"The Turntablist"
Confidence. A valuable trait. One that tempers the mind with an iron will, and swells the voice with power. An asset that sways the strong and inspires the weak. An unsinkable ship that braves the rapids of doubt, and sails her captain through any storm.
A gift that a frowning young dragon sorely lacked.
This was nothing new, really. Spike should have been used to it, in fact. He should have known the confidence he desperately needed would be so cruelly snatched away every time he stood at that doorstep. But he wasn’t used to it. With every failed confession replaying in his head, Spike was sure he’d never be used to it. He still tried, though.
Determination, perhaps his only saving grace, brought him here, and kept his hopes a nose above dangerous waters.
The same determination that kept an old caretaker in sweet, sweet memories. The same determination that inspired an itchy quill-stroke to sign Golden Oaks Library to his name.
And as he lifted a curled knuckle to the door of Carousel Boutique, Spike clung to that strength by his very scales. Even more so, when he finally gave the door three solid knocks. Wringing his claws, Spike mulled over every lesson he’d learned. It was fuzzy, downright hazy, to be sure, and there wasn’t a miracle bright enough to convince him that any of it could work.
The moment that door opened, Spike would know for sure.
“Spike? Why, hello there!” Rarity greeted with a smile unmatched. “How are you?”
Then something snapped, and a light flickered behind lime-green eyes. “Bored and looking for something interesting to talk about,” Spike offered with a smirk. “S’why I’m here.”
Rarity paused. And Spike caught it.
“Is that so?” Rarity quirked a brow, her smile remaining. “Growing tired of reading those dusty old books, are we?”
“Those ‘dusty old books’ keep a roof over my head. Of course, that was Twilight’s excuse, so I got nothin’,” Spike said with a light shrug.
The twists in Spike’s chest loosened, and his smile widened at Rarity’s stifled giggles. “My, oh my. How very crude of you,” she said.
“Eh. I learned from the best. *Cough* Applejack. *Cough*.”
As Rarity’s gentle giggles became full-on laughter, every horrible fantasy that ended in tears and wasted affection slowly faded to black. “My word. What has gotten into you, Spike?” Rarity asked, her hoof lifted fondly to her chin.
Spike stared idly at one of his claws. “If the drinking age was any lower, I’d probably tell you,” he said. Then his smile dropped. “Probably.”
Another fit of laughter brought his smirk back with a vengeance. “Tsk, Tsk. We’re drinking now?” Rarity played along with a smirk of her own. “Terrific parenting on Twilight’s part.”
Spike cautiously side-glanced, almost believing he’d be teleported before an angry princess. “Shush! The last time I called her ‘Mom’ I got the worst lecture about maternal rights,” he said. Then his brows flattened. “And I had dish duty for a week."
Rarity offered her best mocking gasp. “Oh, but of course. Heaven forbid you suffer the punishment of everyday tasks,” she replied.
“Hey, I have standards too, ya know,” Spike said.
It took every deep-breathing exercise, and one-word chant he’d ever learned to keep his cool. For all his worry, and laughable attempts to talk to Rarity before, this was going splendidly well. Almost too splendidly well. But he squashed down the belly-flutters and maintained his form.
“Spike? Would you like to come in?” Rarity offered.
Spike straightened up and lifted a brow at the mare. He almost couldn’t believewhat he saw, but it was there. As clear as day, Rarity’s eyes brimmed with eagerness. She was likely unaware of her giveaway, but Spike wasn’t about to ruin his triumph by telling her.
“Aren’t Tuesdays your ‘everypony-leave-me-to-my-work’ days?” Spike asked with a challenging smirk.
To his delight, Rarity seemed to catch his jab. “Standards~” she sing-sang.
“Oh. Well, I guess I’ll just be on my way.“ Spike turned with the breeze, hiding an opened eye.
