Foxglove vs. Loud Mouth - Winner: Loud Mouth (by Default)
Misplaced Enthusiasm - by Foxglove's Author
The applause was boisterous.
She would have also described it as ‘raucous’ or ‘gratifying’ or one of the other dozen or so words that bounced around inside her head – words that she had but never used thanks to the ironic nature of her job.
Loud Mouth was paid to speak. The simpler she spoke, the easier it was to get an idea across.
Efficient and plain was the only way about it, and so did she think upon the words unspoken as she walked back to her little dressing room, from the stage of the Brairshire Town Auditorium On-The-Hill – a quaint little place with a quaint little name that sat enough ponies for her to feel like she made a difference.
The corners were rounded, and the dim, shadow-flecked hallways were walked; her musings flew smoothly from her lips in hushed tones as she threw open her door and stepped into her personal space, ready to pack up for the night.
“Oh.”
She smiled to the pony in the room.
The stallion, clad in a blue shirt and tie, licked his lips in return, a light dusting of unshorn beard dotting his chin in patches; he coughed to himself and gave the slightest of nods.
“You’re that guard from earlier,” Loud remarked, closing the door as she pushed in. There was a slight shine to her eyes.
“Yes ma’am,” the guard replied.
“Mister… Foxglove?” she asked, glancing at the tag attached to his lapel.
“Oh… uh…” Foxglove muttered, looking down at it as well. “Yeah. That’s right.”
“I uh… I thought you were standing outside when I left for the stage earlier,” Loud stated, tilting her head as she walked to her table.
“Yeah. I was. Sorry ‘bout that.” The stallion looked away, shifting his eyes to the corners, but flicked his head in the direction of the far wall.
Loud’s own eyes trailed to the location, coming to rest on the television that was bolted there. “Ahh.”
“Yeah. Sorry,” the guard grunted. “Ain’t no live feed out there. And I… ah… I wanted to hear, yeah? And I figured, bein’ in here’s probably better’n bein’ out there, you know, for t’ keep an eye on things and whatnot... ”
“Oh, don’t worry!” Loud winked, reinforcing her smile, which was genuine, please believe me. “I don’t mind. No one sneak in here while I was out there, eh?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Great, so… nothing more I could ask for then, right?”
“No, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.”
Loud threw her hoof through the air in a sort of punching fashion, the smile on her face slowly losing a touch of lustre.
“So…” The guard muttered. “I best be…”
“Um… what did you think?” Loud suddenly blurted out.
“Wuzzat?”
“The seminar. What… whad’ya think?” Loud asked, her lips pursing slightly and her eyes turning hopeful.
“Oh, um…” Foxglove muttered. “You’re… asking me?”
“Yeah! Yeah. I mean… sure! Why not? You saw the whole thing, right?” The pegasus slid into her seat, pulling bottles of make-up remover toward her.
“I missed the first ten minutes, I reckon. But, um… yeah. Gives ya somethin’ t’ think about, for sure.”
“Yeah? What about?” Loud started dabbing at her face with a soaked ball of cotton.
“Well, I liked the story bits, really. Was ah… you know. Made stuff easy t’ understand and… put to my own stuff. You know?”
“Ah…”
“And the topic was… quite inspirin’, I reckon. It’s like… it’s like ‘do what you need’ and all that. ‘Go all the way’ and ‘be different’. It’s… ah… the kind of stuff that everyone oughta know, but you really did knock it in, yeah.” Foxglove tapped the side of his head.
Loud spun in her chair, dropping the cotton swab on the table, now stained with a light shade of brown. “Well, thank you.”
“I’m sure a lot of ponies out there’ll be inclined t’ go and do what they like now, aye.”
“And what about you?” Loud tilted her head.
“Uh....” the stallion looked to the side.
“Oh, sorry!” Loud held up a hoof. “I didn’t mean to come across…”
“Oh, no. No, no, no,” Foxglove rumbled, quickly shaking his head. “I wasn’t… uh… you know. Or whatever.”
“Ah. Right.”
“Just… took me from behind, I guess.”
“Oh. Um… something on your mind?” Loud asked.
“Well.” Foxglove smacked his lips once more, his head bobbing around rhythmically as he thought of an answer. “What you said on stage… A lot to think about. I mean, it’s not an easy question, innit? Thinkin’ if I could do the same.”
“But isn’t it, though?” Loud raised her eyebrows, giving herself a small shrug. “I mean, let’s just take a look at it. You’re… what, a guard?”
“Yeah. I do a bit of… this ‘n that. You know. Here ‘n there.” Foxglove nodded slowly. “Different venues. Different scale. But otherwise more or less the same thing.”
