10. Super Good Advice
“Reality is the most ruthless analyst.”
—Born of Sight
S I L V E R S P O O N
Luggage.
Upon arriving at my home, the first item of significance to enter my awareness was a veritable mountain of luggage standing just within our front gate. A sporadic trail of servants was weaving its way to and fro, ferrying more pieces to add to the growing pile.
Among that herd was my head servant, Mirror Sheen, who spotted me from the corner of his eye. After a few curt instructions to his lessers, he broke from his station and swiftly approached to receive me.
“Welcome home, Lady Silver,” he greeted with a sweeping bow, genial as always. “I trust your day went well?”
“A subject best avoided,” I responded impassively as I made towards the door, unconcerned with the servants flocking about. “Yours, on the other hoof, looked rather eventful.”
“All too present to be past tense,” he quipped, glancing momentarily behind him. “Much of today was spent coordinating Madame Sterling’s travel itinerary, but there’s still plenty of packing left to do, and other logistics to organize.”
Travel itinerary? “I wasn’t aware mother was planning another trip.”
“Indeed, to Hoofington. She has seen fit to directly oversee the mining operations there, in hopes that they can raise output to meet the rising demands of the Equestrian Defense Forces.”
“I see.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised. Mother was always disappearing for days or even weeks on end for some work reason or another, often leaving my sister and I behind at home. Though it was certainly unusual for her to not have at least informed me of the circumstances surrounding her trip—after all, she had been rather intent on instructing me in the management of the family metalworking empire, for whenever I was due to inherit the business.
Perhaps it was to be discussed over dinner. Which prompted the question…
“Will mother be joining us for supper tonight?” I asked my servant, ascending the stairs to my front door
“Madame Sterling made it very clear that we were to finish as many of our tasks as we could prior to sundown,” he explained as he held the door open for me, “so that she could spend the remainder of the evening with you and your sister prior to her departure.”
A story as likely as it was the myriad other times she told it.
“Very well.” I stepped over the threshold with a heavy sigh. “I suppose I’ll be retreating to my quarters ’til then.”
“Of course, Lady Silver. We shall summon you when dinner has been readied.”
If it is ever readied.
No matter. This was just another piece of unwelcome news in an already very unwelcome day.
But, at the very least, I had a distraction.
It only took a few moments for me to find Dovetail and Stranger, standing beside each other by the courtyard balcony overlooking the City. Dovetail leaned over the railing, while Stranger had a hoof on her shoulder. Neither uttered a word, simply gazing off into the distance as the sun began to set over the horizon.
Something seemed off.
“Hey,” I said, making my presence known, which caused Dovetail to visibly twitch. She did not turn to face me—though Stranger did.
“Good evening,” said the mare with a subtle bow of her head.
“Where’s everypony else?” I asked, glancing around for any sign of the others.
“Zaid and Freya are currently on an expedition to the Valhallan Wastes,” she explained. “Dovetail and I elected to stay behind, and Mash retired for the evening. Unfortunately, I shall be doing the same in a few moments.”
“This early? That’s unusual. You usually stay until around nightfall.”
“I do, yes,” she said with a nod, before turning to Dovetail, who was pointedly ignoring the conversation. “But, well… extenuating circumstances would suggest I withdraw early.”
I could do without the unnecessary vagaries. “Extenuating circumstances?”
“Dovetail's had an… interesting evening,” Stranger continued. “And I believe she’ll need your help to parse her thoughts, Shadow.”
Wonderful. Though Stranger seemed to be doing much to assuage whatever was troubling the filly, an agitated Dovetail was rarely a good sign.
“Will you be alright?” Stranger asked the filly in a motherly tone.
“Meh,” Dovetail meh’d.
The older mare glanced back at me with a helpless shrug, before giving Dovetail a reassuring nudge. “You’ll work things out soon, my little pony. Talk with Shadow. He’ll be far better-equipped to settle your nerves on the matter than I.”
Oh, yes, you’re certainly more than welcome to volunteer my time without my consent. It wasn’t as if I had logged on to seek respite from my own frustrations or anything of the sort. No, I most certainly expected to be spending my free time offering a comforting shoulder to a filly whose emotional range was more unpredictable than a yak prince’s.
Not that I would say that out loud, of course.
“She’s right, Dovetail,” I said softly, my masculine timbre cutting through the din of the Tower’s ambiance. “I’m here if you need anything.”
Stranger smiled, then stepped back with a bow of her head. “Then I shall be taking my leave. I hope she will be in good hooves with you.”
“She will be. Good evening.”
“Good evening.”
With a burst of ghostly static, Stranger transmatted away, leaving me alone with Dovetail on the balcony. Silently, I trotted up beside her and threw my forelegs over the railing, staring out towards the vast urban sprawl of the City before us.
No words were exchanged for nearly half a minute, which was not uncommon between us. Over the past few months, Dovetail and I had gotten comfortable enough with each other’s presence that even a dead silence wasn’t awkward or offensive.
Still, I idly wondered what had her so agitated. And, judging by her silence, she did not seem keen on telling me.
My eyes wandered to Dovetail, whose gaze never strayed from the sunset. As I stared down at the smaller pony, I found myself taking stock in how differently we had approached our characters.
Here was I, a tall, dark-skinned umbra stallion with an imposing muscular build and rather exotic features that exuded an air of otherworldly strength, only barely kept in check. I had even gone through the trouble of changing my voice, with the assistance of the Archmage, to a gruff, masculine purr, one that would far better suit a hypothetical "Prince" Luna—her Grace forgive the analogy—than it would myself.
In all, there was absolutely no resemblance between the filly Silver Spoon and the stallion Shadow Song. I was the complete inverse of my in-game counterpart in almost every conceivable way.
On the other hand, Sweetie Belle’s character was much closer to her own self. Though Dovetail was subtly more lithe—eschewing her creator’s modestly shapely curves in favor of a more limber athletic figure—she still maintained a petite build that wasn’t all that bigger than the filly in reality. Similarly, her coat was a pristine white—not quite the muted gray of Sweetie Belle’s own, or even that of her sister’s, but close.
The resemblances ended there. She had curiously elected to create an earth pony—no horn interrupted the frazzled mess that was her mane, its dual yellow-and-crimson tones a far cry from the filly’s gentle, flowing shades of pink. And all of this was accentuated by brilliant blue irises, sharp and intense as lightning.
While I would have described Sweetie Belle as having a soft, inoffensive, cutesy appearance… Dovetail was undeniably fierce.
…Yet, despite that dichotomy, there were enough similarities that anypony familiar with the filly could barely mistake Dovetail for anypony else. The two identities were likely a mere perm-and-dye job away from being a natural evolution of each other.
Such a curious design for a character had set my mind abuzz, speculating over what could have informed all of those decisions, and I found myself wondering if there was an answer to be found in the depths of those vibrant blue eyes.
Which were currently staring back at me, eyebrows raised.
“Something on my face?” she spoke, for the first time all evening.
My expression did not falter. “No, Dovetail. Your face is fine.”
“Why were you staring so hard?” It was clear I had set her at unease.
“Your character has an interesting design,” I answered honestly. “I was noticing your mane’s resemblance to one of the Wonderbolts.”
“Spitfire?”
“Yes. Though your colors are more vivid than hers.”
“Yeah, hers is more like an out-of-control wildfire,” she said, turning back to the view while idly hoofing at an errant strand of mane. “Or maybe like a sunset.”
“An apt comparison.”
