2. Not Even a Passing Glance
No truth can be said to be seen as it is until it is seen in its
relation to all other truths. In this relation only is it true.
-Elizabeth Prentiss
Chapter 2
Sketch’s heart jumped into his throat. There was a bitterly cold sensation that attacked his face without so much as a warning, causing him to twitch and convulse as he tried to defend himself. He finally gripped the source of the assault with his magic and flung it across the room, gasping and sputtering for air. It flumped to the ground, and Sketch finally saw the perpetrator, a rag sopping wet with the coldest water he has ever had the grace of feeling. He put a hoof to his chest as he tried desperately to calm his breathing down.
“Wake up, sleepy head,” his mother called, her voice dripping with feign sweetness. “Don’t indulge your insomnia like that by just sleeping whenever you want to.”
“Gah, Celestia!” Sketch cursed and fell back into the couch, panting. Of all the... “I couldn’t help it, I was tired!”
“You have to suck it up, Sketch; I mean, it’s not narcolepsy, you could stay awake if you wanted to.” His mom, Sweet Night, flicked her tail as she turned and trotted back to the kitchen, where a pot boiled some soup. She still had her nurse’s cap on so she must’ve just gotten home. Her hair was an average light brown but with red stripes and curled style. Her fur was nearly white with a tint of a soft velvet. “Still, I guess it isn’t fair to expect that of you, so you’ll still get dinner.”
“Tch, thanks.” He turned to see his dad resting his muzzle on his chest and holding his newspaper like a security blanket. Although his grey hair covered his eyes, it was obvious he was asleep. “How come Dad gets to sleep?”
“Because he works and isn’t an ass,” she stated as a matter-of-factly. “He’s a good husband.”
“Oh, so I’m an ass now?” Sketch jokingly asked, pretending to look hurt. His mom just shrugged.
“Hey, you said it,” his mom chuckled. “Can you hoof me that cilantro?”
“Ugh,” Sketch grunted, resisting the urge to throw up as he looked at the spice in disgust. He grabbed it with his magic and kept it far away as he trudged towards his mother. “Here you go.”
As he hoofed it to her and wrapped his leg around her and pecked her on the cheek, and proceeded to leave. She called to him before he got too far. “Sketch, I want you asleep by eleven.”
“Mmn,” he groaned, half-serious. His mother hit the pot with her ladle.
“Hey, you’re the one who doesn’t want medication.”
As he climbed the stairs to his room, he shot back. “You’re the one encouraging me to take drugs.” Sketch shut the door behind him, prompting his mother to sigh.
“Dumb boy,” she remarked, smiling.
The little griffin girl lifted the baseball and reared her talon. She threw with all her might, but no bottles fell to the toss. In her effort to throw as hard as she could, the ball missed at the absence of precision.
“Two more tries, little girl, two more tries.” The vendor pony brought out another baseball and set it on the counter. With determination anew, she lifted the ball and very carefully tossed the ball with accuracy.
While the ball hit the bottles, none fell to the decreased power of the throw. The griffin pouted as the ball rolled on the ground. Again, the vendor smiled and remarked, “Haha, too bad. You got one more throw, little one. Make it count.”
This time, as the griffin picked up the last ball, she stuck out her tongue and lifted to her eyes. She kept her eyes on the bottles as she reared her talons. She threw with all her might, not once trailing off her mark. With a loud crash, all the bottles fell to the floor one by one. She watched the bottles move on the floor for a bit before the fact clicked in the brain. She won!
“I won, I won!” She jumped up and down. The vendor laughed and fetched her prize, a large stuffed elephant. He handed it to the small foreign griffin girl.
“Yes, you did. See what life is about, little girl. Trying new things and problem solving. Just remember. You only have a couple of tries.”
The small griffin frowned as she thought of this. She could have failed that last time. She would’ve lost her money, she would have gotten no prize. She wouldn’t have ever known what her premium prize was. But... then maybe she could’ve won on the first try! or the second...
What could have been... would never be experienced. It’s all lost within a number of moments and she didn’t even give a passing glance.
Sketch poked at his paper and pencil as he sighed, the inspiration drained from him. Trust was like a drug, and now he had gotten that second taste, all he wanted to do was talk to her again. He rested his head on his left hoof as he stared at nothing of importance.
“Someone’s a little grumpy~” Miss Conté sing-song’d at the corner of Sketch’s eye. He wanted to sigh in exasperation but held it in for her sake. “I hear you’ve been sleeping in class again.”
