The More Things Change
((This chapter is dedicated to my dear friend Scruffy, who has done so much for so many with his big heart of gold.))
*****
"To Stalliongrad!" the little unicorn filly yells happily, flailing her little hooves against the young stallion's mane as she bounces on his back. "Today we're going to Stalliongrad, and we's gonna fight the communist nemenaces!"
"Do you have your sword, Twahly?" the boy asks gravely, as he quickly but precisely sketches out a map of the house leading to "Stalliongrad" in the living room.
She wriggles around and begins pawing through the saddlebag/pouch her babysitter has, as always, tied to him for just this purpose. "Sword check!" she yells, producing a little wooden sword and waving it menacingly.
"And do you have the compass?" he asks, just as seriously.
She rummages further, almost falling headfirst into the bag but finally producing a cheap plastic compass. "Compass check!"
"Good job. Here's the map," he says, and gives it to her. She studies it, frowning, then folds it clumsily, with no regard for his careful art, done only on her behalf, and stuffs it into the saddlebag.
"That way," she says decisively, pointing her sword.
"That way it is, then. Hold on tight!"
*****
It was early in the morning on a Monday, a week since she'd left "the nest" of the castle. Twah stood in front of Twahlaht's Toy Cafe, studying it proudly, as she did every morning before opening. The stoop was swept neatly; the sign hung straight and proud; every window was cleaned to a mirror shine-- as it had to be done anew every day; the nature of her shop meant a lot of smudgy little noses often pressed against the glass to ooh and aah at her window display, which she rearranged daily.
Putting her head together with those of fun-loving Pinkie and practical Twilight had led to the somewhat radical decision to open the Toy Cafe-- the right half of the store was devoted to the sale of her passion, toys, and the left half to her special talent, food. It was a risky idea, but to her great relief, a lot of people, from parents with their children to sweethearts looking for a special gift, seemed to find that her store filled a uniquely useful niche. Buy that train little Billy wants, or a teddy bear for your grandmother, and then sit down to a hearty bowl of chili or gumbo and put your hooves up after a hard day at the market. She didn't yet have so much business that she was looking to hire anyone or anything, but at this rate she would be able to easily pay back Luna's loan within a couple of years. And she owed it all to her friends-- who, sadly, had finally had to return to their lives back in Ponyville, while Twah had chosen, with regret, to stay in Canterlot.
After her eyes had taken in every inch of her shiny little storefront, she smiled with deep satisfaction and went inside to put on her apron and get ready to open.
*****
"Oh, no!" cries little Twahly as she flies through the air; her mount has tripped over a badly placed stuffed bear and fallen to his knees with a pained "oof!" The little filly hits the ground and bounces, but recovers instantly at the thought that her dearest friend might be hurt.
She trots over and starts patting his cheeks anxiously. "Is you okay? Is you okay?"
He smiles and kisses the top of her head. "Nothing bruised but my ego, Twahly. What about you? Did you get hurt?"
"No, Twahly is fine," she says with a great and ridiculous dignity. She picks up her dropped sword and starts hitting the bear with it, looking stern. "This dumbsy bear is gonna get defeated and brought back to Stalliongrad where stupid Ursas belong."
"I wonder who would have left that poor bear here in the middle of the hallway where anyone could trip over it?" the boy wonders aloud, studying the ceiling with great casualness.
"Someone very irres-- irrepsp-- someone who doesn't take very good care of their things," the young girl replies, stuffing the offending creature headfirst into the pouch and clambering back up to her spot. "But I don't know who, and she will never, never do it again as long as she lives anyways, so let's not worry about it and go go go!" And, unlike most promises made by children-- so quickly made and forgotten-- this is a promise she will keep for the rest of her life.
*****
The day had been remarkably busy, especially considering it was Monday. Her register was stuffed full of bits, and her magic was drained enough that she was considering closing up early, lest the dinner rush lay her low. She had never imagined she would ever have so many people clamoring for the fruits of her labors-- easily a fifth of her display stock of toys was sold, and she hadn't had an empty table for three straight hours during the worst-- best?-- part of the shift.
Now, however, business had dropped off with the remarkable speed it sometimes does in a popular but new shop, and, since things had been completely dead for the past ten minutes, Twah sat down behind the register to bundle the bits to count later. Just as well-- with the way the drawer groaned warningly when she opened it, she was afraid she'd come close to breaking the stupid thing; it certainly couldn't hold any more money. She absently put on some music-- just background noise-- and lost herself in organizing bits and putting them into her lockbox, which she kept under the counter. That practice would have to stop, too, she thought; anything could happen when her back was turned on a day as hectic as today.
Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't the faintest idea how much time had passed when she heard the tinkle of the bell over the door. She quickly closed her lockbox, and turned with a smile to greet her customer.
"Hi there, how can I--" The words stuck in her throat as her eyes met those of a handsome little purple earth pony. The lockbox dropped, unheeded, from nerveless hooves and her mouth worked fruitlessly for a long moment before she burst out with, "Scruffy?!"
