Trinket vs. Mild Manners - Winner: Mild Manners (by Vote)
Trinket vs. Mild Manners - by Trinket's Author
“I don’t suppose there’s anyplace more modish in this town, is there?” Mild Manners asked.
“This is about as modest as it gets here,” Trinket said with a smile, walking forward towards the small gated entrance of the café in front of them.
Mild Manners sighed and absently adjusted the sleeves of his vest, green like the grass under his hooves and the curls of his mane. He knew he should’ve worn some appropriate shoes for this town. No village with under a thousand residents should have been expected to have paved roads. So with some reluctance, he followed after Trinket into the café’s parlor, or at least what served as one.
Really, he was trying to think of it as being anything but an outdoor patio surrounded by a small metal fence. A dozen sets of tables and chairs were strewn about, half of them occupied. The only building was a small wooden shack, which Mild Manners assumed was the kitchen. He didn’t know where else it could’ve been. It wouldn’t surprise him if they pulled their dandelions straight from the ground he stood on, actually. He didn’t know what to think about that.
Trinket took one of the more centered tables and happily waved him over. Mild Manners tried not to step in the wet patches of dirt as he came and seated himself.
“This is certainly a quaint little town,” he said, passing an eye over everything he could see from here, which wasn’t much. Just a few dozen other buildings, not one of them containing more than two stories and all looking as simple as the other.
“Thanks!” Trinket said, putting his hooves on the table. “Though, I’d say it’s more humble if anything at all. Everypony kind of keeps to themselves around here.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Trinket chuckled. “You really gotta go out of your way to end up here in Hoofshear,” he said. “Trust me, though. There’s nowhere else in Equestria like it.”
“That you’ve seen,” Mild Manners mused. “This village reminds me a lot of Amity.”
“Oh, I’ve heard of that!” Trinket nodded his head. “Small place in the middle of the plains, right? Big marketplace? I’ve always wanted to go there.”
“Amity?” came a third voice. The two stallions turned to find a waiter standing at their table. If it weren’t for notepad under her wing, Mild Manners would’ve been none the wiser; she was lacking any sort of proper attire. The mare added, “I have a cousin who lives there. Runs her own little business.”
“Hey there, Rosebud!” Trinket smiled at her. “How’s your day going so far?”
“Same ol’ same old,” she said, taking out the notepad and a pencil. “What can I get you and your friend this afternoon?”
“Just my usual,” he chirped.
“Uhm...” Mild Manners looked down at the distinct lack of menus. “I don’t know,” he said after a pause. “I’ll just have whatever it is he’s ordering.”
“So two daisy sandwiches and two orders of hay fries?” The mare smirked. “Coming right up.” She tucked the notepad back under her wing and turned away, disappearing behind that wooden shack.
“So,” Trinket started, “you gonna tell me what you’re doing here sooner or later?”
Mild Manners rolled his eyes. “I told you before, it’s strictly a family matter.”
“A family matter that involves you want to take a tour of some insignificant village?” He shook his head. “Yeah, I’m not buying it. What kind of business is that?”
“The kind that isn’t yours.”
“Well, you’re the one who came to me,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “Of all the ponies in Hoofshear, you came to me and asked to be shown around. If you were aiming for subtlety, you missed step one.”
Mild Manners sighed. “Look, while I respect your enthusiasm, I would really appreciate it if you were to stop questioning the matter.”
“Just give me something!” Trinket groaned, throwing his hooves out. “Nothing exciting ever happens here.”
He snorted. “You think I’m exciting?”
“Maybe?” Trinket shook his head. “As I’ve said, you have to go out of your way to end up in Hoofshear. It isn’t every day we get a Canterlot Noble here, and I’m still trying to wrap my head around what one would be doing—” He paused, eyes wide. Then a winning grin started to emerge on his muzzle and he whispered. “Does Cadance have anything to do with it?”
