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Dismaid
White founts were falling in the courts of the Sun outside, seen through the ornate doors that overlooked the balcony and sculpted balustrade. Inside, magelights illuminated the manor reception room, bringing out the rich luster of polished mahogany bookshelves, tables and chairs, the intricate designs on carpets of soft wool woven by the Merino family of Esponia, and the Blueblood coat of arms above the marble fireplace.
At the center of the understated splendor sat two figures. One, the Majordomo, was a gaunt old stallion who looked as though he hadn’t been a horse in previous lifetimes and had only just avoided it in this one. He was dressed austerely in black, and silver locks ran down his back as his glacial blue eyes gazed down over the desk at the Applicant.
She was a small pony mare with large adorable eyes, a chartreuse coat of delicate shade, and an utterly iconic maid’s uniform, and she looked as if she was ready to bolt from the starting gate off to the far hills.
The Majordomo glanced at his papers. “You have recommendations from suitably high sources to command respect, but a lack of corresponding work experience. Might you care to explain this?”
The Maid drew breath to reply, but nothing came out. Her eyes simply grew wider.
The Majordomo raised one eyebrow. “Well…?”
The Maid shuddered under his gaze, then stared at the floor. “Well, I’m not really a maid, or a pony.” she said. “I’m an alien from another world.”
The Majordomo raised his other eyebrow but said nothing.
“I was at an anime con,” she continued, “and met a guy with funny eyebrows and a crooked grin, and he sold me a maid’s cap. I thought it would look funny with my Venom outfit, you know? Well, I put it on, and Bamf! I was transported here, as a pony mare, in a maid’s costume. I can’t get rid of it; I can take it off long enough to wash it or have a bath, but it just reappears on my body.
“I’ve seen various magicians, unicorns, to try to undo the spell and send me home, but no luck. One had me clean her entire library before admitting she couldn’t help me but that I looked so cute… She was the one who recommended me to you, and helped me to write up the paperwork. So here I am.”
A frigid moment of silence crashed down between them.
The Majordomo cleared his throat. “And you thought somehow, that when seeking a position with this noble house, on which so much trust resides, you would have the slightest chance of a job after spouting out such a ridiculous story to somepony you’d only just met…?”
The Maid winced. “I have these sudden bouts of self-damaging honesty. Works better than whips and bondage, frankly. I apologize for wasting your time, and I’ll show myself to the door.” She rose to her feet and began to back away.
“No, no, don’t leave,” he said. “You’re hired.”
She sat down again rather heavily on her round rump, sending a ripple through the plush wool carpet. “H-hired? Huh?”
The Majordomo smiled sadly. “Woodstock, 1969. I was standing there in my bell bottoms and Hendrix tie dye, when a fellow with—you said funny eyebrows? crooked grin?—sold me a tab of acid. I asked if it was real dope, and he said it would send me out of this world. It did, alright, it sent me here.
“The prior Majordomo, may his soul rest well, the one who saw through my pony false-front and hired me; he’d been at a party in Bangladesh in 1922 when a similar fellow slipped him the mickey. This isn’t a new problem. But it has become a tradition for the staff serving the nobles of this manor to welcome such refugees and give them a place to stay, and to start a new life of sorts. I still hope for some sort of solution to be found, though frankly at my age there is not much reason for me to go back…”
“That’s a little better than I’d expected,” said the Maid. “I hope I can learn enough about cleaning to justify your keeping me on.”
“Oh, you’ll only be doing a token amount of cleaning. Please come with me.” The Majordomo led the Maid down a long corridor, then took a turn down a dark staircase that led to a small wine cellar. He pulled a bottle out of a rack, reached down the hole and did something, whereupon a nearby door unlocked.
They descended further down long staircases, emerging in a well lit room, bright like fluorescent lighting. Many ponies were at work at benches, applying magic to gadgets and boxes of unknown contents. In the corner, the Maid saw what greatly resembled a classic motorcycle, and detailed models of aircraft hung from girders overhead.
“You’re reproducing Earth technology!” she said with delight. Several working ponies glanced at her, and winked.
“Correct!” smiled the Majordomo. “You might have wondered why Equestria has such archaic technology intermixed with modern and homey inventions such as radios and hydroelectric dams. With all the ex-human immigrants, we’ve formed a secret research lab, with discreet royal support, to translate Earth’s inventions into forms usable here. We have made devices, such as one called a ‘roomba’ with which you are no doubt familiar, that will handle most of the cleaning work in the house above. You may spend your remaining time assisting here. Have you any technical skills?”
