Author's Note
Been tired, stressed, cranky, and generally struggling to write the stuff I want to write. So I wrote this. Not sure if it counts as angst, but hey, I wrote this while in a shitty mood.
I think this might be my "venting" kind of fic where I just write a character that stopped giving a fuck two years ago.
And there is no plan for this by the way, I'll just be writing whatever I feel fits with both my mood and the limited worldbuilding I've managed to cobble together.
Party Pooper
Red was not a people person. Nor was she a pony person, made evident by the tired, blank-faced stare she levelled at the pink, beaming earth pony mare standing at her front door. The fiery-haired human was dressed in a simple black tee, a loose-fitting pair of black sweatpants, and a pair of scuffed socks that looked like they had seen better days. Her long, orange hair was tied back in a low ponytail.
The bags under her grey eyes stood out against her pale skin as she pushed her glasses back up from where they had started sliding down her nose.
“Do I have to have a Welcome to Ponyville Party?” Red asked and watched as the mare in front of her looked offended.
“Everypony gets a Welcome to Ponyville Party!” the pink bundle of joy explained. “Even grumpy-pants humans like you.”
Red rubbed her eyes, her voice drawling slightly in exasperation. “M’ not grumpy, jus’ tired Pinkie. It’s been a rough week…I’m still adjusting to… all this.”
Pinkie giggled. “Well maybe a nice fun party is just what you need to perk you right up!”
“No,” Red replied, it had only been a few minutes since Pinkie Pie had shown up on her doorstep with an invitation and she was growing increasingly agitated and stressed with every second she was forced to interact with the mare. Despite this, she kept her expression neutral, it was a small point of pride for the human that she did her best to maintain a polite façade out in public. “Besides, I can’t eat anything there, so what’s the point in going?”
“To meet new friends. To have fun. There’s lots of reasons to go to a party.” Pinkie was as optimistic as ever.
“Eh…” Red was still firmly unconvinced. “I’d rather not go, not much of a party when I’d have to bring my own food or risk getting crook by eating something that doesn’t agree with me.”
In truth, she didn’t want to be in a space that reminded her of her delicate constitution. It had been difficult enough to look for places that even sold the limited amount of foodstuff she knew she could safely eat.
Pinkie had put a hoof to her chin in thought. “Well, is it a food allergy, an intolerance, a difference between pony and human digestive systems?”
“Little bit of all of the above, I think,” Red clarified, momentarily taken aback by Pinkie’s insightfulness. “I can’t have wheat, at least not in the amount found in everyday food, among other things it’s… complicated. ‘Bout the only baked goods I can eat are rye bread and rolls, and carrot cake. Been living off egg and cheese sandwiches, apples and carrot cake ever since I got here so, yeah.”
She was slightly embarrassed by the admission, but the human had long stopped caring about the oddity that was her diet, she was more focused on the fact she actually had an appetite and regular bowel movements than whether she was having a varied diet. She could still recall the days where eating even a few mouthfuls of food was a struggle. That had been a couple of years ago, before fate had seen fit give her an opportunity to live in one of the most magic-rich lands on the planet. The higher quality of farm-fresh goods had certainly been a highlight for her during the last week.
“Anything else you like?” Pinkie asked hopefully.
Red shrugged. “Brie cheese, white rice, bananas? At this point it’s less about what I like and more what agrees with me.”
“Then I can make a super special plater juust for you!” Pinkie stated with a bounce. “So how about it? Will you come to the party?”
Red felt rude for wanting to turn her down again, and the promise of good food was tempting for the recluse. “I guess? Jus’ don’t expect me to do much.”
Pinkie blinked at her. “Why would I? Even I can see you’re not at your best. But good food, good friends, and a fun afternoon always perks me up when I’m not doing so hot,” Pinkie grinned. “You’ll have a great time!”
“I hope so.”
The (small, at Red’s insistence) party was held over at Sweet Apple Acres, in an old barn. The orchard was one of the larger properties near Red’s modest farm, and the Apple Family had been more than hospitable to Red during the busy week she’d had in sorting out the run-down mess that was her new home.
Red sat cross-legged on a haybale, a plate in one hand and a fork in the other. She quietly dug into the small piece of carrot cake she had snagged for herself as Pinkie, Applejack and a few other locals milled about the barn. She looked up as her other neighbour, a timid yellow pegasus by the name of Fluttershy joined her.
“Hey,” Red said around a mouthful of cake.
Fluttershy smiled shyly. “Hi, how are you holding up?”
The shy Pegasus and the human had run into each other on Red’s first day in town. The human, still unused to navigating around Ponyville, had asked for directions and the conversation that followed had resulted in a sense of kinship between the two of them.
Red shrugged. “Still cleaning the place up, thanks for the eggs by the way.”