The silence returned as swiftly as it had left, and she seemed no closer to revealing what had her so on edge. In fact, her demeanor was surprisingly relaxed… if her idly pawing at my leathery wings was any indicator.
“You have an interesting character too,” the filly remarked as she did so. “Are you actually an umbra?”
I gave the webbed appendages a ruffle. “No.”
“That’s what I thought,” she said, turning back to the sunset. “Umbrae are rare in Equestria, so that would be a long shot in the dark.”
“Yeah.”
“What made you pick an umbra?”
“They’re mysterious.”
“That’s all?”
“Fierce. Cunning. Resourceful. Stealthy.”
“Hm. You know, that might not actually be true of umbrae. Maybe that’s just how they look.”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Heh.” She chuckled a bit, then turned to me with a grin. “I’ll bet they’re all super-cheerful party animals. Like Pinkie Pie!”
That was a rather… specific comparison. “Pinkie Pie?”
Her eyes twitched for a moment, before she let out a dismissive laugh. “Heh, uh, sorry. One of my sister’s friends. You probably don’t know her.”
“I… see.”
“So have you ever met an umbra before?”
“Yes. Once.”
“Really? How?”
“Princess Luna visited my hometown several years back. She had a small complement of umbra as her personal security detail.”
“Oh hey, I remember that!” she exclaimed, perking up with an expectant look. “It was that one time she came by for Nightmare Night, right?”
…That was twice now that she had said something overly-familiar. Yes, Nightmare Night was precisely the reason why the Princess had been in Ponyville, but Sweetie Belle couldn’t possibly have known we were referencing the same event… or that I had even been in Ponyville to witness it.
“It had not been around that time of year, so I don’t believe it was for Nightmare Night,” I lied easily, making a show of raising my eyebrows.
“Oh, I see,” she said casually, as if her curiosity had been sated. In fact, I would have believed it myself… had it not been for that subtle twitch of her eye.
If it wasn’t clear before, it was now: she was manipulating me, phrasing her sentences to goad me into providing a specific answer. And that time, she hadn’t gotten the answer she wanted.
I had no idea what she was trying to do, nor what she wanted to ask, nor what it had to do with her strange behavior, or even why any of this mattered. But this was my game. And I fully intended to beat her at it.
“Those are rather specific circumstances,” I remarked, highlighting the cause of my confusion.
A moment of pause as she considered my words. “Yeah, I guess they were. The only time I’ve ever really met her was when she visited Ponyville for Nightmare Night, so I assumed…”
An assumption? No, more like a shoddy attempt at an excuse. “She’s a Princess, Dovetail. She likely has duties to attend to all over the nation. It doesn’t always have to be about festivities.”
“Yeah, good point,” she said with a sigh. “So what was her visit about, then?”
I could devise a story, but if it had any holes… better to stay on the safe side.
“Their visit didn’t concern me, so I wasn’t privy to the specifics,” I explained as vaguely as I could.
A raised eyebrow. “You don’t sound very excited about it.”
“The affairs of politicians do not particularly concern me.”
Widened eyes. “Politicians? They’re not just politicians, they’re the Princesses! They run the entire country! They’re the highest law in the land! They control the sun and moon!”
“And how, exactly, is that relevant to me?” I rebutted. “I appreciate the Princesses and what they do for us and our nation, but their business is their own, and I’m not involved in it.”
“But— but it’s the Princesses!” she sputtered. “They’re— I just— you didn’t even wanna meet them or say hi?!”
“The last thing they need when they’re trying to get things done is a crowd of adoring fans trying to catch their attention.”
She blinked at that. “I… yeah, I guess that makes sense.” She looked as though she were contemplating something. “Did it maybe have something to do with the city itself? Maybe she was meeting with the mayor. Where was this all taking—“
She froze, as if she had said something she hadn’t intended to.
Unfortunately for her, that made her intentions abundantly clear.
“Dovetail,” I growled as the pieces began falling into place, “why are you trying to figure out where I live?”
Her pupils shrunk, panic overcoming her features. “I, er, I’m not—“
“I see what you’re trying to do,” I snapped. “And that last line made it clear as day. You want to know where I’m from, and you’ve been twisting your questions in hopes that I would let it slip.”
Her ears flattened. She tried to speak, but no words came out—I had hit the nail on the head.
But that wasn’t enough. I needed to know why. Which meant a little guilt-tripping was in order.
“I thought we had reached a certain understanding,” I groused. “You know very well that I value my privacy, and I figured you would have enough sense to respect that. Apparently I was wrong.”
“That’s— that’s not true, Shadow!” she stammered, leaping forward. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to— I mean—”
I whirled on her, hoping to impress the full force of my character’s imposing physique. “Wanted. To. What?”
She gulped visibly, but said nothing. I decided now was the time for answers.
“Dovetail, you’ve been acting strange all evening, and it’s starting to frustrate me that you won’t just be straight about it. Something obviously happened before I logged on, and it’s clear that Stranger is in on it too. Why did she say that I was the only one who could help you deal with the situation? And how in all the Stars does where I live have anything to do with it?”
A pause. A nervous scratch of the hoof. Then, slowly, her features relaxed.
“Promise me you won’t be mad?” she asked.
So it was something that would make me mad. Good to know. “I’m afraid I can make no such promise, Dovetail.”
Her features visibly strained. Nonetheless, she took a deep breath, and began to explain.
“A mare named Prosperity contacted us about an hour ago. She said she was a developer for Eternity. She’s throwing some kind of event in Manehattan tomorrow. An Eternity party, with a big tournament. And she really, really wanted us to attend.”
A tournament? How very curious. “By us, I assume you mean Sanctuary?”
“Yeah. Obviously Zaid and Freya can't, since they live outside of the country, and Stranger already said she won’t able to attend either, for… her own reasons. So that leaves just me, you, and Mash. Since you weren’t online, she wanted me to extend the invitation to you on her behalf. All expenses paid, including train tickets. She sent three to the addresses that we gave the company when we registered for Eternity. Miss Ditzy Doo will be delivering them to our doorsteps tomorrow morning.”
…
“Miss Ditzy Doo,” I deadpanned.
She nodded.
“Our doorsteps.”
Another nod.
…Oh dear.
Dovetail wasn’t trying to figure out my hometown.
She already knew.
“This mare told you I lived in Ponyville,” I hissed, “didn’t she.”
“…Yeah.”
Wonderful. Just wonderful.
I heaved a great sigh, staring out towards the distant sun as it finally set over the horizon.
“Dovetail, under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t be mad,” I began to explain. “But this? All these mental gymnastics, just to get me to admit that I live in Ponyville? Why didn’t you just tell me that she let it slip? I wouldn’t have blamed you for it.”
“I don’t know!” she admitted, clearly apologetic. “I guess I just wanted to get you to admit it yourself, so you could reveal that information on your own terms.”
“Trying to trick me into admitting it isn’t exactly what I’d call ‘on my own terms’, Dovetail.”
“I know, and I’m sorry,” she implored, before averting her gaze to the floor. “I guess… I guess part of me just wished that you would.”
A moment of silence…
“I mean… to think,” she continued, clear hesitation in her voice, “that you lived in Ponyville, all this time?”
…
“And on top of that, you didn’t trust me enough to tell me…?”
Oh dear.
“That’s not it at all,” I tried to reassure her.
“Then what is it?” she suddenly snapped, rounding on me, her expression pained.
“My reasons are my own—”
“And you can’t trust me with them?!” she cried, tears welling up in her eyes. “Shadow, I thought you were my friend!”
