The Question
Bulk ‘Snowflake’ Biceps looked down at his niece. Tears were tracing dark lines down the soft orange coat of the filly’s face. Scootaloo wept silently, her watery gaze never wavering from his own. She waited for a response to her question; seemingly unaware of the dampness of her cheeks, the droplets streaming from her unblinking eyes, or the slowly darkening skies of the twilight which was presently overtaking the park where they stood.
Bulk’s heart seized up in his powerful chest at the sight before him. He wanted to look away, to change the subject, to find a distraction for her young eyes. But he couldn’t. Her sorrowful yet determined stare had bound him in a way that made his incredible physique utterly useless. He wasn’t prepared for this. He didn’t even know the answer to the question himself. Not the real question anyway.
He had always prided himself on being the ‘fun’ uncle. Though his strict training regimen allowed for little time to spend with family, and none for friends, he had always made sure to put aside a little time for the young filly every week. There was something profoundly honest about engaging in simple play. Stress, responsibility, expectation: these things had no place in the phantasmal world of a child’s imagination. It was because of the unconditional nature of their relationship that Scootaloo developed the trust in Bulk that she had. This trust meant that, on occasion, his niece interrupted their frivolous adventures to open up about her worries and fears. Bulk was nowhere near as comfortable with this aspect of their friendship, but he recognised the need of the tough little pegasus to be vulnerable to someone who would not judge. He always did his best to listen and offer whatever sagely wisdom he could scrape out of his own, admittedly fixated, life. Fighting with her friends, failed attempts at finding her special talent, persistent and debilitating nightmares, he would relive all those uncomfortable discussions in succession if it would allow him to avoid this one altogether. Unable to look away from the resolute filly, he knew he would not be able to escape.
“I need to know, Uncle Snowflake. Do you think I will be able to fly one day?” Her bottom lip trembled unashamedly as she repeated her question. Not in impatience. It sounded like a reminder, some gentle encouragement.
He marvelled at his niece. How long had this question burned inside her? It must have started years ago, when all her winged friends had begun to take flight. She had never said anything on the subject. Not once had she looked upon her peers with even a shadow of envy touching her expression. She plastered posters of her airborne heroes on every exposed surface of her room. His heart ached imagining the question eating its way through her self-worth as she put brave foot after brave foot forward. Now here she stood, finally doubting herself strong enough to expose the hole in her impenetrable armour, and instead of becoming hurt or angry at his hesitation, she was trying to help him find the strength to answer. She may have looked up to a certain cyan trick flyer as her hero, but there was no doubt that Scootaloo was his.
He felt tears stinging his own eyes as he tried to summon his courage. He usually tried to make his advice in these situations as simple and heartfelt as possible. This time that was impossible. Her question had no simple answer.
Underdeveloped wings. The doctors had known by the time she celebrated her second birthday. There was nothing that could be done. Some things just are. Scootaloo was young when she was told. She grew up knowing her condition only as an irrelevant fact which played no part in her daily life. That was until all her little friends had begun to take off. The standard medical opinion was that flight would not be possible for her. Bulk knew better.
It was plain to any observer that passed by; Bulk suffered from the same disability. His wings looked like they were placed on his back as a comedic afterthought. He had been told of his condition when he was around the same age Scootaloo had been. He had realised that he would always be different from his friends and family when he was around the same age that Scootaloo was now.
She reminded him in so many ways of the colt he once was, fearless and unassailable. He remembered his moment of crisis when he was rejected from junior flight camp because he couldn’t even lift off the ground. He could remember the anger and desperation filling his soul. No one could tell him that he would never fly, not his friends, not the flight instructors, not the doctors, not even destiny itself. He had refused to take it laying down. Years later, here he was. He did it. He could fly. He had attended the Wonderbolt academy. He was scheduled to compete in the Equestria Games qualifier along with Rainbow Dash, the greatest flyer of all time, not to mention his niece’s personal idol. He wanted with all his heart to reassure the orange filly. To ruffle her pink mane playfully and tell her of course it was possible. Look at him; he proved it.
But the words died on his lips.
He looked down at the little pony as she was wracked by quiet sobs, her unblinking eyes pleading with him. He remembered the stories of the exploits she shared with her friends, the Cutie Mark Crusaders. He remembered how she went on and on about her amazing teacher, Miss. Cheerilee, and how proud she was to be one of her favourites. He thought about the short yet treasured times that he had spent with the filly, delighting in her spunky outlook on life and boundless enthusiasm. He wanted to tell her that she will fly someday. He wanted to see the hopeful smile on her face.
