Hopefultality

by Mindless Dream

Rating: teen
Tags: Twilight Sparkle, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Rarity, Tragedy
Length: 3214

Twilight Sparkle died ages ago. Who is this lavender mare that takes her place? And why is Light Heart going by Rarity now? Rarity is dead. (A collab between wtfboom88, Tyreese-le-Tyler43, and I)

My name is Twilight Sparkle. You may know me, but you don't. I died fifteen years ago. The school bully, Clever Clover, took my identity after I died of natural causes. She's lavender with a pitch black mane, highlighted, we all know the face. And Rarity is a gray mare with a flat orange mane that lurks around with her. One day, Rarity stopped coming to school. And Light Heart, white, purple, used to be poofy mane, if you know her, started acting like her. Damned if I know. My friends Candy, cheeriest pony alive, Sugarfree, true to her name and condencending, and Whisper Door, an autistic stallion, are the only thing keeping me going. Well, too late for that now.

Published 2013-02-21 02:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-04-10 21:28:49 UTC

1: Preamble

My name is Twilight Sparkle. You don't know me. You might, but that's not me.

Fifteen years ago, I died.

I had friends like Sugarfree, Whisper Door, and Candy. I always figured they had strange names. Well, a short description of them: Sugarfree was red with a pink mane, think weird candy cane, with a quill cutie mark. Really sarcastic, and quite the character, let's say. In the way most people don't want to be around her. Also, she lives up to her name. It's a rough world out there, and she's willing to take it.

On a totally different note, Candy is one of the happiest mares I knew on my time among the living. Her bright appearance usually cheers everypony up. Although this cheeriness ofter drives ponies away. Many dislike her. She has a brick red mane, and a periwinkle coat. Her cutie mark is a sun.

Whisper Door is about the strangest ponies I knew. He was autistic, in a way nopony knew a name for. His problem was, if things didn't go exactly to plan, he'd sit down on the ground and start making noise. His brain knows no better way to react than "Merp merp merp merp merp" and etcetera.

And my name? Twilight Sparkle. I am gray with a midnight blue mane. And fifteen years ago I died of natural causes.

Or so I thought.

My life was rough.

There was this one bully. Named Clever Clover, after Clover the Clever. Well, this Clever wanted my life. Perfect grades, dysfunctional friends, parents that loved me. All Clever had was her fake friendships, her fake moral, and her makeup. Pff. Drama queen.

Clever Clover was lavender, with a pitch black mane. As her life progressed, around five, she got her hair highlighted purple and pink. Always hanging out with some chick Rarity. She was gray, but darker than me, with an orange mane. She kept it straight. Emo straight. Rarity always had her eyes on this one filly, Light Heart, who was pure white and had a purple mane, which she always kept poofy. Rarity glared at her all through arithmetic, and during social studies. The word "Jealous!" went through my mind every time I saw this. But something about the stare wasn't right. Rarity was practically generating a heat beam she stared with so much hate and Light never seemed to notice! It was strange.

After one class, I caught up with Whisper Door. Whisper was being stranger than usual that day. I tried grab his attention a couple of times, but he ignored me. After around the third time he sank his head and began to mutter "merp, merp, merp" under his breath, but didn't sit down and scream it. I asked him what was wrong.

"Not in the mood, Twilight!" he yelled and walked faster past me. My next class was in the opposite direction. I sighed and simply labeled it as Whisper Door. The next class was Language Arts. Didn't want to miss that.

The strange thing was, the entirety of Language Arts and Reading, Clever Clover was staring at me. With the facial expression Rarity used on Light. Something in my brain was clicking, and I didn't like it.

Not one teensy bit.

After school, language arts is the final class, I met up with Candy and Sugarfree.

Candy was in a really good mood, but that's to be expected. She jumped to give me a hug upon seeing me, and Sugarfree just laughed at us.

"You guys are crazy. High horn," Sugarfree chuckled and waved her horn in my face. I clinked it with mine. "What did you get for homework?"

"Page 34, numbers 21-29, 36, and 48-51 from Ms. Green Wood, a basic teleportation spell from Ms. Diamond, and page 50, numbers 1-7 from Ms. Shimmer Jewel," I listed, mimicking each teachers voice on their assignments. This made Candy giggle.

