//------------------------------// // chapter 25. Theories // Story: Becoming Fluttershy // by Hope //------------------------------// I awoke to silence. The world around me sleeps in the pre-dawn peace. Dragging myself to my hooves, I pull the tent flap open and take my first few steps into the chilly air. The darkness is comforting. I once spent nights awake, reading and writing by candlelight. I suppose I have always been a lover of the night. As a pony I would wake early to catch the night before it ended, and as a human I would spend more time awake during the night than the day. The grass was cool and comforting against my legs, but I felt like something was missing. My sunglasses were shattered in a spray across a Walmart parking lot, my hat was back in the tent, Angel was a universe away. I finally remembered Mrs. Buzzy. The stuffed model of myself I had purchased from that same Walmart just before the attack. I slowly stepped through the dew covered grass to the car, struggling with the handle for a moment before popping the door open and fishing the black, yellow, and pink plushie from inside. The door closes with an echo, unimaginably loud in the still air. I turn back in preparation to return to camp, but I hear a series of footsteps growing closer. “Hello? Is someone there?” I call out nervously. I had been shot yesterday, and how could I know if anyone was part of that group? The figure that stepped from the shadows did not match my fears. The unnaturally skinny man was wearing a hat with blue ears sew onto it, and a “20% cooler” shirt. Obviously a brony. “Oh, hello.” I say with a smile. “Oh, hey there Fluttershy, um... I’m part of the night guard, wanted to make sure no one was breaking into your car.” He said with a tired smile and a shrug. “Night guard?” I ask, confused. He chuckles, pointing to a pin with an image of a Lunar Guard on it. “Yeah. When that stupid Papa thing started, a bunch of us got together. Made a Solar Guard and a Lunar Guard. Not many of us, but we made it our goal to organize help for traveling ponies when we can. I happen to live nearby and when I heard what happened I got a bunch of people together, there is a roadblock we set up, with some police help.” He explains, leaning against a tree. “Thank you. I was worried we were defenseless in the park...” I hug the plushie to my chest. “Hey, the world is a happy place. I’m sure you all will be able to beat Discord. See you later.” He abruptly turned and left through the trees. The beam of his flashlight cutting through the still darkened trees as he went. The sun was starting to brush the sky ever so slightly blue as I made my way back to the tents. I had not thought about Discord since the change of the calendar. He was a god, he had power I could only imagine through the one time I had met him. He had twisted my mind with just a touch, and I had nearly destroyed any chance at defeating him just by being cruel. Sitting down in front of our tent, I hugged Mrs. Buzzy tightly, closing my eyes. If we could get the elements together.... If we could gather and befriend each other... If we could somehow corner him long enough to use the power of the Elements to return this all to it’s rightful order.... So many hypotheticals that I have to wonder if we have a chance. I open my eyes and I look at the sun starting to make its way into the sky. We have to, there isn’t another option. I see Reid climb out of his tent with a neutral expression on his face. It really is odd to see Pinkie so melancholy. Without warning he starts to hum, and then shortly, sing. “Wake up in the morning, it’s a brand new day ahead...” he sings quietly. I giggle at the upbeat tune and lyrics. “You always so happy in the morning? A small and dark smirk steals over his face as he continues. “...the sun is bright, and the clouds smile down, and all your friends are dead.... but the ocean is so friendly, the big bright blue diamond stratosphere, and you know you’re going to have buckets of fun, as soon as you can get out of here...” I raise an eyebrow and shake my head, amused. “So.. no. Not happy in the morning. That is a pretty dark song to be singing.” “I didn’t write it!” he says quickly. “And hey, it has a nice beat. Come on.” He continues cheerfully as I watch the sun still rising. “Runnnning from Skipper Plumbthroat, last night he murdered all of your friends... hiding, from, Ski Per Plumb Throat, Gottaaaaa run from your end....” Admittedly the upbeat tempo is energizing, and before I know it I am humming along to the morbid words. I can’t help but smile at the absurdity of it, shaking my head as I do. As he rolls up his sleeping bag, a new verse of the song begins. “He came last night while you were all asleep, and you narrowly avoided death.... you hid behind a rock while he got to work, now there’s no buddies to tangle with...” During the song, my thoughts have gotten badly side tracked, I am thinking of the kid who was part of the Night Guard, and his assurance that we would be able to succeed in our little quest. I interrupt the song. “Quick question.” “Do you think we will be able to defeat discord?” I ask. “Defeat.... Hmmm. What do you mean by defeat? Stop? Kill? Turn to good?” The last bit he chuckled at. I had to admit that was less than likely. “Stop. I