But there was a cost.
On the day Bulk decided to spit in the face of those who doubted him, he made a commitment. From that day forth, he spent every spare moment training his body. Slowly but surely, his muscles became large and powerful.
It hadn’t been enough.
He lost touch with his friends quickly, their time together replaced by his training regime. By the end of the next school year he was easily the biggest colt in Ponyville, rivalling most fully grown stallions in size.
It hadn’t been enough.
He dropped out of school a short time after. The additional time he could spend at the gym had shown immediate results. His workouts, combined with his reaching adulthood, caused his size to balloon to immense proportions. He was the largest pony anyone had ever seen. His strength dwarfed even that of his earth pony peers.
It hadn’t been enough.
He took on a job as a personal trainer to pay the bills. It was an ideal solution; it allowed him to earn money without impacting his workout schedule. His family was pleased that he was finally perusing his destiny, pointing to the dumbbell cutie mark that had appeared shortly after beginning his training. They didn’t understand. Destiny was his enemy. Destiny wanted him to remain on the ground, helping others do their squat thrusts. Destiny was a cruel necessity. Bulk was running away from destiny as fast as he could.
His new occupation left him without even the small amount of free time he had before. He stopped visiting family. That had been years ago. They had since stopped checking in on him. He didn’t remember the last time he had sat down with any of them; much less had a proper visit. He had been away from Ponyville for months, doing high altitude training in the mountains when his sister died. She and her husband had been on the weather team. There was an accident while they were attempting to stop an errant tornado that was bearing down on the town. Their foal was placed in the care of the Ponyville orphanage. Bulk decided to spare a little time for his niece every week. He took the time from his scheduled sleep cycle.
Over the years, his size and strength grew beyond the known limits of pony physiology. He still remembered the day he took off. Every hulking muscle in his enormous frame had been straining; his breath coming in short, painful gasps. All his gargantuan strength was being directed to his underdeveloped wings. His feet lifted a foot off the ground. Two feet. Three. A full minute passed before he crashed into the dirt. Muscles torn and body exhausted, he had been confined to his bed for three days. He had made sure to make up for the missed training during his free time. Scootaloo hadn’t minded. He was noticed during one of these early flights by the Wonderbolt Spitfire. After talking about his past, she handed him the invite to the Wonderbolt academy. She told him she wished her squad had a quarter of the dedication he had. She warned him that it wouldn’t be easy, and she would be just as tough on him as the rest of the recruits. He didn’t care. He had done it. He had beat destiny. He was not a personal trainer. He was a flyer.
But there was a cost.
He had no friends. He had no real family other than Scootaloo. He wasn’t there when those he loved had been taken from him. He couldn’t even take in the one pony who still meant anything to him because his lifestyle left no time to be a father. He had no life aside from training and flying. Was he proud of all he was able to accomplish through his unflinching devotion to his dream? Of course he was. Did he have regrets? Of course he did. He had sacrificed everything to beat his destiny.
He looked at his niece. He wanted so badly to give her hope. He wanted to tell her that if she truly wants to, she can fly one day. Would she make the same decision he had? If she did, it would mean no more adventures with the Cutie Mark Crusaders. No more smiles for the favourite student. Even his infrequent time with her would begin to wither away. He had made his choice. No matter what he chose to say, she was about to make hers. He could say one word, and see a hopeful smile replace the quivering frown in an instant. He could lie. A merciful lie would save her from the life of sacrifices he had chosen. He wondered if he could bring himself to lie to her face, even to give her the life he had missed. He wondered if he could bring himself to tell the truth, knowing the road ahead of her. He wondered if he even had the right to speak of it one way or the other.
Tell the truth; see hope destroy the parts of life she treasures.
Tell a lie; see hope burn and trust that her life will grow better in its ashes.
Bulk opened his mouth to speak...
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Did you not see the new episode? I'm pretty sure the show said something about him being named Bulk Biceps. It was just a little, teeny-tiny reference. You probably missed it like me. I had to go online and find where they mentioned it, and even then I almost missed it.
On a more serious note, Slendermane really was in that Pinkie/Applejack incestuous shipping episode.
3830678
Why hello sir!
I humbly suggest reading the fic's you comment on. The first three words of the story establish 'Snowflake' as a nickname.
thanks for the time to comment tho
3830703
No time to read! I've got a friend telling people he's leaving, and your story's something that just happened to catch my eye as I refreshed the page!
