Out of Sight
Despite the fire of suspicion burning in my veins, it took me a few days to successfully stalk Velvet Step.
The first day, I overslept.
The second day, I lost her after ballet practice.
The third day, I discovered there was a back door to the studio that she left through.
The fourth day, I lost track of time while waiting for her practice to be over when I discovered an antique store selling a typewriter that I had to have. Unfortunately, the bits I had earned from working as a delivery colt one day weren't nearly enough, and the shopkeep insisted that haggling wasn't a thing in Canterlot.
It wasn't until the fifth day that I woke up on time, followed her to the ballet studio, waited patiently for her to finish, and discovered she went straight from the studio to Sunridge Sweets, which gave me the idea to wait there so I wouldn't look so suspicious.
So, when it was nearing the end of my first week of living with Velvet, I walked to Sunridge Sweets with two goals in mind:
One—Find a good reason to stay at Sunridge Sweets long enough to find out where Velvet went after that.
Two—Try to garner additional information from her parents, Sunbeam and Pepper Ridge.
As a bonus, if I helped out some, I would also get to have one or two of their delicious baked goods. It was a win all around.
The happy little bell of Sunridge Sweets chimed to announce my arrival, though the sound was largely washed out by the onslaught of giggling mares. At least, I suppose they would be considered mares, but they looked like fillies to me. Young Academy students filled nearly every seat, and Sunbeam was trotting around with a tray of treats on her back.
She noticed me and flashed a tired smile. "Hello, sugarplum! Velvet's not here right now."
I already knew that, but saying so was what a crazy pony would do. Instead, I feigned, "Oh, that's fine. I just wanted to see if I could help out."
With a grin on her muzzle, Sunbeam didn't even reply. She's never been a mare to waste time beating around the bush. Before I knew it, I was an hour into an unexpected shift, a tray balanced on each wing to bring milkshakes and other sweets to eager ponies.
I won't lie and say that I hated the work. But I didn't particularly enjoy it, either. It did allow me access to the back room where Sunbeam normally worked, however, and I was able to ask her questions between orders.
"How long have you owned this shop?" was my first question. It didn't have anything to do with my investigation directly; I was just curious. It would also start things off simple so I could delve into the more serious stuff later.
"Goodness!" Sunbeam clasped a hoof to her cheek and tilted her head back to look up at the ceiling. "It's been, hmm, it wasn't long after we moved here that we opened up. Velvet was still a filly as cute as a cupcake!"
I tried to imagine a young Velvet. Then I tried to imagine her as cute as a cupcake, and my mind drew a blank. She struck me as more of the type of filly to show a colt she liked him by tugging on his tail or knocking over his sand castle.
"Anyway," she continued, "Pep just got an order for three chocolate mint swirls."
Back to work for me. Which was fine, because I needed a buffer between questions to keep things feeling casual. It wasn't too long before I was in the kitchen with Sunbeam again with enough of a break to ask my second question. It was time to get some answers. "By any chance, do you know a mare named Parasol?"
Sunbeam blinked at me. "Parasol? Hmm, let me think!" She paused to add little pearl-like decorations to a cookie. "Parasol. Well, my mane stylist is Aerosal. And there's a mare I know named Baby Doll. Oh, and one time, Pepper and I took a trip and ended up getting stuck in a snowdrift with a Snowball!"
I hadn't known Sunbeam very long, but I knew her well enough to tell that she was having fun. At least one of us was. I just remained quiet while she continued to tease me along.
"And I think Velvet brought home a Fireball one time when she was going through her little rebellious phase." Finally, her gaze turned to me. "I'm sorry, plumdrop, who were you looking for, again?"
"Parasol," I said, forcing a smile over my gritted teeth.
"Oh, nevermind. Afraid not! Why do you ask?" She smiled, mischief twinkling in her big blue eyes.
All I could do was shake my head, mumble some kind of platitude, and turn my attention back to work. The hours were drifting by and Velvet would be there soon. I had so many questions, but I couldn't ask them all at once. Sunbeam was catching on, I could tell. I probably could get away with one more question before she would confront me about it all.
I settled on: "What about a mare named High Horse?"
Recognition filled her face and her ears perked; apprehension filled my chest and my stomach dropped.
"Horsey! My little cinnamon roll?" Sunbeam clasped her hooves to her cheeks. "She and Velvet were such good friends before she moved to Ponyville! Of course, I think they're still good friends, but, you know, moving changes things." Her hooves lowered some. "How do you know Horsey?"
