I Don't Want To Talk About It
Pain is such an interesting thing. It’s an instinct level reaction to the sensory feedback that you get from things that your body doesn’t want you to be around. It’s a way for your brain to tell the body part in question to get the Hell away. When one experiences pain, it is merely your body warning you that you are in contact with something potentially dangerous.
The thing about pain, though, is that it’s all in the mind. You can’t feel pain if you don’t let yourself feel it. Well, okay, that isn’t entirely true. You still feel pain, but if you block out the pain, make it a low priority in your mind, then the pain will dull and you can carry on with a small ache playing in the background. It’s all about mind over matter, your Will over your impulses. You don’t feel extreme pain if you do not let yourself.
That being said, getting punched in the face hurts. Like, a lot.
Signal Flare, as it turns out, was no weakling. Her right hook came straight for my face, and it connected with what seemed to be the force of an oncoming train.Said force was enough to knock me right onto my ass, and slam my back against the wall behind me.
When her punch had connected, something inside my head seemed to flip a switch. It activated that part of the human mind that did well under pressure, and took control of your body, relying purely on instinct, and letting the rational part of the brain take a breather.
That part of my head kicked in, and before Flare’s follow-up kick could connect, I rolled out of the way, trying to find my footing as I did.
I couldn’t seem to get a grip on my feet, however, and Flare shifted to face me, and charged straight toward my chest, her hooves outstretched, her wings giving a single, powerful flap.
Time seemed to slow down, and it gave me time to take in a few details. Firstly, my attacker herself, Signal Flare.
She was out of her armour, and her white coat seemed to gleam with a small layer of sweat, as though she was in the middle of a mild workout (which made sense, considering). She had a few scruffed up spots, where someone had punched her, presumably the dream-me, and small patches of dirt covered her body.
What caught my attention the most, though, was her face. On her face was the single biggest smile I had ever seen on her. She looked as though she were experiencing a moment of pure and utter joy, the kind of joy that you feel when you are in a moment of utter perfection, where you know that a moment like that would never happen again. She appeared to be having the time of her life, and it was evident that it was at my expense. I would say ‘to each their own’, but when you take so much joy in someone else’s pain? That’s kinda fucked up. Especially if it’s me that’s in pain.
Around us was a simple gladiator-style of arena, with a dirt floor, iron-wrought gates on either end, and stone walls that lead up to the bleachers. In said bleachers were ponies of various shapes and sizes, of every color and hue. Near the far iron-gate, though, was a single booth, built a little out of the wall, as to make the view better for its occupants.
Inside the booth were the Royal Sisters, Celestia and Luna. Celestia sat there, as calm and regal as you please, a look of slight curiosity on her face, evidently wondering about the spectacle on the arena floor. Next to her, Luna sat there in a frozen moment of perfect shock, her face showing surprise. As it turned out, she hadn’t expected the nature of this dream either.
A hot flash of pain shot through my chest, as Flare’s hooves connected with my chest. The force of the impact push me farther back, my shoulder dragging against the stone wall, as instinctively curl around the area I was hit, trying to use the rest of my body as a shield.
An instinct nagged at me to move, and I pushed myself off the wall, just in time to get out of the way of Flare’s hooves as they came crashing down where my head had just been.
I scramble to my feet, trying to ignore the pain in my face and chest, and tried to get some distance between me and the joyously wrathful pony.
“Luna!” I yelled as I backed away from Flare. “What the fuck is happening?!”
The response came from the balcony where Luna sat. “I am unsure!” she yelled back. “I must suppose, though, that the Commander has a grudge against thee!” Her voice turned rye. “One can only guess as to why.”
I ducked under a flying charge from my pony attacker. “Jokes later, help now! How do we-”
I was cut off by a swift punch straight to my face (why is it always the face?). The force of the punch was so powerful that I got launched from about half-court, all the way into the wall, slamming into it with all the force of a car-wreck.
There was a white flash, and I was suddenly back in the Ponyville-dreamscape, lying on my back in front of Flare’s dream-home.
I blinked at my suddenly new surroundings, and propped my myself up onto my elbows. A second later, a tear formed in the air, and Luna stepped out of it.
