Chapter 1: The First Party 1
Chapter 1: The First Party 1 • The Usual ”Door to Nose” Introduction
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“I want to give you the sky,
A world of dreams where wonders soar beyond our senses...
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“get out…”
“Huh?”
“Get out.”
“What?”
“getoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetoutGETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUT!”!”
“What did I say?”
“I already know I’m broken, you don’t need to say it! I can see on your face, I can see on Raine’s face, I see it on everybody’s face!”
“I was just trying to make you smile…”
“hahahaHaHaHaHaHaHaHaHAHAHAHA! Here’s your smile… here’s your DAMN smile!”
“You’re just a little frizzled. I’ll get you up like a pup in no…”
*SLAP*
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Over time the stars played hide and seek with the sky, the end result being the sky finally giving in and the sun peaked over the giants known as mountains. The breath of the morning coursing through the windows of the cottages, relieving the ponies inside of their peaceful slumber, was as calming as a marzipan cake crash landing on the floor. The sun was as guilty of disturbing the irritable ponies of their well deserved respite. The sun’s glimmer streaked the windows with a blazing edge and tore through the eyelids of every unfortunate pony with a bedside window.
There was much reason for the lack of hoopla and hubbub, that day was different from other days. It was most likely because it was right after Pinkie Pie’s All Night Night Party. A marvel indeed to witness the camaraderie of the ponies who collectively groaned, with rhythm and rhyme…
“Celestia, why must you make the sun so bright!?”
The sun was truly domineering in that one aspect, its rays pouring down the eyelids of every citizen of Ponyville with its creasing hooves. The more the sun didn’t let up, the more it was enforcing the resolve of every pony desiring that singular thought.
That thought of doing what Nightmare Moon failed to do… make the night eternal.
Alas, normal ponies can’t do what a nigh goddess can’t so the majority had to sluggishly slip out of their comfort zones, with their flanks off their beds and their hooves cursing their windows. A select few decided to embrace the day with a slight hangover, maybe some hot chocolate and, in some unfortunate cases, more cider. Yes, no normal pony could get out of bed with a smile on their face.
“It’s another great day!”
Apparently Pinkie Pie was quite the fan of dramatic irony.
As if a spring was in her body, the party pony propelled off the bed, launching her to the air like a rocket with too much fuel in storage. She scrunched her eyebrows, suspended in space, thinking whether Luna had these kinds of otherworldly experiences when she was on the moon. After the space fantasy ended with her bouncing off mission control, the floor, she relaxed her shoulders and twisted her neck for the feel of that early morning creak of perspective.
The eternally chipper pony decided to re-establish the conditions of her headquarters, her eyes darting from one angle of the room to the other. After her eyes shot from every possible direction capable for normal ponies, she decided to mix it up, 360, 180 and finally the best for last, 42 degrees. That uncanny angle gave sight to a familiar companion of the room, a certain green alligator, with his tummy on the chest shifting with only the energy reserved for breathing.
“Good morning, Gummy! How about that party?”
Gummy’s left eyelid jilted with the dullest of movements. His mouth expanded with the most apathetic of yawns. He only let the slightest groan and hiss escape to let Pinkie Pie know he was awake.
“I know, right? I think last night’s party was so great, we should do another party!”
The baby alligator’s back bristled with his scales aglow with the liveliness of a lame goat. His face cracked with the touch of stirrings. The purple hue of those wide, unblinking eyes focused on a certain ‘special’ pony with a lazy shine.
“Yea, I’ll hand out the invitations after baking, thanks Gummy!”
Gummy, with a shrug of indifference, went about his usual routine of slapping his tail from one side of the chest to the other and staring into the spaces of Pinkie Pie’s dimension.
Pinkie Pie, with a smile that stretched as wide as a mile, chose to skip her way through her room and downstairs. With respect to the other guests, still snoring like the ovens that would awaken soon, she did a jolly little skip as she made her usual trip across the Cakes’ bedrooms. She made sure to zip her lip to disturb not the peace of the castle housing the party pony, an ironic sentiment indeed. The air echoed a silence to her every unspoken step, even through those creaking stairs.
