//------------------------------// // Building a home // Story: Spare Parts // by Crack-Fic Casey //------------------------------// The Bookshelves looked different every time Twilight visited. It wasn’t real, of course; it was just a mental construct to aid in organization of such a massive amount of information. She had access to every little piece of knowledge in the entire world, and it took several mental tricks to keep herself from overloading her own mind. Back when she had started, the Bookshelves had been a featureless void. There was nothing but some shelves hanging in large amount of white nothingness. She hadn't thought to add more; after all, it was just a tool. But Rainbow had kept asking her questions. “So, is it a big room that’s white, or is it just a big amount of nothing?” “What do the bookshelves stand on?” “What kind of shelves are they?” Twilight had finally snapped back, telling the half-boiled detective that they were wooden. She hadn’t ever paid attention before; they had just been there. But ever since then, they had looked wood. She hadn’t bothered mentioning it for a few more weeks, but then Rainbow had finally persuaded her to leave the house for a short while. “It’ll be good for you,” she had insisted. “Get you some fresh air.” They’d gone to a library, to work on a case. Twilight was supposed to find something while Rainbow was a distraction. She’d ended up being forced to hide until night fell. It should have been terrifying, and it was. But then Twilight, out of boredom, had opened one of the books to read. Daring Do and the Quest for the Sapphire Stone. She had fiction in her Library, but she’d never read it. She probably had read some— Before —Back when she was a normal pony, but she couldn’t remember any of it. This was the first fiction story she’d read. And it had been amazing. Rainbow had to practically force her to escape, and they’d had to leave the book behind. When they got to the lair, the first thing Twilight did was go to her Bookshelves to try to finish the book. But the book was really long, and standing in a featureless void wasn’t very comfortable, so she added a beanbag chair. Simple, and it fulfilled its purpose without distracting from her studies. After that, she kept making little alterations. Since the Bookshelves was entirely mental, most of them was subconscious. The walls came first. Circular, wooden, and a soft brown. There was a window that gave light over her Beanbag, letting her read and keeping her warm. The stairs came next, leading to a corner of Planet Bookshelves that was all her own. She kept more personal details there, like the files on her... Family? ...On Rainbow Dash and Rarity. There were less necessary touches included here, like the poster of Starswirl the Bearded, or the oak desk with the old typewriter on it. She’d use the typewriter to compose her thoughts sometimes, writing journals in a place she knew nopony else would read. She had a bed in here; she couldn’t sleep here, but it seemed like something to have in a bedroom. She’d added a basement to do scientific experiments in, a television room and before she knew it… She’d made it a home. Not just a tool, but a refuge. A place of safety. Somewhere she could call her own. Her home. Her Library.