“No,” Mild Manners deadpanned, but it wasn’t without some hesitation, which they both noticed. He sighed again and said, “Cadenza has nothing to do with why I’m here. However, I will give you that she recommending seeing you as a guide around town.” Now he started to grow skeptical. “Speaking of, how do you two know each other?”
“We grew up together,” Trinket said. “As I’m sure you know, Cadance had always been very... dismissive of her own stature. That’s how some colt living in the Burros became friends with a high-class alicorn, at any rate. I ended up moving here after school, before her whole princess-thing took off.”
Mild Manners smirked. “You’d have to go out of your way to end up in Hoofshear.”
Trinket laughed at that. “Yeah, I guess so. I remember reading about the place and fell in love with the town, its architecture, the landscape... Sometimes I wish more out-of-towners would stop by. It isn’t exactly a tourist destination, but the beauty should definitely be shared.”
Mild Manners hummed to that, but otherwise said nothing. There was nothing else to discuss besides, because then Rosebud came back carrying their lunches.
“Here you go, colts,” she said, setting the trays down. “Need anything else, just call me,” she added, winking at Trinket before walking away.
Mild Manners looked down at his food, hiding his sudden distaste for it. Usually his food required a set of silverware, which he didn’t have. Now he was more thankful he wasn’t wearing any cumbersome shoes, but this food didn’t suit him. It smelled way too sweet.
He glanced across the table to Trinket, who was holding his own daisy sandwich aloft in his magic but going after the hay fries with his hooves. Nonetheless, he picked up his sandwich and took a bite out of courtesy, even though he told himself he was hungry. A good pony wouldn’t starve themselves, at any rate.
“Good, huh?” Trinket asked.
“Its... decent,” he replied. “Not quite sure what I was expecting.”
“It shouldn’t make you sick to your stomach,” Trinket said with a smile. “Everything served here is grown here. Fresh, straight from the source.”
“The ground?” Mild Manners said, catching himself. He passed a glance out towards the dirt-grass street.
“Well, where else are you going to plant something?” Trinket said before taking another bite.
Mild Manners looked back at his food with a little more trepidation. But that didn’t make it any harder to go down, he realized.
“So I was thinking,” Trinket said between chewing, “after this, we’ll go take a walk through the woods. There’s this well-worn path that takes you down by a river, a small cliff, and a this gorgeous meadow to the south.”
Mild Manner’s ears twitched at that last item, but the former make him uneasy. “After the rest of the town, you mean?”
“Sure,” Trinket said with a shrug. “But I thought you wanted to see more of the outskirts?”
“I do,” Mild Manners said with a nod. “But I figure it’d be better to get to know the rest of the village a little more beforehand.”
“You looking for something in particular?”
“The meadow sounds lovely,” he added. “The river runs straight through it, right?”
“Someone’s done their research,” Trinket said, smiling. “Can’t think of a better place to go stargazing at night. It’s really soothing to have the river so close by.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Mild Manners said, moving on to the hay fries. “I can’t exactly do my job at night.”
“Job?” Trinket tilted his head. “So you’re here on what, a contract?”
“Kind of,” Mild Manners remarked. “The Navigazes want—”
Before he could say any more, his voice caught in his throat and his eyes went wide. He immediately turned to Trinket, who was doing his best not to laugh.
“The Navigazes?” he asked after calming down, wearing a half-skeptical smile. “So you’re doing a family friend a favor? What, picking flowers?”
Mild Manners blushed. “No! I-I’m... I’m not—!” He hid his face and groaned. “Ugh, I wish they didn’t even tell me what. I get too carried away in conversation.”
“Good to know,” Trinket joked. “But seriously. Now that the secret’s out, what’re you really up to? Lemme guess, Blueblood wants his own private golf course?”
Mild Manners sighed and mumbled, “Yes.”
Trinket opened his mouth to continue but stumbled over his thoughts. “Wait, seriously?” He stared. “I was joking. You can’t be serious. Blueblood sent you here to scope out the place?!”
“Well, not Blueblood himself,” Mild Manners muttered. “But yes. That’s what I’m here to do. You think I just wanted to come out here?” He thought for a moment. “And no, nopony else knows. Cadance doesn’t know either. Or at least I don’t think she does.”
