Let's try this, then.

by Thought Prism

First published

Thought Prism gets writer's block, so he creates a character and has her write a story for him.

Hi, Though Prism here. This is what happens when I need to write a story for a creative writing class and can't come up with anything else. Expect fourth-wall breaking shenanigans, enough sugar to sate Pinkie Pie, and some referential humor, all freshly converted to pony for your enjoyment.

I've got nothing to lose.

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Free Spirit was awakened by the sudden light coming into the room, tinting the insides of her eyelids. She sat up groggily in her bed, unceremoniously flinging the sheets off of her body. After rubbing the sand out of her eyes, she reluctantly opened them.

Much to her surprise, she was not in her room in her house. Instead, she seemed to be located in the middle of a featureless white void that stretched out in all directions. Apart from her bed, the only other thing she could see was her desk, a pad of paper resting upon it.

Thinking that she surely must have been dreaming, she swung her foreleg at the bedpost. The prick of pain which resulted was certainly real. Her heart began to beat faster in fear, and she looked around for… well, anything really.

After a short while, Free Spirit gave up, and tried a different approach. Standing up, she smoothed out her pajamas and gazed upwards. "Hello? Can anyone hear me?"

Being a nice guy, I replied. "Yes."

My voice startled her, and she flinched. She turned her head, trying and failing to pinpoint where I was speaking from. "Ok, who are you? And where am I?"

"Well, my name is Thought Prism, and I'm an author. Right now, you're in my story."

Free Spirit blinked, and her brow furrowed. She took the news better that I would, were I to be placed in her position. Then again, a filly her age wouldn't really have a grasp of existentialist philosophy.

Looking around again, she said "Well, don't things usually happen in stories? It's just me here."

"You're right. But this isn't an ordinary story," I said.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yeah. In this story, you are an author, and you are going to write a story over there."

Free Spirit hummed to herself. "That's weird. Why aren't you writing it?"

"Well, because the first story I tried to write ended up being a little too ambitious in scope, and I couldn't come up with anything else. I'm taking a creative writing class, you see, and my original idea would have ended up being like twenty five pages long once it was done. I had written five and hadn't even gotten to the main plot point that would have driven all the other events. And the rubric says it can't be more than fifteen pages."

"Oh. Ok." She paused. "Wait, isn't it cheating to get somepony else to do your homework for you?"

"Usually, it would be. But you aren't a real pony, Free Spirit. You're a character I created for the purpose of writing my story for me. It would be like if you built a robot that could do those annoying long division problems."

"But aren't robots hard too? I'd just write the story."

"It's not the same. I have writer's block, which means I don't have any good ideas right now. I could write something myself, but it wouldn't be good. You can't force art."

"But it's just homework. You just do it because you have to."

I sighed. "In college, you actually get to pick which classes to take. I picked this one because I like writing things I'm inspired to write."

"But now you're not anymore. So I'm doing the writing for you."

"That's about the size of it, yeah."

Free Spirit stood there for a moment, thinking. Eventually, she shrugged. "I got nothin'."

I stared at her from on high. "Really? You're giving up so soon? You don't have the same standards as me, your story can be anything. Talk about a time you played with a friend, or something."

"I don't have friends, though. I'm just a figment of your imagination. You'd have to give me some first."

"I suppose. But I have writer's block, remember? I can't."

"That what do I do?"

"I don't know! That's why you exist!"

She blinked. "But if you don't have any ideas, then how can I?"

I groaned. "You're right. Darn."

And then it hit me. "Wait, never mind, I got it! Free Spirit, as a perky little scamp, you should still have motivations. Since I'm so good at fleshing out characters, obviously. So I guess the story can just be me asking you what you want, and then I'll make it so."

Free Spirit gasped. "Like a genie?"

"Yes, like a genie. Or a fairy, or whatever grants more than three wishes. A well, maybe."

"Cool! Let's see… can I have ice cream?"

"What flavor?"

"Strawberry! With sprinkles!"

Suddenly, by the magnificent power or description vested to me, as an author, Free Spirit was holding a cone of fresh strawberry ice cream, covered in copious amounts of rainbow sprinkles.

"Yay!" With that, she dug in with gusto. By the time she had finished, many stray sprinkles were stuck to her cheeks, and she was giggling to herself.

