The Human

by StapleCactus

Cancelled, but I can finally explain!

Author's Note:

Ah, The Human. If truly there was a stronger contestant for the "What the hell are you doing? OP! OP!!!" I do not have it. This story has been the bane of OP haters' existence or something if the comments have anything to say about it. But I can finally just explain the story.

Chase acted the way he did because he didn't just come straight from Earth. He's been cursed to live out his life over and over on different planets with the extra bonus of being the main bad/good. Every world he visited, he would either help defeat some great darkness or be the bad guy. For the most part, he was the good guy, and the people of those planets taught him many things, helped strengthen his body to unknown heights. But being the good guy got tiring. If he didn't die in battle towards the "end goal", he died of old age listening to the same nonsensical "praise be" rhetoric. He started trying to be a bad guy, and kept switching between the two trying different things.

That is when we finally get him. He's on yet another world, trying out being the annoyance. He's not evil, but he doesn't want to help either. After so many iterations, he's given up on just finally being dead, anyway. Might as well have fun. The end game with this story was for him to maybe, possibly, getting the rest he wanted. The ponies might have found the answer, or maybe not. They don't know if it will work until it happens.

The problem is, he generally can't die unless he's saving the world (by being the bad guy that dies at the end or actually saving it from bad), so he's been leaning more on being the bad guy more often so he can just be done with each world. In Equestria, he's considered a bad guy since the place is generally peaceful, but he eventually gets wrapped up in some even badder bad.

The whole story was going to be this fun romp that messed with ponies, basically. Did that help sum up everything? He's not OP! He's not! Hehehe. Anyway, below is the last writings I had for this story. I couldn't get through the dialogue, and I found myself at a loss on all my stories whenever I hit speaking portions. I could never get the characters to sound right...

And finally, check my blog , here, for more.

The solid crack of hooves striking bark echoed over the hills of Sweet Apple Acres. Apple Bloom sat on the porch of the old barnhouse, rocking in her grandmother’s old chair in time to the sounds of applebucking season. Her children, nieces and nephews, grandchildren, and every other able-bodied Apple were hard at work to clear the western orchard before the sun set. She was still capable of a tree here or there, and she’d even get a full wagon if the youngins wouldn’t pester her all the time to rest.

A sigh pulled her into a slouch on the old rocker. She was over sixty years old now, and if her siblings were any indication, she had another fifteen at least before her time came. Apples didn’t retire. There was always something to do on the farm. Through the years, those chores had only increased, but the next generation was strong. All she had to do these days was teach them the secret recipes, maybe lean against the fence with the sheep to keep them company, and it was a small miracle every time a friend stopped by to drag her into town for some new thing.

She looked to the barn that had been rebuilt time and again by the family. Applejack and Big Mac had to raise it so many times, she sometimes wondered if they forgot the nails. Ever since she made a few improvements, reinforcing the joists and adding a firmer foundation, it was allowed to stand against time like a barn should. The paint was starting to peel and fade, though not enough to justify the expense of another coat, and the beginnings of some rotten boards could finally give the building the character it never had. A small chuckle escaped her at the thought.

Within that building lay her tools. Where once she could hammer away for hours on a new piece of steel or lathe a few deck posts into art, now stayed quiet and gathering dust when an Apple didn’t need to store the extra hay or straw. Her old forge, as she liked to think it, would only be filled with the very materials she banned from it in her youth. The embers could catch, she would say. But they needed the room these days.

More ponies meant more beds. More beds meant more rooms, more food, more storage. Addition after addition was added to the old house until it became a mansion like those in the southern plantations. She guessed they were a plantation at this point. No point in calling it a farm when they grew more than just apples on the large scale now.

The house was huge, which needed a bigger barn. They had just finished building one in the back forty when Big Mac fell ill. It was nothing serious. At least, not now that she’s reaching that same point. Seventy-five years is a long time to plow, and it finally took its toll. It took two years for the pasture to take him, but by Celestia’s mercy, he wasn’t in too much pain. Most days were easier than those few that truly crippled him.

Applejack was more sudden. One day, she was up and trotting around without a care, and the next, she was gone. Apple Bloom liked to believe the Apples needed more help in the pasture beyond and called the most reliable pony to ever live. She liked to believe that. She liked it much more than the truth.

But the family grew strong with those two and had only grown stronger since. With her as the matron, more funds were put into beautifying the land, enticing customers into more than just the purchase of produce. Ponies came from further and further away to buy her works, which only helped produce sales as they tasted what was freely given of the earth and wanted larger shipments every year. Surely, she had every reason to be proud. Every reason to say she deserved some rest.

An even heavier sigh deflated her further. “So why do I feel so unnecessary these days?” she asked aloud, the rocking chair forcing her head to nod along like it was agreeing with her melancholy. She let the wind tussle her mane and counted the strands that fell before her eyes. One. Two. Three. No, wait, that’s two. Five.

