Chapter One
Orange Picker walked to the edge of the cliff and looked down. The ponies on the bottom were as small as grains of dust on a kitchen floor. Orange Picker’s heart rate rose, but she gave it no attention. Strapped to her back was a pair of wings made of sticks and cloth, each twice the size of her earth pony filly body. A handle with a paddle like device stuck out of the wing system, in front of her front hooves. Blood dripped from it and her body and face were covered with so many cuts and bruises that they formed patterns like the constellations. Entire patches of her orange body and mane had turned to a dark red and blue. The soft breeze irritated her injuries and shot pulses of pain throughout her body, each strong enough to send any other pony into shock. She stood tall though and let the wind pass through her.
OP walked away from the edge and strapped herself tighter to her wings. In front of her were a series of hills that stretched to the horizon and beyond. They all had fruit farms and farmhouses on them. The largest held up a small town, which was really just a town hall, some stores and even more farms. As the sun rose the farmers all came out of their houses, smiling. Orange Picker shook her head. Far off in the distance was Las Pegasus, just a blur in the sky from her view.
OP rotated the paddle with her front hooves. The wings flapped. She put her hooves back on the ground and dragged a trail of dirt and grass behind her, looking straight at the edge of the cliff. Her heart rate was still high, and her injuries stung more to remind her of their existence. She looked up at the sky. A group of Pegasi played in the air, laughing. "No more tomorrows," she said. Her heart rate returned to normal.
Orange Picker snorted. She charged towards the edge, making sure not to slip on the wet grass. The edge grew closer with every step, as did her concentration. She kept her focus on a point in the sky and stared at it through the wind blowing at her eyes. The edge was now only feet away; she was past the point of no return. She charged up the muscles in her hooves for the final jump.
“Orange Picker,” a voice called out.
Her concentration broke. She found herself stumbling towards the edge, with her wings flapping by themselves from the erratic movement. They pushed the air behind her and sped up her horizontal free fall. Orange Picker choked down the temptation to scream and detached herself from her wings. She slid on the grass, injecting her hooves into the ground. Her speed decreased, but only by a little. She fell off the cliff and latched onto the edge. The pull of her body nearly broke her grip, but she held on with everything she had. Her wings fell off the cliff a few feet beside her and spiraled down through the air. A second later they were nothing more than a collection of broken twigs and ripped cloth. Orange Picker’s grip began to give out.
“Orange Picker. Orange Picker. You there?” The voice was that of another filly’s. Hoofsteps came from on top of the cliff. One of Orange Picker’s hooves slipped from the wet grass. A face popped into view; it was the filly. She grabbed Orange Picker’s remaining hoof. “Oh my Celestia. Don’t worry. I got you.”
OP shook her hoof. “No. I’m doing this by myself,” she screamed. The filly let go of her and stepped back out of view. Orange Picker threw her free hoof back onto the edge and pulled with all her might. The fact that it was so hard pissed her off, but being in such an injured state she wasn’t all that surprised. Her head made it on top of the cliff and she used her hind hooves to throw herself forward. Orange Picker landed on her stomach and exhaled. Her hooves were numb, but she was alive.
The filly ran to Orange Picker. “Are you okay? Please be okay.” She rocked Orange Picker's body back and forth. OP stayed put on the ground to regain control of her hooves. It was coming back, but slowly. The filly continued rocking her and was more out of breath than the filly she was trying to save. OP recognized her. The filly was Nectar, a yellow and light orange earth pony that went to the same school as her. Like herself she too was a blank flank.
“Orange Picker. Orange Picker. Say something,” Nectar said. OP got up. Her hooves still felt like jelly bags, but it’d have to do.
“Don’t worry. I’m okay,” she said. She faced Nectar. “But why’d you scream out my name like that? I could’ve died. Not that I got a problem with that, but I’d rather not die in such a retarded way.”
Nectar was on the verge of crying. “I’m sorry, sorry, sorry, sooo sorry,” she said in her soft voice. She dropped to the ground and shook. Her larger than normal eyes and foal like appearance made her look cuter than any bunny. “Please don’t tell anypony.”