If Rarity’s face hadn’t mocked a filly staring helplessly at a terrible beast that stole her favorite toy, Spike wouldn’t fight the laughter throbbing in his lungs. But just as quickly, Rarity restacked her poise. “It’s no trouble, darling. In fact, I was ready for a break,” she said.
Spike tapped his chin with a very uninterested hum.
“I insist,” Rarity said.
The finality of those words shot ice through Spike’s veins. But, again, he kept his cool, almost unable to catch the grin tugging his lips. Almost.
“You know what? I’d love to,” Spike said, mutely thanking every god in existence for this day.
**********
That mare could talk. It wasn’t too terrible, actually. As they sat across from one another, enjoying cups of warm tea, Spike completely understood why Rarity deepened his need for earplugs. They both, after all, found time for little else but their own very different affairs. With Rarity’s Boutique flourishing, and Spike aging regrettably faster with new tasks as a homeowner, there was quite a lot to catch up on.
A few times, Spike’s eyes had drifted to Carousel Boutique’s grander, more decorated look. A touch more superb than the months before, he admitted. Of course, he would only break eye contact to acknowledge this when they, or rather, Rarity, talked about it. Out of immovable respect, and vaguely irrational fear, Spike didn’t dare let anything else distract him.
But, by the sun and moon, that mare could talk.
Some part of his mind, the part he could actually hear, was fond of this discussion. Of course, it wasn’t entirely clear where, or why, it went from ‘booming business’ to ‘my favorite toothbrush’, but just hearing Rarity’s voice, drinking in every pour of her presence, made it all worthwhile. It always had.
Then, Spike made the fatal mistake of staring blankly at her.
“Spike?” Rarity inquired with a light frown. “Darling, are you listening?”
The world suddenly regained clarity, throwing Spike into a fit of sputters. When he had sense enough to realize his mistake, Spike called upon the lessons bestowed upon him, trying his damnedest to brush off Rarity’s darkening glare.
“Nope,” Spike answered curtly. He smiled at Rarity’s dejected yelp. “I’m a little more interested in your designs, actually.”
Rarity quirked an eyebrow. “My… Oh!” Her eyes widened like a switch flipped in her head.
Spike leaned back in his seat. “Don’t look so surprised. I did manage to learn a few things, ya know,” she said.
That wasn’t a total lie. But it was a helluva gamble, having about as much knowledge of fashion as Pinkie Pie. Spike grimaced at the thought. And if Rarity’s resumed onslaught of words hadn’t made Spike want to throw himself off a bridge, then the chosen topic certainly had.
But somewhere between ‘clashing colors’ and ‘untrimmed ruffles’, Spike took a daring step, and turned his attention to Rarity’s current project.
Spike hopped from his seat, and stepped before the pony-quinne adorning a fresh new design. He allowed a tiny smile, sensing a profound difference from this design, and the ones from yesteryear. “This… this is missing something,” Spike said with crossed arms.
Rarity’s ears flicked at those words, and was immediately at her friend’s side.
Was Spike actually paying attention to the fine details woven into Rarity’s tasteful design? No. Of course not. But if Rarity’s glimmering stare meant anything, then the façade would hold. Solidly. Spike paused for only a moment, a bit flattered that someone who had tamed the complexities of fashion, sought the approving gaze from someone who really didn’t care.
Then he smiled wryly, and stepped forward. “Ah-ha! The Fire Ruby!” Spike exclaimed with a lifted finger.
Rarity gasped from behind him. Be it from the outburst, or something else entirely, Spike was uncertain.
“The… t-the Fire Ruby?” Rarity echoed, suddenly looking very unsure. “Well I don’t know, Spike. I-I mean it’s a little on the bulky side, and I don’t think that shade of red could-“
“You should totally try it!” Spike said, ignoring Rarity’s protests. “Where is it, anyway?”
Rarity resisted a terrible itch to chomp on her foreleg. “W-where is… what again… darling?” she offered with a pathetic, dainty laugh.
