The Haunting
Admiral Biscuit
I hadn’t expected Windflower to spot her Hearth’s Warming doll right away: she normally had such a focus on her plant that I didn’t think she saw anything else. She’d certainly stopped waiting to see if Milfoil was around before entering the living room.
Maybe her doll changed the song of my living room, and she could hear that.
Maybe I should see if I could hear the song of my living room. Just as an experiment. And see if it was different when Milfoil was present.
I had a feeling if I could hear it, it would.
She’d zoomed into the room and then halfway across she slowed and her head turned, and she saw her Hearth’s Warming doll.
If I’d seen it in isolation, I would have said that it was a crude thing, crafted at the hooves of a child, but in all honestly it looked better than mine. It was a vibrant yellow pony-shape, crafted of yarn, with a green mane and tail. She hadn’t bothered with eyes or other facial features when she’d made it.
I’d wondered when I first saw it if those were her colors, but I hadn’t asked. Maybe they were close, or maybe those were the colors of some plant she particularly liked, or maybe that was what yarn she’d had available when she made it. It felt too personal to ask the old stallion that, and I wasn’t sure it was the right question to ask Milfoil, either.
Mine was a salmon-color, since of all the choices, that was the best that Milfoil had had to offer.
And now that I was thinking about it, I wondered what would have happened if I’d insisted on a more appropriate fabric selection?
For just a moment, I had the image of an actual filly in my mind as she stretched out towards her doll, and then it was shattered as she floated effortlessly up and examined it more closely.
This was a thing she could touch. She picked it up and held it close to her muzzle, then set it back on the mantel, then she looked at our two dolls as well.
One was human and one was pony, so it can’t have been hard for her to figure out which one belonged to Milfoil and which one belonged to me. Just the same, she looked at them and then the two of us on the couch and the she looked back at them again. Finally, she made a scrunching motion with her hooves, implying that they ought to be closer together.
I could fix that. I got up and went over to the mantel and pushed all three figures close together, like a little fabric family.
Judging by her nod, she was satisfied with the arrangement.
Now that the Hearth’s Warming dolls were in what she’d deemed their proper place, she went over to her plant and started on her nightly inspection ritual, and I listened.
•••••
It was no good.
I didn’t want to be negative with Windflower in the room, so I kept my mouth shut and hoped, but I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t hear anything.
It was my fault, I was sure of that. I was trying too hard, or not hard enough.
I was sure that Milfoil knew, too, and I felt bad for her. She was hoping, and I was just a dumb human who was deaf to the sounds of earth pony magic, and that was that. There was nothing that could be done to change it; it would come in due time or it wouldn’t. It was possible that I’d already gone further than any human had thus far, and if that was actually the case, I ought to feel like I’d accomplished something, but ‘you did your best’ didn’t seem good enough.
I shoved those thoughts as far down in my psyche as I could. It wouldn’t be fair to Windflower or to Milfoil to be anything but the person Mr. Rogers thought I could be.
Even if I couldn’t hear her, I could watch her and that was good enough. It was like a Norman Rockwell painting—there was frost around the windows, Christmas decorations everywhere, a cheery fire, enough plants to stock a nursery, and an interspecies couple sitting on the couch while a ghost-filly played with her plant.
•••••
When Windflower got done with her plant, she went back over to the mantel and looked at the Hearth’s Warming dolls again, then she came back to the couch and tapped the book.
Who was she doing it for? Did she really care who the stranger on the train was, or was that just for me?
Did it matter?
I picked up the book and opened it to where we’d left off. She glided up on the couch between me and Milfoil.
•••••
“I’m nervous about meeting your family.” It sounded silly to say it out loud, but I needed to. “I . . . I’m worried they won’t accept me.”
Milfoil nuzzled my chin. “They will.”
How did I explain the difficulties of an interracial relationship, to say nothing of an interspecies? Ponies might not have such hang-ups, but humans often did.
Civilized people had a different way of disapproving than uncivilized people. And as much as it pained me to admit it, the uncivilized response was more honest.
“Your dad isn’t going to go after me with a shotgun?”
“A shotgun?”
Ponies were innocent, I had to remember that. They didn’t have guns. Of course, with their magic, they didn’t need guns.
“He’s not going to resort to violence?”
“Of course not. Don’t be silly.”
“Your brothers and sisters, they aren’t going to take every opportunity to cut me down?”
“I’ve only got one brother, and two sisters,” she said. “And they won’t. Really, Steve, you’re worrying over nothing. They’ll be happy that I’m happy, and that’s all there is to it.”
“What about subtle hints about having a kid?”
“A kid?”
I should have thought that through before I spoke. “A child. A foal.”
Her eyes sparkled in the darklight of the bedroom. “Is that what you want?”
There was a time when a man realized that he’d just walked right into a minefield and that it was too late to get out again.
I didn’t have the biological urge that a woman felt to produce offspring, at least I didn’t think that I did. But was that just a comforting lie that I told myself? I was the one who’d said it.