"Now what?" I eagerly asked. I now realized that this surely must have been much more fun than actually having children.

Free Spirit cocked her head to the side in thought. Then she smiled wide. "A pet human! A soft one! Named Mr. Cuddles!"

"Sounds cute. Why not?"

I decided to be more dramatic this time and impress Free Spirit, and summoned a triple rainbow into existence, with the outermost one ending right at her feet. Cheery orchestral music started to play, and the stomping of feet could be heard in the distance. It was Mr. Cuddles, descending from the rainbow. His magnificent mullet billowed out behind him in wind that now existed as he jogged down. Behind him were a bunch of butterflies in different colors, flying in formation to spell out: FOR FREE SPIRIT.

She looked on in awe as the man arrived before her. He chuckled playfully, and started mussing up her head.

Free Spirit giggled, flailing her arms. "Stop! That tickles!"

Mr. Cuddles obeyed, pulling his hand back. He frowned, tapping the ground with his shoe.

Free Spirit's eyes widened. "You're sad? What did I do?"

"You aren't gonna hold him?" I asked. "Of course he'll be sad, he literally lives for snuggles."

Without replying to me, she rushed forwards and hugged Mr. Cuddles, ruffling his pants. It truly is better to give than to receive. Unless it's oral, but I'm not sharing that with Free Spirit. Hey, that's a good point, why didn't I make her older? Then she might have had some more interesting wishes. But I digress.

Now, Free Spirit was trying to climb on top of Mr. Cuddles' shoulders for a ride. She huffed adorably as her efforts failed, crossing her arms. But then there was a step ladder inexplicably in right front of her, and she eagerly mounted the human (no, not in that way, perverts) with a smile on her face.

"Giddy-up, Cuddles!" she exclaimed. "We're going to, uh, the Candy Castle! Can that be a thing?"

"Of course, Free Spirit. Gimmie a minute," I said. It looks like Free Spirit actually did have an idea for a story. I'd handle the setting. Let's see where she takes the plot.

In a flash of light, Free Spirit suddenly found herself in the middle of a vast forest, blue sky overhead. However, this was no ordinary forest. The trees all had the appearance of giant lollipops in various shapes and sizes. A path before her wound its way through it, and on the other side, looming in the distance, was a vast plain.

Free Spirit gazed upon her surroundings with wonder. "Woah."

"Well?" I asked.

She paused, staring down at the expectant Mr. Cuddles for a moment. Then, she smiled. "Let's go! The prince needs our help! Ya!"

Clenching his fists, Mr. Cuddles yelled loudly, running off along the trail. And so, the pair dashed along through the trees, determined to reach the castle in time. A flock of Peeps flew by unnoticed as Free Spirit pressed on.

When Mr. Cuddles and his master reached the end of the forest, they stopped. For standing in their way was a wide river of bubbly orange soda: the Fantasippi. Occasionally, Swedish Fish leapt from the surface.

Free Spirit furrowed her blow. "Hmm. I can't swim. Can you, Mr. Cuddles?"

He shook his head.

"Fiddlesticks! How are we gonna cross?" She looked up at the sky. "Thought Prism, why's there a river here?"

"Well," I began, "No harrowing adventure would be complete without obstacles for the heroine to overcome. And I'm not so cruel as to, say, sic a giant filly-eating gummy worm on you."

Free Spirit's eyes widened. She nodded. "Ok, thanks. But what do I do?"

"You've come this far. Think of something."

Free Spirit crossed her forelegs. "Hmm. Hmmmm… I got it! I'll call Captain Licorice for help. He's a superhero!"

I pondered this for a moment. "How?"

"I'm his, uh, niece. So he gave me an emergency signal wrist thingie."

She was now wearing an emergency signal wrist thingie. Giggling, Free Spirit pressed the small button on its side, and it started beeping.

A whooshing sound could be heard from the lollipop forest moments later. A tall figure wearing a bright red jumpsuit was swinging towards Free Spirit on conjured ropes. You, know, like Spider Man, but with licorice.

He landed next to Free Spirit's pet human, striking a triumphant pose on his back hooves. "If my niece is in a pinch, than I, the great Captain Licorice, shall always be there!" he proclaimed. "What's up?"

