Please Allow Myself to Introduce… Myself
Canterlot was home to a great many fine, upstanding citizens that ran equally respectable businesses. There were restaurants that could convince any lover of fine dining that he had died and gone to heaven, cafés with breathtaking views of the city, and enough culture and sophistication to make even the most reserved socialite squeal with glee.
The bar that Lightning Dust was drinking in had none of those things. The wine was helpfully labeled "pinkish-red" and the vodka smelled frighteningly similar to rubbing alcohol. The tables were dirty and needed to be wiped down, but the bartender didn't look up to it. In fact he seemed genuinely shocked that he had a customer.
Lightning Dust had been to plenty of taverns and bars, but none that were quite this neglected. She couldn't understand how in Equestria a place like this could stay in business. She wanted to drown her sorrows while waiting for her contact, not die of some obscure disease spawned in an unwashed shot glass.
Eventually the pony Gilda had told her about arrived. He was a stocky earth pony with a pair of sparring gloves for a cutie mark. His mane was fiery red and his coat was a sunny yellow. The colors reminded her of Spitfire, a comparison that she was slightly uncomfortable with. A green pegasus pony followed him, dull as he could possibly be without literally turning invisible. Both of them wore a pair of plain saddle bags. "You must be Lightning Dust," the earth pony said cheerfully. "Gilda said you were here to join our organization."
"I'm here for the freakin' support group, okay?" Lightning Dust spat. She finished her shot and tossed the glass to the bartender, who fumbled with it in his hooves before managing to catch it. "Let's just get this over with. One of my gal pals said you'd help me get over being shot down by the Wonderbolts."
"As you wish." The earth pony shook her hoof and flashed a welcoming smile. "I'm Hot Blooded! Do you know why you were made?" Lightning Dust's answer came in the form of a blank stare and a gesture for another drink. "Come on, don't be shy! It's confusing for all of us at first. I promise not to make fun of you."
Lightning Dust pressed her hooves to her closed eyelids and tried to block out the rest of the world for a moment. She wanted another drink, but promised herself that it would be her last for the night. She didn’t want to become an alcoholic. "What are you talking about?"
"You know, like how I was made for a gritty underworld fighting tournament. What's your purpose?"
"I want to join the Wonderbolts," Lighting Dust sighed. "I haven’t got much of a chance at that anymore."
Hot Blooded and his friend nodded sympathetically. "Most of us don't do exactly what we were made for," he said. "It isn't your fault."
"Uh-huh." Lightning Dust grabbed her glass from the bartender and signaled more insistently. She was just beginning to get frustrated when a pink blur caught her attention. A cheerful mare with an extremely curly mane bounced into the room, decked out from head to hoof in brightly colored clothes and jewelry. “Isn’t that one of the elements of harmony?” Lightning Dust asked. “What’s she doing here?”
The newcomer squealed in excitement when she saw the bar’s other customers and seized Hot Blooded and his friend in a bone-crushing hug. “Hi everypony!” she exclaimed. “Who is this?”
“This is Lightning Dust,” Hot Blooded said. “Lightning, this is Gypsy Pie. Her real name is Pinkie, but there are a lot of Pinkies here. It gets confusing if we call them by their real names with all of them gathered in one place. Anyway, Pinkie… uh, Gypsy Pie was created to be comically miserable. She’s here because she wants to learn to be happy.”
“And I have!” Gypsy Pie exclaimed. “Things are sooooooo much better here! I have great friends for the first time in my whole life!” Hot Blooded’s pegasus friend blushed at the physical contact. “I’d better get going,” Gypsy Pie continued. “I’ll see you inside. Otherworld Castoffs forever!” The green pegasus waved shyly as she bounced away, hoop earrings jingling merrily.
Lightning Dust was beginning to think that there was something seriously wrong with this place. “I think you’d better start explaining yourself,” she said. “What’s going on here? How can there be more than one of the same pony?” She pointed to their pegasus companion. “And why haven’t you introduced him yet?”
Hot Blooded and his friend shared an anxious look. “You aren’t here for the Otherworld Castoffs support meeting, are you?”
“I don’t know!” Lightning Dust was tempted to grab him around the neck and throttle him until he gave her the answers she wanted. “I’m here for the weekly meeting of ponies looking to improve themselves! Is that what you’re doing? What in the hay is an Otherworld Castoff?”
“The dark powers meet on Thursdays,” Hot Blooded said. “You came on the wrong night.”
Lightning Dust fell forward onto the table with a resounding thump. “I give up,” she sighed. “I’ll just go home. Have fun with Hipster Pie or whatever.”
“Gypsy Pie!” the pegasus corrected. He seemed surprised by his own words and fell back into silence.
“What’s your deal, anyway?” Lightning Dust asked. “Don’t you have a name?”
The pegasus stared sadly down at the table, refusing to look her in the eye. Hot Blooded grabbed his friend in a brotherly hug and ruffled his mane in an attempt to cheer him up. “Nope! This here is my best pal. He wasn’t given a name, so I do most of the talking for him.”
“She asked about the rest of us,” the nameless stallion mumbled. “You know, the OCs.”
“Yeah, I guess she did.” Hot Blooded cleared his throat and sat up straight in his seat, obviously about to give a speech that he had rehearsed a thousand times. “All ponies are not created in the same way. Most of you are born, but we are not. We do not know where we came from. Our memories are often strange and bizarre, but none of them are real. Sometimes they don’t even match our personalities.”
“So what, you just pop out of thin air?”
Hot Blooded shrugged. “Maybe. None of us knows for sure when our memories end and the real world begins. For example, Gypsy Pie was taking her yearly trip to the old farmstead when she discovered that her parents were still alive. She doesn’t know if she started existing at the farmstead or on the road leading up to it.”
