From The Vaultby Mischievous BlueChaptersThe Black RoseThrough The Looking GlassThe Mane 6 vs. The TelephoneYou Got A Problem With Blank Flanks?The Black RoseAuthor's Note This story was created June 27, 2015, and abandoned April 6, 2017. Tags are Sad, Slice Of Life, Roseluck, Daisy Rated T Sequel to In Her Garden The Black Rose The Black Rose The door to the shop slowly opened and the figure moved in. A hood and cloak concealed all its features, except for the piercing blue eyes. A pony with a key lime mane came out from the back room and, noticing the potential customer, ran to the counter with a wide grin. "Welcome to Daisy's flower shop," Daisy said happily. "We supply flowers from all over Equestria and beyond, and sometimes design and make our own. Anything I can help you find?" The cloaked figure walked over to the counter, and produced a small picture from inside the cloak and pushed it over to Daisy. She took it and looked at it closely. Her pink coat turned a shade lighter as some of the blood drained from her face. She looked at the stranger, the picture, the stranger, and then the picture again. "O-one moment. I-I'll see what I g-got," Daisy said shakily as she disappeared into the back room. The figure waited patiently until Daisy returned. "A-alright. I found what you wanted, but it's the last one. I can't believe I still had it. I thought I had destroyed them all when Celestia banned them. I guess I overlooked it." She laughed nervously, and put a tiny woven bag on the counter. The other pony just stared, not moving. Daisy shuffled a hoof against the ground. "You do realize this isn't a cheap item, right? It is illegal, punishable by death, after all." The mysterious pony grabbed something from the floor and slammed it onto the counter top. It was a massive chest. The pony hit the locks and the top sprang open, revealing several thousand bits. Daisy's jaw hit the counter in shock. She had never seen so many bits in her life, much less in her shop. "I...guess the transaction is acceptable. Do you need a bag for it?" Daisy asked. The hooded figure shook its head back and forth. Daisy pushed the tiny bag over to the stranger. The pony grabbed the bag and walked out. Daisy stumbled against the wall in horror. She had just sold a highly illegal item to a complete stranger for what must have been at least 10,000 bits. She knew the effects of what that particular item did, and the results were why Celestia banned it in the first place. If it got into the wrong hooves... She shook her head and tried to think through the mess of thoughts piled up in her brain. I'll talk to Rose about it tomorrow. Maybe she'll have an idea of what to do. And with that thought, Daisy flipped her store's sign to CLOSED, exited the shop, locked the door, and headed home. === “As a friend of mine once said: ‘Evil only appears to happen to the good, because the ones who fell to evil became evil themselves. Those who didn’t fall to evil were strong enough to erase the darkness from their hearts and let their light shine through.’ Needless to say, it helps me get along a little better in this world. And I think with a little love, you could become the good and let your golden light push those bullies back.” Ticket nodded, sniffling. She liked that quote, even though she had never heard it before. She played it over and over in her head, and each time seemed to give her more strength. She stood up and hopped down from the chair. “I think I now have what I need to go back to school with my head held high. But before I do that, I have one last thing to do,” and she rushed over to Rose and gave her a big hug. She then let go and raced out the door. Rose watched her run down the street and gently closed the door. She sighed in exhaustion and walked over to her sofa and plopped herself longways across it. At that moment, the doorbell rang. Rose groaned with annoyance, but decided she wasn't going to get up just to answer the door. "Who's there?" she yelled. "Roseluck? Can I come in?" Rose's head lifted. It sounded like Daisy, but why did she sound so anxious? She yelled back that the door was unlocked and the door opened. Daisy appeared more disheveled than usual, mane sticking up in weird places. Rose cocked an eyebrow, prompting an explanation to this intrusion of her nap and the new look. Her pink coated friend quickly went over the transaction she had made the previous night. "So, let me get this straight: you had an illegal item in your store backroom, sold it to a somepony you didn't know, and thought I would know what to do. Does that sound accurate?" Rose recited. Daisy nodded. "Just about." The tan mare let her head hit the couch pillow again. "Why don't you just tell Celestia? From what you told me, you overlooked it by accident after dutifully destroying the ones you found. I'm sure she'll understand." "Are you insane?!" Daisy yelled in Rose's face. "Do you know what she'll do to me when she finds out I knowingly sold a known banned item to an absolute stranger? She'd have me hanged, or worse!" "Well," Rose said, wiping some of Daisy's spit off her face, "My other suggestion is not say anything and hope nothing too terrible happens. By the way, what's this item do that's so awful?" Daisy picked up the cup of coffee that Rose had made while her friend was telling the story of the previous night. The cup clattered loudly in the saucer. "Well, for one, it changes the attitude of the pony. It also changes some of the physical features as well, like a different eye color, different mane color, stuff like that. The cutie mark also changes. It will change color, and will slowly fade. When it disappears completely, the pony dies." "How do you know all this?" "One of my friends got one as a gift before it was banned." Rose thought for a second. "Does this item have a name?" Daisy nodded. "Yes. It's called..." She paused for a second before continuing. "It's called The Black Rose." === After another half hour of questioning from Rose and begging from Daisy not to tell the Princesses, Rose finally understood everything about this mysterious flower and its dangerous side effects. Growing on the far side of the Badlands, it shed one seed every year, which was often collected by tourists and adventurers because of its bizarre coloration. The seed had a translucent black shell with a red strip around its width. Inside was a pulsing yellow light, which was usually what caught ponies attention. The seed gained popularity for its light and unique design and was soon sought all over Equestria. It was impossible to go to an outdoor market and not find somepony selling the seeds. One thing that was puzzling was that they didn't bloom. Ponies tried water, fertilizer, plant food, everything to try to make it grow. Ponies thought it didn't do anything until one pony accidentally cut themselves of the edge of the seed and a drop of blood landed on it. The red