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Soft Stitches
The needle was slim, barely noticeable between Spike’s pudgey claws. Over and over he dipped it into the silver fabric.
He tugged his thumb from below. The needle came with it, jerking the fabric from his grasp. Once again the needle had stuck into his thumb. It had come dethreaded, too.
Grumbling, he reached for the threader.
“Oh Spiiike.”
He heard his name come in a singsong voice through the door to his room, then turned his back to it. The needle quivered in his claw.
“Spike?” Again he heard the voice, sweet and concerned. “Are you going to mope in your room all day? I have a gift for you, if you come out.”
Spike set his needle aside on his little sewing table. Five other needles sat there, all with skewed and cockeyed tips. Gingerly he held the delicate fabric in his upturned claws, taking great care to not tear a hole in it, thus requiring him to start again from scratch. The silver sheet made him think of polished snow.
This time there was a knock. “Darling, there’s a bowl of warm rubies out here for you that’s growing cold. I’m going to open the door a smidge and slide it through to you.”
He heard the door click. He took a deep breath, letting his shakes subside and forcing his head not to turn. He heard ceramic scuff the floor and gemstones brightly tinkling. The door didn’t click closed afterward.
“What did you bring me?” he asked, after some silence. Still he didn’t turn around.
“Are you going to come out?”
Spike shook his head.
“Would you like to stay in here and talk?”
After some hesitation, he nodded.
Hoofsteps approached from behind. There weren’t any pony-sized chairs in Spike’s room, so Rarity found a spot on the floor beside him. Though she was on the floor and Spike was in his chair, Rarity’s horn managed to poke several inches above Spike’s head.
He didn’t know what expression she wore. He hoped his gaze couldn’t burn holes, too. From beneath, his claws made ridges and valleys in the soft fabric—or at least he assumed it was soft. It looked like things he’d been told were soft.
“What are you working on, darling?”
Spike shrugged. “S’nuthing.”
Rarity extended her hoof, which also looked soft. “May I have a look?”
Protectively, Spike withdrew his fabric. It wasn’t ready yet.
“Is it for me?” The surprise in her words hung too thick to sound genuine. “It’s a handkerchief, isn’t it? To replace my old one? Oh, Spike, that’s so thoughtful of you.”
Spike sighed, adjusting the silver ridges with his knuckles. “Twilight told you, didn’t she. You don’t have to act surprised.”
“I—” Rarity faltered.
In his mind, Spike tried to picture the expression shifting on her face. Angry? Ashamed? She knew he didn’t like being treated like a child, but he was numb to it by now. Like needles and fabric, those words didn’t reach below his scales.
After another drawn silence, he heard Rarity breathe her own weighty sigh.
“What happened was my fault. I should have asked Saffron what kind of spices were in the curry. You shouldn’t blame yourself, dear.” Trying to sound helpful, she added: “If it’s any consolation, the damage was minimal. What they can’t recover, their insurance will take care of, Saffron assured me.”
Spike scoffed. A warm puff of smoke came from his nostrils, and he nearly raised his claws to cover, but remembered what they held. His heart vaulted over a few beats when he realized what he’d nearly done.
“She wanted to apologize for the spices, too,” said Rarity. “She didn’t know dragons could even have food allergies.”
“Flammable food allergies,” Spike corrected coldly.
Peripherally he saw Rarity shift closer. He saw her hoof reach out to rest upon his back. Through his thickening adolescent scales, he could barely feel the pressure. But, no matter the degree, her touch always felt good.
At last, he looked up at her face. Her eyes were damp. Her expression spoke of kindness, warmth, understanding. Spike’s guess had been way off.
“Here. The present I got you.” She held out what seemed to be a spool of red thread.
“What’s this?” By now, his voice had softened, and he too was holding back tears.
“Fibers drawn from phoenix feathers. Fireproof.” She grinned. “Use them in my handkerchief.”
Spike pinched the spool between his thumb and foreclaw. His face lit up.
“It’s...warm.”
He tugged his thumb from below. The needle came with it, jerking the fabric from his grasp. Once again the needle had stuck into his thumb. It had come dethreaded, too.
Grumbling, he reached for the threader.
“Oh Spiiike.”
He heard his name come in a singsong voice through the door to his room, then turned his back to it. The needle quivered in his claw.
“Spike?” Again he heard the voice, sweet and concerned. “Are you going to mope in your room all day? I have a gift for you, if you come out.”
Spike set his needle aside on his little sewing table. Five other needles sat there, all with skewed and cockeyed tips. Gingerly he held the delicate fabric in his upturned claws, taking great care to not tear a hole in it, thus requiring him to start again from scratch. The silver sheet made him think of polished snow.