The green pegasus spoke up, though he seemed reluctant to do so. “Blood makes it seem a bit weirder than it really is,” he said. “Most of us just go on with what we were doing before. We find a job and settle in. This group is just for those of us that have trouble adjusting.”
“I don’t think I believe you.” Lightning Dust lapsed into silence for a while, thinking about some of the stranger things she had seen in Equestria. “Then again, there are some pretty weird ponies out there.”
“Yeah, we’re a strange bunch!” Hot Blooded laughed. “Seriously though, I think most of us are just screwed up versions of normal ponies. Maybe the universe has a hiccup every now and then or something. Take a look at my friend’s cutie mark.”
The nameless pony turned around. His mark was a picture of a strange device that Lightning Dust wasn’t familiar with. “Looks sort of like a flat typewriter,” she said.
“It’s a keyboard,” the pegasus explained. “Not sure why I know that. That can happen sometimes; we remember weird stuff that doesn’t fit with the rest of the world. It’s like being in a television show with interference from another channel bleeding over.”
“What’s a television?” Lightning Dust asked.
Hot Blooded facehooved, and did so perhaps a little too hard. “We’re getting off topic,” he said, rubbing at his forehead. He would likely have a bruise in the morning. “The point is that we were created differently. Nopony knows how, but one theory is that we came from another world. Gypsy Pie thinks there are thousands of Equestrias in a bunch of different different universes. That’s where group gets its name; we’re the Otherworld Castoffs because we were thrown out of other worlds.”
“That’s assuming that you think Gypsy Pie is correct,” his friend added. “Some of us just think we’re the result of magic gone wrong.”
“Anyway, we get together once a week and talk. It’s not too formal or anything, but it helps.” Hot Blooded waived to the bartender, who pretended not to notice. “Groups like us are probably the only reason this place hasn’t been closed down.”
Lightning Dust wanted to give up and go home, but she found these ponies oddly intriguing. She was either learning something very strange about how the world worked or viewing it through the eyes of a madpony. It was interesting, if a little confusing. “Mind if I stick around?” she asked. “I don’t have much else to do tonight.”
“Sure!” Hot Blooded yanked his friend out of his seat. “C’mon, Nameless!”
*****
Lightning Dust – or “Dusty”, as Hot Blooded now insisted on calling her – had never seen so many strange creatures gathered in one place. Ponies of all shapes and sizes were sitting in the crowd, slouched on folding chairs that had been set up in concentric circles for the occasion. Some of them had far too many colors in their manes, and others had manes that clashed with their coats. She saw more than one pair of bat wings in the crowd, even though bat ponies were exceptionally rare in Equestria.
The bat ponies weren’t the strangest creatures in the audience. She saw several ponies with griffon paws, multiple alicorns, and even diamond dogs. Every intelligent species in Equestria seemed to be in attendance, along with a few that shouldn’t have existed at all.
“We’ve got a newcomer!” Hot Blooded yelled. The entire room turned to face them, causing Lightning Dust to take an involuntary step back. At least half of the eyes watching her were glowing. “This is Dusty. She was supposed to be here for the meeting yesterday, but she’s hanging out with us for tonight.”
“Hi, Dusty!” the group chorused.
“We’ll start sharing in a bit,” Blood continued as he nudged his nameless friend. “How about it, pal? Feeling up to it today?”
“Maybe,” Nameless said.
Hot Blooded seemed to accept the answer at face value. “Come on,” he said to Lightning Dust. “I’ll show you around. There are some wicked awesome ponies here.”
Lightning Dust tried to smile, but her nerves got the better of her and it came out as a grimace. She warily trotted around the perimeter of the room, eyes on the lookout for any sign of hostility. It wasn’t that she was afraid; she just wasn’t used to being around so many dangerous creatures. Nope, she told herself as she eyed a muscular griffon that was talking to a dragon, I’m not scared. Being scared is for losers.
Hot Blooded began introducing her to some of his friends, but she kept getting distracted by a large cage sitting in the corner of the room. It was made of iron and very sturdy, with a thick padlock on the door. A dirty pink pony crouched inside, watching the proceedings with a sullen expression.
These OCs might not be as harmless as I thought. Being different is fine, but what if they’ve kidnapped somepony? Lightning Dust looked around at the other group members, but none of them were even looking in the pink mare’s direction.
I can’t ignore something like this. Lightning decided to wait until Hot Blooded and his friend became distracted, then sneak away. She soon got her chance when a tiny black alicorn foal caught Hot Blooded’s attention. “Where are your glasses, Mr. Blood?” the filly asked. She watched owlishly from behind a pair of spectacles that made her eyes appear almost comically large.
Another filly, this one ivory white with a multi-hued purple mane, frowned crossly. Her pupils contracted like the iris of a camera and her voice grated out of her mouth in a lifeless drone. “Your statement designating corrective eyeware as fashionable apparel was a fallacy!”
Lightning Dust snuck away while Hot Blooded fished around in his saddlebags. She skirted several groups of talking ponies and a few remarkably civilized diamond dogs before finally reaching her goal.
A line of yellow tape circled the cage’s base. The pink mare watched her from behind a limp, dirty mane. Lightning Dust was horrified to see that she had the same cutie mark as the Pinkie Pie lookalike she’d seen earlier. They’ve kidnapped one of the elements of harmony!
“What do you want?” the mare barked. “Come to gawk at Pouty Pie like the others? Am I really that interesting?”
“Uh, I’m not sure.” Lightning Dust stepped a little closer, stepping over the yellow line on the floor. “Who are you? Why are you in that cage?”
‘Pouty Pie’ looked interested for the first time. “Y-you don’t know?” she asked in a harsh whisper. “You aren’t one of them, are you?”