strip had disappeared and the seed had morphed into a long, beautiful, and fully bloomed rose. The only difference was that it wasn't red, yellow, orange, or any other color that anypony had seen. It was pure black, and the stem and leaves were brown. After that, news got around of how to make it bloom and the flower could be found in almost every household. Plant shops like Daisy's ran out of the seed daily and was impossible to keep up with the orders. The future of the rose looked promising until several ponies in the town started to act strange. They would stumble around, call other ponies nasty names, and just act rude in general. Within a few weeks, the matter got worse as infected ponies started looting stores and homes. After the Princesses received several letters complaining about the state of things, they descended to Ponyville to figure out the problem. After using various spells on different citizens of the town, they noticed that the nastier ones were infected with a dark spell. Doing a quick search of the houses revealed that the magic had come from a single black rose, found in almost every household. Celestia had immediately declared that the rose was now banned, and set off with Luna to destroy all the ones in Equestria. Rose rubbed her chin with a hoof. "So, what do you plan on doing? If this plant blooms and makes contact with a pony, they'll act weird and eventually die. This can't just be ignored. The Princesses need to know." Daisy just quivered next to her. "I can't. The Princesses will ki-" "The Princesses," Rose interrupted, "will understand. You did what you knew was best when the ban was put in place. If anything, that will negate the punishment, if there is any at all." "Perhaps." Daisy noticed Rose leaning in closer. "If you don't tell the Princesses," the tan mare said in a whisper, "I'll tell them you sold it on purpose for a little extra cash, knowing full well that it was illegal and not caring." Daisy's face contorted into a mask of total and utter fear. Through The Looking GlassAuthor's Note This story was created on June 27, 2015, and abandoned April 23, 2016. Tags are First Person, Dark, Human, Lyra Rated T Through The Looking Glass Through The Looking Glass Before I looked in that mirror that morning so long ago, I had never considered talking to a pony, or a horse. I left that to the more mentally unstable people of my world. But even now five years later, I find myself eager to wake up every morning, race to my mirror, only to find my reflection staring back at me, and remembering that she was taken away from my life. But, as I write what I can remember, I feel I must start at the beginning. I was a bully, as most people would call me. I stole lunch money, beat up nerds, and made the new-comers of the school respect me and consider me a god. I rarely got in trouble because the teachers were scared to get close to me. I was the undisputed ruler of the school. When the principal tried to suspend me one time, I suspended him and sent him home with a broken arm. But even though it seemed my life was perfect in every way, I hated every moment of my waking life. My father was a crazy drunk. He very rarely showed his face around the house while he was sober, and because of his problem, he never bothered applying for any jobs and was living off welfare. My mother had a job, but considering what it was, I almost wish she didn't have one. She was a prostitute. Late at night while my father was passed out from the alcohol pumping through his veins, she was out there on the street or in a stranger's car, pumping something else. Due to the fact that my father was a damn drunk and my mother couldn't get laid enough times in one night for a steady income, I was the only one making any money. So I paid the bills, bought food, replaced clothes, and everything else, but it was hard getting by. I worked overtime every day, and sometimes had to 'bribe' my female boss for a little extra cash. Even then, when the bills were paid and food bought, we had mere dollars, or sometimes only cents, left. The school had finally let out for the year, and the kids in my class couldn't be happier. That meant three months they didn't have to sit in the same room as me. But who could blame them? With this kind of crappy lifestyle, I was undoubtedly the poorest kid in the school. I had no friends to hang out with; not even I would hang out with me if I weren't the same person. And who would be friends with a bully? Nobody of this earth, that's for sure. I walked home and entered the doorway, ducking as a half-empty bottle of alcohol whizzed past me and shattered against the door. Nothing new, my father was drunk. Again. I went up to my room, closed the door, and locked it. Locked doors weren't allowed in our house, but I used it as a precaution. My father had a tendency to get more drunk than usual and go on a rampage, destroying anything in sight. If he came to a locked door, he would pass it by. If it was unlocked, he would enter, and nothing inside would stop him then. I still have a scar from the time he had found an ax and roamed the house and eventually found me. But his drunken rampages is why we don't have any pets anymore. I sat down on my bed and turned on the television, looking for anything that our feeble antenna could pick up. I came upon a moderately well-received signal for a religious channel, but it cut out within minutes. I turned off the television and laid back on my bed, staring at our peeling ceiling. I continued to look at the ceiling until I heard my father's footsteps coming toward my room. I reached my hand out and unlocked the doorknob, just in case he was sober enough to talk and tried to communicate. I shouldn't have hoped for so much. He slammed on my door with a fist, or his head, opened it, and barked, "Hey loser, dinner's ready! Get out here!" He left and I pulled a cap gun out from under my bed, pointed it at the place his head had been, and pulled the trigger. The cap gun went off with a mildly satisfying CRACK as the cap was broken. It was the closest thing I had to a real weapon, so I repeated the process every day. He would burst in, call me names, leave, and I would pretend my little gun was a real pistol, and pretend his stupid ugly face was still there. I ignored his order to come out and ate in my own room. I always went out to the fridge while he was passed out to get food and smuggled it in my room for later consumption. This time I had some old vegetables and week old macaroni. I would have to restock soon since I could see fuzz on the mac & cheese. I went to bed earlier than usual, locking my door again. I stared at the night sky, or what was supposed to be a night sky. With all the people in this town, there were too many lights on at one point so the stars were never visible. A shooting star zipped across the sky so fast that I would have missed it if I had blinked. It