On A Rainy Day
I smelled the air and sighed. Days like this were what I was born for. We'd finally finished putting all the nimbus clouds in place, I could smell that lovely fresh rain smell, and it was pouring down, watering the crops right on schedule.
I spun and twirled in the wind, enjoying the feel of the breeze whipping through my turquoise mane. Rain splattered all over my jasmine-colored coat, and into my face. I laughed as I wiped my eyes off.
Down below, tree limbs waved to me as I passed by. The grass glistened with freshly fallen raindrops. It was starting to be one gloriously rainy day, and I was enjoying every minute of it. Who wouldn't?
Alright, rhetorical question. I know a number of ponies would consider me insane for even thinking such a thing. But then, they aren't me. And I know there are some places where it only rains a few times a year.
I could never live in one of those places.
I soared through the sky, a fair distance further up, exhilarated and giddy as only a good rainy day can do for me. Well, that or a night out with a good mare, but when's the last time that happened?
Looking down, view distorted by the drops still falling around me, the landscape was difficult to make out. I could see a murky blue-gray splotch to one side, which was clearly the pond. Then there were different shades of green all around, along with the occasional house or two. There was a muddled brown where the now muddy roads below and clearings were. And a small spot of orange and magenta was smack in the middle of all that mud.
Wait, what was that? I made a lower flyby in that area to get a better view.
I guess not everypony was having a good time. A young orange pegasus with a magenta mane was lying spread-eagled in the mud, crying. I felt an uncomfortable feeling of deja-vu, from back in the days before I'd learned to love the rain.
I flew on down, and made a gentle landing next to the filly. She didn't seem to notice, and just kept crying. Poor kid.
"What's wrong, kid?" I called out, touching my hoof to her side. She swatted it away, and rested her head back on one foreleg, staring at the ground.
Well, I was never one to give up too easily. I tweaked her tail, and repeated myself. "I said, what's wrong, kid?"
This earned me a glare. "Can't you just leave me alone?"
She was talking to me. This was a start.
"Leave you alone?" I said, repeating her now. I swear sometimes it feels like that's all I do. "Alone and moping around on a glorious day like this?"
"Glorious?" she half-choked out between sobs. "What's so glorious about it? It's raining."
There was no accounting for taste. "Of course it's glorious. The rain in your face, the wind behind your wings..."
The kid sniffled. "Maybe for you. I c-can't fly."
Hmm. Wasn't she a bit old not to be able to fly? Her wings did look rather small, though. "Well, I'm sure that'll come with time. Maybe when your wings get a bit bigger."
"That's not what the doctors say." She wiped at her eyes. "A-According to them, I-I only have a twenty percent ch-chance of ever being able to fly."
Ouch. That must have hurt. "They just tell you that today?" I guessed.
"Yeah." She appeared to be calming down slightly. "I had a doctors a-appointment this morning. It's 'cause my wing growth is s-stunted."
"Well, that's still a one in five chance of being able to fly, at least," I said, trying to be encouraging. "It could happen."
"Yeah, but more likely than not it won't." Man, this kid was being gloomy. At least her sobbing seemed to have mostly stopped as we talked. Which, of course, was the point.
"So that's why you're lying in a patch of mud in the middle of nowhere contemplating the ground, and your relationship to it?" I said, trying to keep the tone light.
"It's not just that. It's been the whole day," she said.
"I've had days like that," I said, with complete honesty. "What's your name, kid?"
"Scootaloo." An odd name, but I wasn't one to judge.
"So what else happened to you today, Scootaloo?" I asked. Usually talking out this sort of thing helped, so I wanted to make sure to get the whole story.
"Well, at school afterwards, these two bratty girls were teasing me, calling me a blank-flank and a flightless dodo." I glanced at her flank, and sure enough, there was nothing but mud and orange fur there.
"Seems like every generation has bullies like that." I commiserated. "So, they were picking on you, and got you all worked up, since this was the same day of that doctors visit. Then what happened?"
"I sorta leapt at one of them, and got into a fight," she admitted. "Cheerilee pulled us apart, gave all three of us detention, and wrote me a note to take home."