Trinket snorted and frowned. “Well I can tell you that you’re wasting your time. There’s no way in Tartarus that’s going to happen. The mayor will reject it. Nopony in Hoofshear will allow you to cut down that meadow.”
“It’s not up to you,” Mild Manners remarked. “Money talks, you know.”
“In Canterlot it does.” Trinket crossed his forelegs. “Not out here, though.”
“You’d be surprised,” Mild Manners muttered, reaching for the last of his hay fries.
“We’ll see about that,” Trinket said. He planted his forehooves on the table and stood. “Come on, we’re going to go check that meadow out. You’ll see why you don’t want ruin it with some pompous golf course.”
“Alright,” Mild Manners said, pushing out his chair.
He reached into a small pouch on his vest for some bits, but when he pulled them out he found Trinket already tossing more than enough on the table.
He tilted his head. “Let me pay for this.”
“Nuh-uh,” Trinket said. “That’s not how it works. I don’t care how rich you are or what you’re doing here, you’re a guest. I’m paying.”
Mild Manners rolled his eyes. “I think we both know you don’t exactly have a lot of bits to share. But if you insist...”
“I do. Now come on.”
Mild Manners closed up his little pocket and turned to follow after Trinket. But before he did, he grabbed for the last hay fry on his tray. The glint of the bits’ gold caught his eye, and he smiled, throwing out an amused snort.
“Money does talk,” he said to himself.
Mild Manners vs. Trinket - by Mild Manners' Author
Trinket didn’t really like Canterlot.
Sure, the buildings looked nice, and the streets were clean, and the view of Equestria’s rolling meadows from the mountainside city was among the most beautiful sights he’d ever seen, but Trinket was a country pony – Hoofshear was small, and tucked away into a cosy corner.
He felt out of his depth, he supposed. Although, from what Cadance had told him, that was not at all unusual.
Cadance. Trinket jolted out of his daydreams, looked around at the train station he was standing in (and looking kind of silly in), and trotted off towards the main street. He huffed a little bit – his packs were laden with gizmos and gadgets, trinkets and tinkerings, and endless bits-and-bobs he’d put together over the last year or so.
I quite liked some of these, he thought. But good golly, my workshop is cluttered enough as it is.
Stepping out from the surprisingly modest train station into the opulent streets crowded with tapered towers gave Trinket a bit of vertigo, but he was used to it enough by this point. His tinkering habits meant he came to Canterlot pretty much every year to sell off his various creations and get some money back. Sometimes he made a profit, sometimes he didn’t. He didn’t really care either way – as much as Canterlot unnerved him, it was at least a nice change of pace. Bartering his wares with the especially animated ponies of Canterlot tended to be more interesting than making horseshoes all day.
It didn’t take long to make it to the market. It should be confined to Diarch Square, but it had formed a habit over the last few years of just kind-of sprawling out, like a freshly-fed feline, in order to accommodate new arrivals. Stalls had a habit of crowding the streets. Trinket liked it; he could hear and see ponies chatting and smiling at one another through the chaos. It felt quite homely despite everything.
“Hey! Watch out!” somepony shouted. Trinket’s ears flickered, and he turned his head on reflex, but that didn’t save him from the unicorn carrying far too many books in his magic.
“Oof!” Trinket, predictably, lost his balance, the heavy weight of his saddlebags carrying him onto the flagstoned streets. He landed with a tinkling crash, as if someone had broken a pane of glass, and he winced at both the landing and the ominous noise. I probably should have expected this to happen.
He slid out from his saddlebags and pushed himself back up onto his hooves. There was a momentary lapse of silence when he looked around as everypony nearby noticed the tumble. Trinket looked down himself – a little knocked about but otherwise fine – and then over at the pony who’d crashed into him.
