//------------------------------// // 1. The Traveling Notebook // Story: Dysphoria, Arc 2: Ponyville // by thedarkprep //------------------------------// Dysphoria Story by: thedarkprep Arc 2: Ponyville 1. The Travelling Notebook Ponyville’s Market Square was busier than usual. Winter was by no means close, but its presence loomed in the horizon like a shadow that would envelop the world in cold winds and white powder at its first opportunity. To the average ponyfolk this shadow was no more than an acquaintance, a distant relative or old college roommate that stopped in town every so often to rekindle the fires of nostalgia by giving one the excuse to indulge in the childhood comforts of snowball fights and hot chocolate by the fire, spurring distant memories/traditions, and (as they often did) overstaying their welcome while their hosts tried to get back to their jobs and responsibilities. This old dance was familiar to all ponies, especially around Hearth’s Warming Eve, and posed no more than a passing inconvenience around the time for Winter Wrap Up. Farmers were not so lucky. For farmers, this looming shadow meant the end of their ability to harvest, and as such, posed as a more unwelcome visitor for them (like in-laws). For them, winter arrived uninvited (albeit expected), and proceeded to insult their livelihood, invade their homes, and make life stressful until their always inconveniently timed departure. However, the farmers of Ponyville had dealt with enough winters to have perfected a way to deal with the season. For example, all the farmers in Ponyville had finished their harvesting earlier that week in order to minimize the chance that an early snow would ruin any of their crops. They also did this so they would have time to count every part of their stock, and ration the amount each family would need to survive the winter. The rest of the stock would need to be sold as quickly as possible to avoid letting their produce go to waste. The general ponyfolk, much like overly-aware neighbors, had long ago learnt to recognize the signs of the farmers’ winter preparations. They realized that in their struggle to get rid of all their surplus stock, farmers were willing to haggle and give discounts on apples, carrots, and whatever else they sold that would be unimaginable during the rest of the year. As such, the Market Square struggled to contain the influx of ponies trying to stock up on food items that they didn’t necessarily need, but might want at the lowest prices available. The frenzy of voices yelling over each other and the confusion caused by the sea of ponies, each trying to get the attention of the attending pony at each cart, would have made Discord proud. Not unexpectedly, each and every pony caught up in the pandemonium failed to notice the sweet smell of carrot stew wafting down the street. The smell came from a house at the edge of the square, the house of a mare named Evening Rose. The outside of the house was nothing remarkable, just a small two-story house indiscernible from the houses at either side. The inside, however, had seen much change over the past few months. The walls of the house, which up until recently had been blank, now supported the weight of various frames containing pictures of Rose along with six very well-known ponies. Similar picture frames could be found on the previously bare shelves lining the living room wall, which also happened to contain gifts and various knickknacks Rose had either received or bought. All the furniture in the room sported a few scratches and one or two stains, which Rose had said she preferred to the store-ready condition it all had previously had. The way Rose figured, cuts and scratches on the furniture proved that it had been used, and served as reminders of the good times spent sitting, eating, and talking with good friends. In fact, the whole inside of the house had a worn appearance, with the exception of the newly repaired mirror at the bottom of the stairs, and Rose would have it no other way. Upstairs one could find the master bedroom. Granted, it was the only bedroom, but Rose referred to it as the master bedroom regardless: one of those old habits from Canterlot she had yet to drop. The room was slightly messy, with various scarves, jackets, and skirts littering the floor. The walls of the room were bare in comparison to downstairs, with the only frame being for a large painting depicting the moon and the night sky against a Manehattan backdrop. Still, just because there were not any picture frames in the room it did not mean that there were not any pictures. Instead, these pictures were tacked onto a corkboard hung on the wall slightly above the level met by Rose’s work desk. These pictures were different from the ones downstairs in two aspects. The first was obviously that they were not framed, instead being tacked directly onto the board. The second was that instead of each photo showing seven ponies doing an activity together, these photos showed Rose hanging out with each pony one-on-one. For example, there was a picture of Rarity and Rose at a fashion show when a designer had stopped at Ponyville to see the Carousel Boutique owned by Rarity, bringing his own models and designs with him. Next to it there were two pictures of Rainbow Dash and Rose after a Wonderbolts performance. Granted, they were mug shots; they had both been detained while trying to sneak into the athlete lounge after the performance, but Spitfire sorted everything out before they had been officially booked so it was ok. Next to those was a picture of Twilight and Rose reading from the same book, which was slightly above a picture of Pinkie Pie and Rose enjoying an “I’m glad you’re staying and that everything turned out ok in the end” cake. Other such pictures adorned the board, forming a grand collage showcasing Rose with each of her friends. She cherished these photos and the memories they represented