Hurt
The frigid wind blew across the wastes, tossing a few errant flakes of snow into the air. It whistled mournfully into the darkness as it passed over hills and mountains of ice and snow. There was no bright sun here. No shining, yellow light. Only a soft and silvery light that reflected off of the white blanket that covered the world now. The wind needed no light. It flowed like water around obstructions; the only thing that flowed anymore on the dead and cold world. It was sound and without that, it would be nothing.
For a moment, the wind stopped its sad song. A deathly quiet - a peace of sorts - settled where once the ever-present howl called to those who could no longer hear its cry. Then - as if called - the air suddenly shifted and sped off in a new direction. A range of mountains many miles away where the ruler of this dead world had awoke. The only thing that kept her company was the wind.
"I once loved the night." The mare spoke, her breath billowing out into the chill air in a smokey haze only to be whipped away by the wind. She reclined on a bed of blackened stone - the last remnant of a battle won long ago - in a ruined castle held together more by sheer strength of will than by physics. Tattered tapestries, once grand displays of power and wealth, lay in useless heaps under a thick layer of the ever-present ice. What little light shone through the broken windows gleamed off of discarded and dented pieces of armor and weapons, scattered about as if dropped by some careless foal. The ice had preserved everything as it was at the moment of her triumph. She once had thought that enough. She once had thought that was her desire.
She did not - could not - move save for her head. Her body long ago was encased in ice that not even her strength could break. But her head - that she kept mobile through her will. She cast an idle glance around the room. Once, so many ponies had come to pay tribute. Once, so many happy bright faces had filled these halls. Once, long ago.
"I thought of them, I thought of them through the long years we were apart." The mare dipped her head, licking at the ice. It had been her only sustenance for so long she wondered if she even remembered what real food tasted like. "I thought that it would be enough.
"I was wrong."
The mare looked across the entire length of the room. Ice coated all. The colorless remnants of the stained glass windows that had adorned the walls glittered strangely beneath the ice, their shine lost in the unmoving sea. The few possessions discarded in terrified flight that had managed to withstand the destruction. The slagged remains of the once-golden doors that sagged under the weight of aeons. She looked everywhere save one particular corner. There, thought covered by ice, lay six stones inscribed with runes. The last remains of those who once stood against her. The last defense against her madness.
"I regret. I cannot feel, I cannot ... feel anymore. My anger has left me, my sorrow has left me, my ... everything is gone now." The mare turned her head, her face a brittle mask of calm. "If I could go back and change anything, I would. If I could ... if I could take back words spoken harshly and feelings left unspoken, I would."
The mare sighed as best she could, the ice surrounding her constricting as she breathed. She looked into the sky, the myriad of stars swirling above her in their dance. How long had it been since she had heard laughter? How long had it been since she had felt warmth? How long had she sat there, staring into the uncaring sky and wishing beyond hope for a chance to undo her greatest of mistakes?
"I miss you sister."
She sat there, staring into the darkened night's sky, her eyes unblinking as ice crept up her throat and face. As she was slowly encased in a glittering coffin. No tears fell, no last words but what she had already spoken. Nothing else needed to be said. Nothing else was left. She sat there, finally unmoving, staring out beyond where her sight could see. Memories of warmth and light filled her vision. Trees and grass. Blue skies. A city on a mountain, shining with an intensity that brought shame to the ice that encased her.
Memories of six special mares staring her down, trying desperately to stop the madness that had consumed her. Of Laughter, a pink blur of energy. Of Loyalty, her blue face grim and her rainbow mane blowing about. Of Kindness, a yellow pegasus of untold and untapped strength. Of Generosity, the sneer a cover for a deeper dread and resolve. Of Honesty, pure sadness uncovered by any mask.
Of Magic, her purple face showing anger and resolve but also a deep well of sadness and hurt. Of betrayal. She had been the key, of course. The one that could not hurt her. The one that trusted her, that held back. The one that failed her by being true. And the one she failed the most.
As the ice slowly grew across her eyes, the mare wondered if she would ever be free. To run again, to dance in the sunlight. To laugh and to love and to cry.
To apologize.
The wind swirled about the ruins of the city, chasing itself through crumbled and broken buildings. The mare never called now but that was fine. The wind was sound. So long as sound existed, it would exist. Even if the mare never called again, it would exist. It whistled mournfully, as if to cry out its own existence into the uncaring universe.
