OC SlamJam - The Battle to be Best Pony

The stairwell seemed so much larger at night. Loud Mouth was halfway down – only four floors left – but it still felt daunting. Her hooves landed heavily on the steps, and she walked slowly, promising herself that no, really, tomorrow she'd tell Whammy Bar the truth: that she'd let that grey unicorn stallion steal Whammy's necklace without so much as a fight.

But that was for tomorrow – it was already two in the morning. Loud Mouth had run out of ways to distract herself, so she continued the trudge back home to another sleepless night spent fighting the pillow.

She was deep in thought, pondering her the advice from one of her workshops (It's never too late to make things right!), so she didn't notice another set of hooves clacking against the steps a few floors below. However, as soon as Loud Mouth set hoof on the landing for the third floor, she spotted a large stallion with a grey coat at the bottom of the next flight.

"EEK!" Loud Mouth jumped back against the wall and froze, her thoughts racing. It's him! He's back!

The stallion barely reacted. He slowly lifted his head toward Loud Mouth.

As she stared, the icy terror in her stomach was replaced by a warm blush of her cheeks. This stallion's mane was dark blue, not brown, and he didn't have a horn. It wasn't the same pony.

Loud Mouth took a tentative step forward. "I-I'm sorry. You… You startled me."

The stallion was an earth pony, and a large one at that. He wore a light blue collared shirt, but it was a complete mess. It was wrinkled and smeared with dirt, and his coat looked no better. His deep blue mane wasn't combed, either. In fact, he looked like he'd just woken up. He frowned. His eyelids drooped, and the color had drained from his face. The eyes seemed hollow and dull with nothing behind them. Looking into them, Loud Mouth felt a wave of sadness wash over her heart – they were just like her own eyes these days.

"I apologize," he said in a low, raspy baritone, devoid of energy.

"It's…" Loud Mouth took a deep breath (It reduces stress!). "It's alright. I-I just thought you were somepony else."

The stallion didn't respond. Instead, he climbed to the third floor and fished some keys out of his pocket. "Excuse me." Loud Mouth stepped aside, and the stallion sluggishly unlocked the door and trudged in, letting it close lazily behind him.

Loud Mouth stood paralyzed for several minutes. His eyes had bothered her. Nopony should look that way, she thought. Maybe he needs somepony to talk to? Oh, but of *course** I didn't speak up when I had the chance. You could have finally done some good, Loud, and you blew it. You're such a–*

She glanced to her side and saw that the door had caught on the latch.

For just a moment, her heart fluttered. She looked down the stairs and thought about the futility of pretending to sleep. Yes, he certainly needs somepony to talk to. She knew it was an empty gesture, an excuse to distract herself just a little longer, but it was enough. She slipped through the door.

Inside, she found herself in a dimly-lit reception area that smelled of stale air and too much cleaner. A large logo of a building with the words "Build It Higher!" was fastened to the wall. Her eyes adjusted to the dark, and she peeked around a corner to see a soul-crushingly grey cubicle farm. Only one cubicle had its lights on, and from it, she heard a sound like rattling wood.

Loud Mouth walked slowly into the maze of grey offices and called out weakly. "Hello? Sir, are you all right?"

The clacking wood stopped for a moment, then continued.

"You looked a little rough. Is everything all right?" She stepped around the corner of the cubicle and looked inside.

Blueprints littered the floor. The stallion sat hunched over a low table, and on it was a large wooden crate. Inside were colorful wooden blocks in many sizes and shapes, their paint showing wear from years of use. The stallion was examining the edge of a red rectangle in his hooves, slowly turning it over right in front of his face.

"Sir?"

He set the block down in a neat little row with a few others. His voice was shaky, tired. "Please excuse me, ma'am. I'm… I'm very busy."

Loud Mouth took half a step forward and cocked an eyebrow. She said flatly, "You're… playing with blocks."

The stallion stopped and sat motionless, fixated on the blocks. He stared at the crate for a long time, then looked at Loud Mouth. After a beat, he looked back at the crate, then back to her. He examined her up and down.

"Would–" He cleared his throat. Even with his low baritone voice, he still sounded like a foal when he asked, "Would you like to play?"

Loud Mouth paused. He's clearly unstable.

However, something inside her took pity. She nodded. "Sure." Stepping over the blueprints, she walked to the opposite side of the little table and sat down.

The stallion didn't say anything. He just continued taking individual pieces out of the box, looking them over and separating them, though Loud Mouth couldn't discern what made each row distinct. They seemed to be sorted randomly.

Loud Mouth fidgeted in the silence. "So… what brings you to the office so late, mister…" She glanced around the cubicle, spying a nameplate hanging on the wall. "Mister Artisan?"

He didn't look up. "Call me Ace."