"Ah. Not a good idea. They're just trying to provoke you." I said. "When you give them a reaction like that, they know they've gotten through to you, and they've won."
"Yeah, you're probably right." Scootaloo sighed. "I got so mad, though. On the way home, I was upset, it started raining, and I was going all out on my scooter, not really paying attention. I hit a rock, a wheel flew off, and went face first into the mud."
Looking around, I spotted a scooter a little ways off, and one wheel lying by itself.
"And once that happened, everything that happened today caught up with you, and you just decided to give up." I could see her point, even if I didn't quite agree with it.
"Yeah," she said. "It didn't seem worth getting back up afterwards, and I just felt like staying here and being miserable."
"Well, it's not the end of the world, Scootaloo," I told her. "I went through something similar once myself when I was your age, and I'm still here."
"You did?" Scootaloo asked. "What happened?"
"Well, here, get up and follow me, and I'll tell you all about it." I helped her out of the mud, and grabbed her scooter. The wheel that had fallen off turned out to be laying nearby. Taking it with me, I led her into the shelter of a nearby tree.
I examined the wheel and scooter carefully. "Well, good news is that everything's intact. It just needs a new nut and bolt."
"Good." Scootaloo let out a sigh of relief. "That scooter and me have been through a lot of adventures, and I'd hate to lose it. What was your name, anyways?"
"Raindrops," I said, letting her get a good look at the three drops on my flank out of habit. I used to be insecure about whether people would associate my name with my cutie mark. With good reason.
"No wonder you were so into the rain earlier. It falls right in line with your special talent. I'm not sure I'll ever get one." The kid seemed to be moving back into the deep funk she'd been in earlier.
"Eh, cutie marks can be deceptive, kid. And overrated." Now there was an understatement.
"You said you'd tell me about your own bad day, though." She looked at me doubtfully.
"I sure did. First, though, can you make a Pinkie Pie promise not to let anypony else know about it? It's rather embarrassing." I'm not even sure why I decided to tell her about it, to be honest, since I usually kept this one secret. It's probably just that I knew she'd appreciate it.
"Alright. Cross my heart, hope t-to f-ly..." The kid looked like she was going to start crying again, so I patted her on the back. Stupid feathering oaths. "Stick a cupcake in my eye."
"Well, first off, it was the anniversary of my mother's death, so I started out the day in a horrible mood," I told her. "She'd only died the previous year, so it really hit hard that day."
"Oh," Scootaloo said. "How did she die?"
"In her sleep," I said simply. Narcolepsy is a horrible sleep disorder for a pegasus to have. She hadn't woken up in time to pull out of her terminal dive. The extra detail didn't seem necessary to lay on the kid, though.
"Sounds peaceful, at least." It wasn't, of course, but she wasn't going to hear that from me. "So you were already in a funk because of that..."
"Yeah. Then I went down to try and help the weather squad try to get a big rainstorm together." I shuddered, remembering. "I managed to zap myself no less than five times before I slunk off, embarrassed. I still remember all the other pegasi laughing at the talentless, blank-flank pegasus."
"This was before you got your cutie mark?" she asked, interested.
"Yep," I said. "So I went home, where my father broke to me that he wasn't going to be able to take me to a Wonderbolts performance we'd been planning to go to in a few weeks."
"Geez," Scootaloo said. "What a lousy day."
"I'm afraid I ended up in a yelling match with him, then ran off into the rain. Much like you, I wasn't looking where I was going. I tripped, and fell right in a drainage ditch." It was depressing to even think about.
"And you just lay there crying, not seeing any reason to get up," Scootaloo said, having just been there.
"I'm told I was there for hours, and that multiple ponies tried to get me out of the rain unsuccessfully." It had felt like an eternity. "Eventually my father coaxed me out of it, took me home, wrapped me in a blanket, and we made up."
"I guess you do know what it's like, then," Scootaloo said.
"Well, there's one last thing. After we made up, he pointed out that at some point that day, my cutie mark had appeared." I revealed.
"On a day like that?" Scootaloo exclaimed.
