Welcome to da Broncs
The Sidewalks of Noo Yoke
By Scoots2
Cherry Blossom didn’t know where she was, but she knew she probably shouldn’t be in an alley.
The whole family had been so excited when Daddy came home with the news that the bank needed a representative from Dodge Junction, and that they were all moving to Manehatten. Daddy told them how much he was going to be paid, and it was a fortune. They would be rich! She hadn’t thought at first about the hard parts of moving: packing, deciding which things she could take and which she would have to give away, and saying goodbye to all her friends. Still, she’d thought as they sped across the desert, they were going to live in Manehatten!
It hadn’t turned out the way she thought it would. What seemed like a fortune in Dodge Junction wasn’t so much in Manehatten. She’d overheard her parents talking about it while she was curled up with her little brother, Bing, and they thought she was asleep. They ended up moving where Daddy would have a long train ride to Manehatten every day. He would be gone before she got up for breakfast, and wouldn’t get home until after dinner. They didn’t live in a house anymore, either, but in a building they shared with five other families, none of whom had a filly her age to play with.
School was going to start soon, and she would have to go alone, where she didn’t know anypony. Daddy had walked with her, showing her how to get to school. She was supposed to walk down their street, cross at the corner, walk down another street, turn, walk up a third street, and there was the school. He reminded her, in a worried tone, always to look both ways before she crossed, and to be very careful. With Daddy trotting reassuringly by her side, it seemed simple. It would be easy as pie.
It wasn’t easy at all. The street was loud, and ponies pushed past her in both directions, bumping into her new saddlebags, smudging her clean white coat, and snapping at her to look where she was going. Big carts raced by in the street, and the drivers were all trying to move even faster, ringing bells and yelling at each other. Three carts had collided at the street corner where she was supposed to cross. She couldn’t go the way Daddy had shown her, and she became confused. Was she supposed to walk up Pastern Avenue, or down? As she stood there, trying to decide, more ponies banged into her, shouting at her to make up her mind. She tried going one way, then another, and all of them turned out to be wrong. Now she was in an alley, completely lost and feeling very unsafe.
With the crowds of ponies racing back and forth and blocking the entrance, she had no choice but to walk down the alley, although she had no idea what was at the other end. She stepped carefully around decaying cabbage, broken cider bottles, and old newspapers. Then she heard the heavy ring of iron shoes on the pavement behind her. She didn’t dare turn around, and she didn’t want to run, so she broke into a trot. The hoof falls grew louder, and the ringing sound closer. The alley was narrow, and there was nothing big enough to hide behind, so she broke into a full out gallop, until at last she slid on something green and slimy, fell to her knees, and skidded to a halt. Her pursuer was going to catch up to her, and they’d have to come face to face.
The filly was big. A kind pony would have called her sturdy, and an unkind one chubby. Her mane and tail were cut so short that she almost might have been mistaken for a colt, except for one long pink forelock that covered almost half of her face. The half that showed was wide, brown, freckled, and unsmiling. One green eye glared at her from underneath a knitted eyebrow. The effect was far from friendly, and even threatening. Cherry Blossom prepared herself for the worst, but instead, the brown filly stretched out her foreleg to give her a helping hoof up. She gratefully took it.
“You’ll wanna get some good solid iron shoes,” said the brown filly, in a voice that grated on Cherry Blossom’s ears like a hoof file. “Da streets are really hard on da hooves.”
Now that she could see the other filly up close, she saw that despite her size, she, like Cherry Blossom, had no cutie mark. She hadn’t meant to stare, but she saw her whip her short tail against her rump in a vain attempt to hide her flank, and then drop it.
“Sorry,” the brown filly said. “’Sno big deal. Force a habit. I’m tryin’ ta quit.” She glanced over at Cherry Blossom’s own flank. “Hey, you too?” she said, her face brightening, and lifted a hoof. Cherry Blossom looked at it, unsure of what to do, and then raised her own and touched hooves tentatively. That must have been wrong, because the other filly’s expression had changed back from almost welcoming to neutral. “P.S. 31?”
That was the school she was supposed to be going to, but she wasn’t sure if it was a good thing that the big filly was going there too. Still, if she were a classmate, she’d find out anyway. “Yes,” she admitted. “I’m Cherry Blossom. I’m new,” she added.