Free Spirit pointed at the raging Fantasippi.

Captain Licorice looked, and inferred the situation. "Ah, say no more. Behold!"

Reaching forwards with both legs, he fired a huge stream of his namesake candy out of them, one that flew out far enough to span the entire river. Once it stuck on the other side, the licorice knitted itself into a rope bridge.

"There you are, my dear," he said.

"Thanks!" Free Spirit said.

Captain Licorice reached down and nuzzled her. "I am afraid I cannot stay and chat: the evil Dr. Butterscotch's schemes aren't going to thwart themselves! Goodbye!" He then swung back into the trees and vanished.

Free Spirit ushered Mr. Cuddles onwards, clearly emboldened by her success. Perhaps she had realized that failure was nigh but impossible when she was pulling the strings of the world around her with my help. Or maybe she had truly embraced her role as the hero of her own story. In any case, she passed over the river, and into rolling hills and meadows, blades of taffy grass billowing in the breeze.

As she continued her journey, pressing on towards the castle, I asked "So, what exactly does the prince need your help with, anyway?"

Free Spirit wasn't even keeping her eyes on the road, instead taking in the new scenery I had painted. It was a moment before she registered I had asked her a question. "Oh, right. Well, uhh… he… needs my help to plan a holiday party! Because he's pretty stuffy. Good at ruling and law stuff, but not very fun. The nobles are all sad, and he wants them to be happy."

I chuckled. "As dire a situation as any. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to see you come aid him in his time of need."

She grinned. "Right!"

Some small towns were coming into view now, filled with chocolate ponies milling about between gingerbread houses. As she traveled through one, Free Spirit watched them, sending off friendly waves. Adults and children alike waved back, wishing her well before returning to their errands or play.

"Isn't this great, Mr. Cuddles? Everybody's nice here!" Free Spirit said.

Mr. Cuddles 'mm-hmm'ed in reply, continuing to plod on.

So preoccupied was she with people-watching that Free Spirit didn't even notice how close she was to her destination until she was mere feet from the main gate of a towering palace constructed entirely of the sturdiest peanut brittle. "Oh! We're here!"

A pair of spear-toting guards approached Free Spirit. "Halt! Who goes there?" the first said.

This prompted the second one to whack him upside the head. "You fool," he stage whispered, "that's Lady Free Spirit! The prince has been expecting her!" He then turned to face her, smiling, then bowed with a flourish. "Please, pardon Sir Spree for his insolence."

She giggled, waving with dismissal. "It's fine."

He rose. "Then allow me to escort you inside, your ladyship. Dismount, and Spree here will take your human to the stables."

"Ok. Thanks." Free Spirit slowly let go and plopped down on the paved ground. Giving Mr. Cuddles a goodbye nuzzle, she straightened her posture in an exaggerated approximation of royal poise. "Lead the way!"

Without another word, the guardstallion signaled that the gate be opened, and shepherded her inside the castle walls. They walked through a well-maintained but uninspired garden of candy plants towards the actual entrance. It was like the exact opposite of the first room of the factory from the Willy Wonka movie, completely devoid of whimsy.

Once inside, Free Spirit was greeted with further blandness in the form of a hallway, completely unadorned save for some candles. She was ushered straight ahead, only stopping when they reached another door.

Her escort pushed them open. "Announcing the arrival of Lady Free Spirit!"

Free Spirit's eyes followed the long fruit roll carpet up to the throne, where a handsome colt sat, clad in caramel regalia and fine robes of fudge. He stood up, and met her halfway as she approached.

The prince bowed his head to her. "Lady Free Spirit. Welcome to my palace. I am most grateful that you have come in my time of need."

She smiled at him. "Oh, it was no trouble at all, prince…"

"Toblerone," I supplied.

"Prince Toblerone," she said.

Unable to hear my voice, the prince continued. "Yes, well, as you know, I have only come into power recently with my father's retirement, and the annual Powdered Sugar Ball is to take place tomorrow afternoon. And I am unsure how to please the nobles properly after last year's disastrously boring outing. And so I turn to you."

Free Spirit nodded. "Don't worry! I'll help you. Everyone will have the most fun ever!"

