//------------------------------// // Prologue: Embodiment of Smiles // Story: The Pride of Dust // by Proud-Dust //------------------------------// Prologue: The Embodiment of Smiles • Phenomenon of Euphoria ________________________________________________________________________ “My existence is founded on one mare’s smile. I have long existed past my lifetime to sustain it. Do not make me consider your demise as such as well.” - Pinkie-Pie ________________________________________________________________________ The tearoom had a straining silence to it. The air was suffocating, staling with the age of ten years. The lone pony in the room was staring at a ripple in space. The pony’s hooves on the table, it was a fitting position to witness the world beyond this surface. The window through worlds showed the only thing that could appease the worn smile of the watcher. That smile. That pony that would find a way to put a smile on any sad face, the pony that could turn any frown upside down. Maybe she would grace the eyes of the overseer with the sight of her party cannon. A singing telegram could maybe touch the ears once again. The pony was worn out by time. The observer was stained with the dirt of aging. The spectator from an alien time axis was starting to show the first signs of age this unknown plane had to offer. The crease on the face, the crack of a wrinkle on that ever-smiling face: signs that would start to give the perpetual smiler a case of harsh reality. The pony with a frozen smile didn’t care. All the pony knew was that the aging didn’t affect the fuzzy feeling of that smile. For the existence of joy, that smile was the only thing keeping this pony going. The creak of the door signalled the arrival of a new guest. Bringing a new hue to the room was a pony whose demeanor matched his colors. His coat dimmed a dull brown and his proper mane and tail were coated in a hearty blond. His sapphire eyes were the only gems that told of his supernatural nature. He took innocuous steps towards the pony right before he explored the ever-so familiar experience of being tackled and suffocation. “Sup, Norm?” the grinning pony giggled. “Having… my… ribs… crushed… thank you,” the suffocating pony spluttered. “Oops… my fault, you alright?” the smiling pony processed to let up on the hugging. “I will be after a while. Thanks, Pinkie-Pie,” The phenomenon of normalcy spoke. A few seconds was the amount of time that Pinkie-Pie let pass before words started coming out of that mouth again. “So… what are they calling you this time?” Pinkie-Pie asked with a smile that could eat pig feed. “Gaia,” the entity called Gaia stated. “Really? What a strange name and it doesn’t even rhyme, well I guess you can rhyme it with papaya or pariah or fire or desire,” the pink pony rambled on. The dull pony couldn’t be bothered to figure out this abnormal existence, even by phenomenon standards, so he started to address the lone pony of the room. “Well, Pinkie-Pie, the reason I’m here is because of your request.” The pony said with a steady voice. “Okey dokey lokey, and…?” the pony with a still smile chuckled. “It’s been accepted, your specter is ready to be set.” The pony with a curve for a mouth started to ignite. Body heating up, brain pumping harder and faster, building and building up until the pony in front of Gaia became more than just a pony in shape. That moment disguised as eternity became a spectacle of glimmering fireworks and shining sparks. The rockets and comets becoming infused with the magic that light brought forth. An explosion of bangs and flashes satisfied the ears and the eyes with a flashiness that would shame most performers. The finale brought the big bang that bore the world as a spectacular finish. “Yeaaaa!” the now smouldering pony exclaimed. “Are you quite done?” the pony of normalcy asked. “As Alba as my witness, yes.” It was the first sensible sentence of the pink pony so far. “Good, now I have a request of my own.” “What’s up?” “Please stop this madness.” The atmosphere of the tearoom soured like the taste that a squeezed lemon would have to a tongue. The air of gentle banter gave way to the crack and thunder of a storm with no way out. Pinkie-Pie’s smile never faltered nor wavered but what the mouth couldn’t say, the eyes told of everything. “Huh?” “This isn’t normal. You should’ve made a few other worlds. Why are you so fixated on one world?” “We’re embodiments of phenomenons with the authority to create worlds and you’re questioning a sense of normality in that? Wow, they don’t call you the Defiler of Abnormality • Phenomenon of Normalcy for nothing.” “You know what I mean, why are you focusing all your advent on one world?” “Does it matter?” “This isn’t normal, normality brings a sense of order in the world, and you can’t just break protocol because you feel like it!” “Maybe I should bring up the teensy-weensy fact that we’re essentially specters? That we live outside Earth and we summon planets and boom bang like that? I admire your ability to consider normality in that, however fruitless that may be.” “Why are you doing