> Dysphoria, Arc 1: Introductions
>  by thedarkprep
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> 1. The New Arrival
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Dysphoria 

Story by: thedarkprep

Arc 1: Introductions


1.  The New Arrival

Applejack struggled to free herself from the mud as a lightning bolt illuminated the sky. Thunderstorms are always a dangerous thing to contend with. The raw power of the rain, the winds, and the lightning alone make it so that ponies have to spend time reinforcing their homes and securing their things so that they’ll have something left once the final droplet falls. On the farm, this is even more so. While the water is very much appreciated so the crops can grow, the sheer supremacy of weather over pony-made materials was undeniable. The barn had to be reinforced, lest it be blown away by the high-speed winds of the storm. Trenches needed to be dug around the fields to stop excess water from rolling down the hills, washing away the seeds and harvest with them. All farm tools, usually kept outside for ready use, needed to be brought inside to avoid rust. Lastly, metal installments had to be checked and toughened on top of the buildings in order to ground possible incoming lightning strikes. Weather ponies were aware of these heavy responsibilities that each pony had to undertake with every heavy rainfall. As such, they announced severe storms nearly a month in advance to allow ponies to plan ahead. Life, however, was hardly as accommodating.

One of the drawbacks of Ponyville was its closeness to the terrifying Everfree forest, a land where trees grow on their own, animals fend for themselves, and weather goes unregulated. This means that aside from the occasional wild animal, ponies have to contend with random weather patterns and unaccounted winds, rain, and sometimes snow. Weather ponies are trained to deal with such weather and are usually sent in at first notice to disperse rogue clouds or redirect unfavorable wind currents, but there is only so much they can do. This storm came out of the Everfree without warning, and rapidly enveloped the entirety of the sky above Ponyville. The massive storm cloud brought back memories of the dragon smoke that had threatened to cover Ponyville in a hundred years of darkness. The rain was intense both in the downpour and its effect. Streets were flooded, the usually smooth and sturdy roads reduced to pits of mud; rivers surrounding Ponyville overflowed, and the idea of going outside went from laughable to terrifying. In all, it took about an hour. The winds were no better, having overturned trees and damaged the less sturdy houses within 30 minutes of when the storm began. 

Had the weather ponies noticed the storm when it was growing over the Everfree, or had the storm been less immense, they might have been able to do something about it. However, having had neither luxury, the best they could do was to head to their homes above the clouds before a piece of debris injured a wing, grounding them to find refuge in the watertorn world below. 

For the earth ponies, or in this case specifically Applejack, this lack of notice meant that the hours of work needed to be done while contending with the worst nature had to offer. 

“At least it’s almost over.”

Another lightning bolt struck, this time hitting the metal piece above the barn attached to a cable, leading the current to land harmlessly on the ground. Applejack was glad she had reinforced the electrical grounding piece last week, as the idea of doing so now was too dangerous to entertain. With no small effort she freed herself from the mud and pushed her cart into the barn for safekeeping. She looked out the barn door and indulged the idea of just staying put until the storm passed. However, there was no telling how long the rain might last, and her family might worry if she did not return. With the last of her chores behind her she left the barn, making sure it was secure from the elements, and headed home. That’s when she saw him.

She didn’t notice him at first; it’s hard to notice anything in this weather. As another bolt of lightning illuminated the field she noticed movement in the mud. She was at her doorstep and the thought of going back outside to investigate was not all that comforting. She almost decided to ignore it and go back inside but, as lightning struck again, she couldn’t deny what she saw. She rushed over to help. Lying in a puddle of mud and rainwater was a pegasus. The creature was completely black, which accounted for how hard the pegasus was to notice. In fact, they would have been perfectly camouflaged in the darkness were it not for the purple mane and tail, and the purple bag strapped across the pony’s back. He looked like a stallion, albeit it was hard to tell in the rain. He seemed about as big as she was, both in age and stature. On his flank was a book, which in itself was uncommon for a pegasus (pegasi tending to have weather or flight related cutie marks). And yet, this was not what caught the mare’s attention. 

She may not have been a medical pony but even she could tell just by looking at him that he was badly damaged. His wings were off center, which they would not normally be in a resting position. Both of them were damaged but one was most certainly broken. His dark body was covered in bruises, purple amongst the sea of black. One of his legs was sticking at an odd angle, probably dislocated and not broken, since the break seemed to be at a joint. Dark blood was matted on his purple mane, which, thanks to the rain, gave the illusion that he was bleeding from a fresh cut. Worst of all, he did not seem to notice Applejack as she stood beside him. The stallion kept crawling despite his injuries on the road towards the town that lay ahead. His mouth was moving, but no sounds came out. 

Applejack yelled, “Mister! What’s wrong? We need to get inside from the rain!” 

There was no response. Instead, the pony just kept struggling against the mud, the rain, and the broken appendages until he could not do so anymore. Exhausted, he turned to lie on his side, putting his weight off of his most injured leg. That’s when he noticed her for the first time. His eyes widened as he realized he was not alone and a quiet calm overtook him.

“Please help me,” he muttered before exhaustion finally kicked in. His world enveloped in black.

> 2. Small Talk
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




2. Small Talk

Although the pony with the purple mane had woken up what felt like an hour ago, he had still not opened his eyes. It was the pain that had woken him from his dreams, starting first as a small discomfort that grew exponentially with each ticking of the clock until he was ripped from his dreamland and into the throes of reality. And yet here he laid still, eyes closed, hoping to regain entry to his world of sleep. After a few extra moments he abandoned his pursuit and opened his eyes. He was in a small room, laying on a simple bed without covers and one pillow. Light shone in through the window, telling him it was morning and that the storm had passed.

“Wait, what storm? Had that been real?” He thought to himself as he scanned the rest of the room. A clock was hanging from the wall to his right and there was a door on the wall opposite to him. His purple bag lay unopened next to the bed. A portrait hung on the wall to his left, next to the window, consisting of a large number of earth ponies standing in front of a barn. 

“One of them must be the owner of this house,” he thought. He then turned his attention to look at himself. He was surprised at what he found. Both his wings were bandaged next to his sides. His dislocated leg had been put back in place and was placed in a cast to heal without disruptions. His head was also bandaged with a few small bandages covering the few cuts he had sustained.

“Strange, that I don’t remember being bandaged. In the state I was in, it must have been about as painful as it was to get injured,” he thought, then hesitated. He clenched his jaw as he fought to repress the memory he had accidentally sparked. “Maybe not.”

He shook himself out of his stupor and began to analyze his situation.

“I am still injured, but somepony has taken it upon themselves to bandage me. There was a storm last night; I was on my way to a town when I blacked out. I am not sure if I made it there or not. I am in somepony’s house, probably a spare bedroom; they are probably the ones who bandaged me. I am unable to move but out of any immediate danger. The pain is manageable. My bag is here and has not been opened.”

He ran that list through his head again making sure he hadn’t missed an important detail.

“Oh, and I’m alive I guess.”

“And you’re talking to yourself; probably don’t want to leave that out.”

He looked up and saw an orange mare with blonde hair and a cowboy hat looking at him from the doorway. He was surprised at how quietly she had opened the door and walked into the room, but then remembered that he was expected to be unconscious and therefore she probably had been trying not to wake him. He stared for a second, analyzing her. She looked familiar. He looked at the picture on his left and spotted her amongst the ponies, thinking maybe that’s from where he recognized her, before a memory from the storm came back. She had been the last thing he saw before he blacked out; he was probably staring at his savior.

“Thank you for taking me in and bandaging me; I know it must have been a hassle, but you probably saved my life.”

“I don’t know about all that. I just found a hurt pony out in the rain and gave them a roof over their head. Nurse Redheart is the one that patched you up while you were unconscious.”

“Then I’ll make sure to thank her as well, but that doesn’t excuse you from my gratitude.”

“Whatever you say, sugarcube.” Applejack walked up to sit near the bedside. “I reckon you have a couple of questions you want to ask, if that list you were making is any indication. I have a couple of questions myself that I would like answered if you don’t mind.”

“Yea, I guess you’re right. Where am I?” he asked.

“Why, this here is Sweet Apple Acres, the finest Apple Orchard in all of Equestria, despite what Appleloosa would have you believe. We are just a few minutes out from Ponyville.”

“I guess that’s that town I saw. That means I didn’t make it there,” he commented.

“Not out of lack of trying, mind you. When I found you, you were still crawling and trying to make your way there despite your injuries. Why were you trying to get to Ponyville so badly?” Applejack asked.

“It wasn’t Ponyville per se that I was trying to reach, just any town where I might find some help with my injuries.”

“Makes sense.”

“How long have I been here, and who knows I’m here?” he asked. 

Applejack eyed him curiously. Though he was calm in his expression, she couldn’t help identifying the apprehension in his voice. Maybe it was the way he looked out the window as he asked, or how his tone shifted away from a conversational tone and into the tone he had used while making his mental list. In either case, she was intrigued.

“You’ve only been here for a night. That awful storm was yesterday and as soon as it started to die down, I sent word to the Ponyville General Hospital that we had an injured pegasus. Nurse Redheart came to patch you up then left.” She thought for a minute, “that means that in total six ponies know you are here, counting my family, nurse Redheart, myself, and you.”

“Fair enough, you said you had questions?”

“Yea I do. For starters, how did you get banged up so badly?” Applejack asked. The pony looked out the window again before answering.

“I was attacked by a Manticore a few ways back. It did most of the damage; the rest was caused by me traveling with injured limbs.” Applejack eyed him suspiciously, but chose to ignore the hoof shaped bruise on his cheek. Instead she asked another question.

“Nurse Redheart says that it looks like you have been carrying these injuries for a while. In fact, she was surprised you were still alive with how much exposure your more severe cuts have seen. Not to mention your broken wing which had begun to heal at a wrong angle before she fixed it. How long ago did you get hurt and why didn’t you get help sooner?” 

“There are no towns between here and Canterlot and, while I was closer to Canterlot when I was attacked, I couldn’t go up the mountain as injured as I was. The journey here was a slow one due to my injuries.” 

Applejack stared in shock.

“You traveled here from the base of the Canterlot Mountain with broken wings and a dislocated leg?” she asked incredulously.

“More or less,” he stared out the window again as Applejack gathered her thoughts.

“Who are you running from?” Applejack had to admit that it was a weird question to ask, one that might be answered with confusion. However, it was not confusion that Applejack noticed on the pony’s face. It was fear and shock.

“I’m not running from anypony,” he said. Applejack raised an eyebrow. With a surge of guilt, he continued, “that is to say, no one is chasing me. As far as I know, no pony is looking for me, but I still don’t want to be found.” 

The pony looked out the window again and gave a soft sigh. 

“Actually, I would appreciate if you did not tell anypony that I’m here. I’ll be out of your hooves before long so if you could keep me a secret until then I’d be eternally grateful.” 

Applejack gave him a soft smile before she spoke.

“Don’t worry, no pony will know you’re here and please don’t worry about being out of my hooves. It really is no trouble having you here. The first priority is for you to get better. Once that happens you are always welcome to stay here in the farm and work, or free to move on to Ponyville or some other place. But really, don’t go thinking you’re a burden or something like that; you are welcome here.” 

The pony looked at her with surprise on his face. “Why are you being so kind?” he asked.

“The way I figure it, you don’t have a place to go; otherwise you would’ve headed there instead of some town you don’t know. We have extra rooms and more than enough work for a few extra set of hooves, so it’s no trouble at all,” she responded.

“Thank you so much. I know I must be hard to trust, but I promise I won’t let you down. Speaking of trust, I notice you did not open my bag. Seems weird considering you did not know who I was; I figured the first thing ponies do in that situation is check their stuff.”

“A pony’s business is their own until they feel like sharing it with others,” she responded. The pony wasn’t sure if Applejack was responding to his first or second statement. 

“What’s your name?” he asked, realizing it had not come up yet.

“I’m Applejack. What’s your name?” Suddenly the pony looked tense, as if surprised that he had been asked. After a moment of hesitation he responded, “Script.” 

Applejack cast a throwaway glance at the purple bag sitting next to the bed, the bag she had helped carry last night, and the bag she knew said, “property of Slant Rhyme.” She returned her gaze back to the pony on the bed.

“Nice to meet you Script. Now, I’m sure you’re probably mighty hungry, but you’re in no shape to go downstairs. Do you want me to bring you anything?”

“No it’s ok, I am hungry but right now I’m even more tired. I think I’ll go back to sleep if that’s ok.” Applejack nodded.

“Whatever works for you, sugarcube, just call me if you need anything.” 

With that she left the room closing the door behind her. Script was obviously keeping secrets from her, but she couldn’t help but trust that he had no bad intentions. She would still go by the town to make sure there were no wanted posters for a pony named Slant or Script fitting his description, but after that she did not feel the need to involve anypony else. Stepping out of her house, she decided she would stop by town later. Right now there were chores to be done.