immensely, which is why they were posted where she could gaze at them as she worked. The work desk was scattered with both pages detailing ideas for the improvement of sales and profit at Sweet Apple Acres (which Rose had been preparing for Applejack to review), and pages of various poems she had written to share with Fluttershy over tea. A purple bag lay next to the desk, its usual spot in the closet being unusable due to the closet actually having clothes in it now. The bag contained a bag of bits, a few notebooks, a few quills, and a rather old and torn green dress she kept for sentimental reasons. The last thing in the room was a bed on which Evening Rose sat. She was wearing a blue hoodie and a bluish purple skirt over her black coat. Her curled purple mane shined in the sunlight as she looked out the window, staring out into the market. She noticed Applejack dealing with a crowd of eager but rude customers. Rose could not make out what was being said over the steady roar of the swarm of shoppers yelling in the market, but she could tell she was arguing. “Good job Applejack, don’t let them push you around,” thought Rose. “Make them earn that sale you’ve already decided to give them.” What Applejack was doing was something that she and Rose had discussed beforehand. The idea was simple: act like you are really not going to budge on the prices and set the original price at 10% higher than the original “sale price” was going to be. Most ponies did not feel comfortable arguing for more than a 30% drop, meaning that there would only really be a 20% drop to the profit per apple, which was better than the farm had had in previous years. The key was acting. Rose was enjoying watching Applejack’s performance, but her rumbling stomach distracted her away from the window. “Well, it’s been twenty minutes since I turned off the heat on the stew to let it simmer,” thought Rose. “I should probably go downstairs and turn it back on so that it’s warm and ready to serve when Twilight gets here.” Rose took a deep breath, savoring the smell of carrot stew that now inundated every available space of her house. “She’ll probably be here soon.” Suddenly Twilight’s pet owl flew in through the open window, perching on the work desk. “Hey Owlicious, have a letter for me?” asked Rose, noticing the letter tied to his leg. “Hoo.” Rose untied the letter from the owl’s leg and began to read it. To: Rose, Hey, I’m sorry but I will be a little late to hang out tonight. I have one more thing I need to do involving that thing I said I wanted to talk to you about. I promise I’ll head right over as soon as I’m done though. I’ll tell you more when I see you. -Twilight P.S. Also, feel free to eat without me if you haven’t already, I’m sure you must be starving by now. Rose re-read the letter, wondering what Twilight could possibly want to talk about. She then pulled out some parchment and wrote a reply. To: Twilight Don’t sweat it. Take as long as you need, I can wait. Besides, it won’t be hunger that kills me if you take too long, it’ll be the suspense of what you want to talk about. See you soon, ok? -Rose Rose then tied the letter to Owlicious’ leg. “There you go, little guy. Tell Twilight I said hi.” “Hoo.” Then the owl took the skies. Rose sighed as her stomach grumbled again. “Hm… I did just tell Twilight I’d wait for her. It’d probably be in bad form to start eating now. Still, if I’m going to make it till she gets here I’m going to need some distraction.” Rose looked at her purple bag sitting next to the desk and smiled. “I guess this is as good a time as any.” From her bag she pulled out a notebook. Unlike the rest of her notebooks, this one was new, unopened, and unused. She grabbed a quill from her desk and then headed to her bed, reasoning that it’d be a better space for the writing she was about to do than the work desk. After taking a moment to make herself comfortable, she opened the notebook. Despite her current occupation, Rose was a writer at heart, and as such she had long ago adopted the idea of always having a traveling notebook with her. This type of notebook was special in that she made it a point to carry it with her wherever she went. The pages would be filled with the unorganized writings of diary entries, poems, short stories, observations, and notes of whatever happened to be on her mind when inspiration struck. She would often look back through these notebooks when she found herself staring down writer’s block, finding that life experience was the best of inspirations. Due to the events of the past few months, she had been too preoccupied to keep a notebook going, but now that life had settled down, she was eager to begin again. However, as she stared into the page she found herself lacking of words. “Beginning is always the hardest part,” she thought to herself. She thought for a couple of minutes on what to write before settling on an idea. She lowered the quill to the page. Journal 1: So this is the first entry on a new notebook and, as always, I’m not sure as to how to begin. I figured that a journal entry would be a good beginning as any. I must admit that I feel a bit guilty that I’m starting a new notebook, having never had the chance to finish the last one, but regardless of that guilt I must say it feels right. I am not the pony I was back then and, although that history belongs to me and I will use it for inspiration, it does not reflect the pony I have become. I am beginning my new life and as such, I need a new notebook. So, what’s new? I am living in Ponyville now. The move itself was a very big change for me; albeit one I did not have much of a choice in making. The small town is quaint when compared to the grandeur of Canterlot. It lacks the huge structures, the refined fashion, the nightlife, and the local library is maybe a 10th the size of the one at Canterlot University. And yet, I can’t help but feel like the town is all the better for