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Villainy Ain't a Piece of Cake
When the new player materialized, Mane-iac sensed the age difference instantly. So instead of cackling madly and planning world domination, she rolled a cigarette.
“Rather old for this game, aren’t we?” She smirked.
Under the simulated costume of the Masked Matterhorn, Mr Cake blushed.
Eventually, he said, “Er… it… was… recommended to us. By friends.”
“Us?” said Mane-iac.
Another player materialized, giggling and flapping her new wings. “Oh YES! I’m fresh as a newly-baked pie! Just wait until I find this Mane-iac –”
“Er… s-sweetcakes?” Mr Cake coughed and nodded urgently towards Mane-iac.
The newcomer – Mrs Cake – spun around and blushed even harder than her husband. “Oh my. I’m sorry. Just… trying to get into character. I didn’t know there’d be… other players.”
Mane-iac puffed her cigarette, her headaches melting away. Even a fictional character needed a time-out. Plus, her throat was sore from all the cackling.
“No,” she said. “I’m part of the fantasy.”
“Oh,” said Mrs Cake. “Um, we’re a little unfamiliar with this whole ‘jumping into comics’ thing. Do we wait?”
Mane-iac shrugged.
“Only friends of ours recomm–” began Mrs Cake.
“I heard already.”
“Sorry. I guess we forgot some of the rules?”
“Pardon me my frankness, darling,” said Mane-iac, ever the petty villainess. “But I don’t think your figure’s cut out for Zapp’s costume.”
She took a sick little pleasure, seeing Mrs Cake try to cover her stomach. Faces reddened.
“Been married long?” Mane-iac took another puff.
“Twenty-five years, this April,” said Mr Cake. “Erm?”
“Congratulations!”
“Uh… thanks…”
“Long time to be together. Such commitment is rare these days.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that…”
“You’re Mane-iac, right?” said Mrs Cake, looking flustered. “The bad pony we’re supposed to fight?”
“Yep.” Another lovely puff.
“Do you start, or…?”
“I’m on break.” Mane-iac’s prehensile mane removed the cigarette. “Let me guess: the magic’s starting to fade between you. Twenty-five years: long time to experiment. So you thought you’d see what the young whippersnappers are doing these days.”
“Excuse me,” said Mr Cake indignantly. “I’m not sure you should talk to us like that.”
“Successful business?”
Mrs Cake stiffened. “We run a bakery together. Since our wedding.”
“Jolly good!”
Both Cakes exchanged nervous glances. Oh, they were trying to be stiff with affronted pride, but their movements were too jittery, their faces too red. Probably nice ponies, in real life. Not that Mane-iac knew much about real life.
Mane-iac dropped the cigarette on the Maretropolis sidewalk. “I’ve seen no-hopers trying to escape miserable lives in this game.”
She barked a laugh.
“And the best part is they think it works, yet keep coming back! You’d think medicine wouldn’t be needed eventually. But they’re young. They’ve achieved nothing yet. You’ve a steady income, a strong marriage, a happy family helped by friends…”
Mr Cake bristled. “How could you kn–?”
“You enter my world, you’re under my purview,” said Mane-iac. “We scan you before matching your characters. Please don’t waste time on this nonsense. Go out. Talk to someone. Solve problems. It’d be kinder.”
The Cakes looked at each other. Even scanning them, a flicker of envy passed through Mane-iac. After all, she had to stay here and meet countless strangers. She couldn’t give anyone a look that’d speak a thousand words, draw upon a history, share a future…
“I… think it’s nice…” said Mrs Cake carefully, “to act young. Sometimes.”
“It’s only a bit of harmless fun,” said Mr Cake, straining with cheer.
Mane-iac sensed their emotions. Genuine happiness flowed: totally useless to her. Yet in the depths, desperation flickered. Self-aware desperation now, thanks to her comments.
She licked her lips. “You want to give this young colt’s fantasy a try?”
They winced, especially Mrs Cake. The comment about her costume still stung; Mane-iac sensed embarrassment lurking there.
She tasted it.
Delicious.
“Very well,” she said, sounding peeved while inside she was laughing. “Whyever not?”
After all, two middle-aged ponies trying to act young? A rare find, but their emotions could be useful.
