Six Hundred Words (written by OtterMatt) (obsolete)

by Spabble

Rating: everyone
Tags: Random
Length: 2960

One writer, several writing prompts, six hundred words each.

Contained herein are a series of scene sketches. I wrote them from prompts, focusing on one specific detail, and was limited to a severely small number of words. It was one of the most helpful things I ever did in my writing career.

1. Déjà Vu – Write a scene from a present and past perspective at the same time.
2. Body Language – Write a scene between two characters with no dialogue.
3. Phone Tag – Write one half of a conversation, and help the reader fill in the rest.
4. The Reluctant “I” – Write a first-person scene only using a first-person pronoun twice.
5. The Argument – Show an argument from the outside, without taking either participant’s perspective or side.

- - - - -

Hey, everyone. OtterMatt here. Just for the record, I’m not coming back to FimFic. Not ever. I’m sorry to say it, but my life has moved on, as it were, and writing just isn’t a part of it anymore. That being said, I love these stories of mine very much. There’s a lot of myself that I put into them, and at least a couple people have told me that these stories meant a lot to them as well. So, for those people, and for anyone else who enjoys my work in the future, I’m charging my friend Spabble here with curating my completed stories. Thank you all for the love, the faves, and the support as I grew and learned. Keep doing what you love, and the best of luck to you all.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-08-12 19:09:16 UTC

Déjà Vu

Peridot’s hoof shook only slightly as he lit the candles.  As the matchhead moved from one to the next, the brightly colored stalks lit, wavering in the kitchen’s air.  Eight, nine, ten...  As the eleventh candle began to glow, Peridot stopped, staring at the cluster of flames.  He sniffed, and tried to push the overwhelming emotions aside.  This was a happy day.

Peridot lit the eleventh and final candle, leaning well back from the cake.  It wouldn’t do to have a tear fall and spoil the pristine surface, not on a day like this.  Eleven candles—would there ever be more?  They barely even fit on such a tiny cake, but with their daughter’s appetite being so absent lately, it couldn’t be much bigger.  He drew a hoof over his eyes to clear any lingering tears, and took a deep breath.  He couldn’t let the emotions ruin this happy day.  He lifted the cake and balanced it on his back, carefully bearing it to the table where little Jade waited eagerly with her mother.

The match still hovered in his grasp as he glanced through the doorway into the dining room where he was awaited.  Two years, and so much had changed.

Jade looked tiny.  She had lost so much weight in the last year from being sick and the treatments robbing her of her hunger, and with most of her mane and tail gone she looked so much smaller.  His heart stuck in his throat as he set the cake on the table and began to sing with his wife, their voices soft and just on the edge of steady.

Just as his hoof began to get uncomfortably warm, Peridot forced himself back into the moment, lit the remaining two candles, and shook out the match.  He wrestled the cake tray onto his back, and walked into the other room.

The doctors had tactfully said that this birthday was likely to be Jade’s last.  After five years of fighting, they had reached the point of last-ditch measures and fleeting hopes, and the family had begun to slowly come to grips with the idea of being reduced back to just two.  Even the presents were subconsciously temporary, chosen to be enjoyed and/or consumed in short term.

While the memories may be tinged with grief, Peridot and his wife sang without a trace of sadness as they commemorated the birth of their only child.  When the song concluded, there was a brief moment of stillness, a sharp release of breath, and all thirteen candles blinked out of existence.  Peridot and his wife cheered as Jade swept her regrown mane out of her eyes and stared excitedly at the cake.  She looked so much better now, vibrant and joyful in addition to her healthier size.

Peridot sat back and just watched as the cake was cut and consumed by the others.  It was a birthday his daughter was never supposed to see, but by the grace of Harmony, here she was, without a trace of sickness.  The surprise present this year was that Jade was finally old enough to apprentice in his jewelry shop.  There was a future, and that was a miracle in itself.

Body Language

It was just before the main course was served when they walked in, bound for a table.  Just the four of them, Rarity in front leading her parents, followed by—her, looking even better than usual.  Sweetie Belle’s white coat was practically sparkling and her mane was mostly straightened for the occasion, making her look older and more lovely.  Rarity was chatting away about how if her parents were visiting then it was her duty to treat them to a fine meal, and besides, they had a graduation to celebrate.  This prompted a proud hug from Sweetie Belle’s mother, which the nearly 16 year-old filly took with good grace.