"Sure thing, Ace," she said with some artificial bounce in her voice (Everypony loves positivity!). "You look like you've had a rough day, but maybe I can help. What happened?"

The stallion didn't acknowledge her. He reached into the box and grabbed another rectangle, testing its weight.

"You can talk to me, Ace. Strangers make the best confidants."

Ace's eyes flickered up at Loud Mouth, almost like he was glaring at her. However, he quickly resumed his work.

Her heart skipped a beat at that look – far too much like a certain security guard for comfort – but she maintained her composure. Handle emotional situations delicately. Oh, and remember that proper posture shows respect!

Loud Mouth sat up straight. "It's a very nice block set. I must admit, though, it's a bit strange to see it in such a professional setting. Not many–"

"My little brother gave them to me after graduation. I'm an architect." He nudged a block slightly to bring it perfectly in line with the others. "They help me think."

"Oh? About what?"

Ace paused, then slowly pushed a few blocks to the center of the table.

Loud Mouth tried to keep eye contact, but the coldness in Ace's expression kept her turned away. Instead, she ignored the tightness in her chest and focused on the blocks.

It seemed foalish to her at first, a grown stallion playing with toys, but the more she watched, the harder it was to look away. Ace's hooves moved slowly, but with great purpose. He set two blocks side-by-side very precisely. They appeared flush, but Ace gave a few quick taps to the block on the right, moving it almost imperceptibly closer to its mate. He then tapped the opposite side twice, and the blocks somehow seemed closer than they had been a moment ago. Loud Mouth blinked a few times – they were perfectly aligned.

She watched as Ace made a large square of red, blue, and yellow blocks with seemingly no gaps between them. His dexterity stunned her, hypnotized her, and she felt herself leaning in more and more as Ace stacked blocks along the outside edge, interlocking like bricks. He chose each block carefully, and soon, he'd made a cube, complete with long blocks to enclose the top.

Loud Mouth nearly complimented his craftsponyship, but Ace quickly reached for more. He methodically built a second cube on top of the first. His structure was two stories tall, and he carefully lined the top with triangular blocks, setting them in place and nudging them with only the slightest disturbance to the base.

She saw it now: a picture-perfect house. He'd used every block that he'd set aside.

Loud Mouth leaned back. The lamp on Ace's desk shone down on a perfect little wooden home, square in its design and as solid-looking as the building they sat in.

Ace let out a slow breath, leaning back from his hunched position. He cleared his throat again. "I should have added another layer of bricks to the first floor. It would have opened up the entryway. There's some space at the southwest corner as well, too, and that won't do if disaster strikes."

Loud Mouth blinked and shook her head. She craned her neck and examined each of the corners. "What are you talking about? It looks perfect!"

Ace frowned. "It's not good enough."

Cocking her head to the side, Loud Mouth asked, "Why not?"

Ace blinked away a tear. "Because it's not perfect. It's never going to be perfect, and I promised…" He slumped. "I promised Nocturne I'd build her the perfect house."

Oh, dear. I know that look. She spoke softly. "I'm sorry. Is she… all right?"

Ace shrugged. "I suppose. She's… angry, though."

Loud Mouth thought back to the relationship seminar, a well-attended talk she'd given about three weeks prior. What was the advice? 'Relationships take time, and that means time together!' Yes, that's it. Now, make sure he knows you empathize.  She nodded and put on a showy, plastic frown. "Ah, I've seen this before. Too much time at the office, maybe?"

Ace looked up for a moment, the hint of scowl on his face. "I was out late tonight." Under his breath, he mumbled "again" before continuing. "Something important came up at work, and I had to help a friend. Or… she had to help me, rather." He brushed some of the dried mud off of his shirt. "Loam helped me straighten out my priorities, and I felt terrible, so I rushed home to tell Nocturne how much I appreciate her, but when I got there…" He trailed off.

He's opening up. Well done, Loud. "It's okay. Go on."

"She was… sobbing." Ace's lip quivered, and his voice cracked. "I-I never wanted to make her sad. And then I tried to tell her, but she said I was making excuses again, and I told her I'd fix it, but she just kept crying." His words came out faster and faster. "And then everything gets hazy and she's shouting and I'm shouting and telling her that I love her and she's shouting that she loves me but she doesn't feel like she's worth anything to me and she says–" Ace swallowed and blinked rapidly. He said, more slowly, "She says she wants to take a break, and she leaves with a small bag of her things." He looked down at the house of blocks. "And it's because I'm not good enough."

Loud Mouth felt a swelling in her chest and only a small pang of guilt at her internal glee. Finally, she'd be able to help somepony. She could make a positive difference.

She took a deep breath. First, mirror his feelings. "It sounds like you really care about her, and you're afraid that this little break might turn into something bigger." Don't forget to ask questions. "Is that right?"

