I am trying to write a novel-length Twixie story as fast as I can, and will try to write 500 words a day. This may increase as I get more comfortable writing it. There are no current plans for publication.

Summary: Twilight hasn’t exactly had an enjoyable year. According to Equestria’s ruler, King Sombra, Twilight caused the disappearance of the ex-revolutionary, Celestia, obstructed the peace of the kingdom, and disclosed secret state information to dangerous radicals. But Twilight swears she was innocent. After a rough year of demonstrating her loyalty to Equestria and trying to hide from her infamy, Twilight, broken and bitter, now wants nothing more but to spend the rest of her days in Ponyville living in peace. But after a showmare arrives with an unordinary request, Twilight finds that this mare may have something to do with the mysterious disappearance of Celestia.
Tags: Alternate Universe, Tragedy, Romance, Dark
Ratings: M

Twilight bathed in the moonlight’s glow and was subsequently drowning. She tossed and twisted in wakefulness, pulling the covers over her head and unable to find the dull monotonous peace of unconsciousness. It was well past midnight, perhaps even past two, and Spike was lulled away, curled on his bedside, snoring away. But it wasn’t his snoring that kept Twilight up.

She opened her lead-laden eyes and swore she saw the full moon behind the curtains of her window. Big. Milky. Like a swan rising from a lake, poised in take off.

The moon beckoned Twilight and she heeded its call, though she did not want to. She turned to face the inside of her library and took to staring at a few bookshelves. She mentally started to shuffle books around, creating an internal checklist of stuff that perhaps she should start reading. And suddenly her eyes fell to a dusty corner of the room. She stood glancing at it and even as she looked away, she was unable to stop the images from forming.

A nearly empty bottle of wine. A roaring fire amidst the fireplace. Two ponies, one hesitant the other inconceivably willing. Two ponies, locked in an embrace, dancing under the full moon’s light.

The moon was everything that night.

And then Twilight groaned; she contained herself from shouting and waking up Spike. She gulped, and then Twilight’s eyes burn and more images came to her, unwillingly.

A pony in the darkness. The screams.

Not again! Twilight thought and slammed her head against the pillow. Her friends! She had to think of her friends.
She saw them waiting for her in the train station, a smile on each of their faces. Then, Pinkie bombarded her, and slammed her to the ground with a fierce hug.

For a moment, Twilight’s breathing went back to normal. Her heart rate lessened. And then she tossed yet again, and saw the giant celestial body still stalking her window side.

Twilight said and sat up in her bed, her eyes drooping, looking at the seat of her covers. She grew lost in its swirly designs, lost in the maze she had formed in her mind. “This is ridiculous,” she said to no one in particular. But the clock, ever present, answered.

The clock read a quarter past three. It ticked and tocked, and Twilight listened to it until all her thoughts had drowned and died, listened until it was the only living breathing thing awake at this time.

But her eyes fell to the bookshelf and to the moon and the slowly sleeping dragon next to her. The night was too animated, and so Twilight sighed.

“Might as well get to work.”

***

Total Words: 450

4648742 Don't get down over not hitting your quota. You've got a good start so far, so keep going!

4652305
Aw, thanks for the words of encouragement. I really do like the concept of this group, as well as the fact that you can basically publish it without actually publishing it. So thank you for making it.

Update: Every 5000 words or so (tentative number) I'll give an update about my overall feelings of what has been written (especially those cringe-worthy lines, that pesky passive voice, and those atrocious adverbs). I will write at least 3500 words a week (ideally 500 a day). It should be noted that the word count is more or less +/- 10 because while I'm trying to write this in one go, I'm still fighting the need to edit.

***
By six o’clock in the morning, Twilight was on her third cup of coffee. An hour later, she had fallen asleep face-down on her desk. It was Spike’s call that awoke her.

“Twilight? You fell asleep studying again?”

“Huh?” Twilight rubbed the drool out of her mane. Her neck hurt. “Spike? Ow...What time is it?”

“It’s almost time for the library to open.” Spike kept coming in and out of the room, holding a different stack of books each time. “You didn’t even eat breakfast, huh?

“No.”

“Gah. Twilight you said—”

“I know, I know! I’ll take better care of myself.”

“You always say that. And last week, I found a bottle of cider—”

“Please, Spike; I know. I just had a really rough night, okay?”

