The Compendium Microfic Exhibitionby Compendium of SteveChaptersWithin the GladeMIssing YouA Certain Kind of FicLike a StoneOur Seperate WaysRendezvousSupply and DemandWithin the GladeThe shoveling of dirt was the only sound within that tucked-away glade. A dull-brown earth stallion, his skin withered but still rife with vigor, dug away into the earth with his shovel, humming discordantly to himself out of habit as he worked. At some point, a young unicorn entered the glade and stopped abruptly upon seeing the stallion. "Oh, hello there," she greeted. "Howdy there, miss," the stallion softly replied in an earthen tone. "What brings you out here?" "I was just looking for a quiet place to study the local flora," the unicorn answered. "I didn't think anyone else would be out here, though." "Well, don't mind me. Aside from my shoveling, I'm as quiet as a door post. Make yourself comfortable." The stallion resumed his digging as the unicorn took up his offer, briefly pondering his somewhat odd analogy. She trotted over to a small sickly tree stump that rose from the otherwise flat glade floor, and placed her rump on it. She found it hard to settle in; the presence of the stallion as well as the nature of his digging piqued her inquisitive nature. But before she could succumb to these curiosities, the stallion addressed her once more. "So what is it that you study exactly?" "Oh, various things," she humbly replied. "I like to learn as much as I can. There's just so much in the world that I want to understand." "Hmm, that's quite commendable for someone your age," the stallion said with a nod. "Though you should be careful. One can burn themselves out easily when trying to grasp absolutely everything in this world." "Yes, of course..." She couldn't hold back any longer. "What is it that you're digging for, if you mind me asking?" "I don't mind at all," he replied rather eagerly as he kept digging. "I'm actually digging me up a truth." "Oh? What kind of truth?" "Well, some time ago, a pony became lost and was never seen again. I'm trying to find out exactly what happened to that pony, and more importantly, what made them set out into the unknown to begin with. Something out of personal curiosity. However, I suspect you'd be able to help me unravel this mystery." The unicorn shifted in surprise. "What makes you think that?" "Funny you should ask that, considering who you are." At that moment, the stallion stopped digging and stuck his shovel in a patch of untouched soil. Trotting to the other side of the newly-formed hole, he bent forward over something that had previously been covered by a growing layer of dirt. With his front hooves he lifted up the object until it stood erect, revealing to be a thick stone tablet. The unicorn's eyes widened upon seeing the two words chiseled into the face of the stone: Twilight Sparkle. "You of all ponies know quite well of the price paid in seeking the truth. Isn't that so, miss?" —and clear out of the hole, his exit knocking over both stallion and mare. He landed gracefully in a crouch before sprinting ahead with sword raised, for not only had the blue-caped malefactor appeared but he was also wielding the gravedigger's shovel. The two bat at one another with their respective weapons until the man in shorts shoved the shovel blade down by the dragon's feet and tossed both dirt and dragon over himself and clear past the tombstone. Grinning and whirling around his tool he eagerly ran to press his advantage, only to have a thick granite slab smash him into orbit, the dragon leaping out from the glen in pursuit.—> MIssing YouAll was silent in the old homestead as Applejack headed for her bedroom. As she moved down the darkened hallway, a restless mumbling reached her ears. Recognizing the sound from anywhere, she took a detour and stepped into one of the side doors of the hall, entering the room of her little sister. Apple Bloom tossed and turned beneath the covers of her bed, mumbling incoherently with tears in her eyes. Some discernible words came from her whimpering lips. "Ma, Pa, where are you? Why aren't you home? Ma..." Applejack frowned a moment, then leaned down and kissed Apple Bloom gently on her forehead, whispering, "Ma and Pa will be home shortly, sugarcube. No need to worry." The filly stopped rolling about and slowly settled into a silent slumber. A relieved but sad smile filled Applejack's face as she watched her sister sleep for a moment, then turned back out of the room and closed the door behind her. Even after so many years it was still tough on the young one, Applejack thought as she proceeded down the hall to her room. In no time she got to her bedroom door and stepped on through. Breathing a sigh of content, she closed her door and turned to the bed, only to jump back in fright. Before her stood two other earth ponies: a strapping stallion with an auburn mane and a darling mare of golden blonde. Though Applejack was flabbergasted by their appearance, they merely looked back at her with kind, loving eyes. Eyes that she hadn't seen in a long, long time. "...Ma? Pa?" was all she could say. Seemingly unchanged from how she remembered them, her parents practically glowed with life in the dark confines of her room. There wasn't much time for gawking though, as the couple trotted by Applejack and out into the hall. For a few seconds she stood frozen with that look of confusion and disbelief, but then she violently shook it off and slammed the door open to follow the two ponies. Out in the hall, she looked to the other end to find her parents descending the stairs. Running to the stair landing, she looked down in time to see them heading out the front door, and immediately bolted downward in pursuit. Out on the porch of the house, the entirety of the yard and outlying fields was enveloped in the darkness of the night, save for the radiant pony couple that seemed to glide over the ground. Without question Applejack gave chase, and in little time she managed to shorten the distance to only several yards, but they continued to elude her, looking back with those kind smiles. Soon the pursuit ended by the fencing near the main gate, where the couple sank into the ground and vanished. Applejack skidded to a stop and fell to her knees on the spot where her parents vanished, distraught and at a complete loss. She then began digging frantically at the ground, choking between breaths as dirt was tossed about. "Don't go! Why do you have to leave us? Apple