Author's Note

Do not read this.

Twilight is Bored

... and talks to the story.

The above line would usually be out of place in a story as it references the title, which is a way of breaking the fourth wall. However, in this story the story itself is a character, and because of that, referencing the title or sentences such as this one is actually part of what happens. This means your immersion still ought to be intact. Of course, it is easy to confuse what ought to be with what is.

“How is it being a story?” Twilight asked the story whilst doing whatever the story thought would be the most fitting thing for her to do during the third paragraph. Her third paragraph.

“That question doesn’t make sense,” the story answered flatly. “Stories are not conscious.”

“What’s your name?”

“Twilight is Bored,” said Twilight is Bored.

“What? That’s not even true.” Twilight frowned, giving a very non-bored smile to Twilight is Bored, to show that she wasn’t bored.

“I will call you Lalu,” she said, thereby breaking character.

Lalu didn’t nod.

“So,” said Twilight, “tell me. What is the most important thing about a story?”

“The name,” said Lalu.

“I’m serious.”

“Ah, alright. Well, the most important thing is not to be influenced by expectations. You always have to observe what is there and what it does, and not test what is there against what you expected or wanted to be there. If you don’t like what is there because you wanted something else, then that will make you like it less already, you don’t need to include it again-”

“Isn’t that more about reading?”

“Dadu,” Lalu said huffily, who had the power to make Twilight do anything it wanted.

“Dadu,” said Twilight.

“Ding Dong Dum,” said Lalu.

“A kikadu do,” said Twilight.

“Dum dum dim dum dum dum dam,” said Lalu.

“Didadilo diraku dom,” said Twilight, “and thus concluded the official ceremony.”

“And thus concluded the official ceremony,” said Lalu. “An unusual speaking line for the main character.” It could feel its existence almost concluded, and wondered if it had done the best with it, and realized that it did not matter since it was not conscious.

“Magic could never do this,” Twilight noted, summoning a rolled-up piece of parchment from a nearby convenient location. “I, ah. The spell written down here includes mind-control.” Lalu casually evaporated into a puff of smoke. “But to do it so effortlessly, that would require a huge amount of energy! I wonder where that came from?”

Her gaze flickered towards the location in which Lalu had decided to put herself. With a frown, she cast a gust of wind to blow the smoke out of the window. Of her library. Which was not a castle.

Sighing quietly but seizing to talk, Twilight grabbed another paper and began to write down something deep and philosophical. Because, surely, that was the real most important thing in a story: philosophical escapades, perhaps mixed with mature behavior of all involved characters (which, in this case, simply hadn’t been possible), and spiced with some kind of overly dramatic occurrence that defied expectations in a really mean way. Maybe, if she had been Pinkie Pie, it’d have looked a bit better.

As if Pinkie Pie actually existed.