Spike looked at her, the corners of his mouth drooped and his eyes widened. “You’re not…I mean, this isn’t going to be a repeat of Manehatten, right? I mean...” The little dragon kicked at the floor, fumbling for words.

“What do you…Oh, Spike, of course not!” Twilight said. Never again, she thought.

“Twilight, if you ever need anything, you know I’ll always listen and try my best to make you feel better. Even though we’re not in the university anymore, that doesn’t change the fact that I’m your number one assistant…”

Twilight smiled. She walked over to Spike and enveloped him in a hug. “I know you’ll always be there for me, Spike. You’ve done enough these past months, and I can’t thank you enough.”

The two made their way downstairs to the main floor of the library. Spike continued sorting out the books and Twilight helped him. Though this sort of work was reasonably simple compared to Twilight’s old professorship at Canterlot University, having Spike at her side had always been a familiar and gratifying presence. She would write papers; he would sort them out. She would read books; he would categorize them. He was like a fifth hoof, always ready to get what Twilight needed, and she was grateful he was continually at her side. He had even helped her set up her lab downstairs, getting various and much needed instruments while she read up on the wordy protocols, as well as hypocritical laws and rules about the business.

It was not library business.

Still, being upstairs surrounded by books, books that weren’t necessarily hers but were still books she was able to read, was far better than working in a lab. Twilight thought she was quite lucky to be in a library, and time and time again, she thanked Applejack for attaining this particular lodging for her and Spike. A library was the safest, familiar, and perhaps the most boring—to some ponies at least—place there was. Twilight however didn’t think a library was boring at all. Books, being surrounded by books, the smell of books, categorizing them, even restoring them, everything related to books made her feel safe. Books kept her away from the world, from Canterlot, from that dreadful night oh so many moons ago.

Most of them time at least.

As he opened the door, the bell jingled. Spike began sweeping and also turned the sign from ‘closed’ to ‘open.’ It was early and unlike the Cakes’ Bakery or Flat White’s Espresso Bar, the Golden Oak Library barely saw any early morning customers. Perhaps a couple of fillies would scramble to finish their homework or borrow a book before trotting off to class, but for the first hour at least, no ponies were present.

“Hey, Twilight, Pinkie Pie wanted me to stop over and pick up some muffins. Do you want anything else?” He leaned the broom near a bookshelf.
“You both know what I like. I trust you.”

Spike gave her his sharpest smile and said, “Okay! Back in a bit.”

With her assistant gone, Twilight gazed around the room too look at his handiwork*. He had many books to catalog and input into their system; he had cards to update; he had budget reports to write. When the two of them had first moved to Ponyville, that job was originally given to Twilight. Applejack, using her good graces with Mayor Mare, had secured the Ponyville Library for Twilight and Spike, after her own fall from grace, to live in, and the only requirement needed by the mayor was that they take over and run the library like actual librarians. Getting a certification was no problem for the duo and they fell into their role quite, and almost too, easily.

But simply escaping to Ponyville wasn’t enough. Twilight needed something else. And after one long night of drinking with Berry Shine, she had found a solution.

Her lab in the basement.

Her business.

Twilight trotted downstairs… Her horn glowed and the light above her flickered on. A ferocious bubbling and roaring sounded on opposite ends of the room and a row of desks were lined in the middle. On several sides were several chalkboards, each corresponding to different experiments and scribbled with not-so-random notations, quotations, and equations and various formulas.

Twilight walked to a table filled with random, unrelated objects. On each item, there was a tag with notes written. Due in three days, said one. Make sure it turns off every night at four in the morning, another tag stated. Her eyes strayed to a pristine golden horn.

Keep dust out. Keep sound reverberation “pure.” Twilight frowned; perhaps she should refuse this customer. She didn’t want to get in troub—she smiled and shook her head. In trouble over a trumpet? No, there were worse things. Still, she would refuse this one. Her hoof moved to the next item, but before she could look at the tag, there was a faint sound from above.

“Hello? Anyone here?”

Ah, I forgot Spike isn’t here!

“Hello?” A blue head peeked from the top of the staircase; she had a curious look as she entered.

“S-Sorry, this room is for employees only. I’ll be right up!” Twilight sprinted up the stairs, trying to prevent the mare from taking any further glances; she slammed the door behind her.

Still slightly out of breath, Twilight looked around to find her customer. She saw her in the references bookshelf, a midnight blue unicorn wearing a simple black cape.