everything for this particular world? What’s so special about it? Answer me, Phenomenon of Euphoria!” A shift in tone, the pony with a fixed smile began to look at the rip in space, the image like fabric ripping from the unsteady fingers of a toddler. A feel of melancholy tipped the pony’s face. “That smile,” the pony said with an air of confidence. An irritated expression took hold of the orderly pony, what was this pony thinking? “Then make new worlds! Create more smiles! Why must you limit yourself to one little tip of the lips!? There are limits to irrationality!” The filly-silly pony, with a grin as real as Gaia’s indignation, could only pity the ignorance of this misplaced pony. “There’s only one of her, she’s like… ummm… a marshmallow cake with chocolate icing, fluffy vanilla cream, a dash of gummy bears and bathed in a hot fudge bath!” “You’re a phenomenon! You can simply create another one of her! Why do you drop order, normality, everything here just to satisfy one stupid smile!?” Before those words escape his lips, Gaia realized that he wouldn’t escape. There was no escape for the storm about to take hold here. There was no change in the opposing pony’s lips but for a second in those eyes, he couldn’t mistake it. There was no emotion that resembled that smile. The smile stayed put though, never escaping from that face. Gaia’s face relieved at this fact. How naïve it was to assume that a pony’s anger could only be unleashed through the contorting of expressions. “Gaia, do you know what they call me nowadays?” the pony said with a smile as sweet as a chocolate cake. Gaia’s face clenched. That feeling of relief disappeared with that. Gaia tried not to recall that horrible scene. That dye of red decorating the floor like a grotesque flower. That frozen face on what was once fresh. Those works of mirth and light becoming the tools of renovation for the inside of a pony was the worst image. “Rapture of Deicide,” the doomed pony could only gulp. “Exactly, Sore Spot decided to be meany-weeny about my feelings and do you want to know something?” The pony didn’t want to understand this pony’s mind but there was no way out. “He’s gone, he will never remember me, his existence is nothing here now, and as we speak he’s probably having a great time being born on earth again now.” The listening pony could only gulp at his upcoming execution. “But here’s the catch, even though his existence meant nothing before, when people see my smile, that’s all his existence amounted to: the title of “Rapture of Deicide”.” Gaia was tearing up, his face anticipating the end. “So essentially, my smile has become his existence. When people see this smile, they see him. They see the sight he saw when I had my turn with him. They realize the fear he felt in that second before his end. My smile has become the world he lived in. I’m essentially keeping this man alive through my smile.” Gaia started to clutter his teeth, it was surely coming soon. His tears were slowly mixing with the fury of his despair to create a picture of pity, a dripping sound that echoed with the sound of regret. “So before you keep going, remember that scene. Remember that fear that held his eyes, that feeling in his stomach before I let it out, that realization that his existence, from then on, would only be equated with this simple smile.” If Gaia had pants, he would have surely wet them, the puddle surrounding him was proof enough. If he could wish death upon himself, it would be a far more peaceful alternate then the reaper before him. “Now, what were you going to say?” Throughout this entire ordeal, Pinkie-Pie’s tone stayed as sweet as milk chocolate and that smile remained as sweet as the taste of a blueberry muffin. Gaia was almost unresponsive, the beating of his heart being the only sign he wasn’t simply slaughtered. His unfocused eyes filled with dried tears told Pinkie-Pie everything he needed to know. Pinkie-Pie had a period of confusion before going to the task at hand, the specter. The poor pony wasn’t dead at least. Alba would simply send a pony to help him back to his own room. Pinkie-Pie tinkered with the ripple in the room. A strange apprehension stroked the mind of the lone pony of pinkest hue. Why did she want this? How did she find out? What was the point of this charade? A shrug left a lingering question in the now fresh atmosphere. How will this bring her happiness? A crushing sorrow clashed the heart of the pink pony. There was no turning back now. Pinkie-Pie realized the image of the specter, an exact likeness to the master. A sad smile became Pinkie-Pie’s face. The only thing left was to make her unspoken desire a reality. Pinkie-Pie pushed the specter through the erratic portal, with a soul burdened by grief. All that was left was to hope for one thing. For her happiness. Pinkie-Pie had a lingering determination in that face of pastel smiles. All for her happiness. Pinkie-Pie took the moniker of watcher once more and, once again, took to waiting for another glimpse of that smile. Original Upload Date (I'll call it the OUD from now on) = June 9th, 2012