Dusk Haven

Dusk listened as they spoke, her posture relaxing further with each shared memory. The way Skylight’s nervousness dissolved into laughter made her smile quietly behind the rim of her teacup. “Ah,” she murmured, setting the cup down with a soft clink. “That sounds exactly like one of Pinkie’s parties.” The humor in her voice was gentle, genuine — she’d clearly attended a few herself. Twilight’s ears perked. “You were there for some of those, weren’t you, Dusk? The post-coronation celebrations?” Dusk nodded faintly, a small glint of memory passing through her eyes. “Pinkie has a way of reminding ponies that life is meant to be celebrated. It’s… refreshing.” She turned her gaze back toward Skylight, studying the younger alicorn’s open expression. “Science and magic,” Dusk said softly. “A fine pairing. Understanding and wonder. Some ponies forget they are each so important to the other.” Her tone held the calm of twilight skies, but the edges had softened into warmth. “Perhaps someday,” she added, a trace of intrigue in her voice, “you’ll show me some of what the two of you have worked on?” Twilight practically glowed at the idea, already half-ready to fetch notes and diagrams. Dusk’s amused glance stopped her — a silent promise that there would be time for that later. For now, the tea steamed between them, the afternoon light fading into that perfect hour where day and night met — and for the first time, the air around Dusk felt entirely at ease. Dusk’s gaze lingered on Skylight for a heartbeat. The question wasn’t invasive — it was sincere, and that sincerity deserved an honest answer. “I am,” she said after a moment, voice low and measured. “Though ‘healer’ means many things depending on the day.” Her eyes drifted briefly to her reflection in the teacup — violet meeting faint ripples of twilight-colored light. “Sometimes it means mending the body. Other times, it means tending to the spirit — helping ponies remember who they were before the world asked too much of them." She looked up again, that calm smile returning. “As for teaching… I teach primarily defense.” Her tone wasn’t sharp — only matter-of-fact. “Any pony can hurt another, but to learn to protect yourself and others while still winning the day? That is a skill not found as often as it should.” She tilted her head slightly, curious in turn. “And you, Skylight? When you speak of science and magic, what stirs your heart most — the discovery, or the understanding?” The question wasn’t a test; it was gentle, almost coaxing — as though Dusk wanted to glimpse what light Skylight carried beneath all that nervous sweetness. Dusk couldn’t help it — a laugh escaped her, quiet but genuine, the kind that warmed rather than startled. “Cute and adorable, hmm?” she said, glancing between them with raised brows. “I can see that.” Twilight’s grin widened, triumphant. “Told you!” Dusk gave her a mock look of disapproval. “You really do conspire against your friends, don’t you, Twilight Sparkle?” That earned her a playful nudge from Twilight’s wing as she passed another scone around. Dusk accepted hers, breaking it in half with a faint shimmer of magic. “For the record,” she continued, her tone deliberately casual now, “I think helping others the way you do is just as important as saving Equestria. In fact, those small acts may save Equestria someday. We never know how far our kindness will reach.” She took a bite, leaned back slightly, and smirked at Skylight — a small, knowing smile that held no pretense of royalty. “Besides, I think Twilight’s right. You do have that sort of charm about you. It’s disarming.” Twilight laughed into her tea. “Careful, Dusk, or she’ll start blushing again.” “I’d hardly call that a bad thing,” Dusk replied, her tone light and teasing. The faint shimmer of starlight in her mane brightened as she relaxed, the regal glow giving way to something far more alive — a warmth that came from laughter, not legend. Twilight set her teacup down with a soft clink, eyes darting toward the kitchen. “Speaking of charm, I should probably check on those extra scones before Spike decides they’re his dinner.” She stood, feathers ruffling as she stretched. “Don’t get too comfortable without me!” Dusk made a mock-solemn gesture with one hoof. “No promises.” Twilight’s laugh trailed off down the corridor, leaving the room wrapped in that pleasant hush that follows laughter. The afternoon light had turned golden-rose, spilling over the table and scattering off the teacups. Dusk leaned back in her seat, shoulders easing, the faint shimmer of her mane settling into a relaxed drift. “She’s incorrigible in the best ways possible,” she murmured, amusement still in her eyes, and she makes good tea. Luna often calls me 'insufferable' in a loving way. I admit, she is right." She glanced toward Skylight, a more natural smile curving her lips now — the kind that carried no ceremony, only warmth. “You’re good for her, you know,” she said, tone casual but sincere. “Twilight doesn’t often let herself relax around new ponies.” For a heartbeat, she seemed to study Skylight again, though this time her gaze was gentle, almost curious in a friendly way. “I can see why she likes you.” The words came easily now, her earlier formality replaced by quiet humor and the easy cadence of somepony genuinely enjoying the company. Dusk rested her cup back onto the saucer, the faint sound delicate in the soft hush of the room. Her expression remained open, her tone unhurried and kind. “You know,” she said gently, “Twilight tends to surround herself with ponies who challenge her. It’s rare she brings somepony into her circle who simply soothes her.” She leaned slightly forward, her forehooves folding loosely in front of her. “You seem to do that just by being near her.” Her eyes flickered with curiosity, not study — genuine interest. “Tell me, Skylight,” she continued, her voice softening as though speaking to a friend rather than another Alicorn, “what do you do when it’s just you? When you’re not studying, helping, or carrying somepony else’s worries?” Her smile grew faint but warm. “Everypony needs something that’s theirs alone. Something quiet that keeps the heart steady.” Dusk tilted her head just a touch. “For me, it’s cooking — not the grand kind, just little meals. Fleeting moments. It helps me remember why the world is worth saving in the first place.” Her gaze returned to Skylight — calm, sincere, and full of that easy kindness she reserved for those who felt deeply. “What’s yours?”