Inside the house, Script spent some time going over the conversation in his head. He had made a few blunders but nothing dangerous. Besides, Applejack was either too trusting to pick up on his hesitation, or too polite to point it out. He looked out the window again.

“Maybe I could stay in this Ponyville. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”

With that final thought he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

> 3. Party of None
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

3. Party of None

Script sat at a desk with a wide variety of papers in front of him. These papers had information regarding the day-to-day handling of business at Sweet Apple Acres. Everything from the everyday chores that kept the farm running to the seasonal events, such as the Zap Apple Jam sales or the Cider Sales, were clearly detailed in print. Each page contained dates, expected costs, yields, profits, and risks (environmental or otherwise) associated with every aspect of working in and for the farm. Script’s job was to take all this information and make it more efficient.

It had been a couple of weeks since his unexpected arrival at Sweet Apple Acres. He was bedridden for the first few days, but he soon recovered and found himself anxious to start earning his keep. His first attempt at doing so was the day after his cast came off his leg. That day he went out to the farm to help Applejack buck apples off of the trees. After she explained the technique associated with bucking apples and the process with which they worked the field, he attempted to do so. Attempted because it soon proved to be a futile pursuit. He copied the technique perfectly, landing a buck slightly higher than center to maximize the shaking of the tree. However, the tree barely moved and not a single apple fell. Applejack gave him some pointers, though there was very little she could say to improve his technique other than “kick harder.” Still, with the new advice, he tried again, and again the tree stood still. He tried a couple of more times, breaking a heavy sweat at the sheer effort he put forth, but at the end of his attempts he walked away from the tree; the baskets at the bottom of the tree remained empty. He tried his hand at a couple of other tasks after that, but he found that he was not strong enough for most of them.

He had been depressed for the rest of the day, and angry at being unable to help out the way it was expected. In his gloom he had only been half paying attention to the conversation in which Applejack had been complaining about working on the furthest field, and how she was going to have to start working that field first since it always got too dark by the time she got to it (which was going to throw off her normal field rotation). Script stared down at his food and suggested she keep her route the same and only reversed the direction when she got to that last field, since the hill it sat on was cutting off light before the sun had actually set.

He had given this suggestion as an offhand thought, but the next day Applejack tried it with great results. From then on, Script had been hired as a business consultant, tasked with going around the farm looking for ways in which to make the farm more efficient and increase profits without sacrificing quality. He had been hesitant to take the job at first, feeling awkward being paid for his suggestions, but it seemed that he had a knack for it, his suggestions and planning having had increased the Apple’s storage capacity, streamlined their irrigation system, and helped make their process for making cider more efficient, without really changing the way the Apple family ran things. Each suggestion was small, but meaningful, and they each stacked up to make significant improvements to the working of the farm. 

He was also not just making suggestions and planning changes. He made it a point to tell Applejack everything he knew and how he arrived to each decision, helping her to be able to pick out problems and find fixes by herself in the future. The job would not last forever, since eventually he would run out of things to fix, but until he did he was happy to be employed by the Apples. The only thing that bothered him is that they were not only paying him for his work, but also providing him with free room and board. This didn’t sit well with him because he had come to think of Applejack as a friend and he didn’t want to take advantage of that friendship. Instead, he decided to find a small apartment or house he could afford with the wages earned at the farm. The one he found was a small but cozy house, made for a single pony. The only drawback was that it was in the middle of Ponyville. 

True to her word, Applejack had not told anypony about Script’s existence. Whenever her friends would come over or somepony would come to talk business with the mare, Script had gone to hide in his room until it was safe to come out again. Moving to Ponyville meant risking being found, but he found himself less nervous about that now. This move would be a good thing. 

Today was his first day moving into his new place, having had the furniture he bought moved in for him yesterday. It was with that thought that he finalized his report on suggestions and fixes, which he put on the desk for Big Mac to look over later. With that he walked to the barn to inform Applejack that he was done for the day, only to find the place empty. He turned to leave, thinking of where else she could be when he found himself face-to-face with a mare he had never seen before.

“YOU!!!” said the mare. 

Script stared at her, worry trumped out by sheer surprise. 

“Me?” he responded. 

He studied her for a second. She was a pink mare with a bouncy mane, huge eyes, and the biggest smile he had ever seen. He did not know why, but she made him nervous. Something about the way she had sneaked up on him, the way she appeared out of nowhere, and the alligator on her back raised red flags in his mind. She could be dangerous.

“You must be the new pony in Ponyville! I am soo excited to meet you. I know everypony in town, and I do mean everypony, so I found it really weird when I saw somepony moving to the abandoned house by the square, I mean, they don’t call it ‘the abandoned house’ for nothing, which means that I have to come up with a new name for it now that somepony lives there; but anyway, I saw them moving furniture there yesterday meaning somepony was moving in, and if somepony is moving in then it had to be somepony new because all the ponies I know already had houses which aren’t the abandoned one, so I got really excited that I was going to meet a new pony and I wanted to introduce myself but I didn’t know who you were or where you were so after they were done moving in the stuff I broke into the place to wait for you to come back so I could say hi, but you never stopped by so then I went to the pony that leases houses and asked her what she knew about you and she said that she couldn’t give me any information because of  ‘privacy laws’ no matter how much I wanted to meet them, and she was completely serious too because when I bribed her with cupcakes all she told me is that you worked at the farm, so I came to the farm and saw a pony I’d never seen before walking around, so I got my detective hat, put 4 and 12 together and figured out you were the new pony! So then I stalked you and waited for you to turn around and here we are!” 

Script stared for a second. “You broke into my house?”

“Yea, sorry about that. It was important.”

“And the alligator?” 

“Oh, he’s my pet alligator Gummy. He loves meeting new ponies so I brought him along. Hi Applejack!” Script looked around seeing no one.

“What..?”

“Hey Script, you might want to hide, word around town is that one of my friends is trying to find you and she’s... oh, hi Pinkie.” Applejack said. 

Pinkie just giggled. Script looked between the two trying to make sense of things.

“So, Pinkie right?”

“Yep, Pinkie’s my name, or Pinkamena Diane Pie for long. What’s your name?” 

Script was in too much shock to be suspicious at the moment. “Script.”

“Well, Script, I have just one question for you.” Pinkie said before taking a deep breath, “CAN I PLEASE BE INVITED TO YOUR HOUSE WARMING PARTY PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE MEGA SUPER QUANTOM PLEASE!!?”

Yelling aside, the words did manage to be deciphered by Script’s brain, snapping him from the surreal daze he had found himself in.

“No” Script said. Immediately Pinkie’s smile was replaced by a frown and watery eyes. Script recovered quickly from the shock of her reaction, speaking as apologetically as possible.

“No No No, it’s not because I don’t want to invite you, it’s nothing personal. I’m sure you’re a great mare, I’m just not having a house warming party is all.” 

Pinkie stared at him with confusion. “No party?”

“No no party, sorry. Now, It’s been a pleasure meeting you, it’s been… interesting. However, I do have a couple things I need to do if I want to have everything ready to move into my place tonight,” Script said. Turning then to Applejack, “I’m done with going over the paperwork, I’m not sure there’s anything I can do for the Zap Apple Jam harvest or sales, it seems like you’re doing everything perfectly already; however, I did find suggestions for the regular harvest and Cider production that will boost profits by 20%. You’ll have to hire 3 to 4 pegasi for it, but the amount you will have to pay them will be nothing compared to the boost in income you will get. The report is on the desk if you and Mac want to take a look at it.”

“Thank you kindly, I’ll make sure to take a look at it. Now go get yourself ready to move into your own place. I have to say I’ll miss you being around though,” Applejack said.

“Don’t worry; you’ll still see me every day until I run out of things to fix up around here. In any case, thank you for having me here for as long as you did. It’s been a pleasure to get to know you and your family. See you tomorrow, ok?” And with that, Script left the barn.

Applejack watched him leave, waving goodbye before turning to look at her pink friend. Pinkie looked as most ponies do when trying to solve a hard math problem.

“Why no party? How no party?” Pinkie was moving her hooves, the look of concentration on her face showcasing the amount of energy it was taking her to comprehend this foreign concept. Applejack was amused.

“Look Pinkie not everypony is social and likes having parties. Some ponies just want to be left alone.” 

Applejack realized she made a mistake as soon as those words left her lips. Pinkie’s eyes were starting to part as the strain of integrating this new concept into her schema threatened to break her. It was time to backpedal.

“Pinkie, Pinkie, pay attention, look at me, look, it’s just that he doesn’t really have any friends here, he’s new and all and doesn’t want to invite strangers into his home just yet. He wants to get to know them before he does. He’s very shy, like Fluttershy, so it’s going to take some time, once he’s comfortable with ponies, then there will be a party.” 

Applejack stared at Pinkie the way most would stare at a ticking time bomb, waiting to see if it had been disarmed or if it would explode. To Applejack’s relief, it seemed she would not have rebuild the barn.

“So he’s shy, and wants to meet ponies and make friends, before the party can take place,” Pinkie worked through the explanation.

“Yes Pinkie, he’s shy” Applejack repeated.

“Is that why he goes out at night and stares at the Royal Castle for hours on end?”

“He does what now?”

“Well it’s been nice talking to you but I have preparations to make,” Pinkie said as she left the barn.

“Now hold on just one minute...” Applejack followed after her but when she stepped out of the barn she saw no trace of her. Pinkie and Gummy were gone.

An hour later Pinkie was walking through the market square of Ponyville after dropping off Gummy in her room. She was lost in thought, trying to figure out a solution to this new predicament.

“Ok what do we know? We know that there is a new pony in town, Script. He has no friends aside from Applejack and me. He is shy. He wants to meet ponies. He doesn’t want to throw a party until he meets the ponies at the party. He is lefthooved.” Pinkie stopped to make sure that’s all the relevant information she knew before continuing, “What else do we know? Parties are awesome in and of themselves. Parties are also awesome places to meet ponies. The same type of ponies Script wants to meet, but he wants to meet them before he invites them. So there’s the problem. How does he throw a party to meet ponies he hasn’t met yet so he can invite them to that party he wants to throw?”

Pinkie sat at a table, enjoying a milkshake as she thought.

“Mmm, brain food…” 

Then suddenly a thought struck her. She had been soo preoccupied with the concept of the possibility that somepony in the world might not want a party that she completely missed the problem in semantics. 

“He wants to meet ponies, ponies are met at parties, and he doesn’t want to throw a party until he’s met the ponies he wants to invite. Pause for dramatic effect…” Pinkie took a deep breath and then smiled.

“Somepony else will have to throw a party for him.”





Script had finished his preparations and was ready to head out to his new place, but was invited to stay for one last dinner at the Apple’s place. The food was delicious as always, which was the reason why he reminded himself to make good on their offer that ‘he was welcome for dinner anytime’ every once a while.  Big Mac thanked Script for his work on the plans from earlier, having had a chance to look them over, commenting that what they were paying him was a steal compared to the bits he was making them. Script waved off the compliment by saying that it was nothing special; he just had the free time to look for the fixes since he was too weak to be out bucking trees with the rest of them. The conversation shifted through a lot of topics, including harvesting talk, Applebloom’s day at school, and a half-hour conversation in which the Apple family tried to explain who exactly Script had met that day.

“The best guess we have is that she was a unicorn that got her horn removed but somehow kept her magic, in which case, it’d be a teleportation spell without the light and sound that usually accompany it, but we checked her birth certificate and she was born an earth pony. Still, even with that information it’s still the most...” Applejack was interrupted by a carefully thrown rock that went through the open window, bounced off of her hat, and into her pie. The rock had writing on it. Come outside, alone. 

Applejack sighed. “Speaking of, hold on a moment, I’ll be right back.” 

Script and Mac struck up a conversation on the Zap Apple jam process and any way they could improve it without disrupting it while Applejack walked outside.

Once outside, Applejack saw only darkness. Then she heard Pinkie’s voice.

“Are you alone?”

“Um... yes?”

Pinkie jumped out of the bush in her spy suit. She handed Applejack an envelope.

“Shhhhhh,” was all that Pinkie said before she jumped back into the bush and ran away, bush and all.

Applejack stared for a second before turning her attention to the envelope. It said, For Applejack’s, Pinkie’s, and Gummy’s eyes only! She took a deep breath and opened it, reading the letter inside.

“Oh no.”





The Apple family gathered around Script as he read the letter Applejack had received.




You are cordially invited to a surprise party for Ponyville’s newest resident, Script, at the house near the market square formally known as ‘abandoned’ (the house not the square). We will go inside the house at around 9; he should be there at around 10, at which point the party will start.

Please help me welcome Ponyville’s new shy resident.

-Pinkie Pie

P.S. It’s not breaking and entering if you yell “Surprise” when they show up.


Script re-read the letter (or, rather, the invitation) before addressing Applejack. 