“You mean an OC?” Lightning asked. “No, I’m not. I showed up on the wrong night.”
“Help me!” the caged mare hissed. She pressed her face against the bars and bit back a sob so that nopony else would hear. “You have to call the guards! I’ve been locked up here for days. I-I don’t know what they’re planning, but they already took away one of my friends!” Her tears were starting to cut through the grime on her face. “They took my Dashie! Please help me! Don’t let them hurt me!”
Lightning Dust leaned in a bit closer to the cage while pretending to casually brush her mane out of her face. The door was only a few yards away, and she was pretty sure she could make it outside without being caught. She hadn’t trained very hard since getting kicked out of the Wonderbolt Academy, but she was still in excellent shape. She could be at the closest guard station before Hot Blooded and his little friend could blink, let alone try to stop her. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I’ll be back in twenty seconds flat, and every guardspony in the city is coming with me!”
A pair of strong, calloused hooves wrapped around her neck. Hot Blooded pulled Lightning Dust away as easily as she might have picked up an empty beer can. She panicked at first and tried to fight back, thinking that she was about to be locked away like the poor mare in the cage. “Stop struggling!” Hot Blooded warned. “You’ll just hurt yourself!”
The unhappy Pinkie Pie lunged forward and reached for her, grimy hooves sticking through the bars and grasping for her mane. Her hooves fell inches short, reaching only as far as the yellow tape on the floor. She howled like a windigo and rattled her cage in frustration. “Come back!” she shrieked, her mouth stretching into something almost like a smile but too cruel to be sincere. Somehow she had filed her back teeth into sharp points. “Come back and play with Pinkie!”
Lightning Dust felt like her heart was about to explode out of her chest. The color had drained out of her face and her legs were shaking so badly that she almost collapsed. “W-what’s wrong with her?” she asked.
“That’s Pinkamena.” Hot Blooded made a feint toward the cage and the crazed pony within shrank away. “She keeps reaching through the bars, no matter how many times you twist her stupid hooves the wrong way!” Pinkamena stuck out her tongue, but stayed on the far side of her cage. Lightning got the impression that she had learned not to reach for the muscular earth pony anymore.
“Sometimes we turn out wrong,” the nameless pony said. He was hiding behind his friend like a foal cowering behind its mother. “Nopony knows why. Pinkamena’s only here because Celestia and Luna think these meetings will help her. After that she goes back to the dungeon.”
“Pretty green pegasus ponies make perfect pastries!” Pinkamena sang. The pegasus shivered in response.
“Just ignore her,” Hot Blooded warned. “She’s pretty good at messing with your head. She’s never been able to mess with me, though. I’m way too smart for her!” He ignored his friend’s quiet snickering. “Let’s find somewhere to sit!”
Lightning Dust did a double take as she noticed his new eyewear. His sunglasses looked positively lethal, the lenses sticking out away from his head like the points of a ninja pony’s throwing star. “Nice shades,” she said. “Do they pick up basic cable?”
“How do you know what that is?” Nameless asked.
Hot Blooded pushed his sunglasses further up his nose and grinned. “Say what you want, but mares dig the glasses.” He gestured to a group of empty chairs in one corner of the room. “Come on, let’s sit down. We’re about to start sharing.” Lightning Dust followed her rescuer, casting one last look back at Pinkamena. ‘Nameless’ was right; everything about that mare was horribly wrong, right down to her creepy smile and scary teeth.
The group passed Gypsy Pie on the way to their seats. She waved energetically, her anklets and other jewelry jingling like tambourines. “Celestia help that mare if she ever has to sneak up on anypony,” Hot Blooded muttered. Nameless timidly waved back and Hot Blooded nudged him forward with a little too much force, causing him to stumble. “Dude, there are like eight Pinkies running around here. If you can’t talk to the jingly one, try one of the others. Just make sure you pick one that won’t murder you.”
“They aren’t the same pony,” his friend argued. “You should know better than to talk about them like that.”
“Yeah, whatever. You mind telling me why she’s so special?”
The pegasus looked thoughtfully at the pink gypsy pony. “She’s happy. She remembers a lot of awful stuff, but she isn’t bitter or jaded about it. She doesn’t resent the world for what happened to her.”
Hot Blooded grinned, and for a moment the room’s dim lights reflected off his glasses. Lightning Dust got the feeling that he spent a lot of time practicing that pose. “Sounds like you’ve given this some thought! I’ll admit that she’s a pretty awesome pony. Still, you know she’s still really insecure about her looks.”
“What are you trying to imply?” the nameless pony demanded. “She’s very pretty!”
“And does she know that?” Hot Blooded asked. “I’m not telling you to take advantage of her or anything, and I’m not disagreeing with you. I just think it might do her good to know that somepony feels, you know, that way about her.”
Nameless stared at his friend with a mix of irritation and admiration. “You’re really smart all of a sudden. I don’t think I like it.”
Hot Blooded threw a foreleg around his friend’s shoulders. “Just stick with me, pal! I’ll have you rolling in mares in no time!” The pegasus stretched his wings forward to hid his face as several ponies gave them odd looks. Hot Blooded waved at a passing alicorn. “Oh look, it’s Trollestia! Hi, Trollestia!”
“For the real Celestia’s sake sit down and be quiet before she sees us!” his friend pleaded. Hot Blooded reluctantly did as he was told and the trio waited for the meeting to begin.
Lightning Dust prodded the nameless stallion teasingly. “So what’s going on between you and the party pony?” she asked.
“Nothing. She doesn’t even know my name.”
Hot Blooded facehooved for the second time in five minutes. “I can’t believe you just said that,” he groaned. “Come on, man! You can’t keep letting the same things keep you unhappy. There’s a pretty mare that already likes you sitting right across the room. Why are we still having this conversation?”
