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Manifestation
"Oh, Starlight!" Spike walked in with a mop slung over his shoulder. "There you are! You've been down here since this morning?"
Starlight Glimmer turned to face him with a glower.
"Sorry I asked—"
"No, Spike," Starlight said, quickly and consciously reworking her expression. "It's not you, it's this stupid assignment." She scooped up a dollop of clay and slapped it back into the glob on the table.
"Having trouble, how did Twilight put it, 'manifesting an expression of your most deeply-held dread'?"
"In the first place," Starlight said, "it's a pointless exercise. It's entirely possible to avoid talking about one's existential issues without some clay statue as a monument to them." She paused as she replayed the words in her mind. "I mean, possible to talk about them without and so on. More to the point, I don't have any sources of existential dread."
Spike looked back from hanging the mop on a Spike-reachable set of hooks on the wall. "Wow, really? Sounds pretty great to be you, Starlight."
"Not anything special, anyway, and nothing that can be expressed in clay." She spat the word like mud. "Sure, I feel the clutches of my own mortality sometimes, or worry that I'll die alone and forgotten and unloved, or that Celestia will some day lock the sun overhead and give everyone terrible sunburn, or there's that noise that Maud makes when she grinds her teeth, but none of those can really be made manifest in clay, you know?"
Spike paused mid-reach. "Wanna run that last one by me again?"
"Or, like, am I supposed to make a diorama of dozens of ponies with pitchforks and torches coming to take me away and drown me in a river with my hooves out of clay? With no magic allowed?" Starlight tore off another hunk of clay and slapped it back into the mass. "I mean... how?"
Spike slipped past her, a spray-bottle of glass cleaner in one hand and a rag in the other. "I was never a part of this conversation, was I?"
"And, sure, let's say I go with that teeth-grinding noise – how is that supposed to work in clay, anyway? It's not like I can sculpt Maud – I like Maud! It's that horrible, wrenching, grating noise that gets into your skull and... Spike, where are you going with that dolly?"
"Oh," Spike said, surprised, a loading dolly pulled behind him, nearly horizontal. "Your room, actually. We need to move your bookshelves a bit to make space for the tank."
"My room? Wait, what tank?"
"The – Oh, right, you've been down here since breakfast. C'mon up, we'll introduce you!"
"Introduce me? To who?"
At the foot of the crystal stairs was a massive glass globe; a goldfish bowl on steroids. Starlight quickly identified Twilight in front of it, floating a book and a half-dozen pony-length pieces of thick rope around her, her expression that of frustrated lead, talking to herself in snatches.
"Oh, that's... yes we, ah, let's see turtle shell..." Moved the ropes, "right?" Looked at the tank. Rifled hurriedly through the book, skipping back and ahead. "Yellow... plankton... behind?" More page-turning, more rope. "Behind?" More looking. "Oh, behind!" Turned around.
"You know," Starlight said, "nevermind. I think I figured it out and I'm going to get started sculpting—"
"Don't go Starlight!" Twilight called. "Trying to talk to him is so frustrating! It's amazing that we even can communicate, and Fluttershy and I already have corrections for the translator who wrote this book, but it's so slow, awkward, and circumlocutious I'm starting to go out of my skull already. Oh, ah..." She paged through the book and wiggled the ropes again at the tank. "...Glimmer, I think?"
"Meet the ruling monarch of the Nautilus," Spike said. "Exiled for absolutely no reason whatsoever under pain of death and requesting asylum and temporary residence on land."
"Good, Spike," Twilight said, noticing him. "You have the dolly. Leave the glass polish here and take care of it upstairs?"
"You got it..." And up the stairs he went, dolly clanking behind him.
"Starlight," Twilight said, "meet his royal highness. Call him Ishmael."
It took Starlight a moment to realize that the globe was filled near to the brim several hooves overhead with water, and that there was a thing maybe twice the size of a pony floating there. "Uhuagh," Starlight started.
It was as though somepony had given a beard to a gigantic dollop of toothpaste. It was a bundle of blue-green silk wrapped around hovering pustule of phlegm. It was a wet paper bag spilling snakes forever. It had lidless, lifeless, alien eyes (presumably two, Starlight reasoned, though she only saw the one) half the size of its body, turned to flense away all pretense and ego to peer deep into her and reveal her soul or skeleton, whichever the (supposed) creature felt like devouring at the time.