The other filly blew her long forelock out of her face. She could get a glimpse of both green eyes for a moment and she thought she caught a glint of amusement. “I wooda never of guessed. I’m new dere myself, but I been livin’ in dis neighborhood my whole life and I know da way dere, so ya maybe should come wit’ me.”
Was she being friendly? She wasn’t rushing forward or smiling, and she didn’t sound especially enthusiastic about meeting a brand new classmate. That didn’t seem right. Why, at Dodge Junction—
--at Dodge Junction, they’d be getting ready for the running of the leaves right now. She, Sugar Plum, and Peach Tree would be planning their Nightmare Night costumes. Did they even have seasons in Manehatten? What did they do to change them? Suddenly, she felt very homesick, and squeezed her eyes tight so she wouldn’t embarrass herself by bursting into tears. When she opened them, the other filly looked worried, but simply said, “we oughta get going. Late da first day, dat ain’t good.”
She didn’t seem very friendly by Dodge Junction standards, but she was offering to walk with her, and it didn’t make sense to say no, so she said yes.
“Cherry Blossom, huh?” the brown filly said. “Babs Seed over here. I know, I know,” she added, rolling her eyes, “but da alternative’s even worse. I should talk to Poppy ‘bout dat, but I just don’t have the chutzpah. Ya gotta take whatcha get in da name department, know what I’m sayin’? C’mon.” She started trotting down the alley, iron shoes ringing, and Cherry Blossom followed, trying to think of something polite to say.
“I really like your mane,” she finally said tentatively.
Babs cracked a laugh. “First time I heard dat!” she said, and blew her forelock out of her eyes. “Nice of ya to say so, I guess. Now you—ya got a nice mane,” glancing at Cherry Blossom’s curly red, pink, and white mane and tail, “but you’ll prob’ly wind up cuttin’ it short anyways. S’way more practical. So, you’re new, you’re not from da neighborhood---which, no offense, but it kinda stuck out by a mile—where you from, den?”
Slowly at first, then more quickly, she found herself telling the strange, stout filly everything. She talked about Dodge Junction; how far away it was from everywhere else, and how the cherry trees looked when they bloomed on Cherry Hill Ranch in the spring. She talked about the cherries and how they sorted them onto big belts into piles for cherry jam, cherry pies, cherry chimichangas, and cherry sauce for ice cream, which Daddy said was the best anywhere. She talked about the one room schoolhouse, Sugar Plum and Peach Tree, and most of all, Auntie Jubilee, who everypony said was still the most beautiful filly for miles around. Babs didn’t interrupt, and didn’t say much except for “really?” and “uh-huh” and “whoa!” but instead of feeling more homesick, Cherry Blossom felt better, because somepony now knew how wonderful home had been and why she missed it so badly. As she talked, they trotted past more cider bottles and piles of decaying vegetables, but now they didn’t seem so bad, and she thought she should say so.
“This isn’t so awful—I mean, this is nicer than I thought it would be,” she said. “Do you always go to school this way?”
Babs stopped short, turning to her with her one visible eye wide with surprise. “Who, me? I come dis way ‘cause I could see you was goin’ dis way and I didn’ think ya oughta come dis way alone. I never come dis way if I can help it.”
“Why not?”
Babs looked straight ahead, where two shadows fell across the opening of the alleyway. Her expression wiped flat. “ ‘Cause dis is why.”
Two large colts were blocking their way. One was almost the size of a fully-grown stallion. His coat was a muddy brown, and on his flank was the ugliest cutie mark Cherry Blossom had ever seen: a blobby round spot that glared red. Next to him stood a weedy grey and white colt with black stripes in his mane and some sort of bird on his flank. They’d have to get past them somehow. She could feel herself being shoved back firmly by a strong hind leg, with a muttered, “I got dis.”
Babs trotted forward confidently. She could tell the two colts weren’t expecting this, and they looked at each other in confusion.
“Morning, Stoplight, Pigeon Stripe. S’up? Gotta get goin’.” She tried to trot past them, but they blocked her. The larger colt growled, in a voice that didn’t even sound as though it belonged to a pony, “Gimme your hay money.”
