I Did This Thing... · 4:30am Sep 17th, 2013
So you likely noticed (or didn't, as is often the case due to the sheer number they release) the recent thread over on the Writer's Group.
I figured it'd be fun, a quick little exercise. Since I wasn't able to get any writing done today (thanks, parents, for continuing to kill all my time with pointless busywork), I figured I could do this little aside. Wouldn't take long. Just a few questions--well, quite a few questions. But still. Easy enough.
You probably know where this is going. I did it. I figured I'd actually do it as a fiction, rather than simply answers questions. That's boring.
So, fuck me, I ended up writing over 2000 words to answer 30 questions. Balls.
Since I'm halfway proud of it (I mean, it is still just an answering session, so it's a little dry. But still, it's got some neat information I didn't have before, and I like it.), I'll post it here for storage purposes.
First, questions.
1. What is your name?
2. What is your favorite color?
3. What are your interests?
4. Favorite music genre?
5. If you had a time machine that would work only once, what point in the
future or in history would you visit?
6. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?
7. If your house was burning down, what three objects would you try and save?
8. What is on the walls in your bedroom?
9. If you HAD to give up one of your senses (hearing, seeing, feeling, smelling,
tasting) which would it be and why?
10. If you were an animal, what would you be and why?
11. Do you have a pet? If not, what sort of pet would you like?
12. Name a gift you will never forget?
13. Name one thing you really like about yourself.
14. What's your favourite thing to do in the summer?
15. What is your preferred brand of toothpaste?
16. Coke or Pepsi?
17. If you could choose, what would you be doing 10 years from now?''
18. What was the worst thing that ever happened to you?
19. What was the best day of your life?
20. Who was the person who most influenced you, and how?
21. If you were writing your epitaph, what would you say?
22. What’s your favorite indoor/outdoor activity?
23. What chore do you absolutely hate doing?
24. What is your favorite form of exercise?
25. What is your favorite time of day/day of the week/month of the year?
26. What is your favorite body part?
27. What sound do you love?
28. If you could throw any kind of party, what would it be like and what would it be for?
29. What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done?
30. What annoys you most?
Next, Grey's response:
The light flicks on, revealing a platinum-coated unicorn, his slate eyes blinking in the sudden illumination. His mane is shortly cut, unkempt and a little shaggy. He catches sight of the mysterious stranger seated across from him and gives an annoyed look. You ask your first question. Gruffly, he replies, "So I get grabbed off the street, thrown into a bare room with a single desk-light shining in my face, and now you're asking me questions? What is this? Some kind of Mob talent-abduction thing? No? Oh well, Lyra isn't expecting me back anytime soon, so I guess I'll play your game.
"Let's see--name?" He nods in agreement. "Starting with the basics--good technique. My name: Grey Tiercel. That's pronounced 'teer-sull', by the way. Next... What is my favorite colour...? Well, that seems irrelevant, but it's your time, so..." His mind wanders, thinking of the recent change to his magical aura--the gentleness of amber eyes that sparked it. He shakes his head lightly, saying, "Green."
You ask your next question. "Interests, eh? OK, easy. I'm a detective. I like the chase. I like helping ponies. Music, books, a nice mug of tea... I'm a simple pony. I don't need much--which is good since I can't really afford it!" He laughs as you ask your next question. His head tilts as he thinks. "Genre... Most anything, I guess. I suppose I listen to a lot of oldies--a lot of jazz, big band, and swing from Manehattan's glory days. Lyra's been trying to get me into more modern stuff, with mixed success."
After your next question, his face seems to darken and his eyes take on a hard look. "To before Ponyville was destroyed. I don't know if I could stop it...but..." He bites hard on his lip, his thoughts turning dark. But after a moment, a stray thought winds through the shadows of his mind. A small, unpracticed smile spreads over his lips. "Or maybe... Hearth's Warming Eve, just last year. Yeah. To spend that night again with everypony--with Lyra..." He trails off as he replays the fond memory.
Impatient, you ask your next three questions in quick succession. "I'd like to take Lyra to Ponyville sometime, whenever the unstable magic wears off. Maybe find her old home, see what's left from her old life. As for my own things..." He rubs his chin. "Difficult. It would be damn tough losing all my books, but I don't think I could pick any three... Well, if it counts I'd definitely have to save my hat." He flicks the brim, flashing a grin. "The shirt Mrs. Melody knitted for me for Hearth's Warming would have to be saved, too... And a third. Hrm..." He claps the table as realization strikes. "My investigator's license! I'd need that to keep working, and it'd be a bitch to get another." Activating his magic, he leans the chair back and takes a casual stance. "As for my walls, what isn't blocked by used bookshelves, I have covered with various tapestries. They balance well with the rugs all over my floor."
