The Disappointing Story

Inkyarn galloped down the street. She kept going. Things happened. A house was bought. She met a guy. They banged. The end.

Inkyarn is trotting into Ponyville for the first time. “Alright Inkyarn, remember what Mom said. Just one hoof in front of the other…” She lifted up one purple hoof and set it down in front of her. Gravel crunched underneath her weight as she shifted onto her left leg, lifting up the right and its corresponding back leg and placing them carefully ahead. This process, she repeated until she had gone a little ways down the road. And then realized that ponies were watching her odd walk cycle. They made faces at her. She made a face back, correcting her oddly placed limbs and clearing her throat. With a blush to her cheeks, she trotted on down the street.

The small little town bustled about her, ponies running to and fro. Inkyarn just wanted to find a coffee shop and buy some hot cocoa. Seriously. And everybody was in her way. She tried to walk, weaving between ponies and pausing to let others by her. Her purplish eyes… Well, their color is kind of a mystery. Let’s just say they’re like a blue lavender pink ish. Anyway, she was scanning the ground as she walked, trying to keep her ears up and avoid bumping into something when, of course (because the writer hates her) she smacks face first into a bright pink mare. They topple to the ground, the mare on her side and Inkyarn on her back. She groaned and sat up, pretty sure that something just popped. All of a sudden, two blue eyes filled her vision and she gave a start, leaning back.

“Hello!” The shout was jarring, sending Inkyarn to her hooves. She stepped back, peering through her blue bangs.

“Uh, hi. Sorry about that.” She tried to edge around the mare. “Wasn’t watching where I was going and, uh, I’m sorta new here.” She did that laugh thing. The cliché one where it just makes matters worse but you laugh anyway and it’s a good way to build sympathy toward your character. Yeah, that one.

“You’re new here? I shoulda known!” She stepped up to Inkyarn, putting a hoof around her shoulders. “My name’s Pinkie Pie and I love to party! Do you want to have a party?” She snorts, as though she’s made some great joke. “Who’m I kidding, everypony loves to party!” She hugs Inkyarn closer.

“Thanks, uh…” That name you just told me two seconds ago… Her ears fell back, her blush intensifying. “Yeah, thanks. But, I’d really rather some hot chocolate.”

The arm around her shoulders stiffens and Pinkie looks down at her. “Inkyarn. Are you meaning to tell me that you don’t like parties?”

Inkyarn shies away, lifting a wing defensively. “W-well, it’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just…” She pauses, her brow furrowing.

Pinkie had pulled away and was looking up at the nonexistent computer guy sitting in the sky. “Seriously? This isn’t season four Pinkie Pie. We’re on season five now, I’m much less of an asshole!” She turns back to Inkyarn, who has just kinda been staring at her the past eight seconds. “Come on, I’ll take you to Sugarcube Corner for Equestria’s best hot chocolate!” That hoof finds its way back across Inkyarn’s shoulders and (again, because the writer hates her) they start off for Pinkie’s home.

I sat back from my computer, chin propped in my hand. Everything appeared to be going along okay. It had been a long time since I wrote anything. Upon request of a dear friend, I had actually opened up my computer and tapped away for the first time in almost four months. Maybe I would actually post this story for once! For the first time in... Two years? That would be exciting. Make my friends happy at least.

I rolled over on my bed, stretching my back and delighting in the short little pop. Writing that piece had taken awhile and gave me this terrible ache in my spine. I was just happy I could take a break. Writers block crept up on me like a spider, skittering through me and grinding my little piece to a halt. As I uncapped my pop and reread the short, I realized maybe this wasn't going to work. The narration was too on-the-nose. Would people really like all the meta-humor? Fourth wall jokes? Yeah they were funny, but if the whole story is constantly shoving it in your face, maybe not.

I moved my hand over the backspace. One finger gently laying across it as I reread my work again. Like all the other projects I had started, like that one character from Jimmy Neutron that could only finish everything half way, I was again going to destroy my few paragraphs. An hour's work, all for naught. Was it worth it? I was only going to post it to Fimfiction. I didn't have much of a writing career to ruin if I did that. Forty followers, I guess. Not much but it was more than I had ever had. Forty people enjoyed my little bits based on a show about candy colored Sailor Moon horses. Yes, that was my life. IS my life. And I was steadily letting it slip from my grasp. A few months of building and a year and a half of letting it go. Honestly, I should have been proud of myself for making it this far. Forty people liked my stories enough to watch what I would post next.

As I thought about this, my cheeks steadily grew redder. That little finger moved away from the delete button and I pulled it up to my chest. I couldn't bring myself to do it. To "kill my darling" as my college professor would have put it. Some darling. Although, it would make a cute little skit to send to my friend. He was pushing me to write anyway and this was definitely... Something.