The sight of pots, measuring cups and the blueprints of her “perfect cakes” and the smell of flour, greeted her eyes and ears to the sight to the confectioner’s workshop. She finally unzipped the zipper that was her lip with her right hoof. A mess of baking bins, a pile of unorganized flour and the icing with a lingering attachment to the floor prompted Pinkie Pie’s mind on what needed to be done.
On one hoof, she had to make some Marshmallow Munchies for breakfast, on the other hoof, she needed to clean the kitchen lickety split, on another hoof, she had to clean the baking bins, on yet another hoof she felt she had to clean the oven, and on one more hoof she felt she needed to admit to spiking the cider last night with hot sauce.
Things get really bad when you have five hooves…
The baker was about to start with the obvious choice, the hot sauce fiasco, when the entire world froze with only her mind moving and at the speed of Pinkie at that.
Wait, how does a lickety split? Does the lickety split in two? Well, lickety rhymes with visually and visuals go with stories so two stories? That’s silly, we have three stories!
The world resumed activity and the perpetually smiling mare, with a bounce off her mane and a skip in her step, started to canter over to the front door when a twitchy, perhaps a jerky, sensation overtook her back. A tingle of epileptic fits seized her back and took control of her mind.
I wonder how today’s gonna be my lucky day? Maybe it’s about my party today! Maybe I’m gonna perfect my cake today? Maybe it’s the baking that’s gonna be lucky? Wait… that’s silly! Baking can’t be lucky, I’m the one getting the twitches-a-twitching!
With every part of her body as stiff unlike her back, the mare of a thousand smiles raked her mind. She was using the thought process of one plus one equaling ecstasy to figure out her dilemma. Finally the fits stopped, her back as still as the rest of her body and her mind going at the speed of Pie now. Suddenly, she realized a matter of dire importance and jolted her head to the time lord of the area. A clinking sound was the only sound for the party pony’s impromptu movements.
5:00.
The truth would have to wait, she had pastries to bake! With that thought, she jolted to the kitchen, letting the cupboard doors fling open with a flourish. The cupboards creaked with the sound of age. She fished out her baking apron from the corners of the cupboards. She examined the companion. An apron, once the sign of a newborn hatchling, now adorned with the sight of experience, fresh icing sticking comfortably on her apron. She got the other partner involved with her baking capers, her comically puffy hat. This hat wasn’t anything particularly special in terms of usage. Any normal pony would purchase a new one and be content with that.
Not Pinkie Pie.
She kept it like an old mare would for a precious memory. Despite the low prices of a new one, she would never do so. The happiness this aged, wrinkled hat gave her and would keep giving her was already priceless. She examined the two partners in her baking ventures. She gave a satisfied nod and started to wonder about the new day as her baking apron fitted comfortably with her shoulders and her comically puffy baking hat resting snugly on her head with a sharp snug and tug.
But before she got on with her day, she stopped.
That dream, that vividly real dream.
She had never seen anything like it. It wasn’t something that came out of a normal day in her life that was for sure. Fear shot through her veins as much as sugar, spice and everything nice. At the very least, she had never experienced anything like this. She was feeling a sort of bittersweet taste towards it, kind of like an Ever forest cake. If there was one thing that felt a little off, it was that eerie connection she felt with the pony apologizing and in the pony screaming…
Despair.
She felt anger in that voice but it wasn’t strictly directed at the other pony. What lengths did one have to go for that kind of anguish in that throat, the throbbing of those shoulders and those pouring tears? Was it disdain? Was it sadness? Or was it resentment beyond her control? Pinkie Pie questioned only one thing.
Why so frowny-wowy? Maybe a party would turn that frown upside down! Hmmm... but I don’t know when they’ll come back. Maybe next time they’ll come, I’ll surprise them with a party!
Pinkie contemplated ways to recall back the pony in her dreams. The best she could come up with was sleeping at night time. Since those ponies were in her dreams at night time, they must only be awake at night time! The thoughtful pony considered alternate possibilities.
