Tidy Till vs. Falcata - Winner: Falcata (by DQ)
Struck-Through - by Tidy Till's Author
Finally! Those two mares have been an irritation for sure, but...ahh, yes, that's over now.
Waiting for them to part ways after I engineered their meeting was definitely the wrong choice. Stubborn mares never left one another's side! I had to work in a way for both of them to meet with the ponies from the next branch of the bracket, but it was worth it.
They met, they fought, they all had dinner and got to know one another, and then she took him home. Now, I can just get rid of all of them while the winner's back is turned and move on to cleaning up the last branch!
Wow, I've lost a lot of time. I'll have to move all four of them into an encounter together with her, now. Shouldn't be too much of a hassle with how similar two of them already are. After this, though, no more idling. The only ones making it past tonight are the winners.
No exceptions.
I just have to tend to these first.
Dawn Gleam
Merry Weather
Tidy Till
Bibidi Boo
So long!
Dawn Gleam
Goodbye!
Merry Weather
And good...
*Tidy Till
...riddance?
Huh.
Out of ink.
Heh. Heh-heh. Ooooh-heeheeheehee!
I guess I'll just have to go and get some more.
I'll just set this little thing in motion for the next round and drop him in right...here! Perfect!
Those events will practically work themselves to my desired conflict on their own, leaving me to give this little loose end...
...my personal sendoff!
YAAAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!
Let the games begin!
There was darkness all around me, and I tumbled without reason. Formless shapes shifted about in all directions...
...my entire left side felt fuzzy. Then...
“TIDY!”
“Gah!”
...suddenly, floor.
I twitched for a few seconds, then, with some difficulty, I shook myself awake...
“Get it together, Tidy! Tight Shift needs you at the Front End, pronto!”
Only to become even more confused.
The red-orange pegasus mare frowned down on my prone form. Her messy, blond bangs bobbed as she heaved in and out, and her Rich's Barnyard Bargains uniform looked slightly rumpled from a recent hurried run. However, that wasn't the confusing bit.
“Rollback? Ugh, why're you...?”
“Lemme guess: you thought you had more time to nap on your lunch. Well, time's up. I don't care how much longer you've been working here than me. Tight's not gonna overlook you being half an hour coming back! Now get up!”
Defeated, I obeyed. She was right, and I was the one who was supposed to be training her, not the other way around.
We trotted up the aisles to the front in focused silence, and it wasn't long before I had taken my place at register #8. I settled into a comfortable stance and gave my register's conveyor belt a test crank with my magic just to be sure. As I flicked my sign around to show that I was open, I realized my head still felt a little foggy.
A stimulating shake later, which I felt from tip to tail, I tried to purge the last of my sleepiness from my system.
“Wow, I feel woozy. What day is it?”
Over on #6, Rollback stepped forward.
“Tidy. No. Don't even joke like that. Nightmare Night's already bad enough.”
That woke me up!
I looked to my right and finally noticed the time of day.
Or, should I say...night.
“What the...?!”
The main thoroughfare of Ponyville was decked out in full Nightmare Night spectacle. Spooky decorations, festive game booths, myriad costumed ponies, the whole shebang. The stage in front of Town Hall was a buzz of activity, as the pony in charge of delivering the Legend of Nightmare Moon to kickoff the event prepared her entrance. Naturally, all the town's little Fright-or-Biters were lined up front and center to enjoy the show.
Occupying a bench a fair distance from the edge of the crowd were two mares. One a gold-coated pegasus whose silvery mane and tail were buttoned down into a bun and a braid respectively and the other a reddish-purple earth pony whose beige mane was cropped short with a bobtail to match, the two looked on as the foreign celebration kicked off.
They sat in companionable silence, neither having much to comment on the sight before them...
...that is, until the storyteller took the stage.
A series of small explosions released a blackened mist that hovered low, adding atmosphere, as a silhouette slowly materialized. The first, most immediately recognizable feature was a tall, pointed conical hat. Then the mare stepped forth from the obscuring smoke, showing off the dark blue, pumpkin-patterned cloak covering her deep violet coat; a tall, dark blue hat to match; and a black river of a mane that hid the upper half of her face and flowed down on either side of her muzzle.