He was a white, smartly dressed unicorn – hardly a rarity in Canterlot – and he was sitting on the ground, eyes closed and rubbing his head. Books were splayed out around him. Some polite ponies trotted over and asked him if he was okay, to whom he smiled and assured them that was, in fact, perfectly fine. He got unsteadily to his hooves and looked around at his books. For a moment, he looked furious, as if he was going to punch something petulantly, before his placid smile snapped back into place so fast that Trinket thought he was just imagining things.
“Hey.” Trinket walked over and picking up a book in his telekinesis. “I’m really, really sorry,” he said, immediately feeling awkward, but pressing on regardless. “I should have got out of your way. Do you need any help with these books?”
The unicorn just smiled at him. “That would be great, thanks. Maybe you should check on your bags first, though?” His horn glowed as he spoke, his books lifting off the ground and forming a stack on the flagstones.
“Oh. Right.” Trinket looked down at his bags, hefted them, and heard the tinkling of broken bits inside. He sighed, opened the flaps, and peeked inside. “That’s not good…”
“What is it?” The white unicorn said from over his shoulder. Trinket heard his hoofsteps as he approached and looked into the bag. “Oh. That isn’t good.”
Do I still have enough to sell? Or should I just not bother this year?
“Wow, hey, I’m really sorry about this.” Trinket felt a hoof on his shoulder. He looked up and saw the unicorn looking at him with a miserable expression on his face. “I’ll help you get set up. How’s that?”
“W-Well, I–”
“Then it’s settled!” The unicorn pulled the saddlebags on with his magic, then turned around and lifted his books into the air, where they teetered ominously. “C’mon! Where are we going?”
Trinket looked at him. He was tall, taller than Trinket, but wasn’t particularly buff either – he looked ready to collapse already, and he hadn’t even moved. Trinket would feel bad if he just brushed him off, though.
“I arranged a spot in Diarch Square itself, I think…”
“Okay! Follow me!” The white unicorn began to march into town, Trinket at his heels.
Trinket learned a little bit about the surprisingly helpful unicorn during their ten minute trip to the town centre.
One: his name was Mild Manners. Trinket didn’t think this was a very good name for him – he seemed to flip between sadness and excitement at the drop of a hat. Trinket didn’t mention that, though. He didn’t want to be rude.
Two: he was studying at Canterlot University. He said this with some subtle pride, so Trinket assumed that was something worthy of respect, but Trinket didn’t know anything about Canterlot, let alone its university, so this didn’t really mean much to him.
Three: he was nobility. Mild hadn’t mentioned it at all, but Trinket just got the impression. He said ‘bath’ like ‘barth’ and ‘grass’ like ‘grarss’. Trinket would have pointed to his white coat as a reason, as well, but Mild Manners was strangely stringent on the fact that it was cream coloured.
“Oh, hey, here’s the spot!” Trinket said. He pointed to a small corner of the marketplace. The crowds were especially concentrated around Diarch Square, but Trinket knew how to squirrel without any real issues.
Mild, on the other hand, was lugging around more weight than he should be, even after Trinket took some of his books to carry. He was sweating and taking huffing breaths. “G… Good…” He said, between breaths. “Let’s… Let’s get you set up.”
The two trotted over to the little corner, where Mild pulled off the saddlebags and dropped his books before sitting down to rest. He caught his breath, then looked around in confusion. “Wait… Where’s your stall?”
“Oh, it’s here.” Trinket rooted around inside the saddlebags, then pulled out a cubic contraption. “Let’s hope my fall didn’t break it.” He dropped it in the centre of his assigned area, then lit his horn.
The cube immediately began to move. Seemingly independent of Trinket’s actions, the box flipped, folded, expanded, and, eventually, transformed into a modest stall.
“Phew.” Trinket wiped his brow. “That’s a relief.”
“I’ll say!” Mild leapt to his hooves, poking and prodding the stall with his hooves. His eyes were wide with wonder. “How in the world did you make this?”
“Oh.” Trinket fiddled with his hooves. “Well, it’s like, you take the shape of the stall, and you kind of unfold it, like a cardboard box, and then you kind of…” Trinket made vague box-shaped gestures. “It’s not that impressive, anyway. Mostly just magic.”