"Ah. The dreaded P50 from Jewel, and I think Diamond isn't trying," sighed Sugarfree. Page 50 from Ms. Jewel was busywork. And teleportation spells as well, from any teacher. "Personally, I think Diamond just thinks it's funny to lock the door and expect the students to teleport in and out of the room. One time, I heard Clumsy Right teleported into the door and broke it off its hinges, and that's why the door squeaks."

Clumsy Right is a CSGU urban myth. Weird or obnoxious things that happen around school are blamed on him. For instance, the supposed reason the toilets flush on their own in the colt's restroom is because Clumsy Right sat on one that wouldn't flush manually, so he tried to use magic to swirl the water down, but that didn't work and he ended up enchanting every toilet in the room.

I'm one of the only ones who don't believe it. The other four, out of this 1,036 student school, were Sugarfree, Light Heart, Whisper Door, and Ms. Diamond. I believe Ms. Diamond, she's worked here longer than anypony but Celestia herself. I realize not adding Princess is disrespectful nowadays, but I'll get to that. Back on the subject of Sierra Diamond: She's never had a child under the name of Clumsy Right. That's not even a name. We can all agree that Clumsy isn't even on the approved first name list! The second, but not first.

Clumsy Right had not the right to exist.

And what were we going to do about it? Nothing. The broken pipe that could never be fixed in Mr. Copper's room would continue to be a rocketing accident with Clumsy Right, and other ridiculous rumors.

Always to be spread and recreated.

The three short stories you were just told are all actual eyewitness events of the students of the class of '62, by you human's standards. One day, after I haunted a bit, or whatever it is I've been doing, I thought of that year. 1962. This is 2013. That's when it hit me.

I've only been conscious for fifteen years. It's been 51. Quite a mix-up.

And by pony standards it's been fifteen years. Right now Clever Clover is, what, 31? High school was 15 years ago. Eleventh grade was hell.

Heh. I died in hell.

There's a new enemy at every corner, if you pay attention. A new crazy for you to intersect, a new archnemesis for you to battle. The only problem with this philosophy is that, unlike most philosophies, it's true, and it has an equal and opposite reaction. Getting science on you, no? Well, the equal reaction is that once you beat this new demon, there's a new one to make you drop everything you're doing and go kick it's ass. The opposite reaction is that every time you kick a problem's ass, something good happens, whether you know it or not. Let's say you have a major alcohol addiction. You get over it. You have no money, no friends, and nothing to turn to, to keep your mind off it. Ditching your alcoholism did you no good, right? Wrong. I never said it was good for you.

Because you're not going to the bar anymore, the store owner no longer has a loud, rambling, creeper drunk laying around, and young, new drinkers find it safe to come here now. A lot of these young women. They'll all buy drinks, kaching. Older men and ones their age will come to the bar and buy these girls extra drinks, in hopes of "getting some", double kaching. And, also, you have a dead end job you put to bills and paying off your tap. So that's no longer running him into the hole and he's getting paid. Extra kaching.

See, by quitting drinking and going from a lifeless, lonely drunk guy, to some random lifeless, lonely guy that does Bob Susan's copies, and helps other customers around said Kinko's, who also sits around and wonders why only this Kinko's hasn't been bought out by FedEx, never realizing it has, you've made a bartender and bar owner very rich and happy, and people know that when they go to Yippie's, to ask for Gonzales Resanta. The best bartender in all of Soandsoesville. All because some measly drunk stopped shopping there.

I just went off on a tangent, but you catch my drift. By overcoming your problems, you help others overcome theirs. Well, I learned this. Not the hard way, but not the easy way, either. I've also discovered if you say something that sounds deep and philosophical and relate it to real life, thinking way to hard about it the entire time, you sound smart.

Anyway, learning this the neutral way. One fine day, Whisper and I were hanging out down by the creek, when none other than Rarity comes up behind us and clonks our heads together. I spin around on the attack to see her grinning evilly at me.

"Aww, you two are such a cute couple!" she sang. "Wait until I tell everypony!"

"You wouldn't dare spread lies!" I pointed a hoof at her. She just bit her bottom lip in examination of the back of her hoof.