The moment Spike turned to her, Rarity recoiled as though a snake had bitten her, chewing on her lip with wet eyes. “You, uh… do still have the Fire Ruby I gave you. Right, Rarity?” Spike asked.
Honestly, Spike already knew the answer. In fact, he’d known for quite a while that his gift was squandered away on some other design months ago. But any reason to milk Rarity’s duress fell empty to her sobs.
“Oh, Spike! I… I’m a terrible, awful friend!” Rarity cried, burying her face in her hooves. “It’s gone! Cast aside by a filthy, undeserving mule!”
Spike winced at the sudden pang in his heart, and approached Rarity with quiet steps. But Rarity retreated from him like he dripped with lava. “Hey. Don’t worry, I-"
“But it’s not fine!” Rarity lifted her now soaked eyes to Spike. “That gem meant so much to you, yet you gave it to me! And what have I to show for it? A forgotten design that didn’t even make it to fashion magazines!”
Spike couldn’t deny the little twinge from that last bit. But then remembered why he brought it up. “How about that? You beat me to it!” he enthused.
Rarity collapsed to the ground and threw her unworthy carcass at the dragon’s feet. “Please forgive me, Spike! I should’ve asked before so thoughtlessly… W-what?”
“I wondered when you would put that thing to use,” Spike said, offering Rarity a sad, but fond smile. “What better way than to accessorize it?”
Rarity sniffed, staring up at Spike like a lost puppy. “You mean… you’re not angry with me?” she asked.
Spike’s smile dropped. “Well I’d be a little upset if you left it on some dusty old table.” Not even a second later, his smile returned. “But ya didn’t. So I’m not.”
“But… B-But I-… You… You aged it for months, Spike.” Rarity broke her gaze, shaking like a leaf.
Spike took another daring step, and lifted Rarity’s chin with a gentle claw. “And it would’ve been dee-licious,” he replied happily.
A slight pause. A shimmer of hope. A rekindled smile. And finally a crushing embrace from a unicorn oh so humbled. “You are just… just wonderful!” Rarity said with a smile so wide, it may have actually hurt.
“Well, I’m not one to argue,” he said with a stroke of his green spikes.
Rarity pulled away, her grip firm upon Spike’s shoulders. “You simply must allow me to make it up to you!” she said.
Spike sighed fondly with rolling eyes. “Rarity, I thought we’d just talked about this,” he replied.
“Oh, but I feel simply dreadful, Spike!” she sounded desperate. “Please grant me this? I’ll do anything at all. Just name it!”
Spike gave another thoughtful pause, the taps on his chin matching every tick of the Grandfather clock next to them. “Well, I don’t know,” he said.
“Please??”
“It just doesn’t seem right. Ya know?” Spike said, trying in vain to shrug off Rarity’s tightening grip.
“Don’t do this, Spike! Please don’t make me beg!” Rarity… well, begged.
Spike considered both the consequences and humor of that. Then he smiled again, a gesture that became more and more mechanical. “Well. There is one thing I have in mind.”
If it wasn’t broad daylight, the radiance in those big blue eyes may have actually blinded Spike. “Anything! Tell me!” Rarity’s face drew closer. Too close? Hardly.
“Spend the day with me,” Spike half suggested, half commanded.
All was going according to plan. And as Rarity’s eyes flickered toward her unfinished outfit, Spike believed it would stay that way. “Today? A-As in ‘all day’ today?” Rarity asked.
“D’aww, you’re right. What was I thinking? There’s no time for that, what with all your projects, and having a tight business to run.” Spike turned to the door, ignoring the now disgruntled mare. “I’ll just get out of your mane-“
“No, wait!” Rarity shouted after him. Then her face, now a little red, softened. “I-I mean… Ahem. There’s always time for work, darling.”
Spike turned ever so slightly toward Rarity. “So the verdict is?” As Rarity nodded uncertainly, Spike’s smile grew. “Then meet me at the Marketplace in one hour.”