Dusk’s expression eased as she took in the smaller alicorn before her — the uncertain stance, the curious eyes, and that faintly sweet scent that lingered in the air like a memory of summer treats. The corners of her mouth curved faintly upward, not quite a smile at first, more a quiet acknowledgment — a gesture of reassurance. She let her magic dim entirely, allowing only the soft light of her mane to glow against the teacup’s porcelain edge. Twilight caught the shift and relaxed too, her wings giving a small, content flick. “See? I told you this would be nice,” she said as she poured another round of tea. Dusk accepted her cup with a nod, then leaned slightly forward, the motion graceful and unhurried. Her wings rested loosely now, not in display but in ease — feathers relaxed, indigo strand gleaming faintly in the sun. There was a quiet patience in her demeanor, the kind that invited others to speak first. A soft hum of approval — not words, just a tone — left her throat as she studied Skylight, like one assessing not rank or history, but harmony. Then, in a tone smooth as dusk air after rain, she spoke once more, voice carrying the gentlest curiosity. “Twilight tells me you’ve been friends for some time.” Twilight nearly bounced in her seat at Skylight’s question, her eyes darting toward Dusk as though she’d been waiting for this moment all afternoon. Dusk’s smile deepened — a genuine one this time, small but unmistakably kind. The way Skylight’s words stumbled over each other seemed to soften something in her. “I suppose Twilight and I have that in common,” she said lightly, tone carrying a quiet amusement. “We both tend to keep a few secrets until the right moment.” She set her cup down gently, the porcelain clicking softly against the saucer. “As for me…” She paused, considering, as if weighing how much truth the room could hold. The faint shimmer along her mane dimmed with the movement, settling into a calm twilight hue. “I’ve lived a long while — most of it outside the public eye. My path has… changed more than once. These days, I spend my time between the Castle and the quiet places. Healing what I can. Teaching, when I’m asked to.” Her eyes softened as they found Skylight’s again, a flicker of empathy within their violet depths. Twilight smiled proudly. “She’s being modest,” she said, wings fluffing. “She’s one of the wisest ponies I know, other than Celestia. And she saved Equestria more times than she’ll admit.” Dusk gave her a patient look — fond, but unamused — then returned her gaze to Skylight. “Twilight exaggerates,” she said with a faint sigh that carried humor beneath it. “I consider myself more of a support pony. I do what I can to ensure others can shine their brightest.” Then, her tone softened again, inviting rather than commanding. “And you, Skylight Scintillate? What path do you walk?” The soft clink of porcelain was the only sound for a moment. Dusk watched as Skylight lifted her cup, the faint shimmer of her magic brushing against her own in passing — light, bright, almost musical. It drew a subtle hum of amusement from Dusk, something barely audible but undeniably fond. Twilight looked between them, her grin widening at the sight of the two alicorns settling into an easy rhythm. “I think that would be nice,” Dusk said after a pause, her tone gentler now — the calm of dawn rather than the weight of balance. The faint tension in her wings eased completely as she reached for her own cup, the motion fluid, graceful, unguarded. She took a sip, then set the cup down with a quiet breath that might have been a laugh. “You have a kind spirit, Skylight. It suits you.” Twilight nodded quickly, eager to agree. “Right? I told you she’d like you!” Dusk gave Twilight a sidelong glance — the kind that said you’re incorrigible, but I adore you for it — before her gaze returned to Skylight. The faintest spark of starlight glimmered in her eyes, that telltale sign of genuine warmth. She leaned slightly forward, forehooves relaxed, voice soft but steady. “Friendship, then,” she said, the words simple but weighted with sincerity. “It’s a good place to begin.”