was silly and too childish for me, but I decided to make a wish. With eyes closed and hands clasped together, I made my wish, "I wish on the shooting star that I can find an escape from this life." I knew that it wouldn't work, so I kept my eyes closed, laid my head down, and fell asleep. === I woke up a couple hours from midday, and lay in bed for a couple minutes, listening for any sound in the house. If there was no noise, it meant I would get up, take a shower, eat breakfast, and maybe hit the gym. If there was a noise, it would leave the house soon and I could go on with my routine. No noise was audible in the house, so I got up, undressed, showered, and redressed. I ate some frozen pizza since my father had broken the microwave in a rage when it wouldn't start. It worked fine, he just hadn't plugged it in. After the breakfast, I didn't feel much like going to the gym today. I decided I'd stay in my room today and do nothing. Nothing to do in this town for a broke family. After a small glass of juice, I went back to my room and shut the door. There was no point locking it since there wasn't anybody else in the house. I sat down at my desk and noticed that the large flipping mirror was slightly offset. I sighed and got up. I figured it must have been the cops again. They came by every once in a while and went through the house. They would come into my room and mess stuff up, looking for drugs, I guessed. I didn't bother doing anything. The one time I had tried stopping them, I had gotten a fist in the stomach and arrested. I had been released the next day, but I left the police alone after that. I flipped the mirror back to its original position and turned to get something from my backpack. If I had looked a little longer at my mirror, I would have noticed something was weird about it. The mirror itself wasn't the problem, though. It was what it was reflecting back that was the problem. I turned back to the mirror and let out of a scream that would have rivaled the girls' at school. I had turned expecting to find myself in the mirror, but instead, I found a small green...something...in my mirror, staring back in obvious horror. This creature was about three feet tall, a mint green color, and along with the very prominent ears sticking up off of its head, it had a mane and tail. Another noticeable detail was the long black eyelashes. The animal was a female. I knew biology well enough to know that this was a horse or, in more specific terms, a pony. But I had never seen a pony that was this color, or this cartoony. It looked like something that would have been on Nickelodeon, or the Disney Channel. I cautiously stepped forward to get a closer look at the thing in the mirror and, as I half expected, the pony backed up, growing smaller as it retreated farther into the mirror, as if it was a room. "Wait! Where are you going?" I called out as she continued to back up. I put my hand on the mirror as if I could reach in and stop the pony. She noticed my hand on the glass and stopped. She now looked curious and cautiously stepped forward. My entire body had been flooded with adrenaline, and I was sweating. I flexed my fingers that were pressed on the mirror and they left a smear behind. The pony reached the other side of the glass and looked at me with large yellow-orange eyes. She tentatively raised a hoof and rested it where my hand was. Now that she was closer, I got a better look at her. Being roughly three feet tall, she came up to about my hip. She was a light mint color, which mixed nicely with the grey-blue and white striped hair, or mane as it were. Her eyes, those amber wonders, hadn't left me since I had flipped the mirror. As she shifted slightly, a flash of color caught my attention. I slowly tilted to the left so I could see what had caught my attention. On the pony's back leg, there was what looked like a tattoo. It looked like a strangely shaped harp, or a bow that had been bent all the way back, secured, and then had strings attached. I frowned. It had to either be a tattoo or a brand. But who owned her? I focused back on her face. Her eyes for some reason were almost impossible to look away from. I shifted my eyes up to avoid looking into hers and spotted something that shouldn't have been there. A green horn, the same color as the body of the pony, was sticking about six inches above the top of her mane. She was a unicorn. Great, I thought to myself. My father must have put something in my food because I'm now seeing mythological animals in my mirror. I really am losing my mind. I lower my hand and stand up. The pony steps back. I decide to try something that my therapist suggested. She said that if I faced what wasn't real and said 'You aren't real' enough times, it would eventually disappear. I take a deep breath, stare right at the pony in my mirror and say, "You aren't real." The pony cocked its head to the side and replied, "What do you mean? I'm right here." I just about shit myself. This...pony...was intelligent enough to talk. I must have waited too long before trying the therapist's suggestion. I tried again. "You're not real." "Yes, I am." "You're not real." Now she was starting to get annoyed. "Yes, I am! I'm real and my name is Lyra! Lyra Heartstrings!" === For the next several hours, the pony, Lyra, and I talked. We talked about humans and ponies alike. I was most curious about how she had ended up in my mirror so randomly. She had said that she was having a rough couple of days and had wished on a shooting star the previous night and had wished for an escape. Just like me, I thought. But how does this count as an escape? Just then, I heard the door to my bedroom slam open. I whipped around and saw my father standing there, drunkenly swaying. "Hey loser, you know where-" He trailed off as he looked at the mirror and what resided inside. What happened next can only be described as 'amazing.' My father, the drunken idiot who can't hold a job for more than two weeks and can barely stand in place for more than a couple seconds, let out a scream that rivaled mine from hours ago, ran out of the room with a speed that I never imagined possible, and headed right for the phone. I heard him say from all the way down the hall, "Police, there's a dangerous animal in our house!" I turned to Lyra, who was huddled down and shaking, and said, "You should probably go. It's too dangerous to stay here. I'll try to contact you when it's safe again." She nodded, got up, and walked off the side of the mirror, leaving it blank. A second later, it became reflective again, showing my slightly pale face. I hoped that she had someplace safe to go until this problem blew over. The police searched through my room, but found nothing dangerous or otherwise. They found the cap gun, but didn't consider it a threat since most kids have one when they're younger. They also questioned me, but I played dumb and said that I didn't