Chapter Three
Rarity rubbed her head against the pile of pillows, trying to force that feeling down. She had turned all of the lights off, nothing remaining except the soft moonlight creeping out the big oval windows. She opened her mouth, taking in a little breath. She leaned her hooves over.
Empty. Like always. She rolled to the side, her long, fizzy mane rubbing all over her shoulders. She stared straight upwards, eyes right on the blank white ceiling. Empty... Of course, Sweetie Belle had every right to stay with her friends, least of all when it had to do with a legitimate class project for Cheerilee.
Rarity also had no reason to feel as if anything was wrong. She'd had solitary nights in far worse places than her own house. Her eyes slanted down the wall over to the clock. Not quite 2am, and that's not as bad as... I thought it would say.
She tossed around for the umpteenth time. She tried putting her front hooves over the sheets. That hardly helped. She heard a soft scurrying above the rooftop, probably another one of those owls that had popped up around her part of town. She started to picture the feathery creature, living totally alone, but another set of scratchy noises immediately followed. Even he's got someone... isn't that right?
She kicked herself upwards, getting out of the sheets altogether. She rubbed them along her side, clutching a big hunk of the sheets like a pony-body-sized pillow. She took a deep breath. It's not right. I know it means a lot to me, but I can't let it affect me so much. It's just a show. She rubbed her head against her mane. Just a show. Just a show. She felt herself beginning to tear up again, and she cut herself off by turning over once again.
"It's a show," she whispered to herself, voice so quiet that she couldn't even hear herself. "Pony writers made it to sell foal's 'science kits'. To sell them education toys. To sell toys, praise Celestia. They're made up characters." She knew she was lying to herself with those last words. She knew it as clearly as she knew that the sun would rise the next day.
She heard the lines from the episode replay in her mind once again, nose sniffling. She insisted to herself that she wouldn't cry again. Her body had her mind scream at it. Her mind just cycled through her thoughts as she had watched it, the characters feeling so real that she could almost touch them.
The show had went:
"If I didn't wake up tomorrow, would anyone really miss me?" Joey remarked to Katie, leaning over the railing. He looked off into the distance, taking in that seaside atmosphere besides the docks. He anxiously fingered his dark glasses around those long, gangly fingers of his. "I don't mean 'feel sad', that's just something that's on the surface. More of that social stuff."
Poor Joey, always suffering from that social anxiety of his, never could manage that 'social stuff' very well. That's why he had his bandmates-- his family by another name. Yet he always thought, deep down in those almost forth-wall breaking monologues every couple episodes, that he held them back, being so shy.
"What do you mean?" Katie asked, walking over besides Joey. She didn't get too close. She simply gazed off into the sunset as well. Her long, soft hair shifted in the ocean wind.
"What I mean is," Joey said, putting his glasses back on. The true fans, the humies, all knew that he did that so that no other human would see him crying. "Would it make a difference. Would everyone else truly 'miss me', or would they see me as a passing thing in their life. One of those 'little nice things' like a painting on the wall or a potted plant in the corner that you like but you don't care, deep down, as it comes and goes?"
Katie simply sighed rather than give an answer. She stood up from the railing, folding her hands together. Just her pose said enough. She could hardly understand him despite the fact that they'd tried some real 'dates' besides merely friendly bantering with each other on set. His confession changed a lot of things, but it didn't change Joey's inherently shy nature. Peter, on the other hand, had more than just talent and ambition. He had that amorphous thing that women kept mentioning in the show. That 'humanity'.
"You love her. You love her so much," Rarity whispered, grabbing the sheets tightly and holding them against her chest. "And you're letting her go. Just because you can't believe in yourself." She took a gulp, feeling her eyes water. You don't think you're capable of real love, having a real relationship. "Go after her. Fight back. Do something."
"I'll see you later," Katie finally said. She walked off, heading towards the part of the shipyard where those kids had been trapped by the massive electromagnet earlier in the episode.
Joey slumped down to the ground, still holding the railing. He whistled. The camera panned out, and the whistled turned into singing.
The scene flashed over to the rest of the gang, moving around their band equipment. Katie walked over to Peter, and they took hands, both of them grinning from cheek to cheek. The credits rolled in a moment with Joey's song coming up faintly.
