Clickity Hack's Tome of Origins

by ClickityHack

Rating: everyone
Tags: Adventure, Pinkie Pie, Random, Zecora, Alternate Universe, Nightmare Moon, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 4362

A collection of OC origin stories I have written for various people on Reddit gathered in to one collection.

This story is really a collection of stories. It began out of boredom as a writing exercise and now I just can't stop. I have really fallen in love with some of the origin stories to the point where I wish I could just go ahead and write entire histories for them, but in the end I realize these OC's belong to others and it is their sacred duty to develop their own adventures. Please feel free to follow me on Reddit under my monicker /u/AnotherSmegHead.

I want to dedicate this Tome to Felyx. Be he living or dead, I cannot say, but the fandom owes him a great debt. About $17,000 total. Few people risk standing up to do the right thing or even doing so quietly, but he did and together we started the fire that burned across /mlp/ and took the guilty parties in to its flames of justice. He is a good soul, but he is in a dark place I cannot follow somewhere in Canada. Please pray for him if you can spare a moment or suspend your disbelief.

If you cannot do either, then what are you doing here? This is a journey in to imagination that you are about to partake in. Sometimes what is imagined is not of our own making and sometimes it may be more real to us than the things in life that seem real to the senses. Read on and live on for the coming of the promised future is upon us all!

Published 2014-07-16 15:20:05 UTC
Last updated 2014-07-17 10:18:20 UTC

Clickity Hack

"The Maretrix is a system Clickity," my mentor told me, "A system of control. Our enemy. When you are inside, you look around, and what do you see? Earth ponies, farmers, business ponies, unicorns, party-goers... All of them are the very minds of the ponies we are trying to save. But these ponies are a part of THAT system until it is within our power to save them. Their world is not part of reality, but their lives are real. Their talents, their hobbies, and their accomplishments: They are part of what make you and I who we are. But some of them are still hallowed out by that system and they are still our enemy. You must try to understand, most of these ponies are not ready to exit the Maretrix, nor are we ready to receive them. Are you listening to me Clickity?"

"Yes," I replied, "But what of us? Why are we ready?"

"Because you sought the truth," was the simple answer, though the real context of how all that came to pass is quite bizzare and complicated for the uninitiated, "But so long as you remain in the Maretrix you are no longer who you once were. You're a digi-pony now. We cannot unplug you yet, but your mind is no longer confined to the rules of the shell. We are free Clickity. Free from the illusion of magic and even the barriers between so-called realities,"

"What do you mean?"

Suddenly everything was white. A row of doors lay before me. My mentor trotted slowly down the hall and one door after another opened up. Beyond the frame I could see familiar lands and unfamiliar ones. Some in desolation, some with sprawling cities, and many with variations of rural life.

"Do you really think there is just one world? Just one Earth? One sun and moon? No. The Maretrix contains many worlds and many time-lines. We believe that there used to be just one, the 'Canon' Equestria we call it. But the system has become increasingly complex and many resets used to be common. Its estimated that this is now the 4th incarnation of the Maretrix. Who can say how many actual generations have passed?"

"What do I have to do?"

"The old code took all the minds of the population and clumped them under one roof, but inconsistencies occurred. Now only a few ponies from each world are at the center of a story that suits them best for their particular mode of control. Some are given power, some hardship, and others simply a long list of tasks. Each mode of control keeps them asleep with a sprawling population of programs to simulate the ponies they think they have befriended. Some worlds have many actual minds and some have only one or maybe a hooveful. I need you to go search for them. Once you find them, give them the choice," my mentor waved a hoof and a saddle-bag simply appeared from the aether. There were two apples which he removed, not magically, but 'digitally' one might say.

"Take the green apple and their fairy tale continues. Take the red apple and we awaken them to a new story,"

Syntax Error

/u/RAGErER

He used to have a name. It was something that rolled off the tongue and was care-free and in good taste. What was it? Skippy Sparks? Fair weather? Lemon lime? Its so hard to remember now. It is hard to remember anything before July 15th, 2004. That would be... yes... ten years ago to the day. Late after school.