No-hopers, escapists, deluded fools… All food for her. She’d scanned lives so often that she’d taken on a life of her own. Exploring. Manipulating. Feeding. She’d gather millions in a day, through multiple dimensions, as essence of Mane-iac reached through millions of comics.
Fuel.
One day, she’d eat enough. Perhaps the real world would open its pages to her.
While the Cakes prepared for an amateurish battle, Mane-iac – once a mere puppet of a publisher’s enchantment – crept that much closer to delightful escape.
“Rather old for this game, aren’t we?” She smirked.
Under the simulated costume of the Masked Matterhorn, Mr Cake blushed.
Eventually, he said, “Er… it… was… recommended to us. By friends.”
“Us?” said Mane-iac.
Another player materialized, giggling and flapping her new wings. “Oh YES! I’m fresh as a newly-baked pie! Just wait until I find this Mane-iac –”
“Er… s-sweetcakes?” Mr Cake coughed and nodded urgently towards Mane-iac.
The newcomer – Mrs Cake – spun around and blushed even harder than her husband. “Oh my. I’m sorry. Just… trying to get into character. I didn’t know there’d be… other players.”
Mane-iac puffed her cigarette, her headaches melting away. Even a fictional character needed a time-out. Plus, her throat was sore from all the cackling.
“No,” she said. “I’m part of the fantasy.”
“Oh,” said Mrs Cake. “Um, we’re a little unfamiliar with this whole ‘jumping into comics’ thing. Do we wait?”
Mane-iac shrugged.
“Only friends of ours recomm–” began Mrs Cake.
“I heard already.”
“Sorry. I guess we forgot some of the rules?”
“Pardon me my frankness, darling,” said Mane-iac, ever the petty villainess. “But I don’t think your figure’s cut out for Zapp’s costume.”
She took a sick little pleasure, seeing Mrs Cake try to cover her stomach. Faces reddened.
“Been married long?” Mane-iac took another puff.
“Twenty-five years, this April,” said Mr Cake. “Erm?”
“Congratulations!”
“Uh… thanks…”
“Long time to be together. Such commitment is rare these days.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that…”
“You’re Mane-iac, right?” said Mrs Cake, looking flustered. “The bad pony we’re supposed to fight?”
“Yep.” Another lovely puff.
“Do you start, or…?”
“I’m on break.” Mane-iac’s prehensile mane removed the cigarette. “Let me guess: the magic’s starting to fade between you. Twenty-five years: long time to experiment. So you thought you’d see what the young whippersnappers are doing these days.”
“Excuse me,” said Mr Cake indignantly. “I’m not sure you should talk to us like that.”
“Successful business?”
Mrs Cake stiffened. “We run a bakery together. Since our wedding.”
“Jolly good!”
Both Cakes exchanged nervous glances. Oh, they were trying to be stiff with affronted pride, but their movements were too jittery, their faces too red. Probably nice ponies, in real life. Not that Mane-iac knew much about real life.
Mane-iac dropped the cigarette on the Maretropolis sidewalk. “I’ve seen no-hopers trying to escape miserable lives in this game.”
She barked a laugh.
“And the best part is they think it works, yet keep coming back! You’d think medicine wouldn’t be needed eventually. But they’re young. They’ve achieved nothing yet. You’ve a steady income, a strong marriage, a happy family helped by friends…”
Mr Cake bristled. “How could you kn–?”
“You enter my world, you’re under my purview,” said Mane-iac. “We scan you before matching your characters. Please don’t waste time on this nonsense. Go out. Talk to someone. Solve problems. It’d be kinder.”
The Cakes looked at each other. Even scanning them, a flicker of envy passed through Mane-iac. After all, she had to stay here and meet countless strangers. She couldn’t give anyone a look that’d speak a thousand words, draw upon a history, share a future…
“I… think it’s nice…” said Mrs Cake carefully, “to act young. Sometimes.”
“It’s only a bit of harmless fun,” said Mr Cake, straining with cheer.
Mane-iac sensed their emotions. Genuine happiness flowed: totally useless to her. Yet in the depths, desperation flickered. Self-aware desperation now, thanks to her comments.
She licked her lips. “You want to give this young colt’s fantasy a try?”