The dark mare's horn lit up a bright amber as the legend came to life in her illusory floating images.
It was a few lines into the Mare of Ceremony's tale that the pegasus leaned forward and squinted, having finally found her voice.
“No...no, I must be dreaming.”
“What's going on, Kitty?”
Falcata, or “Kitty” according to her friend, let out a well used groan.
“Lucy. You know how I feel about that name.”
Loosestrife, otherwise known as “Lucy”, just chuckled and countered with a scoff.
“The day I stop calling you “Kitty” is the day the Witch of the Everfree rises from her accursed grave. Also, you'd have to stop calling me “Lucy” first, and we both know how likely that I- Whoa!”
Loosestrife suddenly found herself hooked around the shoulders by Falcata's good foreleg and tossed behind a nearby bush. She was joined shortly afterward by her scowling aggressor.
“So it is to be a duel, is it?! Come at me! You will see the full worth of my tribe brought to bear! I shall-”
“Loosestrife! Stay your hoof...lower your volume...and take a long, hard look at that mare on the stage.”
Loosestrife's mouth flew shut in an instant, and she quickly and silently righted herself and obeyed.
It wasn't long before her eyes began to widen.
“No...it can't be.”
“Despite our best efforts, it appears to be so. I don't know how she escaped that cave, but knowing her...and seeing this mare...”
“...around foals, no less!”
“Indeed. I don't dare doubt for a minute that she could've survived, even this far into the future from our time.”
“Neither do I. My old team never fully discovered the true extent of her capabilities. Nevertheless, this sort of unnatural longevity does certainly fit to my memory of her.”
Falcata nodded.
For a time, the two watched the familiar dark mare's performance intently, studying her actions. Falcata unconsciously squeezed the stump of old left foreleg.
“So, Strategist, what's the plan?”
Loosestrife smiled.
“Separate her from the foals, take her down, capture her, bring her to the regal authorities of this land, and politely insist that she be given her due for her crimes. However, none of that will be possible without a certain measure of stealth.”
“THERE YOU ARE!”
The two scheming mares jumped straight up from the shock, Falcata's wings affording her slightly more hang time than her co-conspirator. They turned to face the unexpected interruption, only to find a unicorn in a very loud, very pink, blocky costume.
“There's my two favorite time-tossed titans! Happy Nightmare Night! I see you're enjoying the opening ceremony! Why you're watching from behind a bush is beyond me, though. I mean, it's almost like you're- OH MY GOSH!”
Her second outburst caught Loosestrife and Falcata, as well as her own piebald-coated earth pony shopping buddy off-guard. Though that was probably more due to her horn sparking off a neon blue burst of aimless magic than from just her sudden rise in tone.
The mare's Shocking Pink Joy Boy Hoof-Held Gaming System™ costume squeaked and rattled about, not lending its owner any subtlety as she dashed a few paces forward and gawked at the dark unicorn conducting the ceremony. It was at that moment, as the black and orange image of Nightmare Moon dived into the crowd, that the mare running the show leaped up and began floating in the air in a grand display of magic to cap off the legend.
“WOW! Minnie, did you see that! This is way better than last year, and that zebra was no slouch! And I just love her costume! She's really got the 'Evil-But-Not-Really-Evil Witch' motif nailed down! I wonder what she'll think of mine!”
With a flick of her muted pink magic, the grayish unicorn flipped a sliding switch on the left shoulder of her garish costume, and a screen on her chest lit up with a two-toned green tint. After a few seconds, a lively tune trickled out of a speaker on her right shoulder.
“It even plays 'Tetrominix'!”
There was a beat of time where the only sounds to be heard were the ones from the over-excited unicorn's costume. It was ended by the sound of Minnie's facehoof and a single copper-toned ring.
Minnie was decked out in blue-collared cowbell. the source of the ring, and a novelty cow-horned hairband. She stomped her hoof back to the ground and voiced her opinion.