"Muagh..." Starlight tried again. "H-hi?" She forced a smile and lifted a hoof to wave.
"Nodon'tdothat, Starlight!" Twilight yelped, her grip slamming Starlight's hoof to the floor so hard it hurt. "That gesture is a grave offense in his culture."
"Oh," Starlight managed. "Well, it was nice meeting you, your highness."
Twilight offered the ropes and book. "You can tell him yourself."
"Nope," Starlight chirruped. "I'm good. I gather he's lodging in my room for a bit, sounds great."
"Are you being difficult again, Starlight?"
"He can stay as long as he needs. I'm going back to the study and I'll just stay there for a few weeks." She started to bow, paused, and glanced to Twilight. "Any grave offense if I just turn and walk away?"
"Not to him, anyway," Twilight grumbled.
"Thanks!"
Twilight trotted into the study, carrying platter of tea and sandwiches. Her tone was far more chipper than her sagging features. "Hi, Starlight! Sorry about before. I brought dinner."
"Thanks, Twilight." Starlight surreptitiously pushed the plate of veggie cuts under some muddy rags. "That's very kind of you."
"Oh! You've finished your assignment?"
"Almost. Once I realized what I needed to express, it was pretty quick work."
Twilight absently set down the tray and circled the table. "Mm-hmm, mm-hmm. It's a unicorn... is it yourself? You fear what you were? Or what you might become? I can't really make out the hair or the expression, and you haven't added a cutie mark to identify anypony specifically..."
"Excuse me for having to do it all with my hooves," Starlight muttered disdainfully.
Twilight didn't hear. "Well, we can talk all about it over this bite to eat, right? I can't wait to—"
"Nope," Starlight chirruped. Her smile never faltered. "No, I'm going to just stay in here for a good long while and you're going back outside and leaving me alone for a few days because you, Twilight, are unpredictable, dangerous, and absolutely terrifying."
Starlight Glimmer turned to face him with a glower.
"Sorry I asked—"
"No, Spike," Starlight said, quickly and consciously reworking her expression. "It's not you, it's this stupid assignment." She scooped up a dollop of clay and slapped it back into the glob on the table.
"Having trouble, how did Twilight put it, 'manifesting an expression of your most deeply-held dread'?"
"In the first place," Starlight said, "it's a pointless exercise. It's entirely possible to avoid talking about one's existential issues without some clay statue as a monument to them." She paused as she replayed the words in her mind. "I mean, possible to talk about them without and so on. More to the point, I don't have any sources of existential dread."
Spike looked back from hanging the mop on a Spike-reachable set of hooks on the wall. "Wow, really? Sounds pretty great to be you, Starlight."
"Not anything special, anyway, and nothing that can be expressed in clay." She spat the word like mud. "Sure, I feel the clutches of my own mortality sometimes, or worry that I'll die alone and forgotten and unloved, or that Celestia will some day lock the sun overhead and give everyone terrible sunburn, or there's that noise that Maud makes when she grinds her teeth, but none of those can really be made manifest in clay, you know?"
Spike paused mid-reach. "Wanna run that last one by me again?"
"Or, like, am I supposed to make a diorama of dozens of ponies with pitchforks and torches coming to take me away and drown me in a river with my hooves out of clay? With no magic allowed?" Starlight tore off another hunk of clay and slapped it back into the mass. "I mean... how?"
Spike slipped past her, a spray-bottle of glass cleaner in one hand and a rag in the other. "I was never a part of this conversation, was I?"
"And, sure, let's say I go with that teeth-grinding noise – how is that supposed to work in clay, anyway? It's not like I can sculpt Maud – I like Maud! It's that horrible, wrenching, grating noise that gets into your skull and... Spike, where are you going with that dolly?"
"Oh," Spike said, surprised, a loading dolly pulled behind him, nearly horizontal. "Your room, actually. We need to move your bookshelves a bit to make space for the tank."
"My room? Wait, what tank?"
"The – Oh, right, you've been down here since breakfast. C'mon up, we'll introduce you!"
"Introduce me? To who?"