The sheep might want company.

No, no, Baathelda told me to stop leaning against the fence, or it’s liable to snap. Fat chance. I reinforced it myself. Still, she has a point. Cows, then. Haven’t talked to old Steerling in a dog’s age.

With a creak and a snap that Apple Bloom will forever deny, she rose from the old chair, letting her tail brush across it as silent thanks for its continued service. She just managed to get her first hoof off the steps when somepony called. It was distant, so she couldn’t be sure who spoke or what was said, but she perked her ears and waited.

“Apple Bloom.”

She heard it that time. The voice was still far away, but she could tell enough from the tone to start in that direction. Still, it didn’t sound important enough for more than a canter, so she walked.

“Apple Bloom!”

It was Scootaloo. She knew it was, then. Nopony else had that specific type of forwardness with her A’s. She thought about calling back, but considering she was on the road out anyway, they would meet without any extra effort on her part. Between the two of them, Scootaloo had energy to spare.

“Apple Bloom, there you are! I was looking everywhere for you,” the mare said when she crested the last hill and spotted her friend. Apple Bloom rose an eyebrow and looked from one side of the road to the other before looking back with a bemused smile. “Oh, you know what I mean! Look, you remember that thing that showed up during the funeral and messed with us? I talked to him!”

“Considering I wasn’t there when he showed up, I’m not sure if I should be happy or angry with you. All I have to go on is what you told me and Sweetie Belle before she ran off to see if Spike was okay,” Apple Bloom replied. She had gotten pretty good at hiding her emotions to mess with her friends, and with how boring it had been on the farm lately, she couldn’t miss the chance to do it again. Sitting down, she crossed her forelegs and let the bemused smile return. “Is he the ‘rugged handsome stallion’ you’ve been waiting for?”

“No! Of course not.” Apple Bloom clicked her tongue at the failed ribbing as Scootaloo continued. “Look, I just wanted to tell you that he’s coming by!” she yelled, jumping and giving a flutter of her wings that reminded Apple Bloom of their fillyhood days before she registered what was said.

“What?! You… he…. What did you do?! Did you tell him where I live?!” she accused, whipping her head to and fro looking for something. What it was, she didn’t know. Something to defend herself with, maybe she should call the family in for safety, or even the creature sliding out of the shade of a nearby apple tree. “What if he attacks the family? What if he likes to eat ponies?! Why would you lead that monster here?!”

“Well that’s rude.”

Apple Bloom froze. It heard her. She was done for. First, it would start with her, then it would wait in the barn, picking off one Apple from the Tree at a time. Once it was grew in strength, it would move into town, most likely going for the outer buildings and slowly making a barricade so the ponies couldn’t flee when he entered town square. If a pegasus tried to flee, it could use its super-strength to throw a pony up and get a two for one deal!

“AAAAAAAAAAAAA!” She jumped in the air and hit the ground running. Where, she didn’t know, but she had to try to save as many of her family as possible, once she was safe from being devoured herself of course. Ponies still have their instincts. At least, that’s what would have happened, if she didn’t run face first into a brick wall.

“Calm down, Gran Apple,” the wall said. When she managed to clear her vision of golden delicious apples doing the can-can, Apple Bloom looked up to see her grand-nephew, Pippin Apple. “It was just me. I never heard you talk about a pony like that before.”

Before she could reply, Scootaloo stepped forward wiping the last tears of laughter from her eyes. “It’s nothing, Pippin. Me and Gran here were just discussing a friend visiting.” She turned to Apple Bloom and grinned even wider. “He’s no pony, but he’s no monster either, scaredy cat.”

“Oh, hush. You didn’t paint him in the best of light last time,” Apple Bloom said before turning to her nephew. She could deal with her friend in a minute. An Apple didn’t stop work for no reason, after all. “What was it you needed, Pippin? Don’t tell me the wolves got on the property again.”

“No wolves, thank Celestia, but there seems to be a ruckus in the cow’s barn and they won’t let any of us stallions in.”

Comments

[foxsevent]

[StapleCactus]

8197004

Hehe, well, that's the best I could do. Well, not BEST, but... least taxing? Look, I'm not looking for forgiveness. I know I'm a terrible person. I have time on my hands and everything, but the muse left me when she saw how often I rewrote the same paragraph I think. She visits, though. Gives me nuggets of want, to torture me like I did her, but I know better than to listen now. It would be a greater disservice to keep trying to write these and make you all wait years for something that should have been done already. If I were to write, I want it to be good writing, and I think I forgot what that is.

[Primalhunter]

This is better than Mein Kampf... sad to see it go... Baaa who am I kidding, nothing matters! So just do whatever!