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Crepuscula
Young Twilight liked pretending. With her magical surges, though, “pretend” was a relative term.
None of the other fillies wanted to play with her. Instead, they hid in doorways, toilets, classrooms: the playground was Twilight’s alone.
Because when she played doctor, fillies were struck down with everything from Pony Pox to the Trots. When she played cops-and-robbers, the groundskeeper discovered a dungeon and crying foals trapped in chains.
When she played Tag, no one wanted to be “It”. Foals would rather hide for hours than let Twilight make them “It”.
“Sorry! Sorry!” said Twilight, to her classmates and tutors and headmasters and, when they were summoned, parents. She went from one establishment to another; however well she started off, sooner or later there’d be the first scream.
This was in Magic Kindergarten.
One bedtime, Twilight Velvet listened at the door, waiting for sobs to die away. Her daughter was best not disturbed while emotional.
Carefully she knocked, then entered slowly so not to startle Twilight.
“I brought Smarty-Pants.” Velvet tucked the doll in next to Twilight. “You haven’t tidied your room?”
Twilight’s face was blank. “Tidying rooms is boring.”
“We have to take care of our home.”
“Home is boring.”
“Is everything all right?”
Twilight squeezed Smarty-Pants. “Got my friend. Don’t need anyone else. Don’t need anyone else…”
Velvet bit her lip; she recognized the signs. “You know who’d make an amazing friend?”
“Who?”
“Princess Celestia.”
Little ears rose at once.
“Oh yes,” said Velvet happily. “She’s very powerful, and very special. Just like you. And she goes on adventures and meets all kinds of weird, wonderful friends.”
“I’m like Princess Celestia?”
“Oh yes. You like going out the house, exploring places. Scares me silly sometimes, but still. And I bet you could have lots of friends someday.”
Very, very little now, the voice said, “I could have friends?”
“As many as you wanted.”
“Really?”
“Really. You’re my little hero-to-be.” Velvet kissed her; Twilight’s eyes were already drooping, a slit shining with dreams.
On her way out, Velvet heard: “Thank you, Mommy.”
Her smile trembled under the first dribble of tears.
The incident occurred the next day.
Velvet hummed one of her old mother’s favourite tunes while carrying groceries back home. When she returned, her husband spoke fast, gestured wildly, pointed upstairs. Velvet listened. Her smile died. Her groceries hit the floor.
She was lightning up those stairs. Already she heard the happy voice before she burst into Twilight’s room.
Twilight smiled and waved from a table. She was back from Magic Kindergarten for lunch, an unusual circumstance in itself. Having a tea party.
Five of her classmates.
Dribbling.
Eyes glowing green.
Legs moving like puppets.
Twilight’s horn. Aglow. Casting magic.
She had all kinds of weird and wonderful friends now. As many as she wanted.
The living room.
At one end: Twilight, hiding behind a book. At the other: Velvet, watching her daughter.
“They weren’t weird and wonderful,” said Twilight coldly. “I don’t need un-special friends. I can look after myself. Like Princess Celestia.”
“That’s enough,” said Velvet. She was shaking.
Velvet should have been overwhelmed with motherly concern. But she felt cold fear. What was this creature, taking her daughter’s place? Some enfant terrible who turned ponies into zombies?
Should something like that ever be allowed…?
Then she shook herself down. No! Somewhere in there was her Twilight. She moved forwards…
Glowing eyes glared up. “I’m reading!”
Coldness seized Velvet, froze her mid-step. Sheer terror escaped her motherly self-control. Her face contorted. She screamed.
Glowing eyes dimmed. Twilight’s own quivered.
Then came her long, low whine, the beginnings of a shocked sob.
Velvet leaped, seizing Twilight tightly. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” she said, to herself and to her crying daughter. “Nothing happened.”
“I’M SORRY!” The voice was muffled by Velvet’s chest. “I didn’t MEAN to!”
“I know you didn’t.”
“I don’t WANT to be special! I HATE it!”
“You haven’t learned how to control it yet. These things take time. You like tidying your room? A nice, everyday thing?”
“I… like… being tidy…”
“Yes. Lots of ponies do. You can make friends for very boring, everyday things.” Gently, she tilted the tear-stained face up and smiled. “One of the most boring, everyday things is that everyone deep down, no matter how special, is still a pony. Okay?”
Eventually… “Okay.”
Velvet delayed releasing her daughter for as long as she could. Inevitably, though, she had to. When she did, she saw Twilight. Behind a book. Alone.
None of the other fillies wanted to play with her. Instead, they hid in doorways, toilets, classrooms: the playground was Twilight’s alone.
Because when she played doctor, fillies were struck down with everything from Pony Pox to the Trots. When she played cops-and-robbers, the groundskeeper discovered a dungeon and crying foals trapped in chains.
When she played Tag, no one wanted to be “It”. Foals would rather hide for hours than let Twilight make them “It”.
“Sorry! Sorry!” said Twilight, to her classmates and tutors and headmasters and, when they were summoned, parents. She went from one establishment to another; however well she started off, sooner or later there’d be the first scream.
This was in Magic Kindergarten.
One bedtime, Twilight Velvet listened at the door, waiting for sobs to die away. Her daughter was best not disturbed while emotional.
Carefully she knocked, then entered slowly so not to startle Twilight.
“I brought Smarty-Pants.” Velvet tucked the doll in next to Twilight. “You haven’t tidied your room?”
Twilight’s face was blank. “Tidying rooms is boring.”
“We have to take care of our home.”
“Home is boring.”
“Is everything all right?”
Twilight squeezed Smarty-Pants. “Got my friend. Don’t need anyone else. Don’t need anyone else…”
Velvet bit her lip; she recognized the signs. “You know who’d make an amazing friend?”
