What people call "everyday life" is a tower of blocks built by a child.
In other words, a random assortment of objects in all sizes, shapes, and colors, thrown haphazardly into a structure that just barely manages to retain it's balance. When even a single block starts trembling, no doubt the whole tower will begin to teeter dangerously, placing heavy stress on the blocks closest to the disturbance.
And the more crucial that block is to the stability of the whole, the more severe the disruption.
What could you say about that hypothetical "tower" then if, by chance, the everyday life it stood for was suddenly twisted into something so unrecognizable that even the person whom it belonged to couldn't make heads nor tails of it?
/ /
"And ... done."
That was the last of the thick, still-damp fabric sheets I had finished comfortably airing out after hanging them over a sturdy clothesline. A steady ray of sunlight highlighted the bright lavender colors of the bedspread, and made the white towels somewhat hard on the eyes. I took a step back, the soles of my sneakers digging lightly into the coffee brown soil beneath me, and admired it all. Though it was nothing more than menial labor at most, a self-satisfied puff of air forced itself through my nostrils, and a light smile tugged at the corners of my lips at a job well done.
"Finished with the laundry?"
A slightly distracted, but steady feminine voice rose from the window behind me. Probably reading another book, as was nearly always the case with her. I sighed and half-yelled a reply, knowing fully well that my regular tone of speech wouldn't reach her from the outside.
"Y- yeah. Just needs to sit out a few hours, then I'll take it all back in."
Well, despite my best efforts, I still stuttered a bit. My brow faintly furrowed with light exhaustion, I heaved a sigh and picked up a wooden basket turned on it's side by my feet, securing it in my arms before circling the perimeter of the tree house to reach the entrance.
The weather was hovering awkwardly between below freezing and chilly, unsure of which side to choose and therefore fluctuating quite a bit. A rare, cutting wind pressed up against the fabric of my hoodie and went straight through to my bones. I couldn't help but shiver a bit. To my knowledge, the Pegasi were responsible for the climate in Ponyville - no, for most parts Equestria itself. For the first time in a while, it struck me as much too strange that, given control over something fundamental like the weather, there are those who would consciously decide not to set the temperature of every day of the year to a comfortable 72 degrees Fahrenheit. However, too much of a good thing eventually does spoil, and it's not as if Pegasus ponies are intrinsically involved with the workings of the elements themselves - the winged creatures are capable of many things in the way of clouds, but if a gloomy season was prepared to sweep over Equestria, there really was no physically stopping it. My complaints, if valid at all, should be sent to Princess Celestia herself, as some more persistence in solar heat would be much appreciated and certainly would tip the scales on this Fall day ... but that would be a chore, and it's not like today's wind is absolutely freezing to begin with. Better to keep my thoughts to myself in this situation.
Uncomfortably managing the basket while trying to open the door with one barely free hand, I somehow get a grip on the handle and gently pull backwards. A rush of warm air meets my face and the rest of my body, the familiar aroma of crisp parchment paper and book bindings filling my nostrils. It's a sensation I'm used to now, having lived in this place for quite a period of time, but it never gets old. The scent of books sends a warm feeling to the pit of my stomach, and that emotion is only amplified further with the comfortable sight of my legal guardian sprawled out against an old, cushy beanbag with a novel hovering in front of her snout. As I close the door behind me, her large, curious gaze shifts to me. Her mouth forms a kind, genial smile.
"Thanks for all the hard work, Ciel."
I set the wooden laundry basket down to the side of the entrance doors and decide to play it cool.
"It wasn't much."
"For you, I'm sure," Twilight Sparkle responded, her tone slighly stern, "but that kind of stuff is still a hassle even when using magic, you know?"
And I, Ciel Atlus, ran my fingers through the silky mop of white hair on my head, letting a casual grin come to my face and a playful tone enter my voice.
"Yes, yes, I'm aware. You're perfectly welcome for this supreme act of grace, Twilight."
The lavender pony looks a little pouty for a moment before falling prey to a few giggles. I myself chuckle a little bit, feeling my features relax into a soft smile. As I move to remove my dark hoodie, she goes on.
"You've really got an attitude, you know that? I don't even know what I'm going to write to Princess Celestia today with you always picking on me like this."
Hanging up the outerwear on the front door's neighboring coat rack, I throw back a somewhat cocky reply,
"Instead of writing a friendship report about the ponies living in this town, how about going into detail about you and that book you haven't put down ever since I lent it to you last week?"
"How rude! I totally have not been reading Perilous Cairo for more than a few days!" She really is pouting now.
My button-up shirt ruffled into a folded mess by my removing my hoodie earlier, I take a few moments to flatten it out with the palm of my hands.
"Well, your magic sure is coming along. Making time move at double the speed in your vicinity, is it? Impressive."
Twilight let out a genuine groan and let herself sink into the lavender pillow beneath her. Despite the fact that she's obviously upset with me, the sight is both funny and cute enough to incite a small laugh from me.
The fact that the two of us can be like this now is, I suppose, a solid testimony of the time we've spent together - or rather, the time I've spent simply living in Equestria ever since my eventful arrival ..
.. one week ago.
//
Life is full of two types of people: the winners and the losers. As human beings, it's easy to slip into the mindset that simply because we're intelligent, we're somehow set apart from the natural laws of the universe. Even as the advanced species we are, nature selects against us in various different circumstances; this is why, if you want to be on the "winner" side of life, you need just one thing: versatility. Put more simply, the ability to adapt to most if not all situations.
No matter how much you make yourself out to be a genius or a professional in some aspect of life, all it means is that you painfully lack the means to make up for it in all other areas. That's how it is. If we say life is a third-rate RPG, the one who comes out on top isn't the ever popular DPS Tank nor the largely underestimated Ranged Elementalist, but the "Jack of All Trades," the master of none. In other words, being successful is nothing but a basic process that involves knowing when to step up, step down, go the extra mile, retreat with your tail between your legs, stand and fight, and even grovel at your enemies' feet; your average person is only capable of about half or less of these things, honestly speaking. It's a simple understanding of these fundamental truths of human beings - no, of sentient life itself that I'm able to be the person I am today.
In order of surname to first name: Atlus, Ciel. Currently seventeen years old, and a dorm-residing student at a liberal arts boarding school. Stands at a "slightly taller than average" height of 5 feet and 11 inches. Build is lean, sort of thin, but not scrawny. Facial features are somewhat chiseled, the softness of youth still present in cheeks and jawline,