it. The nights are quieter, the ponies are friendlier, and the town is more pleasant than most could imagine had they not lived here themselves... Yes, I’m still going on my midnight walks, but now they’re no longer an escape, they are simply walks in which I admire the beauty of Luna’s work. Speaking of friendly ponies, while all the ponyfolk living here have shown to be friendly, I should mention that I was specifically thinking of six mares with whom I associate frequently now. That’s right, I’ve made friends. My six new friends are Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Twilight, Rarity, and Pinkie Pie. The way I met them all is actually a pretty interesting story, which I must write about sometime in full detail. However, for now it will suffice to say that there was some confusion, some drama, and a lot of stress… But everything turned out ok. I have been spending a lot of time getting to know each of them individually and hanging out as a group, and I’m still blown away by how welcoming they have been since I arrived in town. Let’s see, what else? I’m still working for Applejack as a ‘business consultant’, improving the efficiency with which the Apples run Sweet Apple Acres. With winter fast approaching and the ending of the harvest season coming soon, I find that I’ve done about all I can do to fix the place, meaning I will need to find a new job soon. Still, it’s been a wonderful job and it will continue to be so for the few weeks I have left. So, there’s no downside to my new life, right? Well, kind of… If I were to pick out the one problem in my life right now is that I’m lonely a lot. For starters, I should mention that aside from my six friends, I have not yet met anypony in Ponyville face-to-face. I know who most of them are, having memorized the letters they left after the House Warming incident, but I’ve yet to actually introduce myself to anypony. The first part of that problem is that I don’t really give them much of a chance to do so around town. Despite being surer of myself and being less afraid, I’m still terribly nervous about meeting new ponies, lest news of my survival run back to Canterlot and to my parents. I know it’s an irrational fear at this point, but I still find myself using the back streets and only going out at the hours that other ponies are normally at home to avoid running into anypony. I also don’t really need to buy much since I buy most of my food from Applejack and all of my clothes from Rarity. That means that anything extra, like carrots, quills, and other necessities, are bought quickly and with little conversation. Still, I’m letting myself be seen by others more, even if it’s still minimal by a general public standard. Going to market, for example, to buy something that wasn’t apples was in and of itself an ordeal for me, but I did it. The second problem is that if I want to meet ponies, I have to go to them, which I’m never inclined to do. It’s strange really; I know that ponies did not visit the house when Script lived here due to him being very shy, as Pinkie told all the residents. At her request they had all stayed clear of the house. However, she had made it a point to tell them that Script, whom none of them had ever met, had left Ponyville and that his sister would be taking over the place. And yet, not a soul outside of the usual six mares ever stopped by. Rose stopped writing for a minute to gather her thoughts. Having the girls around has been great and they are, by far, the best friends I could ask for. But it’s becoming more and more apparent that I can’t rely on them completely for company. For starters, they are the famous Elements of Harmony, something that had been failed to be brought up until the 4th dinner party they had attended. This means that they have responsibilities to the Princess which often take them away at random and for indiscriminate periods of time. Still, even if they didn’t have these tasks to undertake, they still have their own lives and responsibilities. As much as I would like to steal every free second of their time… Rose paused and cast a guilty look out the window. She observed a very flustered Applejack arguing with another costumer, trying to secure an extra two bits for her family. Rose allowed her stare to stay steady for another second before returning to her notebook. As much as I would like to steal every free second of their time, I feel like such minutes are in short supply, and I feel guilty enough taking up the ones they are willing to spare. No, the answer is that I have to let go of my fears, get out there and make new friends. Not to replace the ones I have, but to add to them, and to do this I cannot sit here and wait for them to show up at my doorstep. I need to put myself out there and take risks, for better or worse. After all, taking risks is what got me here, and I feel like I’m doing alright. There was a knock downstairs, tearing Rose away from her writing. She looked out the window and saw that the sun was far lower than she remembered it being. “I’ll be down in a minute!” Rose yelled, as she quickly finished up her entry. Well, Twilight is here to talk and eat dinner with me. She’s been hinting at a big surprise but I’m still confused as to it might be. In any case, that’s all I have to report on my new life. More to come as it happens. Take care. Oh, and one more thing, I’m finally starting to be ok with this whole transgender thing I’ve been dealing with for a while now. I’ve come out, again not quite by choice, to my six friends and they have been very accepting. I’m actually living as a mare full time now. I’ll have to write more on that whole thing later, but right now stew awaits me. In any case, thank you for reading this future me, I hope I helped. -Evening Rose With that, Rose closed the book, placing it in her bag before heading downstairs. “Time to see what this ‘surprise’ Twilight has been hinting at is all about.”