“And what do you think about what you do?”
“What I think?”
“Yeah.”
“I…” Foxglove shrugged. “Another difficult question, lass.”
“But what would you say about it?”
“I… dunno. It’s complicated.”
The stallion shuffled slightly in place.
“Well, that’s still something!” Loud stuck her hoof out, as she spoke with more exuberance than was necessary. “You see, complications just mean that there’s something bothering you about it, whatever that might be. If there’s reason for you to be unhappy, then all you need to do is fi–”
“Yeah,” Foxglove cut in. “Find the source of the unhappiness and cut it out and all that. I was listenin’.”
“Well, good. Then I don’t have to tell you again,” Loud Mouth beamed.
“But the thing is, I think what’s goin’ on here is a bit… different to the usual troubles.”
“Opposite?” Loud raised an eyebrow, letting her hooves drop between her legs as she dangled off the edge of the chair.
“Yeah. See, thing is, right, your seminar’s for those chaps what can do… better for themselves, innit? You’re sayin’, we should do what we like and make ourselves happy, yeah?”
“Yes, that’s the gist of it, yes.”
“See, for me… the… thing I do is good. Kind of. I am happy with it. It makes others happy. No real issues. Still thinking maybe I ought not be doing it anyways.”
“But why not?”
“Because maybe… maybe it ain’t the best way to do things.”
Loud put on a quizzical expression.
“Wait, are we still talking about your job as a guard?” she asked.
“Listen.” Foxglove coughed, stepping quickly to the door. “Thankin’ ye kindly, but I think I overstayed a titch. I’ll be on me way, and–”
“No, no, wait. Listen. Please!” Loud jumped off her chair. “Give me a minute.”
Foxglove stopped in his tracks. “Uh.”
“You don’t have to go into details. It’s fine. I’m not here to pry. But before you go, there’s something I’d like to show you.”
“Show me?”
“Yes.” Loud stated
“Really, ma’am. You don’t need to…”
“But I want to. I want to inspire you. I want to show you that whatever it is that troubles you, you have the power to overcome it.”
“I don’t really have the 79 bits to buy a ticket, yeah?”
“No, no.” Loud was quick to hold a hoof up to that. “Listen. We all have to survive. Money’s just… money. We do what we need to get along. It doesn’t mean that I won’t help others if I can. One pony or a crowd, there’s no difference.”
“Really.”
“Yes. Really. Absolutely.” Loud pumped her hoof in the air. “And that’s really what it’s about, isn’t it? I do this because… I want to. It’s not for personal gain. It’s not for… power. I do what I do because I want to help others. And is that not why you do what you do?”
“Huh?” Foxglove stuttered. “Oh. Yeah. Of course, innit. I mean, why else, right? It’s dangerous. You could be caught by the wrong sort at any time. There’s always a risk. Personal danger. But… yeah. It’s always for someone else.”
“Right.” Loud nodded. “And what you have to ask yourself is, is that more important to you than these doubts you face?”
“Yes. Definitely.” Foxglove frowned.
“Well, you sound very confident about that much. So I’ll say that I think there are always other ways to get around your doubts.”
“And that’s all it is?”
“Well, everypony is different.” Loud mused, hoof on her chin. “The one thing I can say is that we all do things for many different reasons. But see… I had you pegged, I think!”
Foxglove raised an eyebrow.
“I mean, considering what you just said, and what you do, certainly, what’s important to you is helping others, right? Maybe a little bit like myself. Maybe.” Loud smiled gently. “But I think that makes it easier, in a way.”
“Easier, you say.” Foxglove grunted. “I don’t know rightly ‘bout that.”
“Well… what’s the problem exactly?”
“I mean, there’s just a lot of things t’ consider, really. Like I said, it’s complicated. I don’t reckon it’s simple to know what you oughta do or not just like that. I mean, how do you even figure to choose when there’s too much to think on?”
“It’s funny you should ask that. Come over here. This is what I wanted to show you.” Loud waved him over.
Foxglove approached with a slight tedium, a hesitation of will. He stepped lightly, cautiously, approaching a bag that Loud wrenched open and up-turned over her make-up counter table.
Things scattered every which way, like a colourful assortment of decorations. They were all pieces of bric-a-brac, none of which seemed to share anything in common – like the small teaspoon with the bent handle, or the half-empty bottle of fragrant oil, or that little felt-stitched stuffed bunny.
Foxglove looked from the table to Loud for answers.
She was staring not at her guest, but at the table, and when she spoke, her gaze didn’t move away.