“What the fuck…” I whispered. Luna looked down at me, and shrugged her shoulders.
“I am unaware of what just happened as well,” she said. “Perhaps it be best to naught tarry on the thought, and just move on.”
I slowly nodded agreement. “Yeah,” I said slowly. “Maybe you should pick where we go next. I seem to always get the weird stuff.”
Luna smiled. “Yes, I do believe that that would be wise. Come along then, Connor.”
I got up and followed Luna out into the dream-Ponyville. We walked for a while, passing homes that were colored with their own dull light, the indication of a dreamer.
Eventually, we stopped next to a house I didn’t recognise, where a heavy pink was being emitted from the windows.
“Who’s house is this?” I asked my companion.
Luna shrugged. “I am unaware. All I know is that whoever is having this dream must be feeling very strong emotions at the moment.”
I tilted my head at her. “What do you mean?”
She shrugged again. “It is merely something that I have picked up in my dreamwalks. The magical energy that the dreams emit is able to be felt, if you’re sensitive enough to feel for it.”
I made a sound of interest. “Sounds useful. Well, we might as well get on in there, yeah?”
Luna nodded her agreement. “For the sake of expediency, I think I shall open the way into the dream.”
She received no protest from me. She walked up to the house’s front door, where I knew the border of the dream would be, and I was immediatly reminded of just how much experience is more important than raw power.
Generally speaking, I have a lot of power. Practically speaking, I’m pretty sure that I have the most in the entire universe. But just because I have a lot of power, doesn’t mean I know how to use it. I still have a lot to learn, and Luna is a great example of just how much I have to go until I get to the big leagues.
I couldn’t even feel it when she grabbed hold of the fabric of the dream. Doing something like she was takes a lot of energy. It doesn’t matter how skilled you are, it’s just a simple fact that you need a lot of energy to manipulate the fabric of a reality, even a false one. When I did it earlier, I used a lot of energy, like I needed to. But I used it more like a slow battering ram. I used as much energy that I felt would be effective to impose my Will onto the fabric of Flare’s dream. When I did that, there was probably some left over energy, something that spilt over from my working, and into the ambient area.
Luna, however, did it much more gracefully than that. I couldn’t even tell that she had begun the process of tearing a hole in the fabric of the dream until I actively sought it out, and even then it was feint. All the energy she used was minimalistic, absolutely necessary, and none of it went to waste. If my tactic was a battering ram, then Luna’s was like a set of lockpicks. Subtle, quite, difficult to master, yet infinitely more versatile. This was a true example of skill over sheer power.
A second later, a tear in the fabric of the dreamscape opened, and Luna turned to me, gesturing with her wing for me to go in. I walked forward, stepped into the tear, and-
…
…
I don’t want to talk about what I saw in that dream, and frankly, I just want the entire experience gone from my memory. That was truly one of the most horrendous things I have ever seen, before or since. Suffice to say, I don’t think that I’ll ever be able to look at my hands the same way, thanks to a one Lyra Heartstrings.
I stepped back out of the tear in the dream, and saw Luna standing where I had last seen her, a look of worried curiosity on her face.
“Sir Connor?” she asked. “Does something trouble you?”
I shuddered as I remembered the dream I just witnessed. “I…” I began. Then I shook my head, and said, “I don’t want to talk about it. Lets just go somewhere more… lighthearted, please?”
Luna didn’t look satisfide with my answer, but she thankfully didn’t push. She simply nodded. “Does thou have any ideas as to where such a dream might exist?”
I stood there for a minute, trying to fight my way out of the shock, and come up with an idea of where I could go to not have nightmares for the rest of eternity. Then an idea struck me. Or more specifically, a pink envelope did.
I felt the papery rectangle hit me with a gust of wind, and the envelope clung to the side of my head.
I blinked, confused as to just how a random envelope would happen to be flying around.
I grabbed the thing from off my face and looked at the writing on the front. It read, “To: Connor, From: Pinkie.”
I blinked again, still confused.
Luna stood off to my side, looking at the envelope along with me. She asked, “How did such a thing just appear?”