Great. Such good friends. I had left Parasol at the restaurant owned by the good friend of the mare I'm staying with. It was irrational, it was illogical, and at the time, it made perfect sense to me: this was all some kind of ruse.
"I'm from Ponyville," was all I could say.
"Right! I remember now." Sunbeam smiled as she stared at me, her head tilting to one side. "Silver Script?"
"Huh?" The hairs of my coat stood on end. This was the first time she'd ever said my name. It was always sugarplum, plumberry, plumbleboo—a quick glance down at my purple coat made the repetitive 'plum' suddenly make sense.
"I'd like to ask you a question now, if you don't mind. And I'm sure you don't!" Her forehooves tapped together and angled toward me. The softness in her face and voice were gone, as if all her sugar had been used up. "What are your intentions with my daughter?"
My mouth opened, but she kept talking before I could reply.
"Velvet is not a traditional filly, you know. Pep and I support her, but we worry. We especially worry when she does things like bringing a stranger into her home as a roommate." Her ears flattened against her curly blonde mane. "Somepony fell in love with her once, and it burned the both of them. I don't want to see that happen a second time. You seem like a nice stallion, but it's the part where you're single that worries me. I don't want my baby girl crying again."
And just like that, all of the fire within me was blown out. Velvet, crying? I couldn't imagine it.
"Hey, Mom!" the voice of the very mare called just as she trotted in through the doorway. "I got out of practice ear—Silver? What are you doing here?"
I looked over at her while Sunbeam launched into a sugary sweet greeting as if nothing had happened. Velvet stood there with a half-cocked grin and eyes that seemed to view the world from a distance. There wasn't a part of her that seemed gentle or weak enough to cry.
And perhaps that's exactly why. In the week I'd been stalking her, I didn't see her hang out with other ponies. She went from home, to work, to the bakery. The other ballerinas exited through the front doors, but she left out the back. She didn't talk about friends or about herself; instead, she kept a wall between her and everypony else.
My chest ached when I thought about how lonely that must be, and here I was, suspecting her and following her behind her back.
She held my gaze as I just kept staring, and her nose started to scrunch up. I knew that face—she was about to laugh.
I wished I'd had a good answer. Something altruistic, like that I enjoyed helping her parents out.
"I used to sleep with a plush bear," I blurted out instead. It's a bad habit I'm still trying to break; when I can't think of something smart to say, I just blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.
Velvet paused, then released the laugh I had interrupted. "What?"
Well, there was no way of navigating my way around this awkward conversation I'd just started. I guess my subconscious wasn't feeling good about stalking her and interrogating her mother, because the confessions just started falling out one by one.
"His name was Sir Bearington." I shifted from one hoof to the other, dropping my head low. "Also, as a colt, I was a bully. I don't know why, but I was. I've been called stubborn and impossible to work with. I don't like green beans, but I like peas. I—"
"Okay, okay." Velvet raised a hoof, her laughter replaced by a confused arch of one brow. "Silv, seriously, what's gotten into you?"
I heaved a sigh. I didn't want to say it, but I felt terribly guilty, so I had to. "I've been following you since I moved in."
Her ears shot up. "Huh?"
"Oh!" Sunbeam rose from her seat. "I think I heard somepony calling for me. Be right back!" Hurriedly, she trotted out of the back room, leaving us alone.
Velvet eyed me with what I think was reasonable suspicion. "What do you mean by 'following me'?"
"Exactly that." I dropped my rump to the floor and sat up straight to look her in the eyes. "It sounds preposterous to say aloud, but I thought you were in league with my ex-marefriend to get, I don't know, revenge or some such nonsense on me. So I was following you and asking your mother for information about you."
"In league with your ex?" Velvet slowly sat down as well. "Yeah, that is kind of preposterous. I mean, why would she want to get revenge on you? And how—"
I flinched. "Yes, yes, in hindsight, it wasn't the most well-thought leap of logic. I apologize."
She stared at me for a while before a grin quirked her lips. "So, wait, you told me that stuff about you to try to make us even?"
I could only nod.
"Aww, that's sweet." She scooted closer. "So what did you learn?"
What had I learned?
I stared at her, trying to puzzle through what little information I'd gleaned in the past week. I knew she was serious about her work and her family, and that she often came home very late. I learned that she had been hurt before when somepony fell in love with her. I suspected she was lonely, and perhaps that was why she had me, a stranger, move in with her.