“I’ve assembled some PCs—personal computers,” she said with growing hope, “And I’ve put together some kits with a soldering iron.”
“Splendid. You can don coveralls if you like, and we’ll get you started.”
The Maid noticed that several ponies present were also wearing inappropriate costumes, which the coveralls did not entirely conceal. “Just one more question. Can you tell me more about the current lord of this house? I’ve heard some rumors.”
“You can safely discredit most of them. He’s actually a very nice fellow in private—”
A pneumatic tube in the ceiling hissed, and a black and white streak dropped through it, landing with splayed hooves on the tile floor with a ringing clank. Prince Blueblood shook his immaculate gold mane, but his dinner tux was singed and smoking with an occasional arrowhead protruding from it.
“Hello again, lassies and lads! Just back from a little trouble at the Griffonstone border. I think this suit has passed its trial run, but needs a bit of freshening.”
Skilled techs surrounded him, expertly unhooked the old tux which rang in spots like a suit of armor, and clad him in a fresh version. The Maid found herself staring at his trim shoulders and strong muscular flanks.
Blueblood checked the fit and the secret pockets. “Capital! Anything new for me? I have to dash; Auntie wants me to apply some ‘creative diplomacy’ in Gemsbokia.”
The Majordomo smiled. “We’ve developed an improved laser pen for cutting hoofcuff chains, taser horseshoes for an added punch… And we have a new employee.”
Blueblood approached the Maid. “Charmed to meet you,” he said, politely kissing her hoof. “Perhaps we can have a longer chat one of these days. I must be off. My thanks to you all!”
His refit complete, Blueblood stomped on a button and shot back up the tube towards his next mission. The Maid stared after him in shock.
“...Maybe I’ll go without the coveralls,” she said.
At the center of the understated splendor sat two figures. One, the Majordomo, was a gaunt old stallion who looked as though he hadn’t been a horse in previous lifetimes and had only just avoided it in this one. He was dressed austerely in black, and silver locks ran down his back as his glacial blue eyes gazed down over the desk at the Applicant.
She was a small pony mare with large adorable eyes, a chartreuse coat of delicate shade, and an utterly iconic maid’s uniform, and she looked as if she was ready to bolt from the starting gate off to the far hills.
The Majordomo glanced at his papers. “You have recommendations from suitably high sources to command respect, but a lack of corresponding work experience. Might you care to explain this?”
The Maid drew breath to reply, but nothing came out. Her eyes simply grew wider.
The Majordomo raised one eyebrow. “Well…?”
The Maid shuddered under his gaze, then stared at the floor. “Well, I’m not really a maid, or a pony.” she said. “I’m an alien from another world.”
The Majordomo raised his other eyebrow but said nothing.
“I was at an anime con,” she continued, “and met a guy with funny eyebrows and a crooked grin, and he sold me a maid’s cap. I thought it would look funny with my Venom outfit, you know? Well, I put it on, and Bamf! I was transported here, as a pony mare, in a maid’s costume. I can’t get rid of it; I can take it off long enough to wash it or have a bath, but it just reappears on my body.
“I’ve seen various magicians, unicorns, to try to undo the spell and send me home, but no luck. One had me clean her entire library before admitting she couldn’t help me but that I looked so cute… She was the one who recommended me to you, and helped me to write up the paperwork. So here I am.”
A frigid moment of silence crashed down between them.
The Majordomo cleared his throat. “And you thought somehow, that when seeking a position with this noble house, on which so much trust resides, you would have the slightest chance of a job after spouting out such a ridiculous story to somepony you’d only just met…?”
The Maid winced. “I have these sudden bouts of self-damaging honesty. Works better than whips and bondage, frankly. I apologize for wasting your time, and I’ll show myself to the door.” She rose to her feet and began to back away.
“No, no, don’t leave,” he said. “You’re hired.”
She sat down again rather heavily on her round rump, sending a ripple through the plush wool carpet. “H-hired? Huh?”
The Majordomo smiled sadly. “Woodstock, 1969. I was standing there in my bell bottoms and Hendrix tie dye, when a fellow with—you said funny eyebrows? crooked grin?—sold me a tab of acid. I asked if it was real dope, and he said it would send me out of this world. It did, alright, it sent me here.