With a clipped bow, Spike left Carousel Boutique behind him, blissfully unaware of the eyes that followed.
**********
Spike had always prided himself for his patience. Whether it was enduring Twilight’s lectures, or checking his appetite when making a jewel cake, Spike had earned himself much credit in that respect. That’s what he thought, anyway. So it came as quite a surprise, and none too pleasant, that Rarity hadn’t said more than five words the entire day.
And worse, that it bothered him. A lot.
The plan was failing. Spike could feel it with the ache in his gut. With every gaze broken off the second he turned to Rarity, Spike gravely reconsidered his method of blackmail. Harmless it may have been.
He would feign ignorance, though. It was all Spike could do to resist the jaw-grinding urge to question Rarity’s silence with bulgy eyes and lifted arms.
Instead, he’d kept his confident smile, often the one to start any conversation. Any tasteless, unimportant, long-drawn, mostly-one-sided conversation. Eventually, Spike simply stopped trying. And when the pair arrived at Golden Oaks Library, both weighed with groceries, Rarity finally delivered her reprieve.
“Are you happy, Spike?”
Spike turned to Rarity, unsure whether to laugh, or cry because she spoke. And he’d almost made the grave mistake of considering her question. Almost. “Wow… She speaks,” Spike teased with that smile of his.
Rarity hid a frazzled grin behind her hoof. “Oh, dear. Forgive me if I haven’t been very talkative lately,” she said.
Spike set the groceries on the kitchen counter, turned to Rarity, opened his mouth, thought better of it, and fell silent.
“Doesn’t it get lonely here, Spike?” Rarity asked, shivering a little. “It’s been months since Twilight came to visit.”
Just knowing what Rarity was getting at, faded Spike’s smile. And worse, he knew she had seen it. Rarity levitated her saddlebag of groceries aside and approached him, careful and hesitant. It would be so easy. Spike knew that. Dropping his façade right there. Spilling his guts with shameless tears.
It would be so very easy. And perhaps he would have. Perhaps Spike would have told Rarity how most nights were cold any lonely without a unicorn to greet him every morning. Perhaps Spike would have told Rarity how unhappy he was.
Perhaps he’d even tell her how she could fix all that. But to utter even a syllable of that would be unforgivably stupid.
Spike’s smile whittled a bit more, and that penetrating confidence faded ever so lightly. “That may be true. But I have you and the others, at least,” he said.
It was a pitiful answer. Spike knew that as well. But when Rarity’s eyes shimmered with wetness, he started to doubt that. “Spike, I… I think I owe you an apology,” Rarity said, now unable to meet his gaze.
“For what, Rarity?”
Spike had hoped he sounded genuine enough for Rarity to, at least, look at him. But when she did, her eyes hit the floor again. “Well, just look at you, Spike. Look how far you’ve come.”
Rarity turned away, walking amidst the library as though it were the first time, admiring the pains it must’ve taken for its welcoming glow. Ever the gracious host, Spike followed her, still lost on her apology.
“Picking up were Twilight left off. Making bread by your lonesome. Advertising ‘healthy reading’? Successfully? You’ve grown, Spike. Truly you have.”
Spike furrowed his brow, mulling over Rarity’s meaning. But just as he opened his mouth to ask, Rarity stopped in her tracks. And Spike winced with a sucking breath when she turned to him. He hadn’t expected it. He didn’t want to see such a beautiful face soaked with tears.
“And we knew you’d done it all alone,” Rarity said, her throat shivering with every word. “We all knew. But not one of us took any time to see you through it.”
Spike nearly slapped his claws down to keep from wringing them. “But Rarity, you-“
“No, Spike!” Rarity insisted, a lot harsher than she’d intended. “We were selfish… I was selfish, and not at all generous. I could have at least stopped by. I could have showed you that you weren’t forgotten.”