"She went away for the holidays," he sang, standing up. "Said she's going to L.A." He stepped over to his skateboard. "But she never got there. She never got there." He kicked the side, activating the rockets. "She never got there, they say-y-y-y-y. The P-e-t-e-r took my baby away." As he flew across the concrete over to the Damona's Rock-N-Roll Mobile, he sputtered out one last verse.
"I hope that they would miss me."
"They would miss me!" Rarity squeaked. She opened her eyes. "People would get sad if I didn't exist, right?" She wiggled over to the left, sliding off some of the sheets. "Ughhhhh." She made a soft whine, rubbing her hooves against her temples.
It's only a show. It's only a show. She couldn't take it anymore. She let her tears drip down onto her pillows. I can't stand it. Why is it affecting me so much?
She sat upright. She gazed off at the window, seeing a very faint reflection of herself in the moonlight. I know why. I should stop lying to myself. She looked down at her front hooves, all perfectly done with such silky smooth white fur on her slender body, and she eyed her reflection, something choppy and distorted.
"But they would miss me. Twilight. Rainbow. Fluttershy. They'd miss me. They would," she said to herself, still crying but the tears easing up. "And they would really--" She pounded the pillows. "Really." She hit them again. "Mean it!"
She heard soft rustling against the window, maybe the rain finally coming down, and she stopped. She sighed. She curled her head down against the pillows. It's not just that. It's that he's... They couldn't have been less alike, of course. Nopony would ever had associated an elegant unicorn such as herself with an uncouth human that dressed as such a "punk", as his associates called him, with horrid hair, jacket, jeans, and glasses.
She knew more, though. She hadn't just grown to love him almost like Sweetie Belle as time went on. Episode after episode, from seeing him discover the power of buoyancy to rescue that sunken ship and retrieve the treasure from mere ping-pong balls to rejoicing as he finally spilled his feelings for Katie, he had become something more. She had started to see herself in him.
She put the sheets over her head, trying to force her mind to just wipe itself clean. Sleep! Sleep, for Celestia's sake, why can't I sleep!
"She went away for the holidays..."
Flashes of various stallions that she'd run into in Canterlot-- stallions that eyed her beauty and picked her up like an expensive broach only to toss her aside when another, even more beautiful and more posh mare sauntered into sight-- ran through her eyes. She banged her head against the pillows. She let out another, louder whine.
"I can't take it," she murmured. She tossed about once more, and she eyed the clock. "Really?" She put on a sarcastic tone. "2:49am?"
She kicked off of the bed, scratching around her body in a way that she'd be mortified to have other ponies see. She magically slid out the pPad from under her bed. The device clicked on and powered up.
*Pop!*
She clicked onto the main browser panel. A nice drawing of the moon coated in a sea of white tulips, made hundreds of years ago by Star Swirl the Bearded, decorated the area around the empty bar. She clicked, preparing to type.
Anything... anything to get my mind off of that show... She randomly typed 'Bra', eyes half closed. Not too surprisingly, the suggested search-line popped up various things about Braeburn. She chuckled.
Brae...
[+]Braecost industries
[+]Braeburn is gay
[+]Braeburn is not gay
[+]Braest political group
[+]Braeburn is sexy
[+]Braeburn is making foals with me
[+]Braeburn is secret royalty
[+]Braeburn hates his meme
Related Searches: [+]Ridiculously Handsome Stallion, [+]RHS, & [+]R.H.S.
"He seems straight as a Canterlot parks redwood to me," she muttered, clicking on the 'not gay' option. She found a mess of links, a few of them leading to sides with big red 'may harm your computer' labels besides them. She hovered her hoof over one to something called 'Rule_63_Braeburn_Princess_Celestia'. "Gosh, I wonder what that rule is." She rubbed her other hoof onto her cheek. "Probably more horrid pornography, maybe something done by some foal in her mother's basement. Is 63 one of those awful code words?"
She clicked over to the next page. She eyed the link right at the top of the screen. She could hardly breathe.
pisfiction.net/story/20889/Braeburn-Impregnates-Fifty-Humans%3-And-Fun-Begins
"Oh, dear sweet Celestia," she whispered. She started to click, but she froze halfway. Her eyes moved over to the clock. "3:15am?" A familiar voice inside of her called out for her to stop, turn the thing off, magically lift it over to the ground, and finally fall asleep. She felt her face scrunching. "This is... I'll just bookmark it for later."