“I apologize. We don’t usually get customers in the morning.” The unicorn was smiling, though Twilight didn’t think she was smiling at any particular book. “But, welcome to the Golden Oak Library. How may I assist you?”

“Trixie's not here to borrow a book,” she said and Twilight saw her smile deepen.

Word Session Count: 1100
Total Words in Document: 1556

4652769 You got anything written down today?

4655272

Yeah, I was able to, but now I’ve started second-guessing myself, wondering if I really want to write this particular story…

***Note: I made a mistake last session and forgot about Trixie’s illeism. So I edited that and a mistake with the name of the Golden Oak library. (I won't check over what's posted until a chapter has been completed.)

“…Trixie?”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie at your service. Or…should she say that she’s at your service?” she began to pick up a book at random, skimming through its pages. She stopped at one page in particular, snorted and rolled her eyes, and with her magic, placed it back on the shelf while grabbing yet another book, what Twilight knew to be a filly’s guide to stage shows and puppeteering. She did this for several books.

At least she’s putting the books back, Twilight thought, but felt overall apprehensive about the mare. She hadn’t been in the business long enough, but she certainly had a variety of clientele.

Most customers were surprised when they walked in the library; their eyes darted around, tearing apart walls, dissecting every section, inspecting books as if they didn’t truly believe it was a library. Then they walked around as if they had a limp; they hunched around, huddling close to the bookshelves, and covered themselves with scarves brought in as a disguise. When they saw Twilight, they would scramble with their words, some muffling and speaking in hushed whispers that Fluttershy would most definitely approved of. Others chirped or squawked away, trying to let their order in one breath, some even boasted about what they wanted as if they were trying to impress Twilight with their creation.

“Isn’t it neat?” they would ask.

Then there were the opposite customers, ponies who wanted to cover up their embarrassment about what they wanted to order; they meandered around the subject and would converse with Twilight, or perhaps Spike, about borrowing books. The discussion would last anywhere from two minutes to two hours; Twilight didn’t mind these customers however. Usually, she loved talking more about books than about business, but after continual the dodging of question after question, trying to get the direct answer for the reason of their visit, sometimes Twilight would get fed up; she’d forced them to fess up, and in resulted they’d finally speak and drop the item on her desk or they’d drop out completely.

Each customer, Twilight had noted, was shady in their own way. Each of them had something to hide.

Twilight, hadn’t realized she was staring at the blue unicorn, and when she looked up with a “well?” look, Twilight shook her head, frowned, and walked over to a ledger. With a quill in place, she began writing. “I’m not cheap.”

“Trixie knows.”

“I also require half the payment upfront; the other half, when it’s finished.”

“Money isn’t an issue for Trixie.”

“And I have several orders in my backlog so—”

“Trixie can be patient!” The book slammed in midair and Twilight looked up from the writing. The mare no longer smiled, her eyes held their place on Twilight’s figure, and Twilight felt as though she was scrutinizing her. “How fast can Trixie have her item?” Trixie’s eyes narrowed further, as thin as a book cover.

Twilight didn’t like that look. “It depends on what it is.”

Trixie stared, and Twilight stared back, both frowning, both analyzing the other. This was one of her dangerous customers, Twilight decided. She knew exactly what Twilight was, exactly what she was capable of, and perhaps…

“…You’re Twilight Sparkle, aren’t you?” Her eyes flickered, and Twilight saw a flame ignite in them. A grotesque smile flashed on her face, and she shoved the book she was scanning on an incorrect spot on the bookshelf. “Professor Twilight Sparkle?”

Twilight ground her teeth and was the first to look away.

“I’d like to keep this conversation strictly business-related if you don't mind.”

Word Session Count: 598
Total Words in Document: 2197

Sunday, August 23, 2015 + Monday, August 24, 2015

“Oh, but this is business-related Twilight Sparkle, don’t you know? Trixie need to know exactly what she’s paying for; Trixie needs to know exactly who she’s paying paying for; and she need to make sure she gets exactly what she wants.” Her faced crinkled. “Well, what Trixie’s boss wants, anyways…”

Twilight resisted the urge to cringe; the way Trixie was talking about her services was…well, seemed highly inappropriate.

But then, Twilight thought, that notion wasn’t far-fetched.