Mild Manners didn’t seem at all disappointed by Trinket’s vague explanation. If anything, he seemed only more excited. “So you sell stuff like this, then?” Without waiting for Trinket to respond, he opened the bag with his magic and pulled out a hoof-ful of gadgets.
“Oh.” Trinket’s fiddling became more erratic. “Yeah. Well, mostly make them, but sell them too. Mostly metal stuff, you know.”
Mild peered at the trinkets, one by one, before placing them on the stall. “I can’t even tell what half of these do. They look amazing, though.” He pulled out a weirdly shaped piece of metal. “Wow, what’s this? Some kind of modern art? A sculpture, maybe?”
“Oh.” Trinket, eventually, got his fiddling under control. “No, that’s… broken.”
Mild deflated at that. “I’m sorry.”
“No, no! We’ve been over this, it’s my fault, I…” Trinket pleaded, but he trailed off when he realised Mild had gone back to wallowing in self-pity. “Look, how about I…” He thought quickly. “Maybe I can show you how to make some of these?”
Mild’s head jerked up, astonished. “You would do that?”
“I guess? I mean, sure.” Trinket looked away, abashed. “I mean, you seem to be pretty good with your magic, and you have to be pretty clever to go to Canterlot University, right? You can get the hang of it pretty quickly, probably.”
Mild made a show of looking skeptical, but his breast swelled up a little regardless. “Well, if you think I can…”
“I definitely think you can.” Trinket smiled. “But let’s get set up first, shall we?”
It had been about an hour since they’d set up the stall.
Trinket had been glad to discover that only some of the things he’d brought had actually broken, and that most of them were still sales-worthy. Amongst the scrap, he picked out a slightly broken old clock he’d made a long time ago, and a few spare parts that he kept around with him. After going over some of the things he knew with Mild, and showing him generally what he had to do, Trinket handed him some tools and asked him to fix the clock. Mild nodded, then sat near the stall and began to work on the clock.
Trinket, meanwhile, put some of the more useful things he had up on display – a watch, a set of horseshoes, some nails, as well as the odd peculiarity he found in the bottom of his bags. His corner of the marketplace was relatively quiet, and so only a few ponies actually came nearby and pondered his goods, but Trinket didn’t mind. He liked being able to relax and tinker with something idly while he sat at the stall, as well as help his new friend with his own project.
As time passed by, Mild got more and more annoyed.
“What does this do?” he asked Trinket, for the third time. “I can’t get it to fit.”
“Just think about it. Imagine it’s a puzzle, and you need to put the right pieces in to fix it.”
“But…” Mild huffed. “You keep telling me that, but it doesn’t really mean anything. Aren’t you supposed to be teaching me?”
Trinket fiddled with his hooves. “Well… I don’t really know what to say that’ll help you. I can show you what you need to do next, if you want.”
“Okay.” Mild shoved it at him with his magic. “Try that.”
Trinket took the pieces in his hooves, looked at them for a moment. “See, you just need to put this here, and then this goes here – you need to be careful with this, ‘cause it’s fragile – and then…” He handed it back, slightly more completed than it was beforehand. “Try working from there.”
“Why do you use your hooves?” Mild gave him a suspicious look. “Does magic not work, or something?”
“Of course not.” Trinket looked back at the stall, hoping to see a customer there. “I just… work better with my hooves. Always have.”
Mild stared at him for a moment. Then he returned to his corner and went back to working.
Another hour passed.
“I can’t do this.” Mild trotted up to Trinket. “It’s beyond repair,” he said, slamming the half-finished clock down in front of his friend.
Trinket looked up at him, then frowned at the clock. “Hmm. That’s a shame.”
“‘That’s a shame’? Is that it?” Mild sat on his haunches and glared at him. “I thought you said you could teach me to do it.”
“I can! I think. Maybe.” Trinket looked around, then down at the bits and pieces in his hooves. “Here. Take these, and try just, like, tinkering with them. See what you can make.”