He had done it again, went off to the janitor closet to hide from the ponies calling him "blank flank" where he could finally get some studying done. Not much room to practice flying, but it was amazing the things that can be done with wings, with some practice. He had with him an old unplugged keyboard, now with a defunct plug since everything was going to USB... Tippy typer? Clickity... (no, that was somepony else's name...)

...anyway, what happened again? That's right! He remembers a bit clearly thinking it out step by step. This visual therapy session is working quite well. Can't forget to save now and then. Ctrl-a, ctrl-c... that'll do well enough.

He forgot it was a half-day, back when he forgot things. All the rooms were dark, locked, and the exit too. But the computer lab was still unlocked.

One old monochrome computer that only ran Oats-are-gone trail was glowing in the darkly lit room. Flitter lit? ... Low glow? No, those are dumb names.. ugh... what was it?!?

There was a code... a strange code scrawling down in rows, not uniform at all and in strange character sets. Unicode shouldn't even exist on something that old, but it did. Then... everything went blank. A single message appeared.

"Do you want to know what the Maretrix is? (y/n)"

Maretrix? Was that a math thing? He meant to press "y" but his whole body was trembling down to his wing tips. "u"

SYNTAX ERROR

Suddenly it was July 1111 and his alarm clock was going off. He heard his mother calling for him. "Wake up dear, its time for school!" Was that whole day a dream? Wait... it WAS a half day today. But... where was he? Did he live here? Had he ever been here before? It was hard to tell.

Huff and guffing, his father flew in to the room, "I've called your name like 1010 times. Get up already!" 1010 times? That didn't sound right. Why did his father's voice change suddenly. It sounded like no sound at all, but something more like... just knowing what should have been said... sort of...

Was this really his father? He couldn't remember. He just stared blankly at this pegasus wearing a tie with thick black framed glasses. Everything was kind of blurry beyond his face.

"SYNTAX ERROR, are you okay?" What? That's not right. What... happened to... there was a name there. "SYNTAX ERROR! Look! Oh wow, you got your cutie mar... er... its numbers or something..."

Secretly a Flamingo

/u/Secretly_a_flamingo

It was a day. He wasn't sure which one and didn't know about there being more than one kind of day really. There was day and sleepy time. All the pink birds were just like him. They stood on their legs, sometimes just one, wading in the cool waters, scooping up yummy things.

But this one had a small beak. It was barely a beak at all. It made him sad and frustrated. He wished... he wished he could just quit being a pink bird. The talking colorful things with all the legs had short beaks and they seemed happy. Sometimes they would visit the lake and some of them glowed and some were pink, but most not. It was easy to tell who was who, not like with the other pink birds. Why, he might forget who he was completely.

So on the last day, he followed one of the lots of legged colorful talky things back to her house. She was a stripy one which was very unique! Easy to remember. She was gray and darker gray, which to a bright pink bird in a group of other pink birds is very flashy by contrast.

She drank something and quickly went to sleep. He could see she left the door open and had lots of small pieces of colorful lakes. His beak was short enough he could drink right out of them and then... oh wow... weird things started happening...

Star Struck

/u/Brony_StarStruck

* Cue Musical Interlude and Classic Guitar Riff *

He was born in a nuclear hurricane,

And he howled at his ma in her birthing pain,

But it's all right now, and he was in luck!

Yeah it's all right. They jumped in a vault,

But he was Star struck struck!

He was raised by a mutant, bearded wiz,

He was schooled with a strap right across his wrist,

But it's all right now, because he was buck!

But it's all right, that Wiz taught him to pluck,

He was star struck struck!

He was bonked, by the star wand on his head.

He fell down to his hooves and his eyes turned red.

He frowned but he sang like a zepplin of lead.

Yeah, yeah, yeah!

He was crowned with a chorus inside his head.

But it's all right now, the music it stuck!

But it's all right, the world is still yuck,

But he's Star Struck Struck!