Featherweight stared, subconsciously trying to groom his mane, waiting for the time when she would notice him as well.  His own family was chatting quietly, leaving him out of mind while they waited for the meal to arrive.  The unicorn family sat down and lifted their menus, when Sweetie Belle caught sight of him between the scattered tables and dining couples, and their eyes met.

Featherweight gave a large smile, and waved, keeping his hooves low so his parents wouldn’t notice.  She smiled in return, and glanced at her own family, who were deep in debate over how they could let their own daughter pay for such pricey food.  Sweetie Belle looked back, gestured subtly between the two of them, and glanced pointedly at his family with a questioningly raised eyebrow.  Featherweight looked abashed, and shook his head slightly.  He nodded at her and raised his own eyebrow to turn the question around, and she froze with a blush, shaking her head.  He laughed silently, sticking his tongue out at her.

A waiter had arrived with their meals just about the same time as one trotted over to Sweetie Belle’s table, and he brought his attention back to his lemongrass linguini, keeping one ear turned across the room.  He could clearly hear Rarity gushing to the waiter.

“Yes, we are celebrating.  My little sister has been accepted to the Royal Musical Academy in Canterlot!”

Featherweight almost dropped his fork, turning to look back at Sweetie Belle with shock in his eyes.  This was entirely new news to him.  There was a hint of either shame or regret in hers as she met his gaze, nodding to confirm the statement and mouthing “I’m sorry” across the dining room.  Pride warred with anxiety in the colt.  Unable to decide what his feelings were, he tried to hide his pained face and pantomimed clapping his hooves for her.  She gave a slight bow, but from the look on her face, it seemed he hadn’t been entirely successful in hiding his feelings.

He took a bite of his pasta, hoping to let the warm, flavorful food soothe him, but the hole had already been dug.  How much time did they have left?  Weeks?  Months?

With a sudden glint in his eye, Featherweight checked to make sure his family hadn’t noticed anything yet, muttered something about needing the colt’s room, and got up, gesturing with his head to Sweetie Belle.  She caught on instantly, and slid over in the booth just enough to lean over to Rarity and excuse herself from their table.

In the hallway behind the bar, she found herself quickly enveloped in a firm hug of both hooves and wings, and a pair of familiar lips planted themselves gently but eagerly on her own.  She returned the kiss with equal fervor until they broke for air.

Featherweight smiled, even though his brown eyes were sad as he looked into Sweetie Belle’s.  “Hey,” he said.

Phone Tag

Lyra laid the magazine on her lap and leaned her head back against the sofa, closing her eyes.  Her ears turned accusingly towards the kitchen as the blaring ring of the phone broke her relaxed state.  Bon Bon’s hoofsteps sounded across the linoleum, followed by the clatter of the receiver being picked up.

“Hello?  Oh, hi mom!”  Lyra perked up a bit.  Vanilla Bean was an awesome mare, and if she was calling, there was a chance they might be getting invited over for dinner.  Lyra decided she needed to pay attention to this conversation.

“Oh, nothing much,” her marefriend said, “we did just take a trip into Canterlot for a musician’s conference.”  A short pause.  “Yeah, for Lyra.  Some of her old ensemble friends wanted to discuss getting together for a benefit concert.”

Lyra debated getting up to say hi herself as Bon Bon went silent, apparently listening.  “Yes, mom, I know,” she heard Bon Bon say, her voice quieter.  “I know we didn’t come out for Hearth’s Warming last year.”  Lyra frowned and got up, walking over to the window, looking out at the dusting of snow Ponyville was just starting to accumulate as winter set in.  “It depends.  Is Red Hot going to be there?”  Lyra winced.  This conversation was going downhill fast, she could tell.  “Well, if he’s going to be there, then I’m not.”  And there it was.

“I don’t care if he is my brother, you remember just as well as we do how Hearth’s Warming went last time.”  Bon Bon paused to listen.  “Of course I love you all—even Red—but I can’t be around him.  We’ll just end up in another fight and ruin things all over again.”

