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Help! My House Thinks It's a Castle!
One day, Derpy’s house said, “I am the keep of the castle! Who goes there? Friend or foe?”
Since the door wouldn’t open, Derpy stood outside and tried to think of a sensible answer. She had no idea how to talk to houses, but politeness was always welcome.
“Are you playing pretend, Mister House?” she said politely.
“No!” said the house. “I am the keep of the castle!”
“Oh, but Mister House,” said Derpy. “You can’t be the keep of any castle. I’m your owner, Miss Derpy Hooves, remember?”
The house harrumphed. “I know Princess Derpy, who I protect, but not Miss Derpy.”
Derpy made herself comfortable on the grass outside. “But a keep,” she said reasonably, “is a big building.”
“I’m big!” said the house. “Bigger than you by far!”
Derpy admitted the house had a point. “And it’s made of strong stone.”
“So am I! The finest stone in Ponyville!”
Again, Derpy admitted it had a point. She knew she’d never been very good at logic.
“Erm… Doesn’t a keep look after a castle?” she said, trying to remember what little she knew about architecture. “If you’re the keep, where is your castle?”
Silence. Derpy suspected it was searching. How, she wondered, could a house search when it had no eyes to see, or ears to hear, or hooves to touch? Houses couldn’t talk either. Yet here it was, talking. So, she reasoned, who was she to judge?
Eventually, the house said, “That castle over there.”
“Twilight’s castle?”
“Yes.”
“Ooh, that gives me an idea!” Derpy rose. “I’ll be right back.”
When Derpy returned, Princess Twilight followed her. After all, who better to discuss logic and castles than her? Perhaps she could help.
“And now it thinks it’s a keep,” Derpy finished.
“I see,” said Twilight. “Luckily, I came prepared. You see, Mister House, a castle and a cottage are very different. A castle needs an inner and outer wall for defence.”
“Ah, but you see,” said the house, “I have a wall around the garden.”
“Does it have watchtowers? A barbican with a drawbridge? A moat?”
This time, the house sounded uncertain. “No, but…”
“A bailey for growing crops? A motte so that attackers struggle uphill?”
“No, but…”
“I have pictures here to show you what a cottage and keep look like. Please compare the two.”
But when it spoke, the house gloated. “I see no pictures! Because keeps don’t have eyes!”
Finally, Twilight growled with frustration. “There’s no reasoning with you.”
A sudden thought struck Derpy. “How do you know you’re a keep?”
“I… can feel it?” tried the house.
“Oh, that’s easy then. Twilight, could you help Mister House by turning him into a keep so he could feel the difference?”
“I’ll try. But what about you?”
“I’ll sleep at a friend’s house tonight. Don’t worry.”
“Um… okay…”
So Twilight worked her magic, and the cottage bloomed into a keep. The space around it scrunched up to stop the neighbouring houses from being crushed.
“I told you I’m a keep!” crowed the house.
Twilight growled. When she went to change it back, however, Derpy stopped her.
“Let’s come back tomorrow,” said Derpy. “We don’t want to hurt his feelings.”
Because the house wouldn’t let her in, Derpy left. Initially, the house laughed because it was big, but soon it felt how empty the rooms were, and since there were lots of rooms, there was a lot of empty. It was made of strong stones, but the stones chilled it. The other buildings had to be kept away for their own good, so it became lonely.
The house shouted, “I hate being a keep! Won’t you come in?”
Hearing it, Derpy returned, but it was so empty and cold and lonely that she went outside again. “I’m sorry. I’d need to be a princess, I think, and I’d be very bad at it.”
“But I’d protect you!” pleaded the house.
“Ponyville’s a peaceful town.”
“We’d be big and powerful.”
“Oh, I’m happy just as I am!”
The house moaned until Derpy fetched Twilight and changed it back. Now it was nice inside; she lit a fire that warmed the interior quickly. Since she knew all the little rooms, she felt cosy.
“I prefer being a cottage,” said the house. “The biggest and the strongest cottage in all of Equestria!”
“How about,” said Derpy, “the warmest and nicest cottage?”
And eventually, the house said, “Oh. Yes. I like that even more! Goodnight, Miss Derpy!”
“Goodnight, Mister House.”
Since the door wouldn’t open, Derpy stood outside and tried to think of a sensible answer. She had no idea how to talk to houses, but politeness was always welcome.
“Are you playing pretend, Mister House?” she said politely.
“No!” said the house. “I am the keep of the castle!”
“Oh, but Mister House,” said Derpy. “You can’t be the keep of any castle. I’m your owner, Miss Derpy Hooves, remember?”
The house harrumphed. “I know Princess Derpy, who I protect, but not Miss Derpy.”
Derpy made herself comfortable on the grass outside. “But a keep,” she said reasonably, “is a big building.”
“I’m big!” said the house. “Bigger than you by far!”