Twilight knows bunches of magic, maybe she can help me! Oh... but she’s with Applejack at the Apploosa Apple Assembly! I’m not sure if Rarity knows that kind of magic and I can’t talk it out with Rainbow Dash, she’s camping out for those Wonderbolt tickets! Maybe Fluttershy could lend an ear? Wait, how do you lend an ear? You can only lend somepony your attention!
A thudding sound crashed through her thoughts. Pinkie Pie turned to the sight of a bag of flour sprawled on the floor, a fidgeting feeling as the flour shifted inside accompanied the impact. Pinkie Pie snapped out of her stupor, it was decided. She would ask Twilight when she got back. Her eyebrows went rigid, her eyes gazing at the work to be done. The time for baking was now.
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I want to give you the earth,
An expanse of where reality resides, extending across the horizon...
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“Ta-da! It’s your surprise party!”
“ “
“You sure we weren’t being too obvious?”
“Ah doubt it. Look she’s chokin’ up with joy!”
“ “
“Ah, I guess she can’t take all the awesome!”
“Huh, they never taught me you could faint from a surprise party...”
“Ah, girls, I think it’s more than that...”
“!”
“Oh no...”
“Call 911!”
“Come on, it’s just temporary, wake up, wake up...”
“What are we gonna do!?”
“Great idea, let’s panic, when has that ever gone wrong?”
“ “
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With a snap of the conscious, Fluttershy’s head snapped forth with a pounding sensation. The dream wasn’t the only reason for the sweat on her brow. Then was a splitting headache, the feeling she got when having her lips meet a jug of cider. The window beside her bed wasn’t helping in that regard. With a snapping yawn, wincing at the sound of her voice, she started to slide off her bed. The first thing she had to deal with was trying to figure out what happened last night. She started for the washroom to splash some sense into herself.
She trotted to the washroom with a fatigued step. Her mind was not in the best shape to cross mountains now. The image of her bath soaps and various brushes helped her mind know where she was. The first thing she did was look into the mirror. As her eyes adjusted to the sight in the mirror, her mind was still the drunken stupor it was. What she saw sobered her sense of sight straight.
What did happen last night...?
To say she looked like a train wreck would be an honest-to-Celestia compliment.
Her hair was in disarray, various strands of hair sticking out in uneven angles. The strawberry that was her face was blushing furiously with the mark of shame. She was covered in so much sweat that she wouldn’t be surprised if she could supply a school with one day’s water. The worst part of it all though, was what was on her face. It seems like somepony decided to play Rarity in the misapplying of makeup. A few streaks here and there, an awkward hoof with eyeliner totally missing the mark with a dash of mascara to outline her cheeks, maybe it was better that Fluttershy forgot what happened last night.
Oh my... I guess I’ll ask Pinkie Pie to go easy on the cider next party…
The first thing she decided to get rid of was the mascara, turning the faucet on to apply warm water onto her hooves, preparing to exorcise the mess on her face. A rub here and then and the obvious blemishes were gone, save for the resilient eyeliner. She decided to take a more direct approach and applied the soap with a gentle touch before scrubbing her face clean of the mess that was her current face.
Now, the hair was next. She examined her weary condition. Her sagging eyes, her limping mane and her shaky legs were the sights she needed to affirm her decision. Perhaps it was best to take a bath altogether.
Fluttershy moved the shower curtains and settled to compose herself. Her hooves turned the dial of warmth. The initial wince of scalding water meeting her fur subsided with the feel of warm water soothing her body. As the water soothed every part of her body, her thoughts started to drift towards that dream.
I hope she’s okay... I wish I could do something to help her...
Only the Element of Kindness could ever think about the sadness of a dream as something to be cuddled, to be cared for.
Next time she comes back, I’ll get her a blanket to rest with…
Only the Element of Kindness could ever think that all somepony needed was bed rest to make all the little troubles disappear.