Thus lay Empress Celestia. Sol Inviticus, Queen of the Undying Sun, called Daymare Sol by her detractors. Her face turned ever upward into the Great Beyond. The star she once called her own - now a gutted and weak dwarf smaller even than the now-destroyed moon had been, spent as it was from her Madness - made its way across the sky as the stars slowly winked out, one by one.
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- Tramper · 11k words · 35 3 · 1.4k views
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Oh god... sad Woona on the moon... I'll read it tomorrow when it isn't some stupid time in the morning...
Good luck on the psychological concept
If Only - Queens Of The Stone Age
I really thought that was about Nightmare Moon till the end. That was quite interesting. I rather like the twist at the end.
Have a star and a thumb.
Excuse me, I lost my jaw somewhere around here, anyone see it?
That was beyond awesome. I almost wept, for gods sake! Can't wait for the next chapter, whatever and whenever it may be, unless that incomplete tag is an accident.
1062044
OH MY GOD, I forgot to check off complete! Stupid, stupid, stupid. This is a one-shot.
Man, color me red-in-the-face.
Honestly, and I mean true honesty, this left me feeling.. lonely. This was, for a lack of better words, amazing. It truly was. You deserve more exposure than this. I had thrown this on to my "Read Later" list without giving it much thought, and here I am, 3:45 in the morning, writing this. I hope to see more from you.
This feeling in my chest. Oh god. I've only felt this one other time, and that was at the end of Scarlet Harvest. You've touched me. The descriptive words made me feel sad, lonely, even dead. You deserve more fame. Great job.
Why must it be so late?
Have a dragon with a Stache.
1062131
Ooh I like that, I thought it was Luna that had won at first. Also throughout most of the story I could not help but think of this being one of those stories where one of the characters faces the end of the world after suffering untold amounts of pain and suffering watching friends die and then they get sent to the past 'somehow' (usually into their past body) and they try to work for a better future while working through the pain of seeing all of their dead friends walking around and acting like nothing happened. You know it's strange but I have yet to see a single time travel fic on this site like that, even a little, although I have seen a lot of fics similar to that in Naruto, Bleach, Harry Potter, and other fan fiction of the like. Do you know of any pony fictions like that? Ooh or would you be willing to write one yourself?
1252565
Uhm, there was one where Dr. Hooves was involved, something about a human in Equestria after humanity reached another level of existence ... I didn't like it very much. I don't remember the name and I stopped following it when the Doctor got involved (not a big Dr. Who fan). I usually don't play with time travel, myself. Takes too much planning, too many things could go wrong or end up in situations that don't match up with how the time travelers 'experienced' them beforehand ... it's a bit of a mess unless you devote a great deal of pre-work into it and, really, this hobby is just not something I plan for. Sorry.
1253166
Not your fault I just enjoy your writing style and wanted to see if you would be willing to try.
I hurt myself, today...
To see if I still feel...
I focus, on the pain...
The only thing that's real...
The needle tears a hole...
The old familiar sting...
Try to kill it all away...
But I remember, everything...
-Hurt, Johnny Cash
2880637
Incorrect,
Hurt, Trent Reznor
Very nice, well put together piece. Good for giving one a heavy heart.
3264701 Come one man. It's just a song.
3265321 I dislike misquotes, and we are dealing with my favorite band here.
3265541 Hey, don't look at me I didn't downvote you.
3265543 oh I get plenty of those, don't really care. Nobody really likes the guy who says what needs to be said.
3264701 Actually, you are BOTH correct.
2880637 is not incorrect. They BOTH sang it. It wasn't a misquote either 3265541. That really is how the lyrics to Cash's version go! Just because Reznor sang it first, doesn't remove any legitimacy from Cash's cover. Ferrote, you'd rather play the game of firsts, than acknowledge another artist can "own" a cover. Get over yourself.
I'll just leave you a quote from Trent Reznor himself, referenced from Alternative Press #194, September 2004.
"I pop the video in, and wow... Tears welling, silence, goose-bumps... Wow. [I felt like] I just lost my girlfriend, because that song isn't mine anymore... It really made me think about how powerful music is as a medium and art form. I wrote some words and music in my bedroom as a way of staying sane, about a bleak and desperate place I was in, totally isolated and alone. [Somehow] that winds up reinterpreted by a music legend from a radically different era/genre and still retains sincerity and meaning — different, but every bit as pure."
3715486 Why are you yelling at me, I just typed it down. He made a big deal out of it. Either way, I cried a little
3715493 No, no, no, no, no! Not yelling at you! I'm on your side!!!
I defended Johnny Cash's version as being just as legitimate as the original Trent Reznor version. My link back to your post says ">> SCP Pinkamena is not incorrect."