This time there was a knock. “Darling, there’s a bowl of warm rubies out here for you that’s growing cold. I’m going to open the door a smidge and slide it through to you.”
He heard the door click. He took a deep breath, letting his shakes subside and forcing his head not to turn. He heard ceramic scuff the floor and gemstones brightly tinkling. The door didn’t click closed afterward.
“What did you bring me?” he asked, after some silence. Still he didn’t turn around.
“Are you going to come out?”
Spike shook his head.
“Would you like to stay in here and talk?”
After some hesitation, he nodded.
Hoofsteps approached from behind. There weren’t any pony-sized chairs in Spike’s room, so Rarity found a spot on the floor beside him. Though she was on the floor and Spike was in his chair, Rarity’s horn managed to poke several inches above Spike’s head.
He didn’t know what expression she wore. He hoped his gaze couldn’t burn holes, too. From beneath, his claws made ridges and valleys in the soft fabric—or at least he assumed it was soft. It looked like things he’d been told were soft.
“What are you working on, darling?”
Spike shrugged. “S’nuthing.”
Rarity extended her hoof, which also looked soft. “May I have a look?”
Protectively, Spike withdrew his fabric. It wasn’t ready yet.
“Is it for me?” The surprise in her words hung too thick to sound genuine. “It’s a handkerchief, isn’t it? To replace my old one? Oh, Spike, that’s so thoughtful of you.”
Spike sighed, adjusting the silver ridges with his knuckles. “Twilight told you, didn’t she. You don’t have to act surprised.”
“I—” Rarity faltered.
In his mind, Spike tried to picture the expression shifting on her face. Angry? Ashamed? She knew he didn’t like being treated like a child, but he was numb to it by now. Like needles and fabric, those words didn’t reach below his scales.
After another drawn silence, he heard Rarity breathe her own weighty sigh.
“What happened was my fault. I should have asked Saffron what kind of spices were in the curry. You shouldn’t blame yourself, dear.” Trying to sound helpful, she added: “If it’s any consolation, the damage was minimal. What they can’t recover, their insurance will take care of, Saffron assured me.”
Spike scoffed. A warm puff of smoke came from his nostrils, and he nearly raised his claws to cover, but remembered what they held. His heart vaulted over a few beats when he realized what he’d nearly done.
“She wanted to apologize for the spices, too,” said Rarity. “She didn’t know dragons could even have food allergies.”
“Flammable food allergies,” Spike corrected coldly.
Peripherally he saw Rarity shift closer. He saw her hoof reach out to rest upon his back. Through his thickening adolescent scales, he could barely feel the pressure. But, no matter the degree, her touch always felt good.
At last, he looked up at her face. Her eyes were damp. Her expression spoke of kindness, warmth, understanding. Spike’s guess had been way off.
“Here. The present I got you.” She held out what seemed to be a spool of red thread.
“What’s this?” By now, his voice had softened, and he too was holding back tears.
“Fibers drawn from phoenix feathers. Fireproof.” She grinned. “Use them in my handkerchief.”
Spike pinched the spool between his thumb and foreclaw. His face lit up.
“It’s...warm.”
Pics
I like this a lot. I think the title would be better if it reflected on the physical wall preventing Spike from feeling things. That's really the centerpiece of what you're writing about, and I'd like to see the writing focus more heavily on that separation and what it feels like to Spike. Especially if you add something to contrast how thick that physical barrier is, but how thin the emotional barrier is. Show us how alien it is to be Spike, and yet how familiar it is.
>>Trick_Question hit the nail on the head when it comes to how to refine the themes of this one. Even without that focus, this is a fantastic little World of Cardboard story for Spike. To paraphrase Smaug, his scales are as shields, his teeth swords, his claws spears, and his breath death. Not at all helpful when all he needs is a needle. Very nice work.
I didn't get that Spike couldn't feel the needle until I read the comments. I had to read it a second time to realize that the story even had the theme that the other commenters were talking about.
All I got from this story is that Spike is being unnecessarily angsty because he is apparently a teenager now? I'm a few episodes behind on Season 8 and I have to wonder if this story is about an episode I missed or if I just completely missed what this story is trying to say.
All I got from this story is that Spike is being unnecessarily angsty because he is apparently a teenager now? I'm a few episodes behind on Season 8 and I have to wonder if this story is about an episode I missed or if I just completely missed what this story is trying to say.
I didn't think it was possible to have the central theme be both obvious and muddled, but here I am.
