The Price of Beauty

by Gear Grinder

Rating: mature
Tags: Prince Blueblood, Slice of Life, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Sad
Length: 2593

It isn't easy being so magnificent. Blue Blood knows this very well. But how far would he push himself to achieve perfection?

Being a member of the Royal Family is no easy task. Constant adoration and praise are crucial for ones sanity, especially to Prince Blue Blood. No pony ever dared to question his smarmy attitude simply because they were too captivated by his magnificent looks. He worked hard to make sure his body was in top form, and his exterior reflected it magnificently.

That is, until that night at the Grand Galloping Gala.

When he had been assaulted by that ruffian Unicorn Rarity, his mind has never been the same. No amount of praise could make him happy anymore. Every time he looked in the mirror, he felt nothing but disgust and self-loathing. So he took things to the extreme. He now cleans himself to the very last fiber of his being, making sure every part of him is majestic, slim and perfect. Both inside and out.

Published 2015-04-21 02:20:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-04-21 02:20:02 UTC

The Price of Beauty

I must be clean. I MUST be clean. Clean, clean, clean.

Prince Blue Blood scrubbed himself incessantly with a brush in his shower, making sure to clean every single individual strand of hair on his coat and every single lock of hair in his mane and tail. He took out a toothbrush from it's container with his magic, then opened a new bottle of toothpaste. He put a decent amount of it onto the bristles with a single squeeze. He wet the paste, then brushed his teeth with vigorous strokes, making sure to get every nook and every cranny. As he scrubbed himself and brushed his teeth, he also levitated a clean metal scraper. He lifted his front hooves, making sure to pick out all of the dirt and other disgusting materials located within. The scraper dug into the finer crevices of his hooves, causing him to wince in pain. Very small streaks of blood flowed out from within.

It's fine. I'm fine. No pain, no progress. Must be vigilant. Need to be clean.

Blue Blood chuckled slightly at the sight of the crimson streams. How ironic that his name was Blue Blood, yet he was just as red blooded as everypony else. He froze for a minute to contemplate that thought. His blood was just as red as everypony else. Even filthy Earth Ponies and mangy Pegasi. Did that mean his blood was dirty, as well?

He scoffed at the notion. He was Blue Blood! PRINCE Blue Blood! Nephew to Princess Celestia and Luna, cousin to Princess Cadence! He was of true, royal blood! No Earth Pony or Pegasus could ever hope to dream his superior Unicorn genetics were anywhere similar to theirs! He grinned triumphantly, his pride gleaming off of his muzzle and into the incoming water.

Water poured onto his face from the shower head, seeping through his teeth and some sliding down his gullet. He coughed and panicked. He had just drank SHOWER water, and not his normal 100% magically purified and sanctified distilled water! Disgusting! He spat repeatedly, hoping to rid his body of the vile fluid that had invaded his mouth and made it's way through his body. Once more he unboxed a new toothbrush and uncapped a new tube of toothpaste. Once more he scrubbed at his teeth and gums, this time facing away from the shower head. He must rid himself of everything having to do with the water. Everything.

He looked at his hooves, noticing the blood wasn't leaving his coat very well. He sighed, knowing full well what he had to do now. He turned off the shower and stepped out, making sure to not touch any tiling. He sat on his golden toilet, pulling up a porcelain tub and taking out a new brush. He levitated over a bottle of bleach, pouring in the contents to the bowl. He swiped the brush into the bleach, then started scrubbing at the parts of his coat where the blood had stained it the most. A burning pain seized his hooves and legs, making him want to stop and wash away the pain.

Like before. Just like before. No pain, no progress. Must have perfectly white coat. Yes. White. Clean. Pure.

A few knocks came from the door, and a young Unicorn mare walked in with a fresh, clean towel. The towel was totally new, literally stitched to completion just before it was delivered to the Prince. It was embroidered with his cutie mark in the front, a golden compass rose.

"What is the material made of this time?" Blue Blood asked.

The mare bowed before answering. "Crystal Ewe wool, your Highness. Sheared just a few hours ago."

"Was it washed and dried to my specific instructions?"

Once again, a bow. "Yes, your Highness. The dragon we captured put in the lightest of breaths to make sure every strand matched your requirements of dryness."

"Good. Make sure to release him and his family by tomorrow, then capture a new dragon. I don't want any one dragon to dry my towels twice in a row." He shuddered. "Stale air. Filthy."