“Before I did what I do now, I was in quite a different industry.”
She paused a while, perhaps for effect. Perhaps for recollection.
“Radio. I was… trying to be a DJ. Maybe. Or at least someone who had some kind of on-air presence. Now, the thing is, and quite rightly so, I tried for… years, I think, to find a station thatwould let me do what I wanted.
“But as it turned out, radio isn’t a place for those trying to spread messages of goodwill or encouragement. It’s… a machine, as I found. Not to say that segments of hope didn’t exist, but they normally had a motive or… well.”
The pegasus finally turned to look at Foxglove’s slightly dour expression, responding to with a cheeky little grin. “That’s beside the point. The point is, I moved from place to place with the pitch to create a show that was simply about helping others for the sake of helping others. But the problems came. It was always one thing after another. It was always about money, or entertainment value, or finding experts to talk about specific subjects.
“I was told, more times than not, that I just couldn’t go on-air and help ponies in general. That sort of thing wasn’t feasible. The show wouldn’t carry. But I kept on trying. Over and over. Stubbornly, as I was young, and I had ideals and goals. Just like everyone else, I suppose.”
Loud pointed down at the items on the table. “Every time I was turned down, I would go into the nearest shop and buy something. Anything. It didn’t really matter. But it would then stand to represent that failure. I kept them, watching them pile up, letting these items collect.
“They loomed heavy on my mind, like weights. I wasn’t sure why I had even collected them in the first place. Maybe as a form of motivation. Maybe as a way to remember my failures. But it was a burden.
“And one night, I remember, after my final rejection, and I had bought one of these things – I can’t even remember which it was now – I gave everything a good thought. I sat down, looked at my life, and just… thought. What did I want to do this for? In the end, I had realised something very important. In my attempt to do what I wanted, I lost the plot. I forgot what I was really looking for, and chased a job which ultimately didn’t really matter.
“So I focused on that, instead. You know – what I wanted to do. I wanted to speak to the world and help others find themselves. And in fact, a lot of this experience is what eventually formed the base of my current seminars, amongst all the other topics I speak about.”
Loud Mouth nodded, her story done. For a moment the two ponies stared at the items on the table, a quiet blanket forming until Foxglove’s gruff voice broke through.
“So, why do you keep these, then?” he asked.
“So that I can tell others this story.” Loud smiled. “They no longer represent what they once did. They’re now something I can use to help others. It’s all about perspective, I think. That, and understanding what anyone does anything for.”
Foxglove nodded, his eyelids dropping slightly. Perhaps he was just tired. It was hard for her to tell.
“So… in the end, whatever it is that you’re having problems with, strip everything else away. Understand what it is you’re doing it for, and that will guide you to discover what you think you need to do to keep it going.”
The stallion’s head bobbled as he stared through the wall. “My daughter. I do it for my daughter.”
“Then continue to do it for her.” Loud smiled.
“You know what? I think… I think I will,” Foxglove muttered. “Thank you, lass. Maybe a bit more thought when I get home but… ah… yeah. Yeah. I think you’re right.”
“Listen, it’s always a pleasure. And I do hope you find your path.” Loud bowed slightly. “Now, if you’d excuse me, I do need to visit the washroom really quickly.”
“Oh, of course. Don’t let me keep ya,” Foxglove said, stepping away quickly. “I best be on my way as well. I’m ta check in with the staff.”
“Then be on your way!”
“Have a good night, ma’am,” he said, as he left.
When the door closed, her chest swelled. She looked to the ceiling and took in a big breath, releasing it with due passion.
It felt good.
It always did.
The knowledge that one was set down the right path was something that was always rewarding to her – be it a single pony or a large crowd.
She would go home that night, charged, enthusiastic, and as she swept her things back into her bag, she never noticed that the little felt bunny was not amongst them.
A week later, in a different venue, she would blame herself again, having been careless to leave it at the Brairshire Town Auditorium On-The-Hill by accident.
But she wasn’t too bothered. It was a small deal. For that night she also helped a nice stallion find the courage to seek his happiness.
And that was all that mattered.
Loud Mouth vs. Foxglove - by Loud Mouth's Author
In the past few months, Foxglove had learned quite a few new skills—picking locks, however, was not one of them.
Foxglove muttered a curse as his paperclip snapped in half. Even with magic, he had never been good at sensing the organs of a lock; no matter how much he practiced, he still couldn’t tell his bolts from his latches and his spindles from his plates. This was his third attempt—and his third failure—in only five minutes. He snatched the doorknob in his magic and jostled it a few times, more out of frustration than any real attempt to open it up.