That never occurred to him. Ever. And it pulled at his heart seeing Rarity hurt herself over it. Somehow, whether he could rationalize it or not, Spike knew that it was his fault. “Please, Spike. Please answer me?” Rarity’s eyes made the room impossibly bright. Yearning. Pleading. “Are you happy?”
Spike could see. So very clearly. He could see how it stabbed at Rarity’s soul to keep eye contact. He could see that one wrong move, one wrong word, would scare her away. That knowledge gave him power. And quite a lot of it.
He stared into those blinding cerulean eyes. So long, in fact, that Rarity finally had to break away, holding her sobs behind shaky breath.
A gentle claw angled her chin straight. And Spike wouldn’t let her look away. “If anypony else asked me that, saying ‘yes’ would be a lie,” Spike’s grip tightened around the now trembling chin. “But right here? Right now? The opposite is true.”
Spike heard the breath hitch in Rarity’s throat. And as her face plunged into a rather shameful hue of red, Spike could not erase his smile. Rarity pulled away, grinning at the floor, trying obviously hard to compose herself.
“Well, I’d say I’m getting pretty good at that. No?” Spike teased with waggling eyebrows.
“S-Shut up…” Rarity mumbled, drying her eyes.
Spike turned toward the front window, and his smile wobbled at the dusky orange sky. “Huh. It’s getting late.”
Rarity nodded, and Spike hiked a brow at her expression. He wasn’t certain, but if he had to guess, Rarity looked… disappointed. “Then, I suppose I should be on my way,” she said.
With pleasantries exchanged in full, Rarity turned away from Spike, sauntering from the library with a light smile. Only when she realized she wasn’t alone, did that smile fall. Just a little, though. “Spike? What are you-“
“Well, what kind of host would I be if I didn’t walk you home?” Spike replied.
It was strange, really. Normally, a walk from the library to Carousel Boutique sailed quickly. But as the sun retreated behind the mountains, as the sky bathed in the last remnants of day, as a young mare and a young dragon savored every step in companionable silence, none of it didn’t matter. Not in the least.
The goal was reached, and as Rarity pushed the door open, she found herself stuck before the doorstep. And so did Spike. There they remained, deep blue peering into emerald-green. Stuck where they stood. Uncertain. Unsatisfied.
“Spike?” Rarity stepped into her home, deliberate and silent. She turned to him. “Would… Would you like to come in?”
It would have been so easy.
Spike now knew it more than ever. Every lesson he’d learned. Every tactic he’d mastered. Every rule he’d studied. In that moment, Spike knew, if he’d cast it all aside like yesterday’s paper, none of it would matter. None of it would come back to haunt him. None of it would wake him the next morn filled with regret.
But as he stared back at Rarity, her eyes pleading, no, demanding, his answer, Spike reasoned with something else entirely.
Something new. Maybe even a little stupid.
He stepped forward, eyes locked on the prize below Rarity’s eyes. His breath seized, pulse quick and deafening. And before the voices screaming in his head could bring him to his senses, Spike’s lips were already occupied. It was quick. Downright swift, even. And when he pulled away, he savored Rarity’s eyes, as wide and vast as a mountain range.
It suited her, Spike thought.
“Can't. Left the eggs on the counter.”
Then he was walking, again, leaving Carousel Boutique behind him. And, again, blissfully unaware of the eyes that followed…
Or maybe he wasn’t.
**********
EPILOUGE
**********
Spike woke the next morning with a new love for sunny days.
He turned his head, appalled that the sun’s golden glow was tattered by the curtains. He hopped from the bed he’d come to call his own, and swished the curtains open. The warmth coating him. The life filling him. Inspiring him. It was going to be a wonderful day.
Spike blazed through his morning routine, his mind permeating that very thought. When he returned to his room, licking the smooth glaze of toothpaste from his teeth, Spike stopped when something caught his eye.
