The Personal Journal of the Human Twilight Sparkle, Part One · 6:58pm Oct 28th, 2014
Well, I went and saw Rainbow Rocks on TV and, hearing that there was a bit after the credits that wasn't included in the broadcast version, went and sought it out (look here for a print review with screencaps, which is less likely to mysteriously disappear than this clip, starting at 8:00). And then I was struck by the writing bug.
Now this is not going up as a regular story for two reasons: First of all, because I have no intention of finishing it, and I don't like putting my casual readers through permanently incomplete stories, especially considering how annoyed I get when it's done to me. And second, because this is one of my "introverted" stories where next to nothing actually happens, and I don't think those are as good as my other stories. With that big disclaimer out of the way, let's begin.
The Personal Journal of the Human Twilight Sparkle
Part One: Myself, and My Interests
Let me start by saying, in no uncertain terms, that I am not comfortable writing about myself. I have long considered the subject irrelevant in my researches, and one would search in vain through my eight other journals to find any information about myself that I would consider the slightest bit personal.
Nevertheless, affairs have most decidedly become personal, and so my response must be as well.
My name is Twilight Sparkle. I came from an unremarkable family, and underwent an unremarkable childhood, noted only among my peers for my insatiable curiosity in all things scientific.
It was assumed by all around me that I would be a great scientist someday, and so I believed myself. This belief got me through the standard trials of adolescence, and into college.
There, in a freak accident during an off-hours experiment, I discovered the truth about the universe, the fundamental gap that existed between what the majority of humanity thought reality was, and what it truly entailed.
I discovered magic.
I was never able to reproduce the circumstances of that experiment, but even in my failure I learned something vital about the mysterious force I was seeking: magic does not respond to reason, to laws or to strictures. Magic is a force unto itself, a force with a mind of its own.
I knew then, knew even more than I did in the immediate wake of the accident, that magic would be my calling. In retrospect, I should have realized that science was too easy for me. Everything I attempted in that field I accomplished without any appreciable effort, and no scientific theory was too obtuse for my understanding. I suppose if I wished I could have been a scientific juggernaut, bestriding the academic world like a colossus. Instead, I was banned from the University of Trottingham, scorned by those I once admired as a madwoman, and avoided by those who days earlier had claimed to be my friends, my colleagues, and my family.
I had never been so happy in my entire life.
And I was not entirely friendless. I had Spike, the dog I had met during the accident. Sure, he would forevermore be an ordinary dog, but even so, he was my dog now, and he loved me. Perhaps he had some sort of murky memory of what happened? But I am wandering a bit off topic.
In my former life, I was an expert researcher, and I turned those powers to bear against the issue of what magic truly was, and how it operated. If I could not summon it for my own study, this would have to be my pale alternative. I found...well, I found a whole lot of hokum, is what I found. But eventually, by sifting the wheat from the chaff, I finally identified one authority that I could trust: Sunspot Storm.
Sunspot Storm had had her own run-in with magic, at an earlier age even than I, but had had the good fortune to be able to follow up on it, and to have an understanding minor publisher willing to print her findings and theories. Unfortunately, in less than five years, that publisher went out of business, and Sunspot Storm never published again.
I studied her works eagerly, reading them over and over again and trying to derive workable methods from her works. I quickly realized that magic was a potentially very hazardous substance to handle, and therefore constructed my first magic wand out of birch wood and gypsum. Of course, without a source, I had no idea if it would work or not.
Sunspot Storm’s descriptions of how magic might be found and channeled were frustratingly vague, so vague that they were completely useless to me, although they did serve to explain several mysterious occurrences that happened around the world in the years immediately surrounding my birth. That was apparently the last major outbreak of magic before that point, with the exception of my experiment.
To get anywhere further, I needed to contact Sunspot Storm. Yet, that name was an alias, and hadn’t been used in a decade. Once again, I turned to my research skills, and after several months, I managed to uncover her true identity.
It occurs to me that others may end up reading this journal without my permission, if...matters tomorrow do not go as I would like. So forgive me for being vague. The woman who used the name of Sunspot Storm went on to become a scientist for a handful of years. Nobody of prominence, but an assistant in a few minor experiments. After that, she may have lost leave of her senses, because she moved into the field of education...teenage education.
I was very circumspect in the manner of my approach. I used my full name and address on the envelope, and addressed it to her true name, in case any should intercept it before her. I used shielded packaging, and I put in big bold words “Important! For your eyes only!” on it in black marker pen. I agonized for days over exactly how to word the letter inside that envelope, so much so that I can recall the opening words even two years later:
To the esteemed researcher of the paranormal, Miss Sunspot Storm:
If this is not your name, or if you have no wish to be associated with it anymore, feel free to burn this note, and I will not bother you ever again.
But, if you do wish to reply, you should know that I am probably your biggest fan, and would gladly welcome the chance to open up a line of correspondence with you.
Yes, I suppose the line about “burning this note” was a bit old-fashioned, what with the widespread use of paper shredders in academic circles, but I had impregnated the paper with a yellow phosphorus compound, and was keeping a 24/7 telescopic vigil upon her house’s smokestack, so I felt somewhat justified.
Well, I did get a reply, and it did lead to a very fruitful line of correspondence. Sunspot (she insisted that I call her by that name instead of the full “Sunspot Storm”) taught me much after she had come to trust in my pure intentions as to what I would do with a large quantity of magic once given access to it. She also shared some of her other theories, theories that I will not share with this journal. These revelations give rise to speculation that prolonged exposure to magic may have detrimental effects upon one’s sanity, because those theories were nuts!
The hour is getting late. Tomorrow morning, before it’s too late, I will recount my next experience with magic, and my first inkling about the existence of the other Twilight Sparkle.
Yours in truth and honesty,
— Twilight Sparkle, Human
Required reading: http://qntm.org/ra
Well, I liked what you wrote so far. Most if this will be jossed in a year once the third movie comes out, but speculation is half the fun of this fandom.
I don't see how this could be boring! I think this looks great. Hopefully you can post a few more. I like that Principal Celestia researched magic. Wouldexplain why the school is where it is if there is a dimensionnal weakspot that can be used as a wellspring of magic.
If this won't be completed, any chance of a 'here's what I had in mind to go after?' because it does seem like bit one of something.
I assume 'Sunspot Storm' is better known as 'Principal Celestia'
Yes, I am sure I meant to put that comment in that post. This is my way of making sure my list of unread comments doesn't decrease.