Fluttershy thought more carefully about the dream, she thought she heard her friends but there seemed to be a difference between them and these recognizable strangers. Who were these ponies anyway? Her last thought about the dream was who that seventh pony was. She recognized the voices of every other pony there, even if they weren’t technically the same pony, but that last pony was an outsider to her memory and ears. Did she meet him at one point? If she did, the memory of him was out of her reach.
Finally, she decided to focus on the things that needed to be taken care of. The sound of the soft cleanser squeezing through the bottle was accompanied by the pouring of droplets. She began grooming her hair with the all-natural shampoo draped on her hooves. The awkward angles of the strands became lustrous meadows of pink. Her hair was straightened and arranged by hooves accustomed to the care of many manes aside from hers. The last strand straightened, the pony turned the nozzle to let the last droplet down. She got out with a clearer head and examined her appearance once more.
She no longer looked like the pony worrying over the proof of last night’s party. She looked like the pony that came into the party with a sheepish smile and a surprising itch to go talk with new ponies.
Oh goodness, next time I’ll pass on the cider…
She stepped out the washroom and looked through her window. The sky was greying with the clouds gathering in one group. The land felt like a chill had took over. The apathetic shrug of the clouds gave only the slightest hint of a forthcoming few teary days.
I should get everypony back inside…
With a self-affirming nod, she walked downstairs, the stairs groaned with the sound of concern. The sound of her hooves pounding the floor louder than usual became a slight issue with her. The animals came first. She could get through everything else that needed to be done afterwards.
The first thing she decided to confirm was the condition of the mice of the house. The tiny caves of hospitality drilled into the house were full with the sound of chatter amongst the creatures of earth. Fluttershy took her time to warn each of the mice individually, or with their families, with the same warning.
“Guys, there’s going to be some rain for a few days so you just stay nice and cozy down there, ok?”
The mice couldn’t be reminded to do what they were planning on doing for the next few days anyway. Still, it was because of the compassion of the pony who took them in. The pony that won their hearts to the kindness in her heart, they knew that it was only because she cared like only she did that she would ask something like this. Every mouse in the house knew how to respond. The squeak of acknowledgement became one chime that rang throughout the entire house.
Fluttershy had a smile on her face of a job well-done. With the air of confidence, she went on with the next task at hoof, warning the birds and the chickens. She also had the rabbits to deal with, especially Angel. The last thing she had to get were the blankets from the laundry line outside. Her friends did come first after all.
She first started with the chicken coop. The rambunctious chucking of the chickens mismatched with the quiet sound of her pleas. She tried to ask them once. She tried getting their attention through requesting over and over again. She even tried pouring some chicken feed to lure the focus on her. The unfortunate part of that plan was the fact they paid attention alright, just not at her.
Finally she decided to go the more direct approach. She planted her feet and with a firm voice, she stopped the rampage of misbehaving fowls.
“Now, guys you wouldn’t want to get your feathers wet, do you?”
The sound of fare fowls stampeding over every inch of ground came to an abrupt end. The assertive techniques that Iron Will had taught her maybe have not been quite right for the amiable pony, but Fluttershy managed to incorporate them into her gentle personality to forge an iron will of her own. It only took a few moments for the chickens to silently return to the tiny abode that was their shelter.
Lucky for her, the birds of flight weren’t as stubborn a problem as the chickens. They were birds that flew. The rain would only hamper their wings. What good was a bird with soaring wings that could not stretch beyond the horizon of the clear skies? It didn’t take long for the birds to make the logical jump when Fluttershy warned them.
The rabbits were quite united in their aversion to the pulse of the rain so that was a simple task.
Angel was another problem altogether.
“Angel, I wouldn’t want you to get all wet from the rain, so why don’t we just stay comfy and warm at home?”
He was as hard as a gemstone in his stubborn nature. He obviously knew going outside was a bad idea, it did go: wet fur = bad day. With the crossed arms of exasperation, however, he ignored the warning like an adult accustomed to not listening to the unneeded advice not to drink the glue that a parent would give to a child. He started for the back door anyway, he was going to go outside whether he wanted to or not. He was capable of making his own decisions and she wasn’t going to stop him from going outside. Fluttershy decided to stand her ground.
