemed to happen that way since Luckystar was the fastest flyer in their age group.
Lucky was also the first in their flight class to get his cutie mark. It was a large star surrounded by smaller ones. It suited him perfectly since everyone seemed to think that he was not only the luckiest, but the brightest star in the class.
Darkstar looked at his own blank flank, but wasn’t terribly concerned. None of the other colts had their cutie marks yet and somebody had to be the first to get it. It only seemed natural it would be Luckystar. However, as one by one, the others all received their cutie marks...Darkstar’s flank was left frustratingly blank.
In fact, his flank remained so even until young adulthood.
As time went on, other colts began to whisper, then loudly broadcast their views on the issue.
“Now we see why he’s called Luckystar...he got all the luck!”
“First one born, last one at everything else!”
“Lucky is lucky he’s not you!”
Upon hearing an incessant deluge of insults over a period of months, one afternoon, Darkstar left the flight school with a strange finality and returned home, where he buried his head under a blanket and fell asleep without talking to anyone. When he awoke the next morning, he found that his cutie mark had appeared in the night. Except...he wasn’t entirely sure what it was. Typical. His special moments seemed to happen when no one was watching...not even himself.
His parents were ecstatic. They didn’t seem to care what it was, though his mother did try to figure it out. Some of her guesses may have been unintentionally thoughtless.
“A stone? No. A skull? No. A burned cupcake? No. A treasure map? No. A pressed bit? No. A warped frying pan? No. A puddle? No! That isn’t it either!”
It was Luckystar, naturally, who deduced the cutie mark’s identity.
“It is a mask, Darkstar. Your cutie mark is a mask,”
Darkstar looked over his flank and what had seemed so mysterious before really was exactly what Lucky said it was, though why his cutie mark was a mask was beyond his understanding.
His mother, an elegant pegasus as always, gave her mane a gentle toss.
“A mask, Darkstar? Have you been keeping something from us? Perhaps you are a great masquerade costume designer and have been keeping your talents all to yourself,” she offered.
Darkstar merely shook his head.
“No, nothing like that...I...I don’t know why it is a mask,” he answered honestly.
Luckystar roughly bumped his shoulder against his brother.
“Who cares? What matters is that you have a cutie mark and aren’t a blank flanked freak anymore,” he exclaimed.
“Luckystar!” their mother hissed harshly.
There was suddenly an uncomfortable, heavy silence in the cloud house.
Darkstar swallowed an impossibly large lump in is throat before asking:
“Is...is that what you all thought about me? What you all said behind my back?”
“No, of course not! Lucky, apologize to your brother for your language this instant!” their mother demanded, clopping one hoof sternly. She flicked her tail at the golden pegasus in an attempt to spur him into action.
“What? He was? Everyone was always saying it,” Luckystar said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Not in this house, they weren’t!”
“It’s okay. I’m going out. I’ll be back later. I’m...going to show off my cutie mark,” Darkstar lied before heading out the door before anyone could stop him.
He wasn’t the strongest flyer in Cloudsdale...but he had picked up a few tricks from watching the others and practicing ad nauseum in private. Without even thinking, he flew down, down, down, until he in a clearing of a dense forest. As soon as his hooves touched the ground, he ran deeper into the trees until his legs were too tired to carry him any further. He glared at the image emblazoned on his flank and screamed in rage at no one in particular:
“IT ISN’T FAIR! I WORK HARDER THAN ANYONE ELSE AT EVERYTHING...AND..AND I GET THIS FOR A CUTIE MARK? AFTER EVERYONE ELSE HAS THEIRS? FOR YEARS? I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY I HAVE THIS FOR A CUTIE MARK! IT ISN’T FAIR!”
“I think it is a cute cutie mark,”
Darkstar started at the unknown voice and spun around to face whoever or whatever was addressing him.
“Who are you?” he demanded, before he saw that his possible assailant was a pink unicorn filly with a tiara and a shockingly white mane and tail. She blinked her violet eyes slowly, showing off her thick lashes. Darkstar noticed that her cutie mark was a kind of bag with a rather unsettling toothy grin. Her horn glowed before emitting a small firework that exploded into a pink heart.
“Why, I’m Charmcaster, sugar cube, and I have a bag of tricks up my proverbial sleeve,”
Cutie Marked
Part 1
He was the first born.
It would be the last time he was first at anything between them and he doesn’t even remember it.
It was a rainy fall morning in Cloudsdale when the little colt came into the world. Small, grey, and scruffy, the little fellow wasn’t much to look at. His mane and tail were the color of pale straw and they were uneven. His wings were a little too small in places and his coat was a tad uneven, but all in all, everything was where it should be, and his parents paid it no mind, certain that he would grow into himself sooner or later.
His brother, on the other hand, was a perfect picture of symmetry. Large blue eyes, silky mane and tail and a rich, full coat of rich gold fur. His wings were perfectly sized for flying and he flapped them tentatively as soon as he was able. Within an hour, the second colt was up and walking all over the clouds, watching other pegasi and fluttering his own small wings in anticipation. He whinnied loudly and rubbed up against his parents’ cutie marked flanks.
The first was quiet and watched, his own faded blue eyes trying to take in everything. When he tried to stand on his own unsteady legs, he tumbled down unceremoniously, but he tried again and again...and again. Eventually, on the thirty seventh try, he was able to stand and take his first...very careful steps.