“Trixie had her doubts.” The mare walked in circles, her eyes closed as if thinking of some fond memory. “My colleague raved about your results, about the impeccable enchantments, the fluidity of its mechanization, but Trixie wasn’t convinced until she brought over your work. Do you remember that oddly-shaped funnel and that rusty paintbrush?” She didn’t wait for Twilight to answer. “It did indeed catch Trixie’s attention—and how did you ever get it to color within the lines? Anyways, she was impressed and it takes a lot to impress Trixie!”

Twilight rolled her eyes, but Trixie didn’t noticed.

“She, however said nothing about the actual enchanter involved; she said nothing about you.” Her eyes glinted as she opened them.
“I prefer to let my work speak for myself.”

“Were you really fired from the university or did you quit yourself?” Twilight felt her blood boiling. “But really, what a place to hide; is that why you moved to this backwater country, a town in the middle of nowhere?”

“Where I conduct my services does not concern you.”

“You couldn’t get some meager teaching job or something, Professor Sparkle?”

“Do you need my services or not?”

“Yes, Trixie does.”

“Then, like I said, I’d like to keep this conversation strictly business-related. Or else you can take your needs elsewhere.” Twilight ground her teeth again. Her hooves dug into the wooden flooring and she was afraid would snap her quill.

“But it’s much more interesting to talk about you. You don’t meet the harbinger of Equestria’s doom every day. Tell me, did you really help Celestia escape?”

“One last time. Talk business. Or leave.”

Trixie smiled that misshapen grin. There was a silence. And what was taking Spike so long anyways?

“Fine,” Trixie said at last. From her saddlebag she took out a simple Erlenmeyer Flask and a round beaker. “I need these to be able to withstand extreme temperatures.”

“You’ll need to be more specific. Extreme temperatures could mean as hot as the Saddle Arabian desert when you actually mean as hot as the underbelly of Tartarus.”

“I’m not sure exactly.”

“I can’t work with vague descriptions.”

The mare made a face as if she was counting the number of books in the room. She scratched her chin, then her head. “How about…as hot as the sun?” There was a pitiable laugh added and she smiled as something Twilight couldn’t see.

Now it was Twilight’s turn to scratch her head. Number rolls in her head, equations, mathematical formulas, ley lines, magnets and magnitude calculations, heat spells. The idea was staggering and Twilight felt a pressure grow inside as figures stacked higher and higher.

“I…I’m flattered I suppose that you’ve come to me with this task, but I don’t think it’s possible. The temperature of the sun is… [math + stuff inserted here]. It’s impossible to bottle the sun. No pony can bottle up the sun.”

“Oh?” Trixie had taken another book off of the history section. “You of all ponies, Sparkle, know that’s not true.”

“What do you mean?”

“One pony was able to contain the sun. Just one. And you worked your whole life with her …” Perspiration started to gather on Twilight’s forward as Trixie levitated the book towards her. With a loud thud, it dropped on her ledger, a mote of dust spreading upwards and in the air. Twilight looked at the cover. It was a recognizable and highly acclaimed history book, a book that Twilight had probably read half a dozen times. It told of a rebellion a thousand years ago, how an usurper gained rightful control of the Equestrian realm; it detailed plans, told tales of lives lost and communities destroyed. It told of what happened to the rebels, the radicals, criminals of war, and it alluded to modern day. On the cover was a trifocal of three ponies, all very familiar, all enticing feelings that Twilight didn’t want to feel. One was their rightful leader and king, Sombra the Usurper, his eyes and horn glowing glossy green, a shower of crystals raining down in his raw power.

Below him were the two rebels, two sisters, a nearly unstoppable force. Celestia with her face constructed in envy, grimaced at the divine king above, a beam of light trying to penetrate Sombra’s visage. Celestia, her boss, her mentor, her idol. Missing now, and oh how Twilight missed her so much right now, but it was her warmth she had always enjoyed. Her kindness. Her wisdom. She was nothing like this flimsy book caricature. Nothing at all. With a dark silhouette behind her, next to Celestia stood her sister, controller of the moon.

Luna.

Twilight felt her heat sink. Overhead, she heard Trixie babble on.

“Let’s pretend that Celestia needed to use it to boil something really hot.” And once again, Twilight saw that all too casual smile. “Think you’d be able to make it?”

The book on Twilight’s ledger rose and slammed behind into the bookshelf behind Trixie, nearly nicking her ear. Startled, she jumped to the side. Twilight’s hooves dug into the wooden post in front of her; she dropped the quill.