I looked at her. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, it is incredibly difficult to create objects in the nexus, the dreamscape we are currently in. If Pinkamena was able to create this envelope and send it through the nexus, she must be an incredibly strong dreamer.”
I snorted. “Yeah, that’s just like her. Being able to do all these random things, just for the sake of plot convenience.”
Luna blinked at me. “What?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly, and opened the envelope.
Simply put, the thing was an invitation to Pinkie’s dream party. Apparently, even when Pinkie is asleep, she’s still throwin’ parties. I swear, that girl is going to work herself to death.
“Huh,” I said as I finished reading. “Seems like Pinkie knew we were traveling around the dreamscape-”
“Nexus,” Luna corrected me.
I gave her a look. “Around the nexus, and that we’re invited to some dream party of hers.” I scanned over the letter one last time, then looked at Luna and said, “I think we should go.”
Luna nodded, “I see no reason not to. Let us find where she resides.”
So, we walked in the direction of SugarCube Corner, and saw a bright pink light coming from Pinkie’s room (I knew which window it was, because I’ve been there).
“Who should open the way?” I asked, once we got to the front door.
Luna looked at the shop, then said, “I believe I should. Not only might I do it quicker, but there are multiple dreamers in this residence, and it can be difficult to distinguish dreams apart for someone new to the art.”
I nodded. “Go right ahead, then.”
She worked her magic, and a second or two later, a tear in the dreamsca- err, the nexus opened up. We stepped through, and were instantly greeted by bright lights and blaring music.
As one would expect from a Pinkie Pie dream, the entire room, one designed like her bedroom, was covered in bright colors, streamers, and any other sort of cheerful and light thing that you might expect. The odd thing about the dream, though, wasn’t the decorations of the room, but the room itself.
Pinkie’s room is a very modest one. A bed, some drawers, a mirror or two, and plenty of space. The dream version, on the other hand, was much larger than a simple bedroom. The far wall, from where Luna and I faced, was gone, and instead ran out to a garden-esque scene, not too dissimilar from the plaza at the centre of Ponyville. The sun shone brightly across the grass, and was reflected by the clear water of the fountain that was the centre piece. Lampposts connected to each other by bright streamers, tables spaced periodically around with food and drink, some even having party favors. Wandering around this bright garden were ponies that partook in any activity the party had to offer, such as apple-bobbing, pin-the-tail-on-the-pony, dancing, and any other such things that you might expect to see.
The party was in full swing, and there was something oddly alive about it all. Not to say that Pinkie’s parties are normally dull, but you’d expect to find a dream party to be a bit more automated, as though the party-goers were just very well-disguised robots programed to act like they enjoy the party. These ponies looked real. They moved more fluidly and with more intent than you would expect from a dream-made one. It was almost as though that these were real ponies, and they had all gotten together in Pinkie’s head for a party.
I furrowed my brow and looked over to Luna, who had a similar look of confusion. “Hey,” I said, grabbing her attention. “Is this what I think it is?”
“A large congregation of dreamers? Yes, I do believe it is.”
“Well, duh!” a cheerful voice said from our right.
We looked over to see Pinkie skipping her way over to us, in her usual fashion. “Of course all these ponies are actual dreamers! I can’t have a party without having actual guests, now can I?”
I looked at her blankly for a moment, then asked, “Pinkie, how did you do this? From what I understand, manipulating dreams, especially bringing other people into one, isn’t exactly easy.”
Pinkie gave me a theatrical look of exasperation, and said, “Silly, I sent them invitations!”
My brows knitted together. “What?”
“I sent them invitations! Everypony knows where I have my parties, and even if they didn’t, the card said so! So, when they got my invitations, they came here to have a party! I do it all the time, Connie, you know that!”
I just stared at her, not really sure how to take that explanation.
No, stop. I thought to myself. Just don’t think about it, and you’ll be fine.
I shook my head, and changed the subject. “So, you sent me an invitation. How did you know where to send it?”
Again, Pinkie confused me. “Silly goose, I put your name in it, and then put it in my mailbox!”