Orange Picker chuckled. She picked up Nectar and smiled. “I already told you; don’t worry about it." Nectar stopped shaking and smiled. “So what’s up? Why are you out here screaming my name and not in class?
“I was actually just there. Ms. Blossom sent me to look for you. She said she wanted you there immediately and seemed really mad. I’ve actually never seen her that mad before,” Nectar said.
Orange Picker laughed. “Ha. Like that’ll ever happen. Why don’t you tell Ms. Blossom to stop wasting her time and do something useful with her life for once.” Orange Picker looked up at the sky. The Pegasi were gone. “And besides, I’m busy.”
“About that…” Nectar said. She touched Orange Picker’s wounds. “What were you doing anyway? I mean I know you’re always covered with cuts, but not like this.”
“Oh, I’m just…” Orange Picker remembered the pile of debris that was once her wings. “I mean I was just trying out my new wing system. Crashed a lot, just part of the process.” She put her head down and frowned. “So much for that though.” An idea popped into her head. Orange Picker shot towards Nectar and smiled. Nectar pulled her head back. “I have an idea. Why don’t we do something together?"
Nectar paused. “But I have to go back-.”
“Oh forget about school and Ms. B’s propaganda,” Orange Picker said.
“Pr…opaganda?” Nectar said.
Orange Picker ran to a nearby bush and pulled out a book. The letters on the cover spelled Excelsior. Orange Picker opened the book and began reading. She smiled. “There’s no limit to what we can do.” Nectar just stared in silence. “We can learn how to make dresses, become party planners, work out, learn every type of martial art, open Equestria’s first fight club.” She continued reading. “Or my personal pick. Thank the creator I remembered to write this.” Orange Picker shook from excitement. “We can fight bears. Come on. I even heard there’s an Ursa Major around here. What more could you want?”
“No,” Nectar screamed. She shook and turned her head in every direction. She lowered her voice. “No. Just please, no.”
Orange Picker put her hoof around Nectar. “Come ooon. It'll be hard, maybe even impossible according to you, but isn't that the fun of it? And besides, if I can do it then anypony can. Where’s your self-confidence? You can’t suck that much?”
Nectar pushed herself away from Orange Picker. “Sorry, but I’m getting late. Come on OP, let’s just go to class. Maybe Ms. Blossom won’t be that mad.”
Orange Picker growled. “I already told you, no. Didn’t you hear me the first time? And besides, there’s no way I’m going today. I’d rather dive head first off that cliff. And if there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that I don’t lie. There’s already enough liars in this so called kingdom.”
“Why not today?” Nectar said.
“You haven’t heard?” Nectar shook her head. Orange Picker chuckled. “Not surprised. Ms. Blossom’s giving a presentation today, and I refuse to go and sit through thirty minutes of indoctrination.” Nectar once again just stared in silence. “It’s about the most disgusting thing we ponies have tricked ourselves into loving—cutie marks.”
Stats
Page generated in 0.016 seconds
Total duration
1,011 users online
1,391,554 hits today, 1,996,409 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Dun, dun, dun!
Seriously though, this was a nice read and it sounds promising. I'm definitely looking forward to more.
Just a small tip, it could help your writing if you used names less in it. Almost every paragraph starts with Orange Pickers name, and about a third of them say "Orange Picker" in it at least twice.
This one however, was in a very good spot.
Also, please don't think i'm a hater, I really love this story. I'm just trying to give a little constructive criticism.
Edit: Sorry for the long comment!
Must resist the urge to make an OP joke.
What's her name again?
OP is a...really compelling little filly. I'm really looking forward to reading more, and I'm falling in love with her defiant nature.
4080098
OP is a faggot
no, not the pony
I like where this is going. Most ponies are slaves to their Cutie Marks, and tie themselves to one thing for their whole lives. The Princesses are prime examples.
4144824 Didn't you read the beginning? OP is a glorious winged faggot. Also,