She met his eyes with a cool stare. “Don’ think I will dis time.”
The weedy pony with the black and white mane said, “Well, ain’t we throwing our weight around. Whassa matter? You got your cutie mark now? Wanna show us? Or can’t we tell in that fat flank a yours? Ha ha!”
“Haw,” the big colt said obediently. Babs flipped her tail against her flank, then took a deep breath and uncurled it.
“I ain’t got one yet on account of I got potential,” she said, sounding as though she were repeating something somepony had told her. “And on dat note, I gotta leave you boys. Not dat it ain’t been fascinatin’,” she added politely, “but I gotta get ta school.” She began trotting away, drawing the two colts away from the alley entrance and leaving a clear path for Cherry Blossom to get out. Pigeon Stripe snorted in frustration and lashed out, his teeth snapping exactly where Babs’ tail would have been if she had worn it as long as the Dodge Junction filly did. She whisked her short tail away and spun to face both colts, bracing her stocky frame.
She looked first to the big colt. “Stoplight, we been livin’ on the same block practically since we been foals,” she said pleadingly. “Ya don’t really wanna cause no trouble. We ain’t so different, you an’ me. What say ya drop it wit’ da bad attitude, huh? You lemme get ta school, maybe we go out an’ split a milkshake later, maybe be friends. ‘Sup ta you.” Stoplight furrowed his brows, which disappeared under his forelock. It was obvious that he was thinking, and that this didn’t happen often.
“Hay!” Pigeon Stripe exclaimed. “What am I, hot bran mash?”
Babs backed away from him, drawing him still further away from Cherry Blossom, who took her chance and trotted out of the alley. “What? You wanna be friends, Pigeon Stripe? I gotta say, I’m stunned. Nah, I doubt it, but how ‘bout a little tolerance here? I’m all about da love an’ da tolerance. Well, maybe just da tolerance, but you got da general outline.”
“You think dat’s funny?” the grey colt asked angrily. He tapped his hoof impatiently on the sidewalk and snapped, “Whassamatta you, Stoplight?”
The big colt’s face brightened. He’d finally finished his thought.
“You AN’ her gimme your hay money,” he said, and shambled slowly, but threateningly, closer to Babs, while Pigeon Stripe circled around and blocked her from fleeing back up the alley.
Babs’ eyes met Cherry Blossom’s over Stoplight’s huge shoulder. She knitted her eyebrows and glared at her. It was impossible to mistake her meaning: run. The little white filly didn’t want to run, though. It felt wrong to leave Babs, although she had no idea what she could do. Should she try to fight if necessary? Should she go for help? She realized in frustration that she didn’t even know where or in what direction she should go. In Dodge Junction, somepony would know if colts and fillies were fighting and they’d step right out into the street and stop it. If she could find a store or the school, would they pay any attention to her? Would they get back in time?
“Dat’s right,” Pigeon Stripe said with satisfaction. “You tell her, Stoplight.” He raised a hoof and poked Babs in the shoulder. Cherry Blossom winced. It looked as though it must hurt. “Don’t like dat, do ya?”
“Cut dat out, Pigeon Stripe,” Babs said angrily, and glared at the Western filly again, but by now, Cherry Blossom was determined not to run, no matter what happened.
“What? You gonna cry for us, crybaby?” he jeered. “Cry. G’wan ahead an’ cry. Whatcha gonna do, snitch on me an’ Stoplight, crybaby?”
Babs crouched, dropping closer to the street. “I ain’t no crybaby,” she said defiantly, “and I ain’t no snitch, but I will tell my big sis. Ya want me to tell Avocado ya were givin’ me an’ my friend here grief, ‘s your funeral.”
“You ain’t gonna tell Avocado nothin’,” Pigeon Stripe shot back, “on account of you’re gonna be glue before you get da chance. Get ‘er, Stoplight.” Stoplight rushed forward.
Cherry Blossom couldn’t quite remember what happened next. She thought perhaps that Babs had simply ducked under Stoplight’s belly, but then he began to roll forward. Surely she couldn’t have kicked him, but her hind legs snapped back and encouraged him to continue his trajectory. He somersaulted magnificently into a line of trashcans and ended up on his back, all four legs in the air. Babs wheeled around to Pigeon Stripe and blew her forelock out of her eyes. Probably she just wanted to be able to see better, but it might well have meant you next. Either way, the weedy gray colt spooked and galloped down the street. Babs shook her head.