Bloom needs you! I NEED YOU!" Fatigue soon got the better of her, and Applejack let her legs fall to her sides, succumbing to sobs by the freshly dug hole. After a while, she collected herself and merely sat silent, then said, "I'm sorry... It just hurts so darn much still..." Solemnly, Applejack got back on her hooves and headed back home, where her family slumbered peacefully. —out the dirt—> A Certain Kind of FicOnce there was a cheerful filly who loved to romp in the grass and laugh in the sunshine. One day she was on her way to meet with friends for a picnic. Because she and her grandmother happened to be excellent cooks, the filly was tasked with bringing the food, which she more than happily agreed to. Weighed down with food on both back and in saddlebags, she skipped across town and hummed cheerfully. The filly soon reached the small stone bridge—past the bridge—>—that crossed over to the fields where the picnic was to be, but before she made it halfway across a sharp growl from below made her stop. She looked around and saw nothing, but suddenly from beneath the bridge there appeared a mean, green, ornery troll. He was barely taller than the filly, but he had long nasty teeth and an equally nasty look on his face. "Hey loser, why are you stepping on my bridge?" the troll rudely snarled. "I was on my way to a picnic and nothing more," the filly replied humbly. The troll snorted impolitely, then said, "Well you need my approval to get across this bridge you damn noob!" The troll eyed the saddlebags the filly carried. "What do you got there, r-tard?" "It's just food for my friends, dear Mr. Troll," the filly replied. "Let me eat some, or I won't let you pass!" Although the troll was rather small for his kind, he still looked and talked very mean, and so the filly did as he said and handed him an apple fritter. The troll took it and ate it greedily, and after a big gulp he said, "That fritter was awful! Who baked it, a blind paraplegic?" "No, Mr. Troll, I did." "Then you're a terrible cook who isn't worth anyone's time! Give me something else to eat!" The filly complied, feeling hurt by the troll's comments, and gave him some bunt cake. This the troll ate greedily as well, and afterwards replied, "That cake was dry and uninspiring. I've licked rocks with more flavor than that!" "But my grandmother made it, and she always makes her cakes sweet," the filly pleaded. "If by sweet you mean putrid and an insult to your very species for solely having existed, then you'd be correct. Now give me something else!" The filly felt mad over such insult, but she complied, not wanting to upset him more. The troll was given another item of food, and then another, then another, gobbling them down and making scathing remarks about their awfulness. Eventually all the food had been eaten, but the troll looked as mean as ever. "That was the single worst experience of my life! You are unfit to cross this bridge, or to even walk the earth!" "But I need to get to my friends," the filly said sadly, now bereft of treats. "Then let me eat you, stupid pony!" "How will I get across then?" "Do it or I will beat you to a pulp!" The troll gave his most threatening look, and the filly, shedding a tear, stepped into the troll's gullet and was promptly swallowed. "Awful," he said after a burp, then went down beneath the bridge to await his next gullible victim. The moral of this story? I think it speaks for itself :P Like a StoneIt was a good ways down for five stories. It's cliche to admit, but time really did seem to slow down. That was fine; it gave me time to take in the sights. A last look at the world as it passed by. Maybe even a chance to reflect, or find the meaning of life. Hmm, might need a skyscraper for that one. What I first noticed was a patch of freshly painted wall, featureless and boring. Much like my childhood, and especially my parents. Accountants practically bred for such a purpose, spending their days stamping and filing forms. No doubt they expected me to follow in their hoofsteps, but their offspring had aspirations of being artistic. Instead of filling patent forms he insisted on filling sheets of paper with stories. Admittedly they were amateurish even for a young colt, but it still hinted at a threatening degree of life, and that was a risk they couldn't take! More drab wallpapers, more dull family outings to the stock exchange. Alas, though their efforts were commendable, I still chose to write stories that were anything but about accounting. —past a window—> I then passed a window with a tray of flowers on the sill. The midday light made them brilliant, almost as brilliant as she was when I first saw her. Barely an adult and sitting out by a cafe when she trotted by, in a powder-blue dress and a silken cream mane that can drive a colt wild, and asked what I was writing. At that point my stories were slightly less amateurish, but even so I was surprised that she actually liked it. I don't recall it being one of my better works, but it piqued her curiosity enough to ask me my name after offering hers. Chrysanthemum, but Chrissy for short, which she claimed to prefer. No matter what she called herself, she was beautiful. With looks like that, even Mud would be a knock-out. A screaming mother holding her foal on the third floor caught my attention next. Yeah, hers was much like the looks I got when Chrissy took me to one of her garden parties. A scandal if there ever was one: high-class Canterlot intermingling with Midtown worker drone stock. She didn't seem to mind at all, and frankly I didn't give much crap either. Seeing her laugh and smile whenever I talked to her was all the validation I needed. I was blinded by a glimmering shard. Seems some of the window had reached my eye level finally. The way it shone was much like Chrissy's eyes the night we consummated. It started out all tender and romantic, with a stroll and a dinner and some time on the couch, eventually ending with a modest invitation to her bedroom. I never saw her more beautiful then I did that night, as we embraced and kissed and felt one another. A never more lovely spirit, not to mention surprisingly wild. Just got to love those repressed upper crust types to really make your evening. Better than most dreams come true, I'd say. I smiled at that thought when the ground finally came into view and took up all my field of vision. It was going to be hard, much like the hoof that knocked me out the window. Who knew a rich guy