“So… what happened?”

“I may have told Pinkie that you didn’t want to throw a party until you met ponies first because you were shy and didn’t want to invite anypony you didn’t know. I figure she took that to mean that it’d be ok if somepony else, namely her, threw the party for you since it wouldn’t be you inviting the ponies.”

“I take it I can’t really escape this, can I?” 

“Honestly? No. I’m sorry, sugarcube, but at this point she’ll have invited the entire town to come out. You could not go home tonight and skip the party, but that will mean that all the ponies in town will be curious about you and will probably seek you out of their own accord.”

“Perfect. Well, I guess it’s unavoidable.” 

Applejack noticed the tension in his voice. He tried to stay calm and not show how much this bothered him, but he was either really bad at it, or it bothered him so much that as good as he was, some was bound to show.

“Well, I have all my stuff. I’ll go for a walk and then head there. Thank you for the dinner.” He grabbed his purple bag and left the kitchen.

Script walked out by the northern field to clear his head. He was sure that he came off as angry, but that wasn’t the case at all. Applejack did the best she could with the situation and Pinkie did not know any better and had the best of intentions. No, it wasn’t anger; it was more like panic, and despair.

“I was really looking forward to staying here in Ponyville…” he said to no one in particular. He looked up towards the mountain on the horizon. 

“This is a small town, maybe they haven’t heard. Maybe no one will recognize me. Maybe it’ll be safe.” He gave a mirthless laugh, “Yeah, maybe.” 

He sat down; suddenly feeling exhausted, and placed his bag next to him. He stared at it for a long while in silence.

“Somepony’s bound to have heard by now. I could run… I could run away. Find a new town, a new life,” tears rolled down his cheek, illuminated by the moon, “now that I have experience.”

He looked at the Apple house, what had become his home. He couldn’t leave them. Applejack, Big Mac, even Pinkie. They were friends. He’d have to take the chance and hope for the best. He flexed his wings.

“Good, I’m recovered enough that I could fly away if needed. Everything of value is in this bag already,” he thought to himself. He knew he had half an hour to go before he was expected back home. He decided he would take the scenic route to kill time and, with dread in his heart and panic in his mind, he set off towards his new home.

Pinkie’s head slowly rose from some nearby bushes. Her usual smile was gone and replaced with a frown. She had intended to rope Script into both a conversation and shenanigans, and then walk him home to ensure he would arrive at the proper time. Now she simply watched and stared as the purple-maned pegasus walked away. 

“This is all wrong. Script isn’t just shy around new ponies. He’s scared. I still don’t know why, but he’s scared of something. Of meeting these new ponies I guess… And now I’ve gone and upset him.” Pinkie let her gaze droop before inspiration struck. “Pinkamena, you have work to do.”





Script arrived at his place and stood in front of the door. Everything was dark and quiet. He had not run into anypony yet, but he assumed that was because he was about to run into every one of them. With fearful resignation he put the key in the door, opened it, and waited.

Seconds ticked by without anything happening.

He walked into the house but still nothing happened. The dark room remained dark, the silence undisturbed. He closed the door behind him and turned on the light. There was no one in there but himself. Despite the shock and confusion his heartbeat steadied. He put his bag down on a cushion and inspected the room, looking at the full-length mirror by the stairs, the furniture, and the kitchen. His eyes focused in on his dinner table. On it, there was a stack of envelopes and a tray of cupcakes with unlit candles on them. He started opening the envelopes, skimming the letters within. He’d need to take the time to actually read them to be sure, but it seemed like they were letters from the residents of Ponyville, each of them listing things about themselves and welcoming him into town. He was about to read one when he was distracted by a knock at the door. 

Slowly he approached the door. After a second of hesitation he opened it to find a very sad-looking pink pony standing at his doorstep. 

“Hey Script, do you have a second to talk?” Script looked around, seeing she was alone, and looked back at her. Her eyes were downcast. It struck him that, despite only having had known her for a day, it seemed unnatural for her to be sad.

“Yeah Pinkie, what’s up?”

“I want to apologize for what I did today. I messed up and I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok Pinkie, you didn’t mean to,” he assured her.

“It was still wrong and I want to talk about it, if it’s ok with you…” 

Script studied her for a second.

“Yea yea, that’s fine. Let’s talk,” Script stepped aside to allow Pinkie in but she did not move, instead she just stared at him with a confused look on her face.

“Why are you not coming in Pinkie?” he asked.

“Because you only invite in ponies you’re friends with already.” 

He stared in disbelief. Somehow she knew how upset he had been, and she felt this bad about it despite only knowing him for less than twenty-four hours.

“Pinkie, would you please come inside?” he said “Please?” She took a few tentative steps inside, allowing Script to close the door behind her.

“Ok Pinkie, what’s wrong?” Pinkie took a second to gather her thoughts before launching into her explanation.

“You told me you didn’t want a party, and I thought you misspoke because I thought I knew you. In my mind everypony loves parties, and friends, and being surrounded by ponies. I thought for sure that you had meant that you wanted somepony else to invite them or maybe you were nervous about meeting new ponies. But you weren’t:  you were afraid.” Script was nervous about how she could possibly know that, but decided against asking. Instead he let her continue. 

“I assumed I knew best, I disregarded your feelings, and I hurt you. I don’t know why you are afraid of ponies, and it doesn’t really matter. All that matters is that I did the exact opposite of what you wanted; I made you feel fear, and you almost left. I think you are a good pony, and I want to be your friend. But if you don’t want to, then at least don’t leave. Give other ponies a chance and don’t let me be the reason you leave Ponyville.” 

She sat there in silence waiting for his response while Script took all that in. He smiled.

“Pinkie, we are friends. I’m not going anywhere.” 

The pink pony brightened up at that and returned to her cheery self. This put Script at ease. It seemed more natural. Then the table he spotted out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.

“I do have one question:  what’s all this?” he asked.

“Oh, that. Well, when I found out… what happened when you found out, I rushed back here to cancel the party. I told everypony that you were actually shyer than I anticipated and that I was sorry I had to cancel the party but that I felt it was for the best. I also asked them to please not bother you at home or if they saw you out and about. That it was fine to be friendly and that you were a really friendly pony, but that it was best if they waited for you to come to them. Since they were all here, though, I had the idea of having them write letters to you introducing themselves and welcoming you to Ponyville, you know, instead of a party. That way you still get to meet all the ponies, kind of, and they still get to greet you. I hope that was okay...” Pinkie looked at Script with worry in her eyes.

Script looked in amazement at the letters on the table, and then back to the pony.

“It’s more than okay, it’s wonderful.” Script gave Pinkie a hug which she cheerily returned.

“Thank you Pinkie.”

Maybe everything would turn out ok.

> 4. Letters
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


4. Letters

A couple of days had passed since Script moved into his new place. The house, certainly had adopted his personality, having a ‘lived-in’ feel that had been missing when he first arrived. What few belongings he had had were stored, the new things he had bought had been used, and while still tidy, each of the rooms had one of those requisite messes necessary to make a house a home (a scarf out of place here, a pillow on the floor there, etc…). His bag had been stored away in his closet for safekeeping. In his living room, there was a trashcan overflowing with broken envelopes. The chair next to it had a stack of neatly folded letters. In the room there was also a table on which rested one envelope and one letter, separate from the rest. In front of it, there was a couch and it was on this couch that Script could be found lying down, lost in his thoughts.

Script was trying to calm his feelings, or at the very least understand them, neither of which he was having good luck with. Life was moving too fast and he was having trouble keeping up. As they say, change begets change, and no place was this more evident than in Ponyville. Ever since he arrived he found surprises around every turn, all of which firmly and consistently put him out of his comfort zone. Meeting Applejack for example, the pony that saved his life, begat a strange dynamic indeed. She was the first mare he saw in Ponyville, the one that saved him and the first one to ask about him. The first one he lied to. Through that entire conversation he got the feeling that she knew he was lying, as if she could somehow sort honesty and deceit like they were physical things rather than the abstract ideas they represent. And yet, though she knew he was lying, she didn’t question it; she let things be, and she put her trust on him. It made him appreciate her even more.

Then there was Pinkie, the Pony who didn’t ask questions and yet seemed to know everything about him already. Well, not everything… she wouldn’t be as friendly if she did. That was a chilling thought, a non-friendly Pinkie. No, it’s impossible; somehow, even if she knew, she’d still be there with that smile and her laugh. It’s in her character; it’s who she is. Still, better not to risk it.

Script looked at the letters on the chair, each neatly folded after having been read, each from a pony welcoming him with open hooves to their community. Despite his weird behavior and despite Pinkie having called off the party, they all still wanted to meet him. Some wrote on their letters that they understood where he was coming from, and that they hoped he’d pay them a visit when he’s well and ready. They shared things about themselves in the letters, their likes and dislikes, a bit of their history, and an invitation to be friends. They all seemed genuinely excited to meet him.

“Ponyville is such a wonderful place,” he thought to himself. He had never met such welcoming ponies or such a vibrant town. He knew now, if he hadn’t been sure before, that he didn’t want to leave this town. It was slowly but surely becoming home. And yet…  

Script sat up, physically shaking his head as if that could dispel his thoughts. He knew he should be happy:  he could relax here, make a life here. Still, he couldn’t shake the cloud of worry that plagued his mind. As much of a home as this was becoming, he was still hiding. As much as the friendship of these ponies had helped heal him, new wounds arrived with his nighttime dreams. He shook his head again, trying to derail his train of thought, but it continued undeterred. Fear and anxiety gripped at him, and as much as he slowed his breathing, his heart rate sped up faster and faster. 

He loved this new life he had crafted for himself, he loved this town, and he loved his new friends. But the truth was that all that could be shattered in a matter of days, if not hours. It had happened before, and he knew how easily he could be ripped out from a life he enjoyed. He could not postpone the source of his worry any longer.

“Ponyville is such a wonderful place,” he thought to himself, “and yet…” He stared at the letter on the table. “Even here there is danger.”

He had not read the letter itself, just the first two lines, but those lines gave him all the information he needed to know about the writer and the danger they posed to him. The fear that letter instilled in him crippled him now as it had when he had first opened it, forcing him to stay at home where he was safe. However, this time he was not going to let fear win.

“When fear forces you to play it safe, you have to take a few risks,” he muttered to himself before exiting the room leaving the letter and the envelope on the table.

The letter itself was written on some scroll paper in fine handwriting. The first two lines said:


Hello, and welcome to our little town of Ponyville. 
My name is Twilight Sparkle.


> 5. The Mare in the Torn Dress
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


5. The Mare in the Torn Dress

As perfect as Ponyville may have seemed, it took on a new beauty after dark. The soft breeze caressed the grass, forming ripples that crossed amongst the parks and hills, which were in turn illuminated by the cool rays of moonlight while the stars flickered like candles in the sky. And yet, no one was out to admire the night, save for one sole mare walking down the street. The lack of interest in the night was not a new problem; after all, this was the fuel that sparked Nightmare Moon’s fire and anger a bit over a thousand years ago. It was not even a problem that survived well into this stage of Celestia’s reign, with some of the bigger cities like Canterlot and Los Pegasus having adopted a need for nightlife in the forms of clubs and entertainment. And yet, it was still mystifying to that mare that amongst all the beauty that could be found that night, the only sound she heard was her own hoof steps.

Mystifying as it was, it was also comforting. The mare loved to come out at night; she found comfort in the solitude, a feeling of safety under Luna’s watchful eye. The silence calmed her. She walked to a bench to watch the moon for a while, noting every crater. She was awestruck by its beauty, and would often refer to it in her mind as the superior celestial body. After all, the moon (unlike the sun) would not harm those who looked upon her splendor. The moon was low to the ground now, almost completing its descent. Behind her, a few rays of light could be seen. Sunrise. The mare took a deep breath and prepared to go home. Soon the early risers would be heading off to their jobs, and as much fun as it is dealing with those cheery ponies that wake up with both energy and a smile, she would prefer to avoid them.

Sure enough, it was not long before ponies from every walk of life started heading out of their homes and towards wherever that day’s business required them to be, whether it be a store, school, or the market. The mare avoided them by keeping to the back streets of Ponyville and walking behind store buildings. She was glad that she did not have work that day, otherwise she’d need to run home, but she was still traveling at a fairly fast pace until the collision happened.

Apparently she had not been the only one taking the back streets to avoid the general public that morning. Though a bit winded, she slowly picked herself off the ground. 

“Oh my goodness, are you alright?” she heard a soft voice say. Maybe it was because it wasn’t directed at her, or maybe it was the voice of the speaker, but she had had a very hard time even registering that someone had spoken.

“Hey you! Why don’t you watch where you are going?” 

“That one was definitely directed at me,” thought the mare as she looked up to see two pegasi, a cyan one staring her down while a yellow one helped a unicorn buried underneath a pile of textiles to her hooves.