At the foot of the crystal stairs was a massive glass globe; a goldfish bowl on steroids. Starlight quickly identified Twilight in front of it, floating a book and a half-dozen pony-length pieces of thick rope around her, her expression that of frustrated lead, talking to herself in snatches.
"Oh, that's... yes we, ah, let's see turtle shell..." Moved the ropes, "right?" Looked at the tank. Rifled hurriedly through the book, skipping back and ahead. "Yellow... plankton... behind?" More page-turning, more rope. "Behind?" More looking. "Oh, behind!" Turned around.
"You know," Starlight said, "nevermind. I think I figured it out and I'm going to get started sculpting—"
"Don't go Starlight!" Twilight called. "Trying to talk to him is so frustrating! It's amazing that we even can communicate, and Fluttershy and I already have corrections for the translator who wrote this book, but it's so slow, awkward, and circumlocutious I'm starting to go out of my skull already. Oh, ah..." She paged through the book and wiggled the ropes again at the tank. "...Glimmer, I think?"
"Meet the ruling monarch of the Nautilus," Spike said. "Exiled for absolutely no reason whatsoever under pain of death and requesting asylum and temporary residence on land."
"Good, Spike," Twilight said, noticing him. "You have the dolly. Leave the glass polish here and take care of it upstairs?"
"You got it..." And up the stairs he went, dolly clanking behind him.
"Starlight," Twilight said, "meet his royal highness. Call him Ishmael."
It took Starlight a moment to realize that the globe was filled near to the brim several hooves overhead with water, and that there was a thing maybe twice the size of a pony floating there. "Uhuagh," Starlight started.
It was as though somepony had given a beard to a gigantic dollop of toothpaste. It was a bundle of blue-green silk wrapped around hovering pustule of phlegm. It was a wet paper bag spilling snakes forever. It had lidless, lifeless, alien eyes (presumably two, Starlight reasoned, though she only saw the one) half the size of its body, turned to flense away all pretense and ego to peer deep into her and reveal her soul or skeleton, whichever the (supposed) creature felt like devouring at the time.
"Muagh..." Starlight tried again. "H-hi?" She forced a smile and lifted a hoof to wave.
"Nodon'tdothat, Starlight!" Twilight yelped, her grip slamming Starlight's hoof to the floor so hard it hurt. "That gesture is a grave offense in his culture."
"Oh," Starlight managed. "Well, it was nice meeting you, your highness."
Twilight offered the ropes and book. "You can tell him yourself."
"Nope," Starlight chirruped. "I'm good. I gather he's lodging in my room for a bit, sounds great."
"Are you being difficult again, Starlight?"
"He can stay as long as he needs. I'm going back to the study and I'll just stay there for a few weeks." She started to bow, paused, and glanced to Twilight. "Any grave offense if I just turn and walk away?"
"Not to him, anyway," Twilight grumbled.
"Thanks!"
Twilight trotted into the study, carrying platter of tea and sandwiches. Her tone was far more chipper than her sagging features. "Hi, Starlight! Sorry about before. I brought dinner."
"Thanks, Twilight." Starlight surreptitiously pushed the plate of veggie cuts under some muddy rags. "That's very kind of you."
"Oh! You've finished your assignment?"
"Almost. Once I realized what I needed to express, it was pretty quick work."
Twilight absently set down the tray and circled the table. "Mm-hmm, mm-hmm. It's a unicorn... is it yourself? You fear what you were? Or what you might become? I can't really make out the hair or the expression, and you haven't added a cutie mark to identify anypony specifically..."
"Excuse me for having to do it all with my hooves," Starlight muttered disdainfully.
Twilight didn't hear. "Well, we can talk all about it over this bite to eat, right? I can't wait to—"
"Nope," Starlight chirruped. Her smile never faltered. "No, I'm going to just stay in here for a good long while and you're going back outside and leaving me alone for a few days because you, Twilight, are unpredictable, dangerous, and absolutely terrifying."
Pics
The way Twilight's characterized:
Really bothered me throughout. It's just that I can't imagine her acting this way at all, and while "character assassination comedy" is a fine and venerable genre, I didn't find this at all funny.
If you're trying to make this a comedy where Twilight's behaving crazily and the others are reacting crazily to it, I'd say you need to go crazier. 'Cause right now, it's just making me wrinkle my brow at it instead of making me laugh...