Something he’d kept on his nightstand for… well, for a length of time he wasn’t proud of. Something familiar. Something utterly and completely absurd. He took it into his claws, running his thumbs over its crinkly red surface with a tired look.
Then he read the words printed on it. Those ridiculously exaggerated, attention-grabbing words. “’The key is ‘Confidence’! Iron Will can help!’”
Spike sighed long and low. He didn’t know why. Honestly, he never knew why. Not when this garish advertisement ruined the sanctity of his mailbox. Not when it was the first thing he saw every morning. Not when he’d spend days behind closed curtains, wondering why he ever kept the damn thing.
And not now. Spike could never know why. But this time?
This time, as tearing paper echoed into his room? This time, as he flung his arms up, and saw those little red scraps flutter to the ground. He couldn’t care any less.
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I think I know what this story needs.
Seriously, wonderful. Spike's veneer of confidence was joy to behold. And it honestly wouldn't surprise me if the others unintentionally left Spike to his own devices. They all have lives and sometimes friends forget and drift.
The monocle makes him look like a pimp.
You, good sir, are a genius.
Well fucking done.
~Skeeter The Lurker
Spike, Ponyville's resident Swagon.
I thought this was going to be about a Dj or something, but I was happy surprised. Fantastic job, love it to the max
Nice, Spike finally manned up! - er, dragon'd up!
also
>>“Those ‘dusty old books’ keep a roof over my head. Of course, Twilight already used that one, so I got nothin’,”
i dun get it.
Show her, Spike!
That's right Spike, be that strong willed dragon that no mare will look down on.
Finally, a story to renew my faith in Sparity. Thankyou, I desperately needed this.
awesome !!!!!!!!!!!!!
I don't think love is really worth it if one partner (and only one) is required to master such skills and tactics while constantly maintaining a solid veneer of smooth confidence. Are there really that many wrong turns and pitfalls? At what point will he be allowed to drop the facade and let her love him with all his flaws and shortcomings?
But here's the only question that really matters: when does this show up in the feature box?
okay i like this story but i'm a little confused of spike and his interal conflict what exactly is it? cant really tell here
I'm not sure how much I enjoy Spike manipulating Rarity like that. But your aged-up Spike is convincing in his thought processes. You could tell he was trying his best to play it cool the whole time. The way the facade and the truth came together just for a moment at the climax worked perfectly.
Overall, it's a well written story and deserves a lot of praise.
So...sometimes when you read stories you come upon this tiny little one-shot which is so fucking brilliant that you can't stop thinking of it for days. It seems that this story will fall in this category.
Usually Spike gets a broken heart for all his troubles with Rarity. Usually all his efforts are in vain and she likes any other stallion. Not so in this fic. She actually seemed interested in Spike from the get go.
Personally though, I hate it when characters need to feign being someone else to get the girl/mare they want. In this story though - if there is ever a continuation of it - it seems more like Spike opening up to Rarity after getting her to notice him finally.
Each of Spikes actions was planned in advance, right? So how would a 'second date' go? Did he plan that too? Would Fluttershy notice Iron Wills teachings in Spike?
Regrettably this is the end of my comment. Though if you look at it a bit more closely, you will notice a little thing I added just for this comment. Because, you know, just the best for the best, right?
Holy f**kin' s**t! OOLPWOWWIRHFJB!
This is insane! I wake up late, thinking I won't make it to work on time. I'm hustlin' on the job thinkin' to myself, 'God dammit I wish I knew how my new oneshot panned out...' I come back after a backbreaking day, and see all this?!?! Thank you. Just... THANK YOU! All of you, for your praise!
I read this whilst listeing to my own playback of a cover... and it seemed to flow perfectly...
2508783
Heh! As it turns out, I was listening to 'The Man' from Guilty Gear, while writing it.
2508882 haha awesomes man XD
Well... damn. Just, damn. One hell of an interesting story here.