Apologies and all anyway, though!
3830678 HE WAS. Thats awesome
3830768
Riiiiiight there next to the thumbs up
lol seriously, glad you liked it. Its my second fic, so compliments like yours mean a lot. Have a good one!
Nicely done.
Even though little to no dialogue was given in the story, you helped to flesh out Bulk in your own way and it made sense. Having him be a family member to Scootaloo was a nice touch given the wing similarities and the inner conflict he has to deal with in terms of what to tell her is a good driving point for the story. Usually I'm not a fan of stories not resolving themselves but using that trick here actually benefits it since you can leave it open for interpretation and not alienate those who favor one decision over another.
Good sophomore fic effort. Keep going.
3830789
Thanks you for your time and the compliment!
I'm glad the characters are revealing themselves so well without dialogue. I use a lot of banter for character building in my other fic Top Speed, which is more a slice of life. I was trying something out of my comfort zone here, so glad you liked it!
Thanks for the time and comment!
Gahhhh!!!!!Now I'm all teary eyed!!
Why would you write something like that?!
3830907
Apologies good sir! Have a mustache to cheer you up!
Dang...
Nicely done.
*sniff, snifffff* YEAHhhhhhh...
Man! Way to leave a reader hangin'! If ponies had thumbs, mine'd be up!
3831161
lol I hope that means you liked it.
Regardless, here a Derpy to cheer you up!
3831171
Haha thanks!
I'll take a hoof up over a thumb up any day.
......
actually, why is the like button on a pony site in the shape of a thumb anyway?
WHAT WHAT WHAT?!?!?! WHAT DID HE SAY?!?!?!?!
Whoa. Upvoted.
Way to give snowflake a backstory!
You bastard! ending a one-shot with a cliffhanger! DAMN YOU!
Upvoted
Well, that took the proverbial wind out of my sails. I liked how you left it, too. Poor guy. *Faves and upvotes*
God dang it. You certainly know how to leave a stinging cliffhanger! Excellent work.
Man that was good! I loved the backstory you setup here, and the excellent story telling. It's a hard decision to make and you did a great job showing the battle that was going on in Snowflake mind.
To be honest, I really wanted to see Snowflake as a pony to look up to, not just some stereo typical comic relief. The last episode kind of killed that for me, but this really helped bring that notion back.
What's the answer?! Tell me!
I am not sure. To pay so much and gain so little. Damn.
Also, upvote.
Amazing story. Lovin' this character development for Snowflake. All I have to say now is...
2.bp.blogspot.com/-h7Jt2Db96EE/UfITcKYaewI/AAAAAAAABwY/RsVxfM565qM/s1600/Headcanon%2BAccepted.gif
That ending was perfect, this is a work of art. If someone is upset about it they can make their own damn fic.
3831613
Thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed it!
I know what you mean about Bulk as comic relief in the last episode,
but the last episode is actually the main inspiration for this story. When we saw how much physical strain he was under when he flew, I couldn't help but think that the reason he was so beefy was because he had no other choice if he wanted to fly. That, plus the similarities with Scootaloo and them being seen together a couple episodes ago just tied it together into a neat little head cannon for me.
Also, I dont want these comments to be filled with a bunch of boring replies from me
So i just want to say thank you very much to those who enjoyed the story enough to comment. As a new writer these observations and encouragements are finer than gold and I appreciate the time you took to write them. Stay pony my friends!
3831239
3831634 To spare the author the pain of ruining his well-crafted story by revealing what Bulk said to Scootaloo, I will now take it upon myself to finish the story.
*ahem*
"P IS FOR SCOOTALOO!!"
3832137
Get out of my HEAD!!!!!!
lol
That was really good fic. TBH, I'd never thought of Bulk being Scoots uncle. But when you think of it, and while reading it... That could be cannon.
Overall, well written story, thumbs up.
Why does this need to be there? Likewise with "Featured in EQD" stuff.
3832687
That was meant more as a thank you to my viewers getting it there than as any kind of boast.
However, if it offends, consider it gone!
Dem feels.
Also @ anyone that says academy is spelled wrong, it's an archaic, but perfectly acceptable spelling.
This deserves to be in the Feature Box.
Up,up.
This was a good read. I like this story and how you ended it.
3832965 No, dude. You deserve the recognition of getting on the popular list and being featured in different places. Most every other popular story I've read has some kind of shout out to being featured and you deserve no less. Seriously, it's not often a one-shot makes me cry.