All posts referenced should receive a reply notification, note that the post is actually directed to ">> Ferote", but references your comment to define what HE IS incorrect about.
Totally, not yelling at you. defending you and Johnny Cash both.
**EDIT** I think I see... If you read ONLY the line referencing your post, it actually, does not ID ">> Ferote", so if you read it without reading the line prior or connecting them, it could come off possibly misleading. I'll alter it to clarify intent! My bad!
And the old message is fixed! Sorry for any confusion! Don't cry! Let my Luna profile pic hug you instead! Just look at those hooves! You know she wants to hug you!
3715486 never said Johnny couldn't sing this song wonderfully, however I was playing the wrong game.
Oh, not to start this again, but Cash only changed one word in the song if memory serves.
3715523 I find it kinda funny that you both are online right now, responding to my replies to a 13 week old series of comments!
I just really despise when people jump out to point fingers and say "Wrong, wrong, wrong!" over the "sin" of quoting and crediting a cover's artist. I know MANY covers, and their artists, and KNOW they are covers, yet couldn't name the original song's artist. I DO listen to old music... I routinely listen to the Andrews Sisters, Danny Kaye, Cab Calloway, Bing Crosby, etc. I try to find out from time to time who did a song originally, as I may like the original more, but if a cover makes it into the collective memory of a generation, it's not wrong to credit the cover artist for their success!
You could have easily pointed out that Reznor was first to write and perform the song, but your comment just came off as mildly hostile, while also coming off as almost... lets say it makes you sound like you almost want to discredit the legitimacy of Cash's version, like his doesn't even count. That's the taste your comment left in my mouth. It just felt a little rude, a little spiteful, and a little snappy, and I felt the need to set it straight.
Both of you were right in your ultimate crediting of the artists, but you were wrong to say SCP Pinkamina was incorrect in referencing Cash.
BTW, the word that changed between versions was "crown of shit" becoming "crown of thorns" in Cash's version.
I also have to admit... The ending caught me by surprise. I went into this expecting one thing, and then BANG! Another! Might I also mention that it truly is a sad story...
Well written, well played...
3715560 Ah, well I think I have a little bit of aspergers, so reading things from another pov is pretty hard for me. Thanks for the perspective.
3715560
3716897 That is amazing!
Thanks for that disturbingly catchy bit of sillyness!
Oh man, this is a good one. It would have been a good one even if written straight, but the twist at the end really got me.
Hey Minalkra! Here is my honest reception to the story. It is a bit severe, but I thought you would welcome the unfiltered criticism
+++
I thought the story did not have enough substance to it. Given its short length, and the simple, yet heavily written, idea of a mare fading into death, it read as an exercise in atmospheric writing rather than a full-fledged story with a working conflict and resolution.
We're introduced to a barren landscape in its heavy depiction of unpleasant wistfulness. Its description was, I thought, okay, but not gripping to the reader. It was a passive opening because it was too narrow in its purpose. The tone is set for the narrative, but the tone is not in relation to any person or event as of yet---it stands as a natural description with little to speak about besides the mood. This would not be as much of a criticism if a description like this came after a character or event; in order to provide context, but as I read it as an introduction to the story, I was not fully engaged.
The next section was mixed in its quality. I like the several of your descriptions such as the tapestries, once luxurious and telling of power, was encrusted in ice. However, the brevity of the story comes to hinder my experience at this part. She's talking out loud to no one, as if this could vicariously give a semblance of action to the story. I understand the intention of wanting to draw the reader into an intimate scene of her last series of words, but it could have been done internally as thoughts. Its a logical oddity for the mare. And if you wanted to go for a dramatic effect, I would have used a dialogue form for her absolute last words to the reader.
Another quibble I had was with her ice entombed demise. There isn't framework for why its happening at this very moment. Again, the story's narrative is only concerned in establishing the somber tone and the regret of the mare. This is primarily why I say this came off as a writing exercise because there is not enough substance here to tell a conflict with an organic solution, as in constructing a cause and effect plot. The audience is invited to watch a mare die off in which she can do nothing about it. The cornerstone of a plot story is the agency of choice---if you we're intending a proper story, this was not it.
The ending was confusing for me. I thought this was Luna the whole time, and I was slightly annoyed that I did not know who it was until near the end. It came across off as a twist that did not jive with me, because I thought the elements of harmony reference, and the location I presumed to be everfree castle, was taken from season one episode two. The only credit to your setup was Twilight's betrayal description, which sailed over my head as far as predicting the revelation until I arrived at it.