Mike
Really bothered me throughout. It's just that I can't imagine her acting this way at all, and while "character assassination comedy" is a fine and venerable genre, I didn't find this at all funny.
If you're trying to make this a comedy where Twilight's behaving crazily and the others are reacting crazily to it, I'd say you need to go crazier. 'Cause right now, it's just making me wrinkle my brow at it instead of making me laugh...
Mike
Genre: Thinly veiled political commentary?
Thoughts: I was hoping that this would land differently than it did in its final line. Don't get me wrong: kudos for successfully executing a setup and payoff that I didn't see coming. The circumstances are a bit odd, but the results are internally consistent with Starlight's experience with Twilight in this fic. Maybe the issue for me as a reader is that, to make this work fully, I have to buy that Twilight does stuff like this to Starlight all the time, without regarding her preferences and feelings. I have no problem buying that to some extent. I'm not sure if I buy it to quite the extent that's being asked of me, though; at least not without additional setup.
However, the fic we've got is the fic we've got, and in many ways I think it is well-composed and successful. I love the expressiveness of the prose, particularly in the segment with the monarch. It's like I could see him in my mind quite vividly (at which point my mind mashed the eject button in horror). I thought the use of rope as communicative gestures was clever. It's successful in its humor. Truth be told, there are enough creative details here that this required some re-reading to pick up on everything.
That ending, though. And perhaps that beginning. Why was Starlight given this assignment? Presumably this was set during the time when Starlight was Twilight's student. Maybe Twilight was still learning as a teacher (scratch that: she definitely was). But still, this ends on a note that doesn't suggest they'll reconcile, grow close, and become true friends. If this is meant to slot into that moment of time, I would hope to see some kind of a path for them to get back on track.
...Which raises the point that I'm mentally trying to slot this into a canon or near-canon timeline and/or depiction of the characters. That's a me thing, not necessarily an author thing. But everyone's voice and decisions feel true-to-form up to the last line, which I have a harder time letting go of. The story sets up expectations that we're not too far afield from the Equestria we know. If it wants to prep me otherwise, I need a little more help getting there.
I dunno. I'm circling around a ranking decision. Perhaps I'll take the coward's way out and defer that for now. I feel like this should rank well because of its overall strong execution, but I need to spend more time reflecting on it.
Tier:TBD Almost There
Thoughts: I was hoping that this would land differently than it did in its final line. Don't get me wrong: kudos for successfully executing a setup and payoff that I didn't see coming. The circumstances are a bit odd, but the results are internally consistent with Starlight's experience with Twilight in this fic. Maybe the issue for me as a reader is that, to make this work fully, I have to buy that Twilight does stuff like this to Starlight all the time, without regarding her preferences and feelings. I have no problem buying that to some extent. I'm not sure if I buy it to quite the extent that's being asked of me, though; at least not without additional setup.
However, the fic we've got is the fic we've got, and in many ways I think it is well-composed and successful. I love the expressiveness of the prose, particularly in the segment with the monarch. It's like I could see him in my mind quite vividly (at which point my mind mashed the eject button in horror). I thought the use of rope as communicative gestures was clever. It's successful in its humor. Truth be told, there are enough creative details here that this required some re-reading to pick up on everything.
That ending, though. And perhaps that beginning. Why was Starlight given this assignment? Presumably this was set during the time when Starlight was Twilight's student. Maybe Twilight was still learning as a teacher (scratch that: she definitely was). But still, this ends on a note that doesn't suggest they'll reconcile, grow close, and become true friends. If this is meant to slot into that moment of time, I would hope to see some kind of a path for them to get back on track.
...Which raises the point that I'm mentally trying to slot this into a canon or near-canon timeline and/or depiction of the characters. That's a me thing, not necessarily an author thing. But everyone's voice and decisions feel true-to-form up to the last line, which I have a harder time letting go of. The story sets up expectations that we're not too far afield from the Equestria we know. If it wants to prep me otherwise, I need a little more help getting there.
I dunno. I'm circling around a ranking decision. Perhaps I'll take the coward's way out and defer that for now. I feel like this should rank well because of its overall strong execution, but I need to spend more time reflecting on it.
Tier:
I’m between Baal’s and Coffee’s post. I think I can safely say this is a Comedy.