With a snort, Foxglove threw the paperclip to the carpet and moved on to the next door in the hall. What was so classified in a radio station that they had to lock the doors? When he had been hired to temp as a security guard there, he had figured it would be easy pickings. Celebrities were usually careless, and left their things laying around, as if they were daring somepony to come and snatch them away. Even if they were only radio celebrities…
Foxglove hated the radio. Didn’t see the point of it. It certainly didn’t help that the radio he and his daughter owned was busted; no matter how much he turned the dial, all it could pick up were political talk shows. Not exactly his cup of tea.
His breath went short as an image of his daughter, Figgy, leapt through his mind. It was a memory from months ago: the two of them at a street fair, with the smell of popcorn light in the air. He remembered Figgy twirling, skipping, dancing to the music that drifted through the street. He’d love to have a way to let her listen to all the music she’d like. Anything to hear her laugh.
He shook the thought away and moved to pick the lock of the next door in the hall—only to freeze as he realized that it wasn’t locked. Smirking, he walked inside.
Lighting his horn illuminate the room, Foxglove trotted up to the wide desk at the end of the room and slid open one of the drawers. He reached inside.
His legs tensed as a door he hadn’t even noticed creaked open, and a gangly, tan pegasus stepped into the room.
Loud Mouth felt pathetic.
She smacked her hooves against her head and scowled. This was wrong. She was strong, beautiful, smart! As long as she believed in herself, anything could happen. She knew that. She was sure of that. Words like ‘pathetic’ wouldn’t get her anywhere.
Not that she was getting anywhere right now.
Groaning, she forced herself to lift her head from the desk again. She originally had a motivational seminar to speak at that night, but the rec center that had invited her decided to cancel. “Not enough interest,” they had said. So instead, she was sitting here in an empty studio, glaring at her one true love: the microphone.
She did this from time to time. She would ask her friend, Whammy Bar—host of Whammy’s Rock Universe on 103.4, “The Chimera”—if Whammy could leave her studio open for Loud to use. Whammy never asked questions, although Loud suspected that she knew what was going on.
Loud would sit in the studio and dream of having a show to call her own. She would whisper into the mic and practice her catchphrases. She would make lists in her head of what songs she would play, and how she would introduce them. She would giggle as she thought of all the funny sound effects she would play.
It was pathetic.
She took a deep breath, trying to crush the nausea flickering through her stomach. A glance at the clock up on the wall showed that it was nearly ten o’clock—it was high time for her to stop playing radio host and head home. She flicked off the small lamp that sat on the host’s desk and headed for the door.
Whammy Bar was lucky enough to have her studio be connected to her office. She had often joked that Loud should have her own set of keys, she used the studio so much. Loud just smiled and laughed along.
She walked into Whammy’s office and tried to picture what the office looked like so she could navigate in the dark—but her thoughts froze as she saw that another pony was in the room. She yelped and threw herself against the wall as the strange unicorn stumbled back a few steps.
The grey stallion was at least twice her size. A few stringy brown bangs fell over his face, nearly obscuring his eyes. Loud could just barely see his cutie mark, a bronze bell, half of which was covered by the thick blue jacket he wore. The jacket was the only thing about him that was familiar.
“Oh,” she sputtered, throwing a hoof to her heaving chest. “A security guard! I’m so sorry for shouting like that, Mr.”—she glanced at his nametag—“Foxglove!”
Foxglove’s eyes were wide. He took a few breaths before brushing the hair out of his face and smiling. “No problem at all, Miss…?”
“Loud Mouth.”
“Mhm.” Foxglove chuckled. His voice was gravelly, and he spoke with some strange mix of a Manehattan and Trottingham accent. “I’ve gotta say, I wasn’t expecting anyone to be knocking about here so late. Especially not a fine lass like yourself…”
I don’t think ‘fine lasses’ spend their nights babbling to themselves in empty studios…
Loud threw the thought away, even as a thick heat flooded her cheeks. Looking away, she said, “I just forgot something in Whammy’s studio and came back to get it. It was, uh…” She pointed to the tiny gem hanging from her right ear; the cheapest diamond her ex-coltfriend's money could buy. “I forgot my earring. I’m just so disorganized. Heh.”
At that, Foxglove’s eyes seemed to flash. Loud felt a chill crawl up her spine as Foxglove scanned her, hoof-to-mane, muzzle-to-flank, his purple eyes beady and solid. She bit her lip—but pushed the feeling away. This was someone specifically hired to keep the building safe; she had no reason to be nervous.