Sketch thought for a few moments before responding to his teacher. He had been a bit peeved as of late, simply because Trust refused to visit him every day. This time he truly believed her that she’d visit more often, but it wasn’t often enough. He needed his fix. There was also a bit of cruel irony mixed in; talking to Trust helped him sleep, but when she’d arrive he’d stay up the entire night to maximize their time together. He looked away from Miss Conté and grumbled a bit.
She frowned and backed away with a more serious expression. “Sketch, I’m serious, you have to stay awake in school. It’s not just a formality.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “Tell me what’s wrong, sweetie.”
The concern she held in her tone made Sketch rise in a gesture of respect. He looked off into a corner and contemplated his options. “Conté...” he began, choosing his words with the utmost care. “I... have you ever wanted to help someone... but you didn’t know how to go about doing it?”
Miss Conté furrowed her brow in confusion and stepped back. Sketch tapped at the desk nervously and continued. “I mean... I just want what’s best for her but I don’t think she’d appreciate it... or if she’d even accept it.”
It was silent for a while. It lead Sketch to catch the quiet conversations of the other students and the subtle sound of various crafts being made. He felt so detached from it all.
“...Well I can’t say I’ve been in a situation like that personally, but... Sketch, you just need to be honest with them and yourself. Don’t sell it short but don’t shove it down her throat. Make sure you force her to make a decision, but give her the freedom to turn it down. Make her feel like she’s the one asking for help in the end.” Miss Conté smiled weakly but truly, and put a gentle hoof on Sketch’s shoulder. “Look, Sketch. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. You’re a sweet boy, I’m sure she’ll understand.”
Sketch just stared at her with his mouth open. While Miss Conté wasn’t exactly the most thick of individuals, Sketch didn’t take her to be so skilled with her words, or advice. He nodded slowly as he recovered from the wisdom. “Right...”
“You’ll do fine.” She sauntered by him and whacked him in the back of his head, thoroughly startling him and knocking him out of his stupor. “Now get some sleep!”
As Miss Conté walked away he could have sworn she had said some pretty deep stuff moments earlier...
“You again?” the griffin at the door asked, sounding very unimpressed. Sketch opened his mouth but no words came out, being unable to respond to such a mean spirited greeting. Haren laughed aloud at his reaction and put her forearm around his neck (a terrifying experience with her talons that close to a vital artery) and dragged him inside. “I’m kidding, calm down. I like you, kid. Didn’t I make that obvious yesterday?”
“Heh,” he laughed weakly. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“Cuts deep, kid,” she joked, loosely falling into one of the recliners in the main room as Sketch regained his balance on the sofa. “‘Sup, dude?”
“I came by to see what’s going to happen before Hearth’s Tearing.” Sketch leaned back and managed to relax, finding himself strangely comfortable with the griffin despite barely knowing her. Must’ve been her cool attitude. No wonder Anthem loved living with her... which begged the question, “Is Anthem here?”
Her face contorted into a mixture of frustration and goodwill at the mention of the pony. “Nah he went to go look for some Hearth’s Warming movie that was just released a few days ago. It’s a Something Life or another? I dunno.” She kept a smile on her face. “Wouldn’t shut up about it.”
“Oh,” he simply said, still waiting for his answer about Hearth’s Tearing. He noticed that Haren had done her feathers differently today, having them curved downwards and covering one eye. It was kind of flooring how good it looked on her. Also, she was wearing two earrings today instead of one, and of a different style. Sketch had to admit, she was very good on appearances.
“What’d you wanna know about Hearth’s Tearing?” she asked, lazily wrapping her arms over the rests and off to the sides of the chair and carrying one leg over the other as to not show too much (though she wasn’t trying too hard to hide anything, but regardless). Her posture would no doubt be eye candy to any male (and some female) griffins, that’s for sure.
“Well just a couple of things really,” he started, gesturing with his left foreleg. “Were we gonna meet here?”
“Yup,” she answered, a sly smirk stretching across her face that accompanied everything she said. “Bring your little girlfriend here at the designated time, a’ight?”
“She’s not my-” Sketch began, but settled on leaving it alone considering she only said that to get a reaction out of him. This was heralded by the fact that Haren was suppressing a giggle. Sketch scoffed and ignored the transgression. “Anything I need to know or have?”
“Nah, man. It’s all pretty standard shtick. All the little stereotypes of parties and raves will be there. So expect everything, but don’t be intimidated by it, capisce?”
“Alright,” he confirmed, breaking a smile just because of the absolutely cool vibe coming off of her. She was so similar to Anthem in personality that it was actually a bit endearing. Maybe they rubbed off on each other. That reminded Sketch of something. “You know I’ve known anthem for a while and I know you’ve been living here a while as well. I’m surprised we haven’t met until now.”