An alicorn sitting near Gypsy Pie stood up and stomped his hoof for silence. He was covered from head to hooves with shining black armor, and his mane sported the telltale membranous web of a changeling. “We’re about to begin!” he called. “Has anypony seen our fearless leader?”
The entire building shook violently. A section of the ceiling that had recently been painted over exploded as a grey cannon ball hurtled into the room. The alicorn let out a shriek that he would probably be embarrassed about later and dove out of the way.
The grey blur crashed to the ground with such force that it cracked the heavy wooden planks of the floor. A pegasus stumbled out of the cloud of dust caused by the impact and sat down on an intact chair with an exhausted sigh. “Ouch.” She held her head and winced at what was undoubtedly a bad lump. An ominous crack filled the air. Her chair collapsed, and the grey pegasus tumbled to the ground yet again.
The alicorn with a changeling’s mane stepped forward and helped the pony to her hooves. The chair glowed with his magic and reassembled itself in short order. “Thanks,” she mumbled shyly. The alicorn hugged her and then trotted back to his seat.
“Who is that?” Lightning Dust asked.
Hot Blooded shielded his mouth from view and whispered when he spoke. It was the first polite thing he’d done all night. “That’s Derpy. She’s been here longer than any of us, and she’s done so well for herself that most of us don’t even consider her an actual OC anymore. She’s sort of our role model.”
Lightning Dust stared at the strange grey pegasus and, after a while, noticed something extremely off about her. “What’s wrong with her eyes?”
“No idea,” Hot Blooded said. “She’s the sweetest mare you’ll ever meet, but she’s unbelievably clumsy. Try not to stare, okay? She’s kind of sensitive about it.”
Lightning Dust tried her best, though she doubted that Derpy would have noticed. She was too busy addressing the group from the center of the circle. “Let’s get started!” she exclaimed, all embarrassment forgotten. “I’m sorry for being late. Things have been going really well for me, so we’ll just skip my turn. Who wants to share?”
“Song first!” Gypsy Pie shouted. “I have a sharing song!”
Derpy and several others forced a smile while the rest of the group groaned. “Maybe later,” she said pleasantly.
An alicorn in the outermost ring of chairs stood up. He was almost as well armored as the pony Derpy had nearly killed, and his mane glowed like a tastefully styled bonfire. “I-I’d like to go, if that’s alright,” he mumbled, eyes glued to the ground. The crowd leaned away as he passed, trying to make room for his absurdly large frame. When he eventually made it to the middle of the room the floor creaked under his weight.
The group waited while he collected his thoughts. “Hi everypony,” he said timidly.
“Hi, Disharmony!” the group chorused as one. Disharmony gave a tiny smile and politely cleared his throat.
“I don’t share very often,” he began. Gypsy Pie shoved a hoof into her mouth to keep from bursting into song. “I think the problem is that maybe there isn’t very much to say. I’ve got a lot of bad memories about taking the throne from Celesita. Really, though, who doesn’t?” Every alicorn in the room laughed. “I used to have more magical power than the solar sisters and Discord combined. I could have unmade all of Equestria with a thought, but these days I find it hard to lift a teacup.”
Nameless leaned over to whisper in Lightning Dust’s ear. “Something happens to the really powerful magic users before they come here,” he explained. “It doesn’t matter how big and bad you were before; you’re still a normal pony when you get here.” He started to pull away, but then added something else: “Maybe not normal exactly, but you get the idea.”
“I was basically Discord before there was a Discord,” Disharmony continued. “It’s almost like something created me, but then abandoned me when someone more interesting came along. That doesn't… doesn't feel very nice.” He wiped away a tear that had trickled down onto his helmet. “I never wanted to be a king anyway; I get panic attacks when I’m around too many strangers. I wouldn’t make a good leader.”
After some quiet contemplation he brightened in more than one sense of the word. His mane threw off a noticeably stronger glow as his frown turned into a smile worthy of Pinkie Pie. “Some of my paintings sold in an art show last week. It wasn’t much, but it means somepony liked my work.” He meekly returned to his chair and sat down. “And uh, that’s all I suppose.”
The group clapped politely as another creature stood up. This one bore only a passing resemblance to a pony. It had a normal face, but a feathery body and clawed feet. Its canine ears swiveled back and forth as it watched the group through the slit pupils of dragon eyes.
“Hi, Rover!” the group said.
“Yeah, hi.” Rover looked extremely unhappy to be talking about his problems, but pushed ahead anyway. “I guess I’m sort of a mess. I’m part pony, part griffon, part diamond dog, and part dragon. I think there’s even a little changeling mixed in somewhere. It’s like somepony couldn’t decide what they wanted, so they tossed every intelligent species they could think of into one person.
“The only thing more screwed up than my genetic code is my diet. Every meal is a struggle. I get sick if I eat meat, but ordinary pony food tastes boring and bland. I sure as Tartarus couldn’t choke down a gem even if my life depended on it.” The hybrid scratched the back of his head and dislodged a few feathers. “And I shed and stuff. Somepony really should have thought twice before putting me together.” He stood awkwardly silent for a while, then grudgingly muttered something to himself.
Derpy cupped a hoof to her ear. “What was that?” she asked.
“I said I’ve been making pretty good money lately!” Rover snarled, scowling at the cross-eyed pegasus. “I like my job. Happy now? Can I sit down?” Derpy rolled her eyes (in two different directions) and let him go. She waited for Rover to return to his seat before looking at the rest of the group expectantly.