“You wouldn’t want to get sick, would you, Angel? Then you’ll have to be in a bed and miss out on the fun you’d have if you didn’t go out now.”
Angel, still unfamiliar with the more assertive Fluttershy despite it being a few months already, had decided to concede this time. The pacing back to the living room proved as much. It wasn’t the pacing of retreating. It was the pacing towards future victory.
Finally, the task of bringing the laundry in seemed to be the last mountain to climb of the morning. It was a good thing too. The pounding sound in her head seemed to be coming back and louder then before. She really wanted to stop the noise to stop from affecting more than just her sight. She went back to the bathroom to collect her laundry basket, her teeth gnawing at the handle.
The backdoor swung open with a quiet moan. The sweat drops were pouring down her forehead like the flow of a furious river. She stomped her steps to keep the pounding sensation away from her ears.
Must be from the cider last night…
The sight of the blankets adorning the clothesline gave her slight respite. Cloths of different colors decorated the line. Brown, yellow, white and green coated the arms of the clothesline with the vibrant hues of nature. One canter later, she plucked them off with a flourish, leaving only the boing of the line being subjected to the necessity of force. She draped them over her cradle of clothes and started to move back.
She had to get these blankets inside quickly, so she could take her time to sort them by necessity and size so that her friends would be more warm and toasty staying inside for the upcoming dewy days. After another pounding sound, she trudged back with the dogged determination of a pony trying to rid herself of an enemy she couldn’t perceive with mind alone.
The opened door lay unused, even after she passed the threshold between the outside and inside. If she wanted to keep listening to the same repetitive sounds, she’d sooner try to listen to one of Twilight’s lectures about aerodynamics. It wasn’t a mean thing per say, it was just that Twilight had a habit of being long-winded in presentation with the same result every time: Fluttershy getting lost in the middle of her speeches about the wonders of the lift-to-drag ratio and having to nod to give the guise of understanding every word of the scholar.
Unfortunately, nature seemed to have its own agenda. A breeze of wind, brought forth by nature’s tactless whims, forced its hand on the wooden door. The door pounded shut, leaving only a harsh taste to the yellow pegasus’ ears in its wake.
Even after the debilitating flash of agony, she trudged forward. She finally found a nice clear spot to set the basket of blankets. After a thoughtless second, the consequence of her mistake came as the basket she dropped made another pounding sound as it slammed onto the floor. That pounding sound in her head became pain itself from then on. The sweat on her brow told of her exercises in control.
Then Angel, started pounding his little paws toward Fluttershy, as his job of reminding his caretaker of anything she forgotten. The worrisome pony winced, that pounding sound was becoming more than just a little annoyance.
“What is it, Angel?”
The pet rabbit made sure to proceed with caution. His owner was a little clueless when it came to these kinds of things, so he kept up with the pounding sound of his stamping thumpers. Fluttershy was starting to see red in her line of sight. She was still hearing the pounding sound, only louder.
“You’re impatient about something, you want something, well I know something’s pounding…”
Her head.
Angel brightened at the knowledge that his owner was getting somewhere with his clues and decided to skip to the next action. He decided to use his paws to latch onto an imaginary grasp the size of his paw and wrench it open.
The pounding sound was fixated to her. The sound was like a parasite that latched onto a fellow animal. The feeling was similar to a flea attached to a dog, the flea getting all the benefits while the dog would be reaping the callousness of the flea. The knocking entity was innocently clueless towards Fluttershy’s growing enmity.
“Your paw’s hurting? Your palm’s stiff? You’re holding onto something?”
Angel was slightly let down by the less than stellar understanding of his owner that time but he went on. He put both arms by his side, went stiff as a wall and using the soles of his thumpers, he turned sideways and back.
Fluttershy could only hear the pounding of the drum in her head being louder and louder. This time, however, the pounding definitely wasn’t coming from Angel. Fluttershy was determined at this point to figure out the repetitive noise.
“You’re turning around, you’re a wall, you want to be a door?”