know what my dad was talking about. The cops did a quick search of the rest of the house and, finding nothing, left. I breathed a sigh of relief in my room and sat down on my bed to slow my heart. Sensing another presence nearby, I turned my head to the side to see my dad leaning against the door frame, glaring at me. "What was it?" he asked flatly. I stood up and faced him. "What was what?" His eyes flashed with anger. He took a step closer. "You know what I'm talking about. That...thing in your mirror. What was it?" I looked away from him and out the window, the sky already showing signs of oncoming night. "It was nothing. Your imagination." I turn back around and my blood runs cold. My dad is next to my mirror holding a small hammer in one hand. "Well then," he said with a small smile, "If it's just my imagination, you wouldn't mind me breaking this." My whole body was flooded with adrenaline. Do I fight him? He may be a crazy drunk, but he knew how to fight. When I was younger, I saw him beat the crap out of a high schooler who made the mistake of brushing against his car. But this wasn't some dumb high school jock, or even a girlfriend. This was the only friend I had. But this time, I didn't want to postpone the inevitable. It was time to end the pain of having a despicable parent like this. I carefully leaned down and reached under my mattress. One thing the police always managed to miss while searching my room was the paper-thin slice on the underside of my mattress, and stashed inside with the springs, was a long, sharp, and carefully crafted hunting knife. It was roughly 8 inches long and tapered to a razor sharp tip. I had tested the edge when I first received it and had accidentally cut my finger on it. I stood up and my dad's eyes flicked to the knife clenched in my hand. His arm and hammer pulled back to swing it into the mirror, but I was faster. Chasing down nerds at school had kept me in shape enough to beat my dad to the mirror. The Mane 6 vs. The TelephoneAuthor's Note This story was started on June 27, 2015, and abandoned August 20, 2015. Tags are Mane 6, Comedy Rated E The Mane 6 vs. The Telephone The Mane 6 vs. The Telephone "What do y'all suppose it is?" Applejack whispered, careful not to speak too loud. "I don't know. I've never seen anything like it before," Twilight replied, just as quietly. "Maybe it's some kind of new animal," Fluttershy said in her normal voice. "Or maybe it's some terrible new archenemy that we need to defeat," Rainbow Dash whispered back, flying just above the others. "Oh really, Rainbow Dash. Is everything an enemy with you?" Rarity whispered angrily. "Shh! Rarity, be quieter. We don't to agitate it," Twilight whispered to her friend. "I am being quiet!" Rarity yelled in exasperation. All six ponies gasped and ducked behind a table they had overturned when the strange object had suddenly appeared in Twilight's library. Nothing happened for several seconds and six heads poked up above the table edge. The object hadn't moved an inch. "Sorry," Rarity whispered. "I think we can talk normally. It doesn't seem to be able to hear very well," Twilight said, voice risen slightly, but only slightly. All the other ponies rose to examine the intruder from across the room. It was an odd box shape with a circle in the middle with smaller circles along the inside edge. On top was a strange hooked device. It was connected to the box with a string, but it didn't seem to have a function. The curved device had a large opening at both ends, but it was still a mystery as to what they were. Rainbow Dash had suggested they were eyes, and nopony else had come up with anything better. Strangely enough, those eyes hadn't moved at all. "Um, does anypony else think we should go check on it and see if it's ok?" Fluttershy asked timidly. "I-I'm sure it's just sleeping," Rarity laughed nervously. "Then wouldn't now be the perfect time to check it out?" Twilight asked reasonably. "Aw shoot, might as well. We aren't gaining any ground as we are now," Applejack replied. Pinkie, who had been silent up until now, bounced out from behind the table bounced her way up to the box. "Ooh, shiny!" she exclaimed and raised a hoof to touch it. "Pinkie!" Twilight barked. "Don't touch it. We still don't know what it is." Pinkie lowered her hoof and pouted. You Got A Problem With Blank Flanks?Author's Note This story was created on June 27, 2015, and abandoned May 4, 2016. Tags are First Person, Sad, Tragedy, Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, Rarity Rated T Sequel to Another Like Me You Got A Problem With Blank Flanks? You Got A Problem With Blank Flanks? "You got a problem with blank flanks?" -Scootaloo- My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic S1 E12 I finally confessed everything. I told Sweetie Belle and Rarity about the events of the last couple days: my parents deaths, losing everything, and having to steal food to avoid starvation. I held back my tears as hard as I could, but it was impossible. The tears formed two small rivers on my face as I sobbed harder than I ever had. Rarity tried to comfort me, but it had little effect. The two unicorns let me stay at the boutique for the meantime, partly as thanks for helping Sweetie Belle the night before. I had mumbled that it wasn't all me, but thanked them all the same. I waited for something to happen, but the most interesting thing for several hours was the whir of the sewing machine coming from behind one of the doors. I was told by Sweetie Belle that Rarity liked to work in silence and disliked being disturbed. I went back to where the couch had been earlier, but to my disappointment, it had vanished. Sweetie told me that Rarity used it in emergency situations. My fragile psyche snapped at that moment and I yelled at Sweetie that it was an emergency. She recoiled in shock and tears quickly formed in her eyes. The sound of the sewing machine stopped momentarily before continuing a few seconds later. I suddenly realized what I did and tried to apologize, but Sweetie ran out the door of the boutique, crying. I stood there in shock, realizing that I had just possibly destroyed the only friendship I had. My flank hits the floor hard as I sat down heavily, thinking of what I should do. My mind and body tell me to go find Sweetie and apologize, but my pride says she deserved what she got. Unable to decide what exactly to do, I figure the best thing to do is get some fresh air to clear my head. The cold sweet scent of incoming rain hits me as I step out the door. The rain hasn't started yet, but it isn't far off, and from the look of it, it's going to be a big shower. And Sweetie Belle is out there somewhere. I look around quickly and call her name, but there's no response. I grab my scooter from next to the door and take off as fast as I can. The longer I call for Sweetie and see no sight of her, the more my heart sinks. The rain is less than a mile away now, and already leaves are getting torn off of trees.