The metaphor with the needle worked pretty well, at least once I got over the instant realization that it was meant to be a metaphor. It's one of those times where you're reading something and think, "Huh, this is clearly supposed to represent something." And it was certainly one of those moments, but I think the author used it well.
The problem is that Spike's internal conflict, the reason why he was so standoffish with Rarity, didn't come across as clear to me upon first reading. At first I thought it was meant to be like a romantic tension thing between them, but then it seemed like it was more about Spike's own place in life and how alien he felt as a dragon.
I think, actually, that a good way to get around this lack of clarity would be to have the story told from Spike's POV, which would put us more in his shoes and at the same time give us a more vivid impression of his angst.
I don't want to call it angst, because the word implies a lack of importance, but it's really Spike's angst, and, as >>FanOfMostEverything said, this is a good World of Cardboard-type story that has the potential to be better.
I'm feeling a strong 7 to a light 8 on this.
The metaphor with the needle worked pretty well, at least once I got over the instant realization that it was meant to be a metaphor. It's one of those times where you're reading something and think, "Huh, this is clearly supposed to represent something." And it was certainly one of those moments, but I think the author used it well.
The problem is that Spike's internal conflict, the reason why he was so standoffish with Rarity, didn't come across as clear to me upon first reading. At first I thought it was meant to be like a romantic tension thing between them, but then it seemed like it was more about Spike's own place in life and how alien he felt as a dragon.
I think, actually, that a good way to get around this lack of clarity would be to have the story told from Spike's POV, which would put us more in his shoes and at the same time give us a more vivid impression of his angst.
I don't want to call it angst, because the word implies a lack of importance, but it's really Spike's angst, and, as >>FanOfMostEverything said, this is a good World of Cardboard-type story that has the potential to be better.
I'm feeling a strong 7 to a light 8 on this.
I liked that Spike's mood was explored primarily through his lack of physical sensation, rather than both being explicitly discussed. There's a very male-expectations-of-reserve poignancy that the emphasis on not feeling gives the whole story, and I would hate to lose that by trying to bring out more of the internal conflict (or rather, to bring it out directly, rather than holding to the metaphor of his sense of touch). A very solid entry.
Somehow I completely missed the point that Spike has trouble physically feeling things on my first read-through. I admit that I can be a pretty dumb reader, but I just wanted to report that as another data point for you to consider.
When I actually understood what was going on, I found this to be a very creative take on Spike being different from ponies. Nice work with character selection!
One thing that I would like to point out, though, is that the handful of paragraphs in the middle that deal with the "backstory" felt weaker than the rest to me. The "flammable food allergies" thing feels too comedic, in that I can easily see it as a gag on the show. This doesn't mesh well with the more thoughtful tone that the rest of the story follows. I'd suggest maybe exploring a more understated reason for why Spike is making Rarity a new handkerchief. I personally think that making the backstory so much of a big deal hurts the focus on what Spike is going through right now.
When I actually understood what was going on, I found this to be a very creative take on Spike being different from ponies. Nice work with character selection!
One thing that I would like to point out, though, is that the handful of paragraphs in the middle that deal with the "backstory" felt weaker than the rest to me. The "flammable food allergies" thing feels too comedic, in that I can easily see it as a gag on the show. This doesn't mesh well with the more thoughtful tone that the rest of the story follows. I'd suggest maybe exploring a more understated reason for why Spike is making Rarity a new handkerchief. I personally think that making the backstory so much of a big deal hurts the focus on what Spike is going through right now.
Genre: Sparity
Thoughts: Put me in the camp that "got it" and found this poignant. I thought the Tasty Treat reference was a lot more fun and silly than the overall mood here, but it's a useful anchor back to canon-happy-pony-land when we're spending so much time inside Spike's not-happy, not-pony head.
I feel like this could be clearer, though; hence some of the other comments. I also thought it slightly funky that Rarity tells him to use her gift in his gift. Or maybe the moment is just a bit rushed and doesn't come across with all of the emotion that it seems to be pointing at.
Still really good overall. This might be my favorite story from this round so far.
Tier: Strong
Thoughts: Put me in the camp that "got it" and found this poignant. I thought the Tasty Treat reference was a lot more fun and silly than the overall mood here, but it's a useful anchor back to canon-happy-pony-land when we're spending so much time inside Spike's not-happy, not-pony head.
I feel like this could be clearer, though; hence some of the other comments. I also thought it slightly funky that Rarity tells him to use her gift in his gift. Or maybe the moment is just a bit rushed and doesn't come across with all of the emotion that it seems to be pointing at.
Still really good overall. This might be my favorite story from this round so far.