3832965 It doesn't offend me, it's just silly. Yeah, you conquered the featured list, whoopty-doo. Should you feel proud? Damn straight you should. But that is something more reserved for blog posts rather than the description of the story. Don't worry, everyone who fav'd this story will be notified of the blog post if you tag this story.
It [the quality] should speak for itself (which it did, since you got featured) in order to avoid bias.
My personal opinion, though.
As a side-note, anyone who gets offended--really offended--by your shout-out is in need of sucking a fuck.
3833868
True, most of them have. Unnecessarily so, I should add.
Good job.
Well, there's not much of a real story here, but it does make a good little vignette. You're adept at pulling the heartstrings at least.
Snowflake seems to have missed something rather vital in his breakdown though which tends to undermine the decision. Not only is the decision not simply a black or white, truth or lie situation, there are many grey areas he could, and likely would take explaining the possibilities and the drawbacks and rewards that he had found in his own life; he also seems to have missed that if Scootaloo were to follow his path and give up what she has for the chance at her greatest dream, Snowflake would become her greatest resource, netting her a parental figure at the same time because they would both be training together.
Good job for your second fic though.
I got to say that is is an underated art in fimfic to be able to end a story without a solution. There some of my favorites simply because they leave the end to the interpretation of the reader, just as you did.
*le go on Fimfiction, see the title "Ask Snowflake" *
Oh Lord, It could be a beautiful shipping commedy between Bulky and Shy. Let's read!
*characthers: Scootaloo, Snowflake *
Mmm... is it a commedy, right?
*tag: Slice of Life, Sad*
... what a...?
*le read*
Omg, it's so intense, sad and deep! Best One Shot EVER!
But the end, Jesus, the end! It's THE end. An epic and very emotional cliffhenger.
100/10 plus a manly Spike, sir
Cannon NOW ALL I HAVE TO SAY IS
31.media.tumblr.com/5197faa1e2aa9b3146d6a17b2687e18a/tumblr_mirr53vDZ71s122zwo1_500.gif
I think it's even worse than in your fic -- "Rainbow Falls" implies that "Snowflake" is losing his ability to fly. He's probably stressing his system too much by flying at all. I'd put him at serious risk of a heart attack or stroke if he were human, and equidae are if anything more vulnerable to that sort of death (they evolved to be able to run well past their healthy physiological limits because often running hard meant that something that wanted to eat them was pursuing).
I think that Fluttershy's evident kindness to Bulk in that episode is far less sexual attraction than it is being nice to someone she suspects is dying. Fluttershy has a very good grasp of physiology, she's essentially a zoologist and self-trained veterinarian. She can probably see what I'm seeing, too.
Loved this-- Definitely a deep question, and not just about the wings.
I had a teacher who was, at one time, a stockbroker. He had tons of money and was considered very successful, but he also had a destroyed marriage, ulcers, and a heart attack in his early thirties. After that, he became an economics teacher. He drove a '87 ford taurus, and wore off-the-shelf suits. Two kids, and an intact second marriage. I asked him once if it was worth it.
He told me he still wasn't sure.
I've never been sure what to make of that.
I think the correct answer is "the cost is too great" and to then explain to Scootaloo the prices he paid.
...
I'mma nick off with Snowflake's backstory now - this is the first time I've seen it bulked out, and I love it.
But saying Scoots is likely never going to be able to fly? I'm going to stick with 'late bloomer' theory, or, failing that, prosthetics, thanks.
So it's Buff "Snowflake" Biceps.
I think I know what he said:
"YEEEEAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
And I say the same to this. So eloquent, so sad. Doesn't have more than it needs. Through-and-through, very nicely done.
3840412
I would tell that she could only fly, if she sacrificied her friendship. Sure, it's harsh, but I'd give up flying if it meant losing my friends. Although I would say it in a nicer way than I just did.
A continuing thank you to all who are finding the time to read and comment!
I'm thrilled to see so many people commenting on how they think Snowflake should end the story.
As a writer I consider it the highest compliment when someone cares enough about a story to expand on it using their own imagination and experience. As always there is no right answer, not even mine.
Again, thank you all!
Wow, I love how you've given Bulk actual depth, not just some run of the mill back story. Bulk has such a deep untold life we never see, overcoming a physical disability. Now he gives his niece his own personal experience to get over her own inability to fly. So awesome!