like Chrissy's dad could have so much hate over a few simple words? Fathers being overprotective was one thing, but this was just plain overkill. Well, at least he won't have the satisfaction of just scaring me away from his daughter. I hit the ground before I could contemplate the ways of the universe. A crack and then everything went black. Last thing I saw before it went quiet was that first smile she ever gave me. All things considered, for a no-name aspiring writer cut in his prime, it was totally worth it just to make it this far. Totally. Our Seperate WaysRock Solid was anything but at the moment. Hunched over his desk, its surface strewn with updated and discarded work-out schedules and diet plans, he smushed his face with both forehooves. Staying in shape and keeping healthy was his talent, and looking over his planned routines usually lifted his spirits. But on this day, a day he never imagined he would be dreading, they did nothing for him. A tap at his bedroom door was followed by the voice of his roommate, Sweeps. "Hey Rock, are you coming out or not?" "No need to; I'm busy thinking up another routine." "Really? Doesn't look like it to me." Rock turned with a start and saw that the easy-going unicorn stallion had entered his room silently, but he turned back to dwell more angrily in misery. Despite his attempt to seem as unapproachable as possible, Sweeps came up to him regardless. "It's the last chance you'll get to see her for a long time, man," he said. "Don't you want to see her off at least?" "Nah, there's plenty others there to say goodbye. No need for me to be whatsoever," Rock replied while scrunching his face. Sweeps merely sighed. "You're one of her long-time best friends. She'd definitely want to hear from you." "She's probably too busy getting ready to leave by now. Ah well." Tailwind. Sweeps wasn't far off in saying she and Rock were longtime friends, in that they knew each other since grade school. Some silly pegasus filly getting picked on her first day at school, and Rock hadn't been feeling too pleasant to let that kind of thing slide. It wouldn't have been far off either to say he was the first friend she made in Ponyville. "Can't believe you're just gonna ditch her like that," Sweeps said, bringing Rock's focus back to the present. "Totally not cool, y'know?" "It's not that it matters," Rock snapped back. "She's got an awesome career with new friends and other great things. No time for her to worry about some school buddy." She wanted to be a Wonderbolt. That's all Tailwind talked about when they hung out at recess, even though she was a clumsy flyer. Rock was all about training even in those younger days, and offered to help her out. It started off as mostly goofing around on her part, but she soon started to take it seriously when she noticed his frustrations. She got better over the years, and he got more buffed, and they had even started a small-time exercise studio to earn some bits on the side. Sweeps entered the picture when the studio grew into a business, and not long after that Tailwind started applying for the Wonderbolts. There were rejections and tears, and Rock was there to get her back on her hooves and try again. Then the day had come when she finally made it. She was ecstatic, and he couldn't have been happier. "Dude, you suck at hiding it. Just go and tell her, while you still can." Another call to Earth from Sweeps, and this made Rock hunch over even more. "Tell her what? There's nothing to say. Besides, even if there was, why tie her down to some muscle-headed earth pony? Her dream is in the air, and she's been on the ground long enough." Sweeps shook his head and turned to leave. "Alright, just mope away then. Though, haven't you considered she feels the same for you? Think about it." Sweeps left with the door open and Rocks further bogged down in himself. "It wasn't supposed to be like this..." he grumbled. Friends, that's all they were. He was some rough brute who trained her and kept the bullies back, nothing more. She deserved better, someone more gentle and can give her the sky. Yet how he felt around her, and the way she trusted him, looked at him when they were alone. "...DAMMIT!" Rock flipped over his desk and stormed out of the room—through the desk—>—, bounded down the stairs and out the front door, almost trampling Sweeps in the process. The ponies in the streets made clear, as they better well should, Rock thought. He had a carriage to catch, and no one was stopping him! RendezvousThere were nights when she felt herself alone upon arrival. On these nights she experienced a dead solitude, an isolation that didn't invite deep thoughts or a deserved rest from the world. Yet to her surprise, she wouldn't stay alone for long. Hello there, beautiful. It's been a while. It was a familiar presence: brusque, arrogant, but also intelligent and even playful. It had indeed been a while since she last felt it, and experienced a mixture of comfort and uncertainty that made her quiver slightly. "I missed you." I know you do, sweetheart. All the ladies can't get enough of me. Such obnoxious self-indulgence, but she knew that it was different when he said it around her. A somber twinge of nostalgia went through her. I see you've been doing well without me. "Yes. There have been lots of others for me to look after, and in turn so many to look after and care for me. Though, none have ever come off the same as you." A bellowing laugh shook the air. Others would have thought it cruel, but she knew it was just his own unique trait. Ha ha! Ever the sentimentalist as always, my dear. "Oh? As I recall, you yourself were quite sentimental from time to time." Yes, well, that was a long time ago. Ancient history to be precise. "Indeed..." For a brief moment it had felt the same as it did back then, with her at ease before his towering presence. It went away quickly as she stared off. She sensed him approaching. Things were so much simpler then. No responsibilities, no rules or doctrines to uphold. Just us and the world as our playground. "They were simpler times, but all things must grow older, and face the world with new-found wisdom and understanding." Serious as always. Something that I find both endearing and meddlesome about you. With all your wisdom, you still fail to see the importance of staying young at heart and partaking in a little mischief. "...Not if it meant hurting others." Distaste filled her as the ugly side of her memories began to