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Don't Speak
Don’t think about her. Don’t look at her. Don’t embarrass yourself any further. And for Celestia’s sake, keep your mouth shut. Talking will just make things worse.
These are the things I think when I see Rarity. At least, ever since last night at the Gala.
Despite myself, I picture her smile, that small upturn in her lips, giving the poise and elegance of a refined mare, yet with all the warmth of an eager young filly. Those soft, plush, and eager lips, with seductive, expectant eyes. I sneak a peek at her as she trots by. The smile is gone.
Yet another luxury lost to my own arrogance.
There is no “Hello, Prince Blueblood” when she passes, not even a slight nod in my direction. She makes every effort to avoid looking my way. For a brief moment, perhaps, she casts her gaze my way, but it is just as quickly withdrawn. No doubt with contempt. I can’t say I blame her.
My legs begin to shake. In trying times like these, I can’t help it. I want to call after her, say I’m sorry, and beg her forgiveness, but I stay rooted in place. My mouth opens, but no words come out. I wouldn’t know what to say anyways. Mother never taught me how to talk to mares my age.
Nobody did.
Mother spent thousands upon thousands of bits ensuring I get the best education in all of Equestria, but I still can’t have a plain talk with a nice mare without making a fool of myself. Mother said the mares would come easy to me, what with my wealth, good looks, and nobility. But they don’t. They don’t like me. They don’t want to be around me.
Mother lied.
Rarity must think nothing more of me than a pauper. In fact, lowlier than a pauper, for at least a pauper may have a disposition she fancies. I am a disgusting pig rolling in its own filth since birth, and I don’t know how to stop. Nobody wants to be around me because of how I am. Mother said I should just be myself, and ponies will like me. But the pony I am, nobody likes.
Rarity heads up to the castle gates, and my glance follows her. I try to muster all of my wherewithal to come forward and apologize. To say something nice like, “I regret how I acted last night” or “I’m sorry I was such a jerk” like they do in those stage plays I’ve seen. Truth be told, I don’t know what I’ll say, but I want to say it. For once in my life.
“Rar—”
She turns immediately, shooting me a white-hot glare full of disdain. It's that kind of petrifying gaze that makes you feel like a hole is being bored through your stomach.
My words fizzle and die in my mouth, leaving only an acrid aftertaste as I clamp my mouth shut. I take a step back and look away, pretending as if I hadn't said anything.
She turns back towards the castle gate without a second thought. The innumerable gears of the gate creak and churn while it slowly raises.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, knowing she can’t hear me. I kick the dirt. I should have just kept my mouth shut. I only make things worse.
She enters the castle and doesn't look back.
These are the things I think when I see Rarity. At least, ever since last night at the Gala.
Despite myself, I picture her smile, that small upturn in her lips, giving the poise and elegance of a refined mare, yet with all the warmth of an eager young filly. Those soft, plush, and eager lips, with seductive, expectant eyes. I sneak a peek at her as she trots by. The smile is gone.
Yet another luxury lost to my own arrogance.
There is no “Hello, Prince Blueblood” when she passes, not even a slight nod in my direction. She makes every effort to avoid looking my way. For a brief moment, perhaps, she casts her gaze my way, but it is just as quickly withdrawn. No doubt with contempt. I can’t say I blame her.
My legs begin to shake. In trying times like these, I can’t help it. I want to call after her, say I’m sorry, and beg her forgiveness, but I stay rooted in place. My mouth opens, but no words come out. I wouldn’t know what to say anyways. Mother never taught me how to talk to mares my age.
Nobody did.
Mother spent thousands upon thousands of bits ensuring I get the best education in all of Equestria, but I still can’t have a plain talk with a nice mare without making a fool of myself. Mother said the mares would come easy to me, what with my wealth, good looks, and nobility. But they don’t. They don’t like me. They don’t want to be around me.
Mother lied.
Rarity must think nothing more of me than a pauper. In fact, lowlier than a pauper, for at least a pauper may have a disposition she fancies. I am a disgusting pig rolling in its own filth since birth, and I don’t know how to stop. Nobody wants to be around me because of how I am. Mother said I should just be myself, and ponies will like me. But the pony I am, nobody likes.
Rarity heads up to the castle gates, and my glance follows her. I try to muster all of my wherewithal to come forward and apologize. To say something nice like, “I regret how I acted last night” or “I’m sorry I was such a jerk” like they do in those stage plays I’ve seen. Truth be told, I don’t know what I’ll say, but I want to say it. For once in my life.
“Rar—”
She turns immediately, shooting me a white-hot glare full of disdain. It's that kind of petrifying gaze that makes you feel like a hole is being bored through your stomach.
My words fizzle and die in my mouth, leaving only an acrid aftertaste as I clamp my mouth shut. I take a step back and look away, pretending as if I hadn't said anything.
She turns back towards the castle gate without a second thought. The innumerable gears of the gate creak and churn while it slowly raises.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, knowing she can’t hear me. I kick the dirt. I should have just kept my mouth shut. I only make things worse.
She enters the castle and doesn't look back.
First review. Usual disclaimer, my reviews are a mix of personal impressions, ideas how to improve the writing considering myself as the target and assorted ramblings. Feel absolutely free to ignore anything I say, or at most consider it feedback from a thin slice of your audience.
While this is an interesting interpretation, I'm having a difficult time reconciling it with what we saw on the show. Now, that could obviously be my fault.