Mild looked down at the pieces with a skeptical look, then, as if to copy Trinket, took them with his own hooves.
Trinket winced when their hooves touched. “Ouch.”
Mild looked at him, slightly surprised. “What? Are you hurt?”
“No, no.” Trinket turned his hooves over and looked at the multiple burn scars on the back. “Just some old bruising.”
Mild spared them a glance, then turned and strode off into his corner again. “Alright, I’ll be back in a bit.”
The market was only halfway over when Trinket heard the noise. It was a rather familiar scream of frustration, followed by an even more familiar tinkling crash.
Trinket’s head whipped around. Mild Manners stood, huffing and puffing, while a little pile of twisted bits and pieces lay in a little pile on the floor. Trinket got up and trotted over to his friend.
“Stupid broken silly little pieces of…” Mild jolted when Trinket touched his shoulder. “What?”
“Are you alright?” Trinket asked, and immediately regretted it.
Mild’s head whipped around and he glared at him, with tears of frustration budding at the corners of his eyes. He seemed like he was getting ready to shout, before he paused, looked down at himself, and let it all out with a heaving sigh.
“I’m sorry, Trinket.” Mild looked at him with a miserable expression on his face, then kneeled down to pick up the twisted pieces on the floor. “I just… I don’t get it. The pieces never seem to come together, no matter if I use magic, or hooves with the tools, or…” Mild levitated the pieces onto the stall counter and trailed off. “Maybe I just don’t have the knack for it.”
“No, I get it.” Trinket smiled at him, as if to reassure him. “I was sometimes like that too, even to this day. But I had a way better teacher when I was learning.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I’m gonna be honest, I don’t even know the first thing about teaching. Most of it came naturally. You must be like that with some stuff too, right?”
Mild hesitated, then nodded his head, smiling bashfully. “Yeah, I suppose so. Ah well.”
“Oh, hey, I also finished fixing that clock.” Trinket levitated over the old clock, which ticked along merrily. “I mean, not to show off. I just want you to have it. As a gift, you know?”
Mild looked down at the clock. Then he gave Trinket a large, sincere smile. “Thank you. It means a lot. Also, I just realised this second that I’m gonna be late for my afternoon classes, so I should really, really get going now. Bye, Trinket!”
And with that, Mild Manners took the clock, picked up his books, and galloped off towards the University.
Trinket sat down at his stall. He looked at his gizmos and gadgets, trinkets and tinkerings, and endless bits-and-bobs that had plagued his workshop floor, and he smiled.
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Trinket's Author
I really enjoyed the character interactions, and it looked like the start of a good story. For the first round of actually seeing Mild Manners characterized, I felt Trinket's Author did it better, since while Mild Manners's Author's entry was a bit more entertaining, I felt that his own character was poorly represented there.
Trinket's author
I thought both authors did a great job, but Trinket's author actually established a more complex backstory that left me wanting more. Also, Trinket's author provided a more mature, rounded depiction of both characters, which is really what clinched it for me in the end.
Trinket's Author
I felt that the characterization was better in this entry, and the story also seemed more focused and complete. Although the first story ends in what seems to be the middle of a larger story, the ending to the second piece felt really abrupt, and nothing really got resolved at the end of the story.
Trinket's Author
Much better story along with a clear cut plotline that I greatly enjoyed. Mild Manners's overall had a very entertaining piece, Trinket was more coherent and a better developed plot that stuck to both characters. Tough choice but the one I'm sticking to nonetheless.
Trinket's Author Vote
The thing that baffles me the most is that Mild Manners' author calls him a unicorn in Mild's entry, but the OC document calls him an Earth Pony. I am beyond confuzzled as to which one should be considered correct.
Mild Manner's Author
Better characterization of Mild Manner, and equally good characterization of Trinket and equally good character interaction compared to the other story. Trinket's Author's story has better written dialogue, but I feel it really dropped the ball on Mild Manner's characterization, making him into just another noble.