A handful of creatures obediently followed Rover’s example and discussed their problems with the group. A unicorn in a blue jumpsuit missed the taste of Sparkle Cola, a pegasus felt self-conscious about having tie-dyed wings, an earth pony was trying to come to terms with being named ‘Butt Stallion’, and several ponies were suffering from abandonment issues after discovering that their romantic partners had no memory of them.
Almost all of the nonexistent relationships in question were with one of the Elements of Harmony, but one stallion insisted that he remembered courting Princess Luna. Her royal guards had not been amused when he requested entry to her bedchambers.
Finally, just as Lightning Dust was starting to get bored, Hot Blooded’s friend stood up. The dull murmur of conversation that had sprung up while the group waited for the next speaker fell silent.
Unfortunately, so did the speaker. An intensely awkward silence descended on the group, punctuated by the occasional cough and Gypsy Pie’s harshly whispered song. “Step one: close your eyes and breathe in deeply! Two: dry your tears and stop your weeping!”
“Hi everypony,” the pegasus finally said. “I’m… me.” With no name to echo the group resorted to a quiet chorus of greetings that was not loud enough to destroy the fragile momentum he had built up. “It’s nice to meet you.” The rest of the group seemed disappointed when he sat down without another word, but the shy pegasus looked incredibly proud of himself.
The last pony to share was Gypsy Pie. She bounced to the middle of the room and spun around to great everypony individually, starting with a changeling named Alphonso and continuing alphabetically until she finished with Zorn, Crusher of Gods. “Does she do that every time she wants to share?” Lightning Dust asked.
“Pretty much,” Hot Blooded sighed. He was slouched down in his chair, sunglasses dangling from his nose and eyes unfocused from boredom. “Nice mare, but she talks a lot.” His nameless friend didn’t share his apathy toward this version of Pinkie Pie and was listening intently as she rambled on about anything that crossed her mind.
Lightning Dust was able decipher only a tiny bit of the massive flood of useless information. Gypsy Pie liked her job, had lots of new friends, donated to an orphanage, and so on. None of it had anything to do with being an OC, which probably meant that she was considered very well adjusted. That was good, but it didn’t make her any easier to listen to.
Eventually Derpy had to interrupt. “Um, Pinkie?” she asked. She ignored the eight voices that answered. “We’re almost out of time. Would any of the other Pinkies like a turn?” A host of pink ponies, all of them sitting in the front row, shook their heads. Two of them were wearing red and black jumpsuits, one was hovering a few inches above her chair, and another was sporting a yellow and white color scheme and a pair of wings. “Then I suppose we’ll move on to our oath! Everypony join appendages, please.”
The entire group began to recite. Most of them were cheerful, a few were solemn, and one was singing:
“I am not a nopony.
It doesn’t matter how ridiculous I look
Or how convoluted my past might be.
I am not a mistake.
I am worthy of my own respect.
There is nopony I’d rather be than me.”
“I’ll see you all next week!” Derpy yelled as the group broke apart and loudly began discussing their plans for the rest of the night. “Don’t forget to tip our friend behind the bar!” As they filed out the group made sure to do as the walleyed pegasus asked. Each of them dropped a few bits into the pickle jar sitting at the end of the bar.
Lightning Dust wasn’t ready to return home. Home was a lonely apartment and weather patrol duty in the morning. Home was an empty fridge and an uncomfortable bed. It was what she could afford, but not what she wanted.
Luckily her new friends weren’t ready to call it a night either. Hot Blooded threw his leg over her shoulders and pulled her in the direction the little group was going. “You should come to the Gilded Trumpet with us!” He grabbed Nameless as well. “We’ll all go out drinking! It’ll be great!”
Lightning Dust pretended to be reluctant, but she knew she wasn’t fooling anypony. “I suppose I could go for a drink,” she said.
“This’ll be so much fun!” Hot Blooded exclaimed. He somehow managed to drag both of his friends down the street despite only having two hooves on the ground. “I’m gonna drink until I can’t remember how pants work!”
Gypsy Pie giggled. “You don’t wear pants, silly!”
“No, but I could if I wanted to. That’s going to change.”
As they walked, Lightning Dust felt her mood improving. She hadn’t been truly happy in weeks, ever since the captain of the Wonderbolts had looked her right in the eye and told her she wasn’t good enough. Now, strolling through Canterlot with two strange ponies that she had just met, the world seemed just a little less miserable.
Author's Note
EDIT: This story has been changed very slightly. My comments down here have been shortened to help the story flow better in accordance with a pre-reader’s recommendation.
I’d still like to clarify that I’m NOT making fun of anybody with an OC.
The Gilded Trumpet turned out to be a charming little jazz club hidden away in an unremarkable part of the city. It was a well-kept secret by locals, who worried that too much popularity would ruin the pleasant atmosphere and intimate setting. It was a wonderful place to relax and take in the more subtle side of Canterlot’s night life. Nestled amongst the flashing lights and deafening dubtrot of the city’s nightclubs, the Gilded Trumpet was a tiny island of smooth serenity.
Lightning Dust had never been a fan of jazz music, but now she could see the appeal. She was relaxing in a booth with her new friends and nursing a gin and tonic while a talented cellist played on the stage next to the bar. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been so comfortable.
The only reason she hadn’t fallen into a content sleep right there in her booth was that Hot Blooded could not shut up. Pinkie Pie – there were no other Pinkies around, so her real name would suffice – and the nameless pegasus were politely trying to pay attention, but one of them was very distracted by the other. “So anyway,” Hot Blooded said as his friend cast another glance at Pinkie’s drink, “this guard is going on about what he knows and doesn’t know about fighting, and he keeps talking about his Rolling Stone technique.”
His narrative drew to a jarring stop. Lightning Dust shook the drowsiness from her head and finished her drink. “That’s it?” she asked. “You spent ten minutes telling that story. You might as well finish it.”