Braeburn Impregnates Fifty Humans: And Fun Begins
Because sometimes stallions fall in love, and sometimes those stallions decide to share that love with an entire set of ovulating fictional bipeds. Because sometimes stallions don't use condoms, and sometimes they make the silly assumption that the sperm filling their marshmallow-candy-like pony cream have no affect inside human wombs. Because sometimes authors want to celebrate their two-hundred-and-fiftieth watcher (seriously, don't you ponies have lives or something?), by doing pure porn without plot. Warning: the forth wall will be mercilessly raped.
P.S. Stop stealing my "because sometimes" line, you pervs unless you want to pay via stimulation of an erotic nature. I know who you are. Seriously, keep stealing. I'm looking forwards to your payments.
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"Oh, it's you, isn't it?" Rarity muttered. She moved over to the author tab. "Fran_the_Fran, we meet again." And did she ever say if she's coming to my party? She opened the story. "Marshmallow-candy-like pony cream? Really, Fran_the_Fran?" Do I even WANT her to come?
Braeburn tossed about like Discord dancing to Cher, hooves losing control. He finally snapped out of it. He leaned upwards, trying to see. Everything just had a sheer white light obscuring all the details.
"Am I dead?" he muttered. He rubbed his front hooves over his face. "Is this heaven?"
A long, thin hand reach out from the blinding light, curling up around his golden mane. Fingers moved into his long, flowing strands. He said nothing, fighting back an involuntary whine.
"Oh, it's just our spaceship," the creature called out in a soothing voice. It sounded like nopony he had ever heard before. He leaned back, and he saw several other hands going around his body. He squealed as they ran down his chest, fur rubbing against bare skin. "We've only abducted you here to help us for a little while."
"You're not one of those bipedal beasts," Braeburn moaned, eyes flashing with sheer terror, "like that story on the internet, right? You don't capture ponies and tie them up in order to make meat for your 'Sandwich King' places?"
"Pfffffff," Rarity muttered. "What a stupid meme reference. We get it." She waved her hooves in the air. "Everypony has read 'Sandwich King'. Everypony knows that story about the little human girl tying up her pony friends and carving them into sandwiches as she sings-- carving out a bloody cutie mark as she goes 'Who's a silly pony? Who's a silly pony, Applejack?' Everypony on the bucking ponynet has read that parasprite-fic. Even non-humies know about it, for crying out loud."
No, no, no," cooed the voice. A bare shoulder rubbed up out of the light over to Braeburn's side. He felt the long, slender arm going around his neck. "We're not making sandwiches, silly."
Braeburn gulped.
"We're making babies."
Rarity glanced down at the clock. "3:29am?" She clicked back to the main page for the story, scrolling through the comments at random. MapleJack101, DoctorApples, 700-Degree-Mare, No_Limit_Coltcuddler, Snake-In-The-Plot, Miss_Everything_99, CelestiaAteMyHomework, and the rest of her "regulars"-- her closest PISfiction friends-- had all chimed in. Most of them, for whatever reason, loved it.
"No," she said to herself. "I have to sleep. I have to get these bucking humans out of my head. It's just a fandom. Why is it taking over my like. Do I really enjoy this?"
She glared at the screen. It felt like work. It felt like an obligation rather than a simple thing. I have to comment. I have to support my friends. If they don't hear me there, then they'll wonder why I haven't been on there for 'so long'. Even if they define 'so long' as half a day or so, sheesh! She slid over to the log-in area, eyeing the time once more.
"3:50am!" Rarity called out. She put her head down and hit it against the screen. "Blast you, humans!"
She rattled through her name and password, pausing before she clicked. Well, I guess it's another rough night. She could already sense that she had messages from Fran_the_Fran and DoctorApples, confirming that they'd come. I've had so many ponies RSVP. I should be ecstatic.
As she finally clicked, a horrible sinking feeling crept up her belly. What if they don't like me in real life? What if it all falls through? We're already friends, and I'm risking us getting into conflicts over petty things. She had a deep realization.