“Now Rainbow Dash, there is no need for that,” said the unicorn, “the crash was obviously my fault. I was too busy admiring this new fabric and I was simply not paying attention to where I was going. Now apologize to the poor girl.”

“Aw Rarity, it’s not like it’s not her fault too. She could’ve seen you coming and dodged or something, isn’t that right Fluttershy?” asked the cyan pegasus. 

The yellow pegasus simply stared at the floor.

“Um, I mean, if you… that is to say, I’m just glad nopony is seriously hurt.” She mumbled.

“Exactly, and if you will not apologize then I will.” Rarity said, and then turned to face the mare.

“Now darling, I’m sorry about this horrid crash, I simply got distracted and… what?” Rarity stopped mid-apology to look at the pony. 

The mare had her mane in curls and was wearing a loose green dress. The dress, however, was ripped and torn. For a brief moment Rarity thought that she might have crashed into the poor mare harder than she thought, but then she payed close attention to the tears in the dress. From the looks of them, they had been there for a while. The hemline was frayed and tattered, probably from years of use, while the shoulder straps had obviously been ripped and cheaply repaired. Now that she saw it in better light, the dress itself was faded, probably with age and multiple washes. The only conclusion was that this dress was the only one this mare had, and was damaged because of the frequency of its use.

“No no no no no, this will simply not do,” Rarity exclaimed. Using her magic she levitated all the fabric over her head and addressed the confused mare in front of her. “I don’t know where you were going or what you had planned for your morning, but you are now coming to my boutique with me.”

“I’m doing what now?” the mare asked.

“You are coming with me. No offense, dear, but we absolutely must do something about your dress. I cannot with a clear conscience let you go on your way knowing you’re wearing that in public. Think of me as the fashion police.” 

The mare did not know whether to be offended or confused. She settled on confused.

“And if I refuse?”

“Then I will have my pegasus friend over there corral you and/or carry you until you are in my boutique.”

“Which of the two?” the mare asked, glancing at the two Pegasi. Fluttershy was shaking at the concept of having to corral anypony.

“The Rainbow-maned one,” Rarity expressed.

“Darn. Hey, isn’t this ponynapping?”

“Yes, but I have a very good reason,” Rarity said. “Come on, it will be such fun!” 

Rarity began to walk towards her boutique. The mare decided to follow her without another complaint. 

Soon they arrived at the Carousel Boutique. Rarity entered first, placing the new textiles she had bought on an empty shelf. She was followed by the mare and the two pegasi. Rarity turned to look at them.

“Now darling, I don’t think I caught your name.”

“It’s Evening Rose,” the mare said. 

“Well, it’s a pleasure to have… run into you, as it were. My name is Rarity and this is my boutique. Behind you are Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy; I’m sure you can tell which one is which.”

“The pink-maned one is Rainbow Dash, right?”

“Oh, and witty too! I like you Miss Rose; we are going to be good friends, you and I,” Rarity said. “Now do me a favor please and stand on this platform.”

Rose complied, standing on a circular platform in the center of the room. She tried to showcase confidence and composure but she felt more and more awkward as Rarity walked around her, mumbling to herself.

“Uh huh. Not too lanky, nice neckline, probably want to show that off, mhm. The low waistline is unconventional but works ok enough, the straps need to be made of something thicker, and maybe patterned, and this is riding too low on the flank, completely covering the cutie mark, fixing this would probably fix the hemline problem. Then again, showing off cutie marks is sooo last season. This dress needs to stand with whatever will come, not dwell on the past… I’VE GOT IT!” 

Everyone stared, waiting for Rarity explain. “I know what dress will work out best for you! Now, if you could, please remove that dress so that I can measure you.”

“What?”

“Please remove your dress so that I can get your measurements. I have a dress that will work for you but I need to make a few adjustments to it to make sure that it fits just right.”

“Can we do this in a way that does not involve me removing articles of clothing?”

“Why, whatever do you mean? Why would you want to do that?”

“Because not everypony likes playing dress-up with others like you do Rarity,” Rainbow Dash said. 

Rarity turned around and started arguing with Rainbow Dash about how what they were doing was not “playing dress-up, but creating art.” However, Rose tuned them out. Instead she looked at Fluttershy. The pegasus was giving her a curious stare, as if she was trying to figure something out. It made Rose uncomfortable. 

“It is no more playing dress up than your ‘training’ is spiraling in the air for the sake of whimsy!” finished Rarity, turning back to Rose. “Now, if it makes you uncomfortable, darling, we can forgo the formal measurements and I can eyeball it, but I cannot promise the measurements will be precise.”

“Still, I think that’s best,” Rose said. “Thank you.”

“No problem at all darling! Now let me get the appropriate dress on a mannequin.”

Soon Rarity returned with a mannequin wearing a form-fitting black dress with a medium waistline. The dress still showcased the flank to display one’s cutie mark, but instead of doing so by riding high on the flank with a short hem, it maintained a low and long line with precise cuts into the fabric and an enchantment that caused the dress to flair out exotically. It was a very regal dress, and one of the best Rarity had to offer. She turned to look at Rose and was surprised to see hesitation.

“Is something the matter with it?” Rarity asked.

“What? Oh no, it’s beautiful.”

“What don’t you like about it?”

“What are you talking about… I like it. It’s beautiful.”

“Then?” 

Rose sighed. “It’s just not something I would wear.”

“What are you talking about? Even I have to admit that dress looks really cool!” said Rainbow Dash.

“Well… I… um…” Rose found herself unable to speak with each second making her more and more uncomfortable. She turned to look at Fluttershy, and there was that look again. Then Fluttershy seemed like she had decided something, and walked off.

“Look, darling, it’s ok if you don’t like it completely or if there’s something specific you don’t like. I want to help get you the perfect dress for you. I won’t get offended, believe me; with some of the friends I have, I had to learn that fashion can be very subjective,” Rarity said.

“Though I still don’t get what you could not like about this,” Rainbow piped in. 

Before Rose had a chance to respond, Fluttershy came back in.

“What about this one?” In her hooves she was holding what seemed like a long green dress. Rarity took it off her hooves and put it on the mannequin.

“Interesting choice Fluttershy, I wouldn’t have thought of this one. Now let me think.” Rarity then mumbled to herself as she studied the dress, “Well, it’s a bit flowier than modern dresses are nowadays, but you can’t argue that it is not elegant. Plus we already know she looks good in green. The hemline is still way too long, but that’s an easy fix…“ Rarity clapped her hoofs together. “Ok, I just have to make a few changes.”

Rarity grabbed the dress and took it to a different room to make adjustments, leaving the two pegasi and Rose in the other room. Rose was about to ask if she should step down from the platform when Rarity came back holding the dress and passed it to Rose.

“Now if you please, Miss Rose, try this on in the changing room over there,” Rarity pointed to a booth with curtains. 

Rose complied, changed, and then stepped out.

“That looks awesome!” said Rainbow Dash.

“I agree! Excellent pick, Fluttershy; you certainly struck the mark with this one,” commented Rarity.

“Thank you,” said Fluttershy.

Rose had to admit that she loved the way this dress looked. It was the perfect length, size, and shape, despite Rarity being unable to take those measurements. However, as she stared in the mirror, a realization struck her. She turned to Rarity with a frown on her face.

“Look, Rarity, this dress looks simply amazing, but there is no way I could afford it. I’m sorry for all the work I made you do.”

“What? What nonsense is this? Who ever said anything about paying, darling? This one is on the house.”

“What did you say?”

“That I would never dream of ponynapping someone from the street, forcing them to stand there while I picked out and designed a dress, and then ask them to pay! I mean seriously, what kind of pony do you take me for?”

Rarity’s words hit Rose like a brick and she had to fight hard to stop her tears of happiness from flowing.

“Thank you soo much, Rarity. You have no idea what this means to me.”

“Oh come now Miss Rose, I do believe I have some idea. And you are very welcome. Now, should I throw this garish thing away?” Rarity said while holding the dress Rose had been wearing when she arrived.

“Um… Is there any chance I could keep it still? It does have some sentimental value,” pleaded Rose.

“Oh sure thing, you just have to promise me that you’ll wear this new dress instead of this old one, and that you promise to keep the old one only as a keepsake.”

“I promise.”

“Fabulous, now let me just tidy some things up in the other room and I will be right back.” Rarity said as she left once again.

Rose turned to look at Fluttershy and mouthed a silent “thank you” to the pink-maned pegasus. Fluttershy simply smiled and nodded.

“Are you about done, Rarity?”

“Really, Rainbow Dash, you need to learn to have some patience. This rushing around you always do is unbecoming of a lady. As for you Miss Rose, I must say that this was a rather fun experience! You are quite fun to be around. We must certainly do this again.”

““Yeah, I have to admit you’re pretty funny,” said Rainbow Dash.

“And next time we could introduce you to Applejack. She could learn a thing or two from you, like the way you tried on a dress despite it being in the company of strangers.” 

Rose’s eyes shot open and her throat tightened. Despite this, she managed to ask a question.

“You three know Applejack?” 

“Um, duh, she’s one of our best friends,” commented Rainbow Dash.

“Really, Rainbow. There’s no way she could’ve known that, she only just met us,” said Rarity. She then turned to face Rose. “Why do you ask, dear? Do you know her as well?”

“Oh what? Oh, no, not really. I just know that she’s been taking care of my brother,” she said, looking at the floor.

“Oh, that Script fellow? You know, I have yet to meet him. I hear he’s no longer living at Sweet Apple Acres though, I think he has got a new place near the Market Square,” commented Rarity.

“Well, on that note I should probably say that he doesn’t know that I’m in town. We have a complicated history and I think it’s best for everypony involved if he doesn’t know I’m here. So we might want to hold off on that meeting Applejack thing, considering I hear they hang out a lot nowadays.” 

Rarity looked at her questioningly but decided to drop the issue.

“That’s fine darling, your secret is safe with us,” said Rarity, “Now about meeting up again. I’m busy the rest of the day and tomorrow, but what about the day after that?”

“I’m free after 3,” said Rose.

“You know I’m always free,” said Rainbow Dash.

“Um… I won’t be free until after 4…” muttered Fluttershy.

“Two days from now at 5 pm it is,” said Rarity. “That way you all have a chance to finish what you have to do, relax, and then come out. Why don’t we meet, say, at the restaurant over by the Lemon Tree?” There were nods of agreement from everyone in the group.

“Then it’s settled, see you all then.”



> 6. Avoidance
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


6. Avoidance

If one were to look at the library on this particular night they would not have noticed that something was amiss. The books all sat neatly shelved, both alphabetically and by section, across the library walls with the exception of a few tomes, which were currently resting on a work desk in front of the window. The work desk itself was less extraordinary, with a collection of quills, blank parchment, and notes carefully organized across its surface area. Upstairs, the bed was made, the telescope was put away, and a small dragon slept in his basket. Downstairs, the floor was free from any debris, the kitchen was immaculate, and a purple unicorn sat on her favorite chair. There were no signs of danger, no messes, and no objects that should not be there. However, something was indeed wrong within the walls of the library. To notice this, one would have to have stopped looking at the things that were there, and instead have focused on what wasn’t, namely the sound of pages turning or of quill scratching parchment, which were as commonplace in Twilight’s home as the books that surrounded her.

On this night, like in the past two nights, Twilight was unable to study. Whenever she attempted to do so, she would lose track of her place or catch herself getting distracted by her thoughts. It wasn’t that she no longer found the information fascinating; the book on the medical discoveries in the field of biomedicine during the Neighpolionic era was probably one of the most captivating books she had ever read. No, the problem was that she had something else on her mind that was commanding her undivided attention. Using her magic, she levitated her last “to-do” list over to where she sat and began to analyze it. The list had every entry crossed out with ink, rendering it unreadable, with the exception of the final entry.


Meet Applejack’s and Pinkie Pie’s new friend, Script.


Though this list was the only one in which she had written this down, she had been attempting to meet the stallion ever since Pinkie Pie’s cancelled housewarming party.

At first it was because she felt sympathy for the pony. Twilight still remembered what it had been like for her before she allowed herself to become friends with the girls. Moving to a new town, even if it was supposed to just be for a little bit, was a huge change for her. She had known no one, and she could only imagine that being in a similar situation, this Script fellow would need some assistance. Pinkie had assured her that he would come to them when he was ready, but Twilight was not convinced. 

Before Twilight had moved to Ponyville, and even in the first few hours after her arrival, she did not understand the need for friends. In her mind, she did not need them. She convinced herself that she felt no loneliness, and she used her studies as a way to put off having to interact with anypony. If the girls had not forced themselves on her the way they had, she would probably still be back there, in Canterlot, alone. Twilight had agreed that sometimes it’s best to give ponies their space, but with somepony as shy as Script seemed to be, she figured it might be a good thing for him to have some socialization, whether he was ready for it or not. As such, Twilight sought him out for the simple reason of wanting to give him the same chance her friends had given her. However, she had not been able to find him. Every time she checked in on him at his house no one was home, and whenever she went to Sweet Apple Acres to try to find him at work, she was informed that she had just missed him. She even asked around and found that nopony had seen the pony in question. In fact, aside from the one-pony house on the square and the word of her two friends, Twilight had found no evidence that this pony existed. This troubled her.