Angel face pawed that time and simply decided to go straight to the direct method, he forcefully turn his owner with the strength of a griffin around to meet the source of the pounding.
It was the reverberating impact of a hoof to front door. Somepony had been pounding at the door like Rainbow Dash did to, well, everything she could crash into.
Fluttershy should’ve realized sooner. She had been awakened up by a pounding sound. The pound persisted despite the hangover going away. She must have equated the banging of the door with any headaches she thought she had. She didn’t hear any knocking when she was outside. The increase in volume could easily be explained by the pony’s growing concern of being snubbed.
But that means… the pony out there’s been knocking since I’ve woken up!
Fluttershy considered worse possibilities. The thoughts of neglect and carelessness weren’t pretty. They came in a mild flow, and then with every passing second, the floodgates had been slowly breaking loose.
Maybe he’s been knocking for quite a while before I woke up! Maybe he’s been there since I’d gone to sleep! I was pretty out of it last night. Maybe I completely phased out him out since last night! Huuu! Maybe he’d been knocking even earlier than that!
Fluttershy disregarded that last thought though, that was ridiculous, she walked home through the front door and she would have passed him on the way back and met him. The rest of the thoughts were free game though.
Ohhh… What do I do? Do I open the door? But what do I say to him? I’m sorry for leaving you here since last night!? What do I do, what do I say!?
Thoughts of unfounded paranoia were beginning to take root in her thoughts. Her thoughts were starting to infect her when she suddenly realized one important thing that gave her some perspective. The sight of her gruff pet snapped her back to reality.
“Thanks, Angel!” the friend to all of nature told her most precious pet. The air hung with her praise.
Angel could only give a cold shoulder and turn around. As he turned around, however, there was the after shadow of a reluctant smile through his stern demeanor. The signs of the perpetual frowning rabbit not being completely honest with his feelings towards his owner shone through in that instant. He scampered away from the door to avoid seeing his owner’s attempts at apologizing, not wanting to see the inevitable train wreck of his owner humiliating herself.
The weary pony decided to rethink of a more rational explanation to the identity of the pony banging on the door.
Maybe it’s just Rarity asking what happened at the party… no she wouldn’t knock this loud, nor would she wake up this early, she does respect beauty sleep after all. Maybe it’s Pinkie Pie sending out an invitation for another party tonight…
Fluttershy marched silently towards the door. Her mind was set on what she had to do. She just had to own up to what she didn’t do. With a steady hoof, unlike the state of her thoughts, her hooves clutched on the handle of the door and stayed trapped there, her hooves become the handle’s prison. Her mind was stuck on her thoughts much like her hooves on the handle. She was wavering in her resolve.
No! I have to own up to what I did! That’s the right thing to do! I can’t tiptoe around this! Ah, but what if whoever’s outside doesn’t accept my apologies? No, Fluttershy, you can’t stall this forever!
Finally, with an uneasy hoof and her eyes closed, she flung open the door with a boom that suggested more than the minimal force necessary.
One thing was certain.
What her eyes captured in that second was something that shouldn’t have been.
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That’s why I refuse to compromise,
I’ll give you a reality of delights and pleasures,
A world that fits you as much as your smile...
Only you deserve that and more.”
- Pinkie-Pie
Prologue: Embodiment of Smiles
Prologue: The Embodiment of Smiles • Phenomenon of Euphoria
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“My existence is founded on one mare’s smile. I have long existed past my lifetime to sustain it. Do not make me consider your demise as such as well.”
- Pinkie-Pie
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The tearoom had a straining silence to it. The air was suffocating, staling with the age of ten years. The lone pony in the room was staring at a ripple in space. The pony’s hooves on the table, it was a fitting position to witness the world beyond this surface. The window through worlds showed the only thing that could appease the worn smile of the watcher.
That smile.
That pony that would find a way to put a smile on any sad face, the pony that could turn any frown upside down. Maybe she would grace the eyes of the overseer with the sight of her party cannon. A singing telegram could maybe touch the ears once again.