Tier: Strong
World of flammable cardboard speech for the win. It’s a new concept for me, not being able to feel through the scales. More focus on that would be good just because it’s not a done to death concept.
This starts off with an intriguing image: Spike sewing. It doesn't sound like much, but it's one of those unusual combinations that piques the reader's interest (what's his connection here to Rarity's hobby? Why is he sewing, and what is he sewing?). Also, very apt foreshadowing where he gets the needle stuck in his thumb but barely reacts to it, tipping us off early that he's got a different outlook on this kind of thing (it's also a good callback to Green Isn't Your Color). So well done for a subtle and non-bombastic opening that nevertheless gets the reader's attention. It sets the mood nicely for the quiet drama we receive later.
The following section flows well, but we really need to know who's talking to him sooner. I thought it was Twilight until we got to that "darling", and helping a reader put voice to name as soon as possible is a priority, because if we find out later then our imaginations have to do some retroactive editing. Which is a pain. Just thought I'd point it out, since I got burned for a similar gaff in one of my own entries before.
That said, the build up and mystery is very carefully conveyed as Rarity slowly breaks through Spike's (metaphorical) shield. More subtle exemplification: the "at least he assumed it was soft" passage brings us closer to the realization without spelling it out. Lastly, the characters tread very tentatively around each other in a way that seemed believable and well-considered: Rarity being slightly patronizing, Spike not wanting to open up (like a child) but making it very clear he knows what she's up to. Very well done.
I also like the ending. Of course Rarity would be as thoughtful and generous as that. Such a lovely friendship moment. Perfect. Almost, dare I say it, exquisite.
Unfortunately, the actual inciting incident feels waaaaaaay off
It pains me to say this, because the rest of the fic is so wonderfully crafted, and if I squint I can see how you made the connection between Spike's hatred of his own insensitivity and the guilt he feels for causing a fire. But when it turned out this was all because he had a curry that kicked him off flaming everything... sorry mate, it took me right out. It's just too long-windedly tangential and silly. There had to be a more straightforward way than bringing in a curry restaurant and an allergy that sounds like it would lead to a comedic moment in the show (a la Spike flaming the pediatrician in Secret of My Excess).
See, the tone of the fic is serious and heavy with hidden shames and sensitive feelings. I mean, I was expecting something to match the seriousness and the theme of unintentional insensitivity, like Spike's inability to feel pain had led him to misjudge something and accidentally hurt someone in a realistic (or near-realistic) scenario.
For instance, because he can't feel needles penetrating his hide, he might, in a moment of carelessness, have left sharp objects out in the open for anyone to hurt themselves on. Or his comfort in a roasting environment leads him to invite someone else to join him, which makes them extremely sick and collapse. For added cruelty, have him intend the experience to be a bonding moment, highlighting how he can't fully cross the barrier between dragon and pony experience.
The point is that his shame at his own insensitivity led me to suspect that the incident was where he made some kind of judgement call that was badly informed, or that he made a choice; something innocent enough that nevertheless would give him good reason to feel he should blame himself. And that sounded credible.
Those are just examples; I'm not asking he almost kill people. But this is what started it all? "Curry allergy" is not a phrase I can say with a straight face in context. It seems weaker for him to have this much subtle worry and self-blame over it too, since it's not like he did anything he could plausibly have had control over. This allergic reaction came out of nowhere. It's not a deal-breaker for me, however much I go on about it, but the choice of scenario weakens what could otherwise have been a stellar entry.
(Stepping sideways for a mo, why is there a load of space at the end? Looks like a formatting error to me, guv.)
I'll be kind and say it's a solid entry, because the skill shown elsewhere should receive its dues. But maaan the fic this could have been.
The following section flows well, but we really need to know who's talking to him sooner. I thought it was Twilight until we got to that "darling", and helping a reader put voice to name as soon as possible is a priority, because if we find out later then our imaginations have to do some retroactive editing. Which is a pain. Just thought I'd point it out, since I got burned for a similar gaff in one of my own entries before.
That said, the build up and mystery is very carefully conveyed as Rarity slowly breaks through Spike's (metaphorical) shield. More subtle exemplification: the "at least he assumed it was soft" passage brings us closer to the realization without spelling it out. Lastly, the characters tread very tentatively around each other in a way that seemed believable and well-considered: Rarity being slightly patronizing, Spike not wanting to open up (like a child) but making it very clear he knows what she's up to. Very well done.
I also like the ending. Of course Rarity would be as thoughtful and generous as that. Such a lovely friendship moment. Perfect. Almost, dare I say it, exquisite.