rise. It was all in good fun, my dear. "No it wasn't. Ponies suffered, whether directly or from the disharmony you insisted on creating." The whole harmony thing again? Guess it's in your nature, as wanton chaos is in mine. She felt his embrace, firm yet gentle and warm. Her resolve began to shudder and her vision grew cloudy, willing her being to remain still. We can start again, you know? Leave the responsibilities, find a new land, be whatever we want to be without disrupting your precious harmony. She felt herself breaking, but remained focused. "Always wanting the easy way out. Why couldn't you live with stability? Why didn't you think any of it was important enough to adjust? Was there nothing of significance to you in it?" It came off as begging. Pitiful. He suddenly grew cold. ...As I said, it's in my nature. But I understand. He let her go, and she felt him drift steadily away. I pose a threat to your precious dream, and thus won't bother you further. It's either one or the other between us. For you, precious Tia, I humbly submit... "WAIT!" Celestia awoke in a cold sweat, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. Alone, once again, in the darkness. —past the bed—> Supply and Demand"What? You have got to be kidding me! No way it costs that much!" The music store clerk just tapped a hoof mindlessly on the countertop, not even looking at the seething customer before him. "Sorry, I don't make the prices." "But it's 'Mule from La Mancha'!" the customer, Patter, shouted. "It's, like, forty years old. No way it costs thirty bits!" "Well, it's the only one in the store, and last I heard, forty years makes it an antique," the clerk said with a smug look. This only pissed off Patter more. "This is an outrage! You win this day for now, wage slave, but I shall make that CD mine." Patter stomped away from the counter, leaving behind his desired claim and an ever indifferent-looking clerk. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out." Back on the streets of Ponyville, Patter was hardly two yards from the music store when he entered another tirade. "I can't believe this. After weeks of perusing I finally find my prize, only to have it caged by the greedy claws of capitalism! Such ingrates; how else will I be able to practice singing 'The Impossible Dream'? Hardly any stage company plays it, and the Internet still doesn't exist for some reason." He turned back to the store to raise a hoof in hateful defiance as he lifted his volume to the heavens. "Do you not see the suffering you inflict on the everyday consumer, your very life source, ye damned LEECHES!" A passing mother and child stopped at this exclamation, the mother looking more uncomfortable than perplexed, as was her son. "Mommy, why is he yelling at the store?" "It's because he doesn't have friends to teach him better. Always remember that." The two scurried away in fear of getting involved in Patter's verbal crusade against the captains of industry. However, he turned inward instead and contemplated deeply, and also vocally. "Hmm, in order to get what is rightfully mine, there is only one logical course of action..." The city of Ponyville, nighttime. A lone hoodied figure stalked up to the music store window, brick in hoof. "Anarchy!" The brick was thrown through the oppressive pane of glass, allowing Patter to hop in and abscond with the captive soundtrack. Unfortunately, he then noticed the burglar alarm blaring as he made his exit. "Who the hell installs an alarm system in this town?" He didn't have time to further ponder the anomaly as the shouts and rabble of the local law reached his ears. Uttering a swear, he made off for the alleyways, but the cops were hot on his tail. Despite knocking over trashcans and some impromptu parkour, Patter found himself corralled toward the town hall. Rather than stop and surrender, he called upon his musical theatrical spirit and leapt up to the second floor, scaling the roof up to the top. By this time a crowd had gathered, and magically-trained spotlights were on him. "Come down at once or we will fire!" the police chief ordered. "Never!" Patter cried. "It's my duty, my PRIVILEGE to right your unrightable wrongs, ye fascists!" The menace to societal order continued to climb up from hell for a heavenly cause until he made it to the very precipice of the building. With the grandeur of the moon at his back, Patter brought up his hooves, holding his prize in triumph. Just then there was a gunshot, and the CD flew from Patter's grasp. In desperation he reached out for it, involuntarily leaping from the roof in a dramatic fashion. "~To reeeeeach the unreachable STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!~" Thus the tyrant fell from his madness along with the cause of his downfall, and many an "iunno" was given that night by the populace at large. But the show wasn't over, apparently, for at that moment someone in a suit holding a sword fell onto the roof of the town hall, bouncing across it and over the edge. He grabbed it just in time, right as a kook in a cape landed solidly a few steps from him. Waving his fashion about, the moon gleaming off a mostly hairless head, the man looked to the crowd below and called out to the night. "~Let The Bass Kick O-oooooooooo AAAAE-A-A-I-A-U- JO-oooooooooooo AAE-O-A-A-U-U-A- E-eee-ee-eee AAAAE-A-E-I-E-A- JO-ooo-oo-oo-oo EEEEO-A-AAA-AAAA!!" The citizens could only dance wildly as rave lights flooded the town square and every foundation shook to a mighty bass. However, the suit with the sword seemed the only one unaffected, as he pulled himself up onto the roof and, once sure-footed, charged and swiped at the emcee. Said emcee spun away, his face red from both singing and indignation. "Don't disrupt me when I'm SINGING!!" His attacker paid no mind as he raised his sword once again, but he didn't have time to bring it down as the party master turned, dropped to his hands and delivered a mule kick to the swordsman's chin, launching him high up into the night sky—> Atuhor's Nose: What's this I don't even... (A cookie to the one who knows the above reference)