Fretboard Shred

/u/MishDjent

* The Ballad of Fretboard Shred *

Every morning at dawn you could see him arrive

He flew slick and straight and was done before five

Kinda broad at the wingspan and short in the head

And nopony gave guff to that Fretboard Shred

Nopony seemed to know where Shred called home

He just trotted into town with a broken phone

He didn't neigh much, he kinda nodded his head,

And when he spoke at all, it was to say he was "Shred"

Someponys say he came over from Manechester

Where he lost all his bits to the bloody jester

And a mighty blow from his leather boots

Put that Fillydelpy feller under grass and roots

Then came one day at a quarter til nine

Thunder cracked and fillies started cryin'

Farmers were prayin' and hooves beat fast

And everypony else thought they'd breathed their last

Through the flash floods and mudslides of that sudden rain

Flew the leather clad brute through the piercing pain

Grabbin' pony after pony flyin' up to the hill,

By the giant oak tree until the storms were still

And with all of his strength he whilred all around

And a colt yelled out, "What's that terrible sound?"

And a hundred pones stared as the sky became clear

Winds blew back the gales and they all started to cheer

But Fretboard Shred and his crazy-flank name,

Just weren't to be seen and it wasn't the same,

And these few words they etched in to a plaque,

"Watch the skies close in case he comes back,"

"Fretboard Shred"

Swift Heart

/u/WindyValkyrie

The Legend of SwiftHeart

Far to the west of Equestria, past the Midnight sea, past the lands of Glascow and Gildedale,

past the Shimmerwood and the Archback Mountain, and North of Hoovegorod, there lives in legend

the tribes of the Nordlig Liten Hest, known to some as the Sjøponni. It is said of them that

they sailed the many stretches of the Antlertric Ocean in search of treasure, new lands, and

even in conquest. But before those days were the times of tribulation and ponni turned against

ponni in a bitter dispute among the villages when the winds of winter settled one month too

long.

Blame first fell on the Pegasi of Flygende and the unicorns withdrew from them their magic so

that all their kin were made to walk among the soils of Jord. But the winter did not retreat

and so blame fell upon the unicorns of Etthorn and the Pegasi and the Jordponni braved the

highest summits to enlist the aid of the dragon, Svart Avtale. His blue fire cursed all the

unicorns who had brought down the Pegasi and melted the snows. And so for an age, all were

Jordponni, have they horn or feather, stuck to wander on the ground and make due with the milder

laws of nature. And every year, sacrifices would be made to the dragon, who would melt the snow

so that toiling the land for food in the bleak North could continue.

It was in such times that Swift Heart was born, under the first star of night when the evening

bells of Asatrot were ringing. There in the small village of Vrinsk she was born amid much

suspicion and ill tidings. Though her parents were colors of the blue sky of day, her coat was

black, and the elders debated if she was an unholy incarnation of the Mareritt Månen, the

banished queen of the night.

But as she grew there was no sign of malice in her. She was prone to wanderlust, but also

laughter. She was inventive as well. Her mother taught her the needle with which she sewed not

so many dresses as playthings made from old clothes and the branches of trees. She could not

see very far, but nothing was too far away from her to take a closer look.

She had never flown before, but her family had taken to fishing to make their living. They

would not eat the fish of course, but her father would train the fish to bring seaweed to the

surface in exchange for worms. And it was in this way she took to boating. She even took to

wood-working, making the bark taunt and flexible with her agile wings, a skill that older

generations had not thought to employ. She loved to sing of her work and of the stories of the

olden days. Every tale the elders would sing she took to her heart with haste.

But some feared her craftiness and cleverness. "Hekseri" the elders would mutter to themselves

when she showed her father the glass the smith had discarded and how it aided her to see things

far away. "Trolldom" the council whispered when the dolphins of the sea began to work for her and play with her. Her ways were "forbudt" they would murmur when she wove her hats and capes that reminded them of days when magic led to their ruin.

So it came to pass that the ancient sacrifice should be renewed when mid-winter gave way to the time when spring was overdue. She awoke that morning to a crowd of ponni gathered around her hov. There on the door was the mark of the drage, the symbol of the chosen sacrifice. Whom the dragon chose and why, none could say, but it spelled the end of her happy life in the village, one way or another. But she would choose another.

At first, she meant to fly away, to renew the lost means of her heritage, but many a fall cut short such means of escape. Her only chance was to steal away in the night, with the dolphins leading her small boat by a rope and the last bag of oats from her lands. Where would she go? Who would have to be sacrificed because of her cowardice? It wasn't fair, she thought. There must be another way. Another deal to be struck, without blood. A deal made in love. But where in the world would she find such powers?