Unfortunately, the actual inciting incident feels waaaaaaay off
It pains me to say this, because the rest of the fic is so wonderfully crafted, and if I squint I can see how you made the connection between Spike's hatred of his own insensitivity and the guilt he feels for causing a fire. But when it turned out this was all because he had a curry that kicked him off flaming everything... sorry mate, it took me right out. It's just too long-windedly tangential and silly. There had to be a more straightforward way than bringing in a curry restaurant and an allergy that sounds like it would lead to a comedic moment in the show (a la Spike flaming the pediatrician in Secret of My Excess).
See, the tone of the fic is serious and heavy with hidden shames and sensitive feelings. I mean, I was expecting something to match the seriousness and the theme of unintentional insensitivity, like Spike's inability to feel pain had led him to misjudge something and accidentally hurt someone in a realistic (or near-realistic) scenario.
For instance, because he can't feel needles penetrating his hide, he might, in a moment of carelessness, have left sharp objects out in the open for anyone to hurt themselves on. Or his comfort in a roasting environment leads him to invite someone else to join him, which makes them extremely sick and collapse. For added cruelty, have him intend the experience to be a bonding moment, highlighting how he can't fully cross the barrier between dragon and pony experience.
The point is that his shame at his own insensitivity led me to suspect that the incident was where he made some kind of judgement call that was badly informed, or that he made a choice; something innocent enough that nevertheless would give him good reason to feel he should blame himself. And that sounded credible.
Those are just examples; I'm not asking he almost kill people. But this is what started it all? "Curry allergy" is not a phrase I can say with a straight face in context. It seems weaker for him to have this much subtle worry and self-blame over it too, since it's not like he did anything he could plausibly have had control over. This allergic reaction came out of nowhere. It's not a deal-breaker for me, however much I go on about it, but the choice of scenario weakens what could otherwise have been a stellar entry.
(Stepping sideways for a mo, why is there a load of space at the end? Looks like a formatting error to me, guv.)
I'll be kind and say it's a solid entry, because the skill shown elsewhere should receive its dues. But maaan the fic this could have been.
Something outside the story that is canon to the cartoon now. Phoenix feathers can cause deafness, and both of them have been exposed here. (snerk)
"Thank you, Rairity! It's very nice!"
"Oh, it's too hot and I should get you some ice? I'll be right back."
"How am I supposed to scratch your back if you leave?"
"You want me to get a sieve too, Spike?"
"Thank you, Rairity! It's very nice!"
"Oh, it's too hot and I should get you some ice? I'll be right back."
"How am I supposed to scratch your back if you leave?"
"You want me to get a sieve too, Spike?"
>>Trick_Question
>>FanOfMostEverything
>>Hap
>>No_Raisin
>>Chris
>>Bachiavellian
>>CoffeeMinion
>>Moosetasm
>>BlueChameleonVI
Thank you all so much for your wonderful, supportive feedback! Generally people seemed to enjoy this little window into Spike's life, and for those who I left a little more confused, I understand your confusion. Originally I'd intended to build the story around Spike feeling ashamed for something over which he had no control, but from the very first sentence the story wanted to become something different.
This is a case where the story knew better what it wanted to be than I did, if that makes any sense. Thankfully my bumbling hands didn't outright destroy it, and I think I can easily sympathize with Spike's anxiety over the possibility of mishandling my creations.
Anyway, with the help of all your fantastic comments, I'm going to focus the themes of this story and hopefully publish it to fimfic sometime in the coming week.
And, of course, congratulations to this round's winners! This was a fantastic write-off and I hope to see y'all in the next one!
>>georg
Guess I better catch up on show lore, huh? Thanks for the tip!
>>FanOfMostEverything
>>Hap
>>No_Raisin
>>Chris
>>Bachiavellian
>>CoffeeMinion
>>Moosetasm
>>BlueChameleonVI
Thank you all so much for your wonderful, supportive feedback! Generally people seemed to enjoy this little window into Spike's life, and for those who I left a little more confused, I understand your confusion. Originally I'd intended to build the story around Spike feeling ashamed for something over which he had no control, but from the very first sentence the story wanted to become something different.
This is a case where the story knew better what it wanted to be than I did, if that makes any sense. Thankfully my bumbling hands didn't outright destroy it, and I think I can easily sympathize with Spike's anxiety over the possibility of mishandling my creations.
Anyway, with the help of all your fantastic comments, I'm going to focus the themes of this story and hopefully publish it to fimfic sometime in the coming week.
And, of course, congratulations to this round's winners! This was a fantastic write-off and I hope to see y'all in the next one!
>>georg
Guess I better catch up on show lore, huh? Thanks for the tip!