Within the GladeThe shoveling of dirt was the only sound within that tucked-away glade. A dull-brown earth stallion, his skin withered but still rife with vigor, dug away into the earth with his shovel, humming discordantly to himself out of habit as he worked. At some point, a young unicorn entered the glade and stopped abruptly upon seeing the stallion. "Oh, hello there," she greeted. "Howdy there, miss," the stallion softly replied in an earthen tone. "What brings you out here?" "I was just looking for a quiet place to study the local flora," the unicorn answered. "I didn't think anyone else would be out here, though." "Well, don't mind me. Aside from my shoveling, I'm as quiet as a door post. Make yourself comfortable." The stallion resumed his digging as the unicorn took up his offer, briefly pondering his somewhat odd analogy. She trotted over to a small sickly tree stump that rose from the otherwise flat glade floor, and placed her rump on it. She found it hard to settle in; the presence of the stallion as well as the nature of his digging piqued her inquisitive nature. But before she could succumb to these curiosities, the stallion addressed her once more. "So what is it that you study exactly?" "Oh, various things," she humbly replied. "I like to learn as much as I can. There's just so much in the world that I want to understand." "Hmm, that's quite commendable for someone your age," the stallion said with a nod. "Though you should be careful. One can burn themselves out easily when trying to grasp absolutely everything in this world." "Yes, of course..." She couldn't hold back any longer. "What is it that you're digging for, if you mind me asking?" "I don't mind at all," he replied rather eagerly as he kept digging. "I'm actually digging me up a truth." "Oh? What kind of truth?" "Well, some time ago, a pony became lost and was never seen again. I'm trying to find out exactly what happened to that pony, and more importantly, what made them set out into the unknown to begin with. Something out of personal curiosity. However, I suspect you'd be able to help me unravel this mystery." The unicorn shifted in surprise. "What makes you think that?" "Funny you should ask that, considering who you are." At that moment, the stallion stopped digging and stuck his shovel in a patch of untouched soil. Trotting to the other side of the newly-formed hole, he bent forward over something that had previously been covered by a growing layer of dirt. With his front hooves he lifted up the object until it stood erect, revealing to be a thick stone tablet. The unicorn's eyes widened upon seeing the two words chiseled into the face of the stone: Twilight Sparkle. "You of all ponies know quite well of the price paid in seeking the truth. Isn't that so, miss?" —and clear out of the hole, his exit knocking over both stallion and mare. He landed gracefully in a crouch before sprinting ahead with sword raised, for not only had the blue-caped malefactor appeared but he was also wielding the gravedigger's shovel. The two bat at one another with their respective weapons until the man in shorts shoved the shovel blade down by the dragon's feet and tossed both dirt and dragon over himself and clear past the tombstone. Grinning and whirling around his tool he eagerly ran to press his advantage, only to have a thick granite slab smash him into orbit, the dragon leaping out from the glen in pursuit.—>
MIssing YouAll was silent in the old homestead as Applejack headed for her bedroom. As she moved down the darkened hallway, a restless mumbling reached her ears. Recognizing the sound from anywhere, she took a detour and stepped into one of the side doors of the hall, entering the room of her little sister. Apple Bloom tossed and turned beneath the covers of her bed, mumbling incoherently with tears in her eyes. Some discernible words came from her whimpering lips. "Ma, Pa, where are you? Why aren't you home? Ma..." Applejack frowned a moment, then leaned down and kissed Apple Bloom gently on her forehead, whispering, "Ma and Pa will be home shortly, sugarcube. No need to worry." The filly stopped rolling about and slowly settled into a silent slumber. A relieved but sad smile filled Applejack's face as she watched her sister sleep for a moment, then turned back out of the room and closed the door behind her. Even after so many years it was still tough on the young one, Applejack thought as she proceeded down the hall to her room. In no time she got to her bedroom door and stepped on through. Breathing a sigh of content, she closed her door and turned to the bed, only to jump back in fright. Before her stood two other earth ponies: a strapping stallion with an auburn mane and a darling mare of golden blonde. Though Applejack was flabbergasted by their appearance, they merely looked back at her with kind, loving eyes. Eyes that she hadn't seen in a long, long time. "...Ma? Pa?" was all she could say. Seemingly unchanged from how she remembered them, her parents practically glowed with life in the dark confines of her room. There wasn't much time for gawking though, as the couple trotted by Applejack and out into the hall. For a few seconds she stood frozen with that look of confusion and disbelief, but then she violently shook it off and slammed the door open to follow the two ponies. Out in the hall, she looked to the other end to find her parents descending the stairs. Running to the stair landing, she looked down in time to see them heading out the front door, and immediately bolted downward in pursuit. Out on the porch of the house, the entirety of the yard and outlying fields was enveloped in the darkness of the night, save for the radiant pony couple that seemed to glide over the ground. Without question Applejack gave chase, and in little time she managed to shorten the distance to only several yards, but they continued to elude her, looking back with those kind smiles. Soon the pursuit ended by the fencing near the main gate, where the couple sank into the ground and vanished. Applejack skidded to a stop and fell to her knees on the spot where her parents vanished, distraught and at a complete loss. She then began digging frantically at the ground, choking between breaths as dirt was tossed about. "Don't go! Why do you have to leave us? Apple Bloom needs you! I NEED YOU!" Fatigue soon got the better of her, and Applejack let her legs fall to her sides, succumbing to sobs by the freshly dug hole. After a while, she collected herself and merely sat silent, then said, "I'm sorry... It just hurts so darn much still..." Solemnly, Applejack got back on her hooves and headed back home, where her family slumbered peacefully. —out the dirt—>