The Black RoseAuthor's Note This story was created June 27, 2015, and abandoned April 6, 2017. Tags are Sad, Slice Of Life, Roseluck, Daisy Rated T Sequel to In Her Garden The Black Rose The Black Rose The door to the shop slowly opened and the figure moved in. A hood and cloak concealed all its features, except for the piercing blue eyes. A pony with a key lime mane came out from the back room and, noticing the potential customer, ran to the counter with a wide grin. "Welcome to Daisy's flower shop," Daisy said happily. "We supply flowers from all over Equestria and beyond, and sometimes design and make our own. Anything I can help you find?" The cloaked figure walked over to the counter, and produced a small picture from inside the cloak and pushed it over to Daisy. She took it and looked at it closely. Her pink coat turned a shade lighter as some of the blood drained from her face. She looked at the stranger, the picture, the stranger, and then the picture again. "O-one moment. I-I'll see what I g-got," Daisy said shakily as she disappeared into the back room. The figure waited patiently until Daisy returned. "A-alright. I found what you wanted, but it's the last one. I can't believe I still had it. I thought I had destroyed them all when Celestia banned them. I guess I overlooked it." She laughed nervously, and put a tiny woven bag on the counter. The other pony just stared, not moving. Daisy shuffled a hoof against the ground. "You do realize this isn't a cheap item, right? It is illegal, punishable by death, after all." The mysterious pony grabbed something from the floor and slammed it onto the counter top. It was a massive chest. The pony hit the locks and the top sprang open, revealing several thousand bits. Daisy's jaw hit the counter in shock. She had never seen so many bits in her life, much less in her shop. "I...guess the transaction is acceptable. Do you need a bag for it?" Daisy asked. The hooded figure shook its head back and forth. Daisy pushed the tiny bag over to the stranger. The pony grabbed the bag and walked out. Daisy stumbled against the wall in horror. She had just sold a highly illegal item to a complete stranger for what must have been at least 10,000 bits. She knew the effects of what that particular item did, and the results were why Celestia banned it in the first place. If it got into the wrong hooves... She shook her head and tried to think through the mess of thoughts piled up in her brain. I'll talk to Rose about it tomorrow. Maybe she'll have an idea of what to do. And with that thought, Daisy flipped her store's sign to CLOSED, exited the shop, locked the door, and headed home. === “As a friend of mine once said: ‘Evil only appears to happen to the good, because the ones who fell to evil became evil themselves. Those who didn’t fall to evil were strong enough to erase the darkness from their hearts and let their light shine through.’ Needless to say, it helps me get along a little better in this world. And I think with a little love, you could become the good and let your golden light push those bullies back.” Ticket nodded, sniffling. She liked that quote, even though she had never heard it before. She played it over and over in her head, and each time seemed to give her more strength. She stood up and hopped down from the chair. “I think I now have what I need to go back to school with my head held high. But before I do that, I have one last thing to do,” and she rushed over to Rose and gave her a big hug. She then let go and raced out the door. Rose watched her run down the street and gently closed the door. She sighed in exhaustion and walked over to her sofa and plopped herself longways across it. At that moment, the doorbell rang. Rose groaned with annoyance, but decided she wasn't going to get up just to answer the door. "Who's there?" she yelled. "Roseluck? Can I come in?" Rose's head lifted. It sounded like Daisy, but why did she sound so anxious? She yelled back that the door was unlocked and the door opened. Daisy appeared more disheveled than usual, mane sticking up in weird places. Rose cocked an eyebrow, prompting an explanation to this intrusion of her nap and the new look. Her pink coated friend quickly went over the transaction she had made the previous night. "So, let me get this straight: you had an illegal item in your store backroom, sold it to a somepony you didn't know, and thought I would know what to do. Does that sound accurate?" Rose recited. Daisy nodded. "Just about." The tan mare let her head hit the couch pillow again. "Why don't you just tell Celestia? From what you told me, you overlooked it by accident after dutifully destroying the ones you found. I'm sure she'll understand." "Are you insane?!" Daisy yelled in Rose's face. "Do you know what she'll do to me when she finds out I knowingly sold a known banned item to an absolute stranger? She'd have me hanged, or worse!" "Well," Rose said, wiping some of Daisy's spit off her face, "My other suggestion is not say anything and hope nothing too terrible happens. By the way, what's this item do that's so awful?" Daisy picked up the cup of coffee that Rose had made while her friend was telling the story of the previous night. The cup clattered loudly in the saucer. "Well, for one, it changes the attitude of the pony. It also changes some of the physical features as well, like a different eye color, different mane color, stuff like that. The cutie mark also changes. It will change color, and will slowly fade. When it disappears completely, the pony dies." "How do you know all this?" "One of my friends got one as a gift before it was banned." Rose thought for a second. "Does this item have a name?" Daisy nodded. "Yes. It's called..." She paused for a second before continuing. "It's called The Black Rose." === After another half hour of questioning from Rose and begging from Daisy not to tell the Princesses, Rose finally understood everything about this mysterious flower and its dangerous side effects. Growing on the far side of the Badlands, it shed one seed every year, which was often collected by tourists and adventurers because of its bizarre coloration. The seed had a translucent black shell with a red strip around its width. Inside was a pulsing yellow light, which was usually what caught ponies attention. The seed gained popularity for its light and unique design and was soon sought all over Equestria. It was impossible to go to an outdoor market and not find somepony selling the seeds. One thing that was puzzling was that they didn't bloom. Ponies tried water, fertilizer, plant food, everything to try to make it grow. Ponies thought it didn't do anything until one pony accidentally cut themselves of the edge of the seed and a drop of blood landed on it. The red strip had disappeared and the seed had morphed into a long, beautiful, and