“I got tired of it.”
“But–”
“I could buy you one!” Nameless said suddenly. Pinkie was so startled that she almost let her empty glass slip out of her hooves. He coughed and looked away to hide his embarrassment. “I mean a drink. I could buy you a drink. C-can I buy you a drink?”
Pinkie had to stick a hoof in her mouth to keep from laughing. She was so obviously amused that it was impossible for him not to notice. The poor pegasus seemed to wilt, feathers and all. Just as Lightning Dust was about to give the gypsy pony a piece of her mind Pinkie threw her forelegs around his neck and pushed him out of the booth. “You’re so cute!” she laughed. “Of course you can buy me a drink, silly. I’ll buy you one too. We’ll trade drinks!”
Hot Blooded rubbed at his temples and took a deep breath. “Seeing him try to flirt is painful sometimes,” he sighed as the pegasus followed Pinkie to the bar. “I’ve tried everything I can think of. At this rate, he’ll be a bachelor forever!”
Lightning Dust considered getting another drink, but she didn’t want to overindulge. She’d already had too much. “Is it always like this?” she asked, determined to distract herself. “There are only about six group members here. Where does everypony else go?”
With an apathetic shrug Hot Blooded took another pull from his beer. “Nowhere. Everywhere. Does it matter? Some of us make friends, so we get together and talk for a while after the session is over. It’s just to blow off a little steam. I think some of us need it way more than others. Speaking of which, where’s Rover?”
An annoyed grunt came from the other side of the lounge. “Wow,” Lightning Dust remarked. “He has really good hearing.”
“You bet he does!” Hot Blooded said. “He’s also got a good memory, and he should know better than to think he can get away with not giving us a song.” The hybrid tried to wave them away and go back to his conversation with Disharmony, but Hot Blooded wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Come on, dude. Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with implied threats of violence on top?”
Rover’s claws scraped against his table as he stood up, interrupting the musician onstage just as she was finishing her song. “Sorry,” the hybrid muttered as the cellist began packing up her instrument. “I guess I need a trim. You aren’t packing up early, are you?” The cellist shook her head. “Good. I’m going to need a little backup. Care to help me out?”
The cellist unpacked her instrument and stood at the ready. Rover climbed onto the stage and grabbed the microphone. “You’re a peach, Octy. Mic, can you get the piano?” A stallion staggered drunkenly out of the audience and took his place at a piano that had seen better days. “Okay, good enough. Woody, am I good to go?” A mare with a cream-colored coat and multihued green mane made an adjustment to his microphone. Rover nodded to the assembled ponies, all of whom were watching him excitedly. “You all get one song, so make it count.”
“Do The Thing!” somepony shouted. The cry was echoed across the room, branching out from the group of OCs and on to the club’s regulars.
“Really?” Rover asked. “You could have anything, and you pick that? You don’t want something a little less morbid? I could do… no? Alright, if you say so.” He looked back to be sure that his cellist was ready. “You both know the drill. Mic, pal, will you give it to me?”
The cellist strummed her cello, the pianist played something that almost resembled music, and Rover began to sing. It was probably more like crooning, but Lightning Dust was no expert. “He’s really good,” she mumbled. “Does he do this often?”
“For a living,” Hot Blooded confirmed. “He’s a pretty well-known lounge singer around here. He’d have groupies following him everywhere if he didn’t look so weird. This is one of his most popular songs.”
Lightning Dust listened to the strangely morbid tune and tried to place it. When she finally recognized it, she had to fight the powerful urge to squeal and clop her hooves in excitement. “That’s The Voice?” she asked. “Why didn’t you say so? I wish I had my autograph book with me.”
“You could always come back next week,” Hot Blooded said. “We don’t normally let non-OCs hang out with us, but we could make an exception.” He directed Lightning Dust’s attention to the bar. “Check it out! Maybe my pal isn’t so hopeless after all.”
Pinkie was talking excitedly with her green companion. Lightning Dust couldn’t hear all of what they were saying, but she could guess what was going on. Pinkie was loudly rambling through a list of names, heedless of the noise she was causing. Her friend had to politely remind her to keep it down.
Rover’s song soon ended and he hopped off the stage as the audience begged for an encore. Pinkie paused long enough to politely applaud, then rattled off a final hooffull of names. “You could be Stock Ticker, or Type Set, or maybe Clackey Keys!” She giggled and finished her drink in one gulp. “I like that last one. It’s super fun to say, especially when you’re drinking. Clackey Keys, Clackey Keys, Clackey Keys!”
“I might like that one,” the pegasus said shyly. “I mean, if you’re alright with me using it.”
“Yay!” Pinkie cheered and motioned for another drink. “I helped! It’s super nice to meet you, Keys!”
Clackey Keys politely accepted her hug. “We’ve known each other for months,” he said quietly.
Lightning Dust still wanted another drink, but she made herself hold off for now. “That’s sort of cute, in a dorky kind of way.”
Hot Blooded crossed his front legs and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, they’re gonna get married and have little adorkable gypsy babies. I’m so sure.”
“Something the matter?”
“No! No, of course not. They look happy.” Hot Blooded tried unsuccessfully to look disinterested. For the first time that night, he seemed genuinely hurt.
“He’s been gone for less than five minutes!” Lightning Dust pointed out. “You can’t possibly be jealous already!”
“Am I being too clingy?”
Lightning Dust didn’t respond. She leaned over and rested her head on the table, too tired to argue with her bizarre new friend. It was getting late, and she just wanted to go home. She wanted another drink first, but then she’d go home. Probably. Lightning Dust stared at the bar, an anxious feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. “I should go,” she said. Her hooves were beginning to tremble. “I should really, really go. I don’t want to be here anymore.”