If I skinned all the biological impossibility off it, was that the secret that lay in my heart of hearts?
I couldn’t answer, but I couldn’t not answer, either. “Windflower is sort of like a kid.”
“Yeah.” Was it just my imagination, or was there sadness in her voice. “Poor thing.”
Back on Earth, there were myths about people doomed to such fates. Mostly Greek.
How did a person deal with a child that wasn’t normal? It boggled my mind; what little thought I’d ever had on the subject had only considered a normal son or daughter, although I knew that sometimes that wasn’t what you got. Was it an emotional thing or a biological thing, or was it something that I’d only understand if it happened to me?
Had it already happened to me?
I was reading a book to a filly who was dead.
I’d changed around my schedule for a filly who was dead.
I’d fallen in love with Milfoil because of a filly who was dead.
Human experience only went so far, and I was hopelessly, irrecoverably beyond that point. I could look back and coldly analyze every decision that had lead up to the present, but did it matter? It was what it was, and if I had the opportunity to change it, I wouldn’t have.
“Sometimes there are perfect moments, the kind of moment where everything is right,” I said. “I might not have pony magic, but I know this. And I think we’re in one of those moments.”
“Yes.” She had a distant look in her eyes.
“We could have been anything, and here we are. It wasn’t what I was expecting. It wasn’t what I could ever have imagined.”
“Nor I.”
“But it feels right. It feels like we’re where we belong.” I ran a finger over the back of her ear. “Like we’re doing the right thing.” I sighed. I’d been the one to broach the topic, so I might as well continue. “Could we have a child together? Is there some kind of pony magic that would allow that? Because it wouldn’t work on Earth.”
“There might be spells,” Milfoil said. “Or else we could adopt. We have plenty of time to think about that.”
“We . . . we kind of already have, haven’t we?”
“You did.” She poked my nose lightly with a hoof.
“You helped.” I booped her back. “Do you think I’d be a good father?”
“I think you already are.”
The ghost demands you two kissu kissu
I see what you snuck in there! Yup! Right there. And now we all get to critique your choice, because you just opened the box. Before, it could have been anything, or everything, and we were pleased as punch to postulate. But now you've solved Schrödinger's Paradox and the wonder is gone. Banal reality asserts itself and we're left with... that.
At least we'll always have Windflower.
DON'T YOU GODDAMNED TAKE THAT AWAY FROM US TOO!
“Do you think I’d be a good father?”
“I think you already are.”
HNNNNNNNNG MY HEART
Plot twist for the next chapter!
It was Windflower that said he's already a good dad.
At least that's my hope.
Aw shit. We finally got it!
Story of my life...
Also dat ending of the chapter. Holy fuck is this getting deep... yes, you're both adorable enough to be parents of a horse ghost.
Nothing like a dead kid shipping her adoptive parents together.
And the worst part is they can't really lock the door since she'd float right through it...
Its the happy haunting holiday household.
Still wondering if they can use cutting etc from the plant Windflower interacts with to attach to other things so she can use them as ability assist handholds?
Little sweet gestures like bringing the dolls together...as he says, perfect moments.
He'll learn eventually, I'm sure of it.
Was that a conclusion?
It felt like a conclusion.
Yup you have a
catfilly nowI was trying to hard - I was trying too hard
This was a heartwarming little chapter.
*Instinctively dives out of the way before lethal damage could be struck*
!!!! That's it! It's the last straw! At first I thought your casual flinging about of feels was merely reckless endangerment, but now its undeniably attempted murder! You've shown your hand, villain! What have you to say for yourself, trying to kill us all with your diabetes-infused wordmagics?!
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And it's the most boring, normal ass name name ever.
Don't worry Steve, you don't need to compare your success as a father. You got an adopted ghost filly, that's probably proof enough...
Hey now, you're only as dead as you feel, and she seems to be feeling pretty lively.
9462191
I'm pretty sure there was a hallmark movie about that. It sounds like their kind of shtick.
I wasn't expecting to actually get his name, and when it showed up out of nowhere, I certainly wasn't expecting it to be THAT.
9462371
Hey! I resemble that remark!
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I'm waiting for the moment that Windflower, as a member of a society that has very little nudity shame, and if going by Biscuit's other stories, has comparatively close interpersonal interactions, waltzes right through the bathroom door in an attempt to introduce her ducky to her new dad. Because he's going to have a hell of a time trying to explain away his reactions when all she wants to do is play Ducky Bathtime Adventures with him like any good pony dad would.
Well Steve despite a few silly mistakes I do think you're wonderful. And even if Windflower must find her true rest I'm sure that you and Milfoil would still be great parents.
Welp... I went into this expecting a sitcom starring a in-over-his-head human and his Casper-like roommate, but I ended up getting an interspecies couple raising a special needs child. Unexpected, yet not unwelcomed.
9462173
What's wrong with Steve? Were you expecting Algernon?