“Is this some kind of a joke to you?”

Word Session Count: 942
Total Words in Document: 3135

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

“I just wanted to see if the rumors were true.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but you can take your business elsewhere.”

“Aw, come on. Don’t be like that,” the mare pranced over. She lazed on Twilight’s ledger, standing upright and resting her head on a hoof.

“Please, leave,” Twilight said.

The door jingled and they both turned as Spike entered, one arm holding a paper bag and the other, a coffee cup. Twilight could smell the roasted beans from where she stood and felt the energy drain as she watched Trixie notice of Spike.

“Oh, um. Hello there,” Spike said in his most cordial voice. He glanced at Twilight, saw her scowling, then looked at Trixie and grew suspicious. Twilight made a signal with her eyes and he nodded. “We don’t usually get customers at this time. Have you already been helped?”

“Yes, she has. Thank you for asking, Spike.” Spike placed the bags he was holding on a reading table near the door. “She was just about to leave. Can you escort her out?”

“You’re making a dragon do your dirty work?” Trixie laughed.

“You aren’t here for a book, so I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“But what if I am here for a book? I’m visiting, you know. From Manehatten.” Spike trotted up to the ledger. He looked at Twilight, waiting, and Twilight shook her head.

“I found it highly suspicious if you’re unable to find the book you need at the Manehatten public library branch.”
“You never know. What if somepony stole it? Or perhaps…burned the book?” It had seemed as though she posed that as a joke; she had said it so casually, with such an arrogant grin, the bottom of her teeth showing, and her tongue clicking away, but her eyes said it differently. Applejack would have known if she was lying, she thought.

“Library security should be able to know right away if a fire started.”

“You see, you do understand!” she whipped her cape around and stood with her tail facing Twilight. “Someponies have a way with things, don’t you know? Now, where is your Arcane Arts section?”

“Aisle seven,” Spike said before Twilight could stop him. And when Trixie opened her mouth—she was probably too lazy to actually look for the aisle, Twilight lifted a lazy hoof towards one end of the room. Trixie ‘s eyes scanned the bookshelf and she used her hoof to aide her. It was a slow, delicate “search.”

“Trixie can offer you more than money, you know,” she said, not minding that Spike was still in the room. It didn’t affect Twilight either way; though she never included him in business proceedings, he was the one ultimately who helped keep her business intact, and that included instrument shopping, accounting, time management, even secretarial work.

“I don’t think I’m interested in whatever services you might offer,” Twilight almost laughed.

“Like, Trixie said, don’t be like that. She really needs this object, and you’re probably the fifth enchanter she’s asked. Trixie needs this bad or else her boss will get mad at her. Trixie can offer you other stuff if you want.”

Author's Note: Didn't make it in today, but I did yesterday's words. I'll hope to write 1000 and post tomorrow. Friday, August 28 until Sunday, August 30, no words will be posted because I will be focusing on the monthly Writeoff competition. In other news, I almost gave up with this particular scene because I worried and very frustrated about quality over quantity. Most advice advise against that. Write now. Edit later.

Word Session Count: 525
Total Words in Document: 3661

4666788 Dang, your story's coming along fine. Over 3000 words Right on!

How's it been going the past few days?

4666932

Wednesday, August 26, 2015: 0 words
Thursday, August 27, 2015: 0 words

No words for this project, but I managed to get something down for something else. I'm not really sure how I feel about this--okay, honestly, everything seems expendable. it's lackluster, it's forgettable, and it just doesn't seem very good. Not even mediocre. Perhaps it's because I hate beginnings, but I need to figure out why I'm just so unhappy with it. A lot of things are bothering me about this.

This scene should be coming to the end, but I wasn't sure how to correctly phrase things. Maybe the next scene might be better for me.

4669126 I've heard that when this happens, a beneficial thing to do is to skip the scene entirely and begin the next one. The important thing to do is finish; after that, you can go back and edit it. That's the purpose of this group: to make people finish projects that they otherwise wouldn't.

At least that's what I think.

4669126 Don't give up, man!

4669178
Don't worry. Not giving up. I took an obligatory break to work on WriteOff stuff, so we hope to get back to our regularly scheduled program soon! You're right about the scene break so I'll see if can either quickly end this scene or just start on the next one.

Gah, I missed three days! I was doing so well!

Hopefully 2000+ by tomorrow.