Exercise: Death of a Brotherhood Girl

Last night, you were back in the Mojave Wasteland. You were scrounging around an office building with some guy, fellow scavenger you guess. You ran into a group of Brotherhood girls, all decked out in colored power armor. They’re downstairs, you’re up. They ask if you’re armed. You say all you’ve got is an envelope you pretend is a gun. You wave that paper thing in the air. Looks like a g-mail clickable, white with a red flap.

The girls guffaw. One heads up your way, looking to trade. You brush her with the envelope, just as a joke. Haw Haw, little envelopes gonna kill a girl.

Then she’s flung across the room. Slams into a desk, ragdolls into the wall. Her head explodes into blood and guck, blood particles floating in a thick mist.

Death by physics glitch. It was over before any of you realized it.  Terrified, you stare at the envelope in your hands. You don’t dare drop it, lest it kills someone else next. Maybe you.

The Brotherhood girls call up after her. You don’t reply. The guy you’re scavenging with doesn’t either. He just stares at you, dully surprised. He’s the hardened type. He’s seen this kind of thing before. Way too many times.

The Brotherhood girls call again. They’re no longer laughing. They’re gonna start shooting, you know it. One of their friends is dead. They’re gonna kill you too.

Finally, you open your mouth.

“She’s dead.”

They don’t understand. Neither do you. You just keep blabbing. You’re a talker. You talk your way out of everything. Another winning line comes out.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You stumble down a few steps, envelope crunched in your hand. You can’t see anything. It’s all blurry. It’s because you’re crying. You just drop down on a step halfway down and you just start bawling your eyes out. You didn’t mean to kill anybody. You didn’t mean to take their friend from them. It was a physics glitch. A stupid, horrible, glitch in space.

That scavenger guy comes down after you. He doesn’t even look at you. He’s probably seen his fair share of pathetic displays. Doesn’t want to add one to his memory. He talks to the girls. Gently points them in the direction of an opened nudist vault, because, you know, they’re tech folk, you’re tech folk. Maybe they should swing themselves by New Vegas, and here’s a few caps for their troubles. Doesn’t make up for the death, of course it doesn’t. But as you can see, the young lady…

All eyes turn on you. The young lady didn’t mean nothing by it, he says. It was just an accident. No sense filling us full of holes over an accident.

Well, the Brotherhood girls pack right up and leave with the body of their friend, actually embarrassed by your breakdown. You calm down long after they’re gone. Head back upstairs, just trying to get back to business. The envelope of death is still crumpled in your hand. You carefully drop it in a bare corner, where the physics won’t fling concrete chunks or desks at you and your friend. Scavenger guy rolls his eyes, and pokes around the bloodstained desk for anything that might have fallen off the body. Hardened motherfucker.

You should probably remember his name now. I mean, he did just save your life and all.

Requestercise: Twilight on the Horizon

No.

I doubted you would understand this predicament. Even I, with all of the breadth of my eternal knowledge, with the thousands of years I have stood in witness to life, have only barely begun to understand. Perhaps this is a topic mere mortals can recognize instantly and flaunt the advice of their time, but I assure you, such practices have changed endlessly, often several times within one pony’s short lifespan.

When I was a youth, the courtship was tucked into the folds of economic and social gain. Today, it is about feeling. How do you feel about this thing of flesh and spirit? Do you feel like you would enjoy exchanging a kiss? Do you feel like you’ve properly gauged the reactions of a pony who’s mind you’ll never truly know? Oh, this feels like something you’ve never felt before? Then of course this must be love.

So, you seek to tell me that there is happiness within my reach? That there is a set, correct way for an immortal like myself to prod and twist little Twilight Sparkle until I’ve turned her heart into mine? Oh. Perhaps. Given time, it’s easy enough to transmute respect and devotion into something more.

I’d merely have to gut the pony she was to get at those feelings. I’d merely have to rearrange her makeup into something perfect. Something for me, and myself alone. Make her into a little toy that foals tuck into bed with. Perhaps, that could be an option.

Yes, perhaps I will flick her little speck of life back with the shifting rainbow slurry that is the rest of my subject. Perhaps I will negate the very reason I found her interesting in the first place…

Or perhaps that was not what you were suggesting at all. I apologize. I have seen such repetition in mortal words.

And immortal ones, if I was to be frank.