She made them laugh. She made them cry. She made them feel hot in the parts between their legs. Yet, deep down, her readers hardly depended on her. They were her friends, as real to her as Twilight, Fluttershy, and everypony else. Yet her relationship with the ponies online had this distance to it, this natural separation coming from the nature of the website. Face to face, that separation that let her expose her inner psyche by twisting herself into a cartoon 'netsona' image was gone.
She worried about TBH. The stallion meant the world to her. Yet he had no reason to think of the online banter as more than causal flirting, something that would mean little in real life. He wouldn't understand. He wouldn't know that if we just talk, if I leave the party and come home alone, then I'd... I'd... Rarity teared up once more.
She put her head into her hooves as PISfiction loaded. Those humans and their fandom weren't just a part of her life. Those humans and their fandom, a place making her a minor celebrity and giving her joy that she couldn't explain but had to keep secret, had become a part of her. And any normal pony that she'd talk on the street would think of it as "just a silly cartoon for foals to sell science toys." Yet she could feel it inside-- Joey's words as real as Twilight's during their darkest moments against Discord, Nightmare Moon, and that horrible changeling queen. Difference was, Joey's question never got an answer.
"If I didn't wake up tomorrow, would anyone really miss me?"
To Be Continued...
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I really like how you are creating a parallell that isn't a close duplicate!
That's certainly emotional and deep. Hope things go better for her at her party.
456129
img6.imagebanana.com/img/73a1w6ur/RelevanttointerestsSniper.png
img6.imagebanana.com/img/s8fjjcjb/ApprovedSniper.jpg
DoctorApples eh?
~In Medicus
Brae...
[+]Braecost industries
[+]Braeburn is gay
[+]Braeburn is not gay
[+]Braest political group
[+]Braeburn is sexy
[+]Braeburn is making foals with me
[+]Braeburn is secret royalty
[+]Braeburn hates his meme
No Braeburned? Because I know for a fact that the forth option is Braeburned. Not that I look for that kind of thingt3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRCFYQOkExe4MVu1ZN7zLurjpP1EzjK_hNg0q_MF1kcHDeNqIYYP4X33qK1 .
pisfiction.net/story/20889/Braeburn-Impregnates-Fifty-Humans%3-And-Fun-Begins
DO IT, RIGHT NOW
THRAKERZOD COMMANDS IT
CelestiaAteMyHomework, Totally my excuse on Monday.
"What if they don't like me in real life? What if it all falls through? We're already friends, and I'm risking us getting into conflicts over petty things"
Wow I can honestly say, I know how she feels.
Currently I'm processing a test video and then I remembered how messed up my voice is, These were some of thoughts.
515653
Hahahahaha, yes... I'm making fun of myself.
Thanks for noticing the reference.
encrypted-tbn1.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRRUfJNv7_QBSZiumL0HneNepKH3Oe9geUSdrQM6rixHMdSg3he6S0-7YEB
Dear Celestia, you are just OOZING fanfic material.
Guah... Sooner or later, someone is going to write them up.
Does rule34.ponheal.net exist in this? dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_Lyra.png
>forth-wall
dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/sillyfilly_Rarity.png
... Weeks later I look upon this chapter...
Yet now it has me teary eyed.
Oh woe is I, to be made to shed tears as I look upon this
and draw my own comparisons...
Odd isn't it? Why does this type of literature draw us in so deeply?
Why do we shed our emotions for those who do not even exist in this life, let alone this world?
Something that should be so trivial evokes emotions like that of Romeo and Juliet when Shakespeare first unleashed his
genius upon the world.
What of you, dear Swiper?
What emotions did you feel when writing this chapter?
Was it of sadness? Joy? Love? Anguish?
The world may never know, lest we all cry out in agony...
Okay, I am done now.
Please, continue with whatever that you were doing good sir.
I'll just sit here and wait until I decide to continue my own stories.
Yup.....
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Most/much of this story was me letting things out about MLP and being a writer. It's such a complicated thing-- the relationship that one has with their fans as well as their peers, wondering what's really worth doing. I have to be honest and say that-- for this specific chapter-- I was in a very sad mood.
854230 So it is.
The same could be said for other people, specifically those whom make Tumblrs.
So many great ones out there, yet at the same time so many others canceled.
Life is like a river. Eventually, though it may start out strong, it will eventually end in a trickle.
But that is the conundrums of philosophy.