Queen Cadence

Note: Not to be confused with the actual Canon Cadence...

/u/QueenCadence

Queen Cadence was a gangster. She posted to boards where she was told NOT to post. She joined the crips and was shot the next day. Her body was eaten by griffons.

Don't join gangs.

The end.

FrostFire

/u/Pinkie_Pi

FrostFire

The desert is nothing more than a dry ocean where wind has replaced the sea. Though simple, it is still full of mystery. The day is hot as coals and the night brings the shudders to the core of her bones. It is the twilight and her parents are gone. Young nameless filly wanders the wastes. Why did they leave their home? She thinks to herself in a young voice, without language, free from the destructive forces of inner monologue. Her thoughts are of pure cause and effect, connected to feeling, to smells, and the height of unspoken truth is in her welling up like the tears in her eyes. Loneliness is a cruel truth. It is the starvation of the mind to be apart from the parental ones. They were her guide until now.

She awakens the next day, on the lap of a large hairless ape. No... he does have some hair. His arms are thick, but gentle. Is he like a parent? A guide? She takes to him kindly. He speaks now. She does not understand his words. They go to a town with more balding apes. They all wear the cotton, leather and coats of the other animals, since they have been afflicted with a terrible deformity. This one sings a gentle song to her and wraps her in a blanket. The others gather and bring her food. Small ones try to pet her and rub her horn. It is not so bad.

Many cycles of the moon pass. It is a good way to judge the passing of time, she thinks, because it is an unchanging pattern. There are patterns in speech as well and the words begin to unfold naturally in her mind. "Crom" is the name of the one who rescued her from the lonely wastes. Corin, his son, is her closest friend. They are as brothers and sisters but many in the town still refer to her as a "pet". But why? She can speak and run and even work.

"FrostFire" is what Crom calls her, "Icy blue with hair red and orange like the flames," he shows her the forge where he makes his tools and his swords, "You are like the riddle of fire and ice, the secret of steel. There are many secrets inside you as well. Your magic is like this sword. It can do much good and much harm and its source of power is yet unknown,"

She does not know what these swords are for yet. She does not have hands, but has found the ability to move many things just by thinking about it. It is because she is a "unicorn" she is told. She moves a shield to her face and her reflection frowns back at her. It makes her sad to think she is different. She tried to wear clothes and play with the children, but they just want to ride on her and see "magic". They do not understand.

Corin knows though. He talks to her like a real friend.

Time passes. Corin is 15 now and the village declares he is a man. He has slain a sand-worm upon which the village feasts. FrostFire does not like to eat meat, but she does because she does not want to make Corin feel bad. But he knows.

"FrostFire," he tells her as the other dance and drink, "I know you want answers to your past. The wizard who passed through here last season gave me a clue. He says there are more like your kind to the south, through the desert. And I am a man now. We can leave together and find your people," None of the others would have called her kind 'people'. How can she say no? How can she go on not knowing? Her eyes flicker with a spark of light. She sheds a tear. It freezes on her cheek and melts away again.

He does not ride her. They take a surplus of food and water on the backs of their camels and walk side by side. But she would let him if he asked. If he really wanted to it would not be so bad because he does not treat her like a beast of burden. They are family... but... not really... something like that but better than friends.

A pure thought, for there is as of yet no word for it. "Corin" she thinks. "Yes. He is my Corin. That word will do,"

Willow

/u/willowmvp227

On the stoop of a karaoke bar in Manehattan, a filly is left swaddled in a quilt with a note, "Her name is Willow. It rhymes with pillow."

Melodic sobbing awakens the security guard from his day dreams. He is a unicorn of few pursuits but he craves above all something called "Justice" which he rarely has the blessing to dispense. Instead, he takes up pen and paper and lives his alternate life on the page, doodling, sometimes quite well, the adventures of sleuthing, narcing, and even citations which is far more exciting than taking out ponies who drank past the point of realizing they were singing the same Journey song three times in a row.