A bow. "Of course. Is there anything else you'd like, your Highness?"

"Yes. Have the royal plumbers remove this shower, then replace it with a new one."

Bow. "A wise decision, your Highness. What material do you want the new shower to be made of?"

"Something that's very easy to clean, and won't spread germs or viruses or any other nasty little beasties." He thought for a bit, then said "Actually, don't release the dragons just yet. Descale their hides, then wash everything they get thrice over and fashion their scales into a bathtub." He paused. "Better yet, a hot tub."

A very low bow as she started walking out of the room. "Excellent choice, your Highness. I'll leave you to your... cleaning." She closed the door behind her. Blue Blood immediately walked to the door knob while wincing in pain, then locked it securely with a click. He gazed around, making sure no speck of dirt had been left over. The bathroom was immaculate. Every surface was completely germ and filth free. He sighed, satisfied. So much work had to be put in just to be clean. It was worth it in the end, though. Cleanliness is beauty, and beauty is cleanliness. And, as all little fillies and colts are told by their momma's and pappa's just before chore time: Cleanliness is next to godliness. Speaking of which, now it was time to clean even deeper.

He walked over to his mirror, looking at the magnificent face before him. As he did so, he smiled with his usual broad grin. The tooth-brushing had done it's work well. Sure, his over-sensitive gums may bleed a little, but giving his teeth the bleach treatment would get them to their perfect, pure whiteness. He opened his mouth wider, looking at his esophagus. The sad, thin little uvula bobbed up and down as he swallowed. It hadn't always been like that. It used to be bigger, fuller and normal looking. His throat ached at the memory, and he looked over to his toilet. The toilet had been the one thing he had kept throughout every time the bathroom had to be changed. Pure, solid gold; A royal gift from an old fling of his from Saddle Arabia. He looked at the mirror again, and noticed his mane and tail were losing their majestic sheen again. His coat, though still magnificent, was a slight shade of grey. His eyes were slowly looking glazed, as though he were blinded. His face was drawn in like a deflated balloon, and his eye sockets were made clearly visible underneath his skin.

He went to the toilet, looking inside of the bowl. So many times he had searched for companionship, yet he either found them appalling or horrifyingly dirty. Yet that fling in Saddle Arabia had been the most important relationship of his life; it helped him discover his new love, though he would never admit it aloud. This toilet was his only true friend. It helped him forget things, either as far back as a few years ago or as recent as lunch. He talked to it sometimes, and it sometimes even spoke back. He kept it immaculately clean, always shining brightly no matter what disgusting acts might be done on it.

He spoke to his companion. "Good morning, friend. How are you today?"

The toilet's one piece flush tower gurgled slightly. He placed his hooves on the seat, smiling at the reflection in the tank. It was of him, but his mane and coat were illustriously radiant. His horn shined brightly like a beacon, and his teeth looked like freshly polished marble. His eyes looked like sapphires, gleaming with delight. He turned again to the normal mirror, frowning when he saw he was still in his muted, less amazing colors.

"What troubles you, my friend?" He turned to the toilet, his own reflected face giving him a look of concern. He had given up deciding whether or not this visage of himself was real or not; he only cared that it gave him company, as well as instruction.

"Oh, you know. The usual." He casually rested his foreleg on the seat, resting his face on his hoof. "It's so hard to keep looking good, you know?"

His toilet-reflection nodded. "I know it quite well. I have only you to thank for keeping me so clean!"

He chuckled. "No worries at all, my good friend. You're far more important that you realize." He paused to think. "You're very dear to me. Keeping you clean is a pleasure." This was a difficult thing to say, even if it was something as wonderful as his own face. He had driven away so many ponies lately that he had nearly forgotten what a friend really was. He didn't care though; he had the toilet. That was all he needed. That was all he wanted.

His reflection smiled, tears starting to slowly well up. "Thank you, Prince Blue Blood." It coughed, trying to mask it's happiness. "Well, are you ready for your session?"

Blue Blood sighed, nodding his head. "Yes, I am."

"Good. Now, retrieve your tool."

Blue Blood levitated a fresh toothbrush over to his face. This one, however, had a longer handle.

His toilet spoke, but in a more grim and serious manner as it's voice deepened to a very low bass. "Now, open that from which we speak while placing thy dewberry on the edge of thy tongue."

He did so, opening his mouth and bracing for the pain soon to follow. He never understood why the voice always turned so deep and regal whenever his sessions began. It used to scare him at first, but now the trembling bass of his reflection's voice was actually soothing to listen to, like a Manticore purring in a massive cave.