It wasn’t just that there was a new pony in town that she didn’t know. Ponies moved into Ponyville all the time and she never met all of them. When she and her friends talked they would often mention new arrivals in conversation, a new farmer that AJ had met, a mare Rarity helped find a new dress for, a new pegasus that lost a race to Rainbow Dash, and the like. Twilight knew she would probably never meet any of them, and this did not bother her at all. No, it wasn’t that she hadn’t met him, but the effort this stallion was putting into not being met, that worried her.

“That’s not normal, right?” Twilight asked herself. It seemed obvious to her that the only ponies that were that good at hiding were those with something to hide. For all she knew, Script could be dangerous. She thought back to Applejack and Pinkie. They trusted him, so he couldn’t be that bad. AJ was the element of Honesty:  if Script had lied to her, she’d be aware of it. And yet, she was still worried. 

She decided that the next day she would stop by the farm and try to find him again. It wasn’t that she thought her friends were wrong in trusting this new pony, but she needed to find out for herself, it being very apparent that she would not be able to stop worrying until she met the pony and made sure he wasn’t a threat.

Blowing out the candles, Twilight went to bed.





Twilight rose early the next day, taking care of a few morning chores before heading to Sweet Apple Acres. A fierce anticipation gripped her stomach as she walked the familiar dirt road leading to the barn. 

“What if he isn’t there,” Twilight thought to herself. There was a short pause, “What if he is?” Twilight was shaken from her thoughts by the sound of Applejack talking to someone.

“…I guess it depends on how many barrels you think we should sell them. I understand that we’d get a bigger profit that way but I do want to have enough here at the farm to be able to sell it ourselves.” It sounded like she was discussing a business plan. That meant that there was somepony else with her, either Big Mac, or Script. 

“50/50 shot,” thought Twilight, “I like those odds.” Twilight sneaked up to the door hoping to be able to enter without drawing attention herself. She did not want him to have any warning. However, as she stepped within view of the frame, Applejack noticed her, turned, and waved.

“Hey there, sugarcube, what are you up to?” the farmer asked. 

Twilight tried to look and sound as casual as possible.

“Oh, nothing. Who are you talking to?” Twilight asked as she walked into the barn.

“I was just talking to…” Applejack turned and saw she was standing alone. “Now wait a minute, when did he…”

“Let me guess, Script?” 

Applejack nodded and responded, “He was here a second ago but he’s always disappearing when I get distracted. I swear that Pinkie’s been teaching him some of her tricks or something.”

“Seems like it, “said Twilight, not caring to hide the bitterness in her voice. “I actually came to meet him but I guess I missed him again.” 

Applejack looked at her friend with a questioning look.

“Um… Twilight? Are you alright?”

“Of course,” responded Twilight before her composure dropped. “I mean no… I don’t know.”

“Want to talk about it?” asked Applejack. 

Twilight nodded.

“I don’t know; the fact that I haven’t met Script is starting to bother me. No, let me rephrase that; it’s not that I haven’t met him. It’s that nopony has. That pegasus is too good at avoiding attention…” She turned to look at Applejack. “I know you trust him, AJ, but I can’t help but feel that he’s hiding something.” 

Applejack looked at her friend and smiled.

“Of course he’s hiding something, Twilight, but that doesn’t make him untrustworthy.” Applejack saw the confused look on Twilight’s face, so she continued, “I could tell that from day one he’s been lying to me about quite a few things; he has a habit of staring away whenever he’s lying which makes it pretty obvious, but I can also tell that he’s not doing it for the sake of lying. He’s scared of something. Still, despite lying about himself, he has been nothing but kind, hardworking, and responsible around me and my family. So yeah, I trust him.” 

Twilight looked unconvinced, but nodded.

“I guess that makes sense, and if you trust him I know I should trust him too. I’d feel better if I had met him, but I guess I can try to move past it.” 

Applejack nodded.

“If it helps you any, I’ll talk to him next time I see him and I’ll try to convince him to meet you.”

“Thank you Applejack, I’d like that,” said Twilight. She then left the barn and started her journey home.

Not long after she left, Script came back carrying a saddlebag filled with papers.

“Where did you go?” asked Applejack.

“Well, you were talking about wanting a breakdown of how many barrels we should sell to the stores, so I thought it’d be best if we had actual figures in front of us, rather than going from memory.”

“Uh huh, ‘cause you haven’t got those memorized?” 

“Just wanting to be thorough,” responded Script with a smile. 

Applejack sighed.

“That’s fine. Anyway, that was a friend of mine, Twilight, just now. She wanted to meet you.” 

Applejack noticed a strange reaction from Script, as if he had just been blindsided. He gave a hollow laugh.

“Of course you’re friends with her.” 

Applejack’s ears perked up at this and she rounded on Script.

“Now wait just a minute, I’ve been fine with you keeping secrets to yourself, but Twilight is my friend. If there is some conflict between the two of you, you might want to let me know now.” 

Script calmed his breath and waited for a minute before responding.

“I honestly can’t tell you. What I can say is that she’s one of the ponies I’m avoiding on purpose the most, but that it has more to do because of a potential threat she might be to me, rather than anything I have against her. I don’t really have anything against her. The problem is that she’s from Canterlot and right now, ponies from Canterlot are very dangerous to me…” 

Applejack judged his answer. She could tell that he was still hiding something, but he was being honest in what he did say. He wasn’t a danger to Twilight, and aside from refusing to meet with her, there was no ill will there that she could catch. She gave a deep sigh.

“Fair enough. Now let’s get this done so that we can each go home.”

“Yes, lets,” said Script, bringing out blank paper on which to write their options. Applejack looked at the saddlebag full of the Sweet Apple Acres production figures.

“You ain’t gonna use those?” she said. 

Script smiled sheepishly.

“Don’t need them; I have them memorized.”





Baked goods of every flavor and make surrounded two ponies as they hungrily contemplated their choices. Very few ponies appreciated the art that could be found inside Sugarcube Corner. Sure, it took some knowledge and know-how to make delicious baked goods, like cupcakes, pies, cakes, muffins, éclairs, and the like. However, it took a real artist to turn those same baked goods into the creations that decorated the shop from their display cases. The wide variety of colors alone was breathtaking to behold. Still, as was often the case, the ponies did not stop to appreciate the wider picture, instead focusing on each small piece as they selected their lunch.

After finishing working for the day, Applejack decided to come eat lunch at Sugarcube Corner, stopping by to invite Twilight along the way. Though her conversation with Script had not yielded many answers, she was still going to follow through in letting Twilight know the results. Besides, she never needed a specific reason to hang out with the purple mare. Hanging out was reason enough. After making their selection and paying Pinkie, they found a table and began to eat. The conversation started off light enough, but there was no postponing what was clearly on Twilight’s mind.

“So, did you talk to him?” 

Applejack finished chewing and swallowing her cupcake before responding.

“Yeah, I did. But I don’t have much to tell you,” Twilight sighed.

“I guess he didn’t want to meet me then.”

“He did not,” Applejack responded, “and he’s still hiding a lot of things, but he did let me in on something.” 

Twilight perked up, giving Applejack her full attention.

“For some reason he’s afraid of ponies that have any connection to Canterlot. He didn’t explain why, nor did I really try to get him to, but he seems to see y’all as dangerous.” 

Twilight looked confused.

“That’s oddly specific… Why Canterlot?”

“I don’t know, but I do know that he’s hiding because he’s afraid, not because he means harm to anypony,” responded Applejack.

“Still, maybe I could write to Princess Celestia, see if anything’s happened in Canterlot in the past few months that might…”

“TWILIGHT!” Applejack cut her off. Twilight was startled at seeing such a serious look on her friends face.

“Look, I told you what I know to ease your mind, not to help you go around investigating a pony you don’t know. Whatever is going on with Script is his business until he decides to tell us. Not sooner. For all you know, you might inadvertently cause whatever he’s afraid of. If whatever he’s hiding is dangerous, we’ll deal with it when it comes up. Until then, try to let sleeping dogs lie, ok?” 

Twilight gulped. What Applejack was asking of her was no easy feat. Her curiosity was part of who she was, as was her capacity for worry. Still, Script had trusted Applejack with that information just like Applejack was now trusting her, and she couldn’t break a friend’s trust.

“Fine, I promise.”

“Good,” Applejack finished off the last of her pastries. “This lunch was delicious. What are your plans for the rest of the day, Twilight?”

“Oh I don’t have any. I might go back to the library to see if I can get some studying done, or I might just take a walk around town.”

“May I make a suggestion?”

Both mares turned to look at Pinkie Pie.

“Yes, Pinkie?” said Twilight.

“Well, remember that mare that Rarity and the others helped with the dress? Rose? Well, Rarity told me that she has never ever ever been to Sugarcube Corner or had one of our cupcakes, so they’re bringing her here to surprise her with cupcakes and they promised me I could meet her. If you stick around you can meet her too! There’s only one problem though:  they wouldn’t tell me why but they were very clear that Script couldn’t be around when they came in, I think Rose and him have a history or something and it might be awkward, so I can’t invite him, and you,” pointing at Applejack, “can’t invite him either.”

“Well that suits me just fine. Script wouldn’t show up anyway because he’s terrified of meeting new ponies, so it’s no trouble at all. Besides, all I was going to do anyway was to fix up a couple of things in my room, and I can do that tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” said Twilight. “At least I’ll get to meet one new pony today.”

> 7. The Sister
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



7. The Sister

The excitement was almost palpable as Rose finished curling her mane. The process, which normally took her 30 minutes, had been expanded to take up a whole hour. 

“Today I have to look perfect,” she thought to herself, stretching and releasing her curls to test their bounce. All in all, it had been a rather exhausting week, but the good points far outweighed the bad. After meeting Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy, Rose had been filled with enthusiasm and anticipation of the likes she hadn’t felt in quite a while. She had not only been accepted, making three new friends, but she was now going to hang out with them. True, with every good thing there is something bad, and along with her new giddiness came a sense of apprehension. She had scoped out the restaurant they were going to be going to the night before and found it to be a quaint little place on the far corner of Ponyville. This calmed her nerves a bit; after all, the more one knows, the safer one is. Still, all the nerves in the world could not compete with the glee and delight that now enveloped her. 

“Time for the dress,” she thought to herself. She had laid the dress out on her bed, but had ignored it while setting her curls. She now turned to it and examined it. The flowy green dress was the definition of elegance in Rose’s eyes, and was by far the most expensive thing she owned. She still couldn’t believe that Rarity had just given it to her. She placed a hoof on it, feeling the soft and strangely sturdy fabric of the dress. 

“It’s real,” she thought to herself. Rose put it on, immediately feeling like a more regal mare than she could realistically hope to be. This dress was perfect. At first she had been concerned that it would look odd without any accessories or jewelry, neither of which she owned, since such an elegant dress seemed to demand them. However, now that it was on… it just felt right. She went through her closet to see if there was anything else she might need, like a scarf. After a moment she decided against it, simply grabbing her bag and walking downstairs.

She attempted to look over herself once again, hoping that she looked fine, but she could not really check, since the mirrors that came with the place had been broken not long after she moved in. She carefully stepped around the broken glass and readied to exit the apartment. She left through the backdoor to avoid the general traffic of ponies heading home, and ran to her rendezvous with a smile on her face.





“So I was ready to tell her I had been messing with her, so I decided to do something that made it obvious that I was trying to get on her nerves on purpose. I grabbed this giant wig that I had laying around the shop from a comical old style costume and I put it on her. Fighting the giggles was near impossible, but I managed, and wouldn’t you believe it, she actually kept it on and asked me what was next!” The table erupted in laughter at the end of Rarity’s story, with everyone involved being in hysterics, with the exception of the cyan pegasus.

“Oh ha ha, I figured it out after you put the pink bow on me,” replied Rainbow Dash. 

Rarity fought to regain some breath. “Only because I started laughing once I had put it on you!” Another round of laughter erupted. 

Eventually even Rainbow joined in. “It was pretty funny.”

They had all arrived on time at the restaurant and had immediately received a table, thanks in no small part to Rarity and the influence she had around town. Each of the girls was wearing elegant dresses of Rarity’s own design, which she had made for when they attended the Grand Galloping Gala. They once again complimented how Rose looked in her dress, causing her to blush. After making small talk, each of them went in turn talking about their day. The conversation dwindled down as their dinner arrived, an exquisite assortment of cooked salads and carrot stew.  After dinner the conversation started up again, eventually leading to Rarity’s anecdote. 