fully bloomed rose. The only difference was that it wasn't red, yellow, orange, or any other color that anypony had seen. It was pure black, and the stem and leaves were brown. After that, news got around of how to make it bloom and the flower could be found in almost every household. Plant shops like Daisy's ran out of the seed daily and was impossible to keep up with the orders. The future of the rose looked promising until several ponies in the town started to act strange. They would stumble around, call other ponies nasty names, and just act rude in general. Within a few weeks, the matter got worse as infected ponies started looting stores and homes. After the Princesses received several letters complaining about the state of things, they descended to Ponyville to figure out the problem. After using various spells on different citizens of the town, they noticed that the nastier ones were infected with a dark spell. Doing a quick search of the houses revealed that the magic had come from a single black rose, found in almost every household. Celestia had immediately declared that the rose was now banned, and set off with Luna to destroy all the ones in Equestria. Rose rubbed her chin with a hoof. "So, what do you plan on doing? If this plant blooms and makes contact with a pony, they'll act weird and eventually die. This can't just be ignored. The Princesses need to know." Daisy just quivered next to her. "I can't. The Princesses will ki-" "The Princesses," Rose interrupted, "will understand. You did what you knew was best when the ban was put in place. If anything, that will negate the punishment, if there is any at all." "Perhaps." Daisy noticed Rose leaning in closer. "If you don't tell the Princesses," the tan mare said in a whisper, "I'll tell them you sold it on purpose for a little extra cash, knowing full well that it was illegal and not caring." Daisy's face contorted into a mask of total and utter fear.
Through The Looking GlassAuthor's Note This story was created on June 27, 2015, and abandoned April 23, 2016. Tags are First Person, Dark, Human, Lyra Rated T Through The Looking Glass Through The Looking Glass Before I looked in that mirror that morning so long ago, I had never considered talking to a pony, or a horse. I left that to the more mentally unstable people of my world. But even now five years later, I find myself eager to wake up every morning, race to my mirror, only to find my reflection staring back at me, and remembering that she was taken away from my life. But, as I write what I can remember, I feel I must start at the beginning. I was a bully, as most people would call me. I stole lunch money, beat up nerds, and made the new-comers of the school respect me and consider me a god. I rarely got in trouble because the teachers were scared to get close to me. I was the undisputed ruler of the school. When the principal tried to suspend me one time, I suspended him and sent him home with a broken arm. But even though it seemed my life was perfect in every way, I hated every moment of my waking life. My father was a crazy drunk. He very rarely showed his face around the house while he was sober, and because of his problem, he never bothered applying for any jobs and was living off welfare. My mother had a job, but considering what it was, I almost wish she didn't have one. She was a prostitute. Late at night while my father was passed out from the alcohol pumping through his veins, she was out there on the street or in a stranger's car, pumping something else. Due to the fact that my father was a damn drunk and my mother couldn't get laid enough times in one night for a steady income, I was the only one making any money. So I paid the bills, bought food, replaced clothes, and everything else, but it was hard getting by. I worked overtime every day, and sometimes had to 'bribe' my female boss for a little extra cash. Even then, when the bills were paid and food bought, we had mere dollars, or sometimes only cents, left. The school had finally let out for the year, and the kids in my class couldn't be happier. That meant three months they didn't have to sit in the same room as me. But who could blame them? With this kind of crappy lifestyle, I was undoubtedly the poorest kid in the school. I had no friends to hang out with; not even I would hang out with me if I weren't the same person. And who would be friends with a bully? Nobody of this earth, that's for sure. I walked home and entered the doorway, ducking as a half-empty bottle of alcohol whizzed past me and shattered against the door. Nothing new, my father was drunk. Again. I went up to my room, closed the door, and locked it. Locked doors weren't allowed in our house, but I used it as a precaution. My father had a tendency to get more drunk than usual and go on a rampage, destroying anything in sight. If he came to a locked door, he would pass it by. If it was unlocked, he would enter, and nothing inside would stop him then. I still have a scar from the time he had found an ax and roamed the house and eventually found me. But his drunken rampages is why we don't have any pets anymore. I sat down on my bed and turned on the television, looking for anything that our feeble antenna could pick up. I came upon a moderately well-received signal for a religious channel, but it cut out within minutes. I turned off the television and laid back on my bed, staring at our peeling ceiling. I continued to look at the ceiling until I heard my father's footsteps coming toward my room. I reached my hand out and unlocked the doorknob, just in case he was sober enough to talk and tried to communicate. I shouldn't have hoped for so much. He slammed on my door with a fist, or his head, opened it, and barked, "Hey loser, dinner's ready! Get out here!" He left and I pulled a cap gun out from under my bed, pointed it at the place his head had been, and pulled the trigger. The cap gun went off with a mildly satisfying CRACK as the cap was broken. It was the closest thing I had to a real weapon, so I repeated the process every day. He would burst in, call me names, leave, and I would pretend my little gun was a real pistol, and pretend his stupid ugly face was still there. I ignored his order to come out and ate in my own room. I always went out to the fridge while he was passed out to get food and smuggled it in my room for later consumption. This time I had some old vegetables and week old macaroni. I would have to restock soon since I could see fuzz on the mac & cheese. I went to bed earlier than usual, locking my door again. I stared at the night sky, or what was supposed to be a night sky. With all the people in this town, there were too many lights on at one point so the stars were never visible. A shooting star zipped across the sky so fast that I would have missed it if I had blinked. It was silly and too childish for me, but I decided to make a wish. With eyes