“In truth, my sister, I only can tell you of mutual feelings,” my sister would say over her tea. “If things were mutual and even, I would recommend taking time for such things to surface. I mean… you are rather the patient type, my sister!”

I would not have responded, drinking my own tea in a practiced, elegant silence.

“If the feeling is not mutual, then for somepony raised in this age…” Luna would smile hesitantly, her heart so plainly in her hoof. It was almost insulting how easily she let her feelings get away from her. “I often visit the dreams of the unrequited. They relate to me the confusing mood of the times. Honesty is valued, yet so many fear how their lives may become upset by a confession.”

“Well!” I would say, mimicking a careful joy. “At the very least, it’s good to hear my little ponies hold truth in such high esteem!”

“Yes, it is quite nice to return and find the country still so chivalrous… though do not ask me for more details!” Luna would laugh, “Out of respect for the privacy of dreams.”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t be the one to intrude.”

“So, my sister…” And then, Luna would smile so coyly over her tea, and I would know exactly what she would say next. “Why do you bring up the topic of love? Is this about a certain special somepony?”

That’s something that has changed, I will think. The crass overtaking of the word ‘someone’ and its transformation it into a pony-centric derivative. I found the term problematic, but if it was in common practice these days, then what could I do to fight a shift in lingual practices?

“I cannot deny that it is a topic I ponder some days,” I will admit, “It presents such an interesting puzzle. You know as well as I that the equation called ‘love’ was never my forte.”

And Luna will laugh, “Oh, anybody who claims to be an expert is a liar!”

“I beg to disagree. I present the exception in Young Princess Cadence.”

“Oh.” Luna would fall silent for a moment. “Yes. That is her, ah, field…” She would laugh. “Forgive me sister, I am not very familiar with her, or what realm of power she has embodied to become what she is. In any case… if she is the expert, could you not talk to her about this subject?”

“Oh, I doubt I could. While perhaps she could tell me of mortal’s love, she’s much too young to understand the woes of immortality.” And then, calmly, I would say, “I mean, she did just marry her first mortal. From that alone, it’s clear she fails to understand the implications of her longevity.”

I would expect Luna to look disheartened for a moment. Oh, but in the end, she’d be smiling. “Oh, do not be such a downer, sister. I am sure Princess Cadence will enjoy her many years with Shining Armor.”

“And how many years did you ‘enjoy’ with Discord? Did those nice feelings outlast the first century?”

“Oh hush!” She would laugh loudly, trying to hide that little bit of pain in her eyes. “You can be so vindictive when this topic comes about! Is that jealously I am detecting, Celestia?”

“The only thing I envy would be how simple everyone seems to think this subject is. If it was so nice and straightforward, then would I not have found a solution by now?”

“I doubt it,” Luna would have said absentmindedly. “Love is senseless and messy. Maybe even something mortals come up with to make baser urges more attractive. Oh!” She would have laughed lightly. “That sounds like something a younger Discord would have said, does it not?”

“I wouldn’t know,” I would reply, “You knew him so much better than I.”

“Do not be so silly! We were all such good friends…”

And then my sister would have retreated into her cup, eyes wistful, nostalgic for another day. And maybe from those eyes, I could have seen what it really meant to be in love. With pressing, perhaps I could glean the words I needed from my sister, not through her words, but through her reactions. Through every look and every hidden meaning. Such a disgustingly open book, my sister.

This conversation never happened. Or perhaps it did. Perhaps I was already planning for it, plotting the little seeds to get at exactly what I wanted, even if I barely knew what that was. Oh, I wanted love, I am sure. But the divides were all still such a pertinent ones. Immortal and mortal. Wise and gaining wisdom. Confused need and positive placidity. Possible love… and firmly certain veneration.

Were they ones to be breached, or should I do as my subjects do, and respect—

“But if anything, my sister, you have time now!”

My eyes snapped up. I was at the table. I just had that conversation. Luna was in front of me, teeth wetly exposed as her smile peeled across her face. I stared at her snout, caught in the curve of her nostrils as they rose and fell, faking breath.

Focus, Celestia. Compose yourself.

I said bluntly, “Whatever do you mean, my sister?”

She rolled her eyes, confidence in her posture. “I can see your wisdom in keeping the Elements safe until you were sure, but these girls are it, do you not think?”

“It.”