A Certain Kind of FicOnce there was a cheerful filly who loved to romp in the grass and laugh in the sunshine. One day she was on her way to meet with friends for a picnic. Because she and her grandmother happened to be excellent cooks, the filly was tasked with bringing the food, which she more than happily agreed to. Weighed down with food on both back and in saddlebags, she skipped across town and hummed cheerfully. The filly soon reached the small stone bridge—past the bridge—>—that crossed over to the fields where the picnic was to be, but before she made it halfway across a sharp growl from below made her stop. She looked around and saw nothing, but suddenly from beneath the bridge there appeared a mean, green, ornery troll. He was barely taller than the filly, but he had long nasty teeth and an equally nasty look on his face. "Hey loser, why are you stepping on my bridge?" the troll rudely snarled. "I was on my way to a picnic and nothing more," the filly replied humbly. The troll snorted impolitely, then said, "Well you need my approval to get across this bridge you damn noob!" The troll eyed the saddlebags the filly carried. "What do you got there, r-tard?" "It's just food for my friends, dear Mr. Troll," the filly replied. "Let me eat some, or I won't let you pass!" Although the troll was rather small for his kind, he still looked and talked very mean, and so the filly did as he said and handed him an apple fritter. The troll took it and ate it greedily, and after a big gulp he said, "That fritter was awful! Who baked it, a blind paraplegic?" "No, Mr. Troll, I did." "Then you're a terrible cook who isn't worth anyone's time! Give me something else to eat!" The filly complied, feeling hurt by the troll's comments, and gave him some bunt cake. This the troll ate greedily as well, and afterwards replied, "That cake was dry and uninspiring. I've licked rocks with more flavor than that!" "But my grandmother made it, and she always makes her cakes sweet," the filly pleaded. "If by sweet you mean putrid and an insult to your very species for solely having existed, then you'd be correct. Now give me something else!" The filly felt mad over such insult, but she complied, not wanting to upset him more. The troll was given another item of food, and then another, then another, gobbling them down and making scathing remarks about their awfulness. Eventually all the food had been eaten, but the troll looked as mean as ever. "That was the single worst experience of my life! You are unfit to cross this bridge, or to even walk the earth!" "But I need to get to my friends," the filly said sadly, now bereft of treats. "Then let me eat you, stupid pony!" "How will I get across then?" "Do it or I will beat you to a pulp!" The troll gave his most threatening look, and the filly, shedding a tear, stepped into the troll's gullet and was promptly swallowed. "Awful," he said after a burp, then went down beneath the bridge to await his next gullible victim. The moral of this story? I think it speaks for itself :P
Like a StoneIt was a good ways down for five stories. It's cliche to admit, but time really did seem to slow down. That was fine; it gave me time to take in the sights. A last look at the world as it passed by. Maybe even a chance to reflect, or find the meaning of life. Hmm, might need a skyscraper for that one. What I first noticed was a patch of freshly painted wall, featureless and boring. Much like my childhood, and especially my parents. Accountants practically bred for such a purpose, spending their days stamping and filing forms. No doubt they expected me to follow in their hoofsteps, but their offspring had aspirations of being artistic. Instead of filling patent forms he insisted on filling sheets of paper with stories. Admittedly they were amateurish even for a young colt, but it still hinted at a threatening degree of life, and that was a risk they couldn't take! More drab wallpapers, more dull family outings to the stock exchange. Alas, though their efforts were commendable, I still chose to write stories that were anything but about accounting. —past a window—> I then passed a window with a tray of flowers on the sill. The midday light made them brilliant, almost as brilliant as she was when I first saw her. Barely an adult and sitting out by a cafe when she trotted by, in a powder-blue dress and a silken cream mane that can drive a colt wild, and asked what I was writing. At that point my stories were slightly less amateurish, but even so I was surprised that she actually liked it. I don't recall it being one of my better works, but it piqued her curiosity enough to ask me my name after offering hers. Chrysanthemum, but Chrissy for short, which she claimed to prefer. No matter what she called herself, she was beautiful. With looks like that, even Mud would be a knock-out. A screaming mother holding her foal on the third floor caught my attention next. Yeah, hers was much like the looks I got when Chrissy took me to one of her garden parties. A scandal if there ever was one: high-class Canterlot intermingling with Midtown worker drone stock. She didn't seem to mind at all, and frankly I didn't give much crap either. Seeing her laugh and smile whenever I talked to her was all the validation I needed. I was blinded by a glimmering shard. Seems some of the window had reached my eye level finally. The way it shone was much like Chrissy's eyes the night we consummated. It started out all tender and romantic, with a stroll and a dinner and some time on the couch, eventually ending with a modest invitation to her bedroom. I never saw her more beautiful then I did that night, as we embraced and kissed and felt one another. A never more lovely spirit, not to mention surprisingly wild. Just got to love those repressed upper crust types to really make your evening. Better than most dreams come true, I'd say. I smiled at that thought when the ground finally came into view and took up all my field of vision. It was going to be hard, much like the hoof that knocked me out the window. Who knew a rich guy like Chrissy's dad could have so much hate over a few simple words? Fathers being overprotective was one thing, but this was just plain overkill. Well, at least he won't have the satisfaction of just scaring me away from his daughter. I hit the ground before I could contemplate the ways of the universe. A crack and then everything went black. Last thing I saw before it went quiet was that first smile she ever gave me. All things considered, for a no-name aspiring writer cut in his prime, it was totally worth it just to make it this far. Totally.