closed and hands clasped together, I made my wish, "I wish on the shooting star that I can find an escape from this life." I knew that it wouldn't work, so I kept my eyes closed, laid my head down, and fell asleep. === I woke up a couple hours from midday, and lay in bed for a couple minutes, listening for any sound in the house. If there was no noise, it meant I would get up, take a shower, eat breakfast, and maybe hit the gym. If there was a noise, it would leave the house soon and I could go on with my routine. No noise was audible in the house, so I got up, undressed, showered, and redressed. I ate some frozen pizza since my father had broken the microwave in a rage when it wouldn't start. It worked fine, he just hadn't plugged it in. After the breakfast, I didn't feel much like going to the gym today. I decided I'd stay in my room today and do nothing. Nothing to do in this town for a broke family. After a small glass of juice, I went back to my room and shut the door. There was no point locking it since there wasn't anybody else in the house. I sat down at my desk and noticed that the large flipping mirror was slightly offset. I sighed and got up. I figured it must have been the cops again. They came by every once in a while and went through the house. They would come into my room and mess stuff up, looking for drugs, I guessed. I didn't bother doing anything. The one time I had tried stopping them, I had gotten a fist in the stomach and arrested. I had been released the next day, but I left the police alone after that. I flipped the mirror back to its original position and turned to get something from my backpack. If I had looked a little longer at my mirror, I would have noticed something was weird about it. The mirror itself wasn't the problem, though. It was what it was reflecting back that was the problem. I turned back to the mirror and let out of a scream that would have rivaled the girls' at school. I had turned expecting to find myself in the mirror, but instead, I found a small green...something...in my mirror, staring back in obvious horror. This creature was about three feet tall, a mint green color, and along with the very prominent ears sticking up off of its head, it had a mane and tail. Another noticeable detail was the long black eyelashes. The animal was a female. I knew biology well enough to know that this was a horse or, in more specific terms, a pony. But I had never seen a pony that was this color, or this cartoony. It looked like something that would have been on Nickelodeon, or the Disney Channel. I cautiously stepped forward to get a closer look at the thing in the mirror and, as I half expected, the pony backed up, growing smaller as it retreated farther into the mirror, as if it was a room. "Wait! Where are you going?" I called out as she continued to back up. I put my hand on the mirror as if I could reach in and stop the pony. She noticed my hand on the glass and stopped. She now looked curious and cautiously stepped forward. My entire body had been flooded with adrenaline, and I was sweating. I flexed my fingers that were pressed on the mirror and they left a smear behind. The pony reached the other side of the glass and looked at me with large yellow-orange eyes. She tentatively raised a hoof and rested it where my hand was. Now that she was closer, I got a better look at her. Being roughly three feet tall, she came up to about my hip. She was a light mint color, which mixed nicely with the grey-blue and white striped hair, or mane as it were. Her eyes, those amber wonders, hadn't left me since I had flipped the mirror. As she shifted slightly, a flash of color caught my attention. I slowly tilted to the left so I could see what had caught my attention. On the pony's back leg, there was what looked like a tattoo. It looked like a strangely shaped harp, or a bow that had been bent all the way back, secured, and then had strings attached. I frowned. It had to either be a tattoo or a brand. But who owned her? I focused back on her face. Her eyes for some reason were almost impossible to look away from. I shifted my eyes up to avoid looking into hers and spotted something that shouldn't have been there. A green horn, the same color as the body of the pony, was sticking about six inches above the top of her mane. She was a unicorn. Great, I thought to myself. My father must have put something in my food because I'm now seeing mythological animals in my mirror. I really am losing my mind. I lower my hand and stand up. The pony steps back. I decide to try something that my therapist suggested. She said that if I faced what wasn't real and said 'You aren't real' enough times, it would eventually disappear. I take a deep breath, stare right at the pony in my mirror and say, "You aren't real." The pony cocked its head to the side and replied, "What do you mean? I'm right here." I just about shit myself. This...pony...was intelligent enough to talk. I must have waited too long before trying the therapist's suggestion. I tried again. "You're not real." "Yes, I am." "You're not real." Now she was starting to get annoyed. "Yes, I am! I'm real and my name is Lyra! Lyra Heartstrings!" === For the next several hours, the pony, Lyra, and I talked. We talked about humans and ponies alike. I was most curious about how she had ended up in my mirror so randomly. She had said that she was having a rough couple of days and had wished on a shooting star the previous night and had wished for an escape. Just like me, I thought. But how does this count as an escape? Just then, I heard the door to my bedroom slam open. I whipped around and saw my father standing there, drunkenly swaying. "Hey loser, you know where-" He trailed off as he looked at the mirror and what resided inside. What happened next can only be described as 'amazing.' My father, the drunken idiot who can't hold a job for more than two weeks and can barely stand in place for more than a couple seconds, let out a scream that rivaled mine from hours ago, ran out of the room with a speed that I never imagined possible, and headed right for the phone. I heard him say from all the way down the hall, "Police, there's a dangerous animal in our house!" I turned to Lyra, who was huddled down and shaking, and said, "You should probably go. It's too dangerous to stay here. I'll try to contact you when it's safe again." She nodded, got up, and walked off the side of the mirror, leaving it blank. A second later, it became reflective again, showing my slightly pale face. I hoped that she had someplace safe to go until this problem blew over. The police searched through my room, but found nothing dangerous or otherwise. They found the cap gun, but didn't consider it a threat since most kids have one when they're younger. They also questioned me, but I played dumb and said that I didn't know what my dad was talking about. The cops did a quick search of the rest