“Who?”
“Princess Celestia.”
Little ears rose at once.
“Oh yes,” said Velvet happily. “She’s very powerful, and very special. Just like you. And she goes on adventures and meets all kinds of weird, wonderful friends.”
“I’m like Princess Celestia?”
“Oh yes. You like going out the house, exploring places. Scares me silly sometimes, but still. And I bet you could have lots of friends someday.”
Very, very little now, the voice said, “I could have friends?”
“As many as you wanted.”
“Really?”
“Really. You’re my little hero-to-be.” Velvet kissed her; Twilight’s eyes were already drooping, a slit shining with dreams.
On her way out, Velvet heard: “Thank you, Mommy.”
Her smile trembled under the first dribble of tears.
The incident occurred the next day.
Velvet hummed one of her old mother’s favourite tunes while carrying groceries back home. When she returned, her husband spoke fast, gestured wildly, pointed upstairs. Velvet listened. Her smile died. Her groceries hit the floor.
She was lightning up those stairs. Already she heard the happy voice before she burst into Twilight’s room.
Twilight smiled and waved from a table. She was back from Magic Kindergarten for lunch, an unusual circumstance in itself. Having a tea party.
Five of her classmates.
Dribbling.
Eyes glowing green.
Legs moving like puppets.
Twilight’s horn. Aglow. Casting magic.
She had all kinds of weird and wonderful friends now. As many as she wanted.
The living room.
At one end: Twilight, hiding behind a book. At the other: Velvet, watching her daughter.
“They weren’t weird and wonderful,” said Twilight coldly. “I don’t need un-special friends. I can look after myself. Like Princess Celestia.”
“That’s enough,” said Velvet. She was shaking.
Velvet should have been overwhelmed with motherly concern. But she felt cold fear. What was this creature, taking her daughter’s place? Some enfant terrible who turned ponies into zombies?
Should something like that ever be allowed…?
Then she shook herself down. No! Somewhere in there was her Twilight. She moved forwards…
Glowing eyes glared up. “I’m reading!”
Coldness seized Velvet, froze her mid-step. Sheer terror escaped her motherly self-control. Her face contorted. She screamed.
Glowing eyes dimmed. Twilight’s own quivered.
Then came her long, low whine, the beginnings of a shocked sob.
Velvet leaped, seizing Twilight tightly. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” she said, to herself and to her crying daughter. “Nothing happened.”
“I’M SORRY!” The voice was muffled by Velvet’s chest. “I didn’t MEAN to!”
“I know you didn’t.”
“I don’t WANT to be special! I HATE it!”
“You haven’t learned how to control it yet. These things take time. You like tidying your room? A nice, everyday thing?”
“I… like… being tidy…”
“Yes. Lots of ponies do. You can make friends for very boring, everyday things.” Gently, she tilted the tear-stained face up and smiled. “One of the most boring, everyday things is that everyone deep down, no matter how special, is still a pony. Okay?”
Eventually… “Okay.”
Velvet delayed releasing her daughter for as long as she could. Inevitably, though, she had to. When she did, she saw Twilight. Behind a book. Alone.
Pics
Genre: Enfant Terrible
Thoughts: This felt like a really heartfelt and true-to-life portrayal of a mother who’s out of her depth with a child whose powers exceed guidance, control... anything. And yet, ultimately that’s kind of what kids are like anyway; you can’t really control them, and you probably wouldn’t want to anyway, at least if you’re being honest. There’s a sense in which you want to try to guide them, but there’s a sense in which they kinda have to make their own decisions. Velvet is clearly trying to nudge Filly Twi down the right path, but this 100% sells a scenario where mere survival is success. I cringe and ache to put myself in Velvet’s horseshoes and to imagine something like this. It’s rendered in chilling, heart-rending tones.
So, y’know, props for all that. ^^ I don’t have much to suggest otherwise.
Tier: Top Contender
Thoughts: This felt like a really heartfelt and true-to-life portrayal of a mother who’s out of her depth with a child whose powers exceed guidance, control... anything. And yet, ultimately that’s kind of what kids are like anyway; you can’t really control them, and you probably wouldn’t want to anyway, at least if you’re being honest. There’s a sense in which you want to try to guide them, but there’s a sense in which they kinda have to make their own decisions. Velvet is clearly trying to nudge Filly Twi down the right path, but this 100% sells a scenario where mere survival is success. I cringe and ache to put myself in Velvet’s horseshoes and to imagine something like this. It’s rendered in chilling, heart-rending tones.
So, y’know, props for all that. ^^ I don’t have much to suggest otherwise.
Tier: Top Contender
Contrary to CM there, I didn't like this one quite so much. It felt a bit overdone and squashed to me, and I had trouble keeping track of what was happening. I cannot deny the quality of the writing, and you certainly have a good idea and a great start, but it just needs a bit more revision to work for me.
Did you mean for the title to send shades of "Dracula" the reader's way? Because it does.
I have no suggestions.
I have no suggestions.
>>Trick_Question
Ohmigarsh, it does. Lemme check something...
...yep...
...this was already at the top of my slate, so I'm good.
Carry on. :-p
Ohmigarsh, it does. Lemme check something...
...yep...
...this was already at the top of my slate, so I'm good.
Carry on. :-p
I won't spend much time on a story which already has six reviews — but while this will probably drop as I go, it's at the top of my slate so far. Add a "me too" both to the general props, and to >>MLPmatthewl419's assertion that it feels a little bit squished. I'd work mostly on flow and transition; it seems like it takes a number of sudden leaps, probably an artifact of hacking this apart to fit into the wordcount limit. Regardless, it's vivid and pretty creepy.
Tier: Strong
Tier: Strong