I wasn't associated with either of the things important to her.
I wasn't a one-night stand.
I wasn't anypony important that could make life difficult for her.
I could keep her company, and she could keep me at a comfortable distance.
But I couldn't say any of these things. What I did know, above all else, was that nopony wanted to hear the truth. Years in the film business had taught me that. So, I did the next best thing.
I grinned.
"What?" Her brow raised. "What's that look for?"
"I'm just thinking about what your mother told me," I said as I rose to my hooves and started walking out of the back room.
She scrambled to her own to chase after me. "What did she tell you?" When I didn't respond, she changed direction to trot toward her mother. "Mom! What did you tell him?!"
Sunbeam looked across the bakery at me with a quizzical frown. I returned it with a grin, and that was all she needed to catch on as her frown curled upward. "Oh, sweetie, you know. This and that."
"This and that! This and what?" Velvet looked between us. "What and what!"
"Bye, Sunbeam, Pepper!" I called over my shoulder as I headed outside, chuckling at the sound of Velvet's confusion filling the air behind me. Sunbeam would surely have a lot of fun with what I gave her.
The day was drawing to a close, and my evening was free now that I wasn't wasting my time following Velvet around. I was still waiting on a reply to a letter I sent my employer in the hopes that there was new work to be done. The few bits Sunbeam and Pepper gave me for helping out weren't going to get me what I needed.
I made my way through the city to what I could only assume was an older part of Canterlot. The shops that lined the streets were aged but well-loved. I felt more comfortable here than in the prim-and-proper stone buildings that had no character, no personality, no special quality to them whatsoever.
An antique store called to me, and I responded by going through the front door. "Hello!"
The clerk was an old stallion I had come to know as Mr. Heirloom. From his faded vest to his oversized spectacles, he was the perfect embodiment of the store that smelled of eras gone by. There was something comforting in the unique scent of an antique store, and I happily breathed it in.
"Back again so soon?" Mr. Heirloom gave a friendly smile and crossed his forelegs on the dark wooden counter. "I told you last time, we don't haggle in Canterlot."
I flashed a smile back at him as I headed toward the prize I had been eyeing since I found the store: a beautiful black-and-gold typewriter. "It's still here, though, so perhaps you should reconsider that stance."
"It's already quite the bargain, son." Mr. Heirloom shook his head. "Sixty bits, and no fewer than that. You got sixty bits?"
I certainly didn't. I tried not to let how destitute I was show on my face, though, and instead idly fiddled with one of the typewriter's two keys. "Oh, hmm."
"Hmm?" Mr. Heirloom leaned forward. "What?"
I pulled my hoof back and sighed as I turned away from the gorgeous typewriter. "What a shame. Oh well."
Mr. Heirloom frowned, eyeing me from head to hoof. "What is a shame, son?"
"I'm sure somepony won't mind, but I need a nice, smooth keystroke. The left key has a hitch in it that could slow my work, and I just don't have time for that."
Grumbling to himself, the old stallion dropped down onto all fours and walked over with a small limp. He had a bad hip—I knew that because he'd complained about it several times. He put one hoof on the key and wiggled it about. "Seems fine to me."
"Of course, of course." I shook my head. "How many years have you used a typewriter?"
He eyed me over the rim of his spectacles. "Before you were born, I reckon."
"Yes, yes, you've used them, but have you used them?" I moved a hoof in a lazy, circular gesture to try to distract him from thinking too deeply into my words. "A typewriter is my life, my very being. There are some days where I have been so deeply invested in my typewriter that I lose track of where I end and it begins. A single hitch, so small that a casual writer such as yourself would never notice, is the difference between running and crawling for me."
There was a long silence before Mr. Heirloom burst into deep-bellied laughter. He clapped a hoof on my shoulder, shaking his head as the laughing made him wheeze as he tried to say, "All right, all right, my boy." Wiping the corner of his eye, he heaved a sigh and smiled. "You can have it for twenty."
I beamed so brightly that he burst into another fit of laughter. "Thank you! I'll treasure it!"
"I can see that," he said, moving his way back behind the counter to ring me up while I maneuvered the typerwriter onto my back, my wings raised just enough to hold it in place.
It was heavy, which made it perfect. I was so excited to take it home that the whole way, I felt like I was walking on air despite its weight tethering me down. Finally, I could get the scenes trapped in my head out onto paper while I waited for new work from Majesty. Sleek and antique, this typerwriter was truly a beauty.