“Sorry ya hadda see that,” she said regretfully. “I wouldn’ wantcha ta think dey’re representative of da whole neighborhood.” She adjusted her saddlebags, obviously checking to see that her books hadn’t come to any harm, and began to trot away. Cherry Blossom stared at the colt still lying cross-eyed, surrounded by rotten fruit, worn down salt blocks, and spit-out chaw.
“What about him?”
Babs turned back to look at her. “Who, Stoplight?” she said, surprised. “Stoplight’s all right. He’ll have a nice peaceful nap, and he’ll prob’ly come around and decide ta be friends. I make more friends dat way,” she said, thoughtfully flexing a solid hind leg. “It always pays ta be friendly. I learned dat in da country on’y dis summer. ‘Course,” she added cheerfully, “in da city, you gotta tweak it a little. Welcome to da Broncs.”
Cherry Blossom dazedly trotted after Babs, following her as her iron shoes cast up sparks from the cobblestones. She could hardly take it all in as her new friend began to talk about the ponies who lived in the neighborhood: Knishes Delicious, Whitewash, Mr. and Mrs. Planter, and the vast family of Seeds, including her Poppy, older sister Avocado, and her brother Coconut. The sounds, sights and smells around her slowly began to make sense. The whirring overhead came from the traffic pegasi, reporting on collisions and gridlock; the flashing red and green lights were created by the unicorns in charge of safety, “on’y they obviously din’t pay attention up on Pastern dis mornin’. Ain’t dat always da way.” Mixed in with the garbage smells were the scents of hundreds of different kinds of food from all over Equestria. “You won’t get dat nowhere but in Noo Yoke,” Babs said proudly. At the center of this confusing and exciting new world, the solid little filly trotted on, the grate of her voice matching the city noises and her simple coat blending with the brownstones. The city was Babs’ world, and she was beginning to think she’d like to be a part of it, too.
“So,” Babs was saying, “we got dis club, see. . .”
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Wow, what a terrific story! You really have a knack for getting the feel of the show and its characters and settings, and you've managed to craft a genuinely endearing story of friendship! Well done!
Nice. The names are great. The accent works. You've got lots of great lines that you could use in the description, instead of what you have, which is not very intriguing and a little confusing. Like, “Always pays ta be friendly. ‘Course,” she added cheerfully, “in da city, you gotta tweak it a little. Welcome to da Broncs.”
The title implies this happens before the show episode. It's important for us to find out, maybe in the next chapter, whether this is before or after what happened in the show.
Annoying unasked-for "help":
>Cherry Blossom didn’t know where she was, but she knew she shouldn’t be here.
You can't use the word "here" in third-person narration.
>Cherry Blossom wasn’t even sure if she were a filly or a colt, because her mane and tail were cut so short. She could only see part of her face, half of which was hidden by a long pink forelock.
If her mane was cut very short, her face couldn't be hidden by a long forelock. Well, it does, but it's confusing when you see it in print that way.
Linguo: ERROR! ERROR! BAD GRAMMER OVERLOAD! (Explodes)
1881530 Hi! I'm assuming you mean "bad grammar," or was that on purpose? No, Babs' grammar isn't especially good when she's speaking in her ordinary vernacular, or as she'd probably call it, "talking normal," or "talking regular." I may have taken it overboard, however.
1881315 Thank you so much! Thinking up those names was really fun, and duplicating accents is a nightmare, so I'm glad this went across well. Yes, those are some good suggestions, and many of them are simple tweaks, which I'll probably take care of shortly. Babs' hair, for example, can definitely be described a bit better: something like her mane and tail being very short, except for a long pink forelock, which covered most of her face, etc.
Action vs. dialogue is one of my weaknesses, and I know that. I was hoping for some critique, so I don't mind a bit. I think I can polish that up a bit, too.