I guess the biggest problem with this is that it has an identity crisis. Comedic for the punchline (and the interactions of Starlight and Twilight), but something else I can’t quite put a hoof on… I dunno.
The next biggest thing is that the trope goes as ‘This is Twilight’s problem, but it also becomes Starlight’s problem’. No problem with tropes, but tropes can make or break a story depending on context. Coffee does have a point when this could happen when Twilight is beginning to take on Starlight as her student. In the vein of Baal’s comment, I agree on the fact that the zany/craziness factor needs to upped with a bit of flowery embellishment, that is, if you are going the comedy direction. However, humor me while I bring something different to the table:
Like Coffee, the imagery of a Lovecraftian horror living in a fishbowl in Starlight’s room does work well. Attempting to communicate with it is Twilight, with a use of a rope. I’m getting Arrival vibes from this one. I’d say, take that detail if you’re trying for a serious fic, and spin it into gold. Linguistics is an interesting topic to visit, as the message of Arrival is that language influences how we perceive things.
…or if you are going to stay comedy, then that’s good too :pinkiesmile:
I guess the biggest problem with this is that it has an identity crisis. Comedic for the punchline (and the interactions of Starlight and Twilight), but something else I can’t quite put a hoof on… I dunno.
The next biggest thing is that the trope goes as ‘This is Twilight’s problem, but it also becomes Starlight’s problem’. No problem with tropes, but tropes can make or break a story depending on context. Coffee does have a point when this could happen when Twilight is beginning to take on Starlight as her student. In the vein of Baal’s comment, I agree on the fact that the zany/craziness factor needs to upped with a bit of flowery embellishment, that is, if you are going the comedy direction. However, humor me while I bring something different to the table:
Like Coffee, the imagery of a Lovecraftian horror living in a fishbowl in Starlight’s room does work well. Attempting to communicate with it is Twilight, with a use of a rope. I’m getting Arrival vibes from this one. I’d say, take that detail if you’re trying for a serious fic, and spin it into gold. Linguistics is an interesting topic to visit, as the message of Arrival is that language influences how we perceive things.
…or if you are going to stay comedy, then that’s good too :pinkiesmile:
I'm never really good when it comes to reviewing the more comedic stories, though I think this story has an interesting throughline that helps distinguish it from most comedies I've read, this one being Starlight's assignment. With that in mind, I can find myself appreciating this a lot more than I did at first glance, though it does leave me all the more perplexed as to how this chain of events came to pass as a result.
Most of the issues holding me back from really enjoying this story does stem from the lack of context with everything involved. To echo >>CoffeeMinion's question, why was Starlight given this assignment in the first place? What in-world purpose does it bring? I don't really mind as much when it comes to Twilight somehow finding this monarch in the first place—I'm sure her general volatility is exactly what Starlight found unnerving, and in turn, provided her with the answer to her clay assignment. Perhaps it's this same sense of fickle uncertainty that prompted Twilight to assign this task to her in the first place? Perhaps, though I can tell you it's not a convincing enough answer when Starlight seems to be fine with the assignment itself but becomes conveniently put off when the monarch comes into play.
That aside, what we're given here is indeed an enjoyable read. I'm actually quite a fan of the interactions between everyone here and I concur that the scene involving the monarch is creative and spellbinding in its own strange way. All of it says to me that there is a considerable amount of effort placed into making this scene come across as naturally as it is. Nevertheless, there are a bunch of questions that I think the story needed to answer for us to make sense of it all. Hopefully with the proper context, this story will allow us to sit back and enjoy the fun hijinks-fueled ride that it aspires to be.
Thanks for writing, and good luck!
Most of the issues holding me back from really enjoying this story does stem from the lack of context with everything involved. To echo >>CoffeeMinion's question, why was Starlight given this assignment in the first place? What in-world purpose does it bring? I don't really mind as much when it comes to Twilight somehow finding this monarch in the first place—I'm sure her general volatility is exactly what Starlight found unnerving, and in turn, provided her with the answer to her clay assignment. Perhaps it's this same sense of fickle uncertainty that prompted Twilight to assign this task to her in the first place? Perhaps, though I can tell you it's not a convincing enough answer when Starlight seems to be fine with the assignment itself but becomes conveniently put off when the monarch comes into play.
