Copter was... a average colt, born in lagoon city to two kind parents, Star and Carry Weather. he was... nothing special to be honest. he did fine in gradeschool and was able to ace most of his tests without studying. he played with his two brothers and two sisters, and from oldest to youngest there was tears (like crying, not tearing), copter, dell, lagoon, and mini. all was fine for a while.
now for those that are... out of the loop most ponies have three states of clothing. there are naked, minimals, and full
the naked ponies normally use clothes only as a fashion/formal thing. the minimals have stuff like collars and cuffs, tophats and the like.. and the fulls have suits and dresses.
most ponies prefer to be naked, it is kind of the way things have been, but others dont. now most of utah as it is macaroni country thinks in terms of modesty. so everyone here wears clothes. we have farmland galaore but clothes seem to be the big ticket items. anywho i am getting off subject again..
now if you ask copters family, they would say that him going to.... me was because of deep inherent issues with his father figure about/before the time that puberty hit. i actually did assume that myself for a time but came to realise that it is not. so i will gloss over that as it is not important.
all that matters is that my fathe... i mean carry was not in my life around the time where i first started to feel the way i do because of something... not normal.
but again that is not really important.
copter was about 10 or so when he started to sneek into his sisters room. he always did it while she was out with friends or at school. he would blush and try on her clothes.. first as curiosity. some would say it is a perversion, that his was getting his jollys from it. but that was not the case..
the truth of the matter is copter had been hating himself... his body for a long time before then.
GAH... i guess i should start earlier than this... god this.. thinking and speaking thing is hard to do without some sort of story.. or even sure if there is a ending that i want... okay lets backtrack further....
copter was about 6 when his sister started to play dressup with him. he had been hating his body already due to...medical issues i wont say but he knew he was already diffrent. he could not tell you how, but he knew he was.
the reason he knew is because of how he acted in school... he was smart, like the girls, did not mind reading, like the girls.. but the most defining thing he saw was... he talked.. most of his school memorys was walking around the school with his.... then best friend and they would talk. just the two of them.. on any subject... it was only untill 3rd grade that the friend became a enemy because copter was "too boring, you only want to talk. i am going to go play sports with the other guys."
and after that we.. kept growing apart.. and thats how most of my friendships turned out... all i had was family to rely on.
gah! distracted again, sorry. lets see. oh yes, dressup.
now after not having friends for a bit his sister tears made sure copter was kept happy, tears played dolls with copter. back then i did not see a diffrence between my action figures and the Bakies my sister got for her birthday... albet the action figures did not have swappable clothes... but i digress. it was playing with my sister that i felt happy. with my brothers i felt worry that they would hurt me... dell was strong for his age and lagoon and mini were not born yet.
but tear she... she always made sure i was having fun. we played together for a while and i felt the pressure just... wash away.
back to the future. i was past the age of "cuteness" to play dressup.. my father had... left (only for a few years) and i was alone. i did not know what i wanted at that time.. maybe i still dont. but i knew i needed to feel whole again.
so i snuck into my sisters room and played dressup... it was all fine and dandy.... or so i thought
"COPTER TERRACE WEATHER? WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"
There is a blank screen on a computer, with a simple click of the mouse the computer lights up and a movie starts to play
a mare black coat with a red 7 pointed star cutiemark, about the age of 24 looks at the screen and brushes her brown mane out of her eyes. she seems restless as proven by her wings twitching to get more comfortable
"okay cake, you can do this... "she mumbles before smiling "hello everypony! i am cake and i am a transpony!"
the camera cuts to her rubbing her forehead in discust "nono stupid stupid stupid" she adjusts the camera "take two. ahem. GOOD MORNING VEITNAGGGG!... no one would get that refrence" the camera cuts again, the chair is empty and the mare is banging her head against the back wall
"take twelve. good afternoon fillies and gentlecolts, my name is cake and welcome to.. nono" the camera cuts again, the mare is not onscreen but offscreen the sound of anger/annoyance is heard through a scream of sorts
"take... i forgot. you know what, screw it. if it does not fit this time i wont bother, as no one will see this anyway." the mare sighs, adjusts her hair and looks at the camera "my name is cake, i am a mare.. i was not born as such... i used to be a stallion. these are.... sort of journals i guess? whatever. before i begin i want to explain where i am. not insomuch as you can find my street and house, but just a general... sense of sorts."
cake brushes the mane out of her eyes again and sighs
"i live in the providence of the most... not uber religious but very religious ponys. a group that calls themselves Latter Day Celestias but most people know them as macaronis. nicknamed after the book of macaroni the sort of.. secondary bible they have. it is... the staple of here of sorts. "
"now in the painted pony native equestrian providence, (nicknamed utah because of the ute tribe of native equestrians) most people would reconise big names like salt lick city, lagoon city, and St Gorge. if you dont know where those are you may want to find them on the map. because all my story revolves around those few spots and some others...
so i am cake, i am a mare, and this... is my story"
