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My Little Poe
Pinkie Pie was always the crazy one. She just—made me uncomfortable. Her crazy antics, her creepy memory—It was too much!
I didn’t even notice it at first. But, ever since the pie-eating (or not eating) fiasco, I’ve grown wary of her. Her obsession with ponies—her obsession with me!—was more than I could bear.
I said I’d give her pies a second chance. I asked if she could swing by Twilight’s castle and we’d make amends on a particular night. I smiled when she agreed.
Bathed in darkness and clothed in black, I sat on the atrium balcony. I heard the door open; I heard Pinkie bounce in; I heard the door close behind her.
“Dashie? Where are you? You said you’d be here.”
I vaulted over the railing and landed hard on her back. The pie on her head fell onto the ground. My forehooves flew to the back of her head. With the force of a hammer, I sank her face into the pie. Deep, deep into the pie.
What surprised me was how quiet the whole thing was. No screaming. No crying. Hardly a grunt.
After a minute or two, she became motionless. I held her down for thirty more seconds, more firmly, in fact, than I had before.
I gently put a forehoof on her neck and loosely wrapped a wing around her barrel. When I felt no pulse or breath, I bit down on her forehoof and began dragging her. Not ten steps later, the pie pan fell from her face, clattering onto the ground and spinning on its rim. I stomped on it, stopping it from making any more noise.
I don’t think I breathed the entire time I waited, as if my total silence might somehow make up for the noise I’d made. When I finally exhaled, I heard wings flapping above me.
I darted away and clung to the wall. Who? Who was there?
“Who?” a voice repeated, and immediately I knew it was Twilight’s owl.
“Just Twilight’s bird,” I said, as I walked back towards Pinkie.
As I began dragging her again, Owlicious swooped down and landed on her. Then, asked the owl, “Who?”
I turned my head and flattened my ears. I could not answer that owl.
Behind me, wings fluttered, and the owl was in front of me a moment later. Demanded the owl, “Who!”
I scowled and halted where I stood, then spat Pinkie’s hoof out of my mouth. “What do you want, stupid bird!”
Repeated the owl, “Who!” and landed a few steps ahead of me. I barely had to lower my head to meet his eyes.
I spread my wings and took a step forward—which is actually a lot less threatening on a staircase. “Just stay out of my way!”
Relented the owl. “Who.” He took off and flew along behind me as I dragged Pinkie up the stairs.
I dragged her all the way to the top, then dragged her even more. Past Twilight’s room—she was asleep. Past Starlight’s room—she was away. Into the throne room with the big crystal table.
With a grunt and a shove, I upturned the table and rolled it away. My hiding place revealed itself—a hole in the floor beneath the table. There I laid Pinkie Pie, her face still covered with the remains of her pie.
“And nopony will be the wiser,” I said aloud.
From the top of my throne, asked the owl, “Who?”
“Nopony!”
The owl’s gaze dropped. Repeated he, “Who?” I followed his eyes and beheld a cutie mark engraved on the throne.
I stepped forward unawares, as if under a spell. The cutie mark was mine! Yes!—I would know!
“But—nopony else will know,” I said with a nervous chuckle. “You can’t tell them.”
Asked the owl, “Who?”
“Anypony! Nopony can know.” I feared on my life that the bird would tell. One way or another, I feared he would tell. “Not a word, not a gesture, or you’ll end up like her.”
The owl closed his eyes and seemed content. Hooted the owl, “Whooo.”
“Then that’s settled.”
Answered the owl, “Who.”
With a nod and a smirk, I pushed the table back into place.
I didn’t even notice it at first. But, ever since the pie-eating (or not eating) fiasco, I’ve grown wary of her. Her obsession with ponies—her obsession with me!—was more than I could bear.
I said I’d give her pies a second chance. I asked if she could swing by Twilight’s castle and we’d make amends on a particular night. I smiled when she agreed.
Bathed in darkness and clothed in black, I sat on the atrium balcony. I heard the door open; I heard Pinkie bounce in; I heard the door close behind her.
“Dashie? Where are you? You said you’d be here.”
I vaulted over the railing and landed hard on her back. The pie on her head fell onto the ground. My forehooves flew to the back of her head. With the force of a hammer, I sank her face into the pie. Deep, deep into the pie.
What surprised me was how quiet the whole thing was. No screaming. No crying. Hardly a grunt.
After a minute or two, she became motionless. I held her down for thirty more seconds, more firmly, in fact, than I had before.
I gently put a forehoof on her neck and loosely wrapped a wing around her barrel. When I felt no pulse or breath, I bit down on her forehoof and began dragging her. Not ten steps later, the pie pan fell from her face, clattering onto the ground and spinning on its rim. I stomped on it, stopping it from making any more noise.
I don’t think I breathed the entire time I waited, as if my total silence might somehow make up for the noise I’d made. When I finally exhaled, I heard wings flapping above me.
I darted away and clung to the wall. Who? Who was there?
“Who?” a voice repeated, and immediately I knew it was Twilight’s owl.
“Just Twilight’s bird,” I said, as I walked back towards Pinkie.
As I began dragging her again, Owlicious swooped down and landed on her. Then, asked the owl, “Who?”
I turned my head and flattened my ears. I could not answer that owl.
Behind me, wings fluttered, and the owl was in front of me a moment later. Demanded the owl, “Who!”
I scowled and halted where I stood, then spat Pinkie’s hoof out of my mouth. “What do you want, stupid bird!”
Repeated the owl, “Who!” and landed a few steps ahead of me. I barely had to lower my head to meet his eyes.
I spread my wings and took a step forward—which is actually a lot less threatening on a staircase. “Just stay out of my way!”