Our Seperate WaysRock Solid was anything but at the moment. Hunched over his desk, its surface strewn with updated and discarded work-out schedules and diet plans, he smushed his face with both forehooves. Staying in shape and keeping healthy was his talent, and looking over his planned routines usually lifted his spirits. But on this day, a day he never imagined he would be dreading, they did nothing for him. A tap at his bedroom door was followed by the voice of his roommate, Sweeps. "Hey Rock, are you coming out or not?" "No need to; I'm busy thinking up another routine." "Really? Doesn't look like it to me." Rock turned with a start and saw that the easy-going unicorn stallion had entered his room silently, but he turned back to dwell more angrily in misery. Despite his attempt to seem as unapproachable as possible, Sweeps came up to him regardless. "It's the last chance you'll get to see her for a long time, man," he said. "Don't you want to see her off at least?" "Nah, there's plenty others there to say goodbye. No need for me to be whatsoever," Rock replied while scrunching his face. Sweeps merely sighed. "You're one of her long-time best friends. She'd definitely want to hear from you." "She's probably too busy getting ready to leave by now. Ah well." Tailwind. Sweeps wasn't far off in saying she and Rock were longtime friends, in that they knew each other since grade school. Some silly pegasus filly getting picked on her first day at school, and Rock hadn't been feeling too pleasant to let that kind of thing slide. It wouldn't have been far off either to say he was the first friend she made in Ponyville. "Can't believe you're just gonna ditch her like that," Sweeps said, bringing Rock's focus back to the present. "Totally not cool, y'know?" "It's not that it matters," Rock snapped back. "She's got an awesome career with new friends and other great things. No time for her to worry about some school buddy." She wanted to be a Wonderbolt. That's all Tailwind talked about when they hung out at recess, even though she was a clumsy flyer. Rock was all about training even in those younger days, and offered to help her out. It started off as mostly goofing around on her part, but she soon started to take it seriously when she noticed his frustrations. She got better over the years, and he got more buffed, and they had even started a small-time exercise studio to earn some bits on the side. Sweeps entered the picture when the studio grew into a business, and not long after that Tailwind started applying for the Wonderbolts. There were rejections and tears, and Rock was there to get her back on her hooves and try again. Then the day had come when she finally made it. She was ecstatic, and he couldn't have been happier. "Dude, you suck at hiding it. Just go and tell her, while you still can." Another call to Earth from Sweeps, and this made Rock hunch over even more. "Tell her what? There's nothing to say. Besides, even if there was, why tie her down to some muscle-headed earth pony? Her dream is in the air, and she's been on the ground long enough." Sweeps shook his head and turned to leave. "Alright, just mope away then. Though, haven't you considered she feels the same for you? Think about it." Sweeps left with the door open and Rocks further bogged down in himself. "It wasn't supposed to be like this..." he grumbled. Friends, that's all they were. He was some rough brute who trained her and kept the bullies back, nothing more. She deserved better, someone more gentle and can give her the sky. Yet how he felt around her, and the way she trusted him, looked at him when they were alone. "...DAMMIT!" Rock flipped over his desk and stormed out of the room—through the desk—>—, bounded down the stairs and out the front door, almost trampling Sweeps in the process. The ponies in the streets made clear, as they better well should, Rock thought. He had a carriage to catch, and no one was stopping him!