The pony was worn out by time. The observer was stained with the dirt of aging. The spectator from an alien time axis was starting to show the first signs of age this unknown plane had to offer. The crease on the face, the crack of a wrinkle on that ever-smiling face: signs that would start to give the perpetual smiler a case of harsh reality.
The pony with a frozen smile didn’t care. All the pony knew was that the aging didn’t affect the fuzzy feeling of that smile.
For the existence of joy, that smile was the only thing keeping this pony going.
The creak of the door signalled the arrival of a new guest. Bringing a new hue to the room was a pony whose demeanor matched his colors. His coat dimmed a dull brown and his proper mane and tail were coated in a hearty blond. His sapphire eyes were the only gems that told of his supernatural nature. He took innocuous steps towards the pony right before he explored the ever-so familiar experience of being tackled and suffocation.
“Sup, Norm?” the grinning pony giggled.
“Having… my… ribs… crushed… thank you,” the suffocating pony spluttered.
“Oops… my fault, you alright?” the smiling pony processed to let up on the hugging.
“I will be after a while. Thanks, Pinkie-Pie,” The phenomenon of normalcy spoke.
A few seconds was the amount of time that Pinkie-Pie let pass before words started coming out of that mouth again.
“So… what are they calling you this time?” Pinkie-Pie asked with a smile that could eat pig feed.
“Gaia,” the entity called Gaia stated.
“Really? What a strange name and it doesn’t even rhyme, well I guess you can rhyme it with papaya or pariah or fire or desire,” the pink pony rambled on.
The dull pony couldn’t be bothered to figure out this abnormal existence, even by phenomenon standards, so he started to address the lone pony of the room.
“Well, Pinkie-Pie, the reason I’m here is because of your request.” The pony said with a steady voice.
“Okey dokey lokey, and…?” the pony with a still smile chuckled.
“It’s been accepted, your specter is ready to be set.”
The pony with a curve for a mouth started to ignite. Body heating up, brain pumping harder and faster, building and building up until the pony in front of Gaia became more than just a pony in shape. That moment disguised as eternity became a spectacle of glimmering fireworks and shining sparks. The rockets and comets becoming infused with the magic that light brought forth. An explosion of bangs and flashes satisfied the ears and the eyes with a flashiness that would shame most performers. The finale brought the big bang that bore the world as a spectacular finish.
“Yeaaaa!” the now smouldering pony exclaimed.
“Are you quite done?” the pony of normalcy asked.
“As Alba as my witness, yes.” It was the first sensible sentence of the pink pony so far.
“Good, now I have a request of my own.”
“What’s up?”
“Please stop this madness.”
The atmosphere of the tearoom soured like the taste that a squeezed lemon would have to a tongue. The air of gentle banter gave way to the crack and thunder of a storm with no way out. Pinkie-Pie’s smile never faltered nor wavered but what the mouth couldn’t say, the eyes told of everything.
“Huh?”
“This isn’t normal. You should’ve made a few other worlds. Why are you so fixated on one world?”
“We’re embodiments of phenomenons with the authority to create worlds and you’re questioning a sense of normality in that? Wow, they don’t call you the Defiler of Abnormality • Phenomenon of Normalcy for nothing.”
“You know what I mean, why are you focusing all your advent on one world?”
“Does it matter?”
“This isn’t normal, normality brings a sense of order in the world, and you can’t just break protocol because you feel like it!”
“Maybe I should bring up the teensy-weensy fact that we’re essentially specters? That we live outside Earth and we summon planets and boom bang like that? I admire your ability to consider normality in that, however fruitless that may be.”
“Why are you doing everything for this particular world? What’s so special about it? Answer me, Phenomenon of Euphoria!”
A shift in tone, the pony with a fixed smile began to look at the rip in space, the image like fabric ripping from the unsteady fingers of a toddler. A feel of melancholy tipped the pony’s face.
“That smile,” the pony said with an air of confidence.
An irritated expression took hold of the orderly pony, what was this pony thinking?
“Then make new worlds! Create more smiles! Why must you limit yourself to one little tip of the lips!? There are limits to irrationality!”