That aside, what we're given here is indeed an enjoyable read. I'm actually quite a fan of the interactions between everyone here and I concur that the scene involving the monarch is creative and spellbinding in its own strange way. All of it says to me that there is a considerable amount of effort placed into making this scene come across as naturally as it is. Nevertheless, there are a bunch of questions that I think the story needed to answer for us to make sense of it all. Hopefully with the proper context, this story will allow us to sit back and enjoy the fun hijinks-fueled ride that it aspires to be.
Thanks for writing, and good luck!
>>Baal Bunny
>>CoffeeMinion
>>PinoyPony
>>WritingSpirit
This was the second story I wanted to write, but the first one that I did (and, at that time, the only one I thought I would write).
Cut and dried, this was little more than an attempt to use a classical four-act structure to tell a comedy. I cobbled the bits together in a half-hour, hammered out the draft in another half, and then life happened. With the additional 24-hour grace period, I decided to just own what I had and file off the rough edges, then move on to create the piece that I really wanted to write. Had I taken more time to consider exactly how the pieces fit together, I worry that this story simply wouldn't exist; as it stands that would seem a net gain, but maybe I can salvage something from it as commenters have suggested.
Every bit of critique you gave is valid. I can turn my mind about and see where you're all coming from. The text doesn't clarify what Twilight is doing and why; Starlight's chafing is poorly communicated. I thank you all for your considerations.
I'm tickled that Ishmael's description ('Nemo' just wasn't working for me) connected so well, as it involved two aspects I almost never exercise: "repeated" multi-faceted descriptions, and allegorical(?) descriptions/metaphors.
Coffee, if there's a political commentary, you'll have to tell me what it might be.
>>CoffeeMinion
>>PinoyPony
>>WritingSpirit
This was the second story I wanted to write, but the first one that I did (and, at that time, the only one I thought I would write).
Cut and dried, this was little more than an attempt to use a classical four-act structure to tell a comedy. I cobbled the bits together in a half-hour, hammered out the draft in another half, and then life happened. With the additional 24-hour grace period, I decided to just own what I had and file off the rough edges, then move on to create the piece that I really wanted to write. Had I taken more time to consider exactly how the pieces fit together, I worry that this story simply wouldn't exist; as it stands that would seem a net gain, but maybe I can salvage something from it as commenters have suggested.
Every bit of critique you gave is valid. I can turn my mind about and see where you're all coming from. The text doesn't clarify what Twilight is doing and why; Starlight's chafing is poorly communicated. I thank you all for your considerations.
I'm tickled that Ishmael's description ('Nemo' just wasn't working for me) connected so well, as it involved two aspects I almost never exercise: "repeated" multi-faceted descriptions, and allegorical(?) descriptions/metaphors.
Coffee, if there's a political commentary, you'll have to tell me what it might be.
>>KwirkyJ
Something about a grotesque, exiled ruler who sows discord (if not Discord) in his wake just spoke to me in the present moment. I dunno. :-p
Well I for one am glad this exists, and would be willing to give it a once-or-twice-over if you choose to revisit it for publication. I think you’ve got a strong core here.
Something about a grotesque, exiled ruler who sows discord (if not Discord) in his wake just spoke to me in the present moment. I dunno. :-p
Well I for one am glad this exists, and would be willing to give it a once-or-twice-over if you choose to revisit it for publication. I think you’ve got a strong core here.
>>KwirkyJ
I really, really like:
The basic idea here--Starlight coming to realize that, as much as she loves and respects Twilight as a friend and a mentor, she's also deeply, absolutely, and viscerally terrified of her. You wouldn't have to exaggerate Twilight's behavior at all, it seems to me: there's plenty of evidence in the show to make a case for Starlight's massively conflicting feelings toward Twilight. A story where she tries to confront these feelings could be quite powerful...
Mike
I really, really like:
The basic idea here--Starlight coming to realize that, as much as she loves and respects Twilight as a friend and a mentor, she's also deeply, absolutely, and viscerally terrified of her. You wouldn't have to exaggerate Twilight's behavior at all, it seems to me: there's plenty of evidence in the show to make a case for Starlight's massively conflicting feelings toward Twilight. A story where she tries to confront these feelings could be quite powerful...
Mike