"It's my specialty," she smirked. "So, would you like to have been kidding or holding hooves on a romantic stroll?"

"The stroll, but I'm not letting you spread that rumor!" Whisper shouted. Rarity sighed.

"You really don't get it, do you? There's no way around it. I'm making you two lovebirds," she made a heart with magic in the air and pulled us together with it. "Stroll, you say? Well, necking it by the creek side it is. Which it would have been either way."

"You can't do this!" cried Whisper. I nodded sternly. "Don't, or else!"

"Or else what? You'll merp at me?" taunted Rarity. Whisper began to struggle with the heart binds.

"Or I'll kick your fu--" began Whisper, but was cut off by a violent spasm. "Fu- fu... En... A-ah.... Bi-b-b... Bitch!" he managed through the muscle flailing.

"How sweet he manages to talk just for me. I had no idea your autism was type two! Or do you have multiples?" continued Rarity, either unaware she was killing the stallion to my right or too heartless to care.

"Stop it! You're killing him!" I shouted.

"Stehp eht! Youehr kehllehng hehm!" Rarity mocked. "Ah, he'll be fine, he'll just never be able to move again!"

With knowing what I was doing, I shot a blast of knockback spell at Rarity, grabbed Whisper Door, and frigging ran. For the nearest hospital, adult, police officer, I didn't know. I just hoped to Celestia he'd be okay.

The next day at school, there was a rumor that I tried to kill Rarity. Better than playing tongue hockey with one of my best friends.

Better than most things.

Author's Note

Before I go on a birdwalk, here's my point. This first chapter is a collection of short stories. In order, here are thier names and who wrote them:
1st: Introduction (Guy)
2nd: Death Glare (Treven/Henry)
3rd: Clumsy Right (Tyreese/Guy/Henry)
4th: To Die In Hell (Guy/Treven)
5th/6th: Ripple Effect (Guy/Henry)
The reason the 5th and 6th stories are run together is because they operate under the same name and aren't seperated.
Hello. My name is Guy Quinton, Mindless Dream. This story, as you may know, is a collab between Tyreese-le-Tyler43, a editor with a knack for writing comedy, wtfboom88, a writing team of two teens, an ideas man and a writing man, and I, Mindless Dream, AKA Exit Conflict, a writer extraordinaire, and proud clopper. Luckily for all you anti and non cloppers, I won't be sexing it up until I write Curiosity. A story I have an idea for. Involving the Cutie Mark Crusaders. And dildoes. Is that the plural of dildo?
Shut it, Guy. No one wants to hear your Rule 34 bullshit.
Maybe other cloppers, but how many of those are there? I'm sure
the answer is outrageous and unreasonable.
Probably more than you know.
Shut it you three. The underline is Treven and Italics are Henry. The wtfboom88 writing crew. And the blue is Tyreese-le-Tyler43
I'm the WTF half.
I'm the BOOM half.
And they each get an eight.
Let us give our own backstory.
COOL IT, YOU THREE!

2: Preliminary

I remember the night after the incident with Rarity, I was sitting alone in my bedroom, ignoring my father grumbling about a hard day at work from down the hall. I wanted to die. Shrivel up. Disappear. But then I remembered all the good things in life and decided shriveling wasn't the way to go. All the good things in life like... Like... Well, you know what I'm talking about. Good things. And the friends and family I'd be leaving behind. And, how does one just "shrivel"?
Really, shriveling up made no sense, so I decided not to. But I did have to put an end to any bullying. At least done by Clover and Company. Or by anypony, for that matter. But I just said that. Okay, here, I had to focus on Clover and Rarity for just right then. The reign of terror had to end.
I had to devise a plan. Whisper Door was afraid to talk to me, Sugarfree was hesitant to do anything, and so I had Candy. Candy would be all sorts of fun. And by fun I mean annoying. And by all sorts of I mean in every way possible.

Urgh.