“I am—!”
“THEN WHO ARE YOU?!”
Her roar was deafening, echoing across the Tower courtyard and causing several heads to turn.
I barely noticed. She had asked the question that I thought I’d never have to answer.
“Dovetail, listen,” I began, quickly raising a privacy bubble around us to deter prying ears. “Who I am doesn’t matter—“
“Yes it does!” she shouted, now weeping openly and pointing a shaking hoof straight at me. “How could you say something so inconsiderate?! Do you realize what this means for me?”
“Look, it’s not—“
“All this time, you told me you wanted me to respect your privacy, and I did!” she sobbed, her tone a mixture of confusion and rage. “Yet, without my knowing, I haven’t had any this whole time! You know exactly who I am, because I don’t hide any of it, and Button says my real name like ten times a day! We live in the same town! You've probably met me, and I had no idea! Do you see what’s wrong with this picture? Do you see why this is a problem?!”
“Dovetail, I do, but—“
“I have absolutely no clue who you are, and yet you could be anyone in my life!”
At that last utterance, I found myself at a loss for words. All I could do was stare into her tear-stained, electric blue eyes, which bore into my own with a ferocious intensity that felt as though it were piercing through all of my lies, my secrets, every deception, every misdirection.
Everything I had worked to maintain was falling apart. And I couldn’t think of anything to say that could fix it.
“I’ve told you things about myself that I would never tell anyone else,” she whispered, her voice hollow, “because I had no idea that you could be somepony I knew. You could be the cashier at Barnyard Bargains. Or a guardsmare working at the station. Or a weatherpony on the weather team. I could be walking past you every day, and I wouldn’t even know…”
Suddenly, her face went pale.
“What if my parents were right?” she whispered, shaking with fear. “What if you’re… you’re a ped—“
“No.”
She froze.
“Dovetail,” I said, stepping forward; she shied back instantly, eyes alight with panic. “I promise you, by the Grace of all the Sun and Stars in the sky, I am not that.”
A few moments passed as she digested my assertion, undoubtedly trying to evaluate it for truthfulness. Eventually, she looked up, and her gaze had steeled.
“Then what are you?”
“I…”
I didn’t know.
For once in my life, I didn’t know.
My life was one I lived with intent. Everything had a purpose, a reason, a goal. There was always an end result in sight, one I could pursue with a clear plan in mind. And I was always, always in control.
But this? This was a problem I had not a single clue how to solve, and the mere notion left me paralyzed with indecision.
When I first joined this game, it was to infiltrate Sweetie Belle’s life, to vex her in one of the few sanctuaries she believed safe. Over time, it evolved into an opportunity to become familiar with the filly, perhaps discover things that I could one day employ against her.
And had she revealed oh so very much to me. Guilt over her struggles in school. Anxiety over her graduation. Admiration towards her sister. Jealousy towards her talented friends and their certainty over their futures. Even the barest slivers of doubt about her romantic prospects, to which she swore having never spoken about to anypony else in her life.
I had yet to use any of it. The time had never been right, and as the months passed, I had wondered if there would ever be a right time.
So what was there left to do? I couldn’t maintain this relationship, at least not with my anonymity intact. The status quo had been irreparably damaged, and Sweetie Belle would never trust me the same way again, no matter what I tried.
…Was there even a point to trying? I had learned all I needed, more than I ever expected, and this relationship could bear no further fruits. I could quit the game, abandon my secret identity, and return to my normal life. Was there anything left that I could even hope to achieve by maintaining appearances?
No matter how many times I asked the question, in all its countless permutations… my mind supplied a blank.
Yet, somewhere in its deepest, darkest recesses… there was something curious. A nagging urge to try and salvage the relationship, in any way possible. It seemed ambivalent to the apparent lack of an outcome that could benefit me.
…
No.
There was a purpose. There was intent. There was a piece of myself on the line.
My pride.
Sweetie Belle may be the better gamer. But this? This was my game.
“Shadow…?” implored Dovetail, drawing my attention once more. “Shadow, please… say something. Anything.”
I let out a heavy sigh, then locked eyes with her.
“What do you want me to say?”
“I…” she jawed for a few moments, her tone filled with uncertainty. “I… I don’t know. I just want answers. Why did you do this? What do you want from me?” She visibly shuddered. “Are you going to… hurt me?”
“Absolutely not, Dovetail,” I declared with finality, hoping that my tone would brook no argument. “Whatever you may think of me now, whomever you might imagine me to be, I can assure you that you are in no danger of physical harm.”
“If not, then why?” she pleaded, with manic eyes. “How much do you know about me? Do you know where I live?”
“Yes. You’re Sweetie Belle, a schoolfilly that lives in a boutique not far from the city center, and owned by your sister, Miss Rarity. I’ve been inside on several occasions.”
She gulped. “…How far away do you live?”
“Not far. I’m a few districts over.”
Her eyes widened hopefully. “Are you one of my friends?”
“No.”
They shrank instantly. “Then how am I supposed to trust you? How do I know you’ll keep your word?”
“I… suppose you can’t,” I admitted. “But if it means anything, I never, ever intended to approach you, much less hurt you. I never planned to introduce myself, reveal who I was, or do anything to compromise my identity. As far as I’m concerned, you’re just a filly that I play games with online, and occasionally see trotting around during my day-to-day. I would have been perfectly satisfied with living the rest of my life apart from yours.”
“I… I see,” she said. Slowly, she recovered her composure. “…Why?”
“...It’s complicated.”
“Well, we have all night,” she persisted. “And… I think you owe me some answers. I’ve told you a lot of things about myself, things that nopony else knows, yet sometimes it feels like I’m pulling my teeth with you. The absolute least you could do is throw me a bone.”
“I…”
“Please, Shadow,” she implored. “You want my trust, and I’m trying really, really hard to give it to you. But trust is a two-way street. I can’t trust you if you won’t trust me.”
A memory surged forth, unbidden. A library. Strands of purple mane. A whispered reassurance.
A partial truth was still the truth, right?
“I… just didn’t want anypony to know I played video games,” I admitted. “I didn’t want there to be any link between myself and others who might reveal this secret.”
“I… I see,” she said. “But… you know you can trust me, right?”
“Yes, Dovetail, I know, and I do. But not with this. This is just too risky. I could lose everything if anypony ever found out, and it’s easier just knowing for absolute certain that nopony knows. Not even you.”
She blinked, then glanced down at her hooves again. A few tense moments passed as she pondered my admission.
“I… guess I can understand that,” she finally said. “After all, I’ve been there. Heh… though you probably already knew that.”
“…Yes.”
“Why is it such a problem for you though?” she asked. “You’re a stallion. I don’t think ponies would care.”
A fair point. “I’m in a position where any single piece of dirt, no matter how supposedly trivial, could tarnish my reputation forever.”
“…I see.” She did not seem convinced.
“And, keep in mind,” I said cautiously, hoping that this next admission would be enough to regain her good graces without revealing too much, “that your sex in this game is optional.”
She froze, and her face scrunched up in confusion. “…W-wait. Does that mean you’re a mare?”
“Not… necessarily,” I answered vaguely, dangling the tantalizing morsel before her. “I make no admission either way. I’d… rather nopony knew.”
She blinked several times, processing the answer, and her countenance softened immeasurably as she did so. No doubt the mere notion that I was potentially a mare had done wonders to dissuade her fears.
There may have been a line in the sand between us, Miss Belle, but clearly some things were universal, no matter which side you stood upon.
