• Published 4th Aug 2014
  • 1,142 Views, 11 Comments

Platitudes - Feo Takahari



A one-winged pegasus enters the Running of the Leaves. She doesn't expect to win. She doesn't have to.

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They're so easy to say

Sometimes, I tell the reporters I don’t even see the other runners. From the starting line to the end of the race, all I see are the blurs as I go by. That’s only half the truth, though. Before the race starts, I see the ones who stare.

There are less of them every year--ones who stare, I mean. You’d have to be living under a rock not to know about the one-winged pegasus runner who’s broken records from Vanhoover to Baltimare. But every time I race, even here at the Running of the Leaves, there are a couple of fresh young things who have no clue who I am. I think they make them in a factory in Fillydelphia or something.

Most of the time, I avoid them--the ones who pity me, the ones who think I’ll be easy to beat, and especially the ones who think I’m “inspiring.” (Celestia, I hate that word.) But Ponyville’s my turf, and they can’t bring me down here, so this time, I figure I’ll bring them down instead.

I trot right over, easy-like, and stare as hard at them as they do at me. Two of them cut and run--I bet they can’t run half that fast when they’re racing! The third stares right back at me, not blinking at all.

As earth ponies go, she’s a wiry thing, lean-muscled like she doesn’t do a lot of lifting. Her dark blue mane looks messier than a bird’s nest, and she’s got these big horn-rimmed glasses perched on her muzzle, the kind your granny might wear. She’s either gonna be a pushover or one of the best runners in the race.

“Do I have something on my face?” I ask.

“I apologize if I’ve offended you,” she says, all formal-like. “You’re Rainbow Dash, aren’t you? I’ve heard many things about you, and I felt I had to meet you in person.”

“See the freak for yourself?” I say, joking like it doesn’t hurt. “The amazing one-winged pegasus?”

“Until five years ago, you were one of Equestria’s best fliers,” she says, “and now, at your age, you’re one of Equestria’s best runners. I’ve read all your interviews with reporters, but I still don’t feel that I truly understand you. I feel that doing so might help with my . . . condition.”

“I don’t do platitudes,” I tell her. “That’s what I tell reporters, right before I drop a platitude or two on them. Seriously, if you really wanted to get me, one hundred percent get me, you’d have to lose something big. It’s not worth it, trust me.”

She looks at me like I’ve just called her a mule or something. Which I kind of have, actually. “You’re not the only one who’s--”

“Rainbow!” Applejack calls. “We’re startin’ in five minutes!”

The fancy talker heads straight for the starting line, and I finally get a look at her flanks. A water droplet. That’s not an earth pony cutie mark.

“That mare,” I ask Applejack, “do you know her?”

Not the first thing you’d normally say to somepony you haven’t seen in months, but me and Applejack have what you’d call an understanding, only it’s about how we don’t understand each other. She’s happy here in Ponyville, and I’m happy racing all over Equestria, and both of us are really happy when those interests meet.

“Just a little,” Applejack says. “She’s new around here. Her name’s Slack Tide.”

No earth pony would have a name like that. Which means . . .

“There’s a broken horn under that messy mane, isn’t there?” I ask. “Applejack, am I a huge jerk?”

“Yep and yep, sugarcube,” she says sweetly. “But you can tell her you’re sorry after we race.”

-- -- -- --

Everything around me is a blur. Blurs of trees, and blurs of runners. Both of them might as well be standing still.

I feel my muscles moving, nice and even. No pain, just exertion. My wing rises into the air--

“Why aren’t you pacing yourself?”

It’s Slack Tide again, somehow keeping pace with me. How the hay does she have the energy to talk while running this fast?

“Steady and even, that’s how you run in every other race,” she says. “If you keep this pace, you’ll tire. Why?”

“Ponyville,” I say, conserving my breath. “Not a big race. Don’t have to win.”

“That’s not an answer,” she says. “Why--”

I stop bothering to conserve any energy, and I leave her in the dust.

My wing rises again, and I feel the wind rush under it. I’m getting older, slowing down. I may never run this fast again. All I can do is savor it while it lasts.

I don’t realize Applejack passed me until I hit the finish line. No surprise there--she always beats me at this race. Slack Tide beat me, too, but there’s no shame in a bronze.

I duck away from the crowd at the finish line. Applejack moves to follow me, but stops when she sees Slack coming my way. I motion the unicorn towards me, and we walk off into the trees, where nopony will hear us.