*****
They come to a screeching halt in the living room. "Here we are!" the boy says cheerfully. "Stalliongrad!"
But the little unicorn has gone uncharacteristically quiet and thoughtful on his back. "Scruffy?" she asks in a soft, troubled tone.
"Yes, Twahly?" he asks just as softly, turning his head to smile gently at her.
But she does not have a smile to return to him; her face is filled with all the worries and concerns a small person can possibly hold.
"Scruffy, my mom says we have to move away to Canterlot. I told her I don't wanna but she says I don't get to decide."
He nods gravely as he listens. "I know, Twahly. She told me earlier." He looks away for a moment in order to keep his composure.
"Scruffy, will you come with us? Mom says you can't but you can if you want to, can't you? I can't make choices because I'm just a little Sporkle, but you're a big pony and you can make choices, right?" She clings to his mane, her fate, as she sees it, in his hooves.
"Oh Twahly," he sighs, and turns to nuzzle her fat little flank. "I wish I could. I know you think I'm a big pony, but compared to grownups I'm just a scruffy little pony myself. I get to make some choices, but my mom and dad would never let me decide to go to Canterlot with you." He manages a warm and encouraging smile. "But you'll have a new babysitter, who will be lots of fun too. You're going to have a great time, and you're going to forget all about Scruffy."
She buries her face in his mane and beats her little hooves gently against his neck. "Never! I'm never, never ever going to ever forget Scruffy, and I will never ever love any other babysitter ever!" And though the look that crosses his face makes it obvious, were anyone to observe it, that he does not believe this, this too is a promise little Twahly will keep for the rest of her life.
*****
The purple stallion blinked large green eyes at her, looking startled. "Y-yes? Have we met? I mean, I'm sure I would have remembered." He laughed awkwardly and nervously, cheeks turning red, his face a study in confusion.
"Oh!" Her own face flamed red as she brought her hooves to her mouth in embarrassment. "Oh, of course you-- Oh, I'm so sorry-- but, you're called Scruffy, am I right?"
"Y-yes," he replied with a slightly hunted look on his face. "And you must be Twahlaht...?"
"OH! You do know me?!" She jumped over the counter and threw her arms around his neck, hugging fiercely. "I thought I'd never, ever see you again!!"
"Eheheheh," he laughed, nervous and confused still, but obviously kind of pleased. "Um, not quite. I mean, not really. I mean, your name is on the sign on the shop. I have no idea what's going on right now." He shuffled his hooves awkwardly and patted her back.
Twah stepped back hurriedly. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I'm so embarrassed. You just caught me off guard. You see--" She took a deep breath. "Are you in a very great hurry? I was thinking of closing the shop early, and I have a LOT of stuff I'd like to explain, if you have time..."
*****
Several hours, bowls of pudding and glasses of milk later, they sat across from one another in her little living room, above the shop. He had a very thoughtful look on his face, as he absently rubbed her foreleg with his hoof. They'd grown comfortable with one another very quickly, after he'd listened to her rather bizarre tale and asked some questions. In one of the weird "parallel universe" quirks she was beginning to grow accustomed to, he wasn't ten years older than her, as he had been when she'd known him; rather he was a year or so younger than her, hardly any older than when she had last seen him, in fact. Odd-- but hardly unpleasant, and she found herself growing warm under his touch in a way that was entirely new, but very interesting-- and worth, she thought, further study.
"Would you like to come by again another night?" she asked somewhat shyly. "I close the shop after the dinner rush-- generally around seven-- and, um, I'd really like to get to know you better..."
He smiled into her eyes with the warm regard she remembered so well, blushed a little, and said, "I'd really like that too, Twah."
*****
It's now bedtime, and the little filly has cried herself exhausted. Scruffy has tucked her into bed, and she clings to his side while he strokes her mane.
"You're going to be okay, Twahly," he murmurs, looking fondly down at the little blue mane.
"I love you, Scruffy," is her sleepy reply as she nuzzles her face into his side. "I love you forever."
And that, too, is a promise she will always keep.
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A short, self-contained chapter for a dear friend. I hope you will enjoy it. Scruffy will probably end up being a recurring character, if he doesn't object.
515479 See? Told you it would be the best week ever.
stellar
Well I felt something was missing from my day. Now I know it was this update.
I was feeling pretty crap, now I feel pretty good.
Lonelier, but still better than before.
I Love this story
Yes, more Twahlaht Sporkle. That brightens up my day.
I have to say, when I saw the premise of this story, I had my doubts, but as with so many things that come to our attention, it's a matter of execution.
And you have executed marvelously.
This story, and this chapter in particular, are oddly endearing, with just enough wackiness and believability and poignancy that this fic has quickly risen to the top of the list of stories I hope will continue to update, that I hope the author—that you—will see through to the end as we follow Twahlaht on her journey. I especially liked how you dealt with the boring mainstays of AU fics—the confusion, the doppelganger effect, the angst, all that—succinctly and deftly.