“Caps Lock, I'm sure she's quite busy being the Nightmare Night Legend Giver for tonight. If you run up to her now, musical as you are, you'll just break the atmosphere of the holiday for the foals. I'm sure she'll be here later on tonight.”
Falcata took the opportunity presented her to drop an unsavory bombshell.
“Minnie, there's a possibility that those foals might not be.”
“WHAT?!”
Caps Lock's costume let out a sorrowful sound.
“Falcata, this isn't funny! This is not the way to play a joke, or...or a prank or anything lighthearted of that nature! I've known you for a few months now, and you've always been terrible at it, and...”
Minnie froze for a fraction of a second before slowly gasping as her blue eyes shrank to the size of pinpricks.
“...and you truly believe this is going to happen, don't you? That those foals are in danger?”
Falcata nodded.
Minnie nodded back, albeit more slowly.
She then stepped over to Caps Lock and put a hoof on the bulky costume's left shoulder, turning off the game sounds before turning back around to face her friend.
“What can we do to help?”
I shouldn't be here.
I may not know what my true Special Talent is yet, but I know for sure it isn't this.
It's a fact that I've been acutely aware of for a long time.
It's a feeling that never goes away, a sense of wrongness that follows me every day I'm building a talent that isn't my own Special Talent.
It's incredibly stressful, feeling utterly wrong every minute of the work day and not reflecting that emotion to my customers.
Even more so, to prevent them from seeing my stress, managing said stress, and still provide to them the best customer service experience of their day, Celestia knows how I've not been reduced to a quivering wreck after these eight years.
Just about the only thing that's made it possible is a skill I've had to develop and constantly rely on throughout my time here.
Retention.
Product Codes, Customer names and faces, conversations, Clock In and Clock Out times; I've had to keep it all locked up inside my head. I've had to be ready to rattle off anything at a moment's notice with a smile on my face.
“Hey, Tidy! What's the code for cucumbers?”
Ho there! 4 a sight's divine!
Bibidi spies an 0-ty line!
You! Cashier! I've 6-ed your shelves!
Now, these pumpkins won't 2 themselves!
And then things like this happen.
“It's '4062', Rollback.”
I know for a fact that I've never met anypony named “Bibidi” or heard any of that conversation before, but there it is, mingling with my other memories.
I'm just glad that was an easy one.
“Hey, Tidy! How about beets?”
Horseapples.
What is this look upon 4 face?! Am I...not welcome in this place?
M-MM! Delicious~! Oh, yes 5-deed! I believe I have found...all I need!
Oh! You're up! Good 3-ing, there. I've had just enough time to prepare!
You've been a great help to me, more 9 you know, so since I've had my dinner.....IT'S TIME FOR THE SHOW!!
Well, whoever she was, she's a whiz with a rhyme.
“That's '4539'.”
“Thanks!”
“No prob'.”
Though, I admit, her voice isn't bad to listen to. Whoever this was, she sure styled herself as a total ham, but in a good way.
I kinda wish I could see her again. That is, if she's really not just in my head.
But I can't leave here now. I've got a job to do.
“Hey, Tidy! Granny Smith!”
“Where?”
“Gotcha! Haha! I mean the fruit, silly! What's the code?”
I've been belligerent, vile and sore; against your sanity I waged war.
I pondered what would bring you tears after I spied the first of your fears.
In line, I gave you much to endure, to draw out all your terrors pure.
But in my haste I failed to see. What frightened you was not just me, but what I then did represent. All this, to you, I now repent.
A-
“Tidy?”
Is that?
“Hello~! Equestria to Tidy Till!”
Who was she?
“Tidy, what's going on?”
Where is she now?
“Tidy, I need that code! I don't remember it!”
Was she really real? And if so, did something happen between us?
“You know what? Fine! Don't help me! I'll just look it up on my own! Thanks for nothing!”
Nothing?
No, that can't be it. Something happened.
Something definitely happened for her to have said that.
“Uh, sir?”
But what? What am I missing?
“Sir, could you please ring up my pumpkins?”
