Thunder cracked and rolled as a lone storm cloud hung in the sky over Canterlot.
On the streets below, Twilight Sparkle was trotting with a purpose down a long empty road towards the center of the city. Or maybe there were ponies going about their business, she didn’t notice. She wasn’t looking. Passing swiftly between the tall buildings, she turned down a side path that led her up to Canterlot’s main palace by a less direct route that few ever used. She wanted as few formality interferences as possible.
Standing at his post at the palace’s side entrance, a gray unicorn guard looked up to see her approaching. He recognized her, and was about to unhook the rope bar and move it aside for her when the hook became covered in a purple glow and unhooked and moved itself aside. Twilight walked in past the guard without looking up.
Inside, she walked across the large entrance hall up to the large staircase and took it to the landing before turning up the smaller staircase that led right.
She walked briskly down a long hallway lined with stained glass windows. The rays of light shining through each window cast itself upon her face in turn, each revealing her determined expression and unwavering stare.
She burst through the doors to Princess Celestia’s throne room as another thunderclap echoed from the storm cloud above, finding the Princess sitting at a desk placed in front of her throne, sipping tea from a fine china teacup held with her magic, not in the least bit bothered by Twilight’s sudden entrance.
Twilight strode right across the room and up to the Princess. Celestia gently set her teacup down on a saucer as Twilight began pacing back and forth in front of her desk, ranting about something that seemed to have her quite upset as another clap of thunder came from overhead. While pacing, Twilight used her magic to take out a rolled-up scroll letter with a red band and golden horseshoe seal holding it shut and threw it down onto Celestia’s desk as another thunderclap echoed, and then slammed her hoof angrily onto the desk next to the letter, causing the teacup to jump, breaking the saucer underneath it when it landed to coincide with another echo of thunder from the overactive storm cloud. Twilight turned and stormed out. Celestia only silently stared as her now former student trotted through the door and back down the hall.
As Twilight left through the palace gates, a pony stepped out from the sidelines into her path and stopped, but Twilight paid him no mind and marched around him, turning down the street. The pony stared after her.
As she headed back through the city again, Twilight found herself trotting behind another pony oddly similar to the first, and went into a gallop to pass him. The pony stared after her.
In a room somewhere, a dull white hoof pressed a single key on a typewriter over and over again, typing a line of ‘X’s diagonally across a photo of Twilight.
Twilight continued weaving at full speed through the streets of Canterlot, making her way to a destination she knew well. She was so focused on reaching her destination, even, that she didn’t notice that the pony she’d passed earlier had just made the same last five turns that she had.
The dull white hoof continued typing more ‘X’s, making a second diagonal line across the photo that formed an ‘X’ with the first.
In a white room with endless rows of bookshelves, a pale lavender book floated along sideways through the air, stopping in front of an empty spot in one of the shelves. The blank cover opened, the ‘X’d photo of Twilight and her name appearing on the first page, and more information writing itself into the rest of the book as the cover slammed back shut, an image of her cutie mark flashing onto the front. The book floated forward and slid into the space. Onto the spine of the book appeared the word, written vertically, “BANISHED”. Just like every other book on the shelf.
Twilight
Sparkle
in
Twilight ran across the small bridge over the river, her destination in sight. She ran up the two smaller staircases and landings before reaching the curving staircase that led up the side of the tower where she lived. Not far behind her was the pony she hadn’t noticed following her. She burst through the doors and ran inside, letting them swing shut as the pony behind her began slowly climbing the lower staircases.
Twilight scanned her multi-floored room and the assortment of unusual pieces of equipment it held, then used magic to pull her saddlebag from beside a large bookcase on the other side of the room and throw it down open in front of her.
the Pony
Prisoner
She began pulling together an assortment of items from around her room with magic, folding a few of them together for ease of packing.
The pony she hadn’t noticed was slowly approaching the top of the curved staircase.
Twilight dropped item after item into her saddlebag, when all of a sudden a smoky fume began shooting through the keyhole on her door. She flipped shut the cover of the saddlebag and latched it before breathing in something she knew wasn’t normal air.
Her head jumped up and her eyes looked over towards the giant window that occupied the entire far wall as her vision began to blur. Lightheaded, she swayed from side to side as the tall, elaborate white and gold towers and spires of Canterlot faded in and out, stumbling back before collapsing over onto a conveniently located cushion as everything faded to black…
Twilight slowly pushed her eyelids open, a blurry picture of her room coming back into view. She struggled to her hooves, still swaying a bit, and shakily made her way over to her giant window-for-a-wall. Steadying herself in front of it, she looked out through the wide window. She could only stare. She didn’t know how to react.