He waits until you finish writing down his answers then, impatient, picks up the list with his magic. He says, "Let me see that." His eyes move back and forth as he reads the remaining questions. He notices your annoyed look. "Sorry," he says, waving a hoof. "I just don't have all day. I'm supposed to take Lyra out for lunch, and Silver said something about wanting to discuss a book idea with Twilight--my schedule's full up. So let's see...
"Lost sense? That'd make life even more difficult as a detective. Every sense comes to play in some way or another. I suppose taste?" He nods. "Yeah, I could do without taste I suppose. Though I'd miss Melody's cooking. Anyway, moving on.
"I don't really want to be any sort of animal, though I guess my namesake would be an experience. My apartment is a bit small for pets. I've always dreamed of having a dog, though. He'd even help on my cases, too. Or a ferret." He looked at the list again. His cheeks flush, and he won’t meet your eyes for a second as he scratches the back of his neck. “Um, well… It’s pretty damn cheesy, but for long time I thought I was going to die in some back alley, a knife in my throat or maybe my skull caved in. That’s OK, it comes with the job. But I would have nightmares of me in that alley, alone, dead and rotting. Nopony after me, nopony missing me.”
The unicorn stops, letting out a slow sigh. After a few moments of silence, he says, “But then I stumbled upon a few ponies and we had a few adventures and…” A laugh bursts from his lips. “We became friends. For the first time in my life, I had ponies I could trust. Ponies who cared about me, as I cared about them. And Lyra--well, she became something even more.”
Giving an all-too-obvious fake cough, Grey continued. “‘One thing I really like about myself’. Heh. Well, about a year ago I’d have said little to nothing. If I had to pick, I’d say it’s my talent.” He gestures to the mark on his flank--that of three hoof prints underneath a hand-held microscope. “I’m good at finding things--specifically ponies, usually foals.
“The job isn’t easy--in fact, a lot of the time it’s damned miserable. But every single pony I’ve found, I’ve saved? Just one makes it all worth it. That’s my purpose in life. And that? That is a wonderful thing.
“Uh, sorry. Guess that sounds a little...much. So next question. The summer? Oh definitely the street vendors that fill Central Park. You can find some crazy things. Plus all the work that comes my way! I mean, catching purse-snatchers and pickpockets doesn’t pay much, but it’s easy work and it adds up.” Grey gave a hearty laugh.
Using his magic, he flipped to the second page of questions. “Hmm… Toothpaste is toothpaste--whatever’s cheapest and preferably tastes of spearmint, though.” At the next he blinked. Then blinked again. “What the hell is Coke and Pepsi?” Shaking his head, he grumbled, “Stupid nonsense questions. Now I know you work for the government. Is this some new polling technique the mayor’s trying?”
He put up a hoof before you could speak. “Don’t bother. I’ll finish. Grey Tiercel doesn’t start what he can’t finish.” He peered at the page. “Ten years from now? Uh…” Eyes glazing slightly, Grey’s mind took him to places he never expected he could dream. Blushing, he cleared his throat, saying, “Uh, we’ll skip that one.
“Worst thing? Nothing in particular stands out, y’know? I mean. I’ve made my share of mistakes. Have my bucket of regrets. But I’m not one to let that hold me back. If I was, I’d never get anywhere. I’d have died a long time ago. The streets of Manehattan--especially for an orphaned unicorn?--don’t have time for your regrets. As for the best day, I’d repeat my answer for greatest gift.”
Grey made a thoughtful noise, then added, “Though if I wanted to be more specific--the day I stumbled upon an unconscious and cut up Dustdigger and Lyra, lying amidst some broken glass outside of a museum in the middle of the night. I took them back to my office, starting our amazing adventure.
“Now--most influential...what’s a person? I think you misspelled ‘pony’. How odd. Anyway--I’m torn between Mrs. Sweet Melody and Lyra Heartstrings. Really, I suppose I should just credit it to both of them. They’re always there to kick my flank when the past rears its ugly head, y’know? Neither of them gave up on me, hopeless, drunken wreck that I was. They’ve changed my life, for good and for the better.”
The unicorn gave a black grin when he read the next question. “Hah! Oh I don’t know. ‘Just another bucked from the wild ride’? No, that’s more Clarken’s style. I really don’t know--I’ll leave it to others. They probably know me a bit better.”
Laying down the list, Grey stood and began pacing. Before you can object, he says, “Now now, don’t get your bridle in a twist. I just dislike sitting for so long, that’s all. I’ll finish.