There was little doubt why the second was given the name of Luckystar.
By comparison, Darkstar seemed like a name suited better to the first.
As the colts grew older and they began to socialize, it became apparent that Luckystar had a sociable knack that his brother lacked. Lucky, it seemed, could get along with every pony. He could laugh, make jokes, and bring up subjects of conversation that every other colt in Cloudsdale wanted to be part of.
Darkstar could only watch and nod, hardly able to get a word in edgewise, which frustrated him to no end. Without meaning to, he developed a reputation for being “the quiet one” and thus, the one everyone kept a sideways glance on.
Despite being older, he was always smaller than Lucky, a weaker flyer, and socially awkward. Darkstar was easily frustrated with others and preferred to spend his time alone, walking along cloud banks while the other colts soared above him in races and physical competitions he could not hope to even place in.
Luckystar did not intentionally exclude his brother, he just didn’t seem to want to wait for him, or even notice that the other twin was being left behind. It just seemed to happen that way since Luckystar was the fastest flyer in their age group.
Lucky was also the first in their flight class to get his cutie mark. It was a large star surrounded by smaller ones. It suited him perfectly since everyone seemed to think that he was not only the luckiest, but the brightest star in the class.
Darkstar looked at his own blank flank, but wasn’t terribly concerned. None of the other colts had their cutie marks yet and somebody had to be the first to get it. It only seemed natural it would be Luckystar. However, as one by one, the others all received their cutie marks...Darkstar’s flank was left frustratingly blank.
In fact, his flank remained so even until young adulthood.
As time went on, other colts began to whisper, then loudly broadcast their views on the issue.
“Now we see why he’s called Luckystar...he got all the luck!”
“First one born, last one at everything else!”
“Lucky is lucky he’s not you!”
Upon hearing an incessant deluge of insults over a period of months, one afternoon, Darkstar left the flight school with a strange finality and returned home, where he buried his head under a blanket and fell asleep without talking to anyone. When he awoke the next morning, he found that his cutie mark had appeared in the night. Except...he wasn’t entirely sure what it was. Typical. His special moments seemed to happen when no one was watching...not even himself.
His parents were ecstatic. They didn’t seem to care what it was, though his mother did try to figure it out. Some of her guesses may have been unintentionally thoughtless.
“A stone? No. A skull? No. A burned cupcake? No. A treasure map? No. A pressed bit? No. A warped frying pan? No. A puddle? No! That isn’t it either!”
It was Luckystar, naturally, who deduced the cutie mark’s identity.
“It is a mask, Darkstar. Your cutie mark is a mask,”
Darkstar looked over his flank and what had seemed so mysterious before really was exactly what Lucky said it was, though why his cutie mark was a mask was beyond his understanding.
His mother, an elegant pegasus as always, gave her mane a gentle toss.
“A mask, Darkstar? Have you been keeping something from us? Perhaps you are a great masquerade costume designer and have been keeping your talents all to yourself,” she offered.
Darkstar merely shook his head.
“No, nothing like that...I...I don’t know why it is a mask,” he answered honestly.
Luckystar roughly bumped his shoulder against his brother.
“Who cares? What matters is that you have a cutie mark and aren’t a blank flanked freak anymore,” he exclaimed.
“Luckystar!” their mother hissed harshly.
There was suddenly an uncomfortable, heavy silence in the cloud house.
Darkstar swallowed an impossibly large lump in is throat before asking:
“Is...is that what you all thought about me? What you all said behind my back?”
“No, of course not! Lucky, apologize to your brother for your language this instant!” their mother demanded, clopping one hoof sternly. She flicked her tail at the golden pegasus in an attempt to spur him into action.
“What? He was? Everyone was always saying it,” Luckystar said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Not in this house, they weren’t!”
“It’s okay. I’m going out. I’ll be back later. I’m...going to show off my cutie mark,” Darkstar lied before heading out the door before anyone could stop him.
He wasn’t the strongest flyer in Cloudsdale...but he had picked up a few tricks from watching the others and practicing ad nauseum in private. Without even thinking, he flew down, down, down, until he in a clearing of a dense forest. As soon as his hooves touched the ground, he ran deeper into the trees until his legs were too tired to carry him any further. He glared at the image emblazoned on his flank and screamed in rage at no one in particular:
“IT ISN’T FAIR! I WORK HARDER THAN ANYONE ELSE AT EVERYTHING...AND..AND I GET THIS FOR A CUTIE MARK? AFTER EVERYONE ELSE HAS THEIRS? FOR YEARS? I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY I HAVE THIS FOR A CUTIE MARK! IT ISN’T FAIR!”
“I think it is a cute cutie mark,”
Darkstar started at the unknown voice and spun around to face whoever or whatever was addressing him.
“Who are you?” he demanded, before he saw that his possible assailant was a pink unicorn filly with a tiara and a shockingly white mane and tail. She blinked her violet eyes slowly, showing off her thick lashes. Darkstar noticed that her cutie mark was a kind of bag with a rather unsettling toothy grin. Her horn glowed before emitting a small firework that exploded into a pink heart.
“Why, I’m Charmcaster, sugar cube, and I have a bag of tricks up my proverbial sleeve,”