Foxglove’s smile faded a bit. “A lass like yourself shouldn’t be creeping around out. Wouldn’t do to see you get hurt. Head home, get some rest.”
“That’s probably a good idea,” Loud said, forcing a laugh. She nodded and took a step toward the exit. “Have a good—“
She froze mid-step. From her new angle, she could now see more of Whammy Bar’s desk… and she could see that one of the drawers had been pulled open. She could see all of Whammy Bar’s things scattered about inside: personal notes and files, photos. Jewelry she kept in case she managed to snag a date during her lunch break.
And Foxglove was standing above it all. Any trace of a smile on his face had disappeared.
What was a security guard doing standing around in somepony’s office? And why was the drawer…?
She flicked her eyes back up at him, only to jump as she realized that he was staring straight at her. His gaze jabbed into her like a syringe. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out of her tightening throat.
“Let me guess,” Foxglove said, startling the wind from Loud’s lungs. “You’re wondering why I’m in your friend’s office?”
Loud paused for a moment before nodding.
Foxglove’s smile came back. He jerked his head toward the open drawer. “Your mate—Whammy asked me to check on her stuff, make sure it hadn’t been moved.”
Memories of Whammy Bar yelling at ponies who dared to go through her desk flew through Loud’s mind. Not even her best friends were allowed to touch the things she kept in there.
Loud Mouth choked out a laugh and put on a grin. “Okay!” she chirped, nodding. She took another step toward the door. “That… that’s fine. Now, if you’ll just excuse me—“
“Do you need someone to walk you to the exit?” Foxglove asked. His voice slid across the room like ice.
“No!” Loud yelped. Seeing Foxglove raise an eyebrow, she bit down the curses in her throat and stammered, “I know the way. I’m fine.”
A wave of calm rested upon Foxglove’s face, and Loud felt her lungs begin to loosen. She reached for the doorknob.
That was when Foxglove walked towards her. “Before you go,” he muttered, moving towards the door.
Loud’s entire body was rigid as he passed, his shaggy coat bristling against hers. The heavy smell of pickles wafted from him in waves, pooling in her nostrils and choking out her breath. She could see the muscles bulging in his legs, the gleam off of his sharpened horseshoes—she tried to swallow, but her throat felt like she had just eaten a boulder.
“If you’re not too busy,” Foxglove said, closing the door and locking it, “might you help me with something?”
It took Loud a moment to jerk her head into some version of a nod. “What?”
“Just thought it might be nice to have some company. Guarding is lonely work,” Foxglove said, walking back to the desk. From where he stood, he cast a glance back at Loud. “Got any family? Kids?”
Loud took a deep breath, trying to calm the shaking in her legs. “No.”
“So you don’t have anyone you need to provide for,” Foxglove said. He jerked the desk drawer open wider. “Anyone who’s counting on you.”
Loud watched as a purple glow sparked to life in Whammy Bar’s drawer. She could hear Foxglove moving her things around, pushing them aside—she gritted her teeth. “No, I don’t.”
Foxglove’s gaze tightened. “Mhm.” He pulled out a weathered photo of Whammy and her brother—
“Don’t touch that!” Loud yelled, wings flaring. Foxglove glared at her, and she flinched back, bumping into the wall. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“
Foxglove laughed and put the picture back in the drawer. “I’m sorry. I’ve got no reason to touch something like that.” He shook his head and went back to rummaging. “I’m guessing you know the lass who owns this office?”
“She’s my friend,” Loud said in a shaking voice. Loud had worked at that station for six months, and Whammy had been the only one who ever talked to her, ever laughed with her, who ever cared about her. When Loud called her a friend, she wasn’t using the term lightly.
But if Whammy was really her friend, why wasn’t Loud doing anything to protect her things...?
“It’s great that a lass like you has a lot of friends,” Foxglove murmured. “Young fillies deserve to be happy.” He pulled out a shining silver necklace and held it in the air, letting the small sailboat-shaped charm hang. “Your friend has good taste in jewelry.”
Loud’s legs tensed as she watched Foxglove stare at the necklace, as if it were a piece of food. She thought about leaping forward, about pinning him to the ground and beating him into submission. But then she met Foxglove’s steely glare, and she froze up, her mind went fuzzy. She just stood there.
“Whammy worked a really long time to afford that,” Loud said, forcing her voice to steady. “She cares about it.”
“Then why does she leave it in her desk?”
Loud opened her mouth—but realized that she didn’t have an answer.
“All these radio types are overpaid anyway,” Foxglove said, gathering the long chain into a bundle. “I’m sure she could afford at least ten more. She’s not bothered.”