Of course, I couldn't just jump into the battle, I had to have a plan. A plan. Plan, plan, plan. Say it enough, sounds funny. I had no idea for a plan. Plan, need a plan. Beautiful plan, one to rock the ages, be remembered.
Around the thirty-first time I said "plan", which actually had started to sound funny, I realized I needed a plan. Damn, there it goes again.
Candy was inarguably on my side. The conversation might as well have started with "yes", but there had to be one to tell her what had to happen.
"There's something I must ask you," I recall beginning. Her eyes lit up brighter than my grandad when he bet against a winning team. She nodded vigorously. "There is no clear plan, and there's a high chance we'll fail..."
"Yes?!" Candy was practically jumping.
"...but the bullying scene in this school has to burn to a stop..."
"And?!"
"...and I need help."
"YES! Yes, oh yes, I will do it!" she had started jumping. Oh, how did I predict that? Candy is sweet, but as I said previously, can get annoying. Although I had premeditated their responses, the good simeritan friend within me wouldn't have it but to still ask them.
Sugarfree, of course, was cynical and pessimistic about the situation. Said we couldn't stop it if we tried. And I knew it was true. I had heard of other stories of bully intervening attempts. Not pretty. Ever wonder why Twist has a lisp? Oh, you don't know her, do you? Alright, nevermind. Still, it was pretty bad.
Pretty bad.
But who would buck Candy in the face? And that's who I was working with. Seeing as a certain Whisper Door almost had an attack when I asked him! I mean, for the love of Cadence! The colt started sweating and spewing nonsense, and I had to tell him to forget it before he did the... thing.
I sighed. Nothing was working out. I felt like merping just then. Little help, no backup, not much of anything worth going on, and two major problems looming over me like giant pillars of trouble.
Clever should be easy, I thought at the time. I mean, while Rarity had street smarts, Clever had little less smarts than trends and fads. While Rarity was tough, Clever was a pansy. While Rarity was quick and sharp-tongued, Clever wasn't exactly the brightest bulb (much less clever). But there was one setback in this optimistic idea.

While Rarity was all these things that Clever wasn't, Clever had Rarity.

I hadn't gone over such things in my head at the time. I was blissfully unaware that Candy and I were walking right into open graves.
Now, before we get into the battle royale, which I do not literally die in, just socially, don't worry, we have to get into getting into it. If that doesn't make sense, just listen.
Candy was actually the one who came up with a plan. We, first needed to get over this vague "stop the bullies" jist. There had to be a way, a reason, a method to the madness, and a superrifically good plan to "stop" them, first. Her words, not mine. Here's what she meant. A way to "stop" them, so there had to be some direct approach, a planned downfall, a tactic. The first step of this tactic was to find a way to "stop" them. So, we needed a reason, a specific deal that would cross the line, so to say. So we needed to create a way for them to cross this said line, a madness that would snap one, and it needed a method, a way for it to happen. Ergo, a method to the madness. All of these things put together, with a little glue to fill the gaps, would be a good plan. Superiffically good, as Candy said.
Sadly, neither of us were smart enough to figure it out.
Luckily, a poor, fellow bullied soul spoke out one day.
Smart one at that.

Lucky for us a little light-hearted filly overheard our plans. Bad pun, I know. Here's how it went down, basically. I'd have just told you earlier, but the events leading up to it were pertinent.
So, this happening... right after Candy's little speech about plans. A feeble, accented voice spoke from behind us.
"Maybe I could help...?" she whispered, scaring the majeebus out of both of us.
After recovering from the shock, which took about three seconds, don't worry, I turned and responded. "Sure! Whatchya got?"
"Well, um... I know some stuff about Rarity. Personal stuff," she bargained. Candy nodded, interested. I, on the other hoof, was unsure.
"How ready are we to take on such a big power as Rarity? Let's take Clever first," I insisted. Light shrugged.
"Well... That does make sense," she agreed. "I... I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I overheard you needing a plan. I may be your mare. I think I have a plan!"
"Go on...!" Candy encouraged.
"Well, here's the deal with Clever. She... isn't exactly clever, so she should be easy. What we need to do is humiliate her, make her lose face. Once she loses some renown, she'll be respected less. So, then, we humiliate her again, not too soon after the first time, but not too far away, either. I have an idea for the first time. But, it's still not ready. But, I can have it ready by... Say, you open Sunday?" she explained, having us nodding the entire time.
"Yeah, I'm game," I confirmed.
"Sure, why not?" beamed Candy.
"Great, meet me in the town square at noon this Sunday!" she decided, packed up her stuff, and left.