RendezvousThere were nights when she felt herself alone upon arrival. On these nights she experienced a dead solitude, an isolation that didn't invite deep thoughts or a deserved rest from the world. Yet to her surprise, she wouldn't stay alone for long. Hello there, beautiful. It's been a while. It was a familiar presence: brusque, arrogant, but also intelligent and even playful. It had indeed been a while since she last felt it, and experienced a mixture of comfort and uncertainty that made her quiver slightly. "I missed you." I know you do, sweetheart. All the ladies can't get enough of me. Such obnoxious self-indulgence, but she knew that it was different when he said it around her. A somber twinge of nostalgia went through her. I see you've been doing well without me. "Yes. There have been lots of others for me to look after, and in turn so many to look after and care for me. Though, none have ever come off the same as you." A bellowing laugh shook the air. Others would have thought it cruel, but she knew it was just his own unique trait. Ha ha! Ever the sentimentalist as always, my dear. "Oh? As I recall, you yourself were quite sentimental from time to time." Yes, well, that was a long time ago. Ancient history to be precise. "Indeed..." For a brief moment it had felt the same as it did back then, with her at ease before his towering presence. It went away quickly as she stared off. She sensed him approaching. Things were so much simpler then. No responsibilities, no rules or doctrines to uphold. Just us and the world as our playground. "They were simpler times, but all things must grow older, and face the world with new-found wisdom and understanding." Serious as always. Something that I find both endearing and meddlesome about you. With all your wisdom, you still fail to see the importance of staying young at heart and partaking in a little mischief. "...Not if it meant hurting others." Distaste filled her as the ugly side of her memories began to rise. It was all in good fun, my dear. "No it wasn't. Ponies suffered, whether directly or from the disharmony you insisted on creating." The whole harmony thing again? Guess it's in your nature, as wanton chaos is in mine. She felt his embrace, firm yet gentle and warm. Her resolve began to shudder and her vision grew cloudy, willing her being to remain still. We can start again, you know? Leave the responsibilities, find a new land, be whatever we want to be without disrupting your precious harmony. She felt herself breaking, but remained focused. "Always wanting the easy way out. Why couldn't you live with stability? Why didn't you think any of it was important enough to adjust? Was there nothing of significance to you in it?" It came off as begging. Pitiful. He suddenly grew cold. ...As I said, it's in my nature. But I understand. He let her go, and she felt him drift steadily away. I pose a threat to your precious dream, and thus won't bother you further. It's either one or the other between us. For you, precious Tia, I humbly submit... "WAIT!" Celestia awoke in a cold sweat, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. Alone, once again, in the darkness. —past the bed—>
Supply and Demand"What? You have got to be kidding me! No way it costs that much!" The music store clerk just tapped a hoof mindlessly on the countertop, not even looking at the seething customer before him. "Sorry, I don't make the prices." "But it's 'Mule from La Mancha'!" the customer, Patter, shouted. "It's, like, forty years old. No way it costs thirty bits!" "Well, it's the only one in the store, and last I heard, forty years makes it an antique," the clerk said with a smug look. This only pissed off Patter more. "This is an outrage! You win this day for now, wage slave, but I shall make that CD mine." Patter stomped away from the counter, leaving behind his desired claim and an ever indifferent-looking clerk. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out." Back on the streets of Ponyville, Patter was hardly two yards from the music store when he entered another tirade. "I can't believe this. After weeks of perusing I finally find my prize, only to have it caged by the greedy claws of capitalism! Such ingrates; how else will I be able to practice singing 'The Impossible Dream'? Hardly any stage company plays it, and the Internet still doesn't exist for some reason." He turned back to the store to raise a hoof in hateful defiance as he lifted his volume to the heavens. "Do you not see the suffering you inflict on the everyday consumer, your very life source, ye damned LEECHES!" A passing mother and child stopped at this exclamation, the mother looking more uncomfortable than perplexed, as was her son. "Mommy, why is he yelling at the store?" "It's because he doesn't have friends to teach him better. Always remember that." The two scurried away in fear of getting involved in Patter's verbal crusade against the captains of industry. However, he turned inward instead and contemplated deeply, and also vocally. "Hmm, in order to get what is rightfully mine, there is only one logical course of action..." The city of Ponyville, nighttime. A lone hoodied figure stalked up to the music store window, brick in hoof. "Anarchy!" The brick was thrown through the oppressive pane of glass, allowing Patter to hop in and abscond with the captive soundtrack. Unfortunately, he then noticed the burglar alarm blaring as he made his exit. "Who the hell installs an alarm system in this town?" He didn't have time to further ponder the anomaly as the shouts and rabble of the local law reached his ears. Uttering a swear, he made off for the alleyways, but the cops were hot on his tail. Despite knocking over trashcans and some impromptu parkour, Patter found himself corralled toward the town hall. Rather than stop and surrender, he called upon his musical theatrical spirit and leapt up to the second floor, scaling the roof up to the top. By this time a crowd had gathered, and magically-trained spotlights were on him. "Come down at once or we will fire!" the police chief ordered. "Never!" Patter cried. "It's my duty, my PRIVILEGE to right your unrightable wrongs, ye fascists!" The menace to societal order continued to climb up from hell for a heavenly cause until he made it to the very precipice of the building. With the grandeur of the moon at his back, Patter brought up his hooves, holding his prize in triumph. Just then there was a gunshot, and the CD flew from Patter's grasp. In desperation he reached out for it, involuntarily leaping from the roof in a dramatic fashion. "~To reeeeeach the unreachable STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!~" Thus the tyrant fell from his madness along with the cause of his downfall, and many an "iunno" was given that night by the populace at large. But the show wasn't over, apparently, for at that moment someone in a suit holding a sword fell onto the roof of the town hall, bouncing across it and over the edge. He grabbed it just in time, right as a kook in a cape landed solidly a few steps from him. Waving his fashion about, the moon gleaming off a mostly hairless head, the man looked to the crowd below and called out to the night. "~Let The Bass Kick O-oooooooooo AAAAE-A-A-I-A-U- JO-oooooooooooo AAE-O-A-A-U-U-A- E-eee-ee-eee AAAAE-A-E-I-E-A- JO-ooo-oo-oo-oo EEEEO-A-AAA-AAAA!!" The citizens could only dance wildly as rave lights flooded the town square and every foundation shook to a mighty bass. However, the suit with the sword seemed the only one unaffected, as he pulled himself up onto the roof and, once sure-footed, charged and swiped at the emcee. Said emcee spun away, his face red from both singing and indignation. "Don't disrupt me when I'm SINGING!!" His attacker paid no mind as he raised his sword once again, but he didn't have time to bring it down as the party master turned, dropped to his hands and delivered a mule kick to the swordsman's chin, launching him high up into the night sky—> Atuhor's Nose: What's this I don't even... (A cookie to the one who knows the above reference)