Hmm. I thought it was clear-ish that it was set somewhere between "One Bad Apple" and "Apple Family Reunion." Her reference to having potential is from "Call of the Cutie," and I'd assume that the CMC passed this idea on to her. In "Apple Family Reunion," she's going to a new school, and this would have been on the first day. Still, my rule is that it's usually the author's fault if something isn't clear or doesn't get across. I think I'm a bit straitjacketed in writing from Cherry Blossom's POV. She doesn't know anything about the events in Ponyville, but maybe the two colts do, or Babs might refer to them more explicitly.
Alas, I usually do one-shots, so this is it, but I might have another, related Babs story.
1880475 Thank you so much! Getting the feel of the show is the highest of compliments, in my opinion, so I am so glad you think so.
1881802 Well, there's my problem. I haven't seen "Apple Family Reunion" yet, so I thought the reference in the description was talking about something in "Bad Seed".
you really pul this story off! i found your way of ponifying manhatten into manehatten to be excellent and the broncs makes for an interesting story peice. would like to see more into this if you feel up to carrying it
I've been waiting for a story like this, especially a non-dark story of Babs and da Bronx? Hell yeah.
1886832 Thanks! I'm glad you liked it.
Absolutely darling. i really loved getting to see more of Bab's world. Think you'll do more?
As well, I wouldn't worry about how much you tinkered with the dialogue, it felt word perfect.
1895082 I do think I'll do more! I've got a bunch of things I ought to be doing (who doesn't?) but I also have some ideas and I'd like to strike while they're fresh.
1896039 glad to hear it! Have you thought about writing something for the album?
1897477 Well, I glanced over and Babs is taken, so alas, probably not. Thanks for suggesting it, though. It's nice that someone thinks that highly of my writing.
1897791 no problem, I thought of it because the story felt very similar to stuff in the album so I figured you may be a good fit. Still glad to hear you'll be writing more.
I must say i do loves me some babs seed story, and its nice to see her apperance in "apple family reunion" spawned another one.
great work, looking forward to seeing this progress.
1898667 Thank you! I am a sucker for Babs, and I'm not even sure why. Possibly that accent that everybody hates. Who knows. Anyway, I think I've got another Babs idea.
Fantastic little one-shot. Congrats on the EqD feature! I didn't see any issues grammar-wise, except in Babs' speech, where it's very justified. Descriptions were short but vivid, the narration flowed very nicely, the characters seemed real, and all that other good stuff. What I'm saying is: I'm having a hard time finding anything wrong with this story.
The only two changes I'd make are both in the same sentence, having to do with how to write Babs' accent:
"I wooda never of guessed." -> "I woulda never 'ave guessed."
2062556 Thanks! I'm so glad you liked it. Writing Babs' speech was a nightmare, and I'm glad you think it came across ok. I think you're right about "woulda," but from what I remember, people really do say "never of guessed," and they mean "never of." Sad, awful, and true.
Is this a one shot, or a multichapter? It doesn't really feel like a completed story to me, which is a shame because I liked this a fair bit so far.
2065297 It's actually a one-shot. I've been adding a bit to the Babs-iverse, but it's more like those castle components you can buy for an extra 24.99: not part of the original set. I'm sorry it felt so abrupt to you.
Amazing! I loved it especially the broncs part lol! This is amazing 10 out of 10
Yay Babs Seed
That was fun. I'll definitely be taking a look at your other stories.
2065448 Thank you!
2069993 I hope you like those, too!
Definately a fun read. Well done
2247302 Thanks!
This has got to be my favorite fanfic of all time!
It's magnificent. The descriptions are very well drawn out, Babs's character really shines, and it's got a good deal of heart put into it. Fine piece of work, I say.
2760090 Wow. Thanks!
2774740 Thank you! I've meant to write more Babs--just haven't gotten around to it.
2829336
It was also my first fanfic I read, and what introduced me to FIMfiction.
Ok, at first, I admit, I winced through a lot of the words in Babs' dialogue at first, but I won't lie and say it didn't help me hear her voice in my mind clearly. You definitely aced that, my dear - and that's a task not many authors can do. Good on ya.
Now, regarding the story, I thoroughly enjoyed it. Very cute and sweet, with an episode-like feel to it.