Of course, when I got to Velvet's condo, I realized one flaw with my plan: I had nowhere to put it.
With a sigh, I made a mental note to buy a desk tomorrow. For now, I set the typewriter on the bed, retrieved some paper I had gotten earlier in the week, and gingerly climbed up to sprawl in front of it.
Paper primed and ready to go, my hooves began to get a feel for the keys. Equestrian typewriters were an art; maneuvering the keys took skill and practice. Every direction was associated with a different character, punctuation, or the shift to capitalize. It had taken me almost four months to get used to the contraption, and now I couldn't imagine writing without one.
I smiled and tilted the right key to shift, and rotated the left key to bring the scene that had been rattling in my head to life. The typewriter clicked happily and printed out, letter by letter, the words that gave my imagination life.
FADE IN:
I paused and stared at the two, meaningless words. Great start, genius! Where is the scene? A vision flashed in my mind of Parasol sitting outside Haut Savoir, but I tried to shake it off. It was too late; my hooves were already typing away.
EXT. RESTAURANT -- DAY
It was fine. It was just a restaurant. Any restaurant. I tried to imagine it, to let the scene come into vision on its own, but all I saw were little round tables with hay seating.
A MARE and a STALLION sit at a table sharing a meal. They look at one another with love in their eyes.
This was how it was supposed to go, wasn't it? This was the dream I had held onto for so long.
STALLION (V.O.)
But she had rejected me.
Today was the dya.
My hooves began to tremble, the words becoming uncertain and unfamiliar through blurry vision.
She wsa the lvoe of m ylifeeeeeeeee
The 'e' ran on until the typewriter clicked at me to inform me I'd run out of room. My hoof remained pushing on the key while a single, hot tear fell down my cheek, followed soon thereafter by another.
She was the love of my life. I could try to continue on, try to pretend I was okay, but what was I without her? How was I going to move on with my life when it had been wrapped up in her for so long?
If you have enjoyed this story so far, please consider taking a look at Anzel and my's website QuillnBlade.com for extra content such as mini stories, an Ask Us form to submit questions, responses to said questions, and special rewards for the awesome folks who support our Patreon.
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Out of mind?
Great chapter! Silver can be pretty smooth when he wants to be.
And it was genuinely fun to see Velvet's parents messing with her a bit. Also a glimpse behind the scenes at how her parents feel on her lifestyle.
I am intruiged where this is going. Keep up the good work.
Not really. In the real world that's called 'Survival of the Fittest'. Females choose males who are strong, handsome, wealthy, and can provide for them. The concept of love is just a fabrication devised as a false hope of something more meaning to a relationship, made up as a way of keeping two sexes together so they can create life and nurture it to become another slave to the government and to humanity's clockwork plans.
8091236 What a pessimist.
Anyways, this is going to be awkward in about 10 or so chapters when they do fall in love. NOT THAT I ACTUALLY KNOW THAT HAPPENS, NONONONONO, I can just tell it's going to happen.
8091280 Oh yeah? Give it time, you poor hopeless soul. And when she leaves you for another male, you can come and stay at my place till you're back on your feet. I'll even make us some tea, dude.
8091302 I'm terribly sorry something seems to have happened to you. Feel free to take it to PM with TwoGamer if you want to discuss it further. While I disagree with your sentiments, I respect your freedom to have them, but I'd prefer they not be on my comment section. This is a place for comments about the story. ^^ Thanks! Hope you feel better!
8091308 You're right. My apologies. Shall I delete my comments so they don't blemish your comment section, or just leave them there, madam Crystal?
8091312 No worries! They're not offensive, I just don't want things to spiral out of hand. ^^ Thanks!
8091314 Understood. Again, my deepest apologies, madam Crystal. (bows politely to you) It won't happen again, lest thunderbolts strike me and reduce my physical form to black ash and then to windswept dust.
8091236 I didn't say it couldn't happen, I said it was harsh.
And it WAS harsh.
"Love isn't real"
Neither are magical talking horses who can somehow speak English. Fiction isn't meant to be "real". Not even stuff that pretends to be.
8091280 That would, imo, kinda kill the message of the previous entry in this series.
It's pretty evident that Silver's gonna fall hard for Velvet at some point, but I doubt it'll be mutual.