All the tension in Loud’s bones turned to nausea-laced sludge as Foxglove stuffed the necklace into a small pocket on his jacket. She wanted to scream, to tackle him, to do anything she could to stop being such a stupid, pathetic coward—but all she could do was bow her head and bite down the bile rising in her throat.
There was a thump as Foxglove slammed the desk drawer closed. The light from his horn glinted off the necklace in his pocket. He walked up to Loud, close enough that she could feel his hot breath traipsing along her mane.
“Let’s just keep quiet about this, alright?”
Loud didn’t answer.
“Well?”
She dug her hooves into the carpet—but nodded.
Foxglove smirked and unlocked the door.
A light jingle ran through the brisk night air as Foxglove stepped out of the pawn shop, a bulging bag of bits peeking out of his jacket. Standing in the middle of the street, he took a long breath. The stiff breeze rolling through a city was like a torrent of water against his skin, forcing him awake and sparking an onslaught of fresh thoughts.
The look on Loud Mouth’s face… the fear, the anger, the defeat. It was etched into his eyelids, as if it had been carved there.
He ran a hoof through his ragged mane and started on the path home. It was almost midnight; Figgy was supposed to be asleep, but he had no doubt that she was slumped against a window, watching the soft flicker of the streetlamps and waiting for her father to return. And as soon as she heard his hoofsteps outside the door, she would sprint to bed and pretend she was asleep, even as Foxglove crept into her room and placed a kiss on her forehead, even as he held her tight and basked in the smell of cinnamon that always seemed to waft from her mane.
Foxglove didn’t like hurting ponies. He wished he didn’t have to terrify Loud Mouth like he did—but he had to.
Loud was alone. She didn’t know what is was like to want something, to need something you can’t ever have. She didn’t know what it was like to watch a filly’s future fade before your eyes… unless you did something about it.
She didn’t have to care about anyone. Foxglove did. It was either stop stealing, or see his daughter go without. The choice was clear.
The bag of bits was heavy in his pocket. That necklace had earned him just enough to buy a decent radio; he couldn’t wait to see Figgy dance again.
It was almost sunrise, and Loud Mouth couldn’t sleep.
The mattress under her was soaked with sweat. Burning waves of sickness spilled through her veins. She tried to close her eyes, but whenever she did, all she could see was Foxglove standing above her best friend’s desk, that silver necklace hanging in his magic. She could see him slipping it away, not a single microbe of regret on his face.
And she had just watched.
Air escaped her. She smothered her face with a pillow, trying to crush the stinging beneath her eyes—but there was no stopping what was coming.
And yet, as she lay there, cursing into the fabric, she wasn’t scared. She wasn’t afraid of Foxglove, and how he could have hurt her. Could still hurt her. That wasn’t it.
All Loud could think about was Whammy’s face when she found out that her things had been touched, that her prized possessions had been stolen. She would yell, she would kick—and then, off in the shadows, with Loud Mouth stroking her mane, she would cry. Loud would be the only one who would know how upset she truly was.
And it was all her fault.
Loud could never tell her what happened. Loud could never tell her how sorry she was for just standing there, for just watching, for not doing anything to stop the thief. It was her burden alone.
As the sun rose, Loud Mouth cried.
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Foxglove's Author
I dislike stories with a clear cut resolution that don't follow them. Call the cops, you dumb idiot. That's what they're for.
Loud Mouth's Author
I think that they both did well with the characterization, but Loud Mouth's felt more powerful.
Foxglove's Author
Both stories are good, but I like how Foxglove's story fills in Loud Mouth's history, explaining how she went from seeking on air jobs in radio to motivational speaking. It does a really great job of exploring both characters' motivations and finding the theme of "helping others" as the common thread binding them. The conversation between the two was executed excellently, especially the hidden meaning behind some of Foxglove's doubts and worries. The ending was a great way to cap off the story and complete the characterization of Foxglove. The second piece was also good, and the scene between the two in Whammy Bar's office is quite intense and well executed. The story does a better job of showing Loud Mouth's insecurity (something I feel the first story misses out on), but ultimately I felt the first story did a better job of delving deeper into understanding what makes the two characters tick.
Loud Mouth's Author
An excellent use of characterisation and some raw feelings really boosted a powerful piece. There was motive for both characters to act how they did and I felt like it created a really gripping story as Loud Mouth slowly worked out who the so-called 'security guard' was, and what his motives were. All in all, a better display of power and language than Foxglove.