Pumpkins?
...pumpkins?
“BOO!!”
“Whoa!”
In an instant, my back was on the floor once again.
That moment happened after I clocked out for Nightmare Night!
But it's still Nightmare Night.
But I'm still scheduled to continue working.
But I already clocked out!
…
I gazed around me at the stunned faces. All of them looking in my direction, as if I were some madpony. I realized in that moment, that I didn't recognize any of their faces.
Not a one.
They're all strangers.
I suddenly realized that no amount of internal monologue could do this justice.
“What am I doing here!?”
This feels wrong!
I shouldn't be here!
Without another word, I turned and galloped away from my register!
“TIDY! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!?!”
A not-so-jolly green giant of an earth pony stallion, clad in a navy suit, white undershirt and yellow tie, blocked my path to the exit.
“That's my thought exactly, Mr. Tight Shift, Sir!”
I quickly dislodged one of the large panes of glass that made up the long front window of the store, pulled it in front of me, and plopped it down right in my Supervisor's path.
He balked, and I jumped out the window!
Once out and into Ponyville proper, a flood of memories washed over me. The scare, the castle, the mage, the brawler, the fight and the dinner with all those viscous, black animals. All of it rushed back in an instant, and I knew I had to find her.
If this weirdness was happening to me, I couldn't begin to imagine what was going on with her.
“Hold on, Bibidi Boo, I'm on my way!”
It had been a simple matter for Miss Caps Lock to distract the foals away from this witch, and with Miss Minnie Milk watching for anything suspicious that might interrupt us and Loosestrife watching her back from the shadows, Falcata had a prime opportunity to confirm her suspicions.
"So, Mistress of Ceremonies, or should I say 'Bibidi Boo'? Let's not have any games, now. Are you or are you not the Witch of the Everfree Forest?!"
The dark mare smiled.
"That is quite the brazen claim. Might I have the accuser's name?"
"I am Falcata of the Curved Blade. If you are indeed the Witch, then you have much to answer for, none the least of which is this."
Falcata presented her useless stump of a leg for further emphasis.
"Hmm~ Nope! You don't ring a bell! So why don't you just go to-"
"THERE YOU ARE!!"
Mane wild, clothes torn, and covered in minor cuts and bruises, a unicorn stallion threw himself into the clearing.
"Bibidi Boo! Am I glad to see you! Do you remember? It's me! Tidy Till!"
Falcata stood stock still, slack-jawed and buggy-eyed, and she couldn't bring herself to change that. Here was something so unexpected, so against her vision for this meeting, that its very existence threatened to bring her mind to a standstill.
Who was this stallion?!
What was he to the Witch?
Who cares?! He's in danger! Get him out of there!
I found her!
I found her, and she was so surprised that her hat fell off!
She pulled her bangs away, and I saw glorious recognition in those brilliant orange eyes!
"T-Tidy?"
"Stallion! MOVE!"
Uh-oh, somepony's not happy!
I turned and saw the tall, gold-coated, three-legged pegasus advancing on Bibidi and I. A highly intimidating curved sword glinted in the moonlight, and ill intent was practically written all over her face.
"H-Hey! Hold on! Let's all calm down here."
"You dare to advise anything of me!? You are in danger, colt! Back away from her!"
"I'll say we're in danger! Why don't you just put down the sword, and-"
"I WILL NOT STAY MY BLADE FROM ITS PURPOSE!"
Okay, now, she's seriously scaring me!
"I have been taunted, beaten, maimed, cursed, torn from my time, and brought into this backwards world where mares and stallions alike fret over the most frivolous of things! All! Because of that! Accursed! Witch! If she will not see justice, then I will show her my wrath!"
This is not good! C'mon! Think of something!
"Hey! I mean, this time can't be all bad! Maybe she did you a favor...?"
"Favor?! SHE TOOK MY LEG FROM ME!!"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the slightest of frowns on Bibidi's face.
No good! Think of something else!
"Okay, so she's done some bad things, but she's not the same mare now as she was then! Can't you see that!"
