//------------------------------// // We arrive. // Story: Puppet, Puppet, Puppet. // by FiMFigment //------------------------------// The puppet wakes up and looks around. There seems to be grass on the ground, mountains in the very distance, a little town not too far from where the puppet stood, at the edge of a dark forrest. Has she ever stood before? Has she ever had a physical body? Has the puppet always been referred to as a she? The puppet had many questions, she knew that beings with thought lived in towns, created them, even. Maybe beings with thought could tell her where she was and what was happening? So the puppet started trotting towards the town. Do they know that the creator is gone? The deity? The god? Were they even made by the creator? They had to be. The creator...created everything, by extension even the things his creations built. But she didn't know if this place was part of everything. There are more things than everything, infinitely many. The creator was all powerful, but what if there was more power than all? Wait...why is she being blasphemous? Why is the puppet thinking so much? It can't think! This worries the puppet. But it can't worry! It can not feel. Weren't there two others? Or did she imagine them? Can she imagine? One of the voices would have told her. Maybe her creator would have told her, but now the puppet is all alone. Nopony around to help her. Nopony to care. No god to play with her. The puppet reflected on that. Can she reflect? Reflecting and thinking are different things, thinking creates new ideas and knowledge from basic blocks, while reflecting looks at knowledge to understand parts you didn't notice at first. Thinking builds up knowledge, reflecting breaks it down. A mirror has no mind and can not think, it can reflect, however. But she wasn't a mirror, she was a puppet. It doesn't fully matter whether she can think or not, whether she feels, whether reflecting is thinking. Her existence had been capsized and she didn't know what to do. Not even the (imaginary?) voices knew what to do. Well, only one cared for what to do, the other cared for the puppet. It made her want to find a new purpose, and focus on other things... ... The grass felt nice. Soft, a bit of dew, and cool. Since when can the puppet feel? Not the emotional type of feeling, which it can't do, the physical type of feeling. Had she always had touch, or did it come with...everything? The sky was blue. She knows she can see, she had seen the unseeableness of her creator. The puppet supposes that, however, "seeing" a deity is an oxymoron in and of itself. But she did see parts of the god, and she knows she saw the child of the god as well. [Bump] "Oh, I am sorry, Darling," a pony in front of her said. The puppet must have been so focused looking up into the sky that she entirely forgot to look where she was walking! "Sorry," somepony else said. She looked around, but nopony else was there. Had she....? Had she spoken?! She can't speak! Puppets don't speak! Panic. PANIC. PANIC! PANIC!!! Rarity was looking at the pony in front of her, the poor mare seemed to have some sort of panic attack. She looked more frightened than Fluttershy when she suddenly stands in the limelight. The pony was breathing quickly and had this deeply worried look on her face, as if she thought Rarity may attack her at any moment. Maybe she recognized her and got flustered? "Don't worry, dear, it is quite all right. Calm yourself," Rarity tried her best to seem soothing and comforting. "I- I- I- I can't speak!" was all the mare could respond. "You seem perfectly capable of speech to me, darling, would you like to...go...drink some tea?" Fluttershy likely knew how to get somepony out of a panic attack better than she did, she did get stressed every now and then, but this was excessive! "T- T- T- Tea? That s- sounds w- w- w- w- wonderful, thanks," the mare responded while breathing faster and faster. "Well...follow me, then." The two went off. While walking, Rarity used the time to study the mare she had stumbled across a little bit. She noticed that the pony seemed to be in perfect condition, that gave her quite the hoof full of ideas for dresses, and she had a light brown coat. The coat seemed similar to...crema on coffee or a birch tree, which would make dress colours a bit more limited, but still no challenge for the fashionista. The only real oddity about the pony was her style of walking. She walked as if limping everywhere, hopefully she hadn't hurt herself when she ran into Rarity. Or maybe she was just very tired. But the mare's steps where short, her forelegs only doing small flat movements forward, and her hind-legs being dragged behind h- The strange pony had no cutie mark! "You don't have a-!" Rarity exclaimed before regaining her composure, "It is interesting to see a mare of your age without a cutie mark." "Without a what?" the mare responded. She must be joking! Right? Rarity wanted to be sure, so she pointed to the trio of gems on her flank. "Ah," the pony simply stated. Does she truly not know- Rarity noticed the mare's eyes widen. She quickly said, "Eh, Puppet, not mare!" What? "Excuse me?" "You said mare...it's Puppet," she curtly said. "Is your name...Puppet?" "Yes?" was the unsure response Rarity got from the mare. "Puppet it is! So, darling, since you seem to have calmed enough for conversation, may I know what business you are here to attend?" Rarity decided to begin some smalltalk. "I...am here to find...purpose?" "You don't seem very sure of that, dear," Rarity pointed out. "I...don't know what I am doing here, exactly. I shouldn't be here, I shouldn't be able to do this," Puppet seemed stressed about her statement. "Well...I think everypony should be here, I am not sure what to make of the rest, darling...why don't we get you some of that tea first?" Rarity said as the two approached her boutique. She would have to get a hold of Fluttershy as quickly as possible, and possibly Twilight as well. Rarity grandly opened the door, "Welcome, to the Carousel Boutique!" And the two entered. [Crack] An egg cracks. Dark. [Crack] Like black onyx. Like pitch. [Crack] It splits open. What? "No, I can't be in the right place!" an annoyed unicorn exclaimed. "Sir, this is one of only three toy stores in Canterlot. If you are looking for a puppet, it will be here," the tour guide replied. "No, NOT A puppet, THE Puppet!" "If you require a lost and found, we have a few of those set up at guards stations around the cit-" "I see that you can sadly be of no help to me. Thank you for your time, goodbye!" The unicorn left in a huff, leaving the tour guide to only guess why that unicorn was so frustrated. Probably the descendant of some nobles, ugh, but it is part of his job to deal with all customers.