Relented the owl. “Who.” He took off and flew along behind me as I dragged Pinkie up the stairs.
I dragged her all the way to the top, then dragged her even more. Past Twilight’s room—she was asleep. Past Starlight’s room—she was away. Into the throne room with the big crystal table.
With a grunt and a shove, I upturned the table and rolled it away. My hiding place revealed itself—a hole in the floor beneath the table. There I laid Pinkie Pie, her face still covered with the remains of her pie.
“And nopony will be the wiser,” I said aloud.
From the top of my throne, asked the owl, “Who?”
“Nopony!”
The owl’s gaze dropped. Repeated he, “Who?” I followed his eyes and beheld a cutie mark engraved on the throne.
I stepped forward unawares, as if under a spell. The cutie mark was mine! Yes!—I would know!
“But—nopony else will know,” I said with a nervous chuckle. “You can’t tell them.”
Asked the owl, “Who?”
“Anypony! Nopony can know.” I feared on my life that the bird would tell. One way or another, I feared he would tell. “Not a word, not a gesture, or you’ll end up like her.”
The owl closed his eyes and seemed content. Hooted the owl, “Whooo.”
“Then that’s settled.”
Answered the owl, “Who.”
With a nod and a smirk, I pushed the table back into place.
Making a direct comparison between your work and the work of a well-known author can be a double-edged sword. For those who enjoyed "The Raven" seeing a story that makes literary allusions to it might be a plus. This story doesn't compare favorably to "The Raven." It has none of the manic drive created by Poe's rhythmic narrations, his lyrical libations, to be anything but a story-shaped sedation.
Okay I'm kidding. This was weird and I don't know how to critique it. The story is nonsensical, but it was made to be nonsensical.
I'm sure there's a play on "Poe's Law" that'd also be apt here.
And his name is spelled Owlowiscious!
Okay I'm kidding. This was weird and I don't know how to critique it. The story is nonsensical, but it was made to be nonsensical.
I'm sure there's a play on "Poe's Law" that'd also be apt here.
And his name is spelled Owlowiscious!
Needlessly cruel with out the insight into the human psyche that Poe's works entail.
Disclaimer: This is the opinion of a sick person who is too medicated to think overly clearly on top of not knowing what is objectively good or bad writing.
Disclaimer: This is the opinion of a sick person who is too medicated to think overly clearly on top of not knowing what is objectively good or bad writing.
>>Whitbane
It seems to follow the source in placing the body in the floor, except that Poe had it dismembered.
It seems to follow the source in placing the body in the floor, except that Poe had it dismembered.
Seems to be kind of an amalgam of "The Telltale Heart" and "The Raven." I'm not sure the latter is necessary, as it draws in another character, one who's (heh) a direct witness at that, so it kind of undermines the "Telltale Heart" material. The narrative voice sounds pretty sophisticated for Dash, but you can get some license for trying to make it sound more like Poe. The ending could use some more convincing information on why Owlowiscious is this intimidated. Does he know Dash to be someone who will carry out this threat? Could she do so before he told? Would nobody he told be able to protect him? I'm not even sure why Dash doesn't go ahead and eliminate the witness. The ending also departs from either Poe tale, and not to do something that makes a statement by doing so. I think the parallel holds pretty well until that point, though. The title's a mixed bag; it's a clever play on words, but as someone else has already said, it invites comparisons to a very good writer. Not a bad effort, though.
Despite not being nearly as gory or traumatizing, this reminds me of the infamous "Cupcakes" - where even telling a dark story about murder has this whimsical nature about it. because ponies. (not referring to Cupcakes' plot, but all the random jokes and puns it uses) And that's something I appreciate, rather than trying to straight-up emulate Poe himself, and showing off how you can 100% imitate his style and atmosphere and such because you've studied it so much.... Basically, instead of a Poe fanfic that happens to have ponies in it, I'd rather have a pony fanfic that includes a few broad references to Poe and leaves it at that. I like this fic's approach, and it's what I want more of.
This is... sort of amusing? I read it as a parody of grimdark Halloween stories, and it kinda succeeds at being that (especially given all the grimdark, Halloween-y stories I'm seeing on my slate), but it's also paying tribute to Poe in a weird way that comes across as half-baked to me. It's torn between being pony parody, and Poe parody (ponody vs. Poerody?), and that split focus means that that it doesn't fully succeed at being either.
It still made me smirk, though, so I'd give it eight flaky pie crusts out of a possible ten.
It still made me smirk, though, so I'd give it eight flaky pie crusts out of a possible ten.
Hm, hm, hm, hm.
This is amusing enough, but I think it overstays its welcome. The back end is largely just the same joke repeated, and I don't think there is much to be gained from it not closing out sooner and on a stronger note. That said, it is kind of worth noting that there isn't a particular strong - or even uncomfortable - laugh here. The situation is just odd enough to pull out a dark chuckle, but that's kind of it. To that end, you might want to consider ramping it up a bit in some form or another to really give it a distinct character.
Beyond that, while the quoth the raven allusion is cute, it actually reads pretty awkwardly as presented in the prose (probably in part because I expect the same rhythm as the actual line from the Poe work).
This is amusing enough, but I think it overstays its welcome. The back end is largely just the same joke repeated, and I don't think there is much to be gained from it not closing out sooner and on a stronger note. That said, it is kind of worth noting that there isn't a particular strong - or even uncomfortable - laugh here. The situation is just odd enough to pull out a dark chuckle, but that's kind of it. To that end, you might want to consider ramping it up a bit in some form or another to really give it a distinct character.
Beyond that, while the quoth the raven allusion is cute, it actually reads pretty awkwardly as presented in the prose (probably in part because I expect the same rhythm as the actual line from the Poe work).