“…Okay. I… I guess I understand,” she finally replied.
“Thank you. Is that enough to sate your curiosity?”
“…I don’t know. Maybe?” She shrugged. “I guess it’ll have to do…”
‘For now,’ were the unspoken words undoubtedly left to wither on her tongue.
“Very well.”
As she looked off into the distance, I breathed an internal sigh of relief at having averted yet another disaster… by the skin of my teeth, at that. I certainly wasn’t out of the woods yet. No doubt this would come up again, and I would have to find a way to prepare for—
“So, uh… I guess that means you’re not coming after all, are you.”
Hm? Coming? “Pardon?”
“The tournament. In Manehattan.”
Ah. I had almost forgotten the point of this conversation.
“I’m afraid not,” I said with a helpless shrug.
“Heh, figured…” A half-hearted chuckle. “Not gonna lie, when Miss Prosperity told me you lived in Ponyville and asked if I could forward the invitation, I was really… really hoping you’d say yes.”
I spared her a vaguely apologetic smile. “Sorry to disappoint, Dovetail.”
“It’s fine, I guess. Button’s almost definitely going, so at least I won’t be alone.”
“Almost definitely?”
“He has to ask his mom first, since he’s not thirteen yet,” she said. “But I’m pretty sure she’s gonna say yes. Hay, she might even go. She loves this sorta stuff.”
“She sounds very supportive of her son.”
“She is. She’s a wonderful mother.” Dovetail gazed off, her expression going soft. “Kind, caring… a bit loony, if I were being honest. But always encouraging him to live his dreams, no matter what. Always there for him.”
Were it so that own mother could be nearly as ever-present.
“I wish my own mom were like that.”
…That voice had decidedly not been mine.
I turned to stare at the filly who had so immaculately, unknowingly, echoed my own thoughts. She returned my look with a helpless, wistful little smile, a subtle shimmering in her eyes hinting at some deeper grief she left unspoken.
I barely had time to think on my own response before it left my mouth.
“As do I.”
Her eyes widened, but before she could speak, she suddenly halted, her head turning sideways as her focus snapped to something in the distance. “Er, hi sis, what’s up?”
…Ah. Her sister Miss Rarity had seized her attention. Well then.
“Really? They’re inviting us to dinner? Now? What for?” A momentary pause, then a nervous titter. “Heh, uhh, yeaaaaaah, I was gonna talk to you about that later tonight… No sis, I promise I wasn’t planning on going without asking you first, I’m not demented.” Oh, but I’d argue that. “…Oh haha, very funny.” Clearly, I wasn’t not alone. Brava, Miss Rarity. “…Yeah, I’ll explain everything at dinner… Okay, just call me down when you’re ready.”
She turned back to me with a sheepish smile. “Uhh, sorry about that…”
“I’m assuming that was your sister?”
“Yeah. She just got a summons from Button’s mom, inviting us over for dinner.”
“Speak of the devil,” I mused. “What’s the occasion?”
“Well, somepony told his mom about the trip, and so she invited us over to discuss our ‘mutual’ plans to go to Manehattan.”
“That sounds… awfully definitive. I thought you were still considering?”
“I am!” she huffed angrily. “That… ugh, that blockhead just decided to take the initiative, I guess!”
“As impulsive in real life as he appears to be here, I see.”
“No kidding. I’m surprised you haven’t already known that about him, actually.” She appraised me slowly. “I mean… you have seen him around before, right?”
And here I hoped we had evaded this topic.
“...Yes, but only on rare occasions,” I lied.
“Oh. I see…”
An awkward silence befell us again. Somehow I was not surprised.
Looking to avoid the awkwardness, I glanced upwards towards the sky, which was only just beginning its transition to night as the stars blossomed to life, one by one. Distantly I wondered who controlled them in this world, if the Princess of the Night was long gone—
Knock knock.
“Er, one moment.” I quickly muted my headset before calling to the door. “Who is it?”
“Lady Silver?” came the voice of my steward from beyond the door of my room. “Dinner is ready.”
“Ah, thank you!” I called back to him. “I’ll be down in a moment!”
“What’s up?” came a voice from my headset, and I glanced back at the stratoscreen, which showed Dovetail with her head cocked to the side in curiosity. “Were you talking to somepony else?”
“Yes, my st— I mean, yes, I was,” I spoke quickly into the mouthpiece. “I’m afraid I have to go. I’ll talk to you later, alright Dovetail?”
“…Okay,” she replied, her voice clearly laced with disappointment. “See you later.”
“See you.”
Standing up and taking off my headset, I tapped the front of the Hoofbox. The stratoscreen, and Dovetail’s crestfallen face, faded from view.
That was not a clean departure. I had undoubtedly left her hanging, possibly with dozens of questions on her tongue, and a mind filled with uncertainties.
But I had done all I could to assuage her fears and settle her nerves. There was nothing left for me to do… for now.
With a heavy sigh, I stood up and trotted towards the door. On the bright side, at least now I could spend time with my mother.
So much for that.
I set down my fork with a sigh and gave my food an irritable stare… though I suppose that was unfair. After all, it wasn’t my ratatouille’s fault that I couldn’t enjoy dinner with my family.
No, that dubious honor went to the rankling gaggle of servants, accountants, and scribes hovering behind my mother like a swarm of parasprites as she coordinated various logistics over her own untouched plate.
“And ensure that the new foremare is made keenly aware of our overtime pay policies such that everypony gets paid their dues,” she dictated to the scribe, who was frantically scribbling notes. “The last thing we need is a repeat of the strike caused by her dimwitted predecessor—production cannot stall for even a single day.”
“Yes, Madame Sterling!”
Lost in her own world, I disregarded her and instead glanced across the table at my elder sister. A sour expression adorned Quicksilver’s face as she toyed absentmindedly with a piece of diced zucchini speared upon her fork.
Despite our rather lukewarm relationship, I couldn’t help but share a moment of silent solidarity with Quicksilver. After all, we were both particularly miffed at mother’s current state of preoccupation, especially during the last supper we would share on the eve of her departure.
Of course, I said nothing. My sister, however, was far more transparent—she gave a dramatic sigh, accompanied by a roll of her eyes that could have rivaled the Sun’s orbit.
That seemed to catch mother’s attention.
“Oh dear, do forgive me,” she replied with a wave of her hoof across the various scrolls that decorated her end of the table. “There’s simply ever so much left to handle before I take my leave. I’ll be gone for quite some time, after all.”
“That’s the problem,” replied Quicksilver sullenly. “It’ll be two months before we see you again.”
“Honey, I know,” she placated, quickly glancing around. “Let me just— ah, Goldberg! That expenditures report I asked for this afternoon?”
“Just leave mother be for now,” I muttered towards my sister as mother was once again absorbed into her logistics. “She has enough on her plate already.”
“She hasn’t even touched her plate,” my sister grunted in reply.
“Business is as business will be,” I said with a sigh.
“Easy for the heir to say,” she hissed indignantly. “You must be gobbling all this business up.”
“Don’t be absurd, Quicksilver. I want to enjoy dinner with mother just as much as you do.”
“You seem to be enjoying it just fine.”
No, sister, I was just very good at making it seem like I enjoyed it.
Not that I would ever say that out loud, of course. It was my discretion that made me the favored heir, after all.
“I am merely patient, is all,” I replied simply, having grown far too used to deflecting my sister’s jealousy to care.
“Hmph.” Apparently said jealousy was not enough to stir her further, and she returned to her meal.