Loud Mouth's Author
I have come to a conclusion: almost every author sticks closer to the character sheets of the other authors' OCs! This pairing is a very clear example of this. I think Foxglove's Author really nailed Loud Mouth in the first piece, but essentially left us with a very different view of Foxglove than what's in the profile. We know by the end of the story he's playing at being dumber than he is, but we don't know why. Similarly, I think Loud Mouth's Author really delivered the Foxglove in the OC profile, but only really showed the timid side of Loud Mouth - that character in the second story doesn't fit name 'Loud Mouth' at all.
So, both stories disappoint in that aspect. But as I remark above, this seems to be a recurring pattern in this competition.
In other respects, both stories are very well written and a pleasure to read, but where the second story shines brighter is in its raw emotional power, and that is why I chose it as the winner.
Foxglove's Author
Both are very well written stories, but I liked the way the first story danced around what Foxglove actually did and I felt the first did a better job at characterizing both OCs.
Foxglove's Author
This was actually another tough choice so I just went with which one I got more of a kick out of.
Foxglove's Author
Loud Mouth's Author
This one was really close, in a good way. These characters work fantastically well together. They both have enough built-in conflict that we can get stories like these, where they either work together to comfort each other (Foxglove's story) or work against each other (Loud Mouth's story). I'm very tempted to change my vote, but I know I would immediately want to change it back, and then back again. I'm picking Loud Mouth's because I like the conflict between the two characters better than I like the pure conversation from the first story.
Foxglove's author impressed me once again with his/her ability to dig deep into a character's motivations and psyche and use that to grow their dialogue. I always knew Loud Mouth had all the right ingredients as an OC to have character depth like this, but it took a very careful author to put it all together in the right way. Taking her backstory of leaving radio to become a motivational speaker and giving it detail and life was brilliant, but I don't like that all the character growth was focused on Foxglove again. I do appreciate Loud Mouth encouraging him to keep doing what he's doing, for the right reasons, (but I don't agree that she ignores or is ignorant that what he's doing is probably illegal) and I like that he took the toy at the end, but the story suffered from lack of action. It's not bad that the author focuses so much on dialogue because they obviously have a knack for making it relatable, but two stories in a row that all take place in one scene of dialogue is too much. I also felt like the dialogue dragged on the "Well, you know's" a bit too long. And I think the nuances of Loud Mouth's style of speaking was a little too written out for a character without a specified accent like Foxglove's.
Loud Mouth's story might have laid on the angst a little thick, but it worked. The fact that Loud Mouth was already pouting about her life when she went through the ordeal with Foxglove made the angst afterward that much stronger. And the way Foxglove handled the situation and reflected on his feelings afterward are exactly what I expect from his character sheet. There was a greater focus on both characters' dilemmas instead of just one, and the writing was less distracting. Still, a very close call, and I would be just as happy to see Foxglove go on as long as the author learns from the first two rounds as I would be for Loud Mouth to win this. Good job to both authors.
(See, Barraku? I can be impartial.)
Loud Mouth's Author
Foxglove's Author
Good dialogue, and good interaction between the characters. In reading it, I felt like I was just one step removed from what was going on, but it felt nautral--it actually gave the feeling that I was there with them. I think part of it was having a good sense what not to say.
Loud Mouth's Author
Your entry had a much stronger emotional punch, and that's what gave it the edge. It was a bold choice to put your OC in a bad spot, especially since she didn't get the upper hoof. This felt like a moment in a coming-of-age movie, and I think that worked especially well since she was earlier pretending to be a DJ, then she got the hard slap of reality. Very well done.
Loud Mouth's author
I think that the first story was more of an interesting read, but the second one did a better job of characterizing the OCs.
Loud Mouth's Author
While Foxglove's author's entry was charming as all get out, Loud's author's entry was much more emotionally powerful and, I think, handled Loud Mouth's lack of confidence better as a crippling flaw then Foxglove's author did as it was pretty much non-existent in that entry.
Foxglove's author
It's horrible that I have to vote for one of these over the other. I went with Foxglove because he says it all with a delicate touch. I especially like how Loud Mouth's insecurity plays out as an undertone to her internal monologue. The ending is nice, too.
It's funny, because Loud Mouth's approach is more my style. It just lets it all go and goes for the feels. But Foxglove's skill is undeniable.
Loud Mouth's Author
This is an odd thing to start off with, but there's a funny thing about Foxglove's author's entry: In spite of the more nuanced use of language in the narration, there were some odd quirks to it that had me misinterpreting and having to reevaluate it. Little places where the meaning of a word or phrase in context had me thinking the sentence was saying one thing, when in fact it was using alternate interpretations of those words/phrases that didn't spring as readily to my mind, even if I doubt the same is true for everyone. Some examples of a bunch concentrated right at the start, which hurt the opening for me slightly:
Skimming that phrase, it read like a weird way of saying "words that she had yet to use". Side note: how are 'raucous' and 'gratifying' any more or less complex than 'boisterous'?