Mild Manners' Author
Well, here we go, in reverse order this time. I'm probably going to hate myself for doing it this way about midway through.
Trinket's Author
I liked the atmosphere of the story, and it felt like you were doing a real good job with subtle world-building. Unfortunately, at the end of the story, I felt that there was really nothing of substance there--there didn't seem to be a resolution. I wanted to see the part where Mild Manners saw the error of his ways, but the story ended before that happened.
Mild Manners' Author
Okay, that probably wasn't intentional, but I chuckled when I came across it. Your way of covering Mild Manners' bio sheet was odd but effective. I did feel that this entry, too, was a bit insubstantial--certainly, I expected Trinket's tutoring to cause Mild Manners to actually be able to fix something, and he just wasn't. Still, I do that a lot, so I guess I can't fault another author for doing the same to me.
Mild Manners's Author
Not the strongest win, and I won't get defensive this time if everyone else votes otherwise. The first story was just weaker. I'm getting too tired to give good feedback, but I'm not tired enough to wax eloquent about every little thing I liked either. Mild Manners was done well enough (I think it would take Haystacks's author to really make anything out of him), but Trinket wasn't enough Trinket to win my vote.
The second story was better, but wouldn't have stood up against most other entries this round. I liked the subtle stuff about both characters, like Mild insisting his coat is cream and Trinket trying to teach when he knows he's no good at it. The plot was the weakest thing. There wasn't really a good enough reason for the two of them to stay together so long, and too much time was spent with Mild Manners trying to learn to tinker. Whoever wins this had better be ready for much steeper competition in the next round.
6090149 Huh.
I'm going to trust the story. The bio is more likely to be a mistake, and it makes more sense for him to be a unicorn, being a Canterlot noble.
Mild Manners's Author
Really tough choice. I think Trinket's story experimented with cool tidbits of worldbuilding that made it an intriguing read, and I like Mild Manners in it despite kind of being painted as just another noble, which seemed against what Mild Manners's author was going for. However, Trinket was kind of bland and uninteresting in that entry, and the plot seemed kind of empty to me.
Mild Manners's entry was only barely better for me just because it seemed like a better portrayal of both characters. I feel like it dragged in places, but it didn't really affect my decision too much. Great show from both authors.
6094211
I agree that it makes more sense, but I still don't like how it goes against the sheet. Trinket's author has no choice but to use him as an Earth Pony or face even more wrath than Firefly's author did last round regarding Melon Rind's sheet. I'm not sure how much it would have changed things, as I don't believe Trinket's author actually draws any attention to Mild Manners' race in his entry, but I wonder if he/she would have made different decisions based on that info.
The entries were fairly close in my opinion, but since it goes against the sheet, that's the main reason I'm handing it to Trinket.
6097606
Huh. I hadn't noticed that error there. I suppose Mild Manners author must have made a mistake either on the sheet or in the fic?
I don't think it'll affect my verdict though -- I can see why it might influence your vote, but the story is what matters most, imo
Mild Manners' Author
Aside from the whole race confusion going on in the story, it gives a much a better picture of the two characters, whereas the first just has them talk back and forth, which isn't very exciting or particularly memorable.
Mild Manners' Author
Trinket's author's entry feels like another one of those situations where the author might've been depending overmuch on the entry they wrote last round to substitute for conveying things this round. Trinket in this story was just a stock small-town pony, apart from his ties to Cadance (which continue to seem oddly emphasized over everything else, for me). Nothing else on his already very tiny sheet got across, including any aspect of his personality—I'll admit that the only applicable one probably would have been the bit about how he "has trouble expressing himself through words, [and] works best with his hooves", because again, there's very little on the sheet, but still.
Likewise—and here there's no "they were banking on the previous round" excuse—Trinket's author's take on Mild Manners made the character seemed boiled down to a stock noble. Yet again, the ties he has to a canon character seem to be about the only unique thing conveyed in the piece, and that's a real shame considering how much deeper Mild's sheet is as compared to Trinket's. Important things (namely his "heart of gold and genuine compassion for other ponies, no matter their station") felt outright ignored, in parts. This alone felt like enough reason not to vote for Trinket's author, provided Mild Manners' author didn't make any comparable mistakes.