I gave her an even, frustrated stare. I was the spirit of disharmony and chaos, and yet I still make more sense than Pinkie does. How bent is that?
“You know what? Never mind.” I shook my head again. “I guess that I’ll go and just enjoy the party.”
I walked toward the open garden, leaving a smiling Pinkie and a confused Luna behind me.
The party was a pretty average one, by Pinkie Pie standards. That is, it was pretty cool, if a bit childish (by my standards, anyway). There were ponies all around doin’ their thing, hangin’ around and talkin’ with others. Some games were in progress, such as a bunch of kids playing tag, apple-bobbing, and other such games.
I, personally, just found a chair for me to hang around in, near a table, and just started to chill out. After about a minute of that, a voice from next to me said, “Well, long time no see, Connor.”
I looked over and saw that the pony sitting next to me was none other than Vinyl Scratch.
I hadn’t really seen Vinyl all that much recently. It wasn’t because we weren’t friends anymore, or anything like that. It was just because we always had something to do, and we couldn’t really hang out too often. I would either be busy with some random adventure that the Elements would get me into, or Vinyl would be out of town on tour. And when we both were in town, running my club, we would both be busy, Vinyl as DJ, and I as floor manager. The only times that we really had talked was when she had an issue with her equipment, and needed my help with it.
“Yeah,” I said back to her. “Been too long since we just chilled out and talked. How you doin’, Scratch?”
She nodded her head easily. “Pretty good, all things considered. Just got back from the Eastern Equestria tour, and crashed on my couch. Started havin’ a dream about some nachos, when some pink envelope showed up, and invited me to this party.”
“Wait,” I interrupted. “The envelope invited you? You didn’t actually read the thing?”
“Nope,” she said, and smiled. “It was pretty crazy seeing an envelope talk like that, but hey, I wasn’t about to stop the little dude.”
I nodded my head. “So, you decided to show up, yeah?”
She gave me a look. “Duh. Why not go to a party where you can get as crazy as you want, and then wake up in the morning feeling rested?”
“True enough,” I agreed.
She nodded her head. “Yeah, Pinkie’s parties are always a good time. But sometimes, they need a little help.”
I tilted my head at her. “Watcha mean?”
“I mean, sometimes Pinkie forgets that everyone isn’t as easily entertained by kiddy things as she is,” she said, and shrugged. “I ain’t tryin’ to diss her, or anything, but some of us here don’t want to play Pin-The-Tail-On-The-Pony.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I see what you mean.”
She sharply turned her head to face me, and said, “Hey, you know what we should do?”
I quirked an eyebrow in question. “What?”
She smirked, and I could practically see the twinkle in her eye, under the shades. “We should go and help liven this party up.”
I looked around, a little uncertain. “I don’t know, Scratch. I mean, I’m all for takin’ this party up a notch, but don’t you think that might hurt Pinkie’s feelings, us takin’ over the entire party like that?”
She shook her head. “Nah, man. I’m sure see be completely cool with it.”
I looked around one last time, as though hoping for some last piece of advice on the subject. Then, I sighed, and said, “Oh, fine. But if we end up makin’ Pinkie cry, I’m blaming it all on you.”
Vinyl rolled her eyes, and said, “Yeah, okay, Connor. You do that. Now, come on! I’m pretty sure I saw a stage or something over this way.”
Then, she shot up out of her seat, and ran off in a random direction.
I huffed out a breath, and and followed after her.
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We found ourselves standing on a mini-stage (a stage that’s a stage, but is mobile), and looking out over the crowed, of whom have yet to realise that something is about to happen.
“Okay,” Vinyl began. “We have all the equipment that we might need. Speakers, turntables for me, a piano for you, mics for both of us, and all the other random stuff.”
“Mhmm,” I mumbled through a full mouth.
“All we need to do now is figure out what we’re going to perform,” she continued.
I mumbled my agreement again.
“So what do you think tha-” she turned to look at me, and paused. After a moment, she asked, “Are you eating pizza?”
I groaned in bliss at the taste of my food.
Vinyl’s brows furrowed. “Where did you even get pizza from? I didn’t see any on the way here.”