Lyra sighed.  That had been one of the worst times of her life.  It was bad enough when somepony fought with her directly, but to watch Bon Bon argue on her behalf—against her own family, no less—had been heartbreaking.

“Mom, I’m not going to go home for Hearth’s Warming without Lyra.  It would still be awkward and I’d be lonely.”  Another pause.  “Well, yeah, her family didn’t start a fight because she had a marefriend.”  Lyra walked to the kitchen doorway, staring at Bon-Bon’s back.  Of course she would allow Bon Bon to go see her family without her, and Bon Bon likely knew it, but she wasn’t about to give in to her brother.  Sometimes it was scary how stubborn she could be...

Don’t do this, Lyra tried to telepathically plead with her marefriend.  Bon Bon’s head was bowed as she talked into the phone and her voice was sounding more and more strained.  “Well, you didn’t exactly jump in to back me up, either,” she accused, making Lyra wince in sympathy.

Bon Bon held the phone away from her head, smacking her other hoof against her head and muttering to herself, “Stupid, why’d you say that?”  She sighed and returned the phone to her ear.  “Mom, don’t cry.  I didn’t mean anything, really.”

There was a lengthy pause.

“I know.  I’m sorry, too,” she said quietly into the phone.  “I think this is a pretty good example of why I shouldn’t be at home when Red Hot is, though.  I don’t want to keep putting you and dad through this year after year.”

Lyra walked silently across the floor, knowing she would be needed as soon as the conversation was over.  Bon Bon’s shoulders were sagging with every sentence, it seemed.

“I know, mom, and I promise, we will come visit soon.”  Bon Bon stopped to wipe a hoof across her eyes.  “I don’t know, but we’ll make time.  I promise.”

“I love you, too, mom.  Bye.”  Bon Bon set the receiver back on the countertop.  She turned around to see Lyra already sitting right by her side, hooves out and ready for her to collapse into.  Bon Bon did just that, trying to find a way to tell her marefriend what had just happened even as she was breaking down into tears, but Lyra shushed, gently comforting her.

The Reluctant "I"

Herein are recorded the words of Major Burnished Shield (ret.), Royal Guard, recorded on the 15th of Novermber, 2538 C.E. by his grandson, Tattered Scroll.

The Day Everfree Fell.  Ponies still talk about it; the older ones still ask each other where they were when it happened.  Whenever they ask, it comes back like it was merely yesterday, because I was there.

Everypony who served in Everfree Castle remembered the fight.  Everypony who was in the East Wing at the time heard the fight.  The argument was intense, and there were words spoken between the royal sisters that couldn’t be easily taken back.  Luna accusing her sister of being uncaring, and Celestia seeing a deep-seated greed in Luna.  Truth be told, it’s hard to fault Luna for feeling unappreciated: when you literally live in the shadow of the sun, it’s hard to be noticed, but those who lived around her noticed a change.  She had become darker, colder.  Looking back, it’s easier to see the influence of the Nightmare, whispering in her ear.  At any rate, that fight left deep rifts between the sisters and Luna left the castle, but everypony knew she would be back.  The hope was simply that she would be peaceful when she returned.

It wasn’t to be, sadly.  A number of ponies who were loyal to Luna had left alongside her, and she came back at the head of her own army.  Ponies who had been sweet and innocent before had been corrupted and twisted by the Nightmare’s influence.  The barest hints of jealousy, anger, and malice had been fanned into burning flames at the injustice done to their princess, and they had returned to offer battle for the throne of Equestria.

Though they were outnumbered almost three to one, the Lunar Army fought with a terrifying abandon.  Coupled with the fact that our guards were reluctant to harm former friends, the fight was more even than it had any right to be.  The blood spilled on both sides weighs heavily on the hearts of those who fought to this day.

Luna took the fight to her sister directly.  The castle had been evacuated, with but one foolish pony remaining.  I sat in the throne room, too loyal to leave and too terrified to help—mere set dressing for the final act of the play.  Words were few between them, everything that needed to be said having been said months before.  Luna let her power build in terrifying fashion, drawing herself up to fight her own flesh and blood.  Her body rippled with the other side of light—a terrifying, dark radiance that was matched only by the glorious corona surrounding Celestia.