“Are you alright?” Hot Blooded asked.
“I’m okay.” Lightning Dust made up her mind and leapt out of the booth, making for the door as quickly as possible. She felt a not-quite-unpleasant shiver creep up her spine as she passed the bar and stopped in her tracks. She could have one more drink before going home. She could afford it, and this was a special occasion. There was no harm in drinking with friends.
A pair of rough hooves shoved her away from the bar. “You look like you could use some sleep,” Hot Blooded said. “I’ll call you a cab.”
“I’m alright. Can I come back next week?”
“Only if you promise not to drink.”
Lightning Dust pushed through the club’s front door and sighed. “Fine,” she grumbled. “I just don’t see what the problem is. I’ve only had a few today.” It was a lie, of course. She had been drinking since her shift with the weather patrol ended, and that was almost five hours ago.
Maybe it would be good to cut back a little. She had to get back into her training regiment, possibly go through a detox or something so that she could whip herself back into shape. Lightning Dust climbed into the taxi and waved goodbye, still wishing she had stayed for another drink.
As the cab pulled away she noticed another pair of ponies coming out of the club. Pinkie was lying across her friend’s back, blinking sleepily at the bright purple light of the Gilded Trumpet’s neon sign. Clackey Keys was singing to her quietly.
A bright pink stallion trotted out of the Gilded Trumpet after them and clapped Keys on the shoulder. “See u later!” he said cheerfully. “Same tim next weak?”
Lightning Dust felt a strange pressure building in her wings. One moment they were in resting position and the next, with no warning, they shot out to full extension with a loud flapping noise. She happened to catch a glimpse of his cutie mark: a red heart. “You bet!” Keys offered a hoof-bump. “Take care, Plot!” He watched the stallion leave, then went right back to singing.
Lightning Dust managed to pick out some of the words to his song as her cabby trotted away. “When I’m bright with jubilation there’s a simple explanation. You’re a wonderful creation and I’m glad to see your smile….”
“Wait up,” Lightning Dust told her cabby. “Let’s see if they need a ride.” Keys and Pinkie happily climbed into the seat across from her and the cab started off again. “What about that guy?” Lightning Dust asked. “Doesn’t he need a ride?”
“His apartment is just around the corner,” Keys said. “I just need to make sure that Pinkie gets home okay. After that I’ll head back and make sure Blood hasn’t killed himself with alcohol poisoning.”
“That’s nice of you.” Lightning Dust sank into her seat and wished the cabby would trot just a little faster. The alcohol in her system was making her feel uncomfortably warm, and a breeze would feel wonderful. She didn’t recall having that much to drink, but maybe she hadn’t been paying enough attention. “What’s with him, anyway?” she asked to distract herself from the sick feeling building in her belly. “Your friend, I mean. The pink one.”
Clackey Keys propped Pinkie Pie up in the seat next to him and sighed. “Some of us just weren’t created all that well,” he said. “Plot’s got the weirdest speech impediment I’ve ever seen. It’s like his brain just wasn’t put together quite right. He’s a really nice pony, but sometimes he just zones out. He’ll go perfectly still and just stare straight ahead for minutes at a time.”
Pinkie Pie had already fallen asleep and leaned against Clackey Keys for support. The poor stallion was now blushing so hard that he looked more red than green. He tentatively put one of his legs around her, apparently to keep her from falling onto the floor as the taxi hit a bump in the road. Sure, Lightning Dust thought. No ulterior motives here.
“What about your other friend?” Lightning asked sleepily. “He seems really happy for a guy going to a support group.
“He’s having one of his good days,” Keys said. “Blood had a lot of problems when he first showed up. The last thing he remembers before coming to Equestria was being in a fight.”
“So what?” Lightning asked. “Lots of you probably had fights. It sounds like most of you come from places that weren’t very nice.”
“This is different.” Keys hugged Pinkie gently, evidently determined to make sure she didn’t fall over. Unless, of course, she fell in his direction. “Don’t you remember what he said earlier tonight? He thinks he was created for a nasty underworld fighting tournament. One moment he’s fighting for his life, and the next he’s here.”
Lightning Dust’s foggy mind struggled to put the pieces together into something resembling a logical conclusion. “He thinks he died?”
“Not anymore, but for the first six months that I knew him, he was convinced that this was the afterlife. He was really depressed for a long time. It got so bad that he had to start taking medication for it. He still has bad days, especially when he has to be alone a lot. Sometimes he’s afraid to sleep. It’s like he isn’t quite sure if he can trust the world to be there when he wakes up.”
Lightning Dust couldn’t picture Hot Blooded as anything but dangerously overconfident. The loud, energetic earth pony looked like the living embodiment of confidence and excitement. The very idea that he could feel unhappy at all, much less sink into depression, was profoundly sad. “That sounds awful.”
Keys shrugged noncommittally. “It isn’t so bad these days. That’s why we go to the OC support group, right? We want to get better. That’s all anypony really wants. If you can’t be better than you are now, what’s the point of anything?”
Lightning Dust didn’t have an answer. She sat quietly until the taxi pulled up to her apartment building. Keys touched her shoulder when she climbed out of her seat. “Hey, um, be careful. Take care of yourself.”
“’Course I will,” Lightning Dust said dismissively. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“It’s just that, you know, I think you have a problem.” Clackey Keys drew in on himself a little as he spoke, and Lighting Dust got the impression that he was used to letting his friends speak for him. “N-not that I know a lot about that sort of thing. I just saw how you looked when you tried to walk by the bar.”
“I’m fine,” Lightning Dust assured him. “Don’t worry about me.”
