You wake up.
The air is wet, but warm. Bed delightfully soft and caressing. Very soon, it will be another day of your life. Just dangling, somewhere over the horizon. Waiting on your majesty to raise the sun.
Your sheets are tangled; pillow gracelessly spilled upon the floor.
You must have had a fitful night of sleep, but you don't remember.
You're fixing the sheets now, and it's making you feel better. It clears your head to form their lines. Crafting a peaceful order from the unkempt; gently cover the signs of unrestful nights.
The sun is cresting now, and you smile. It's going to be another wonderful day in your favorite little town.
Savory oats and tastes of carrots. Milk to smooth the flavor. The breakfast you love each and every day. Little, fanciful kisses on your palette, to carry you through your daily labor.
Carrot fragrance swirls with soilage musk, as you part the earth of your morning garden. Pale hooves stained with dirt. Small, wiggling friends, in your garden, on your tools. Eating and excreting your soil, making fertile.
Sweat is on your brow, and your jaw aches with exertion. There's another cramp in your neck, but you keep lifting and turning the soil.
You pluck the weeds that don't belong. Make room for your seeds to grow. Seeds that will develop into something crisp, orange, and plump. Seeds that will bring life to the ponies of the town you love.
There's a commotion off in the distance. It's a shriek of fear or joy. It must be important to somepony, but you keep on digging.
It's not your turn to look yet.
You're walking beside your friend now. Her light blue coat glistens in the afternoon sun, giving a quaint beauty to each articulated move. You're looking at her mane, and you're feeling confused. You don't understand its perfection, how it dances with every step of hoof. You're trying to remember the last time you looked in a mirror. You're trying to picture your own mane, as it once was, just to wonder how it might compare. But your head is hurting now, and you can't quite recall.
Still. Deep inside, you know you're not as lovely as her.
Her mouth is moving now. Her hoof pointing off in the distance; head still bobbing in tune. You can read the enthusiasm gushing from her. You can feel her body just crying out to communicate with you.
But for the life of you, you can't hear a single word.
You're nodding and you're laughing, but you don't know why. Your mouth is moving in that funny way, when no words come out. Your tongue feels numb, and you're gasping for breath. But your eyes twinkle like perfect little gems, and you've got a smile that would make a dentist blush.
You can feel it. You're in the limelight now, and you need to have your best face on.
You're eating the food that's in front of you, wishing you were hungry for it. Wishing it had carrots. Wishing it was something you made.
There are strange ponies sitting at your table, but you're smiling at them anyway. One looks almost familiar to you, just a little different than she's supposed to. Something is off with her cutie mark, and you don't remember her having wings. But you understand that sort of thing. Everypony has her off days.
You want to look for the waiter; want to catch his eye and ask for a box to go.
But you keep smiling. Keep pretending to know the ponies in front of you. Keep pretending you can hear the words they are supposed to say. You do this, because there's a buzz in the air. You can hear the humdrum of ponies enjoying themselves, echoes of phantom conversations that never really existed at all. You do this, because you know something important is about to happen.
You spot the waiter out of the corner of your eye, but you can't look at him directly.
He's holding a platter on his back, passing by that table in the spotlight.
The pink pony is bouncing and laughing. You can hear her voice cutting through the crowd. Shrill and grating, laced with unrequited glee.
You're not surprised when she collides with the waiter. You're not surprised when he stumbles from it, spilling the pitcher he so precariously balanced. You're not surprised when that water cascades right on top of the dangerous, purple unicorn.
But your face is carved in shock, and you're staring. You grimace as steam rises from the unicorn's head, and cower as embers burn within her eyes. To anypony passing by, you're the perfect image of a confused and intrigued mare, caught unaware by a moment of scandal.
But you're feeling bored, and just can't look away.
You really want to get the waiter's attention now. You're tired of sitting at this table, and sick of your undesired food and sick of your undesired company. But as the world focuses on the pink pony's sheepish grin, you know it just doesn't matter any longer.
For a fleeting moment, you're walking the streets again. Alone this time, and you swear you heard mention of the princess.
You're in a crowd, cheering your lungs out at the most exciting thing you've ever seen. Your eyes are deadlocked on the champion, as she's swept away in victor's glory. The stands are wild, streamers clouding up the air, and never have you felt so alive.