Maybe it's just that I have Prachett on the brain recently, but as I finished what you've got published—and this chapter in particular—I'm feeling echoes of that special blend of storytelling that makes his tales so engaging, and which really has me smiling. I think the present tense flashbacks are an exquisite touch in particular, as are the shifts into third person omni for them.
The last comment here was 15 weeks ago, and so I know that the chances of this being updated are rather slim, but I'll hold out hope that you'll get the attention this story deserves, as I'd love to see where it goes.
Pretty good story.
You mentioned previously that you had plans for a few more chapters, I know it could be left right here and that it's been quite some time since you updated it, but I'd really enjoy seeing more of Twahlaht Sporkle in the future.
I want to thank DPV111 for notifying me about this amazing story. It's a little random but it´s works. The characters are believable (as far as magical pony are believable) and I can't wait for the next chapter! I hope you will reach the feature box!
Interesting 'twist' on using a ridiculous/comedic premise and handing it in a way that's 'serious'. I use quotes because those aren't quite the right words, but are pretty close.
This last chapter was fun. It's good to see Sporkle adapting. I do hope she does eventually make it home, if she still wants to, but it's great that she isn't still chasing that so hard she's missing life. I kinda want her to talk with Pinkie more, simply because I loved those two. I guess you're not likely to write more, given teh amount of time that's past, but if you do, I'd love to read it.
DPV sent me, sorry about taking so long to get around to reading it. Definitely fav'd, watched, and hoping for your return.
I like it.
Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.
This was arbitrarily placed on top of my read later list. I didn't remember why I had it there, and I apparently zoomed past the tags in my haste to get to chapter 1. When I read the first bits, I fully expected a fast-paced comedy, and that was okay; just what I was in the mood for.
Now, my gut hurts. I did not expect this, and I love you just a little bit. Sure, I think the story was a little rushed in the sense that I wouldn't mind having the exact same points and scenes played out at half speed - you raise some very nice issues here. But all in all? Hm. I've never been one for flash fics, I find the idea of trying to generate disproportional effect like that silly, but this here little nibble of a fic? Yes, yes and yes. Different in just enough ways, but still easy to connect with.
I'd recommend this any day of the week. Is there a reason for it being incomplete? It would very much work just like this, and the only thing that causes me distress now is the actual incomplete tag, not the way it ended.
My goodness. O.O I haven't checked back before today because I am ashamed of how long it has taken me to update. I had no idea i'd been featured on anything or gained new readers, and i'm insanely flattered at being compared to Pratchett.
Yes, folks, I DO plan on updating-- within the next week in fact. The very long wait is because I was waiting for Scruffy to draw my villain for me. I'm not so good at conceiving of baddies, but he has quite a fertile imagination
.
I think (I hope!) you'll find the next chapter exciting and fun to read. It'll be the second to last in this fic, and I'll do my best to make it worth your wait.
And now that the reviews have been posted, I'm free to make comment on the story.
This is a sweet lil' thing that I'd love to see continue. Good job creating such a character in Twahlaht; there really is this inexplicable charm about the whole thing.
1632875
Within a week, three weeks ago? Oh dear.
*shrug* Isn't that something we all do, though? I only wrote a half-chapter and promised to have something out within the next few days ... a week ago. Oops.
I have a similar problem with bad guys. Unless the villain is part of the story's conception, I find it hard to create a fitting conflict between hero and villain.
But continue, continue! I really like your style and I want to know what's gonna happen to poor 'ole Miss Sporkle.
I'm not sure what to say. This little story reminds me of one of the reasons why I got into reading fan fiction in the first place. You've somehow told a story unicorn with a spork for a horn, and somehow made her into a relatable character I can sympathise with. In what other type of media would that happen?
1965548
I concur.
Curse you! Alternate universes and doppelgangers are my only two weaknesses out of of several dozen!
I'll be truthful: with the silly name and the nature of our story's protagonist, I was all set to read a subtle comedy. Instead you emphatically play up the differences/similarities of both Twilights and their lives, expose a softer side to Celestia based on deep, personal indulgences (it's so refreshing to see her subtly tossing power around rather than being an out-and-out troll in a fanwork for once
), completely nail how Pinkie Pie can brighten any occasion, and overall paint Twahlaht as a sympathetic character I've now come to love almost as much as my favorite unicorn. (Gosh she's adorable.)
All this with impeccable prose. Well done!
The "latest" chapter... while I appreciate your the gesture of friendship (as I'm sure Rarity would), I'm not sure it had much of a use here as opposed to being a private gift to said friend or a blog post or something. Despite your clearly best intentions, I know it confused me in the wake of the first two chapters. Still, your fic, and all in all, mostly harmless.
In all, highly enjoyable and heartwarming. From the looks of things, you so far seem to be a one-hit wonder--that's a shame. I'd love to see more from you. If you've really got that last chapter on the way, by all means, bring it on!
/poke.
/poke.
...
is you dead?