4066307 Yeah, I know--thanks for suffering through it. It was a calculated risk, and tough to do. I wound up listening to Moonstruck a lot and using the way Cher and Olympia Dukakis speak as a model. I tried to avoid it in everything except for the stories with Babs in them. Sounding like an episode is one of my favorite compliments, so thanks!
I liked this story! The way it ended was very interesting to me, Do you plan on writing more to this story because I think this story has a good setup for another chapter. Also it would be awesome to hear what the CMC are up to in Manehatten.
4225814 Aw, thank you! I'm always so glad when someone reads Sidewalks. I did have a bit of Babs in the next fic after this--and I was planning to do an older Babs a bit later, only I got sidetracked by Cheese Sandwich! But I do love Babs, and I'll probably get back to her at some point.
I'm going to submit this to Twilight's Library! Hopefully they love it just as much as I did!
4337887 Thanks! You might want to check if it's already there, though, because I think it is.
4337887 Yeah, it's already in there. But thanks anyway!
Ah oh well at least now I know how to submit stories! Any stories of yours are sure fire winners in my book!
4339692 Aw, thanks!
This bothered me for multiple reasons. First, someone's OC is named Cherry Blossom, so the whole time, I cringed slightly when you described her differently than the one I know. Second, I hated Babs's accent. It took me away from the story and I couldn't enjoy it. Third, instead of giving me the feeling that she was getting used to it, I hated the area and wished that she was back home. Personally, you made me hate her father for moving them there. Fourth, the fact that she would walk all the way to school in the big city as a little girl bothered me more than you know. I can't imagine letting my future kids walk to school. Fifth, I know that you may like offscreen battle scenes, but I hate them and that made me more upset.
I came expecting a nice story and now I'm annoyed and slightly angry. I won't hit dislike, though, because I only save those for extremely bad stories, but you don't get a like or a favorite.
4629598 OK. I'm confused as to why you keep reading stories you don't like.
If your friend has an OC named Cherry Blossom, she should know that this is a name that has already been used by Hasbro. The name has been trademarked for ten years. See here. Your friend simply does not own that name or the concept. Usually, when I have to create OCs, I go back through previous gens of ponies on Strawberry Reef. There are exceptions (like some of the ponies in Slice of Life--Median Strip, Arugula, etc.) My Cherry Blossom is intended to look like her aunt, Cherry Jubilee: again, sourced from the franchise and the show. If you do a Google Images search, as I just did, with "mlp 'cherry blossom,' " you will get dozens of hits, some of the G3 pony, some of beautiful custom ponies, and some of a lot of different OCs. I'm sorry, but this accusation of not describing a pony "right" because someone used the same previously used name really irks me.
On the accent, I agree with you--it isn't something I'd do again.
On walking to and from school--kids did this all the time when I was growing up. What's more, ponies walk to and from school all the time in Ponyville, too. They are never dropped off by their parents. Did you notice that? So whether or not you'd let your future kids do it doesn't have much relevance. Ponies do.
You must be very fortunate indeed, never to have come across a situation in which a parent made a decision about a job move and couldn't take it back. Generally, this involves packing up, selling the house, and moving far away. It isn't something a parent can decide "oh, well, pfft, we'll just go back now."
Anyway, you didn't care for the story, and this is your option, but some of your opinions are based on not knowing enough accurate information about the show or the franchise.
4629699 I'm sorry.
This is only the first story I've read today that I disliked. Mr. Lonelyheart Meets Miss Lovestruck and Flash and Trend Steal All Your Waffles were lovely and caused me no grief.
As for the OC, I have no relation to the person. I have simply seen the OC online during my travels, recently. Also, I didn't mean to make it come off as though your pony is wrong. Yours is just simply another pony with the same name. My world just can't handle two ponies with the same name. The fact that it bothered me really had nothing to do with your story and was my own pain. I have a few little mental issues about certain things. This sort of thing is one of those thing, which, again, does not directly affect you.
With the whole accent thing, I hate accents. I can't stand them. I hate hearing them, reading them etc. I just don't like it. I don't even like mispronunciations. Also, I'm a bit of a grammar nazi (I'm sure you've heard the term.) and seeing accents written, especially ones where it's just simply not pronouncing things correctly, bothers me to no end. This is also, however, not your fault, for you were just sticking with the Manhattan theme.