There needs to be one more chapter of this, it's brilliant.
Woahh....
Confidence IS the key!
I need to learn how to do that!
2504730 Everytime I hear the phrase "dragon up", I just think of American Dragon.
Wow, this is brilliant
I am actually blown away by how you managed to pull off this adult Spike's thought processes. I especially like how Spike maintains a cool swag on the outside while he carefully plans ahead on the inside.
The climax was genius, too, with the truth and the facade come together for a brief moment. Very well-done.
Have a moustache, you magnificent bastard
2690402
I'll take the mustache in stride... Because I'm cool like that...
This was a very good piece, one that had an even, measured cadence. It didn't try to be more than it was, and instead was happy at succeeding marvelously at a simple premise. It deserves more attention than it has gotten, especially from Sparity fans.
3074936 I'm beyond flattered that an accomplished author as you thinks highly of this... well, it's something that's for sure.
Believe or not, this little gif was three different things before. During my three month improvement crusade half a year ago, it went from a multi-chapter harem fic, to a multi-chapter Spike-Vinyl fic, to this. Just said, 'You know what? F**k this...'
And bam! Here we are.
Oh yeah... Good times.
Craine...
What a manipulative little bastard. But a very well written story. Though I can't help but wonder if Rarity would not have encountered stallions having read that particular kind of loathsome self-help books before… Still, considering the number of times my darling Rarity has twirled others round her hoof, a bit of redress and balance is acceptable.
lovely
I am sorry, but I did not get any of what is happening in this story.
BOUT GODDAMN TIME
AND APPROPRIATE GIF
images.wikia.com/villains/images/a/aa/50439_-_animated_dancing_gif_spike.gif
This was very good, but I don't really see why Spike ripped it up. I thought the implication was that he chose to pursue a long-term relationship with Rarity, but the only way the epilogue makes sense is if he decides to pass on Rarity all together, which is a possibility, though I don't see it hinted at. I wish the epilogue and ending gelled together a bit more. It's not like they're a contradiction, and I can see that Spike has definitely grown somehow, but since we're missing Spike's inner dialogue only at this single point in the fic when we had heard it all along, it's frustrating to be left a little clueless.
I don't get it, but then there are a lot of things I don't get... Like Will Ferrell movies.
I completely fail to understand how any of his thought processes held any relation to his actions... or confidence (except in the broadest sense of bring able to speak). The only thing I was left with at the end was a sense that you were hiding something behind the language of the story... but then again, I still don't get Will Ferrell movies.
3092397 Possibly you haven't read enough pick-up artist material to understand that he's generally acting in opposition to his feelings?
This is very good, but the final scene conflicts with the rest of the story. The entire story shows pickup artist tricks working. The final scene shows him rejecting Iron Will's pickup-artist-like advice. Which is it?
3167398 Neither.
The entire theme behind this was 'confidence'; in mannerism, speech, and charisma. To be honest, the pickup artist thing (believe me, I caught this while I was editing) was just a product of that. Ultimately, it provided the driving force for Spike's veneer. And his goal.
The ending scene was to show the readers that he didn't need Iron Will's teachings any longer. Simultaneously, it foreshadows a plethora of pitfalls and obstacles for the little bastard.
Still constructing the outline for a possible update. And I will (if updated) bring those issue to life. Because I'm a good person... *ahem*
3167600 If it's in the middle of the story, and he does still need Iron Will's teachings, that's entirely different. It probably means you're a social deviant and a cruel bastard to your characters, like me.
3167612
I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
3167398
Possibly, but that doesn't quite sound right.