A smile grew across my face. From the backspace to the mouse, I moved to save it. Might as well keep it. It was too small to post to Fimfiction anyway, so I guess it was alright. Opening the browser, I sent the file and perused fim for a minute. Then an hour... Two hours passed.

*ping*

I paused, looking down the screen. Someone posted to my page? It had been a long while since that had happened. After I stopped posting content, people generally stopped sending me hello's. Although, it was certainy nice to get a ping. I kinda missed that sound... So just out of curiosity, I clicked on it.

Hey Ink

I had occasionally gotten a few comments as such. My favorites from a character called Tentacle Slaphappy. Rereading some of those silly little greetings usually made my day. So, of course, I responded. But I had to be cool, mysterious... I was a writer, at one time. I had to be confident and eloquent and sophisticated.

"Hello, traveler." I wrote it out, grinning to myself. There, that'll be... Entirely too cliche. "How about... Greetings?" I could do better than that!

Hey

A while passed with no response. Eventually I settled back down in front of the computer. Mindless hours of youtube ensued, doing everything but working on my writing. The thought popped into my head once as the Nostalgia Critic rambled on about inspiration and passion. An itching began in my arms, my fingers curling expectantly. I could feel the punching of the keys, the whirring of my new computer as I speed off through the story. I could pull out Word any time, just go at it. My unfinished Inkyarn story. Give all forty viewers of mine a taste of who Inkyarn is. For, really, who is Inkyarn but a profile picture next to Snow Sparkle and Erroria 404. Not even my tumblr gave her much of a story, and I was on that far more often! I could-

*ping*

Yeah, just passing through. Witnessing part of fimfiction's vast history

Wait, vast history? I hadn't posted anything in a long time... I leaned into the computer. Did this character... Was she implying that Inkyarn was history? But that couldn't be, I was still working on things! Pushing It had an update a few months ago, right? My rewrite of Mottled Shadow was in the works, MLPD... I wasn't history! Not yet.

I bit my lip and yanked my keyboard closer, furiously tapping away.

Oh yeah? Anything in particular you looking for?

Studying up on the history of fim. I see you joined in 2013. That's the focus of my studies, you see. '13 users are the more powerful users.

Powerful? I sat back, staring down at my computer. Was she calling me powerful? I tapped aimlessly at my keys, lips pursed. How could someone like me be powerful? Why would she-

Color flushed across my face. The user's profile picture suddenly struck out from the pale backdrop of the comment section. Her words melted away on screen until all there was left was that face. A woman, possibly one of the ponies, who knows. The character's face didn't even stick out. Blonde hair blowing away in the wind, glorious blue skies and the glare of the sun framing two massive sun-kissed breasts. Just barely contained behind a the tiniest purple bikini. It may have been a cartoon drawing, anime more like, but it was rather... Realistic. With red plastered across my face, I tore my eyes away from the screen, gulping audibly.

What should I do? Do I delete the comments? Ban the characters? I-

A groan escaped me and my face fell. Powerful '13 users, huh? This... This was a booty call, wasn't it. She was flirting with compliments just waiting to drop a link to some redtube or something where I could watch her get boned or something crazy like that.

I turned back to the computer, ignoring the burning of my cheeks. I should probably just delete her. She probably wouldn't stop until she got to send her link or whatever. Maybe I should block her.

Beyond all logic or reason, I didn't do that...

Oh really?

Her response was almost immediate.

Yes. I've found that 2013 had the biggest influx of users. Most of them still active today. I've found that an empire struck up around that time; a few of them actually.

Ah yes, I remember the great fimfiction empires that plagued 2013.

Wait, no I don't. What the hell is this girl talking about?

Please, tell me more.

This isn't a booty call, is it? Maybe I don't even know what a booty call is. All I wanted to do was continue on my way and write my story for Inkyarn. Was that too hard? Probably, since I had done nothing but sit and stare at that cute little picture for... A time...

I shook my head clear and waited. More mindless youtube took away the rest of my evening, leaving me no time or room to finish my story. I tucked it away and crawled into bed. Maybe in the morning, I could-

*ping*

Oh for pete's sake.

The more active, the more social, member of fim are the ones who joined in 2013. Others have taken refuge in their company, even those who joined in earlier years. They've made almost a hierarchy and I've done a good job of analyzing who their queen is. She boasts quite the hierarchy, measured not in how many followers she has but in the number of supporters she has all over the site.

I have no fear. I boats quite the Empire myself. I've spoken to the queen, we're on good terms, but I've found that as a user I am a LOT stronger than she. She's a rather lax queen. She sees her empire as merely friends. And that's really what she's gathered. friends.

Astonishing. Truly, very... I didn't know there was a monarchy on fim. Let alone two of them. What, does this girl think she is a "queen" of fimfiction? That site where geeks go to write clopfics about candy colored Sailor Moon horses? Wait, didn't I already use that joke?

*ping*

There was another, before. Far more powerful. When she left, Patty took over. She could come back any time now, she probably will. And when she does, all hell will break loose.