I, myself, find it to be extremely unsafe to walk around at all outside, especially without a phone, which they don't have in Equestria. I'm a bit paranoid as a person. You know, afraid to be alone, afraid every moment that I'll turn around and be killed, always feel like I'm being watched. Basically, my own feelings toward the subject matter are far different than yours, I see, so you are not at fault, yet again.
For the job thing, I meant that I was mad at the father for moving in the first place. My mother drives nearly three hours every morning and every night to get to work. She gets up at 5:15 AM and gets home at around 7 PM. We live in a different state than where she works, you see. She's been working there ever since I was perhaps five and I am now 13. In the coming year, we will be moving there. But, the state borders ours and we go there frequently and most of my family lives there. So, by moving, I'm not going to some random place. Even that small change bothers me, for I hate change. (One time, I had a pile of stuffed animals in my room and I accidentally knocked them down, so I put them back. But, the pile didn't look the same. I tried to put it back exactly how it was, but I couldn't. So, I got rid of the pile because I couldn't stand to look at the new pile. Then, I couldn't stand not having a pile because I had always had the pile. Even these minor changes drive me insane, which leads me to believe that I may be slightly OCD.)
My own opinion is what ruined this story for me and is not your fault, as I had originally thought in my spell of anger. I was not thinking rationally, for I've been known to go on rants and then have to go back and apologize later. I suppose that I just get too caught up in my emotions to realize that I'm being stupid. Basically, you deserved none of the hate I thrusted upon you. And, for that, I am sorry.
Also, when I saw in my notifications showed that you had replied to my comment, I was immediately too scared to look. I didn't want to know what you would say because I knew that I had upset you. I didn't give constructive criticism, just unneeded hate. But, I forced myself to click the comment and it was exactly as expected. You did handle it better than I thought, though, as I expected swears, type yelling and the like.
P.S. I was not aware of Cherry Blossom. I don't much care for the other shows. Although, I never did watch them, so I'm not one to talk. Also, the fact that foals walked home did not cross my mind. It might be because I can't imagine bad neighborhoods being in Equestria. This story kind of popped that bubble, with bullies and fighting and whatnot. When you made Cherry run from Babs, I had a fleeting thought that she was going to get raped and then get killed. For a moment, I panicked, before remembering the content rating and description.
P.P.S. Sorry again for being a jerk and getting mad at your for your contrasting views on things.
4629811 No worries. Thanks for your polite response. I was cranky, but I don't do swearing and personal attack.
The lists I often go to for pony names are actually on Strawberry Reef. Most of them were never on shows. They were just pony toys. I like using their names.
I think Babs does get bullied in a tough way at school, but I'm also very conscious that I'm writing a story about child ponies in a children's cartoon. I can see how you might think something very terrible might be about to happen!--but I would not have written something like that. I don't like stories in which ponies get hurt, and especially not the CMC! As for Babs and the fight--she did an Aikido move, actually. That's something where when a person comes rushing at you, you use their own force to deflect them. When Stoplight runs at Babs, she just dodges him and lets him roll over. (She does kind of keep pushing him in the same direction.) If it makes you feel better, Stoplight really is basically ok. He will wake up with a headache and decide that maybe a milkshake with Babs sounds pretty good and that maybe he shouldn't be friends with Pigeon Stripe, who keeps picking fights and then making Stoplight fight them. Stoplight's an urban version of Bulk Biceps.
I really wouldn't write that kind of accent again. I hardly use one at all for Applejack.
Anyhow, 'nuff said. I'm glad we could explain things.
4629849 I'm happy we're okay, now, too!
You know, I hate confrontation (I noticed that during my last few comments, I've said "hate" a lot. That's probably too strong of a word, but I digress.) But, it's funny because it's generally me who starts it. I don't try to, of course. I'm just honest and forward with my opinion, which does not always lead to perfect harmony.