“So, darling, how do you like Ponyville?” Rarity asked, changing the topic before she could be overtaken by another fit of giggles. 

Rose had to think on this question for a while.

“It’s nice. Everything about it is nice. The weather, the scenery, the ponies... It’s very nice and welcoming,” Rose responded. 

“Well we’re glad you think so. I must say hanging around you has been such a blast.” 

The conversation shifted towards their plans for the rest of the week, among other things, until the waiter arrived with the dessert menu. 

“Are any of you fine fillies ordering dessert today?” asked the waiter. 

Rose began to scan the menu when she heard Rarity speak, “No no, just the checks please.” Rose looked at her inquiringly. Rarity showed that she noticed but waited until the waiter had collected the plates before explaining.

“We have somewhere else to take you, and trust us:  you’ll want to save room for dessert.” 

This raised a couple of questions, but the checks arrived before Rose had a chance to voice them. She looked over the check finding the total amount of her meal, cringing on the inside. She opened her bag, locating a smaller bag inside which she kept her bits. She pulled out the proper amount, which was more bits than she had ever spent on a meal.

“I did not expect to spend as much as I did,” she thought to herself. However, as she looked at the table and listened in to Rainbow Dash’s conversation with Fluttershy, her worries faded away. “Obviously I can’t do this too often, but it was certainly worth it.”

Having paid, the ponies exited the restaurant under the cover of moonlight. A slight breeze brushed their manes as they walked towards the town.

“Um… So where are we going?” asked Rose.

“Oh, we’re going to the most delightful little pastry shop called Sugarcube Corner. It’s that place I asked if you had been to last time we talked. I know you will absolutely love it!” 

Rose tensed up a bit.

“Isn’t that near the Market Square in the middle of Ponyville?”

“Yes, is that a problem?” asked Rarity. Rose stared into the distance, taking a deep breath before answering.

“Kind of… You see, remember how I said it’d be a bad idea if I run into my brother. Well, he and his friends…”

“You worry too much, Rose,” interjected Rainbow Dash.

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me,” Rainbow responded with a smile. “We sent somepony ahead to check to see if Script was home or anywhere near here. Had he been, somepony would’ve stopped us along the way.  That means that everything is safe.”

“Wait, you what?”

“Darling, you specifically told us you did not want your brother knowing you were in town, so all we did was make sure that him finding out would not happen,” said Rarity.

“You made sure without wondering what the problem was underneath.”

“We figured if you wanted to tell us you will, and if not then it’s none of our business. Still, that’s no excuse to not enjoy a delicious cupcake.” 

Rainbow Dash said, “Besides; it’s a little late to back out now. We’re here.” 

Rainbow pointed at the building they were standing in front of. Because of the conversation, Rose had not noticed that they had traveled deep into the center of Ponyville. Fluttershy, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash entered the store with Rose not far behind, lost in her thoughts.

She analyzed what had just happened. Rose had made wonderful friends who had gone out of their way to make sure she felt welcomed. She had trusted them with a piece of information and they had not only kept their curiosity at bay, but had used that information to plan accordingly to ensure that no unexpected mishaps messed up her day. She was so lost in these happy thoughts that nothing could drag her down to reality.

“Script?”

Almost nothing. 

Her heartbeat tripled and a cold sweat ran down her neck as soon as she heard that voice, euphoria crashing around her. Anxiety turned to fear as she saw Applejack standing there, eyes wide in shock. That fear turned into panic when she noticed the pony to Applejack’s right.

“Slant?” Twilight asked, “Is that you?”

> 8. The Conversation
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


8. The Conversation

Time seemed to stand still, dragging itself across the fabric of reality, as the last reverberations of Twilight’s question faded away. If possible, the silence that followed seemed to tick by at an even slower rate. No one dared to move and no one dared to breathe. It was as if all of existence had been placed under a trance, rendering it mute. Twilight was the first to break the spell.

“Slant Rhyme… That is you isn’t it?” she asked. 

“You’re being silly Twilight,” answered Pinkie, “That’s Script.”

“I don’t know what you’re both talking about,” said Rainbow Dash. “This is Evening Rose, the mare we met that we had told you about.”

The Mane Six stared at each other for a second before turning their collective gaze towards the pony standing near the doorway, who had yet to say a word.

In the pony’s defense, it wasn’t that they were completely unwilling to clarify the situation; it is that they were unable. The first obstacle for the pony to overcome was that of shock. The pony struggled to understand how these six ponies had come to be in the same room. The pony then struggled to understand how this predicament failed to be avoided. Finally, the pony struggled to understand how, despite all the precautions, the world was still crumbling away. 

The pony did not need to look up to know they were still being stared at. The pony could feel the gazes through skin and bone. The group of friends was staring, analyzing, and forming their own conclusions. However, they still waited for a response. 

The beating of the pony’s heart was deafening. With each passing second it grew louder, threatening to rupture the pony’s eardrums with its frantic beat. The pony’s body grew numb as the seconds ticked into minutes in the suffocating presence of the group’s unspoken question.

“Who are you?”

The pony attempted to speak, but all that came out were the few noises and word fragments that did not perish in the pony’s throat. The pony took a deep breath, and then spoke with a voice in a far lower register than Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy had heard the pony use.

“Fine, I guess I should come clean.”

“Wait! You’re a stallion!?” Rainbow Dash asked.

The pony flinched and tears welled up in his eyes as if he had been struck with a hot iron, but no word of comfort was uttered. Instead, silence once again threatened to envelop all. That is, until Pinkie voiced the question they all had in their minds.

“Who are you?”

The pony took a few moments to regain his composure before he talked again.

“My birth name is Slant Rhyme. I’m one of the few pegasi living in Canterlot not employed by the royal guard… or at least I was…” he said. 

The group turned to look at Twilight for an explanation.

“The Rhyme family is a noble pegasi family living in Canterlot. You all know that the majority of the population in Canterlot consists of unicorns with most of the pegasi population belonging to the Castle’s Royal Guard. Well, as Slant stated, the Rhyme family is one of the few exceptions.” Twilight paused to make sure she remembered everything correctly. “Much like how everyone in Applejack’s family has a talent for things having to do with apples, the Rhyme family has a talent for things relating to writing and literature. The family can be traced back to the beginning of Celestia’s reign, during which the members of the family wrote poems and stories to and about the sisters to gain their favor. Since then, every single member of the Rhyme family has been a famous writer, poet, or literary analyst.” She paused. So far Twilight had only been reciting textbook information, which helped to calm her. Next came the harder part.

“Members of the Rhyme family are automatically admitted to the schools of highest quality for their education. That’s where I met him.” She turned to look at Slant. “he’s not a unicorn and therefore was not able to study or practice magic, but he was allowed to take the magic theory classes, as well as history, literature, and the like. We had a couple of classes together.”  Twilight thought back to those classes, trying to remember as much as she could.

“He was always reserved, quiet, and cried way too easily. He was also kind of weird, often isolating himself away from everyone around him, not unlike I did… but… but nothing like this.” 

Twilight looked at him again. “He didn’t use to be like this.” 

The shock and disgust in her voice was evident. It hurt to hear that edge when she spoke, but instead of shrinking away, he opened his mouth. He had a few points to clarify.

“Actually I always was… like this, I mean, I just didn’t know it yet.” He turned to face the group and although he had tears in his eyes, he did not look away as he talked.

“Twilight is right that when I was growing up I was reserved and often would isolate myself. This was not because I was anti-social… In fact, I would have liked nothing more than to make new friends. However, something always felt wrong to me. There was a clear disconnect between what I wanted to do and what was expected. I didn’t like sports, I didn’t like fighting, and I hated weapons. I also cried a lot, and I preferred to have quiet conversations to running around. I was the complete opposite of what the other colts my age liked and valued. Then, when I hung out with the fillies in my class, I would feel angry and jealous and not know why. So I separated myself from both groups and tried not to feel.” Slant shuddered at the thought. These were painful memories to relive, but he couldn’t stop now.

“It took me until I was a stallion to figure out what was wrong, and it was a slow process at that. It all started with a flowing green dress.” Slant thought back to that day.

“I was walking through a market place when I noticed a pile of clearance garments. Lying near the top was a brand new flowing green dress. To this day I don’t know what possessed me to buy it. It took every bit I had left at the time, and it made no sense… but I bought it and I took it home.  When I got there I went to my room, locked the door and tried it on. It fit perfectly. I looked in the mirror, and for the first time in my life I did not hate what I saw. I cried for hours that day.” He paused before continuing. “I didn’t understand why, but this felt right. In fact, it was the first thing that felt right in my life, and that realization hurt me more than the isolation in school did. Isolation, bad as it was, I could deal with. It was simply a physical separation from others. However, what I was facing now was a much deeper problem. I was still isolated from everyone I knew, or would ever know, and this was not a physical separation. I could sit next to somepony, talk to them, befriend them, but at the core I’d still be separate from them. I would always be different from others, and I knew I would find no solace. I was a freak. I was alone.” 

“Still, diseased mind or not, this was something I needed. I started collecting discarded fashion magazines to learn as much as I could to make myself presentable. I learned how to hide my wings inside a dress without creating bulges, since my dress didn’t have wing holes. I also learnt how to style my mane, what cuts in clothing and styles worked best for me, how to raise the register of my voice, and how to use clothing to conceal and feminize my body. Eventually I felt brave enough to go out.” He closed his eyes, remembering that day.

“The first time I went out as Rose was probably the best night of my life. I went out at night because I figured there’d be fewer ponies. After sneaking out of my room, I walked through the streets of Canterlot. A few ponies saw me, and what they said reassured me. They would shout things like ‘Hey miss, shouldn’t you be home right now?’” Slant sighed. “The night became my shelter; less ponies were out and about, and the darkness made me harder to observe, meaning it made it easier to… pass.  Soon I started going out every night and by the time summer ended, I had already mapped out all of Canterlot. Two years passed with my midnight outings, and I eventually came to terms with who I was. I decided it was time to tell my parents.” 

Applejack noticed that Slant, probably subconsciously, put a hoof over the spot on his right leg where she knew it had been dislocated. This was not going to be a pleasant conversation.





Shadows danced along the stone walls of Slant’s room as the candles burnt lower and lower. The room itself was neat and orderly, with nothing of note except for the dozen or so ripped and torn sheets of paper lying on the floor near the small trashcan next to the desk. In the middle of the room was a bed, and on that bed was a scared and frustrated pegasus drying the last of his tears. Slant Rhyme was shaking.

“It figures that the one time I have something important to write about I find myself unable,” muttered Slant. Slant had spent the last three hours attempting to write a letter to his parents informing them on his new discovery about himself… or was it herself? No, he’d figure that out later; for now there was no need to muddle up his thoughts any further than they already were. He stared at the pile of torn paper, barely visible over the edge of his bed.  He had spent three hours attempting to a write a letter and came up empty-hooved. At first, he couldn’t figure out how to begin, ripping the first 5 drafts before deciding on a beginning. Then he struggled with his word choice or his phrasing. Many a draft were ripped after he was stopped, usually halfway through, due to drawing a blank on a word or due to a weird turn of phrase. Still, he persevered and eventually finished the letter, deciding on calling it the final draft. He read over it again and threw it away.

“It’s not good enough,” he had thought. “It tells them the facts and fills them in on what’s going on… but it isn’t good enough. How can I convey how nervous I am? How afraid? It tells them the information but it does not express the emotions, and right now the emotions are the most important thing.”

That had been half an hour ago.

“So much for the brilliant writing legacy of the Rhyme family,” he scoffed. He wasn’t really angry though. He was scared. Writing this letter had been a last ditch effort in avoiding what he knew was the only way to deal with this properly. 

“I’m going to have to tell them in person.”

He turned as if to get off the bed but hesitated. Sitting up instead, he started thinking of what he should do. He considered dressing up to push his point home, but decided that it might be a bit much… plus he wasn’t sure he’d have the courage. His brother Perfect would be asleep, so at least he wouldn’t have to worry about figuring out how to explain things to him yet. Also, he already knew what he wanted to say and get across, due to his many attempted letters. Still, his stomach felt hollow and his throat dry, despite having just had dinner. Worse still was the cold he felt. Even with all the candles going and despite it being the middle of summer, he felt a chill run through his body, the same chill he had carried since he realized the latest development about himself.

He could always not tell them.

He looked at his purple bag, the one that contained a hidden empty pill bottle.

No, keeping it secret wasn’t an option. He had been doing that for two years, and it was only through sheer luck that he was still here. No, if he was going to survive, he needed to do this. He decided to use the mental exercise he used whenever he needed to ascertain his situation. 

He asked himself, “What do you know?”