"Yeah. Since I'd practiced weather-making earlier, I let on that that was when it had appeared, and decided to add 'Raindrops' to my name at my cute-ceañera and go by it," I told the young filly. "I then spent a bunch of time practicing with rainclouds, and got really good at all things rain related."
"Makes sense, but didn't you say you messed up five times that day with the weather?" Scootaloo said, sensing there was more to the story.
"Right. And I know I didn't have the mark when I ran off from my argument with my father," I said ruefully. "All I can figure is that it means I'm really good at crying, which is hardly a talent I'm proud of."
While Scootaloo sat there, trying to take in that a cutie mark wasn't necessarily going to be something to be proud of or happy with, I pulled out the toolkit I usually keep in my saddle bag.
A bit of hunting in the pocket found a good bolt and nut. I slapped them on the scooter and wheel. Grabbing an adjustable wrench with my teeth, I tightened it till the wheel was firmly in place.
"There, good as new." I gave the kid her scooter back. She greeted it like a long lost friend. Or with the way she was caressing it, possibly somepony closer.
"So how did you end up loving the rain, after all of that, anyways?" Scootaloo asked, curious.
"Well, the rain really had nothing to do with my breakdown, and I love the smell of fresh rain, and the way it feels when it falls on your skin. It's amazing, really." I gushed.
"Uh huh." Scootaloo grunted.
"Well, that, and after a few other times of collapsing into fits of crying, bouts of depression, not being willing to even drag myself out of bed, and things like that, my father took me to a doctor." I said sheepishly. "I ended up getting diagnosed with clinical depression. A couple pills a week, and I'm right as rain."
"Really?"
"Yeah. And with my emotions more in balance, my natural feelings about rain came more to the foreground." Looking her over, the squirt seemed calmer, and about recovered from her breakdown now. "Now, if you're feeling a bit better, why don't I take you on home?"
A little nudging, and I got her to give me some directions. The white unicorn with the electric blue mane who answered the door seemed pretty relieved to see the kid, too, which was a relief. I made sure the mare, who turned out to be her aunt, knew the score before I left.
Satisfied she was in good hooves, I continued on my way to enjoy the rain in peace. The rain would only last so long, and I planned to enjoy every bit of it that I could. Given the time, I took my next pill, then flew off in spirals through the rain, laughing as I went, leaving the weight of the world behind me.
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This is pretty good. I rather like the character of Raindrops you've developed; friendly and good, and with some problems of her own that don't stop her from being kind.
Only complaints: you repeat a couple of words too often early on. For instance:
"I spun and twirled in the wind, enjoying the feel of the wind whipping through my turquoise mane. Rain splattered all over my jasmine-colored coat, and into my eyes. I laughed as I wiped my eyes off."
Play around a bit with different words to make for better flow. There's one or two others up there as well.
Scootaloo also sounds a bit too mature during the conversation later on, but that's just a minor niggle at the back of my head.
Keep it up.
1875209
Hmmm, yeah. I usually catch those, but I rewrote the first couple paragraphs because I didn't really care for the original versions. Must not have checked the rewritten versions as well. That and I'm working on my bad tendency to revise things to death. I might be going a little too much in the other direction.
And I do see one line of Scootaloo's dialogue that could probably use revision. I'll think about it.
Thanks, btw. I actually had some of Raindrops background worked up from another oneshot that I never published, so writing it came pretty naturally because of that.
1875209
I adjusted that paragraph and the one line of dialogue that was bugging me. I'll live with how often the word rain is repeated, though. She's a little obsessed, after all.
Bit of an abrupt ending, but pretty good overall. Although I'm confused as to why ponies wouldn't associate Raindrops' name with her cutie mark :)
1875257
Thanks! And the ending might be a bit abrupt. I'll admit I didn't want to detail Scootaloo arriving home much because I didn't feel like determining which of the dozens of Scootaloo backstories I have I was using for this fic.
Also, I did want to keep the focus on the one scene and the conversation between them.
And at this point, it's an irrational worry of Raindrops', but when she first got her cutie mark, it was more up in the air, and old habits die hard.
