My dearest Quick n’ Colorful,
Once more I must open by protesting the use of these ridiculous pseudonyms, Rainbow, at least between the pair of us. The editorial nature of our correspondence is hardly something meriting such clandestine procedure, and even if it was I should imagine our identities are known as far as Canterlot by now, considering how loudly Twilight can screech.
(I TOLD you that such a graphic romance pairing her with Trixie was a bad idea!)
But I digress. I have just finished your latest foray into the world of literature, Daring Do and the Ring of Destiny. Understand firstly that it is in no way a bad work of fiction. It follows a proper character arc, contains solid grammatical structure, and your portrayal of Daring Do and the rest of us is marvelously spot on (with the exception of the scene wherein Daring battles three stallions all at once and we all just sit there watching like a doddering old sewing circle). By every standard that I would normally judge your work by, it is an excellent entry into your repertoire.
That said, I did not care for it.
Call it personal bias, darling, but self-insertion fan-creations have always struck me as rather arrogant, in that it takes the focus away from the titular hook and instead plays out as an escapist fantasy. Despite bearing her name at the head of it all, this story has Daring Do playing second fiddle to your own personal conflict, which defeats the purpose of it standing as an entry in the Daring cycle. Her name is what draws the reader in, and the reveal of yourself as the main character, the exploration of your drama over hers is ultimately a betrayal of the title’s promise. Don’t misunderstand me, Daring’s conflict as to accepting help where it is needed is present, though ultimately invalidated as we are never given a chance to truly explore it. Why does she shy away from companionship so readily, especially when one of the parties offering assistance is an immortal alicorn Deiarch? Why does she not take into account the weight of an artifact with which you’ve established she has previous experience with? Why must Daring pose as A.K. Yearling, and document her adventures from a secondhand account when ruffians such as Dr. Caballeron and Ahuizotl are actively terrorizing the very real populace and even attempting to usurp such fundamental realities as Celestia’s control over the sun?
(On a vainer note, I recall having just about three lines throughout the entire narrative! I beg your pardon, Rainbow Dash?)
Honestly, dear, as firm a grasp you have on the artistry of novelization, I feel that you did not put your best hoof forward for this exchange. The whole thing reads as a vainglorious fantasy better suited to wistful daydreaming and left me wearied after reading it. We’re all desperate to get our hooves on the next Daring installment, but as your own supplement to the canon wisely advises, one should not become so enamored with a subject that they let it color (or poison) their own work and judgment. By no means do I think you should cease in your endeavors to pen the great adventure story of our time, but the Daring cycle and its valiant heroine will never be the pièce de résistance of your body of work. I recommend you read some Mules Verne, he being considered one of the fathers of classical adventure fiction that gave rise to such gems we enjoy today.
In any case, I apologize for the bluntness of this letter, and hope I did not offend. I only wish to see you reach your fullest potential as a fellow artist.
Happily awaiting your reply and next story,
-Prism
Having reached the end of the flowing script, Fluttershy replaces the dripping letter where she found it: in the dirt. It is more of a kindness to the unfortunate parchment than one would think, all elevated surfaces in the area as soaked as the rest of Carousel Boutique and its proprietor, while any other patch of bare earth stood more akin to mud. It is all the work of the torrential downpour that still engulfs the circumference of Rarity’s home, on this bright, dry summer day in Ponyville.
Normally a Pegasus crew would have been dispatched to attend to the matter of errant weather patterns, however considering it in fact is not a rogue stormcloud but Rainbow Dash’s spiraling mansion venting every liquid from its plumbing onto the boutique, it falls under the classification of domestic disturbance, rather than weather control. Fluttershy turns to the sodden Rarity, her sea glass eyes vanishing for the briefest of moments as she blinks expectantly. The unicorn doesn’t meet her gaze, remaining fixed on a random point in space in belligerent defiance.
“Well?” huffs the fashionista, “What do you want me to say? You read the letter!”
“SEE HOW YOU LIKE IT WHEN SOMEPONY SPITS ALL OVER YOUR ART, RARITY!” Rainbow Dash bellows from atop the height of her billowing citadel, dispensing a lightning bolt onto the unicorn’s weather vane with a savage buck.
“She’s been talking about how excited she was to be finishing her manuscript for two weeks,” Fluttershy informs her beleaguered friend simply.
Rarity brushes a few thick strands of sopping violet mane out of her eye for the fourth time. “See, that sort information would have been useful to know beforehand.”
“PRISSY-” buck “-KNOW NOTHING-“ buck “-GENRE BIASED-” buck “-HACK!”
Buck.
“And you came to me because…?” Flutteshy asks.
Rarity shudders. “Consider the prospective result of one of the other members of our circle trying to reason with her, then ask me that again.”
“YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT THE BEST PONY!”
The marmalade caretaker thinks for a moment. Then she shudders too.
“Still,” she continues, “I’m not sure what you want me to say.”
“ ‘Please stop raining on Rarity’s house,’ would be a nice start, dear,” the unicorn snaps.
There’s the sound of cracking wood as the swollen door finally buckles under the weight of the accumulated water within, which all comes rolling out in a sapphire tide. Fluttershy takes wing with a squeak, nimbly hovering over the wave. Rarity is not so lucky, the current submerging her entirely in a moment. In the next one, the liquid has depleted itself, and the caretaker returns to earth, daintily setting her hooves on the least saturated patches of mulch she can find. Incredibly, the unicorn remains fixed where she had originally stood, her expression of aggrieved indignation unchanged, save for the addition of a sodden Sweetie Belle clutching at her neck as a lifeline and an inexplicable fish writhing within her mane.
Fluttershy considers what she could say. She come up with quite a few versions of “I told you so”. She decides there’s no way that ends well for her. Ultimately, she settles on, “I’ll talk to her,” and takes wing once again.
Rarity fails to reply. Even after Sweetie and the Fish detach themselves from her and attempt to coax an explanation from their elder, she remains silently fixed on that one point in space that she has been mentally trying to set fire to for the last ten minutes. It wouldn’t be ladylike, after all, to open her lips and expose the sound of her teeth grinding themselves to dust.
Author's Note
So Daring Don't struck me, personally, as what a Rainbow Dash fanfiction would read like, bringing us here.