The BB we see here is frail and immature but in a completely different way from what we usually see around. I like that. I also feel that you will need more context to sell it to us. You are working against tons of accumulated existing characterization, so we need to know more about him before we can easily accept your vision.
A vision I would gladly explore if you ever intend to expand it.
As it is now, it is interesting but causes me a bit of dissonance. Probably my fault, but I think it will be a common problem.
While this is an interesting interpretation, I'm having a difficult time reconciling it with what we saw on the show. Now, that could obviously be my fault.
The BB we see here is frail and immature but in a completely different way from what we usually see around. I like that. I also feel that you will need more context to sell it to us. You are working against tons of accumulated existing characterization, so we need to know more about him before we can easily accept your vision.
A vision I would gladly explore if you ever intend to expand it.
As it is now, it is interesting but causes me a bit of dissonance. Probably my fault, but I think it will be a common problem.
An interesting interpretation of Blueblood, but one that feels unfounded. He’d hardly be considered one of the nation’s most eligible bachelors if he repelled mares just by opening his mouth. At the very least, he’d be surrounded by social climbers who could tolerate him for his connections, not left completely alone. And, of course, there’s the behavior that would be unacceptable when interacting with anyone, regardless of gender. Tone down the attempts to make us feel sorry for him and you’ll be on the right track.
Again:
I find myself straggling in a day later and saying "I agree with >>FanOfMostEverything." :)
There's something here if you want to dig for it, author, but it'd take a bit more than a minific to unearth. If, for instance, you wanted to take the Blueblood-with-Fluttershy's-personality you've proposed here and try to show why his default in social situations is to behave boorishly. Or have him surrounded by sycophants who he usually treats terribly so he has no idea how to behave when he meets someone like Rarity. Or make him an unreliable narrator, convinced that he's just misunderstood while showing us that he's really every bit as awful as he was portrayed in the show.
There's a lot of things you can do with this idea, but just telling us "He's really a nice pony," well, that's one of the things they mean when they say "show, don't tell"...
Mike
I find myself straggling in a day later and saying "I agree with >>FanOfMostEverything." :)
There's something here if you want to dig for it, author, but it'd take a bit more than a minific to unearth. If, for instance, you wanted to take the Blueblood-with-Fluttershy's-personality you've proposed here and try to show why his default in social situations is to behave boorishly. Or have him surrounded by sycophants who he usually treats terribly so he has no idea how to behave when he meets someone like Rarity. Or make him an unreliable narrator, convinced that he's just misunderstood while showing us that he's really every bit as awful as he was portrayed in the show.
There's a lot of things you can do with this idea, but just telling us "He's really a nice pony," well, that's one of the things they mean when they say "show, don't tell"...
Mike
This is a good story, and I love the message, but it is telly. Granted, I do like the few showy bits where we see Rarity and her actions—those are the best parts.
It's easier to write a story by telling us a character's thoughts rather than by showing us (or interspersing show with tell), but it isn't nearly as impactful.
You write well. Now it's time for you to increase the degree of difficulty in your approach to writing. :rainbowdetermined:
It's easier to write a story by telling us a character's thoughts rather than by showing us (or interspersing show with tell), but it isn't nearly as impactful.
You write well. Now it's time for you to increase the degree of difficulty in your approach to writing. :rainbowdetermined:
Nobody did.
Nobody did? Well this is CLEARLY not pony. 0/10. Go join the author of Cranky Can't Write Nothin' in Scotland. Which we shall rename Scatland because of you.
I had trouble getting into this at first, simply because Blueblood seemed far more self-aware and sensitive than he's depicted in the show. And that contrasted with the way he distastefully compares himself to a pauper; I thought you were making a mistake trying to paint him as sympathetic while still maintaining his classist asshole persona.
Then I got to this part right here:
Mother said I should just be myself, and ponies will like me. But the pony I am, nobody likes.
And I figured out what you were doing, and I started to appreciate it a little bit more. Even that little personality snarl seemed a subtle, elegantly handled detail. If you wanted to expand and publish this, I think you might have it split between Blueblood acting the cad, and Blueblood reflecting on how he doesn't know how to be anything but a cad.
Or, in others words, not "show don't tell," but "show AND tell."
EDIT: I just want to point out the semantic ambiguity in my fake title for Happily Ever After*. Perhaps the solution to Cranky's problems is just a change of scenery.
Very well written, and had this been an OC, it would've worked great, leaving us slightly curious as to just what behavior could've been so bad, so mistaken, that rarity would react as she does here at the end. The problem is, this is Blueblood... we know what happened, and so what fails here is any reconciliation between the actions he took the night before, and the attitude he's showing here. If we are to feel sympathetic toward him, we need to see and understand why (from his perspective) his actions were what they were. We need to see that he thought he was being clever when he was really being rude, or that he thought he was taking pride in his station when really he was looking down his nose at others. To have sympathy, we need to see him justify at least some of what he did, not just show the regret afterwards when it didn't yield the results he expected.
The Great
Another interesting character take. Also helps offset naval gazing with some character action.
The Rough
That said, I'm kind of in the same boat as Xepher here. I just can't quite make this story connect back to the GGG as well as I would like, and that does hamper my enjoyment of the story.
Another interesting character take. Also helps offset naval gazing with some character action.
The Rough
That said, I'm kind of in the same boat as Xepher here. I just can't quite make this story connect back to the GGG as well as I would like, and that does hamper my enjoyment of the story.