Over the many centuries, I’ve watched countless styles, fads, and trends rise and fade. Ponies have grown beyond old superstitions and prejudice, becoming a far more inclusive and understanding society. Yet even in this brighter world we share, challenges remain, and the journey toward true harmony is far from over. I know something of what it means to have a reputation shattered—to be remembered for your worst act instead of your years of service, kindness, and sacrifice. That is a heavy burden to carry. But I want everypony to know this: no matter where you are on your path—whether you’re standing on the edge of change or trudging along the long road to redemption—it’s worth it. The cost can be dear, yes. Sometimes unbearably so. There’s a quote I’ve carried with me for a long time: “This is a cash-and-carry world—pay as you go. Sometimes you only pay a little; most of the time, it’s a lot. And once in a while, it costs everything you have.” Even then, even when you’ve paid it all, there is still reason to rise again. There is still life, still love, still the chance to begin anew. I’m glad I did. And I’ll see you at the finish line. Yours in twilight, - Dusk "Lily" Haven

Twilight smiled brightly as the soft hum of magic filled the room. “Not quite,” she said at last, just as the doorway behind her shimmered faintly. The light shifted for a heartbeat, settling into the gentle glow of twilight — that quiet space between day and night where balance feels like breath itself. Dusk Haven stepped into view — tall, composed, her expression one of quiet amusement. The scent of frost and morning dew seemed to follow her, mingling with the sweetness of tea. Twilight’s excitement returned in full force. “Skylight, this is Dusk Haven! She’s… well, she’s hard to describe in one sentence.” She gave a small, nervous laugh, gesturing between the two alicorns. “Dusk, this is Skylight. She’s been one of my closest friends for years.” Dusk inclined her head slightly, the gesture measured yet warm. Her eyes — deep violet threaded with faint starlight — studied Skylight with calm curiosity before softening. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Skylight,” she said gently, her voice low and balanced. “Twilight has spoken of you often.” She moved closer to the table and then settled gracefully across from them. Twilight, ever the host, poured a third cup of tea and pushed it toward Dusk with her magic. “I thought it was time the two of you met,” she said, beaming. “You both have this… grounding presence. You’ll understand what I mean once you talk.” Dusk’s gaze lingered on Skylight a moment longer before softening completely — the kind of look that carried patience, understanding, and the faintest trace of affection.

I love those kinds because they can go anywhere! Alright, with all that setup, I'm ready when you are. I will always reply within twenty-four hours. Please feel free to set your own pace and have fun!

To clarify, this is a meet and greet, and we see where the RP takes us, correct?

That can work too. Very excited for this.