Prince Toblerone returned her enthusiastic smile. "I am in your debt, Free Spirit. Now then." The prince clopped his hooves twice, and a large group of maids and butlers, around two dozen strong, formed up in a line off to the side. He turned to address them "See to it that Free Spirit receives everything she asks for as it pertains to the ball, as promptly as you are able. And prepare her quarters immediately."

As one, they replied "As you command, your highness."

He turned back to Free Spirit. "If you'll excuse me, I have other duties I must attend to."

"Ok Prince Toblerone. See you tomorrow!" Free Spirit waved him goodbye.

Things proceeded about as one would expect from there. Free Spirit, the adorable kid that she was, alternated between asking the palace staff questions about the ball and proposing her own improvements. With each instruction, a few of them would slink off to follow through with it, or provide feedback as to why such a thing would be inadvisable. Eventually, it became time for dinner, and she was treated to a veritable feast of sweet confections. Once the ensuing sugar rush had ended, she collapsed onto her marshmallow bed with a contented sigh, and fell asleep within seconds.

The next day, Free Spirit was awoken by the maids, and after freshening up was shown to a fitting room. There, the royal dressmaker presented her with a frilly purple gown fit for a princess. Just when it seemed like she couldn't wait any longer, the ball began.

When Free Spirit arrived, only a few well-dressed guests were present, so she had time to admire her handiwork. Smiling smugly, she saw the massive dicso ball hanging in the air above the dance floor, multicolored light from the towering ballroom's stained glass windows reflecting off of it in all directions. Dukes and Duchesses alike had already abandoned the brunch buffet to dance. Or course, many still conversed, so the fast-paced live music was kept quiet.

"Well," I began. "So far, this looks like a success. And they haven't even started any of your activities yet."

"Yeah! This'll be great, I can feel it!" she said, doing a little twirl in her dress.

"I'm sure. But there's also the matter of the ending we have yet to address."

More ponies were trickling in now, but Free Spirit didn't notice. "Huh?"

"Well, the story you've made for yourself is nearly over. And I won't be able to stay for much longer. I'm a busy stallion. Those research papers on commercial plastic anticounterfeiting aren't going to read themselves."

Her smile slowly faded. "But… what can I do?"

"That's for you to decide. Think of it as your last wish. Then, I'll have to go."

Her face scrunched up a bit. "Can I wait until after the ball?"

"Of course, sure."

So Free Spirit's thoughts returned to the world around her. She mingled and ate and frolicked with the guests, who treated her with respect and affection. When the prince arrived, she took his hoof and led him out to dance as dozens looked on in awe. They played charades, discussed critical tax code reforms, and partook in a game of musical chairs. And so it went, with Free Spirit in a state of joy the whole day. But there was a hint of something else behind her eyes I couldn't quite place.

As the festivities wound down, Free Spirit stood at the exit, wishing the nobles well. Eventually, the cavernous room was empty, and she gazed up at one of the windows, a portrait of an old king.

She took a deep breath. "I know what I want, now."

"Yeah?" I asked.

"These past few days have been amazing. Pretty perfect. The best days of my life. But… they're also the only days of my life." She sighed. "It's weird to be happy all the time. To get everything I want. It's… empty, here."

Huh. So she does understand. "I think I already know what you're going to ask."

Free Spirit nodded. "I want to be a real filly. And live in a real world, where stuff can go wrong, but also go right and surprise me."

"You're sure? The real world can be cruel, in ways you cannot even imagine."

She nodded again, firmly.

I gazed down on my character in pride and pity. "Ok."

A swirling portal of black energy appeared in the air before Free Spirit, and she flinched. Looking over, she was quickly transfixed.

"Step through there, and you'll be born as a foal on Equestria. My world. To be honest, this probably won't work unless the multiverse theory is correct. If it is, though, well, that'll mean this world you're leaving is equally real, only not as well-defined. If it isn't… you'll just die instantly."

Free Spirit was not swayed by this, either too stubborn or too faithful to relent. She stepped forward, and did not look away.

"Thanks, Thought Prism. This was a good story," she said.

"No, thank you, Free Spirit. You made a wonderful protagonist." Then, a moment later, I added "Good luck."

Free Spirit smiled, and she walked into the void.