"I see nothing but a blight on all ponykind, and a fool. If you will not remove yourself, then you shall surely share her fate!"
Oh, come on!
"Isn't there anything good that came from you coming to this time?! New friends? Kindred spirits? Even just a pal!?"
Minnie Milk
"No!"
Loosestrife
"NO!"
Caps Lock
"NO!!"
Suddenly, I saw a drastically different mare before me. Gone was the dutiful warrioress barely holding herself back. Now the only thing I saw in her eyes was a murderous glare.
She snorted aggression every breath now, and she renewed her advance.
I looked to Bibidi, and saw in her a mirror to my own confusion.
Her eyes met mine.
I've known her for a day at most, and here I was, risking my life for her.
She offered me a break from my boring routine.
-SLICE!-
...and I paid for it with my life.
Falcata and Tidy Till go Diehard - by Falcata's Author
It was an ordinary afternoon in Ponyville, and Tidy Till was enjoying it immensely. The tedium of cashiering was tiring for the purple stallion, but his grey-blue eyes were bright as he bagged the produce for his current customer. The unicorn thanked him, and Tidy responded with a smile and a wave.
Humming softly, Tidy ran his hoof through his almost completely white mane, excepting for a single black stripe running through it, and awaited for his next customer to come to his register. Barnyard Bargains had quite a lot of ponies today, but most of them were still picking out their various items.
Just then, a female earth pony with a coat of orange and wearing a black cloak trotted up to his counter. Tidy blinked. Oddly enough, the mare didn’t seem to have anything. Did she want to ask for help?
Oh dear.
Tidy swallowed. He hated moments like this, for secretly, the stallion was a blank flank, without a talent to call his own. While he was good at cashiering, it was not his area of expertise. He had only managed to keep his job through long hours of practice, and often took too-long breaks, just to get away from the stress of dealing with customers.
Steeling himself, Tidy deployed his practiced “tactical smile.”
“Miss, how may I help you today?” asked Tidy, his tone the definition of pleasantness.
The earth pony didn’t respond and Tiny blinked again. Okay, this was bizarre, Tiny thought: Why was she reaching under her cloak? Why was she producing a crossbow from under her cloak? Why was she pointing the weapon at my head?
She is pointing a crossbow at my head.
“This is a robbery! Show me the money, and the Zap Apple Jam!”
Tiny kept smiling. In fact, his smile widened to almost disproportionate widths, even as ponies around him began to scream.
Inside he was panicking.
What do I do what do I do what do I do? Tidy couldn’t move, he couldn’t think. Fear suffused every part of his being. All he could do was what he had trained himself to do.
“Is there anything I can do to help you, miss?” squeaked Tiny helplessly.
The earth pony’s dark eyes somehow turned cold as ice. “Wrong answer, buddy.” With that she pressed the firing lever—
Except that the string of her crossbow was cut, causing the coiled steel wire to whip back and slash the pony across the face. Tidy’s eyes widened as the robber mare howled in pain.
“Serves thee right for trying to disrupt the peace of this time,” spat a cold voice. Tidy turned from the writhing robber to the speaker. She was a lean and muscled gold-yellow pegasus, hovering slightly above the ground. Her silver-grey mane was crafted into a bun, while her tail was braided. Her blue eyes were hard as she watched the robber whimper.
Oh, and she was holding a really sharp and shiny sword in her right foreleg, which was the only foreleg she had.
“Are you well, sir?” asked Tidy’s rescuer, glancing at him with bright blue eyes. Tidy nodded numbly, and the mare smiled. “That is good.” Turning to the now moaning robber, the mare grimaced. “Get up thou filthy swine, lest you wish to taste the sting of my blade.”
The earth pony, an ugly bleeding gash across her nose, sneered at Tidy and the pegasus, and yelled. “GET THEM!”
Eyes wide, Tidy turned around to see several other ponies in the store throw off their cloaks and produce swords, clubs, and crossbows. Everyday shoppers that had been frozen as the three-legged pegasus had apprehended the first robber now screamed and ran for their lives, only to be caught and herded by other robbers.