“The prior Majordomo, may his soul rest well, the one who saw through my pony false-front and hired me; he’d been at a party in Bangladesh in 1922 when a similar fellow slipped him the mickey. This isn’t a new problem. But it has become a tradition for the staff serving the nobles of this manor to welcome such refugees and give them a place to stay, and to start a new life of sorts. I still hope for some sort of solution to be found, though frankly at my age there is not much reason for me to go back…”
“That’s a little better than I’d expected,” said the Maid. “I hope I can learn enough about cleaning to justify your keeping me on.”
“Oh, you’ll only be doing a token amount of cleaning. Please come with me.” The Majordomo led the Maid down a long corridor, then took a turn down a dark staircase that led to a small wine cellar. He pulled a bottle out of a rack, reached down the hole and did something, whereupon a nearby door unlocked.
They descended further down long staircases, emerging in a well lit room, bright like fluorescent lighting. Many ponies were at work at benches, applying magic to gadgets and boxes of unknown contents. In the corner, the Maid saw what greatly resembled a classic motorcycle, and detailed models of aircraft hung from girders overhead.
“You’re reproducing Earth technology!” she said with delight. Several working ponies glanced at her, and winked.
“Correct!” smiled the Majordomo. “You might have wondered why Equestria has such archaic technology intermixed with modern and homey inventions such as radios and hydroelectric dams. With all the ex-human immigrants, we’ve formed a secret research lab, with discreet royal support, to translate Earth’s inventions into forms usable here. We have made devices, such as one called a ‘roomba’ with which you are no doubt familiar, that will handle most of the cleaning work in the house above. You may spend your remaining time assisting here. Have you any technical skills?”
“I’ve assembled some PCs—personal computers,” she said with growing hope, “And I’ve put together some kits with a soldering iron.”
“Splendid. You can don coveralls if you like, and we’ll get you started.”
The Maid noticed that several ponies present were also wearing inappropriate costumes, which the coveralls did not entirely conceal. “Just one more question. Can you tell me more about the current lord of this house? I’ve heard some rumors.”
“You can safely discredit most of them. He’s actually a very nice fellow in private—”
A pneumatic tube in the ceiling hissed, and a black and white streak dropped through it, landing with splayed hooves on the tile floor with a ringing clank. Prince Blueblood shook his immaculate gold mane, but his dinner tux was singed and smoking with an occasional arrowhead protruding from it.
“Hello again, lassies and lads! Just back from a little trouble at the Griffonstone border. I think this suit has passed its trial run, but needs a bit of freshening.”
Skilled techs surrounded him, expertly unhooked the old tux which rang in spots like a suit of armor, and clad him in a fresh version. The Maid found herself staring at his trim shoulders and strong muscular flanks.
Blueblood checked the fit and the secret pockets. “Capital! Anything new for me? I have to dash; Auntie wants me to apply some ‘creative diplomacy’ in Gemsbokia.”
The Majordomo smiled. “We’ve developed an improved laser pen for cutting hoofcuff chains, taser horseshoes for an added punch… And we have a new employee.”
Blueblood approached the Maid. “Charmed to meet you,” he said, politely kissing her hoof. “Perhaps we can have a longer chat one of these days. I must be off. My thanks to you all!”
His refit complete, Blueblood stomped on a button and shot back up the tube towards his next mission. The Maid stared after him in shock.
“...Maybe I’ll go without the coveralls,” she said.
One, the Majordomo, was a gaunt old stallion who looked as though he hadn’t been a horse in previous lifetimes and had only just avoided it in this one.
This is a great line even in a vacuum, and is then improved with the reveal of it being half true. However, that’s where my praises end.
The writing is perfectly serviceable, but there are a few problems with the story. The genre is clearly comedy, but it feels more like a concept you might laugh at in your head, not something that translates well into an actual story. There’s nothing here beyond the idea, no real humor aside from the above quote and “oh look, they’re all humans too,” which isn’t funny on its own.
The pacing goes from fine to “never mind, we have a word limit” after the first few paragraphs. The Maid spills her guts unprompted, and then it gets handwaved by saying she has sudden bouts of self-damaging honesty. I understand the intention was for it to be humorous, but it came off more like a mini exposition dump.
The lines about the dress being permanent weren’t necessary. Not only does it add little humor to the story, it actually takes away from it. Making it so she can’t take off the uniform removes some of the ridiculousness of the situation.
The Majordomo being a human could have been a neat little one-in-a-million encounter, but that quickly hops over into one-in-a-non-believable. It’s all played so nonchalantly with no straight man to provide a reference point for what’s “normal.” The Maid could have served this purpose, but she immediately accepts everything with no hesitation.