The filly-silly pony, with a grin as real as Gaia’s indignation, could only pity the ignorance of this misplaced pony.
“There’s only one of her, she’s like… ummm… a marshmallow cake with chocolate icing, fluffy vanilla cream, a dash of gummy bears and bathed in a hot fudge bath!”
“You’re a phenomenon! You can simply create another one of her! Why do you drop order, normality, everything here just to satisfy one stupid smile!?”
Before those words escape his lips, Gaia realized that he wouldn’t escape. There was no escape for the storm about to take hold here. There was no change in the opposing pony’s lips but for a second in those eyes, he couldn’t mistake it.
There was no emotion that resembled that smile.
The smile stayed put though, never escaping from that face. Gaia’s face relieved at this fact. How naïve it was to assume that a pony’s anger could only be unleashed through the contorting of expressions.
“Gaia, do you know what they call me nowadays?” the pony said with a smile as sweet as a chocolate cake.
Gaia’s face clenched. That feeling of relief disappeared with that. Gaia tried not to recall that horrible scene. That dye of red decorating the floor like a grotesque flower. That frozen face on what was once fresh. Those works of mirth and light becoming the tools of renovation for the inside of a pony was the worst image.
“Rapture of Deicide,” the doomed pony could only gulp.
“Exactly, Sore Spot decided to be meany-weeny about my feelings and do you want to know something?”
The pony didn’t want to understand this pony’s mind but there was no way out.
“He’s gone, he will never remember me, his existence is nothing here now, and as we speak he’s probably having a great time being born on earth again now.”
The listening pony could only gulp at his upcoming execution.
“But here’s the catch, even though his existence meant nothing before, when people see my smile, that’s all his existence amounted to: the title of “Rapture of Deicide”.”
Gaia was tearing up, his face anticipating the end.
“So essentially, my smile has become his existence. When people see this smile, they see him. They see the sight he saw when I had my turn with him. They realize the fear he felt in that second before his end. My smile has become the world he lived in. I’m essentially keeping this man alive through my smile.”
Gaia started to clutter his teeth, it was surely coming soon. His tears were slowly mixing with the fury of his despair to create a picture of pity, a dripping sound that echoed with the sound of regret.
“So before you keep going, remember that scene. Remember that fear that held his eyes, that feeling in his stomach before I let it out, that realization that his existence, from then on, would only be equated with this simple smile.”
If Gaia had pants, he would have surely wet them, the puddle surrounding him was proof enough. If he could wish death upon himself, it would be a far more peaceful alternate then the reaper before him.
“Now, what were you going to say?”
Throughout this entire ordeal, Pinkie-Pie’s tone stayed as sweet as milk chocolate and that smile remained as sweet as the taste of a blueberry muffin.
Gaia was almost unresponsive, the beating of his heart being the only sign he wasn’t simply slaughtered. His unfocused eyes filled with dried tears told Pinkie-Pie everything he needed to know.
Pinkie-Pie had a period of confusion before going to the task at hand, the specter. The poor pony wasn’t dead at least. Alba would simply send a pony to help him back to his own room.
Pinkie-Pie tinkered with the ripple in the room. A strange apprehension stroked the mind of the lone pony of pinkest hue. Why did she want this? How did she find out? What was the point of this charade? A shrug left a lingering question in the now fresh atmosphere.
How will this bring her happiness?
A crushing sorrow clashed the heart of the pink pony. There was no turning back now. Pinkie-Pie realized the image of the specter, an exact likeness to the master. A sad smile became Pinkie-Pie’s face. The only thing left was to make her unspoken desire a reality. Pinkie-Pie pushed the specter through the erratic portal, with a soul burdened by grief. All that was left was to hope for one thing.
For her happiness.
Pinkie-Pie had a lingering determination in that face of pastel smiles.
All for her happiness.
Pinkie-Pie took the moniker of watcher once more and, once again, took to waiting for another glimpse of that smile.
Original Upload Date (I'll call it the OUD from now on) = June 9th, 2012