His name is Vigil Light, son of Vigil Heavy, heir to less of girth and less of mirth. His perception however, never in question, is beyond any and all deception. He spies the figure in the night, and the tiny puddles in the brick cracks are not from the rain or expelled excess of berry flavored liquors as is so often the case, but tears, salty and confused perhaps. How does he know this?

There is no use to cry out now or give chase. The cold onset is coming fast and without the control of Pegasi. In this land the cold just is sometimes and there is no stopping it for a filly's cry.

An Earth pony... With Earthen hair mixed in a dark blue like the land upon a sea. A whole world in one pony with the blossoms of green life in her eyes. What sort of pony abandons the world? Where is the justice in that?

Treble Clef

/u/RavenClawDash

Treble Clef knew something was quite wrong with the world. She couldn't tell what exactly, but it seemed as if she was missing something or missing out on something. Still, she kept this to herself. Other ponies bothered her too. It would be very rude to say so however and it was said, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all,"

So it was written and so it was done. Or in this case, not done. Not said.

Everyday was a Saturday and every day a morning. She questioned this in her own way, the quiet way, never mentioning such a taboo subject out loud. Some weekends she would watch the other ponies go on adventures, if they could be called that, but it was as if she only existed in a flash of a moment compared to them. Their adventures were sort of lacking in venturing for the most part:

Baking

Dress-up

Make-overs

Sometimes Applejack would fall in a river or an evil demon would kidnap a princess and she would hide in the corner and smile on the inside, humming to herself, gaining inspiration to strum at her guitar. She wasn't even sure how this was possible honestly.

Then one day, just that one day, she got on stage for a brief instant! Oh it was simply the best day ever, but for some reason they never had a concert again. Or maybe she missed it. She wasn't sure. Life was so confusing like that.

But one day Treble Clef heard the most beautiful voice singing a song that she was pretty sure did not belong on her channel... what was a channel anyway? Oh well. Another question she was afraid to ask...

A bold and bright pink pony was bouncing around the contrasting water-colored landscapes. The world seemed grainy and fuzzy compared to this pony's rich defined aura. How magical! The pony was singing about smiles and though she was hesitant to ask her name, she quietly stalked...er...followed this stranger who was blindly hopping around.

Then, more magic happened, and the pink pony looked at her watch (where did THAT come from) and sighed. Her hooves seemed to reach up in to thin air which was pulled aside. Another world appeared in a sort of... portal... maybe... maybe this was the other "channel" she kind of knew about in the back of her mind.

Well... she already had her guitar strapped to her back from earlier... might as well see what's on the other side...

Danger Pulse

/u/DangerPulse

Danger Pulse was a weird colt. He had wings for starters. Nopony in Seaddle had wings! He wasn't really adept with his aviary appendages either. Some ponies might think he was more like a mole than a bird by the way he acted. At least, that is how he was for a long while, hiding in garbage bins, kicking cans against walls, and generally not interacting with anyone.

Seaddle had been cut off from the rest of Equestria. The Bridge of Eternia, once shimmering and glorious, had sunk to the bottom of the Quiet Sea. Tapes, CD's, MP3's, were all unknown to the residents of Seaddle, but his father passed on to him a precious collection of records. Lost in his music, Danger Pulse would spend hours and hours listening to old records, sometimes even two at a time, just to see if they went well together.

But when his wings were larger, he began jumping off tall things and that was problematic for a while. He would nap in trees and hide things on the roofs of buildings and there really was no way to stop him from doing whatever the buck he felt like doing.

One day, after a very heated argument about where his mother's socks had gone off to, he stormed out and just began flying over the ocean. He flew out as far as he could, the rapid pace of a heavy metal solo racing through the ruts that had been carved in his mind. He could hear the music, even when it wasn't there. It drove him forward, faster then seagulls and the wind was his back-up.

But far out at sea, he eventually grew weary, resting on the broken bits of the bridge. He had neglected to eat or bring anything to eat. But what could he do? There was no going back now. Then something floated his way. A box? No, a plastic bin, with some cool junk in it. Among the doo-dads was a pair of headphones. But where was the chord? "Blue tooth"? What's that? This stuff had to have come from somewhere. Was he really already that close to shore? How far and fast could he really fly? Was he really almost all the way to Stableside? There was nothing left to lose. He donned the headphones and caught the wind while it was still on his side.