-- -- -- --

“I run that fast because I have to,” I say. “Just once a year, I need to not pace myself. To go so fast I hardly touch the ground. Just once a year . . . I need to feel like I’m flying.”

“There’s still a hole in your heart, isn’t there?” Slack asks. “Just like there’s a hole in mine.”

“I thought I could make the pain stop,” I tell her. “I guess I was mostly right. But it never really stops twinging.”

“Then . . . what hope do I have?” she asks, looking down at the fallen leaves.

“You said there was a hole in your heart,” I say. “Find something that fits it, and work your flank off ‘til you fill it. That’s my platitude for you. That’s my easy, stupid answer.”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“Then your life will suck until you die. Seriously, I can’t be your cheat sheet here. I can tell you what worked for me, but you have to figure out what works for you.”

She meets my eyes again. “I have one more question, but I fear it may be impertinent. That orange mare . . . Applejack . . . there seems to be something between you. What has she lost, to let her understand you?”

“She doesn’t get me at all,” I say. “She has no clue why I let her win these races. She just knows they mean something to me.”

“Is that . . . really something you’re happy with?” she asks.

“She wants me to be happy. That’s good enough for me.”

I turn and walk back towards the post-race party. I don’t look to see if she follows.

Author's Note:

Edited by m2pt5 and Daedelean.

Inspired by Tough Little Pony by Isseus. I'm afraid he'll think it's stupid, but I feel like I had to write it.

Comments ( 11 )

That’s my platitude for you. That’s my easy, stupid answer.

Sometimes, that's the very type of answer some of us might need.

Thank you for writing. :twilightsmile:

It's not bad for what it is. I'm pretty sure unicorn horns grow back, though.

Also, I always wonder why magic seems to be able to do everything except fix stuff like missing or crippled limbs. If nothing else, all it takes is Fluttershy asking Discord nicely and then Rainbow has a brand new wing.

This was amazing. It captures a scope of acceptance and reality that both irks and inspires, but what makes it truly incredible is how well the reader can buy into the characters in such a short amount of words. This is also how I picture RD in similar situations. You crushed it.

Stay frosty! :rainbowdetermined2:

Eh, I like the concept, but the execution left something to be desired. It felt more like a checklist than a story--there's no buildup or pacing, and everything felt rushed and un-detailed. That might have been intentional (show how Rainbow Dash is equally blunt to everyone, including ponies she doesn't know and/or how she doesn't put much value on emotion after everything she has been through), but it doesn't really feel consistent. RD leaps around from being guarded to melancholy to optimistically helpful. Again, that might have been intentional, but even with all the explicit references to her identity crisis and emotional evasion, it doesn't really work for me.

Downvote from me. There's the beginning of a good story here, and with a slower pace and more words it could work well. The explicit reference to and interactions with platitudes in particular fits in with Dash's personality. As-is, however, it feels too rushed to say anything meaningful.

4801032 Oh, that one's easy.

4804741

All I'm saying is, there comes a point where I can't suspend my disbelief for this kind of plot. I understand the desire or tell relatable stories that strike an emotional chord in the readers, but sometimes the setting is so fantastical that it just doesn't seem plausible.

Twilight once turned herself and all of her friends into dragonfly fairies. There is a flower that shrunk Applejack down to the size of a kitten and trippled the size of one of Rainbow's wings as a joke. Discord once plucked Rainbow's wings off an put them in a box. And magic is a form of science to them! How can they possibly not have a regeneration spell or some kind of magical prothesis for exactly this kind of problem?

4804741 This is an entirely fair response. I wrote this story really quickly after reading Tough Little Pony--I was pretty much just trying to expel the more toxic aspects of that story. It probably can't compete with stories whose authors worked on them for a really long time.

4805726 Eh, the trope doesn't really bother me in and of itself. There's plenty of potential explanations, justifications, and handwaves available to make it internally consistent.

That said, this story doesn't bother to mention any of them, so I can see where you're coming from.

4806202 A short, under-written story mostly used as an idea outlet? I certainly have never written one of those :trixieshiftright:

I kind of just read a story about unicorns losing their horns so when that came up it really hit me. I enjoyed this cute, little read. It isn't much to fuss over but I still think it has heart. :heart: So while I may not give it a fave I am giving it a big thumbs up. Well done. :raritywink:

The story I was talking about is this one: The Monster Below Read at your discrimination as it quite the graphic, hard story to read.

Nitpick

but me and Applejack have what you’d call an understanding,

- I and Applejack
(quick check: "someone and me" = "us")

Don't find beautiful fanfictions like this everyday.
Feo Takahari, I applaud you.

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