I have other minor gripes and opinions, but I’ll leave it there for now.
So, the Majordomo is Q and Blueblood is James Bond? Makes sense.
I enjoyed this story. However, I have to echo >>2Merr's comment. I feel there's too much crammed in the story. A tale of a human turned into a pony finding a place in Equestria thanks to the help of another displaced human is nice enough on its own, but under the constraints of the event's wordcount, the latter half feels like it's just plot twist after plot twist, with a new reveal coming every couple of paragraphs.
I recommend focusing on what you want to tell and make sure to spend enough time on that. As it stands, I can't give it that high of a rating.
I enjoyed this story. However, I have to echo >>2Merr's comment. I feel there's too much crammed in the story. A tale of a human turned into a pony finding a place in Equestria thanks to the help of another displaced human is nice enough on its own, but under the constraints of the event's wordcount, the latter half feels like it's just plot twist after plot twist, with a new reveal coming every couple of paragraphs.
I recommend focusing on what you want to tell and make sure to spend enough time on that. As it stands, I can't give it that high of a rating.
Zaid puts it really well when he talks about plot twist after plot twist. This is the type of story that doesn't spend much time answering any of our questions, its only intent being to introduce questions, and that's fine if there's more coming, but alas, the limit.
Here's a question: What do these displaced humans have to do with Blueblood being James Bond? Re-developing Earth technology is fine on its own, and it's not a secret operation, because as the Majordomo points out Earth tech is already all over Equestria, but then suddenly ya boi PB drops out of the sky to request some James-Bond-level tech, which is far and above soldering PCs or building planes. And he's doing secret agent stuff, not helping them get home. So why do any of these people care about his missions?
The ending line is kind of disappointing, too. The conflict of this story is set up to be about a lost human trying to get home, and the resolution appears to be that she doesn't need to get home, she just needs some of that sweet white stallion ass. That complaint could just be me. I'm not a fan of peoples' desires being replaced by romance (or lust), but that's already in the lore...
So yeah, it's a bit of a struggle, but I can appreciate the craft on display. Having read each entry now, I don't think any of us has as much fun writing their entry as you did, and who wants to knock that?
Thanks for writing !!
Here's a question: What do these displaced humans have to do with Blueblood being James Bond? Re-developing Earth technology is fine on its own, and it's not a secret operation, because as the Majordomo points out Earth tech is already all over Equestria, but then suddenly ya boi PB drops out of the sky to request some James-Bond-level tech, which is far and above soldering PCs or building planes. And he's doing secret agent stuff, not helping them get home. So why do any of these people care about his missions?
The ending line is kind of disappointing, too. The conflict of this story is set up to be about a lost human trying to get home, and the resolution appears to be that she doesn't need to get home, she just needs some of that sweet white stallion ass. That complaint could just be me. I'm not a fan of peoples' desires being replaced by romance (or lust), but that's already in the lore...
So yeah, it's a bit of a struggle, but I can appreciate the craft on display. Having read each entry now, I don't think any of us has as much fun writing their entry as you did, and who wants to knock that?
Thanks for writing !!
I agree with Miller's assessment that the fun of the writing oozes all over this. Like, I can imagine the author "tee hee heeing" at a keyboard while working on this. Great work on that.
I'll dissent from my fellows about the non-story-ness of it, though. A bit, at least. Ignoring the wibbly wobbliness of time translations between worlds for a moment, we have a little over a century (at least) of Displacements going on with no apparent luck on returning anybody home, so I'm quite okay on the focus being immediately shifted toward how the Displacements have effected Equestria and how our new Maid is going to fit in to the hidden caste.
Blueblood as James Bond is a little weird, especially given the tech level (I imagine there some magi-tech business a foot to help out), but I can roll with it as-is for the sake of bumping exactly into the word limit.
I'll dissent from my fellows about the non-story-ness of it, though. A bit, at least. Ignoring the wibbly wobbliness of time translations between worlds for a moment, we have a little over a century (at least) of Displacements going on with no apparent luck on returning anybody home, so I'm quite okay on the focus being immediately shifted toward how the Displacements have effected Equestria and how our new Maid is going to fit in to the hidden caste.
Blueblood as James Bond is a little weird, especially given the tech level (I imagine there some magi-tech business a foot to help out), but I can roll with it as-is for the sake of bumping exactly into the word limit.