The structural presentation was(is?) so muddled in... maybe not recursive, but at the least confusing sentences that it failed (at least for me) to have any real meaning. Everytime something happened Spike would have some thoughts about it before and after, and as many times as not they didn't seem to have any relation to the actions. I don't make a habit of reading stream of consciousness, so perhaps that is where the disconnect comes from. But if that is the case, doesn't that make it poor story telling? It is okay to leave the readers confused for much of the story, but by the end it needs to have some form of resolution. This did not. The journey is more important than the destination, but there must still be a destination. It meandered along until the end and... nothing. We aren't even left with a satisfying question to ponder in the absences of a resolution.
Or perhaps I completely missed it... I still don't understand Will Ferrel after all.
3167635 Huh. Not exactly sure what meaning you were searching for. I thought the message was quite clear (for entertainment value, at least) Originally, I hadn't planned to make this a multi-chaptered cluster fuck of issues with a life-changing perspective. Not until much later.
It was really a 'what if' scenario: Spike grows a pair, and I play with that idea. I tried to make as simple and entertaining as I could, but hey, different strokes and all that.
Hmmm, what to say? It is a good story, very well written, very original, and delves into interesting views on characters that make sense but are rarely explored.
And to spite all that, I really didn't care for it. Spike and Rarity both seemed far too manipulative, and I guess that just grates against the way I look at them. However, I know the difference between a GOOD story and a story I like. Just because I did not enjoy the way the story went does not detract from the fact that it was a very good story.
If nothing else, you went out on a limb and tried something different, without destroying the characters. Their actions were close enough to themselves, and justified enough to be believable. That's a win, and worth a thumbs up in my book.
It takes talent to make me finish reading AND acknowledge the good qualities of a story I don't like, so I'd better keep an eye out for other stories by you!
-Lumino
3239929 I'm humbled! Thank you for your words. I'll be honest with you, though; this is probably the only oneshot I have (to date) that feels COMPLETE. The work I have after 'Thrive' I plan to have the same quality as this. If not better. Thanks again for reading and reviewing.
Craine...
Well, I've never been a fan of romance nor shipping, and I think that Rarity's actions felt kinda forced to me... But... Everything about Spike, his inner thoughts, the confidence thing, and the story overall, was simply splendid! I really liked it, and the ending was awesome. Good story.
3275925 Hehe! Tanks of thanks to you.
I find myself feeling torn. On the one hand, this is exceptionally well written and good fun. It feels very natural and flows really well.
That said I really found myself disliking Spike in this. It feels less like his success is due to confidence and more that it's due to manipulation and that really bothered me. Especially the idea that Rarity completely falls for it.
It leaves me conflicted as to what thumb I should give it. Up because it's an excellent fic and deserves praise? Or down, for making Spike feel almost slimy in spots.
I confess I've gone with up, just because this isn' my cup of tea doesn't mean you deserve a dislike. I can appreciate how good this fic is and how much work has gone into it too much to allow my slight feelings of dislike to want to hurt it.
3304356 As proven with every comment this fic receives, 'The Turntablist' remains my most impacting thus far. To be honest, I didn't expect Spike to stir so many mixed feelings among the readers. And, really, I wouldn't have it any other way, as this was one of my better, thought-out pieces.
I tried to completely break the pathetic dragon-child-whelp-thing and mold it into... well, this. But I as I wrote my first draft, I realized without the introverted narration on Spike's part, he'd be ENTIRELY out of character. I had to make him doubt. I had to through a wrench in his plans, but still wanted him to come out on top.
As for Rarity? I always saw Rarity as the vulnerable type. You know, refined, tactful, and charming on the outside, but really insecure. Without 'telling' any of that, I'd like to think I pulled it off.
Good to know my skill for character depiction hasn't weakened. Thank you for your comment, fave, and watch, Ferret.
Craine...
PS: if you like RariJack, there's a lengthy oneshot boiling as we speak. Somehow or another, I WILL surpass 'The Turntablist'.
This is definitely rather good. My only nitpick is that I'd expect Spike to have at least picked up some knowledge about fashion by this point.
Like, fav and added to my recommendation group.
I would imagine that ice in the veins would make it very easy to stay cool.