On top of the characterization, though, I wasn't much enthralled by the plot—but I could just be saying that because it wasn't utilized to bring forth as much of the characters as it certainly could have been. Without the uniqueness of the characters, though, the plot/dialogue felt equally bland, even if there were moments of nice humor.
The characterization (and much of everything else) was definitely stronger in Mild Manners' entry. Trinket's trouble speaking came across without being overbearing, his profession mattered (again, that doesn't usually concern me so much, but when there's as little to your character as that…), his relationship with Cadance was given the token mention or two. Mild was far more distinct there as well, just about everything about his character coming through to my satisfaction. With the exception of his race, though I found that less important than the personality stuff that Trinket's author missed. The really baffling thing is that I looked back at the first round and saw that Mild was, indeed, portrayed as an earth pony there, so I really can't imagine what went wrong here.
The plot was more than a standard conversation, even if it was another "they bumped into each other and then spent some time together" sort. If I have a complaint on that front, it's that the ending was fairly weak, just sort of suddenly cutting off and then petering out.
The editing in both was fine—I recall spotting an error or two, but I can't even remember which entry they were in. Nothing major.
Trinket's author, pay more attention to the sheets and take more care with your own character. Mild's author, maybe come up with something a bit more original for how the characters might be introduced to one another.
Mild Manners' Author
Yeah, not really sure why Trinket is getting so many votes here. I mean, admittedly, neither story really stands out as a story or with their characterizations (which were not bad in both), but the latter was just generally better constructed. The mention of Cadance in both stories leaves the expected distaste. Neither story really does anything, but at least Mild Manners' ends in a way that makes sense. I suppose Trinket's was trying to leave off with some feeling of foreshadowing or something? I'm not sure. It's a confusing thing to say in that situation.
Mild Manners' Author
The latter story had much better voice in its prose, a sturdier plot, and better characterization overall. Forgive the broad strokes reasoning, here, but that's pretty much how it is. Everything I might say has already been said.
Mild Manners's Author
Trinket's entry in the first round was pretty good, but the structure of just having a conversation while you work (or while you eat sandwiches) does not serve well here. This was really boring.
The second entry wasn't great either, mind you. I especially dislike the fact that it has a kind of empty non-ending.
Endings are everything, people! You have to know your ending before you start writing!
TRINKET’S AUTHOR
Trinket vs. Mild Manners
Liked: I definitely got caught up in the mystery of why he was there.
Disliked: Once the secret spills, the story just runs out of steam.
Mild Manners vs. Trinket
Liked: At least there weren’t any missing sentences this time!
Disliked: Both characters come off very one-note, and the story suffers for it.
Mild Manners' Author
To be honest, I found myself skimming through Trinket's story. I found it rather bland and confusing.
vote: Trinket's author
To make a grilled cheese sandwich, first take two slices of bread and evenly butter one side of each slice. Set one slice butter-side down on a hot skillet, and then add cheese on top. Add the other slice butter-side up. Let simmer before flipping with a spatula. Continue to do this until both sides are a golden brown. Then remove and serve.
Trinket's author
Trinket's Author
Honestly, I felt very little for either story. Trinket had slightly more character in MM's story, but Trinket's story had more interesting dialogue and situation. I also really liked how MM was just there to get Blueblood a golf course in Trinket's story; it was a small detail, but it really made the story more memorable to me. I think the main reason I liked Trinket's story more is because it actually made me somewhat invested in the story; MM's story just kind of bored me. Probably not the best reasoning for a neck and neck contest, but I'm sorry; I just liked Trinket's story more.
Mild Manners's Author
The characters in the first story didn't really feel like much. It was almost as if I was expected to already know things about the characters, which is unfortunately not how this is supposed to work. Mild Manners's author, on the other hand, had much stronger characters, so they got the nod.