As we polished off the remainder of our food, the number of ponies behind my mother began to dwindle, until eventually our Head Servant was all that remained.
“…is packed away and ready for the carriage,” said Mirror Sheen with a curt nod, his composed demeanor a far cry from the din of those who had come before. “All that remains is to await your escort.”
“Excellent,” replied mother cordially. "Thank you."
With that, Mirror Sheen politely bowed and stepped away to finish the remainder of the preparations, and mother sat back with a relaxed sigh.
"All is well?" I asked.
"As well as it can be," she breathed with a sigh. “As wonderful as it is to get these sudden opportunities, it certainly isn’t easy to take advantage of them.”
“This one seems to have come out of nowhere.”
“Indeed,” she said with a nod. “Apparently, several arms and armaments suppliers across the country have renewed their production contracts with the Equestrian Defense Forces.”
“So demand for metal is rising?”
“By staggering amounts,” she confirmed with a nod. “Over sixty-four hundred percent.”
…Impossible. “That much? How large is the order?”
“I’m not completely certain, since the manufacturers aren’t revealing the particulars about their contracts with the EDF,” she admitted, “but based on the tonnage requests of Aegis Tactical, I’m estimating an order large enough to make over fifty thousand sets.”
“That’s… that’s insane,” muttered Quicksilver.
“And even that figure isn’t accurate,” continued mother. “Mere hours before the sudden spike in demand, Aegis announced a new range of body shields, which they claimed could be made with just under half as many resources as their standard-issue plate-and-chain.”
“So we could be looking at even more than fifty thousand?” I asked.
“Perhaps even past a hundred thousand.”
Stars above. A swath of contract renewals, a spike in metal demand, a new range of economical armor…
The conclusion was obvious.
“Negotiations with the gryphons aren’t going very well,” I said gravely, “are they.”
“To say the least,” my mother replied, heaving a large sigh. “And I expect we’ll be seeing a huge recruitment spree across Equestria in the next few months.”
An image of the bedraggled but smiling Archmage came unbidden to my mind, and I distantly wondered where she was and how she was doing.
“Where will you be going?” asked Quicksilver, her tone laced with concern. “Not closer to Gryphos, I hope?”
“Hoofington,” mother replied tersely, “so yes, right up against the border.”
Quicksilver paled, and I felt a chill run down my spine. “Why so close to the front?”
“You’ve heard of the surge of immigrants coming in from Dimondia to Hoofington?”
Ah. “So, a swath of cheap canine labor is flooding Hoofington, and you’re looking to employ.”
“Essentially, yes. That, and they work very fast.”
She was certainly taking a great many risks to capitalize on this opportunity.
“…That logic is sound,” I admitted with a nod… though it did not quell my uneasiness. “With that many opportunities coalescing at once, it would be silly not to cash in.”
“Yes,” quipped Quicksilver sarcastically, “almost as silly as relocating nearer to the border of a hostile nation.”
I felt myself wince—not from the bluntness of her statement, but the silent agreement I felt in my heart.
“Oh, honey,” my mother placated, giving my sister a weak smile, “it won’t be so bad—“
“You said it yourself, mother!” she shouted, suddenly rising from her chair. “Negotiations are failing! We’re on the brink of war! And you think now, of all times, is a good opportunity to expand operations near Gryphos?!”
“Quicksie, dear, I know, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportuni—!“
“So you’re gonna go get yourself killed for a bit of money?!” she retorted in fury. “Look around you! We have enough! We don’t need to lose our lives over more!”
“Enough, Quicksilver!” I declared, slamming a hoof on the table. “We have our nation’s top diplomats looking to settle our differences between ourselves and the gryphons, and even if things get bad, mother will have plenty of time to retreat from Hoofington if the situation escalates—“
“Why am I not surprised you’re completely in favor of this?!” she snapped, whirling on me with an angry glare. “In fact, why don’t you just go with her! It’s obvious what the ponies in this family care more about!”
“What is that supposed to mean?!” I shouted back at her. “I’m just as concerned for mother’s safety as you—“
“You’re not convincing anypony, heir.”
Oh Stars no, she did not just go there.
“Quicksilver,” I warned, “don’t you even dare imply that—“
“Fine, I WON’T!” she roared, knocking back her chair. “It’s obvious my opinion means nothing! See if I care if you go and get yourselves killed!”
Without another word, she whirled around and stormed out of sight. We could hear her booming hoofsteps on the floor above, shortly followed by the loud SLAM! of her bedroom door.
As an uncomfortable silence befell the dining hall, I slowly turned to my mother, who was staring at my sister’s vacant seat, her body quivering. Quickly, I made my way around the dining table and put a comforting hoof on her shoulder. “Pay Quicksilver no mind, mother. She’s just scared for you, that’s all.”
“…So am I,” she whispered.
That… was not a response I expected. “If you’re scared, then do you truly have to go?”
“I… of course I do,” she said with a sniffle. “I just wish your sister would understand…”
“She’s just letting her fear get to her,” I assured her, even if my own mind was uncertain. “I’m sure the war won’t happen.”
Mother fixed me with a grave stare. “Silver, don’t be naïve. Both of us know that the possibility of war is very real.”
“Then perhaps it’s unwise to depart for Hoofington,” I remarked. “Quicksilver is right. Your well-being isn’t worth whatever money we could make.”
She sighed. “Silver... this isn’t about money.”
“Then what is it about?”
“Duty,” she declared with finality.
Duty? “To whom? Equestria?”
“To you and your sister.”
To us? “I… don’t understand.” Was this about money, still? We were perfectly well-off.
“Silver, look at it this way,” she said, putting her hooves on my shoulders. “If the gryphons attack, who will stand between them and the two most important ponies in my life?”
The answers began work themselves out in my mind. “…The Equestrian army.”
“Right. And what do they need to help defend you?”
“Weapons and armor,” I answered, already knowing where this was going.
“Exactly. We supply the lion’s share of the materials needed to produce said armaments, and the Dimondian immigrants in Hoofington are the best prospectors and miners in the land—securing their labor will be a huge force multiplier to our output.”
“I… suppose I can understand that,” I said with a nod. “But if money isn’t a concern, then why does it have to be us? Why not leave it to another company?”
“Oh Silver, you and I know the answer to that already,” she said with a haughty smirk. “Perhaps this comes from a place of pride, but by my evaluation, we’re the only mining company that has the infrastructure and resources to accommodate such a huge influx of workers with minimal overhead. It has to be us, and nopony else.”
She was right. Not only was the Silversmith Mining Company the fastest-growing organization of its kind, it maintained said momentum by being an exemplar of corporate efficiency, a well-oiled machine designed from the ground up to easily expand operations at a moment’s notice. No doubt that, were any other company to try their hand at such a massive undertaking, their output would be hamstrung by organizational inefficiencies, or they would run out of capital and simply collapse under the weight.
Though it did little to ease my worries, it all made sense. Mother was simply looking out for us in the best way she could.
“…Okay,” I said finally. “I understand.”
“Thank you, Silver.” She wrapped her arms around me. “I knew you would… my dear daughter…”
It mattered not how logical her reasoning was, or that I was perfectly capable of caring for myself; I still didn’t want her to go. I curled my face against the warmth of my mother’s coat, felt the beating of her heart, the gentle rhythms of her breathing, as I shared what would be the last moment I’d have with her for a long time.