+++
Tell me if any of this critique was questionable
4092865
Sure, I guess. Strike of inspiration: I wrote until I was done, then stopped (I don't plan anything out, ever). There was no obvious conflict/resolution to this piece and if you use that to define a 'story' then I guess this is less a story and more a scene - though I'll expand on that later.
The Wheel of Time was really on my mind at this point in writing. It always opened with a wind which would lead into the main portion of writing as both a unified thematic opening as well as an illustration of the 'wheel' idea - that which never truly ends nor begins, just exists in differing states. I was trying to call back to that type of idea and yet 'twist' it in the sense that only time itself never truly ends, everything else does - though because the wind remained at the end, I still tried to keep it relevant.
I'm going to disagree with you on some points here. She's not talking to 'no one,' she's talking to a person that can never hear her - her sister. There is no 'action' in this story that isn't implied. You - the reader - have to create in your own mind's eye the 'last battle' where the mare won. It's implied through the scene (and rather than atmospheric writing, I think this lends itself more towards an exercise in 'scene writing') the last moments of the castle and the mare but it's not ever described. That is up for you to envision.
And I talk to myself all the time, so it's not unnatural to me that a character voices things while alone. As to the second underlined part, that would have been a great idea if I didn't want to keep the mare's identity a secret until the very end. Without that end-twist, I could totally see the echoes of the 'final words' being played through her mind.
The underlined portion is a failure in description. The ice isn't forming fast. By putting that action near where the stars die, I wanted to imply that it was a slow and torturous process. It wasn't a sudden-onset ice prison, she kept her gaze affixed on the stars as she was finally entombed and her struggle was surrendered. I should have made this more obvious, though, because re-reading it, I realize I placed them far enough away that it wasn't clear.
The twist was part of the plan all along. Sorry, that was pretty much the entire point - to make the reader think it was another of the (at that time) endemic 'Luna Goes Nightmare Again' stories.
Another part I might have done better at explaining was the place of the scene. I wanted the location to be specific-without-specifying. It was never in my mind's eye that it was the Castle of the Two Sisters - it was Canterlot. "A range of mountains many miles away where the ruler of this dead world had awoke." "The few possessions discarded in terrified flight that had managed to withstand the destruction. The slagged remains of the once-golden doors that sagged under the weight of aeons." These pretty much point out it was a living castle rather than a dead ruin and the golden doors are a clear call to the Celestia-specific Canterlot architecture. Or so I thought. Evidently, I didn't make the location clear at all.
Overall, I think your critique was fine. It pointed out where I failed at telling the reader enough information to make things clear, mostly. The story elements aren't exactly clear either, though that was more design. The mare is protagonist, time is antagonist and the conflict (her struggle to remain at least partially mobile) isn't really seen very much until the resolution (her surrender to the slow creep of ice). It's not very traditional as it's pretty much all internal and 'hinted at but never seen.' I find the most effective way of drawing forth emotions is to hint and suggest rather than to outright say everything - and that can cause both confusion and irritation on the part of the reader at times, as you've undoubtedly felt. It's a balance that I very rarely get perfect.
This just doesn't seem your cup of tea with it's oblique and suggested references and the fact I failed at several points to make myself clear didn't help matters. If ever I return to this type of story, I'd probably try to be more clear in at least two points while remaining very suggestive at most of the rest. I think it works at drawing the reader in and asking them to 'fill in the blanks' with their own imagination.
Thank you for taking the time to try this out and for your detailed and thought provoking critique. It made me think 'what is the plot of this?' and the fact I had to think about that fact really made me wonder if I was at all clear what the whole point of it was. I tend to write 'organically' (read: amateurishly) without planning about plots or conflicts or antagprotagonists and the like. It shows. SoOS is more a traditional piece though I'm still so early into the story that not very much is clear at the moment. I actually have a loose plan for it though so I'm hoping it'll strike more your fancy. Again, thank you for both trying and giving such a wonderful critique on this.
4093851
Want me to take a stab at SoOS? I ask because I may have some comments on story development that could be answered if the story was to be updated and completed.
4094162
Sorry! Sorry! Work has been draining everything and I had a few things I had to do and ... I manage time very poorly.
Anyway, only if you want to. I'd love another set of eyes on it but I have no immediate plans to continue that at this present time. OtbOA is my only project and the only one I have time for at the moment.
I saw the title and immediately Johnny Cash
Uh. Well then.
That was sad.
Quiesce in pacem, Celestia. Tuum insania non conmoves iterum, et omnes est optime.