But you're still trying not to notice yourself, cheering two rows ahead of you.
And thankfully, she has the courtesy to do the same.
The last fleeting rays of sunlight skitter across your bedroom wall. Illuminating speckles in the autumn air.
There's a bittersweet feeling in your heart.
You tell yourself that you're happy, and that you had another wonderful day in the town you love.
But you're not sure.
When you try to think back on the events, your head begins to hurt. And you just can't recall.
You lift the covers; slide your body across the cold sheets. Your limbs and neck are sore, extra sensitive to the mellow water chill. You tell yourself it must have been another productive day in the garden.
Little doubts peck and chew at the corners of your mind, but you sweep them away. You're happy, and that's final. If it wasn't true, then you wouldn't have a smile on your face. You wouldn't be grinning and chuckling to yourself, hoping to Celestia it doesn't turn into a sob.
The sun is setting, and you don't have much time left if you want to get up before dawn.
You close your eyes.
This is more of an experiment than a full story. I just wondered what would happen if you took a very literal interpretation of FiM's background ponies. If you refuse to fill in the blanks, and refuse to accept animation shortcuts for what they are... What's left? Can you tell a story from the perspective of a character that's just a shell of a concept?
I had two goals with this story: I wanted it to be possible to pick up from any segment, and still read in a "coherent" loop. And I wanted to play around with the concept of, "seen and not heard," that I feel is a big part of being a background pony.
This can either be a one-off, or it can be a short story with a couple chapters. I'm not sure yet. If it does develop into a story, there will be plot and character development. I promise it won't just be a couple chapters of incoherent rambling.
Edit:
Made some changes to purple passages. It has also been brought up that there are sentence fragments, but a lot of them are intentional for stylistic purposes. If you see some grammar errors, that you feel hurt the story instead of help, could you quote them?
GROWING CARROTS IS SERIOUS SHIT
1655628 YOU AGAIN?!
(Fucking bro hoof me.>/)
1655634 (\
1655640
Any who, putting this one on read later list. It's late, and I should've been in bed hours ago.
1655653 DON'T LEAVE ME!
AND THEN SUDDENLY A SUPERGIANTROBOT.
1655628 first of all, do you even read the things you comment on? just curious.
Secondly, this is really interesting. I actually enjoyed reading it, and felt sorry for the two dimensional mare that everybody knows and loves as Carrot Top. Taking it quite literally from what you see from the show is very interesting. Don't get me wrong, there is room for improvement. Some sentence structuring needs to be fixed, but all in all, I thought it was very interesting. Certainly better than the one dimensional clop shit that usually makes it into the featured box—a type of genre that I guiltily enjoy, but not for it's actual writing merit. You get a favorite from me, and if this is a one shot, it'll be a unique addition to my list of favorites.
1655628
I deny your claim that Growing Carrots is serious, but I'm afraid I can't argue against it being shit.
1655685 Of course!
1655693 Your avatar makes it all the better.
1655694 Jus' makin' sure! You seem to be quick to the draw very often.
1655703 It's more a skim then a read. I skim, comment, then I go back and read it if it was good during the skim. SOmetime, however, I don't make it past the description because people are fucking idiots.
1655715 well, granted. I think everybody does. Some terrible stuff out there, but I usually tend to just leave them be, and watch them get slammed by other people. If the premise is really good, I'll read it, but rarely will I get through one without giving up my brain to the interwebs.
1655728 See, I have a reputation to maintain.
1655736
...I can see that. Wouldn't call it the best of reputations, but it is one nonetheless.
1655742
People love me, don't deny it
1655685
Thank you. Your words are very encouraging. I probably should have mentioned that there are many places I break grammar. In quite a few, I even do it intentionally (usually in the form of sentence fragments.) I feel it helps to achieve a certain meter and tone that I have difficulty getting across otherwise. But I would be very interested to know what places it doesn't work, or what places I may have overlooked altogether (and simply had grammar errors.) I'm also always open to suggestions on finding a way to curb the bad habit altogether.