P.S. In my last comments, I pointed out many of my flaws: Paranoia, minor OCD-ish traits, emotional rants, too much attention to detail etc. Other problems have also been brought up in recent conversations with people in life. For example, inability to comprehend other people's emotions, being unaware of basic things due to my poor observational skills and a different thought process than the average person. (My dad was talking to me about how I have to work on my people skills, since I generally fail miserably; my sympathy button is broken. He brought up the scenario that another girl in school gets her period in the middle of class, but doesn't notice and has blood dripping down her leg. He then asks me for my response to the situation. I say that I'll just tell her right there, to keep her from walking around like that all day. Then, he says that I just embarrassed her because I said it in front of other people. I then respond saying "Why is it embarrassing? It's just a basic bodily function." Apparently, this is not the right response, as my answer shocked him so much that he lost all his words.)
This has got me thinking that perhaps I am not entirely sane.
Yes.
My guess would be some big obnoxious rolly-machine from the Department of Sanitation. Seriously, that's what I saw all the time when I lived in the Human verse version of da Broncs, 20 years ago. Presumably a lower-tech one, though I could see some steampunk monstrosity like a less pretty version of the Flim-Flam Brothers' road engine.
The street-cleaning machines didn't actually change our seasons, but them made enough noise to do so. My dog found them absolutely terrifying when he was young, though when he was older he'd grasped that they weren't going to chase him up onto the sidewalk and calmed down.
I love this line.
Very nice! Traffic pegasi make sense as "eye in the sky" reporters, both police and news. The fact that the Ponies have a flighted Kind creates many such cultural anomalies as this: the key inspiration for such a development would be institutional rather than technological. What would be relevant would be a city large and concentrated enough to benefit from such services, and culturally-flexible enough that some Pegasi would be willing to do the job. Same with the traffic-cop unicorns. As I'm sure you know, in real life before the invention of the automatic traffic light, policemen actually manned busy intersections with lights or semaphore-like colored paddles and performed this function.
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(*nods*) In my chronology, "One Bad Apple" takes place in July 1503 and "Apple Family Reunion" in late September 1503, which -- with the school reference, makes "The Sidewalks of Noo Yoke" take place sometime in mid September 1503, assuming that the Noo Yoke Department of Education (this is a public school, that's what "P.S." means) works on a schedule similar to that of the city in which I grew up -- and that originally derived from the harvest scehdule, so it probably does).
Takes place at roughly the same time as "Wonderbolts Academy," in fact.
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It's kind of an obvious name, and in a total Equestrian population of well over 80 million Ponies, about half of whom are Earth Ponies (in my fanon) there is probably more than one "Cherry Blossom." Just as there is probably more than one "Apple Bloom" (my fanon mentions two, but Apple Bloom the Younger was deliberately named after her great-great-grandmother Apple Bloom the Elder; there are probably others in other branches of the Apple Clan). It's hardly a really unusual name, like "Beatrix Lulamoon" (though I'd bet there are other "Trixies" in existence).
As a native New Yorker, I find Babs' accent perfectly plausible. We kinda tawk like dis, y'know? In fact, the native New York accent is a combination of Dutch, Italian and Eastern European, having been repeatedly overlain by new waves of immigrants, with the oldest and most characteristic part being the Dutch (aka "Plattdeutsch" or "Low-German") influence. For instance the hardening of "th" into "d" is straight Low-German, note the cognates between English "the" and German "der," for instance. There's also a first person / second person plural distinction indifferently applied, as in "you there!" versus "hey youse guys."
Now of course, nopony in this story is "really" speaking any sort of English, but since Manehattan and the surrounding territories are meant to be the Pony equivalent of Manhattan and the Boroughs of New York, why not render the dialect as Bronx/Brooklyn inflected (Bronx and Brooklyn accents are very similar, though a native New Yorker can sometimes tell the difference, for instance a Brooklynite will say "erl" for "oil," which we from the Bronx will usually not do). Northern New Jersey is also kind of similar, the most famous example of its variance being the way that a Jerseyite will say "Joisy" for "Jersey." Southern New Jersey I've been found to be very different -- I've been out of the Barrens too long to describe the Piney twang.
I've been thinking about Central to Southern Jersey a bit because in The Romance of the Open Road, Trixie's going to go right into the equivalent of the Barrens and the Atlantic City Swamp. Yeah. In a science-fantasy world and a fanon influenced by the Cthulhu Mythos. You just know there's not going to be anything interesting for Trixie Lulamoon to encounter in there..