just want him to stop hurting people,” I explain. “Ah. Well, probably. Assuming we’re in the subprime, anyway, but there’s no evidence we’re not. You have no idea what I’m talking about do you?” he says. I sigh, I had a decent knowledge of multiple universe theories, and my best bet was that he was referring to such. I lay back on the grass and look up at the now light blue sky. “I imagine you are staying so calm through all of this by assuming some sort of multiple universe theory. Sounds like something Pinkie would do. Subprime would mean we aren’t the true reality, and you would be assuming that the primary reality ha...” He waves his hooves frantically. “STOP WHOA! NO TRUE REALITY. Okay. Rewind.” He takes a deep breath and starts to explain his theory. “Yes, there are primes that sing louder than other universes and cause echos, but that doesn’t make them any less real. Everything happens somewhere, right?” I smile and look over to him sadly. “Semantics.” “Not so! To assume writers create is to attribute godhood.” For a moment I get a mental image of Pinkie in a suit at a chalkboard trying to explain physics. “You are a pink pony. Talking about multiple universe theories,” I point out. He very pointedly ignores that bit. “You ever play the Myst series?” I nod but then I look away with a hint of confusion. “Well... I remember them, keep in mind I also remember raising Angel bunny so I don’t have as tight a connection to my memories as you do.” Apparently this is good enough, as he continues. “Atrus versus Gehn. Gehn says ‘WE MAKE THE WORLDS!’ Atrus says ‘Nah, we just link to them.’ That’s my point here. Everything happens somewhere, so everything is fictional, depending on where you stand.” “So you are saying that you assume our world or existence is going to be one where we stop Discord.” “I assume that for us this is real and that for somebody in another universe this is just fanfiction,” he corrects me. “Or heck, original fiction and the whole MLP FIM phenomena was constructed for the sake of the plot. It all depends on where you stand. This could even be recursive fanfic, you know....” “My point is, the ‘Are we going to’ question can only be answered by action.” he clarifies. I sigh, yes he technically answered my question, but it raises a host of others. “Reid... I have spent a lot of time hurting. I have spent a lot of time trying to find reasons for that pain. If I start to think that some being in some reality somewhere caused it directly? I will lose it.” His eyes go wide and he shakes his head quickly. “NO, this is not what I am saying. Okay, you write, right?” I shrug. “When I can, yes.” “And your characters always suffer something, major or minor. Are you inflicting it on them? Or are you just recording it?” I look over to him, not wanting to answer that question since I feel sick just thinking about it. “I never said I was a good person,” I say quietly. “You never said you were a bad one either.” he says helpfully. I shrug and return my gaze to the sky. “I don’t think I could write anymore. not as a mix of these two minds. It would be too painful. When I wrote in the past, I gained a certain.....” “Apathy?” he suggests. “Catharsis,” I correct. “I was able to take my pain and inflict it on a fictional character. I was able to release it and have some construct deal with it.” I wonder if some of the terrible painful things I had written were inflicted upon some poor creature somewhere. “And in this universe, they are a construct. But, given the sheer nature of infinity, they existed both prior and after your writings. What happened to them, BY CHANCE, matches up to what you wrote. And they also happen to have more experiences.” He says confidently. Personally I think he is making an excuse to avoid the moral sinkhole that such a theory would spawn. Does a writer have an obligation to treat their creations kindly since somewhere a true being is lining up with their character? “I think Pinkie is rubbing off on you a lot more than you let on.” I say with a small chuckle. “Nah, I did the whole multiverse thinking before Pinkie. Hmmm. Okay, take Fluttershy.” He still is trying to get his theory to work, to make it anything more than a terrifying idea. “I am Fluttershy.” I point out. “EXACTLY! So do you have any memories not from the show?” He asks with a sly grin. For a bit I almost want to say no, but the more I turn inward, the more I realize he is right. “Yes. I remember, for example, the nightmare that Erica shared with me. I remember my childhood which was never shown.” “That’s my point. The fandom only knows Showshy, because that’s all that was written. But you are more than that. Therefore all characters are.” His theory begins to make more sense. “So since I existed and came to this world in which I was created separately, it proves your multiverses.” I clarify. “More importantly it proves that writers do not control the written. And, um, speaking of memories native to another universe....” He is suddenly interrupted by a very angry white unicorn. “SHUT UP I'M TRYING TO SLEEP STILL!” Julien shouts from the tent. Reid lowers his voice to a whisper to continue his line of questioning. “....yes, anway. Ahem. Me and Pinks still haven’t fully synthesized, so... there are, ahem, details that... I need to know... since, you