"and she did, too"
"The building had round corners rather than sharp"
"the space around her person"
That didn't affect my decision much in the grand scheme of things, but it was very silly. That second-to-last example is an apt demonstration of some of the problems with passive voice, even. There were some actual errors, too, but they were pretty minor/inconsistent—stuff like forgetting a period, treating one or two actions as dialogue tags, leaving out a word, etc.
If I had an issue with Foxglove's author's entry, it was probably the nature of the dialogue. It was markedly slow (with very… very many ellipses…), and parts of the exchange left me very confused. This segment was a big one, for example:
Sorry for all the space these quotes are taking up…
In areas like that, it started getting very difficult for me to follow what they were talking about. On that note, it sometimes felt like the dialogue was going on for too long in the same patterns, because clearly the characters themselves (or Loud, at least) weren't fully following the meaning of the discussion. In my head, there was this spiral of "How confused is Loud?" –> "What does she think Foxglove is talking about?" –> "What is Foxglove talking about?" –> "Man, this exchange is confusing." –> "How confused is Loud?" It wasn't altogether pleasant, even if I'm sure some measure of confusion was meant to be conveyed, since this was a multi-layered conversation with one party unaware of the fact. As this story was mostly dialogue past the intro, I felt like said dialogue could've done with some tightening up.
Apart from that, the plot was well selected—if simple—and the characterization (Loud Mouth's in particular) was very enjoyable. That said, the characterization of Foxglove seemed to rely a bit overmuch on our prior knowledge of the character for my liking—the whole second layer to the conversation wouldn't have been there if I didn't go in knowing what his deal was, even. And without that, there would have been a lot less to the story.
That certainly wasn't an issue in Loud Mouth's author's entry. Both characters there came across pretty much fully (though Foxglove's speech patterns were a little weak, I guess, but I don't really care much about that specific point—plus you could wave it away as him "putting on airs"), and moreover, the depiction of neither character was overbearing in the way it delivered their background info, in spite of the quantity delivered.
Like I said towards the start, Foxglove's author was certainly the more creative of the two in terms of language used, but it didn't feel necessary in Loud Mouth's author's entry, so I wasn't much impacted by that fact. The editing was somewhat better than in Foxglove's, the plot more active, the dialogue easier to follow, and et cetera. While aspects felt better in the Foxglove piece, the Loud Mouth piece just felt more solid.
Really, I think my only complaint is the specific plot point of Loud Mouth's crushing guilt at the end. What would be wrong with telling a cop what happened? She literally has the name, physical description, occupation, and everything of the one who stole Whammy's jewelry, and no motivation that I can imagine not to tell—she doesn't know about Foxglove's situation, so as far as she's concerned, he's a scary criminal who stole without remorse from her close friend. I like that their encounter had such a strong impression on her, but the particular impression chosen just doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me.
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Loud Mouth's author
This was another hard one. The narration in Foxglove's is great, and the conversation flows naturally--I really like his explanation for Loud's motivational speaker work, too. However, the emotional tension in Loud's is what won me over. Loud;s story did a great job at selling the emotions through actions and letting us figure out what was going on, rather than just saying it outright.
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I can see your point about the cops, but I'm not quite sure I agree. During the whole confrontation thing, Foxglove seemed rather threatening, and rather imposing--I can understand why someone might not want to go to the cops right away, for fear of retaliation.
...But then again, during the last scene, it says that Loud isn't scared of Foxglove... so maybe you're right. Hm.
Loud Mouth
For reasons already stated by others
Loud Mouth's Author
Purely for the emotional tension. Without it, this would have been a hands-down vote for Foxglove.
Hey guys. Quick announcement that Foxglove's author is withdrawing from the contest for personal reasons. Loud Mouth's author advances to the next round by default, although it seemed like the vote was favoring them anyway, so this hopefully shouldn't mess with anything.
I pick bad times to announce these sorts of things.
Yeah, I would have voted for Loud Mouth, too. :B
Misplaced Enthusiasm
Liked: The ending, what he did to her specifically.
Disliked: All the ‘um’ and ‘ah’ in the dialogue felt very natural, but also made it kind of irritating to read.
Loud Mouth vs. Foxglove
Liked: I really got caught up in Loud Mouth’s self-doubts and recriminations.
Disliked: Honestly, can’t think of anything.