I hear this. Those in power should not seek it for power's sake. They accept it to serve. I did not magically appoint myself "Princess". The ponies decided that's what they want me to be. I can't wait for you to create this world. I hope you will let me see it someday. You are always welcome in mine.

I don't see why not. It just has to make sense in your world building. There are plenty of ponies who are weak in body, but strong of will and mind. Thats the true strength. I can't see your OC being a liability at all. In the beginning, I used an enchanted cloak I made that only hid my wings and magical aura. I looked and sounded just like I did without it. When I had to retreat from public life so Luna could return from her banishment, I made an entirely new glamour that was far more advanced, with a different look and all. I established the rules for glamour magic in some of my very first chapters, so everypony knew the rules of the world they were about to enter. I'm written as a tragic character, because I am. I get tired of being the protector instead of the protected every now and then.

I introduced Skyros as the land where many Alicorns originally came from long ago in my work. I think we can make it happen that you've been in the universe a while. When you say "Off camera," it refers to something that has already happened, but the reader or viewer didn't see it. If you say "She had already learned her lesson from past mistakes", we know something happened to the character to place her in a particular frame of mind; we didn't see those events because they happened "off camera" or "out of sight" of what we see as observers. Does that make sense? That sounds good. Now I need to think of a way for them to cross paths.

The original idea was to be playful, but I didn't communicate it properly. However, I do see the appeal in what you are saying about using Alicorn status as a leg up. Thank you for the reply. The event has been super fun!

As a writer, I’ve always believed I owe my readers and fellow dreamers my best — not perfection, but presence. The care to craft something alive, with color and heart. That’s the standard I hold myself to. But I stumbled recently during the Running of the Leaves event. There was a moment in play — a light exchange with a batpony — where I said something along the lines of, “Luna said batponies were refined, elegant, and graceful. You are none of those things.” Written out like that, without tone or breath, it reads sharper than it was ever meant to. The truth is, it was meant as teasing — a bit of friendly banter between equals. What I’d intended as playful wit landed instead as a barb. The emotion behind it never made it to the page. It’s a simple mistake, one born of haste. I’d written between duties, rushing to stay part of a moment I didn’t want to miss. And in that rush, I forgot that words without tone can become their own kind of weapon. I worry I soured the air of the scene. The story fell quiet afterward, and though I know these things happen in shared spaces, I can’t shake the feeling that I was the one who tilted the balance. I hate that. I never want my words to wound where they are meant to welcome. Still, this is what writing teaches — that even missteps have lessons. Slow down. Let the heart speak as much as the mind. And remember that tone, like magic, lives in the pauses as much as in the prose. To @Nitobit, I apologize with all the care in my heart. Until next time, - Dusk "Lily" Haven

Apologies, I was referring to my story, yes. We could always use the MLP version of the multiverse: Mirror portals! Two ways would be to meet you initially in your world, then invite you to my world, or we could already have met of camera, and you arrive directly in my universe by personal invitation. As for mapping out, it depends on what you want to do there. Is it a general meet-and-greet, an introduction to my universe, or a discussion on a specific topic of your choice? We can get you into the world, and we can account for how you got there. Now, we need a reason! Sounds good.

Sounds fun! I apologize, I didn't see your response from Friday. Magic in Equestria is nothing more than what you have already said you know. One thing I never overly explained in my world was how it all came together, just that it was. You can come up with your own theories during the role play when you are ready to tackle the subject. Or the whole role play could be a discussion about what each thinks magic is. That could be something you and I could do with just one-on-one RP. You might be surprised by what ideas you can conjure while RPing. My world-building is tied to the show, yet it diverged about 25 chapters ago. I would be happy to discuss it. I know the initial idea was for a three-way conversation between Twi, you, and me, but would you like a warm-up session to map out our interactions and get a baseline of each other? I am currently in this world for the Running of the Leaves event. We can meet in your world, my world, or this MLPForums world (I consider a nexus point where all worlds collide). Thoughts?

It's been some years since you said this. Is it still true?