“Madame Sterling?” came a voice from the doorway; we both looked up and met eyes with Mirror Sheen, who remained carefully neutral. “The escort has arrived, and your carriage is prepared to depart. It leaves at your convenience…” He nodded towards me. “…and that of the young Miss.”
“Thank you, Sheen. I will be but a moment.”
She turned back to me, smiling sadly as she stroked a piece of mane from my face with a hoof.
“Oh, don’t be dramatic, mother,” I chided with a soft giggle—partially to stave off the ache in my own heart.
“Sorry,” she said, chuckling lightly herself.
Another sigh, another few moments, and she finally broke contact.
“Well, I suppose I shan’t tarry if I want to make it to Hoofington in a timely manner.” We trotted towards the front door, held open by Mirror Sheen.
She paused as she stepped over the threshold, her gaze drifting to the ceiling—no doubt towards where the brooding Quicksilver lay just beyond. “I don’t want to just leave her, with things like this…”
“She’ll come around,” I said, giving her a gentle nudge. “I’ll try to talk to Quicksilver. Don’t worry about her.”
“Thank you, Silver Spoon.” We trotted outside—Luna’s night had fallen across the land, the sky a cascade of glittering lights—and made our way towards the carriage waiting just outside the door. “I swear, that girl makes me wonder who the older sister really is, sometimes.”
“We both have our moments,” I said with a shrug. “The important thing is that we’ll come together when it counts.”
“And I’m glad that you two can look after each other while I’m gone.”
“Always.” I stepped back as she boarded the carriage. “Safe journeys, mother.”
“Goodbye, Silver Spoon.” She spared one last smile towards me before the door shut. With that, the carriage departed down the street and out of sight, the echo of its wheels clattering upon the cobblestone growing fainter and fainter until it too was drowned out by the ambience of the Ponyvillean night.
I turned back to the house, where Mirror Sheen was standing beside the front door, patiently holding it open for me.
Beyond the threshold was pitch-black emptiness, and somewhere beyond that blackness was my sister.
With a sigh, I trotted up. But as I crossed the threshold, I turned to look at Sheen.
“I’m glad you’re still here, at least.”
“Always ready to serve, Lady Silver,” he replied, cordial and professional as ever.
At least the inside was noticeably brighter than it looked from the yard.
My hoof hovered over the door to Quicksilver's room, which had thus far lain silent.
Perhaps now was not the right time. No doubt my sister was still rather raw -- mother had only just departed an hour ago, after all.
Still... I wanted to talk it over with her. I honestly couldn't stand the thought of her brooding, especially not if mother was simply trying to look after us in the only way she knew how.
...That, and I didn't want to have to deal with a hellion for the remainder of mother's absence. Better I defuse the situation now before she could have a chance to stew in her anger any longer.
Hesitantly, I tapped twice on the door.
"Quicksilver?"
No response.
“Quicksilver, are you awake?"
"Piss off, Spoon."
...Well then.
"Your attitude is entirely unnecessary, sister. I merely wish to speak with you."
"And I don't want a damn thing to do with you right now."
"Well, we're going to be stuck with nothing but each other for an entire weekend," I reasoned, "so perhaps it'd be best if--"
WHAM.
The door flew open, revealing the furious visage of my sister -- her mane was in total disarray, and her eyes were ringed with dried tears.
"You wanna know what I think would be best?" she growled.
I huffed. "Well, I doubt I'm going to hear a reasonable suggestion with that sort of tone--"
"You should have just gone and gotten yourself killed with mother."
I flinched, but quickly regained my composure. "Quicksilver, I'm just as worried as you are for mother's safety. but you know just as well as I do that she is in practically no danger."
"No danger? No danger?! She's going to Hoofington! That's, like, ten meters away from the damn border! The gryphons are close enough that they could probably level the city in seconds--"
"They could level half our nation in seconds if they wanted to, no matter where we were. It's not like they just roll their missiles over the border. She's no safer here than she would be in Hoofington."
"That's chickenshit and you know it, Spoon."
"Why in Sun's name would I have any reason to lie about mother's prospects--"
"Do you think I'm stupid? It's obvious you just want her to get herself killed so you can inherit the family estate."
...
"You know," I muttered darkly, "when you had spoken earlier at dinner tonight, I was a bit hesitant to believe the implication behind your words. I thought that even you couldn't reach such a ridiculous conclusion."
"Hah! You call it ridiculous, yet here we are!" She extended her forelegs in mock grandeur. "Silver Spoon, poised to inherit the Silver Mining Company at any cost!"
"That is utterly ridiculous and you know it! I make no lie about hoping to succeed mother, but I would never wish ill on her to achieve that end!"
"Of course you would! You're just a greedy little shit who cares for nothing except how much money she can get her grubby hooves on!"
"And you're just jealous that you can't be the heir! Perhaps if you were as responsible as I, mother would have given it to you instead!"
"Hah! Good thing I'm not as selfish and egotistical as you, otherwise I might actually give a damn!"
"It's hard to imagine a vindictive little hellion like you giving a damn about anything worthwhile to begin with!"
"At least I give a damn about mother!"
"So do I!"
"Then you would have stopped her from going!"
"Neither of us could have stopped her from going and you know it!"
"YOU could have, 'cause you're her favorite, but you didn't, 'cause--"
"ENOUGH, Quicksilver!" I slammed a hoof into the doorframe with a loud THUD. "We are arguing in circles! You can levy the same baseless assertions against me ad nauseam for the remainder of eternity, but it changes nothing! Mother is gone, and there's nothing we can do about it! But at least ONE of us here cared enough to try!"
"I tried at dinner!"
"No sister, you shrieked in her face and tried to make me out as a scapegoat! I actually SPOKE with her, gave her a chance to explain herself, and--"
"She explained enough at dinner for me to know that she didn't need to go."
"And I learned otherwise, Quicksilver. She's trying to keep us safe!"
"Safe?! What part of getting herself killed will keep us safe? How stupid do you think I am, to accept such an asinine explanation?!"
"Obviously, the more metal she can sell to the--"
"Sell! SELL! If this is the half-assed 'excuse' that you'll be able to come up with, then I don't want to hear it! Get out of my sight!"
"Quicksilver--"
"OUT! Just GO! GET OUT!
"FINE! Maybe I will! Maybe I'll just take a trip to Manehattan for all you care! Better than dealing with your insufferable attitude for the next two months!"
"Fine!" she shouted. "Good riddance! Maybe I can get some semblance of peace with you gone!"
"Fine!"
"FINE!"
Without a second thought, she whirled around and kicked the door, slamming it shut in my--
OW!
"Quicksilver, you hit my nose!"
"FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC!"
Rubbing my smarting muzzle, I stomped towards my room, wondering to myself why I had even bothered to try with that infuriating girl.
"Lady Silver?"
I stopped and turned to face the head servant, who stood on the staircase. With a deep breath, I steadied my tone.
"I'm assuming you overheard that."
"I'd wager most of the district did."
Hah. Impossible. Our land was too wide for our voices to carry to another household.
"Well, do give the rest of the staff my apologies. I certainly hadn't intended to expose them to... well... whatever that was."
"I belief a 'tiff' would be an accurate description," he suggested.
"A tiff it is, then."
"Very good, Lady Silver." He gave a curt bow, and we resumed the walk to my room. "Shall I make arrangements for a trip to Manehattan?"
What? "No! No, that's quite alright, Sheen. That was just a... well, 'joke' doesn't seem to be quite the right word..."
"Perhaps 'bluff'?" he supplied.
"Something to that effect, I suppose."