By all rights this should end terribly, but since it involves Velvet who really knows.
On the other hand, stalking Velvet by unofficially working at her parents shop could be more creepy as far as stalking methods go.
Thinking back to her first interactions with Tumble, that's pretty accurate.
Getting interrogated by the mother, this is the worst job of stalking ever.
It's good that Silver had his worldview adjusted a bit before his current bad plan ended up at bad destinations.
Well, Applejack would approve of the honesty.
In fairness to Silver, it would sound at least a little more logical if he had mentioned the Ponyville and Horsey and breakup location connections.
Bwhahahahaha!
So, Canterlot does haggle if you approach it right.
Oooo. This first typewriter experience could have gone better, but, I suppose that he probably needs to get it out.
INT. APARTMENT -- NIGHT.
STALLION CRYING ON BED IN FRONT OF ANTIQUE TYPEWRITER.
FRONT DOOR FLUNG OPEN.
MARE (Earth Pony, Velvet): "Alright! What in Equestria did you tell my... mom...? Oh, no. Oh, no... Silver, um, what's...? Don't cry; please don't. I... can't..."
SHE LOOKS AROUND, UNCERTAIN, BEFORE APPROACHING STALLION AND GINGERLY PUTTING ONE LEG AROUND HIM IN AN AWKWARD HUG.
Oh, so that's how I get into your stories! Alliteration.
8091528
Sunbeam is amazing beyond words, isn't she?
Her ability to disarm and entertain never ceases to amaze. I wish I knew her IRL.
So silver script write down his romance disaster then velvet step read it, shenanigans ensue.
Oh I'm sure we can all relate to falling asleep at the typewriter. Yet all I could think was "I wonder how much research Crystal did on writing screen plays and whatnot", sounds like a new bookmark tab to me! I don't know if I said this just thought it but I LOVE his perspective of Velvets character. The only good third person view we get of Velvet is from Silent's perspective and he's incredibly dense about the finer aspects of her personality. Silver Script is also a fun character and I can't wait for the "wait, you worked with Crystal?/know High Horse" conversation. I love those conversations.
Careful, Script. Only crazy ponies worry about other ponies thinking they're crazy. :D
Also you deserve all the hugs.
Hehehehe I like this stallion! I like the dynamic that forms between him and Sunbeam. Poor Velvet is in for it now. That ending though was a feels trip. I feel for him... I really do cause ive been near that point as well. Funny how pain can slip through at inopportune times. Wonderful chapter all around!
8091768 I can see this happening. parasol trussed up in some... were gonna go with ribbons, with a cupcake as a gag, And velvet planning to make her apologize or something.
Loved this chapter.
I like the recounting of his stalking Velvet, especially the fourth day LOL.
And how he and Sunbeam got Velvet all out of sorts and confused, and probably a bit embarrassed.
But the thing I really loved, was the way you described how a Typewriter with only two keys could actually work. with the tilting anD rotating of the keys to get different characters and such, PURE GENEUS!!!
And as for how poor Silver is going to move on without Parasol? One day at a time, Silver. One day at a time.
8091160 Alas, Parasol doesn't appear to be out of his mind yet...
8091218 Heeheehe. Yes, it was a great opportunity for a little peek behind the curtain of Sunbeam's opinion of Velvet's life choices!
8091417 It would seem to contradict with everything we have seen of and heard from Velvet thus far!
8091528
Right?? That's exactly what I was thinking!! hahah.
It'll take more than a +2 to Perception to get past Sunbeam's difficulty check.
I love writing Sunbeam so much, and I love that others love her, too
8091695
Oh my gosh, I can just see it in my head, too.
8091768 Oh my!
8092874 Whaaat *hides bookmarks* nooo *shoos them under rug* I'm not that obsessive...
Yes!! The new perspective is my second favorite part of writing this. The first is that, given how many directions the theories in comments are going, there are going to be some surprised and possibly even disappointed folks by the end of this story. Mwuahah!
8092900 But what if he's so crazy he thinks he's sane, and therefore thinks he might be crazy?
8094059 Silver and Sunbeam make a great team! Surely there won't be any further hijinks with the two of them... no, no...
8094329 Bonus info, since you brought it up!! \o/
Here is an excerpt from the slowly growing codex of information I'm working on very sporadically over on our website, this one about Languages:
With it only consisting of fourteen letters, that makes the two-keyed typewriter even more plausible. I'm pretty proud of the logistics!!