Derpy admitted the house had a point. “And it’s made of strong stone.”
“So am I! The finest stone in Ponyville!”
Again, Derpy admitted it had a point. She knew she’d never been very good at logic.
“Erm… Doesn’t a keep look after a castle?” she said, trying to remember what little she knew about architecture. “If you’re the keep, where is your castle?”
Silence. Derpy suspected it was searching. How, she wondered, could a house search when it had no eyes to see, or ears to hear, or hooves to touch? Houses couldn’t talk either. Yet here it was, talking. So, she reasoned, who was she to judge?
Eventually, the house said, “That castle over there.”
“Twilight’s castle?”
“Yes.”
“Ooh, that gives me an idea!” Derpy rose. “I’ll be right back.”
When Derpy returned, Princess Twilight followed her. After all, who better to discuss logic and castles than her? Perhaps she could help.
“And now it thinks it’s a keep,” Derpy finished.
“I see,” said Twilight. “Luckily, I came prepared. You see, Mister House, a castle and a cottage are very different. A castle needs an inner and outer wall for defence.”
“Ah, but you see,” said the house, “I have a wall around the garden.”
“Does it have watchtowers? A barbican with a drawbridge? A moat?”
This time, the house sounded uncertain. “No, but…”
“A bailey for growing crops? A motte so that attackers struggle uphill?”
“No, but…”
“I have pictures here to show you what a cottage and keep look like. Please compare the two.”
But when it spoke, the house gloated. “I see no pictures! Because keeps don’t have eyes!”
Finally, Twilight growled with frustration. “There’s no reasoning with you.”
A sudden thought struck Derpy. “How do you know you’re a keep?”
“I… can feel it?” tried the house.
“Oh, that’s easy then. Twilight, could you help Mister House by turning him into a keep so he could feel the difference?”
“I’ll try. But what about you?”
“I’ll sleep at a friend’s house tonight. Don’t worry.”
“Um… okay…”
So Twilight worked her magic, and the cottage bloomed into a keep. The space around it scrunched up to stop the neighbouring houses from being crushed.
“I told you I’m a keep!” crowed the house.
Twilight growled. When she went to change it back, however, Derpy stopped her.
“Let’s come back tomorrow,” said Derpy. “We don’t want to hurt his feelings.”
Because the house wouldn’t let her in, Derpy left. Initially, the house laughed because it was big, but soon it felt how empty the rooms were, and since there were lots of rooms, there was a lot of empty. It was made of strong stones, but the stones chilled it. The other buildings had to be kept away for their own good, so it became lonely.
The house shouted, “I hate being a keep! Won’t you come in?”
Hearing it, Derpy returned, but it was so empty and cold and lonely that she went outside again. “I’m sorry. I’d need to be a princess, I think, and I’d be very bad at it.”
“But I’d protect you!” pleaded the house.
“Ponyville’s a peaceful town.”
“We’d be big and powerful.”
“Oh, I’m happy just as I am!”
The house moaned until Derpy fetched Twilight and changed it back. Now it was nice inside; she lit a fire that warmed the interior quickly. Since she knew all the little rooms, she felt cosy.
“I prefer being a cottage,” said the house. “The biggest and the strongest cottage in all of Equestria!”
“How about,” said Derpy, “the warmest and nicest cottage?”
And eventually, the house said, “Oh. Yes. I like that even more! Goodnight, Miss Derpy!”
“Goodnight, Mister House.”
Pics
Sometimes:
There's just no reasoning with architecture...
The only thing I could suggest would be to keep the whole story in Derpy's POV and expand the middle part a bit: she goes to spend the night with a specific friend next door--Carrot Top, isn't it usually?--and all that evening while they're doing the sorts of things ponies do in houses, she can feel the keep watching and getting grouchier and grouchier. Then the next morning, she can go over to pick up her newspaper from in front of the keep, and the rest of the story can continue from there. Very fun!
Mike
There's just no reasoning with architecture...
The only thing I could suggest would be to keep the whole story in Derpy's POV and expand the middle part a bit: she goes to spend the night with a specific friend next door--Carrot Top, isn't it usually?--and all that evening while they're doing the sorts of things ponies do in houses, she can feel the keep watching and getting grouchier and grouchier. Then the next morning, she can go over to pick up her newspaper from in front of the keep, and the rest of the story can continue from there. Very fun!
Mike
This is silly, low-stakes, and it executes on its premise very well. I did find myself asking why Derpy from the get-go didn't just call herself a Princess to make the house let her in. An easy fix for that would be to transplant Derpy's "I would be a bad Princess" line from where it is now to a spot closer to the beginning.
Now, while this isn't quite my favorite story, I do recognize that it does what it sets out to do very well. Good stuff!
Now, while this isn't quite my favorite story, I do recognize that it does what it sets out to do very well. Good stuff!