...

Yes yes, interesting theory...

It was her absence that allowed Patty to climb to power. And me as well. Of course, this is only a website. We're our own people, in our own world... But we've been attacked before.

This website is nearing the beginning of the end of its run

Ahaa... I guessed that settled it. his definitely wasn't a booty call. Maybe it still was, who knew? Only, instead of some strip-tease video link, it would be a poorly animated clop involving Applejack and Big Mac. Something along those lines. Or perhaps Applejack and Dipper from Gravity Falls. Something insane like that; and not even involving Pinkie Pie who is known for her meta humor and fourth wall breaks.

How does one gain power on fimfiction?

I threw my phone down beneath my pillow and buried it, snapping my eyes shut. It was too late for this. Already... I glanced at the clock. Ten thirty. Wow, how wimpy was I? I could still finish my story, or at least belt out another page before I really got tired.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through it for a while. To truly write well, one must be in a certain kind of mood. What kind of horrible writing would I accomplish only half awake? No, I needed to be bright eyed and cheery if I was going to write anything worthwhile.

*ping*

You have to sell yourself, talk to people, greet new users. Advertise yourself, or other people. Powerful people. All things I and the other queens did to get where we are. See, I have the soul of a '13 era user. I've studied them, I know how they act. But I'm really a '14 user... And I'm the one who's running the era of 2015 and beyond! I've studied the history of this site more than anyone and I know it like the back of my hand... All so I can manipulate it in my favor.

I couldn't suppress a huge snort of laughter. It boiled out from me for a whole minute long. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I could only sit forward and type out a response. Opened up on my phone, that picture still caught my eye and a furious blush overcame me, but it was late and I really didn't have it in me to get all flustered again. Besides, I already had someone to oggle over. I didn't need a cartoon possibly-horse.

How do you manipulate history to benefit yourself?

you make it.

It's how we are remembered, for how can he who makes no history be a part of history itself?

As the page refreshed, I froze. Make history. He who makes no history cannot be part of history?

I knew this was all just a prank. Some idiot got himself drunk or high and was bumming around when he decided to share his "coming of power" story with the first poor sod he could find. I just happened to be it. I've done that before, gone on some anonymous site and just had a laugh or two; and this wasn't the first time this has happened to me. I didn't put any weight in the things she was saying, nor should I. But...

What history had I made? I wasn't making history. I was history. One follower who occasionally stopped to give me a little comment. Forty followers who had probably forgotten Inkyarn really existed. A few stragglers here and there who would favorite my story or leave a like or two. In my absence, Snow Sparkle had gotten a number of reads and favorites, but was that really enough? The user was right, fimfiction one day is going to end. My Little Pony is going to dry up, the episodes are going to stop coming. Bronies will truck on for a while after that but they, too, will inevitably move on to something else. Fimfiction is going to fade away into obscurity and the followers I have will be no more. I didn't write a My Little Dashie or a Cupcakes. I don't have something that will live on in fond memories even after the death of the fandom. I don't even have a number of works to be proud of. The viewers I had, I neglected. The ones who bothered to follow me because they thought I could churn out something new and exciting; I only disappointed as there was no new content coming out. I wasn't making history, I was fading into obscurity.

Well, I wish you luck with that

Silence filled the space between every click of the keys. I looked again at the screen as I dragged my finger over to the enter button. I hadn't expected such a weight. I did not expect the silence that filled my head, or the way it pushed everything else out. History was leaving me behind? I pressed enter.

Before I go, I must ask. On this site... How has your history been?

My history? What history?

A smile grew across my face. I shook my head and chuckled softly, pulling out my computer. Alternating between the two all night, I finally decided that my phone wasn't going to cut it. I had to do this right.

I pulled up fim and just let my fingers move over the keys. I wasn't even paying attention to what I was saying, not really. My history hadn't been great. I made a few stories and let their obscurity get to me. I neglected the followers I had because I assumed the number wasn't high enough. I was discouraged by the like/dislike buttons, which many people avoided altogether. I thought there was something wrong with my writing because the viewer count wasn't as high as I liked. And so, eventually, I let myself fade into obscurity too. I stopped writing, I stopped reading. I had begun logging onto fimfiction not to read or to write stories but simply in the vain hope that one of my stories had taken off and become insanely popular; without any effort on my part.

So I lied. I went on about how I was satisfied and my history has been great. It didn't really matter what I actually said, just that it was positive and affirming. Because I was going to make my history great. For the supporters I do have, for my friends that support me. I was going to make something of myself, if not on fim then in the real world. In all worlds. I had logged onto fimfiction in 2013 because I wanted the inspiration and the outlet to right. I wanted to write stories based on tiny pastel horses and by God, I was going to do that. I put my hand into the pot and I was going to stick it through till the end.

And with that, I opened up Word.

You can expect a lot more content from me in the future.