“My name is Slant Rhyme. I am a member of the noble Rhyme family living in Canterlot. I have always been different. Two years ago I found a dress and bought it. Wearing it made me feel happier than I’d felt my whole life. Looking at the mirror was not painful. Things felt right. I was also afraid of being different. For two years I went out as Evening Rose. I also went to the library to find out what’s wrong with me. I found an old medical journal saying I had Gender Dysphoria. It explained my depression and my self-hatred. I realized I needed to be a mare.  I need to be a mare.” He stopped, collecting his thoughts before continuing. “What else do you know? My parents have always been supportive of me. They say that it’s ok to be different. I need to tell them. They are very accepting. They know psychologists that could fix me. They could accept me… I cannot keep this secret. They need to know. I need help.”

He stopped, readying himself to leave his room, reciting the last and most important thing he knew.

“They love me, and they always will.”





The walk down the hallway connecting his room to his parent’s room was not very large by any account. A few torches lined the walls, casting their soft light along the stone. The walls themselves were very ornate. Embedded in the walls were display cases showcasing pictures, writing awards, trophies, and coats of arms. This was the legacy of the Rhyme Family. Slant hadn’t really paid much attention to them before, not more than the occasional glance as he walked past them. However, tonight he could not help but to admire them, each a precious memento of what came before and what he was supposed to embody. He did this as he embarked in the longest walk of his life.

About halfway through the hallway there was a door that was slightly cracked open. He opened it a bit to see his brother, Perfect Rhyme, lying asleep. Slant sighed before soundlessly shutting the door closed. For better or worse, it was best for his brother to not overhear this conversation. He would find out later. Turning to look at his destination, he advanced slowly until he reached the door, which was also slightly cracked. He knocked.

“Come in.”

Slant walked inside. His dad, Rich Rhyme, was sitting at a work desk finishing his latest book while his mom, Ilene Rhyme, read over a newspaper on the bed. They both turned to look at him. 

“Do you have a minute?” Slant asked. 

A warm smile befell both his parents.

“Of course son, what do you need?” said his dad.

“Um… I just need to talk to you about something,” muttered Slant. 

His mom narrowed her eyes in a look of concern.

“Is something wrong dear?” 

“No. Well, maybe. It’s just something I need to tell you.” He sighed and stared at the floor. There was no point in dragging this on any longer.

“Mom, Dad, I… I think I need to be a mare.” 

The silence that followed was such an immense void of vibrations that Slant imagined it paralleled the lack of sound in the voids of space. He chanced a glance at his parents. They were both shocked, eyes wide and mouths open. They were also both silent. Slant continued.

“You know how I always said I felt different and like I didn’t belong? Well, recently I figured out that it was because I am different. I… I was born into the wrong body. Or at least that’s how I feel. That’s why I was never happy, that’s why… “He stopped when he remembered that they didn’t know what he had attempted. Better to change topics. 

“Anyway, I have, recently, found that… well, that I want to be a mare. No, that I need to be a mare. To be happy… And I was really scared, and very depressed. And I hated myself for thinking it, but it’s something I cannot avoid.” 

His parents started to recover. His mom started to form tears in her eyes while his dad started to tense the muscles in his face. He couldn’t place the emotion. Anger? Confusion? Disgust?

Slant closed his eyes, and continued.

“I’ve been doing research; I found that what I have is called Gender Dysphoria. It’s why I feel the way I do. It’s when the physical body of a pony doesn’t match up with how they identify.  And it causes body image issues, and depression, and isolation. So I found out I have it, and I’m scared. And I know what I need but I don’t know how to go about it. And I knew that I needed to tell you. And I want your support, because I feel really alone right now, and I need help to get through this.”

Tears were now falling from his closed eyes into the floor. He did not dare to open them and see his parent’s reactions, so he waited. He waited for a response of some sort. Some indication of what was happening. Some indication that it was all going to be ok. He then heard the soft noise of hooves striking the stone floor. Someone was coming closer. Maybe to comfort him, maybe to speak to him. He waited. No sound came. Then he felt it.

It all happened in a split second, and yet he could dissect the number of things that happened in order. First he felt a hard pressure against his cheek. Then that pressure intensified until it was painful. Then it sent him tumbling into a drawer next to the wall. Lastly, he felt a warm liquid dripping out of his mouth. 

Someone had kicked him, and he was bleeding.

A scream followed his fall. He opened his eyes. His mom was still on the bed. Her eyes were wide and tears flowed freely while a look of shock appeared on her features. His dad was now standing next to where he himself had been a second ago. He still had that same look he had had the last time Slant had looked at him. There was no trace of confusion anymore though, just anger and disgust.

“How dare you?” asked Rich. His voice was terse and showcased his barely controlled rage. He was trying not to yell, but it wouldn’t last long.

“Wh…what?” Slant’s voice trembled. The tears had stopped, leaving only fear.

“You think this is funny? Some sort of sick joke? And after everything we’ve done for you this is how you repay us?” 

Slant processed the words but was unable to form a response. Rich moved closer, towering over Slant as he continued. 

“What did we do wrong!? We gave you everything, a good home, an education! We tried to be good parents. So where did we mess up with you!?” 

He was now standing directly on top of Slant’s form.

“I.. Um…”

“ANSWER ME!” 

A hoof came down, striking Slant on the face again. This time he couldn’t dissect it in stages. All he felt was pain.

“I SAID ANSWER ME!” 

There was another strike, this time in Slant’s stomach, knocking the air out him. Now he couldn’t fight back, even if he had wanted to. Rich grabbed Slant by the throat and threw him at the work desk. Papers scattered everywhere, covering a large section of the floor, as Slant gave out a particularly loud cry of pain. His left wing had caught the edge of the desk. He tried to flex it but he was unable, both because of the lack of response and the pain he felt when he attempted it. He turned to look at his mother who was still staring on in shock, unable to move, or unwilling. He then turned and saw his father walking towards him until he was once again on top of him.

“YEARS OF NOBLE LEGACY AND DECENCY RIGHT DOWN THE DRAIN! CAN YOU IMAGINE WHAT THEY WILL ALL THINK? A FREAK IN THE RHYME FAMILY!?” 

He raised both his hooves and prepared to bring them down on Slant’s head. Thinking quickly, Slant covered his head with front right leg to absorb some of the impact.

To say that the pain was mind numbing would be an understatement. At the moment, Slant was unable to reason. He was unable to think. The pain threatened to take his consciousness with it, but he held on, focusing on his leg. It was sticking at an odd angle, bent backwards at the joint from the way it was normally supposed to be. He tried moving but received nothing for his efforts but a renewed jolt of pain. He then noticed the remnants of a very loud scream of agony, probably his own, fading into the walls as he was kicked once again from the side, landing him near the door. 

The scream seemed to have shaken his mother out of her stupor since Slant heard what sounded like her voice and his father’s voice arguing. He couldn’t hear what they were arguing about, the sound being muffled and discarded as his brain focused instead on the pain crying out from every nerve ending. It didn’t matter anyway. All that mattered was that he was near the door, and he needed to escape. 

He ran out the door as best he could with his injured leg, turning back to check he was not being followed. They had not noticed his absence yet. As he turned to look forward he noted his brother’s door, which seemed to be cracked open. Probably a trick of the torch lights. He quickened his pace finally reaching his room. He knew he didn’t have much time. 

He grabbed his purple bag and filled it with the bare necessities. He grabbed his bag of bits and a few books and diaries that he knew he might need. He then grabbed his green dress. Once everything was secured he closed his bag with a bit of tape, not having time to look for rope. Then he heard the yell. 

He didn’t know what the yell had said, but he knew they had discovered he was missing. He left through the window, as he often did during his late night walks, and ran as far away as he could. 

He didn’t know where he was going, the train station being closed for the day and his leg rendering him unable to follow the trail down the mountain. Logic told him to go to the police station, or to the castle. He had enough to get his father arrested… but then what? And worse, what if whoever he talked to agreed with his father? He couldn’t risk it. Then he saw the shadow of a pegasus in the air. He was being followed.

Instinct kept Slant running through the back streets of Canterlot where the buildings themselves would keep him shielded from an aerial attack. Whenever the pegasus got too close, Slant would take a sharp turn. He wasn’t thinking about where he was going; there was no time for thought. He just let muscle memory dictate where his escape would lead. This would prove unfortunate.

Before long, he found himself facing down the Cliffside of Canterlot as a pegasus swiftly landed behind him. His father stared him down with unrestrained anger in his eyes. Slant looked behind him. All he could see were trees and small towns scattered down and across the distance. He tried to move his injured wing. It was difficult, and very painful, but he got some movement out of it.

“Maybe it would be enough to sustain flight,” he thought.

His father took one step towards him. Slant jumped.

He immediately opened his right wing preparing for flight. He then struggled to open his left wing. He was unable to. He had been wrong.

He stared at the trees far below him as he plummeted. He was not followed.





Slant took a moment to compose himself before continuing his story.

“When I woke up, I was deep within some woods. My injured wing was just as damaged as before, but I found that on my way down I broke the other one. My injured leg was still unresponsive. I also found I had a lot of scratches and cuts all over, but I had nothing to wash the blood away.  I could still see the mountain behind me, and I remembered seeing a town before my jump so I made my way in the general direction I thought it would be in. I got as far as the Everfree before I saw any sign of civilization. Then I headed there in the rain. Then you found me,” he said, pointing at Applejack.

“Why did you lie?” Applejack asked. “When we had that first talk, why did you lie about yourself, or about what happened?”

“I had been away from civilization for a while so I didn’t know how far news of what happened had spread. I didn’t want to risk it.”

“News?” asked Rarity.

“Yeah. The Rhyme family is one of the oldest and most renowned families in Canterlot. I cannot imagine what the tabloids and reporters would do if they found out what happened. The scandal would be the talk of all of Equestria. Even if they didn’t hear about what happened with me, my mere disappearance was probably noteworthy enough for them to write about.” He looked at Applejack. “I didn’t know what you knew. What anypony knew. I didn’t want anypony knowing that I am… I didn’t want my past following me. Besides, I’ve been disowned in the most thorough way possible. I’m not a member of the Rhyme family anymore. Slant Rhyme died in that fall.”

“Is that why you were avoiding ponies? And me?” asked Twilight. “Because you thought we might have heard about what happened and might recognize you?” 

“Yes and no.” Slant turned to look at Twilight. “Yes, because that is why I avoided ponies. I didn’t know who might recognize me and if they might have heard of what happened. However, that is not the only reason why I avoided you. Being from Canterlot, you posed a double threat to me. For starters, you could, and did, recognize me. We had classes together, and anypony who lived in Canterlot would probably be able to recognize the Rhyme family members. It was also far more likely that you would have heard what happened since your parents still live in Canterlot, as does your brother, not to mention your connection to Celestia. But it was also possible that you could alert them.”

“Alert them?” asked Twilight, “What do you mean?”

“Regardless of whether or not the public found out about… about me, my disappearance will have made some news. I don’t know how they’re handling it:  maybe they declared me dead, or maybe missing, or maybe they are saying I’m sick and can’t come outside. As far as I know, my family probably assumes I’m dead, which works for the best because they won’t be looking for me. However, imagine you had been told I was missing in Canterlot and you saw me here? Or even if you didn’t know what was going on and you told your brother in the guard that you saw me in Ponyville? Imagine if my parents found out I was alive and walking around? I couldn’t risk it. Anypony with connections to Canterlot is a threat.”

They all processed the information in silence until Rainbow Dash spoke.

“So, you’re a transvestite?”

“No, I’m transgender, and not by choice!” Slant yelled. They all stared at him in confusion. He sighed.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled. Let me explain. ‘Transvestite’ is a very derogatory term. It’s an insult. I am transgender, a pony whose gender identity is different from what they were born with. And when I say it’s not by choice, it’s because it’s true.” They continued to stare at him. 

“Look, I didn’t choose this. I would like nothing more than to just be a mare and to not have to suffer nature’s mistake, but not even all of the magic of both princesses combined could fix this… I would even settle for someone fixing it so that I didn’t feel the way I do, but that’s not possible either. And I cannot ignore it.”

Still they stared in silence. He couldn’t tell what they were thinking; he couldn’t see any trace of emotion on their faces. There was nothing to tell him what was going on in their minds. There was silence once again, silence enveloping everything except his cursed heartbeat. He couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for lying, I’m sorry for avoiding you, I’m sorry for being what I am. I’ll leave town. All I need is until tomorrow afternoon and you will never see me again. I just ask, no, I just beg that you don’t tell anypony about what happened. Please?” 

There was still silence. Taking one last look at them, Slant turned and ran out the door leaving behind six mares who were still trying to process what had happened.

Applejack was the first to recover from the shock. She turned to Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy.

“So none of you knew?” she asked. Rarity and Rainbow Dash both silently shook their heads while Fluttershy stared at the floor. After a moment, her soft voice rang out.

“I did.” They all turned to look at her in surprise. She hesitated for a second due to the new attention she was getting, but then continued.