I stared out a nearby window. The courtyard lay bare, as did the streets beyond -- a gentle downpour had begun in the last few minutes or so, coating the roads with a shimmer that reflected the light of the gas lamps in the street.
"If you may permit my curiosity...?"
"Go ahead."
"Any reason why Manehattan? You've never expressed interest in the city before, and the company doesn't have any branches in that part of Equestria."
I supposed that there was no real reason to hide the truth.
"I was invited," I explained, resuming my walk. "A... friend of mine is holding a social get-together, of sorts."
"And are you considering attending?"
"Stars, no. It's a rather brutish affair."
"Ah. A shame," said Mirror Sheen. "I imagine a trip to Manehattan would certainly be a welcome respite from what appears to have been a rather tumultuous week for you."
"Indeed it would be..." I replied absentmindedly.
"And that, as Lady Quicksilver bears no ill will towards me -- for the moment -- I would be more than equipped to keep her company over the weekend."
I turned to him, brow quirked. "Sheen, are you trying to get me to take this trip?"
He gave a knowing smile and a curt nod. "Certainly, Lady Silver. I feel it would be most beneficial to your emotional well-being, as well as that of Lady Quicksilver."
Hm. He had a point. Quicksilver was, for the time being, volatile -- some distance could do us good. And I had to admit that I could use some space from Ponyville, the Crusaders, and everything else that had transpired over the last several days.
Of course, attending the event would essentially mean revealing myself to Sweetie Belle.
...But then again, I didn't NEED to attend the event. Perhaps I could simply take a trip to Manehattan, trot around the city, see the sights. After all, I had never traveled alone before, and now that I was of age, it was well within my ability to do so. The opportunity was ripe.
Perhaps I could even take Diamond Tiara.
With a smile, I turned to the head servant. His eyes widened slightly, but not enough to break his calm demeanor — though I did notice the corner of his mouth curl upwards ever-so-slightly.
I grinned in response.
"Sheen… I believe I shall be making this trip after all."
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Hope you guys don't mind a Silver Spoon chapter. Last one was a Sweetie Belle one, next one is pretty much 100% Sweetie Belle too. Think I might get into a pattern with these...
New insight into the nature of Silver Spoon's mother! Maybe she isn't so bad after all...
I love this story. Never have I been able to like Silver spoon as a character this much.
Yes please thank you more please thanks
honestly I understand that your trying to develop silver spoons character as more then a bully here, but really all that's happening is your making her five times worse. she may not be the bully that diamond is but she has successfully become both the enabler AND the toxic friend.
Good heavens...things certainly seem to be heating up in regards to the negotiations.
Poor Silver.
Also:
Ouch.
6351165 Nope. She's totally a bully. In fact, she's the worst kind of bully.
So this game has something like Ultima Online where the house starts to become decrepit/fall into disrepair if you don't keep up on the house? But with dust and what have you on the game?
Even if it doesn't (and there's no "upkeep" / "maintenance" on weapons / ships / what have you). Dust forming for not using X is still pretty interesting.
_______________________________
Cap. [Organization/Group]
______________________
I thought Dovetail was a pegasus Striker. Nonetheless, interesting chapter, and it only makes me feel more pity that Silver Spoon turned out the way she did. Her mother actually comes across as much a devoted and loving mother. Although her work does seem to have left quite a bit of strain on the family.
Still good chapter, and it's good to see that unlike Diamond Tiara she has a heart. Somewhere. And isn't an utter psychopath unlike her friend.
This story is like a dance it's so beautiful and you just don't want it to end.
Man, diplomacy really is starting to decay. Potentially 100,000 more infantry soldiers, things can go downhill fast if that leaks.
wow, the more i learn about silver, the more and more she is objectively a shit. maybe i'm biased being australian as we despise the upper class/1% but seriously, you are making me hate her guts
Soooo. Silver is going to Manehattan, for no reason at all. No way she's going to visit the gaming event. Nope, not a chance. Absolutely zero probability that she will drop by/stumble into/accidentally show up at the gaming thing and ruin everything in a giant explosion of awkward explanations, weak excuses, shattered friendships, and filly tears. Or everyone could just have a jolly old time. Who knows?
Silver, Diamond is beyond salvation, but YOU still can be saved, just say to Sweetie who you are, already!
i.imgur.com/GizVyc0.png
I've reviewed your story. You can find it here. Welcome to the bin.
Also, why'd you take down all those comments eariler this afternoon? Was it a troll?
So by Sunday you meant Sunday. Huh... Well, I'm glad to see it's up.
Good job as always, Swannie, you never fail to keep things entertaining, even when there's relatively not much going on.
6351228
Oh, hey, I'm in the paste!
6351488
It was a level-headed argumentative debate, and the reason I will now disagree with people in percentages.
ikr
6351453
S I L V E R S P O O N
O B J E C T I V E L Y A S H I T
derpicdn.net/img/view/2014/5/26/637110.png
Ah, an asshole that isn't an idiot. I've always like those characters.
Clear goal? Check.
Generally composed and rational? Check.
Willing to backstab? Check.
I really like Silver Spoon (as a character). I am looking forward to how this develops. Especially since this seems to be where something important will happen.
6351362
It's no place for mercy after all.
6351778 ... is that arin from gamegrumps?
6351234
The worst kind of bully yes, the one who will destroy your life rather than strike your person.
Dredgen Yor, anyone?
6351906 you have described a psychopath, you like psychopaths, well done *sonic thumbs up*
6352203
Sort of. A psychopath is incapable of making lasting social connections, and therefore doesn't experience love and similar stuff.
What I like is a character that does not let emotions control or decide his actions. Meaning, willing to backstab those they do not care about that much, and not letting petty things like honor or pride get in the way. Reason over emotions, when making decisions, with emotions merely being the motivation.
By the Traveler this is a frankly majestic wedding cake of drama (both literary and contemporary uses apply) you've been assembling. The two main characters make good counterparts, one a hotheaded leader with otherwise sound judgement in need of moderation, the other a conniving architect whose machinations often work against her own emotional needs. I hope they do at least, still on the fence with that filly. The segue into the split narrative perspective was both a great twist and a welcome look into the larger situation. I've been enjoying how the shifts back and forth help develop the narrative, providing answers and more questions in turn. As the tension mounts between the main cast, it also mounts between neighboring nations, and to be candid I have no idea what will result when the figurative (slight chance of literal) Nova Bomb hits and that is wonderful.
6352370
True, true, she does spend enough time in the Crucible with a 0.4 or higher KDR.
Filthy Rich's tragic flaw is that he loves his daughter.
6352494
Then again, she's been introduced to the idea of bounties and may have been working on it in her spare time.
Shadow: "Just wondering, who's Xyor the Unwed?"
Regal Six:
6352242 jesus that is fucking creepy, am I the only one creeped out?
6351488
6352183 Yup. He showed up at EQLA in 2012 to troll HotDiggityDemon's panel. It was fun times.
6352793
Creepy? Maybe. Think of it as perfect self control.
6352494 6352531 There's a line of dialogue in the flashback of Chapter 10 that hints at Silver Spoon's future weapon of choice.
Also worth noting: while Eternity is inspired by Destiny, its gameplay isn't a carbon copy clone -- it'd be more comparable to Fallout, with Destiny's setting and combat mechanics, and the progression model of a sandbox MMO. There's a bigger focus on pure exploration and discovery than questing and bounties, and you've got skills like lockpicking, hacking, and archaeology.