“Yeah, but that’s because I used to work afternoons at my job, but I got fired recently.” She said coolly, looking at the tips of her talons effeminately.
“Harsh,” Sketch commented, frowning.
“Eh, my fault for lifting drugs at a pharmacy. They catch on sooner or later,” she said, snickering.
“I guess...”
The ceiling looked good today, Sketch decided while resting his head on his forelegs. It was a strange position, but a comfortable one. He turned his head and looked at the clock. 12:34? And still wide awake... Sketch was simply to excited and anxious to tell Trust of Hearth's Tearing that he simply could not sleep. He suspected he'd be suffering the same way even without the insomnia, but it wasn't exactly helping either. Sheep, math, trivia, nothing even made him bat an eye as he lay on his back. Even as his eyes became heavier than stones, an inexplicable force kept them open, haggling with his brain for the control of slumber. Finally, as the sweet sanctuary of sleep came, another sound raised the price.
"Hello!~"
Suddenly from nowhere, a certain feral-looking face of a mare entered his vision from above. Her wide smile showed off her teeth, along with the fangs. "Trust?" he breathed, unsure if his mind was playing tricks on him. Maybe she was some kind of twilight dream.
She seemed kind of disappointed for some reason, her face contoured to that of one who had failed a prank. she rolled her eyes and flipped over onto Sketch proper, starling the poor boy.
"The one and only, Sketchy! Wassaup?" her beam of enthusiasm returned. She must have been quite oblivious to her quite scandalous position on Sketch. She sat there with no worries, legs spread across his lower stomach. Sketch felt his body temperature slowly climb, so he immediately tried to wriggle out to prevent the situation becoming more awkward. Admittedly, the frontflip she had done to achieve this position was quite impressive, but that was aside the point.
"Uhhhh," he droned nervously until he successfully wriggled into a less... crotch intensive posture. He rested his back against the bed frame and now Trusts forelegs rested on both sides of his stomach. Not exactly a flattering position for either of them but less risque than the one they were previously in. Hopefully she would realize the invasion of space her location held before he had to point it out to her. While she did seem like the type to not be naive of such things, her blatant inexperience with other ponies overrode that fact. Hell, she was probably a virgin.
With that thought now plaguing his mind, he decided to speak to Trust to distract him from it. "N-nothing much, I guess. I have had a lot of trouble sleeping these past couple of days. Insomnia's a bitch."
"In-what-a?" she asked, chuckling. She flew into the air and did a areola before she expertly landed on the floor. She pranced ironically to Sketch's desk and began inspecting his newer drawings. Most of were no consequence, waterfalls and serene environments. There was a couple of Trust in various poses, one of which in particular caught her attention. "Holy crap dude, how do you even do this when I'm not here?" The drawing was an elaborate one, depicting the batpony with an impish grin while her entire body had a drunken sway to it. Appendages were strewn about in many but easily visualized directions. It looked like she was in the middle of a playful dance, one that one does after playing some kind of joke. The movement depicted almost made it seem like it would start at any moment.
"It's nothing special," Sketch grumbled as he stepped over to the overly energetic pony. How the hell is she so... awake right now?
"Bull crap, I almost mistook this for a photo!" she exclaimed, arching her eyebrow. She hoofed it over to him for scrutinization. He looked at it half heartedly, finding the only redeemable factor of it that it held the image of Trust.
"It doesn't matter. It'll never be shown in galleries or the like. Even if it is good, there's always something better." He gave a wry laugh and walked away, eyes closed. Trust only could stare at him in disbelief and frustration.
"Sketchy... who cares? I love it, someone else will. You'll never know if you don't buck up and have some confidence."
That reminded Sketch of the party in the woods. Buck up and have some confidence... Maybe this would be easy after all. "Look, Trust, maybe you misunderstood me. I still plan on making art my occupation. I still want to get my art out there, but a little humility is good for the soul."
Trust's cheeks puffed up as she pouted and looked away with her nose in the air. "Whatever." She returned to the desk and sifted around a little. Sketch was deep in thought, trying to find a way to tell her about Hearth's Tearing.
"Tru-"
"Bahaha! What's this?" She leaned over on the desk and poked her nose into it to make sure she wasn't seeing things. Oh celestia, what did she find now, Sketch thought, rolling his eyes. "Dude," she picked it up and spread it out in front of her. It was a picture of Sketch smiling with batwings and fangs, drawn a bit goofily. It was less serious and more satirical that the original drawing he gave Trust a week ago.
"Oh," he chuckled, only suffering from Trust's contagious laugh. "I forgot I drew that."
“Why would you draw this?” she asked, laughing more.