"Now, push thy dewberry into the depths of thy mouth, searching for thy uvula. At which hour thee find the uvula, flip it upward until gagging commences."

This was his the worst part of it all. Trying to find it was painful, especially considering the amount of pressure needed to delicately flip up the small little bubble without causing damage. He had learned that the first few times, yet he often accidentally put in a bit more force than needed. It required a lot of explaining to mummy and daddy as to why he had nearly drowned in his own blood, which ended up with them putting him in therapy. He had easily silver-tongued his way out of it, and he still practiced his technique every session, getting better every time.

Slowly, he slid the brush handle against his tongue. He felt the cold material eventually warm up as his saliva coated it, his taste buds welcoming the familiar taste of plastic and nylon. He lifted the brush delicately and pressed it against the back of his throat. It ached, so much so he wanted to cough and spit.

Just like before, Blue Blood. Just like the last one. And the one before that. And the one before that. And the one before that...

He lightly flipped the handle, missing his target. He was starting to gag, and he nearly pulled the brush out. When his toilet gave him a disapproving look, he resumed his search. Sure enough, he found it once again. He gently placed it on top of the tip of the handle, then settled it into place. He awaited his toilets command.

"Now, thou must flippeth thine uvula until the vomitus has been expelled from thine body." He paused, leaning his head in and raising an eyebrow. "Remember, this is for thine own good."

Prince Blue Blood counted down in his mind, preparing himself for the familiar pain.

3, 2... 1.

The reaction was nearly instant. He pulled the toothbrush away and threw it towards the sink, not caring where it landed. The warm liquid boiled in his belly, churning and pulsating with every millisecond that passed. His throat reacted violently, creating a guttural sound like that of a bullfrog crying out in pain. His eyes watered, blinding him and making him close his eyes. The minute they did, the bile within him spewed forth like a waterfall. There wasn't much there today. He had eaten dinner an hour ago, so his stomach had plenty of time to let the food digest and break down. It all came out so easily, yet still burned like fire. Chunks splattered the insides of the toilet, splashing around violently and causing bits to fly onto Blue Bloods face. The brown liquid stunk like carrots, celery and ranch dressing, and some chunks of almond nuts followed suit.

He paused, catching his breath. He knew this would be short lived though, and made the most of it. He cleared his throat, wiping away the tears with one hoof, the vomit on his face with another. His reflection looked down on him, grinning in satisfaction.

Another wave of dreck boiled in his stomach, but something was wrong. His heart was beating much faster than normal, and he felt ready to faint. He fell to one side, unable to support himself anymore out of sheer exhaustion. He cried out in agony as every fiber of his body ached, his stomach fumbling with it's leftover cargo. He felt his body seize up, unable to move as his heart raced faster and faster. He looked around frantically, his eyes darting from place to place. He wanted to call for help, to scream. His throat felt like an elephant was sitting on it, a mass amount of pressure closing his windpipe.

The vomit was ready to leave his body, but his throat would not let it pass. His mouth seized shut, more out of pain than lack of control. Whatever vomit did pierce it's way through only stayed in his shut mouth, pooling until his cheeks were fit to burst. They strained until muscle fibers started to tear, causing internal damage to his already withered face. Finally, the pressure of it all exploded forth in a blast of bile and blood, the mixture pooling around his head. He started shaking violently, convulsing into different poses as he whimpered in pain. His throat opened, allowing him to call out for help. A large Unicorn Royal Guard charged through the door, breaking the frame loose and running towards the Prince while calling out his name in concern. He called out to the ponies outside to get an ambulance chariot, but Blue Blood's vision faded into blackness as he started to feel all warmth leave him. He felt himself floating away, looking down below him at the scene.

There was a sad, shriveled looking Unicorn laying on the ground covered in blood and other vile fluids, surrounded by other ponies who were lifting him up with their magic. He looked at the Unicorns face, and felt sadness overwhelm him. Suddenly, the shriveled thing smiled slightly as his mane and tail turned bright gold. The dull layer of film over his eyes faded, revealing sapphire orbs for eyes. The coat was as white as a new layer of fresh snow, and his horn was freshly polished and gleaming like a lighthouse beacon. Blue Blood smiled down at the body, then faded into nothingness.

At last, he was clean. At last, he was pure.

And after all... cleanliness is next to godliness.

***