Ace's expression twisted into something like a weak snarl. "Yeah."

Open-ended questions. Keep him talking. "What would you like to happen?"

Ace sighed, still looking at his creation. "I want to be with her, and I want her to be happy with me." He half-chuckled. "And I want to keep my promise and build her the perfect house. Home. The perfect home."

Loud Mouth put on her warmest smile and nodded slowly. "That would be very nice." Now, connect it back to what's important. "And what do you think Nocturne wants?"

Ace pursed his lips, and his tone got a touch sharper. "She wants to feel supported. Nocturne has a career to think about, too – she's a singer at the Conservatory, and I've only ever missed one of her shows."

Ah, now we're getting to the root of it. "And why did you miss it?"

"Work." Ace glared, and Loud Mouth felt a chill in her heart. She shrunk back, and something ate at her insides. Ace was giving off some kind of vibe, something she didn't like.

Never get angry when you're listening. "Well, then I can understand her frustration, but you know, everypony makes mistakes. In time, I'm sure she'll understand that."

"That's the thing, though." His voice had gotten softer, and he traced little circles on the table with his hoof. "I'm not entirely convinced it was a mistake." His shoulders sank. "At least, I didn't think so at the time. We both know how important this project is for me, for us." He moved his hoof to a corner of the house. "But I let that get in the way of what was important. I don't deserve her."

With a flick of his hoof, he knocked away a corner block.  It slid over to Loud Mouth's side of the table with a hollow scratching noise. Loud Mouth snapped her attention to the block house, but it remained solid.

She frowned. Don't think like that, Ace. It only makes your life miserable. I would know. She forced herself to smile and look up at him. "Ace, we both know that isn't true." She didn't, but her training and experience told her that this was what ponies needed to hear. "You sound very devoted, both to your work and your marefriend. You just need to prioritize." She fished around in her mind for something to lighten the mood. "Unless you really want to marry your work!"

Ace rolled his eyes.

Everypony loves a good laugh! She giggled with a little, "Hm-hm!"

Ace ignored her. "There's more. Her friends…" His hoof moved toward the northeast corner of the house.

Loud Mouth started to reach out a hoof to stop him, but she hesitated.

"Nocturne's got so many friends. She says they like me, but I'm… They always seem uncomfortable when I'm around, like I'm a pariah. Like I'm…" His eyes flickered up to his forehead, then back to the table. His body sagged. "Like I'm not really one of them." He flicked away another block, which tipped off the edge of the table and knocked against the floor.

The house had shifted slightly. Loud Mouth could see a few spaces between the blocks.

She cleared her throat, and nodded. "I know what you mean. It can be tough to fit in. I'm certainly not the prettiest mare around, and I'm too gangly, and things haven't always gone my way, but it doesn't get me down."

Liar. She shook off that thought and tried to replace it. Remember, relate your advice to something they can–

"Oh!"

Ace's head snapped up, and his drooping eyes shot open. "What?"

Loud Mouth smiled wide. "It's like your house!" She pointed down to it. "You've built a strong foundation, and look! It's survived some pretty big blunders. You just need to repair it, and it will be good as new."

Perfect! Loud Mouth smiled from ear to ear.

Ace's eyes narrowed, and he spoke with hardly any inflexion. "Yes, I am aware that it's a metaphor. Why do you think I'm finding it so cathartic to take apart?"

Loud Mouth felt a lump in her throat that made it difficult to speak, and her smile quickly faded. "Uh, well… still…"

Ace's voice was even, if a little rough. "I'm not an idiot, and I would thank you not to talk down to me so much."

He doesn't understand. These techniques really work! She leaned forward with a hoof on the table. "Ace, I'm sorry if I've offended, but you really should listen to what I'm saying. I've got lots of experience helping ponies."

Well, *trying** to help.*

When Loud Mouth didn't get a response, she said, "Let's start over. I don't think I've even introduced myself. My name is–"

"Loud Mouth."

She sat bolt upright, eyes wide. "O-oh! I'm sorry, I guess I must have forgotten that I'd… already told you?" The conversation replayed in her head, but she couldn't remember doing so.

"You didn't."

"Silly me, then." Loud Mouth looked down at her body. "Did I leave my nametag on myself again or–"

Ace spoke in rapid, clipped words. "You're a public speaker. You give talks in the auditorium downstairs. Three weeks ago, you spoke about mending relationships."

His tone didn't register, or perhaps it did and she refused to acknowledge it. In either case, she allowed herself a glimmer of joy as she imagined Ace and Nocturne leaving her seminar hoof in hoof. "Oh! Did it help?"

Maintaining eye contact, Ace reached over to his left, and knocked away the third cornerstone.

It took a moment to sink in, but when it did, Loud Mouth felt herself collapse. Her muscles went slack, and her head hung low.