Sad, but good! I'd echo the comment that the early paragraphs could use some revision to cut down on "rain" in consecutive sentences, but after that, I was engrossed in it
"In her sleep"... that is a chilling way to reveal that detail. Very well done, and I like how you deflected while acknowledging that death, not always pleasant deaths, happen.
I really like how you step away from some of the standard tropes and crafted a different story. Thanks for putting this up!
1876784
Yeah, looking back, I can see at least one spot where I had the word 'rain' twice within five words. It should be common in those paragraphs, but not quite that common. I'l think about it, and see what I can come up with for adjustments. The first couple paragraphs were actually the most difficult for me to write. (Though I had to do it, since "Tales of Ponyville" made Raindrops love of the rain headcanon for me...)
And thanks. I actually really did like writing the "In her sleep" section. I'm still left thinking about how a pegasus would cope with that particular disorder. Realistically, I'd have to think you'd be under strict doctors orders to never fly alone. And human nature (pony nature?) is such that it'd get violated regularly...
wow...anti depressants....I know that feeling -looks at the orange bottle of pills on my desk, then the bottle of stimulants beside it- yeah....
It's a sweet story, but at times I get the feeling Scootaloo's dialogue doesn't completely fit. Like she talks a little too much like an adult, in some of her wording. Other than that, it's a good story.
2475275
Thanks! This, in fact, is probably the fanfic of my published ones that I'm the least satisfied with, largely because I jumped to publishing it a little too fast, and should have taken more time polishing it. And looking back, I can certainly see times where she uses words that are too big, Though it may just be because she's quoting the doctor.
Maybe I'll give it another pass one of these days. I do actually like the story and characters, after all. Part of why I wrote this was to rescue Raindrops cutie mark backstory, in fact, because I liked it a lot better than the fanfic it was originally intended for.
It was also an experiment in writing first person, since I usually write in third person.
Satisfied or no, this pokes at some deep questions, like what you do when you don't want your Mark to define your life. Nice little read.
I also appreciated that Raindrops is responsibly medicating her depression. If your body is biochemically impairing your functionality, the thing to do is fix it, not pretend that our brains have perfect control over our bodies and that depression means we're somehow personally failing.
4240332
Thanks. This isn't honestly one I come back to much, and my memory if it may be a little muddled by having done an edit or two after the fact to fix the first couple paragraphs up, as well as the end slightly.
It actually originated as backstory for another story I was writing at one point that I rewrite to death, until I got to the point where I abandoned it because I almost literally could not look at it any more.
The history of Raindrops cutie mark was interesting enough that I tried writing this, and tried using first person, which I usually don't do.
I always did like messing with the idea behind cutie marks and what you do if your cutie mark is for something you don't want to be your whole life, and making your cutie mark represent what you want, though.
And I totally agree on the depression. Why don't you see majorly depressed characters in fiction actually going to doctors about it, and taking medication? It might be fun sometime to go through listing characters in fiction that really ought to be receiving treatment for some of their issues...
Ouch. You should have stopped right there. That's kinda brilliant, in a dark sort of way.
4986082
I suppose I didn't need to elaborate after that line. I expect I wasn't sure everyone would know what Narcolepsy was.
I totally agree with Raindrops on this one, though. That was one of the better and more interesting ideas in this oneshot.
Of course, the whole origin of this story was that I didn't want to let backstory I came up with for another oneshot that didn't see the light of day go to waste. And then, of course, the "20% chance of being able to fly" thing eventually sparked the idea for Just Winging It without my even thinking about it at the time...
--arcum42
I am working on a dramatic really of the story if you. Don't mind
8021697
No problem. As long as you link to the original story, I'm mentioned as the author, and you give me a link to the video, that should be fine.
It's been long enough since I wrote this story that I'm honestly feeling like I should probably reread it.
--arcum42
8025801
Here is the link to my reading
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oL-8nI5v0C0&index=13&list=PLvWa1cP5Ed2Xfd5OkpRBa2RKIiqmeqzUJ
8060205
Alright, thanks!
--arcum42