I gave her a sidelong look, and said, through a mouth full of cheesy goodness, “Found it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, hurry up and finish. We got something to do, if you’ll remember.”
I grunted, yet didn’t increase the speed at which I ate. After a few moments of bliss for me, and slowly waning patience for Vinyl, she finally said, “Dude! Hurry up!”
“I can’t just hurry when eating pizza!” I defended. “It’s too good to eat quickly! you got to savor it for as long as you can!” I took another bite, and mumbled, “And here I thought you would understand…”
Vinyl groaned at me. “Dude, it’s just pizza.”
I stared at her, shocked. “Just pizza?” I mumbled through a mouthful. “It isn’t ‘just pizza’. This stuff is the best tasting food on the planet It’s like a blowjob in food form!”
She gave me an even look, and her horn lit up with magic. A blue aura surrounded my pizza slice, and it was suddenly flung out of my hand and into the grass nearby.
I blinked, first at where the pizza landed, then at Vinyl.
“Well, that was rude.”
She snorted. “I’m sure you’ll get over it. Now, come on. We need to find a song to play.”
I huffed out a breath. “Fine,” I said, irritated that my holy fruit had been vandalized. After a moment, I came up with an idea, and snorted in amusement at the sheer prospect of it.
“What?” Vinyl asked, seeing that I was onto something.
I looked at all the equipment that we had, making sure that nothing was missing from what we’d need. “I’m looking to partake in a bit of irony.”
Vinyl cocked her head, and asked, “What do you mean?”
I told her.
She snorted in amusement too, saying, “Yeah, that is ironic. And definitely weird.”
I shrugged. “I’ve done weirder.”
She nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you have.” She looked around at all the things we had on the mini-stage. “Think we got everything we need?” She asked me.
“We got mics. The only other thing we need is a mixing table.” I shrugged. “Shouldn’t be too hard to get, considering that we’re in a dream.”
Vinyl blinked at that. “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.” She then turned her attention to an area on the stage where a mixing table would fix, and she closed her eyes. After a few moments of concentration, she let out her breath in in a labored sigh, and looked at the spot she was focused on, panting lightly. She then turned to me and asked, “Uh, think you could get it?”
I snorted, but did it for her. A moment later, and a mixing table appeared where there had been nothing. I looked back at Vinyl, and asked, “So, you ready.”
She looked offended at the question. “What kind of question is that? Of course I’m ready! I’m always ready!”
I rolled my eyes. “O, I’m sorry,” I said, heavy on the sarcasm. “How could I have forgotten who I was talking to? Of course you’re ready. Can you ever forgive me for my ignorant mistake?”
She eyed me. “No-one likes a smartass, Connor.”
“Are you kidding?” I asked. “Everyone loves a smartass, just so long as they aren’t being a smartass to them.”
She sighed. “It’s sad how true that is…”
I nodded. “Yeah. Hey, don’t we have a show to put on?”
Vinyl shook her head, drawing her attention back to the subject at hand. “Yeah. Let’s get to work.”
So, we did.
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A few minutes later, and we were standing in our positions on stage, with me on the front and centre mic, and Vinyl on the mixing table.
Ponies had started to notice that something different was happening, and had started to congregate near the stage. In the crowd, was Luna.
Seeing her standing there had reminded me of something: I wasn’t here to perform for these people. I was here to hang out with Luna. That little fact ran through my mind, and it made me rethink what I had planned for the show.
I pursed my lips as a new thought entered my head, and I turned toward Vinyl. “Hey, Scratch,” I said. “I think I wanna change the line-up of what we’re going to play.”
She quirked an eyebrow at me. “Seriously? You tell me this now? Right when we’re about to start?”
I winced. “Yeah, I know, bad timing, but I kinda feel that I need to do this alone, you know? I was suppose to hang out with Luna tonight, and I kinda just up and left her to hang with you. I feel that I owe it to her to at least have a song dedicated to her.”
Vinyl gave me an odd look. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you were crushing on Luna, and trying to get her to like you.”