“They are the true Bearers, born at last! The six young spirits who truly represent the Elements of Harmony! Dear sun and moon, that certainly took a while to find our replacements, did it not?” She laughed, filled with relief. “Nearly two thousand years! With Discord and I already gone once! Sorry for me to intrude on your thoughts, but what exactly are your plans regarding their alicorn training? I mean, they have the luxury of learning directly from the old masters about the rule. So much more than we had, is it not?”

I had quite nearly said, ‘The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.’ But at least all my years of careful practice saved me. The thought was confusing, yes, but then another thought came just as quickly. And just as quickly, I made sure it went no further than my mind.

I am Celestia, the Sun of Equestria, Her Eternal Guardian and Princess.

I am not in need of a replacement.

Especially not a replacement in Twilight Sparkle.

~~~~

(Happy ending? With a Celestia like this?

Surely, you jest.)

Requestercise : Twilight Has a Calm and Rational Response to an Outlandish Situation

(I’m so sorry, but the moment I saw this request, this was exactly the story I came up with:)

~~~

“Applejack!” Twilight cried. “This is horrible! So horrible!”

“I’d say this situation is rightly awful, Twi. Ponies. Turned inta flesh-eatin’ monsters. Forced t’ prey on their good old friends and family. I don’t rightly know how to cope with th’—“

“Do you know how many calories are in a single pound of pony flesh?!”

Applejack blinked. “Uh… we talkin’ lean or fatty meat?”

“3000!” Twilight sobbed, “Just in a single pound! Discluding bone mass, an average pony is comprised of roughly ONE MILLION calories!”

“Yer exageratin’ Twi’, can’t be that much…”

“No I am not!”

“Well uh… Given th’ um… Situation. Is that a good thing, ‘r a bad thing?”

“Applejack. Look at me. I’m serious.” This was rather difficult for the orange not-pony, as Applejack was pretty much the size and shape of a one-ton triffid, but she managed. Twilight did look rather serious for a plant. “Now answer your own question.”

“Uh… I’m a’gonna go with a bad thing.”

“YES! It’s very bad! I mean, I barely know how plant biology works! How do I retain fat? Are the lipids just going to slide off of me if there’s too much for my body to handle? Am I just going to expand in mass? Is a body even able to process such a high calorie content at once?!” Twilight Sparkle moaned, sobbing into her leafy arms, which were actually just really big leaves. “Is the fat going to go to my butt?! I don’t have a butt, Applejack! My entire weight distribution chart is now thrown COMPLETELY off!”

“I… I didn’t rightly think you cared much for your weight, Twi.”

“I set my dieting routine years ago, double checking and adjusting for deviancy every single month! My projections were rarely incorrect, but now… Now?!”

Twilight sobbed tears that were probably sap or something. Applejack struggled with herself. Comfort friend? Scold friend? It was the most difficult moment of her entire life as a pony-eating plant.

“Yes,” Applejack said dully, “This is pro’bly the biggest problem we face right now.”

Twilight nodded through her sticky tears.

“We’re going to have to set up a system. I estimate that one pony should hold us for an entire year if we’re properly prepared. Perhaps we should clean and split the bodies for easy digestion, but only after we’ve gotten an accurate estimate of the subject’s weight so we know our exact caloric intake…”

Applejack rolled her eyes. Half an hour as a flesh-eatin’ plant, and Twi’s got us counting calories…

“Twi’,” Applejack said sharply, “If one pony’ll hold us for a year by your reckonin’, then shouldn’t we spend th’ time figurin’ out how to fix this mess?”

Twilight took a sharp intake of breath, and looked like the was about to launch off on another tirade. But instead, she stared at the sky, breath still held in her polleny lungs.

“Yes. Yes… that does seem like a much better course of action…”

“Okay then.”

“But we really should figure out our new weight distribution—“

“No.”

“Okay…”

~~~

(So, I’ve got a lot of requests, and I’m going to be picking through them here and there. One thing that surprised me though was people who thought I was going to write longer or multichapter requests… XP

I should have made it clear that most of what I’m going to do is flash fiction, between 500 and 2000 words. Whoops! But I still thank everybody for their fun ideas. I hope the next few weeks (days? months?) will be a entertaining ones.

And don’t think because I’m writing means I’ve stopped taking concepts either. Feel free to request at any time, I will be here to butcher your cherished dreams and process them into cheap entertainment. Yay! ^^)