Keys shook his head sadly and managed to move just a little closer. At least he no longer looked like he was trying to hide behind Pinkie. “Don’t tell yourself that. That’s something that me or Pinkie could tell ourselves, but not you. You’ve got more than just a few bad insecurities. You’re about to develop a serious problem, or maybe you already have one. Please get help, okay?”
The cabby pulled them away, an implied apology lingering on Keys’s face. He seemed almost ashamed to have spoken up, but Lightning Dust couldn’t be mad at him. Maybe, she decided, there was actually something not quite right about her life.
Maybe she really had a problem. Lightning dust sat down on the sidewalk, not yet up to the task of climbing the stairs to her apartment. She looked up at the big, empty sky above Canterlot and wished she wasn’t too drunk to fly. The clouds, stars, and moon seemed impossibly far away.
With the streets deserted and nopony around to see her, she started to cry.
*****
Several months passed, and Lightning Dust spent a lot of time around her new friends. She also went to the meetings of the ‘dark powers’, though from what she could see they were not so much dark as they were misunderstood and very confused.
She felt like she was making progress with her issues, but it was hard to know how much. She rarely shared with her actual support group and almost never spoke at the OC gatherings, but she felt better about herself.
It was probably all the exercise that made her feel so great. Lightning Dust had rediscovered her love of flying, and had spent all of her free time shooting around Canterlot at speeds that could make most pegasi hang their heads and wings in shame. She finally felt ready; she was in even better shape than before the Wonderbolt Academy, and her job as a weather pony was driving her insane. It was time to leave.
The weekly gathering of the dark powers went silent as she accepted her turn to share. “I’ve been doing really well,” she began. She laid an open envelope on the table in front of her. “I quit the weather team yesterday and sent in my application for the Wonderbolt Academy. This is just their acknowledgement letter, but I think I’ve got a good chance of getting in.”
Nightmare Moon cleared her throat politely. As the unofficial leader of the group, she often gave advice and directed the conversation in whatever direction was most beneficial. “We are most pleased that you have applied for admittance again. We wish you the best of luck.” Discord, who had been sitting next to the princess, leaned over and whispered in her ear. “What?” she asked. “I am not! I’m speaking for the group as a whole!”
A few other ponies had to share, but they didn’t take long. When the session was over, Lightning Dust stayed behind while most of the group filtered out into the evening twilight. The only other pony left was Luna, still sitting at the head of the table. “You have come a long way,” the princess said when they were finally alone. “I am very happy that you are pursuing your dream again.”
“Yeah, it’s great to be doing something I care about.”
“Might I inquire about your other problem?”
Lightning Dust had been expecting the question all night, just like every other night. She hated talking about it more than she had ever hated anything in her whole life. “I’m good. I haven’t had a single drink in three weeks. The only times I get close to anything alcoholic are when I’m with my friends, and they keep a close eye on me.”
“I am quite glad to hear such news. What of your friends? Are they well?”
“You could say that.” Lightning Dust began running through a short list of names. “Hot Blooded is still training Canterlot guardsponies, Rover is singing, Disharmony paints, and Clackey Keys got a job as an editor for a newspaper. He and Pinkie are pretty much insufferable these days.”
Luna was smiling and nodding, but stopped when she heard Lightning Dust’s mix-up. “Pardon me, but do you not mean to say that they are inseparable?”
Lightning Dust thought about the way they looked at each other, the late-night baking sessions, and the endless practical jokes. Pinkie had always been a prankster, and now she had a fresh perspective to help her with new ideas. “No, but you aren’t wrong.”
“I am pleased that you are happy. I am sure that the Wonderbolts will give you another chance to prove yourself.” Luna looked at the clock and, after some consideration, began to channel magic through her horn. “My moon rises. You should return home and rest, Lightning Dust. We will meet again next week.”
Lightning Dust launched into the air and nearly crashed into the roof. “Derpy usually leaves a hole there,” she explained bashfully. “Catch you later, princess!”
The night outside was cool and dry. Lightning Dust took a moment to savor the fresh air after nearly two hours of being trapped in a stuffy room with a handful of creatures much larger than herself. True to the goddess’s word, the moon was creeping its way through the sea of stars above her. She flew off toward home at a subdued pace, enjoying the peace and tranquility of Luna’s majestic night.
The tranquility was shattered soon after she reached her apartment building. Lightning Dust took her key from inside her flight suit and slid it into the lock. A sudden jolt of electricity made her shriek in surprise and tumble down the steps leading to her door. After a bit of fancy wingwork she righted herself in midair and climbed back up to her door, wondering what in Equestria was going on.
A hushed giggle came from the bushes by the door. “Pinkie Pie!” Lightning Dust shouted angrily. A pink blur, followed closely by a green pegasus that couldn’t quite match its speed, rocketed out of the bushes and into the night. “Just you wait until tomorrow night! You’re both ten different kinds of dead!”
Lightning Dust noticed windows lighting up all around her and quickly retrieved her key from where it had fallen. She gingerly touched it to the lock and, feeling nothing out of the ordinary, managed to open her door without any more trouble.
She didn’t know how Pinkie had electrified her lock. There was nothing on the other side that would cause a shock, and the lock itself hadn’t been tampered with. “Gypsy magic,” Lightning Dust grumbled. “Stupid, annoying gypsy magic.”
By the time she made it to her apartment, she was no longer angry. It had been pretty funny after all, and she wasn’t hurt. I’ll be fine, Lightning Dust thought as she got ready for bed. She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled around her toothbrush. I really will be, won’t I? I’m fine. I’m actually doing alright.
She still wanted a drink, but the desire wasn’t as all-consuming as it was before. She was in control. Lightning Dust went to bed and slept soundly, never once waking up thirsty.
Author's Note
Thank you guys for reading this. I hope you enjoyed it!
Also, Wreck-It Ralph is possibly the best animated movie ever.