The force when their released magics met was indescribable.  Brilliant light cascaded against octarine fire, releasing energy everywhere.  Stained glass murals depicting the very foundation of Equestria shattered like broken dreams.  Stone walls that had survived seventy-plus generations began to buckle and crack.  The ceiling that had sheltered the leaders of the nation for thousands of years fell in chunks, simply evaporating when they fell too close to the unholy power wielded by the sisters.

Celestia gave one final plea, begging her sister not to force her hoof.  Her magic seemed to falter, and Luna’s twisted smile became even larger as she pressed the advantage.  Celestia sighed deeply, sadly, and suddenly her eyes opened to show a glow even brighter and hotter than her heavenly charge.  She rose slowly into the air without so much as a wingflap, her full power and majesty on display as the avatar of Harmony itself.  Luna’s magic began to fade, and she panicked, trying to find an escape as the cascade of magical energy enveloped her.  Celestia’s serene facade cracked, a pained expression flitting over her face as if she were warring within herself, trying to avoid doing what was clearly the right thing.

A final cry marked the end.  The light faded.  Luna was gone.  Celestia drifted back to the floor, where she crumpled in a heap and wept like a foal.  It was somehow even more terrifying than the fight had been.

The Argument

I wasn’t supposed to have seen the argument.  They never even knew I was there.  I was sitting in an outdoor bistro in downtown Canterlot enjoying lunch, when I noticed two of my best friends in the world.

I had known Lucky since we were both tiny colts.  We grew up together, played together, went to school together.  We were practically brothers until high school, even when we ended up in different schools.

I met Wildfire in college.  We hit it off immediately, and became good friends and partners in mischief.  I was overjoyed when she met—and fell head over hooves for—my best friend.

The two of them were a perfect fit.  They seemed made for each other.  Maybe that was why it broke my heart to see the two of them going at it in the middle of the city.

“I am going to get a hooficure!” she almost screamed at him.

“No!  I’ve already paid for three of those things this month!” he cried back.

I blushed and hid myself behind my book.  If they actually saw me they’d be mortified, I’m sure, but something else was going on here, I could tell.

By the sound of it, Wildfire was in no mood to back down.  “Why are you so set on keeping me home when you’re never there?  Are you the only one who can spend money anymore?”

Lucky snorted.  “What’s the big deal about hooficures anyway?  You’re not even going with your marefriends this time.  What do you do all day that wears them down so much, huh?”

“Is it such a crime to want to look good?”

“What have you got to look good for?”  Lucky said, slightly incredulous.  “It’s not like we’re going anywhere.”

Wildfire fumed, a hoof slamming down on the table.  “I can’t believe you!  I just...  I—I... What does it matter?”  I heard a distinct change in Wildfire’s voice, and I peeked out to see her shoulders slump in defeat.

Lucky didn’t seem to notice.  “What does it matter how the money is spent?”

“No, I—  Never mind.  You’re right, it doesn’t matter anyway.”  I was floored.

The rapid shift seemed to have caught her husband’s attention as well.  “Wait, what now?  Hang on, Wild, what’s wrong?” he asked, much quieter.

Wildfire said nothing for some time, just staring at her hooves on the table.  “Lucky, I just—I just wanted you to look at me.” she said without looking up.

“What’s that mean?  I’m looking at you right now, aren’t I?” Lucky said, flustered by the shift.

“No,” she sighed, shaking her head.  “When we first met, Lucky.  You stared at me like, well, I don’t know, but it was special.  When we were dating, you stared at me so often that you actually ran straight into a building while we were walking.  When we got married, you couldn’t stop looking at me long enough to get your vows right.”  Understanding dawned on Lucky.  “In 11 years, when did it stop?”

His jaw worked up and down as he tried to find words.  “I don’t know, Wild.  Life just, you know, happens.”

“It’s a small thing, but after a hooficure, I feel beautiful.  Just for a little bit.  I keep thinking that maybe you’ll look at me like that again.”

“I guess I’ve taken you for granted...”  He stuck his hoof across the table and took hers.  “Hey, how about we go somewhere special, just us?  Maybe Manehatten?”

She frowned.  “What about work?  Your lunch break’s over in ten minutes.”

Lucky gave his mate a smile.  “I think this food gave me food poisoning.”

Wildfire let out a small laugh, and I let out a sigh of relief, knowing they’d be okay.