Outside her window lay row after row of beige wooden houses, the framing planks still visible on the outside, each with a yellow thatched straw roof. Needless to say, it wasn’t Canterlot.
Up the irons. \m/
I'm going to read this out of pure curiosity: how do you take a song and turn it into a story?
Oh... I so desperately wanted this to be good!
This chapter has one-thousand fifty-five words in it, including the title. A total of zero words were used in dialogue. I'm sure it was descriptive and thematic - a comparison that's even more forced by the awkward cut-in title cards - but I was expecting something a little less...beige.
Sometimes, I feel it's appropriate to describe the voice in my head that reads the story. In my day-to-day life, I often default to a 'Mr. Watson'-esque voice, complete with mildly long sentences and just a dab of Oxford propriety. (A misnomer, considering I don't know what 'propriety' entails. It's probably more along the lines of Herman Melville's 'bumpkin dandy'.)
This story, insofar as I've managed, was relayed to me by a rather uninterested college professor, with a droning monotone that was completely void of character or emotion. Try imagining the least engaging person you can conceive, then have them speak in the most bland of descriptive sentences.
It's a shame, too. I don't know many Maiden fans that also enjoy ponies. I know of only one other metal fan on-site, through a story that's fallen out of popular recollection years ago.
My advice: don't write about the character's experiences. It's easiest to step into one character's shoes. Experience his or her adventure the way you want others to experience it! Feel the ground tremble with each thunderclap; spy the glinting minarets of Canterlot Castle, and perhaps remark on how it always seems a few shades brighter than the rest of the city.
Also, dialogue. I've never read a story whose cast consisted exclusively of mimes (now that I'm thinking about it, the idea is a novel one). Don't be afraid to use it as plot propellant.
Also, pro-tip; don't write while listening to music. I don't know if you did so here, but I have never had good results. Then again, it could just be me. Try it both ways, stick with what works better.
Overall, it's not a story I'd recommend. The reference is only click-bait at this point. The wording and sentence structure leave much to be desired, and it's as engaging as a sock-puppet. There's potential, sure, but every story has potential.
6243021 Then it's a good thing that this is only the introduction. I'd hope the Iron Maiden thing is just a running joke, because this is about the '60s show "The Prisoner" about a spy sent to a utopian village that's trying to pick his mind for secret information. This chapter (and its style) is only meant to parallel the opening credits scene, it'll be an actual story from here on out. The rotation's taken a while to get back to it, but it's currently priority #2 on my collection of "spinning plates", as you would say.
6243286 Oh. Sorry, I genuinely thought this had something to do with Iron Maiden.
Even so, that doesn't really address my main criticism. It also adds a new concern: why in God's name did you think to put the opening credits scene into words? Did the introduction add anything to your enjoyment of the show? If not, then why put it here, and why start with it?
6244448
Actually, yes. For "The Prisoner", the intro credit scene actually was the opening of the first episode that introduced the story, continuing unbroken into the episode itself. Each following episode had a slightly shortened version that was followed by a speech between the main character and the "new" leader of the Village, featuring a different guest star every episode, before that episode's story began. It's actually a rather famous dialogue, you should look it up.
6244555
I think you missed something.
I'm not going to bother with additional comments, since I'm clearly out of my depth, and I feel that I've worn out my welcome. I would suggest trimming the intro a bit, once you have more content to pad it with. Even should the story appeal mostly to a certain demographic, that's no reason to exclude everyone else.
To give an example: this was my first exposure to "The Prisoner", 80's metal notwithstanding. Even after your generous explanation, and given my ignorance of the show, I'm still left holding three possible hypothesis: (1) It's not something I would be interested in anyway; (2) your writing didn't do the show justice; or (3) the show wasn't good to begin with.
I plan to watch it now, to try and garner some appreciation of this story and to clear up a few sketchy hypothesis, but I don't feel a familiarity with (what is now) an ambiguous show from the 60's should be a requisite to enjoying this piece of fan-fiction.
I know it's non-sequitur, but have you ever heard of Mobile Suit Gundam?
6246292
I know the Gundam franchise is about giant robot suits fighting, but I don't know it beyond that.
6246362
Pretty much, but it's more nuanced. It isn't a 70's, Japanese version of Transformers: there are people in the robots.
Nice intro. I'd like to read more, to be honest.
Be seeing you!
Well now, Miss Sparkle...Let the games...BEGIN.