“I read as much as I can when I’m not working. It’s really my only downtime. Which leads right into the next one. Paperwork. A damned necessary evil, but Celestia, it drives me up a wall. If I could walk the beat without the MPD getting on my case…”
Grey nearly spat, thinking about his old employers. Even now, several years since they blacklisted him, their mere mention burned him up. Move on, old timer, he told himself.
“Exercise--I try and do it every day. Well, every other day.” A long pause. “At least once a week.” He grumbled. “OK, no less than three times a month. I mean--urrgh. It’s important in this line of work to be as fit as possible, y’know? But there’s so little time--and the job itself is exercise, really, when you think about it. I mean, I do a lot of running. And jumping. And climbing and fighting.” A little defensively, he added, “That should count.”
He started counting off in his head. “Favorite time of day is evening. Yes, it’s the most dangerous, but it’s also when I know I’m being completely tested. When it’s me or whatever criminal I’m after. That feeling that you could die any second? In a way it’s the best way to truly feel alive. No day is particularly special. As a private detective, I don’t get weekends, really. And instead of a month, why not a season? They’re all somewhat similar when you live in such a big city like Manehattan, but there is something about Autumn that just… I dunno, really makes it shine like no other time of year.”
Returning to his seat, he went on. “This next one is weird. Creepy even. I’ll pass, thanks. But for sounds that I love? Nothing beats Lyra’s playing, or her voice. I know it’s her talent and all, but I think she goes above and beyond a simple cutie mark. Melody’s pulled some strings--” He stopped, thinking about what he just said. “Er, used her connections to get her some opportunities to play in the city. You should check it out.”
Rocking his chair back and forth, Grey answered the next question with, “I don’t really have time to throw parties, or even go to them. Twilight’s told me about her friend Pinkie Pie and her famous party throwing talents, though. I’d like to do something like that for my friends. Too bad I’m dull and bad with things like that.”
Taking a moment to think of his next couple of answers, Grey idly asked, “Hey, before I finish this...eh, y’know, nevermind. Next question.
“The hardest thing I’ve ever done--and there are a lot of them, you understand--is probably using the street urchins as much as I have. I pay them, try to get as many as I can fed and off the streets… And I’ve been lucky so far. None have been hurt or...k-killed. But who am I fooling? It’s only a matter of time. Yet I continue to do so.”
He hangs his head, resting a hoof on his temple. He’s silent for a long time. Concerned, you begin to try and comfort him, but he holds a hoof, stopping you.
“”Last question. What annoys me most? Annoys really isn’t the word but…” The unicorn’s tone turns steely--cold and hard. Though controlled, you can hear the undercurrents of old, old anger. “Bigoted, heartless, bits for brains upper class unicorn twits,” he said, disgusted. “Really anypony who abuses those less fortunate than them. It pisses me off. Manehattan’s been a damned cesspool of suffering and crime because of ponies like that.”
Finished with his tirade, he let out a tired sigh. “There, that’s it. That’s everything you wanted to ask. Now--let’s stop fooling ourselves, shall we?”
Before you can ask what he means, the light on the table pops as its bulb explodes. The room grows dark, but brightens in a glimmering amber aura centered around Grey’s horn. You can see his face, hard and determined.
“No more games--I’m out of here!” he cried as the amber energy gathered into a rough, baseball-sized cube at the tip of his horn. “Move or I’ll Slug you. This is your only warning.”
Unsure exactly what he means, you step aside. Never turning his back to you, the hum of his magical energy buzzing, Grey sidesteps his way to the door, diverting a hair of magic in opening it.
“Well, in a way, it’s been fun. I don’t know what you’re game is, but remember: Manehattan is my town. If you’re planning anything--and I mean anything--even remotely below board…?” Suddenly the energy at the tip of his horn launches itself at the table, throwing it into the air and against the far wall. The table crashes loudly, twisting and bending despite its hard metal structure.
Your eyes had followed the table, but quickly you look back to the door.
It’s open, and empty. The unicorn, Grey Tiercel, is gone. You smile and wonder--is he in trouble again? Protecting the city he loves so dearly? Or maybe he’s gone home, off to meet his friends he cherishes so dearly. You look back at the table and sigh. You’ll have to replace it for the next candidate. But even still, you think to yourself, it was a worthwhile interview.
I may try and do this for some of my other OCs. It was fun and I learned a lot about Grey I didn't know before. Brought a little of the subconscious/background to light, which is always good.
Hell, maybe I'll try and do an anthology in a similar vein to this? Meh, but that'll be down the road. The EFG has only just started, after all.
Anyways, till the next, all. I'll be spending my next two days with a lot of writing, both on Big Red and The EFG.
I need to find more prompts like these.