“Oh, it’s no problem, I have a lot of animals with very specific diets, so I understand how hard it is for you.”
Red hummed in agreement.
“Howdy Red! Enjoying the party?”
Red looked over at the orange farm mare that called out to her. She looked over to see Applejack was heading towards her.
“The food’s nice.” Red said.
“The food’s always a treat at one of Pinkie’s parties,” Applejack leaned against another bale. “So, what brings a human all the way out here?”
Red speared another bite of cake onto her fork. “Not much to it really, wanted a fresh start and it was either here or up in Canterlot,” she shrugged. “I wanted somewhere out of the way, and the old farm was cheap.”
“That old place will be one heck of a fixer-upper,” Applejack commentated. “You ever need any help, give us a holler, ya hear?”
“I’ll keep that mind. Aside from patching up a few holes in the roof, and repairing the coop, there isn’t much left to do.”
The small farm wasn’t anywhere near as expansive as most of other properties around the primarily agricultural village. A wooden fence surrounded the plot of land in which an old chicken coop, a shed, a single overgrown field, and her house were situated.
Red looked around, a dust cloth in hand. The wooden floorboards and wall panels of her modest homestead had been washed, the kitchen counters clean and both the oven and the icebox were in working order. She had just finished cleaning up the last of the remaining pieces of furniture in her home, an old dining table and a few chairs.
Ponies, while being shorter than humans, were physically bigger. This meant that most of her furniture was on the larger size than ones typically made for humans. Not that she minded, it meant her bed was huge for the short-statured human.
It also meant things were closer to her eye level, something the vision impaired human greatly appreciated.
Red left the cloth on the table to be put away later and walked out of the kitchen and into the small lounge room. The room, like most of the house at present, lacked much in the way in personal belongings, but a dark blue armchair took pride of place in front of the empty fireplace and a simple welcome mat lay before the front door to her right. With the weariness of a day spent bustling around the house, Red sunk into the chair.
Her back was protesting the heavy lifting and she felt exhausted from the cleaning and moving around, but with the discomfort came satisfaction, a sense of making progress. She stretched, raising her arms above her head, and arching her back before settling back into a slouch in her seat.
In truth, she had little to no idea on what she was going to do beyond raising a few chickens for a steady supply of eggs. There wasn’t much someone like her could do either here in Equestria, or back in The Arcane Islands. Money was still something she had to spend carefully until she could figure a way to earn it beyond just digging up gems to sell.
She sighed.
One thing at a time. Get this place cleaned up first, then go looking for something to do…I guess.
There was a list of things still left undone, it gnawed at her, a constant reminder. And ignoring her body’s protests, Red got up from her seat and moved on to the next task.
Padding into the bedroom at the back of the house, she eyed the small crate situated by the bed. The lid had already been slid off, resting by the door, and a set of simple pyjamas were haphazardly tossed onto an old dresser by the wall.
She eyed the contents of the crate. Within were a few sets of plain, dark coloured clothes, a few blankets, pillows, and resting atop the pile was an old grimoire, its cover emblazoned with elegant runes. She lifted the tome out of the crate and absentmindedly placed it on the drawers.
She set to working puling out the clothes and tossing them into draws, hefting the blankets to rest at the foot of her bed, and tossing the pillows on top. Her chest heaved from the effort, and as the day dragged on, she found she had less and less to do.
By late afternoon she was staring at the rundown chicken coop on her property. A pile of new planks of wood and a bucket filled with tools and nails lay by her side. She took a deep breath.
“Okay…” she sighed and pulled out a sapphire encrusted bracelet from her pant pocket and slipped it onto her left wrist.
She forced her sluggish mind to focus on the ebb and flow of magic in the environment, the undercurrent of power present in all things.
It was a strange thing magic. Humans lacked the natural foci and processing power of their magical neighbours. But what they lacked in natural talent, they made up for in ingenuity and sheer force of will. With the bracelet as an external focus for the power to gravitate towards, Red bent the magic in the air to her will.
The wood, a hammer, and several nails glowed with a silver aura, they rose into the air, wobbling as she pushed herself to work. With single-minded determination, the panels flew to the proper positions to fill in the holes and replaced the damaged wood of the coop. The tools soon followed suite and the air was filled with noise of nails being hammered into place.
The task took roughly half an hour as she readjusted panels and pried off wonky nails as her concentration slipped. Mentally draining though it was, and with a headache steadily pounding away inside the front of her skull, Red finally finished and let the hammer drop to the ground with a thud.
She inspected her work, hoping it was right but not entirely sure and resolved to get Fluttershy to check her handiwork when the mare arrived tomorrow to drop off a few more eggs and have breakfast with her.
For the moment though, Red was more focused on taking some medicine for her headache and eating a well-earned meal.