1655752 Honestly, I loved using fragments. It has a certain amount of poetic usage that readers can feel, but writers hate. There's a quote (originally related to music) that goes "first you must learn then rules, then you try to break them." Basically, fragments are a big no-no, but I personally believe they can be utilized to created an effect in the mind of the reader. It was, in part, I think, what gave me success in my story "Hope in the Storm." Readers thought it was well written, writer's think it needs work, and I agree, but if ain't broke, don't fix it. A 202:1 like/dislike ratio means I at least did something right. So, while the reason I said there were errors was because of the fragments, I endorse the idea of using them for poetic language, although you do have to use them properly, and with good intent.
1655745 Your avatar amuses me.
1655669
I think you just gave me the ending to my next story.
1655783 Kurt Cobain is best rock star.
1655799
Kurt Cobain fucks shit up in the best of ways, my man.
1655794 Well I want credit, you plagiarizing summbitch.
1655802
1655807
1655815
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I've been stumbling across a number of these 2nd person stories lately... huh... anyways this one was... interesting.
1655824
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1655828
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1655840
heathersanimations.com/Silly/Bread.gif
1655840
love Dave Grohl, though
1655842 Invalid pic.
1655845 Who doesn't?
1655850
ugh, fine.
alfa.gifs-planet.com/new/2665.gif
1655825
It's my first story in second person perspective. I just wanted to play around with something new, and I hoped it might help the reader connect with Carrot Top on a more personal level. Yeah. It's out there. I blame the strange music I've been listening to.
1655855
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1655873 25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m9w7tvBy2r1r2c2g1o1_400.gif
"If you wake up at a different time, in a different place, could you wake up as a different pony?" is what the synopsis made me think of.
Your writing is a bit stupidly purple in some places, but overall I think you create the effect you're going for. You use sentence fragments to create a deliberate flow that works, which is not something I see in fanfiction very often.
I think you've got an interesting idea here that's just a little bit horrifying, one that warrants further exploration. I'll be interested to see any more you write.
1655876
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1655916 I'm retiring. Don't think this Kurt storm is over.
1655877
Fight Club is one of my favorite movies of all time, and Chuck Palahniuk is one of my greatest inspirations. So I'm tickled pink that the synopsis made you think of that.
You're probably right about the purple prose. Anywhere in particular that you felt some phrasing was overdone?
1655928
1655930 Sorry about the Kurtgasm in the comments.
Holy shit; it's what I wanted to try with Twilight Discovers Literary Analysis and what I wanted to find in Background Pony. This is a masterpiece of the finest sort—though a bit purple at times—and I congratulate you sincerely.
1655930
>Eating and excreting your soil, in their never-ending cycle of pink fleshy ways.
"pink fleshy ways" sounds almost like a parody of substanceless purple prose.
>your own mane, atop your own crown
"crown" kinda almost seems to imply that CT is almost bald except for a bit in the middle.
>Your mouth is sizzling on the chilled afterglow of spearmint toothpaste.
"chilled afterglow" struck me as really melodramatic.
Not bad on the whole, really.
1655961
But...what...huh? I've read both Twilight Discovers Literary Analysis and Background Pony, and they're both wondrous pieces of brony literature. You must not compare this experimental rubbish to anything those two amazing stories have achieved.
You're the second person to mention this is purplish though. Perhaps I should go over it again, and see what bits I can tone down.
1656007
Thanks a lot for pointing those out. I'll see if I can improve them.
1656008
I'll take that compliment with pride.
Anyway, the purple prose is noticeable only in the lack of a few conjunctions—sentence fragments—and some metaphors; they don't particularly serve to hurt the story in any appreciable way. There are some comma splices here and there, but overall I can't crucify you over them.
After all, I didn't even see most of them the first time around.
There were some minor grammar problems, but I really like this. Very original, and somewhat melancholy.
Definitely a curious and very interesting structire; the allusion towards these snippets of time blinking in and out for spacing and jagged sentences was a splendid success!
GREAT WORK!
Oh, how I'm moved to wonder who this mare actually is... almost as much as SHE is!
It's nice to read something new and unique - unlike everything Regidar touches.
1655935
O HAI!
Heh 1. When I saw the chapter title, I thought it was another winningverse tie-in.
Heh 2. I am also in the process of writing a Carrot Top story