of the house and, finding nothing, left. I breathed a sigh of relief in my room and sat down on my bed to slow my heart. Sensing another presence nearby, I turned my head to the side to see my dad leaning against the door frame, glaring at me. "What was it?" he asked flatly. I stood up and faced him. "What was what?" His eyes flashed with anger. He took a step closer. "You know what I'm talking about. That...thing in your mirror. What was it?" I looked away from him and out the window, the sky already showing signs of oncoming night. "It was nothing. Your imagination." I turn back around and my blood runs cold. My dad is next to my mirror holding a small hammer in one hand. "Well then," he said with a small smile, "If it's just my imagination, you wouldn't mind me breaking this." My whole body was flooded with adrenaline. Do I fight him? He may be a crazy drunk, but he knew how to fight. When I was younger, I saw him beat the crap out of a high schooler who made the mistake of brushing against his car. But this wasn't some dumb high school jock, or even a girlfriend. This was the only friend I had. But this time, I didn't want to postpone the inevitable. It was time to end the pain of having a despicable parent like this. I carefully leaned down and reached under my mattress. One thing the police always managed to miss while searching my room was the paper-thin slice on the underside of my mattress, and stashed inside with the springs, was a long, sharp, and carefully crafted hunting knife. It was roughly 8 inches long and tapered to a razor sharp tip. I had tested the edge when I first received it and had accidentally cut my finger on it. I stood up and my dad's eyes flicked to the knife clenched in my hand. His arm and hammer pulled back to swing it into the mirror, but I was faster. Chasing down nerds at school had kept me in shape enough to beat my dad to the mirror.
The Mane 6 vs. The TelephoneAuthor's Note This story was started on June 27, 2015, and abandoned August 20, 2015. Tags are Mane 6, Comedy Rated E The Mane 6 vs. The Telephone The Mane 6 vs. The Telephone "What do y'all suppose it is?" Applejack whispered, careful not to speak too loud. "I don't know. I've never seen anything like it before," Twilight replied, just as quietly. "Maybe it's some kind of new animal," Fluttershy said in her normal voice. "Or maybe it's some terrible new archenemy that we need to defeat," Rainbow Dash whispered back, flying just above the others. "Oh really, Rainbow Dash. Is everything an enemy with you?" Rarity whispered angrily. "Shh! Rarity, be quieter. We don't to agitate it," Twilight whispered to her friend. "I am being quiet!" Rarity yelled in exasperation. All six ponies gasped and ducked behind a table they had overturned when the strange object had suddenly appeared in Twilight's library. Nothing happened for several seconds and six heads poked up above the table edge. The object hadn't moved an inch. "Sorry," Rarity whispered. "I think we can talk normally. It doesn't seem to be able to hear very well," Twilight said, voice risen slightly, but only slightly. All the other ponies rose to examine the intruder from across the room. It was an odd box shape with a circle in the middle with smaller circles along the inside edge. On top was a strange hooked device. It was connected to the box with a string, but it didn't seem to have a function. The curved device had a large opening at both ends, but it was still a mystery as to what they were. Rainbow Dash had suggested they were eyes, and nopony else had come up with anything better. Strangely enough, those eyes hadn't moved at all. "Um, does anypony else think we should go check on it and see if it's ok?" Fluttershy asked timidly. "I-I'm sure it's just sleeping," Rarity laughed nervously. "Then wouldn't now be the perfect time to check it out?" Twilight asked reasonably. "Aw shoot, might as well. We aren't gaining any ground as we are now," Applejack replied. Pinkie, who had been silent up until now, bounced out from behind the table bounced her way up to the box. "Ooh, shiny!" she exclaimed and raised a hoof to touch it. "Pinkie!" Twilight barked. "Don't touch it. We still don't know what it is." Pinkie lowered her hoof and pouted.
You Got A Problem With Blank Flanks?Author's Note This story was created on June 27, 2015, and abandoned May 4, 2016. Tags are First Person, Sad, Tragedy, Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, Rarity Rated T Sequel to Another Like Me You Got A Problem With Blank Flanks? You Got A Problem With Blank Flanks? "You got a problem with blank flanks?" -Scootaloo- My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic S1 E12 I finally confessed everything. I told Sweetie Belle and Rarity about the events of the last couple days: my parents deaths, losing everything, and having to steal food to avoid starvation. I held back my tears as hard as I could, but it was impossible. The tears formed two small rivers on my face as I sobbed harder than I ever had. Rarity tried to comfort me, but it had little effect. The two unicorns let me stay at the boutique for the meantime, partly as thanks for helping Sweetie Belle the night before. I had mumbled that it wasn't all me, but thanked them all the same. I waited for something to happen, but the most interesting thing for several hours was the whir of the sewing machine coming from behind one of the doors. I was told by Sweetie Belle that Rarity liked to work in silence and disliked being disturbed. I went back to where the couch had been earlier, but to my disappointment, it had vanished. Sweetie told me that Rarity used it in emergency situations. My fragile psyche snapped at that moment and I yelled at Sweetie that it was an emergency. She recoiled in shock and tears quickly formed in her eyes. The sound of the sewing machine stopped momentarily before continuing a few seconds later. I suddenly realized what I did and tried to apologize, but Sweetie ran out the door of the boutique, crying. I stood there in shock, realizing that I had just possibly destroyed the only friendship I had. My flank hits the floor hard as I sat down heavily, thinking of what I should do. My mind and body tell me to go find Sweetie and apologize, but my pride says she deserved what she got. Unable to decide what exactly to do, I figure the best thing to do is get some fresh air to clear my head. The cold sweet scent of incoming rain hits me as I step out the door. The rain hasn't started yet, but it isn't far off, and from the look of it, it's going to be a big shower. And Sweetie Belle is out there somewhere. I look around quickly and call her name, but there's no response. I grab my scooter from next to the door and take off as fast as I can. The longer I call for Sweetie and see no sight of her, the more my heart sinks. The rain is less than a mile away now, and already leaves are getting torn off of trees.