"Heh-heh," Ace chuckled bitterly. "See? Cathartic."

The office was quiet, save for the buzz of the desk lamp and Loud Mouth's increasingly heavy breathing.

She tried to recall some piece of advice that could save the day, but her thoughts kept looping over and over. This was foolish. I'm a failure, and I've never really helped anypony. I just take up space and make things worse. I'm a failure.

Loud Mouth tried to speak, but only a squeak came out.

Ace mumbled something.

Loud Mouth managed to look up for a moment to see Ace blushing, his head turned away. "I said I apologize. That was unnecessarily cruel."

There was a long, uncomfortable beat, one that Loud Mouth felt she had to break. "It's all right," she whispered. I deserved it.

She waited. She wanted him to say that it was okay, that he was wrong and that she'd really been able to help him. She held her breath.

Ace didn't respond.

Loud Mouth, with creased brows and desperation in her voice, leaned forward. "But… it was at least a little helpful, right?"

Ace flicked his tail. "I'm sorry, but no."

"N-not even a little?"

Ace chewed on his tongue for a moment. "I know you mean well, and I can't imagine your work is easy, but we spent a lot of bits to hear rehashed platitudes and clichés. It was clear to me, at least, that your heart wasn't in it, like you were just parroting advice you'd rehearsed a thousand times."

Loud Mouth tried to will herself out of existence. She went rapidly over her most recent speeches: the relationship seminar, the time management course, and even this very conversation. Her eyes stung. "I'm… I'm sorry."

Ace continued, a slight edge to his voice. "I told Nocturne I didn't think it had been worth it, and she got angry. She thought I didn't care enough about our relationship to at least try to fix it, but everything you told us was, frankly, tired advice."

In any relationship, both parties need to talk *and** listen.* Her thoughts were automatic, but she felt grateful that she couldn't bring herself to vocalize them. Grateful, and sad.

Ace snorted, looking like a guard on his third consecutive shift. "Look, you've clearly had a bad day as well, and I'm sorry, but I'm no therapist." He roughly ran a hoof through his mane. "Trust me, there are ti–"

As he set his hoof down, he knocked the table. The house wobbled for a moment, then clattered down into a multicolored pile with very little ceremony.

A moment later, Ace's forehead met the tabletop with a thud, and after a groan, he mumbled into his chest, "Yeah, it's always the little things."

With Ace's eyes off of her, Loud Mouth felt safe enough to wipe a tear from her eye. "I'm… I'm sorry that my seminar was no good."

Ace brought his head away from his chest and rested his chin on the table. He looked at the pile of blocks, but his eyes didn't focus. They still looked cold and lifeless.

"I-I wish there were something I could do to help, but I…"

Ace stared at her with his dead eyes. He grumbled, "I said I'm not your therapist."

Loud Mouth felt cold. "No," she said mechanically. "No, I suppose not. I'm…" She stood up and looked around, quickly mumbling, "I'm sorry for wasting your time."

Ace sighed. "It's alright. Sorry for being such an ass. It's… been a bad day."

Loud Mouth took one last look at the blueprints scattered around her. She felt empty. This was the time that the advice she'd memorized was supposed to matter most, but try as she might, she couldn't recall anything. What do you say when your words don't mean anything?

She settled on, "I hope things get better." It would have to do.

"Thank you."

As she turned to leave, her eyes fell on a blueprint on the floor. Much like the block house, it was elegantly designed and looked very solid.

She didn't know why – maybe she didn't care, maybe she still wanted to make it right, or maybe she was just being honest – but the words fell out of her mouth. "I'm sure you don't want to hear anything else from me – heck, I wouldn't – but for what it's worth, I think you're a great architect."

With his chin still on the table, Ace raised an eyebrow.

"It's sad to see one of your structures collapse, yes, but… well, you can always rebuild it."

Ace sat up, though his head still hung low. "Maybe, but… It wouldn't be the same."

Loud Mouth blinked a few times, then shrugged. "No, no it wouldn't, but maybe you can make it better this time." She looked over to a picture on his desk: Ace in a tuxedo, smiling next to a purple unicorn mare in a lovely black dress. "Maybe you can make it perfect."

Ace's eyes opened a little wider, and just for a moment, she saw a small glimmer within.

It was enough. Loud Mouth, stepping over the papers on the floor, said a quiet, "Good night, Ace, and good luck."

Loud Mouth walked out of the cubicle. She made her way to the reception area, and she yawned. No, she didn't know if she'd sleep that night or be able to tell Whammy Bar the truth in the morning, but for a moment, she didn't feel quite as bad.

As she lifted a hoof to the exit, she paused. A small, tired smile spread across her face as she heard the faraway sound of wooden building blocks gently knocking together.