“I dunno. Curious, I guess.” Sketch stepped next to Trust and put a hoof on one corner of the page. Curious of what, exactly?
“Can I keep it?” she asked, looking at Sketch, with a look of eager joy. He faced her, nearly taken aback by the endearingly cute face she had made. He had wanted to keep that particular piece, but who could say no to innocent little demonic bat filly?
“Sure...”
She stared at it intently, biting her lip and showing a wealth of conflicting emotions. “Thanks...”
Sketch remained silent for a while, pacing around the room trying to connect a way to segue into Hearth’s Tearing. “Trust...” he began, rubbing his knee with another foreleg. “Uhh... Trust, have you ever thought what’d be like to just be another pony. That’s what I was thinking when I drew that. What’d like to be a bat pony. So...”
Trust was strangely quiet, looking at Sketch with an unusually blank expression. After a while, her gaze trailed to the ground and then the window. The silence made Sketch sweat a bit behind his neck, nervously awaiting her answer. Suddenly she spoke, “Maybe. But it’s impossible...”
Yes! Maybe is good enough. I can work with maybe. “Well... maybe not. I... have a proposition for you.”
Trust’s ears perked up, her expression stale along with some soft skepticism. “Wha...”
“Well, uh... Y’see there’s this thing... a party... Hearth’s tearing and-”
Trust interrupted with a loud groan and irritated scoff. “No, Sketch. I don’t do parties, no.”
“No, no, no, no listen. It’s a really small party, uhh, more of a small concert. And-”
“Sketchy, are you loco in your little melon head? Look at me!”
“Trust!” he interjected. “Look. People dress up at this concert in some costumes, so you’d blend right in!”
Her blank face returned after this reveal of information, and she sat, her strong protest deflating.”But... I dunno Sketchy, I don’t think it’s a good idea. I don’t think I’d be good in crowds.”
“Oh come on, I’m sure you’d be fine, and you won’t know until you try.” Sketch plastered a smile onto his face, trying to ease Trust’s feelings of doubt.
“Sketchy, I just...” she stared at the ground and her voice wavered. “I thought...” She held her shoulder as if it ached. “I thought you didn’t care I was... you know. Batty.”
It took all of Sketch’s strength to not groan in frustration. Was she still on about this? “Trust, I don’t. Not in the slightest. I just want you to be happy, and I want to show you the world. I feel selfish keeping you cooped up in here, when you can be making even more friends. This has nothing to do with your... batness, just that you haven’t hung out with people at all. I don’t want you to miss out.”
Trust lay still for a while, contemplating sketch’s words. Although rational and sincere, she still felt unsure. A long time went by before anything was said, until Trust sighed. “I guess...”
Sketch jumped up with joy, clopping his hooves together in giddy joy. “Wonderful! I have a couple of friends that’ll go with us. I already told them you have a gothic bat costume and they’re completely on board.”
“Ugh... You’re gonna make me regret this Sketchy I swear,” she said, wearing a weak smile. “Hey,” shooting up from her sit, she sauntered over to Sketch’s bed and flopped upside-down on it, letting her head hang off the edge. “Read me something.”
Sketch tried to sound angry, but it failed pathetically as his lips curved to a smile. “Sure, whatever.”
She destroyed my life.
Sketch awoke with a start, knocking the book off his chest and disturbing the saliva that took its refuge along his chin. He looked at the clock that lay next to his bed on the nightstand and found the time. 9:00 AM, a bit late for school. He cursed under his breath and stood, first taking off the blanket he realized just now that covered him. He had fallen asleep leaning against the bed frame with Trust actually using the bed. She must have left afterwards not before putting a sheet on him. The thought warmed his heart, and with that comforting his mind, he left for yet another uneventful day at school. He slept well, he decided.
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I feel bad for both of them... This isn't going to end well... And I want it to end well so badly... Heh, I'm actually tearing a little.
3817323 glad I can make interesting enough characters that you would feel so strongly for them.
I don't think anyone could expect what will transpire. >:]
Sounds like a city life.
And one of those dull moments.
3825997 I like that. I'm gonna use that next chapter.
Great chapter can't wait for the next one.
Art was drawn by me, if the shaky ass lines weren't evident enough :P
What you should have posted when you replied.
3929177
img0.joyreactor.com/pics/post/funny-pictures-auto-403912.jpeg
3929177 Oh, and the coverart is not bad, not bad at all. A bit of practice with your drawing and we could have some real talent there! you have vision, now you just need to practice.
I'm an artist, I hope I would know... If I didn't... Guess I'd be a bad artist.
4235998 Ty, mate
I didn't know the comments disappear when you delete a chapter. Makes me look douchey :/