“It was back at the shop when looking for a dress on the day we met. I’m not sure how I knew, maybe it was all the awkwardness, or the posture, but I figured it out. That’s why I went and picked out the dress I did. Considering what I knew about what she had to conceal, I figured it would be a better dress for her.”

“Um, I think you mean ‘for him’ darling,” Rarity said. 

Fluttershy turned to look at her in the eye.

“Do I?”

> 9. The Cycle Begins
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


9.  The Cycle Begins

The sun was setting through the open windows of Slant’s house, giving everything inside a surreal orange tint. The house was different in other regards though. For starters, everything was clean. The glass had been scooped up and thrown away, as had been all the trash, food, and the letters he had received. Slant had never been particularly messy to begin with, but the effect of these changes was drastic. The house no longer felt lived in. It felt empty.

The upstairs bedroom was completely bare, except for Slant’s purple bag (which was laying by the doorway), the bed, and the pegasus weeping softly into the mattress.

It had been close to twenty-four hours since the conversation. In that time, Slant had cleaned the house, grabbed what he would need, discarded anything perishable, and arranged what he was leaving for the next pony to inhabit this place to use. He told himself it was because he “wouldn’t need it anyway.” All the belongings he would be taking were packed into his purple bag, which included his bag of bits, the journals and books he had brought with him, a few food items for his trip, and his old green dress. The new one was carefully draped over a chair downstairs. He would not be taking it.

“It’s not really mine anyway,” he thought. “She would not have given it to me if she had known what I was…” 

He was planning on leaving the door unlocked after he left, figuring that they would come to make sure he had left town. That way she would see it and take it. In case that didn’t happen, it was still in a place where anypony moving in would see it immediately. Anypony who knew about any type of fashion would probably assume that this was Rarity’s design, meaning that one way or another, it would find its way back to her.

He had even thought about writing a letter apologizing again and thanking them for all they had done… and for their silence. Despite everything, he had come to think of them as friends, and it felt wrong leaving without saying something. However, it only took two drafts before he gave up on that idea. It seemed he wasn’t good at writing when it really mattered, as evidenced by his lack of ability now, his coming out letter before that, and his goodbye letter before that. He stopped his train of thought there, deciding to deal with one painful event at a time, and went on packing for his departure. 

He was now done, and had been for a few hours, but he still could not make himself leave. Instead, he mourned the things his condition had cost.

“That’s the best way to describe it,” he thought. “Cost. Things I used to pay for my lot in life.” 

He thought back to that solitary trip after his escape from Canterlot. He had been hungry and thirsty, with no available food or water save for whatever stray flower or puddle he came across. His wounds were raw, especially those which touched the ground whenever he collapsed while walking or while he dragged himself onwards. His dislocated leg was a constant purveyor of pain, sending a jolt of agony each time it bumped something or turned in a particular way. Everything ailed him, and yet, that was not what caused him the most pain. That honor was reserved for the knowledge that he could never see his family again. Being trans had cost him that. It had cost him his home.

He turned his head to look at out the window. From there he could see the rooftops of the houses that usually overlooked the market square. Being trans had cost him his home in Canterlot, but he had managed to find a new one here.

“And now it’s cost me that too.” 

He sighed. He had always known that he might have to flee this town. It had been on his mind every day since his arrival. What he had not expected was how much it would hurt to leave.

This town had really turned into his home, and not just because he had a building where he could stay. Everything about it said home to him. The community was vibrant, the ponies were kind, and his friends were wonderful. A thought struck him.

That’s right, he had made friends. It had never really crossed his mind as something remarkable, but now that he thought about it, it was. He had really only had one friend in Canterlot, but here he had found some, despite his attempt to not be noticed by anypony. And now he would miss them dearly.

He would miss Applejack’s intelligence and intuition, the way she was always honest but was respectful of those with something to hide. He would miss Pinkie Pie and the way she earnestly tried to do whatever she could for others to be happy. It was rare to see somepony care about others that much, and that fully; he appreciated that. He would miss Rarity’s generosity, and not even just with how she had given away a dress to a mare in need, but in how she always tried to be fair and giving in regards to everything in her life. He would miss Rainbow Dash and her sense of humor, and he would miss Fluttershy’s soft spoken grace. Overall, he would miss their friendship.

“That’s really it, isn’t it though?” he asked himself. “I shouldn’t let myself make friends. Not because of what I am. It only leads to suffering once they realize it and I have to leave. Maybe this is my lot in life and I have to accept it.” He sighed.

“At least I learnt something from all of this,” he said as he headed downstairs, grabbing his bag on the way down. Standing by the door, he took one last look around his empty house. He would miss this place.

He turned to leave when he heard it.

Somepony was knocking at the door.

> 10. Endings and Beginnings
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



10. Endings and Beginnings.

Slant stayed frozen by the door. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. All he could do was stand there perplexed and confused.

*knock knock knock*

There it was again. Slant decided that at this point he had nothing to lose. He opened the door.

He wasn’t surprised by what he saw. In all of Ponyville there were only six ponies with a reason and motivation to come see him. Still, just because he wasn’t surprised at seeing the six ponies standing at his doorstep, it did not mean he was not intimidated. He looked at Twilight, who was standing at the front of the group.

“I was about to leave, I swear. I have all I need in my bag and I…” 

“It’s ok,” Twilight interrupted. She took a deep sigh and said, “Look, we just came by to have a talk with you. Can we come in?”

Slant was obviously confused, but he was not about to turn down a course of action that did not involve a confrontation. He stepped aside, letting them in. The six walked inside silently, studying the small home. Pinkie, being the only one to ever have been inside the house, noticed the empty frame where the large mirror used to be, but said nothing. 

Once they were inside, they formed a semi-circle, facing Slant. He closed the door and turned to face the six, unsure of what to say. Thankfully, he was not left waiting for long.

“After you left,” Twilight began, “the girls and I stayed and talked for a very long time. We talked about what you told us, about what we thought, and about what we felt. We then decided that we should tell you this in person, which is why we’re here. Also, even though I will be the only one doing any talking, I want you to know that everything I’m saying speaks for the group and has been agreed on by all of us in advance.”

Slant nodded. He was a bit taken aback by her formal tone, but he was decided not to voice his concern. He allowed her to continue.

“First of all, I want to apologize for the way that we treated you at Sugarcube Corner. We were shocked and confused, but that is no excuse for the way we acted. I just hope you understand that everything you told us was a lot to take in, and we’ve never seen anypony like you before. We’ve heard certain things, had a general knowledge that ponies like you existed, but we had never met one. It was a lot to try to make sense of, and because of that we didn’t think before we spoke and stayed silent when we should’ve said something. Still, as I said, it’s no excuse.” 

Twilight turned and noticed the giant empty frame next to the stairs. The length to width ratio was off, so she wasn’t sure what type of portrait it was supposed to hold. She noticed a bit of broken reflective glass in the lower right hand corner of the frame before turning to face Slant again.

“I did some research on trans ponies and trans issues after I got home. There’s not a lot, actually; I only found two books on the subject, but they did give me a better understanding of what you’re going through. I’ve read about what ponies like you go through, and I know that it’s not something anypony would go through willingly if they could avoid it.” 

She turned to look at the ‘frame’ on the wall, causing Slant to follow her gaze. 

“You have enough difficulties to deal with without ponies like us questioning your judgment.” 

She turned to look at him again.

“Besides, it’s not like we have any right to question. This is who you are, and even though it’s new and different to us, it doesn’t make it any stranger than the other differences ponies have. It’s nothing to be ashamed of or something anypony should have to hide, and we’re ashamed of making you feel like it was.” She paused for a moment before continuing.

“And even though it’s who you are, it is not what defines you. What defines you is what you do. I talked to the girls about what they thought of you, not during the conversation but when they were hanging out with you, when they were getting to know you. Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy all said that you were intelligent, fun, and appreciative. Pinkie Pie said that you were kind and forgiving. Applejack said you were responsible, hardworking, and trustworthy.” Each of the ponies in the half circle nodded in agreement as she said this. “That’s what defines you and that’s all we should need to know about you.” 

“I never really got to know you in Canterlot, but I want to know you now, and based on what my friends have told me… I want to be your friend as well.” Twilight stopped, thinking to make sure she had covered everything they had talked about.

“I guess that’s the long version. The short version of it is, ‘We’re really sorry about how we treated you, we hope you’ll forgive us, and we want you to stay.’ We’re sorry about what happened in Canterlot, and that you lost your home, but Ponyville can be your home now, if you’re willing to let it.”

Slant stared at her with disbelief in his eyes. He had heard everything Twilight had said, but was still having trouble comprehending it. They weren’t mad, they weren’t upset, and they wanted him to stay. He looked around the semi-circle. Each pony looked back at him, anxiously waiting for his response.

“Do.. Do you mean it?” he asked. 

All six heads nodded. 

Tears formed in his eyes as a smile formed on his lips. He didn’t know what to say. He began to utter a thank you but Rainbow Dash cut him off, stepping up next to him.

“By the way, when we say we want you to stay, we mean the real you.” 

Applejack stepped up next.

“That’s right! We want you to know that you can be whoever you want to be. No more having to hide.”

The rest of the ponies walked closer as the pony tried to formulate a response. She looked at them with appreciation in her eyes and fixed her voice register as she uttered a simple “Thank you.”

Many tears were shed as they all shared in a group hug. Rose felt her anxieties from the past twenty-four hours just fade away. Eventually the hug broke off and the tears stopped, leaving the house in silence. However, this silence was different. It was calm, warm, and comforting. Still, like any silence, it was not long before it was broken.

“Well I’m glad we sorted this out when we did,” Rarity said, observing the dress draped over the chair. “I cannot believe you were going to take your old dress and leave this one behind. We had a deal!”

Laughter filled the house in what Evening Rose hoped would be the first of many instances.


> 11. Epilogue?
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

11. Epilogue?

Well, that was Dysphoria. I hope you enjoyed it. I know all my chapters are short compared to what a lot of people write, but I hope that the narrative was good enough to make up for it. At most I hope you enjoyed it; at worst, I hope it did no harm.

Now, if you’re wondering what happens next to Evening Rose, I’m sure you’re hoping for an Epilogue, in which case I have good news, because an Epilogue does exist. The bad news is that the Epilogue is less an epilogue and more another story.  You see, I actually wrote out the story of Dysphoria as three connecting story arcs for which I’ve written outlines. What you’ve just finished reading I’ve got labeled as “Dysphoria, Arc 1:  Introductions”, meaning you have two more arcs to get through. As such, I hope you can tolerate me for a bit longer.

The first chapter of Dysphoria, Arc 2: Ponyville is actually already posted so you should go check it out. This Arc will also have a consistent release schedule, as I will be uploading a chapter every Monday and Friday at around 5pm EST. 

Dysphoria, Arc 3: Canterlot will be posted once the story gets to that point (if you can click the link on the name of the story, then it is online). If you’re wondering why Evening Rose would go back to Canterlot, you’ll have to read story arc 2 and then 3 to find out.

Now, there are a few changes between each arc that I’d like to mention in order to not surprise readers. 

Despite only being listed as “Slice of Life,” I consider Arc 1 to be under the categories of:  Sad (because of Rose’s past), Mystery (because of the constant foreshadowing and trying to figure out Script’s secret), and Slice of Life (because some of the stuff is just commonplace like working, making new friends, etc.).

Arc 2 I would say is more completely Slice of Life. The mystery is gone because now all the cards are on the table for readers, so the story deals more with the moving on past the revelation part of the story. There are still “Sad” chapters in the story, but as with Arc 1, they are not the main things going on.

Arc 3, on the other hand, I would classify as Adventure and Sad. I won’t explain why; I’ll just simply say that the three arcs are connected and this is where the main conflict of the three arcs comes to a head. I promise it'll make sense

Aside from that, I will be taking a book out of the Winningverse’s library, and will be writing one-shots to expand on the story. Things that I know for a fact I will be writing will include Rose’s coming out letter, a short on her first night out, a short from Perfect Rhyme’s perspective, and a short on Slant’s suicide attempt (I hope people got that he attempted suicide; I didn’t want to be too blunt about it, but I kind of was). More one-shots will be added as I come up with them and write them, but my priority is finishing the arcs.

So, I hope you enjoyed Arc 1 and I hope you put up with the rest of the stuff I will be posting. Again, my normal releasing schedule is every Friday and Monday (at around 5pm EST). Please favorite, follow, watch, stalk, or do whatever you need to do to keep up with the story. If you think it's worth sharing, please do so at your heart's content. Also feedback is always appreciated. I might not always act on others’ advice, but I’m always willing to receive it and take it into consideration. 

Thank you for reading.

-thedarkprep

P.S. If you want to talk about any trans-related things (if you have questions, concerns, or want any information), feel free to send me a private message. I would love to talk to you and inform in any way I can.