It's not a bad name...
i.postimg.cc/BnqGB5cS/DE59-C8-EA-4-B5-E-4-E29-8-B32-58-CBD3-E82-B83.jpg hosted on PostImages
(From Sluggy Freelance)
Just caught up on the story and I have to admit my first thought when they started talking about having a kid was Twilight's spell used in it ain't easy being breezies. Sure the duration is only temporary (though given the travel times it might last several hours maybe even a day or so) but it can apparently turn the subject into anything there's a matrix for so he could be a stallion long enough for them to give Windflower a younger sibling.
I like the fact he didn't even think about including her doll that she could touch in the scrunch the fammily together moment. Still wondering how this is going to end too. I know its probably not going this way but his magic bringing her back to life just wont get out of the back of my head.
D'awwwww.
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Urk!
is killed in the crossfire
Finaly... We have a name.
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walks up to the body, pokes it with a stick
Well. He's certainly dead
I can fix that!
pulls out Necronomicon
>Initiating Necromantic subroutines
Eldritch energy pours into the corpse, reanimating and revitalizing the decaying lump of flesh
...and now for something completely different...
Now I want to see Norman Rockwell's take on that specific scene.
In any case, truly beautiful chapter. Though that name doesn't exactly contribute to a cute pairing name. Milsteve? Stevefoil? Blech.
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Agreed. I was not prepared for Steve to invoke the Ultimate Champion of Ultimate Destiny.
9463388 Ya! Don't diss Steve! He has social phobias!
9462173 And then Windflower died...
(Can ghosts die?)
Of course they can! Didn't you ever watch "Bleach" or "Yu-Yu-Hakusho"?!
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9462173
Yes, he has a boring human name. It’s exotic to ponies, though.
Um . . . well, this could turn out to be awkward. . . .
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Milfoil’s not wrong. I mean, he’s kind of an idiot sometimes, but he means well.
9462183
Like, she told Milfoil one of the times that he was in the kitchen or otherwise occupied, and at first it was a secret between just the two of them but finally Milfoil said it out loud?
It probably didn’t happen like that--Milfoil probably figured it out on her own--but it could have.
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As one of my friends once said, “At what point did you realize how deep the hole you’re in is, and that you ought to stop digging?”
They really are the best possible parents of a horse ghost. No question.
9462191
Wisdom from beyond the grave. That sounds like Fate, and you can’t fight Fate.
That’s very much a potential drawback to having a curious ghost filly in the house.
9462192
Ooh, theoretically if the plant is big enough and healthy enough that they can take parts off it for that purpose, probably. Just like the idea somebody floated a few chapters back about her wrapping herself in her blanket and thereby becoming tangible enough to hug--it might work. But stealing parts of the plant to interact with the world seems ultimately self-defeating, like the Giving Tree or that fic where Twilight plucks Owlowlicious bald for his quills.
9462202
Whack him upside the head with a 2x4 enough times, and he catches on.
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Yes and no.
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It’s essentially the same principle.
9462267
Correction made; thank you!
9462369
To pull from an episode of Mister Roger’s Neighborhood:
“Do you like to draw with crayons?
“I’m not very good at it.
“But it doesn’t matter.
“It’s the fun of doing it that’s important.
“Now, I wouldn’t have made that if I’d just thought about it.
“No matter how anybody says it is,
“It feels good to have made something.
“The best thing is that each person’s would be different.
“In a way, you’ve already won in this world.
“Because you’re the only one who can be you.
“And that’s the way it’s supposed to be.”
Also, he hasn’t invoked the Trinity yet: Mr. Rogers, Bob Ross, and Steve Irwin.
funsubstance.com/uploads/original/487/487748.jpg
9462371
Of course it is--what were you expecting? Lord Buckethead?
9462479
Agreed. There are people who talk about doing, and then there are those who are doing, and he’s in the latter category. It’s not what he expected, but he’s doing his best.
9462575
This is a good point.
9462586
9462855
I’m not saying that that will happen, but I’m not saying that it won’t, either. You’re right of course that the pony attitude towards nudity and privacy is much different than our own, and it would be difficult if not impossible to explain to a ghost pony how uncomfortable you are with having her join you in the bath.
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He might be an idiot sometimes, but his heart’s in the right place, and that’s what really matters.
It’s the hardest thing that a parent would have to do, but when the time comes, they’ll have to let her go.
9463300
Life kinda works out like that sometimes, doesn’t it? You think you’ve got it all figured out, and then all of a sudden it swerves to the left and you just hang on for the ride.
9463535
While of course it’s never discussed in the show--or hasn’t been yet---from a purely practical standpoint, given the number of sapient species in Equestria, there would without a doubt be interspecies couples and if there was any kind of magic possible to help them start a family, ponies would have come up with it. Whether it’s a spell like in It Ain’t Easy Being Breezies or something else that doesn’t require one member of the tango to undergo a complete transformation, they very likely would have tried to find a way.
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