Where is Everybody? thirty six · 6:41pm Oct 8th, 2017
That apple girl hasn't been the best host ever. She seems to tire quickly of us, and apparently has precious little patience for no good slackers. Likely thinks we can go on forever. Well the joke's on her.
Miss Ginger here has been on our asses for the better part of this day, and she has no apparent intent to stop. Third day here, and she has contacted someone else.
I came back up the hill to find a trio of young children had taken Monica's car. Not necessarily taken it for a spin, but taken it for occupancy. They seemed so excited about it, and two of them were pushing it from behind. On was inside messing around with the keys, which she apparently recognised. But not the wheel. With great agility, I had stopped them before they did any permanent damage.
The other two just stood there looking vaguely at me, heads slightly tilted. As I tried to shoo them off, only one of them left, followed shortly by the next. The filly inside, outside now, did nothing but stare, smile, then finally try to talk to me. Go figure it was in that alien tongue I do not know a word of.
When I was greeted with a sound of feet padding the ground, the filly ran off and vanished in the distance. I was quickly greeted by Vinnie, who told me that there was a guest that our hostess had invited. One who apparently speaks English. I could not believe it. What benefit is there to lie? Yet it has to be too good to be true.
It's not. An aquamarine coat and silver hair and hazel eyes belonging to a young man awaited us in the den. And he had a cloak on, unlike AB, (That's what he calls her), who is still with nothing but her coat, au naturale. Actually, he slipped his coat on as we entered, as if he thought this would make us more comfortable. It would not matter, as he knows our language. That's enough. Val was already in there, and our new guest seemed flushed by being alone with him, not that it mattered, as we'd all be there and share the wealth. He lit up when we came in, and likely got more energised now that we were all here, AB included.
He introduced himself to us as Lyle Harper, and told us he's been waiting for this moment for the better part of three years. He's had his eyes on us- or our kind- for the last two and a half years. He said he knows we're not from around here, and that these aren't our actual bodies.
"You are probably wondering who I am, where I am from, and where we are. You know we know your home, but you don't know ours. I'd be eager to tell you, but right now, you all look famished. We're going into town. There is a small village called PV you'd like to see. By your measurement, it's only half a mile from the edge of this orchard. Follow me."
Lyle took us outside where a couple of wheeled carts awaited us. The same ones AB had us loads barrels of apples into. As we prepared to leave the plantation, Lyle stood in front of us in such a manner as to give us a good view of his right hip. Or rather, he would had the cloak not still been on. When we caught him slipping it on before, Vinnie and I caught a good long view of his hip, and an image of what looked like a harp was on it. This is the third time I have seen something like this. Or heard of it. Allegedly, my friend, or rather acquaintance Sweet Stuff has one on hers, like an apple seed being beamed on by the sun's rays, and she's had it since day one, I've overheard.
He told us he was from this world, and what it was named. He said he's from a large city directly north or this town, and visits often enough. He knows more people from PV than the city he lives and works in.
We left the orchard and had a good run though the trees, which AB seems to love ever so much. Like her own sons and daughters, she religiously provides them water. Down the road and out of the trees we go, and I could see the faint outline of a town in the distance. On we trot, and Lyle stopped for a second to tell Val De Lump to put on this cloak. The town's ponies won't react to seeing an insect like being like him very well. He complied without a protest.
When we came in, all eyes were directed in our direction. More ponies looking physically, biologically like me, yet all carrying themselves differently, most walking a bit more briskly, at a trot. And likely their whole lives. I was walking sturdily, but not with gusto or confidence. I can sprint, but I try to do it least often as I can. Vinnie and Val both caught even more, being the only insect and reptile like beings here. And most had only their coats and nothing else.
Everywhere I looked, there was straw in sight. Straw here, straw there, straw everywhere it would not be found in the town of angles.
Before we even went in, we can smell baked goods off of the main street. I cannot recall the last time I had something so sweet and luscious. The proprietor, a mare he called Cupcake offered us wine, which we all accepted. Only I got slightly dizzy, as Val and Vinnie tried to limit their intake to a taste.
We thanked Cupcake, and Lyle responded for us. He then told us he has three friends who sound exactly like her, named Rare, Ditsy, Muffin, and one other he works for he won't tell us the name of, as he wants her to introduce herself. It is with her he has been observing our world through a magic mirror, one that transmits waves and communicates between worlds, dimensions. I somehow had trouble believing that, with even all that has happened. We went back to the house where AB treated us more kindly, and let us use the room upstairs. Tomorrow, we were going to see her. At the end of the one main street was a platform that looms over the town at large, visible from any main place in town.
Those three kids were outside gawking at us again before we went to bed, and I saw a woman riding on a cloud again, only this time, I know she was real. Obviously not the same one, but same principle, and this one seemed content with the world rather than worried. And she didn't seem that high of altitude. What was odd was there hasn't been the least gust of wind since we have been here, yet the solar and lunar cycle seem to work normally. The sun rises and sets, the moon seems to follow a similar cycle as on Earth, and Lyle confirms this, yet he remains quiet to anything we don't outright ask. There seemed to be a wind blowing up there we could not feel down here, yet it does not howl, nor bend the trees. I'll ask him then.
Please please please don't abbreviate proper nouns. Any name, be it the name of a person, place, or thing, should pretty much always be spelled out. No PV, AB, etc. Use the name every time. Or, for people (but not locations) you can use a nickname every now and then, but even then we should still see the full name every now and then. To do otherwise is to make a story that's incredibly confusing and hard to follow.
4697502
4697502
Sure. Of course. No one ever abbreviates the town of angles, nor will they recognise SF.
Similarly, no one else who might read this will know what AB is, nor PV. Silly me.
Onward, what do you think of my selection of players?
4697583
I'm not saying no one will be able to figure them out, I'm saying it makes the writing read in a childish way. Like a little kid wrote it who is embarrassed to say the word "Ponyville." Abbreviations have basically no place in creative fiction, except _maybe_ in the dialogue of military characters.
4697912
Alright. Beyond this, selection of players. What do you think?