know, male before, different species...” he says this all with a blush I can see even through his naturally pink fur, looking at the grass and rubbing the back of his head with a hoof. “Just in case it comes up. You know.” I smile and let a little giggle at his expense slip out before I take him away from the tents and into the rest of the park. Standing among all the trees, we find a comfy spot in the early morning light and settle down for a likely embarrassing conversation. “What do you need to know? Besides the most obvious bits.” I ask curiously. He snorts. “Since I have a different definition of obvious than most people, let’s start with ‘Lady bit maintenance’ and go from there.” I roll my eyes. Is cleanliness really that abnormal for guys? “You wash yourself. Besides that, mares go into heat once a year and you just either take lots of cold showers or steer clear of any stallions. Not a problem here. well, less of one.” my eyes shoot over to the tents as I hope that this doesn’t last long enough for that to be an issue. “Many fics suggest regular artificial relief might handle that problem.” he says with an awkward cough. Oh celestia, he is totally imagining pony masturbation isn’t he? I smile a little too wide and tilt my head to the side. “Hi, my name is Fluttershy. Not sure if you've ever watched the show or thought about what total recluse means, but I sort of never even thought about it. That time of the year I just spent a lot of time cleaning my house.” “Okay then. Good to know that.” he says with a small shake of his head. After a small pause, he speaks again but I do not expect him to say, of all things, “Lesbian pony sex.” I flush red and turn to him in surprise. “W...what?” “The pegasus I mentioned was married to a unicorn mare.” all I can think is that is one hell of a thin excuse to randomly say Lesbian pony sex. “Oh, random question: Transgender pins, real or fake?” I finally realize he is talking about fanfictions, and I take a deep breath to center myself before listing off points. “Are you talking about fanfictions? Um, okay so in order. There is homosexuality in Equestria, but sexuality in general is sort of a subdued thing compared to Earth. We don’t throw it around or make others pay attention to it.” “I don’t either, I just RPed it for the sake of the characters.” I am sorely tempted to roll my eyes at this, but I realize that I am just as guilty. “I know... I know, and Erica did that too. I did that, whatever. But in the end, Equestria is full of friendship. Most of the time couplings are based as much on how close and friendly two are then some sort of contract. Marriage is only around to give a legal basis for adoption and family structure, but it doesn’t mean anything different than close friends.” “You... do realize there’s more than one kind of close friend, right?” He points out, smiling as though I am missing some great joke. I shake my head. “Not in Equestria. A close friend is a close friend. Sexual interactions are so rare that usually a friendship doesn’t change after such a thing, since the friends were so close. Regardless, Transgender pins don’t exist because there are no Gender Identity issues in Equestria.” “Yeah, the fanfic basically had them as an excuse for the lesbian mares to actually have kiddos.” Another awkward pause and cough from the pink one. “Sooooooo just to be perfectly clear on where I stand: No sex before marriage, too many potential side effects, but okay with close friends.” I nod. “Sex before marriage is like driving a car before buying it. Not supposed to but it happens all the time.” “Should I mention I don’t have a driver’s license? I do have this though.” He says as he pulls the Element of Laughter out of his PJs. PJs which are quite snug and did not have a bulge underneath them when we started talking. “Where did you get that? I mean, you weren’t holding it a second ago.” I point out. “Um. I am wearing a shirt. A PJ shirt, but... it was under the shirt.” He says, smiling and shifting his eyes in a comical manner. I narrow my eyes and lean in a little. “Uh huh.” “Look, I can bend the rules of physics, okay? I don’t have the hammerspace yet but I’m getting there. More importantly, though, magic bling.” He waves it eagerly. “Yeah, it is good you have that. I wonder if the others have got theirs yet.” I can’t help but wonder if we would have trouble with that as well. Reid and I have been through hell to get ours, what were the chances that all four of the others would be so heavily assaulted as to earn theirs? Meanwhile Reid has been caressing his chin thoughtfully. “I think I got mine around ‘Cheerio Pip Pip.’” He says with a smile. Jacqueline walked up as we were staring at eachother, and interrupted our little reverie with something of far greater concern. “Linda won’t come out of her tent.” She said nervously. “What? Why?” I ask, worried for one of my newfound companions. Reid follows behind us, smiling broadly as he does his best to make me facehoof at my own question. “Well given the rash of mad hoof’s disease I’m guessing our Linda woke up this morning with a big fluffy tail...” He says, reminding me more of Pinkie than any human I’d ever met. “Har-de-har, I’m tired, okay?” I say, despite my grump, I do chuckle a little when he isn’t looking.