They winced, especially Mrs Cake. The comment about her costume still stung; Mane-iac sensed embarrassment lurking there.
She tasted it.
Delicious.
“Very well,” she said, sounding peeved while inside she was laughing. “Whyever not?”
After all, two middle-aged ponies trying to act young? A rare find, but their emotions could be useful.
No-hopers, escapists, deluded fools… All food for her. She’d scanned lives so often that she’d taken on a life of her own. Exploring. Manipulating. Feeding. She’d gather millions in a day, through multiple dimensions, as essence of Mane-iac reached through millions of comics.
Fuel.
One day, she’d eat enough. Perhaps the real world would open its pages to her.
While the Cakes prepared for an amateurish battle, Mane-iac – once a mere puppet of a publisher’s enchantment – crept that much closer to delightful escape.
Pics
Genre: Mane-Iac?! Love it!
Thoughts: I'm compromised somewhat on objectivity here because I think the Mane-Iac has great untapped potential in fanfiction. Making her be this ambitious yet world-weary is a fresh take on her. She's got all the charisma I'd hope for, even as she makes it clear that she's so over everything around her.
There's a ton here that I could praise. I think the concept and execution are absolutely on point. Let me cut to the chase though: there's a pretty strong tonal disconnect between the Mane-Iac's exhortations for the Cakes to skip the fantasy and engage with the rough spots of their pretty-good reality, and then the glee with which she decides to consume their emotional fuel. I don't feel like she's fleshed out enough right now to justify having these seemingly contradictory positions both front-and-center in her thinking.
But beyond that? Heck yes. (EDIT: this is the rare story where I felt a bit disappointed that the “fantasy” aspects of it didn’t take a turn toward something erotic at the end. I think part of the tonal inconsistency of the story comes from the Cakes simply engaging in an overglorified VR beat-em-up when everything up to that point can be read as more marital/intimate/relational in nature.
I’m not sure what it says about me that this is where my head goes, but maybe give it a think.)
Tier: Strong
Thoughts: I'm compromised somewhat on objectivity here because I think the Mane-Iac has great untapped potential in fanfiction. Making her be this ambitious yet world-weary is a fresh take on her. She's got all the charisma I'd hope for, even as she makes it clear that she's so over everything around her.
There's a ton here that I could praise. I think the concept and execution are absolutely on point. Let me cut to the chase though: there's a pretty strong tonal disconnect between the Mane-Iac's exhortations for the Cakes to skip the fantasy and engage with the rough spots of their pretty-good reality, and then the glee with which she decides to consume their emotional fuel. I don't feel like she's fleshed out enough right now to justify having these seemingly contradictory positions both front-and-center in her thinking.
But beyond that? Heck yes. (EDIT: this is the rare story where I felt a bit disappointed that the “fantasy” aspects of it didn’t take a turn toward something erotic at the end. I think part of the tonal inconsistency of the story comes from the Cakes simply engaging in an overglorified VR beat-em-up when everything up to that point can be read as more marital/intimate/relational in nature.
I’m not sure what it says about me that this is where my head goes, but maybe give it a think.)
Tier: Strong
Maneiac is mean. Like, really mean. Definitely didn’t expect her hitting below the belt regarding sub-surface relationship issues.
I love it. ^^
I’ll echo most of what >>CoffeeMinion said regarding a tonal dissonance between Maneiac wanting the Cakes to go live their lives and then also feasting on their despair, but I think there’s an easy fix: leave a hint or two that she’s playing the long game from the start. Have her reel them in through her feigned disinterest, then undermine them with needling jabs at their physique and marriage for what she's really after. It wouldn’t take much to tie the whole story up like that with what you already have here, Writer, and what you have so far is already plenty impressive.
I love it. ^^
I’ll echo most of what >>CoffeeMinion said regarding a tonal dissonance between Maneiac wanting the Cakes to go live their lives and then also feasting on their despair, but I think there’s an easy fix: leave a hint or two that she’s playing the long game from the start. Have her reel them in through her feigned disinterest, then undermine them with needling jabs at their physique and marriage for what she's really after. It wouldn’t take much to tie the whole story up like that with what you already have here, Writer, and what you have so far is already plenty impressive.