I shook my head quickly. “No, no. That’s not it. It’s just that me and her were hanging out before you and I were, and I think it’s just kinda rude to up and leave someone like I did. It’s kinda an apology, kinda not. You know what I mean?”
Vinyl nodded. “Yeah, I know what you mean. You know what you’re going to do.”
I smiled at her. “Vinyl, honestly, I would have thought you would know me better than that. I don’t plan things. I merely have goals, and try to obtain those goals through the most interesting way that I can.”
She snorted. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Have fun, man, and good luck.” With that, she left her mixing table, and hopped off the stage.
I turned over to my mic, and moved it over to the piano, adjusting the stand so that I could sit and talk at the same time. Once that was done, I took a seat and cleared my throat into the mic, getting everyone’s attention.
“Good evening, ladies and gents!” I said to the crowd. “I hope you’ve all had a good dream this night?” The crowd cheered in response. I smiled, and said, “Good! Very good! Now, tonight I’m going to hijack control of this party from our gracious host, Pinkie Pie, and give you all a song. And this song is dedicated to my good friend, Luna.” I pointed her out in the crowd, and a spotlight shone onto her. She got an embarrassed flush to her face, and she sheepishly waved to the onlooking crowd.
I smiled. “Tonight, Luna came to my dream, and asked me to come with her in dream hopping, I guess you could call it. We went to other people’s dreams, and generally had an interesting time.” My smile faded. “But when we got to this dream, I kinda just left her to hang out with someone else. No warning, no real goodbye, nothing. I kinda just up and left, and that makes me feel bad.” My smile returned to my face. “So! I wanted to make it up to you, Luna, for just abandoning you, and give this song to you. It’s called Lost On The Moon.”
And I began to play into the night, where, afterwards, much merrymaking was had.
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Personally, I want to see an episode chapter.
In other news, I will be eagerly looking forward to your next bout of writing that isn't this fic.
How did he speak orange?
3954206 Speak orange? Dude, that was just me changing the color of the letters to make them stand out.
I don't think that anyone can speak a color. At least, no one I've met.
3954219 the text was in quotes, ergo speaking orange
3954498 The words were in quotes. So are many others. Is he speaking black every other time there's a quote?
I altered the color of the name of the song to make it stand out, to make it easier to observe and to make sure that people understood that this was the name of the song. I really didn't think that it would cause this much confusion, and it honestly shocks me that we're having this argument.
3954748 not saying speaking orange is a bad thing. deadpool and pinkie do it all the time. i was just wondering where he learned it.
3954756 Again, he didn't learn it. The text is orange, and Connor doesn't break the forth wall like that, if at all. It was merely an attempt, on my part, to draw attention to the name of the song, and that's all. I wasn't trying to do anything more than to make it clear about the name of the song, and anything else that one might assume was completely unintentional, and not really what i was going for.
To summarize, the text is orange only because I wanted to make the song name stand out, to make it a bit different from the rest of the text, and that in no way does Connor speak the color orange. He can do a lot of things, but that isn't one of them. He isn't quite as insane as Deadpool. Not yet, at any rate.
3954790 sucks bro, deadpool is funny.
3954801 Yeah, but I don't really think that I'd be able to capture the utter insanity that is The Merc With The Mouth. That's a little beyond me.
3954809 yes.
wry
I'd vote for a character-based chapter on Rainbow Dash. While Connor has had several adventures with the Elements, and they've grown more friendly, Rainbow's initial distrust was never really explored, and I'd bet that Rainbow is still a bit paranoid about Connor/Change, as though waiting for the other horseshoe to drop.
4211672 That's one of the few things I regret not doing in the story. I set up that opertunity, but I never took it. So, I might find some way to use it in the future.
4211946
I don't think you've entirely missed the opportunity. Connor/Change has proven himself to Rainbow and the others a few times, but that doesn't necessarily mean that Rainbow fully trusts him yet. I'd bet that paranoia hasn't entirely gone away yet, and there's still something there worth exploring.
- I instinctively curled around the area in pain/afflicted,
- Perhaps it would be best not to tarry on
- it was faint.
- Subtle, quiet,
- I’m sure she'd be