I also imagine that the bosses have fixed loot tables in this game, so not only do they pretty much always drop gear, they drop specific gear.
Best. Story. Ever. I wish I could read the rest of it right now :P
6353322
If that's the direction it's going my guess would be Patience & Time.
6353281
So it's more what I expected and wanted when I first heard about the game last year?
It would certainly be interesting to see if Silver can find a way to attend without revealing her identity. Some sort of cosplay with a voice changer, perhaps?
I love this story! It's good to have another chapter for my eyeholes.
6352793
says the guy with a gorilla over Twist's face.
6357535 Pretty realistic. I justify it in-universe as the technology being based on magic (and thus capable of much different experiences than our technology), but it's mainly a literary decision. I don't want to make the game world feel too "game-y", because that's not very fun to read and would alienate readers who don't play games.
Basically, if you've ever seen Video Game High School, you'll get the idea.
Wow... this just got real.
I love how the war is still happening in the background while all this stuff concerning gaming is in the forefront. By putting the larger issue in the background it sort of creates this feel of "isn't there something else you should be worried about" feel. And you are slowly developing Silver Spoon into a somewhat more likable person, though I still feel she's seeing the world a little too... what's the term... black or white?
Looking forward to the next chapter.
6357977 That's the question though, isn't it? Is the war the bigger problem? Or is it just there, thrumming in the background and influencing minds and decisions, without actually needing to be an immediate threat?
The 9/11 attacks and the ensuing "War on Terror" had a huge impact on how the American people viewed violence. And violence, at the turn of the millennium, was one of the most highly-criticized aspects of video games.
Alternatively, you could go to Iraq, Crimea, or any nation impacted by the Arab Spring, and find thousands of people using said video games as an escape, despite the fact that death and violence had become (and still remains, in some places) a nearly routine aspect of life.
How did a culture wary of violence and war impact the culture of video games? It's an interesting question to look back on, especially as American involvement in the Middle East is lessened, developed Arab nations recover from the Spring, and much of the greater world enters an era where video games are now embraced as an essential branch of modern entertainment.
And, with characters like Freya, who's gaming with friends on the other side of a DMZ, and Zaid, who lives in a Middle Eastern nation undergoing great social upheaval, it's most certainly a question I will be exploring.
Hold on... am I... nooo, I can't have hit the update wall already. Now I have to wait for the now imminent reveal to Sweetie who Silver is and all the fallout associated with that!
I don't mind a Silver Spoon chapter. In fact, I love your Silver Spoon. If you want to make the whole story Silver Spoon centered I wouldn't blame you, I would actually support it.
Ahh. These are worth waiting for.
Silver Spoon stories usually bug me, especially the redemption ones. (Which is all of them.) Some of them can be quite poetic, and I've even dabbled in the concept myself, but they always fall short because any act of redemption is so much more complicated than it's made out to be. You don't just break up with someone like Diamond Tiara and walk away scott-free. You don't just humbly go to the people you've tormented and get accepted with open arms. You don't just suddenly admit to yourself that your actions towards others have made you an objectively bad person. And you definitely do not do all three of these things over the course of one life-changing experience, with several aspects dropped altogether for convenience. It's weird how a work of self-discovery and repentance can actually become kind of insulting. If rehabilitation was that easy... and so on.
This story, bless it, is actually taking its freaking time with this and painting Silver Spoon with multiple brushes, which I appreciate beyond words. I can sort of see the scope of where this is going (Spoony getting revealed is practically the only certainty at this point) but beyond that? If Silver Spoon were directing this, I imagine she'd embrace the change of heart and come through for Sweetie Belle at a crucial moment, angling for a "The person I thought was a bully was actually my best friend all along!" reveal rather than vice versa. She's certainly charismatic and yes, even caring enough that from her point of view, and based on her actions in this chapter alone, that it would seem like a natural progression for her. It's one thing for a character to casually sweep their own transgressions under the rug, and another level altogether when she's so smooth that even the reader is inclined to agree. Reading this, it's very easy to hope for a happy ending and to forget about the other side of her. (The part where she assures Sweetie Belle that she's not a predator out to sexually assault her certainly rings sourly, doesn't it?)
(On a tangential note, and since my editing instincts won't allow me to let this go, I'll also add that Silver Spoon's habit of addressing people in her internal dialogue can create some awkward apparent POV shifts and make it unclear as to whether she's thinking something or saying it aloud, especially during her conversation with Sweetie Belle, in which several sets of quotation marks appear to be missing. But I digress.)
No, it's not going to be that simple. There's too much history between these two, and when the big moment comes I fully expect that it will be just as messy as I'm hoping. In fact, thinking about it, the emergence of two influential powers, both with the ability to destroy the other, gradually building up tension towards a preventable-but-inevitable conflict that will spell destruction for both is a subtly brilliant mirroring of the cold war that's rising to an ignition point around them. I am legitimately impressed. (Translation: "Dammit, why didn't I think of that!?")
Yes, a lot to talk about. I find myself yearning for more Diamond Tiara, and then catching myself and frantically un-yearning as much as possible. When you've got someone this clever, this composed, and this calculating, that speaks an equal number of volumes about the kind of person they allow themself to play second fiddle to.
Also, this game sounds awesome. That is important. I tried to read a sci-fi novel last month about an MMO written by someone who clearly had no concept of good game design. Do you know how frustrating that is? It is very frustrating.
And so the fic delves ever deeper into social conundrum. On the one hand, that is the name of the game, if you will, but on the other, there remains a lot of build up across the board which feels like it might be left by the wayside as the story develops further. I'm concerned that there will be so many problems to be solved that none of them are.
Silver Spoon's character seems promising, but now we have a secondary plot about war. I fear that the Silver/Sweetie relationship might be resolved poorly, like the Diamond Tiara/Sweetie incident. I want to be optimistic, but I just hope that this fic is heading towards eventual resolution. Considering the lack of a tragedy tag, I'll hold out hope. (but then, the only tag is is slice of life, and it seems like it could use at least a sad tag, possibly dark if war starts up)
6361896 I can assure you that most of the problems are interrelated -- there are invisible strings binding most of the plot points and drawing them slowly together. From a writing standpoint, it'll be pretty much impossible to resolve one problem without spending time developing the others.
For example, the Diamond/Sweetie plotline is nowhere near finished. We still have whatever plans that Proper Place is concocting with Noteworthy; we've only barely touched on Diamond's home life; and Silver will need to deal with Sweetie Belle somehow. All of these will influence the dynamic between Silver, Sweetie, and Diamond, and drive their arcs towards their resolution.
Hopefully that's enough to prove that I won't be leaving any major conflicts by the wayside.
That being said, people expecting a war story will probably be disappointed. This is a slice-of-life fic, and the Cold War primarily exists to provide atmosphere, influence events, and drive certain character decisions. An earlier comment of mine explains the intended narrative role of the war (6358228). It's possible that it may not even be resolved by the end of the story.
I should note that there was a Sad tag at one point, but I later removed it.
6362583
Alright, color me convinced. Thanks for allaying my fears. There's a lot of great development in this story, and it seems like you have every intention of making the most of it. I'm glad that you aren't going to delve too deeply into war, if only because that would seem to negate the more insidious threats of social expectation.
Regardless of just about everything, I just want to know who Stranger is. The fact that she used the phrase "my little ponies", has the gag order, and that she usually has to stop playing at nightfall points to Princess Luna. That seems like it's too simple, but it also fits pretty well, and would fit right into the Gamer Luna fanon.