“By Starswirl’s flaming pants,” cursed the three-legged pegasus. Sheathing her sword, she lunged at Tidy, who “meeped” and froze as she picked him up with surprising strength and dashed through the store.
“Clerk! Tell me where we can hide!” demanded the pegasus as she swerved down the dairy section. They were met by two pegasus stallions with crossbows. Eyes wide, Tidy’s carrier folded her wings and the pair dropped to the ground, as crossbow bolts whizzed over their heads. Tidy screamed as they fell, but his “rescuer” opened her wings at the last minute and they took flight again, racing down the opposite direction from the robbers.
When he had finally caught his breath, Tidy screamed. “I don’t know!”
His rescuer grimaced. “What dost thou mean by “I don’t know?" Place of safe refuge, tell me!”
Teeth chattering, ears flattened against the heart-rending screams in the grocery shop, Tidy wailed. “The staff bathroom! Turn left here, go up the stairs and turn right!”
The pegasus swerved, then abruptly pulled up and swerved again. Tidy whimpered as his world briefly turned sideways and his stomach took a plunge, followed by another world tilt. But now, straight ahead, not far away, was the red windowless door to the washroom.
Upon seeing the stallion’s symbol on the bathroom door, something clicked in Tiny’s head. “Wait! We can’t both go in there!” he protested.
“What? Will it not fit us?” asked the mare gruffly.
“Not that, you’re a mare!" A rather pretty one, in fact. Tidy shook his head. He had to focus on the important stuff! “That’s the stallion’s washroom. We can’t both go in there!”
Panting, the mare narrowed her eyes, but to Tidy’s horror, she did not stop and kept flying straight.
“Oh by Princess Platinum’s shining flank, why are modern ponies such prissy-pants?” hissed the mare as she smashed through the bathroom door.
Tidy screamed as he was unceremoniously released, his momentum carrying him head over hooves to the other side of the bathroom. His “rescuer” dropped to the ground in a fighting stance and galloped back to the door, opening it a crack.
“We are lucky. It appears nopony is following us,” said the mare in a hushed voice.
Rising his his feet, Tidy straightened his navy blue vest and white shirt, his eyes wild. “LUCKY! WE—” Tidy found himself promptly tackled to the ground, the mare standing over him, with narrowed eyes.
“Quiet! Dose thou want us to be found?” hissed the pegasus.
Tidy shook his head fervently, and the pegasus hopped back over him, and scooted back to the door, where she resumed her place, looking through the crack between it and the doorframe.
“We will have to rescue the prisoners the robbers have taken. What is your name?” asked the mare.
“Tidy Till. What do you mean we’re going to rescue—”
“My name is Falcata, and of course we shall rescue the prisoners.” Falcata frowned at Tidy. “You are a stallion of Equestria, correct?”
Tidy spluttered. “Well, yes—”
“Then surely thou does not wish thy fellow ponies to suffer, right?” asked Falcata, her eyes shooting Tidy an armor-piercing glare.
Tidy swallowed, and his gaze dropped to his hooves. There were mares and foals in the superstore, and he was almost certain that the robbers had taken them as hostage. Sure, Ponyville’s shoppers annoyed him most days. They were quirky, had hair-trigger tempers and were prone to bouts of silliness which all worked to make his job all the harder, but he liked to see their smiles as they left all the same.
But he also knew he couldn’t do anything to help them. He was just a blank-flank cashier, not like the dashing, sword-swinging mare in front of him. She was brave, and had no fear, unlike him.
“Of course not.”
“Then thou canst help.” Tidy glanced at Falcata, who had trotted up to him. “Tell me, what is thy special talent?”
Tidy stiffened and unconsciously pulled up his khaki pants with a hoof. “Nothing that would be useful.”
Falcata hop-stepped forward, her single hoof landing on the floor with a clack. “We will never know if thy talent is useful if thou keepest it hidden. Tell me, Tidy, we do not have much time!”
Tidy shook his head and looked away from Falcata. “It’s no use, Falcata. Let’s just wait until the authorities arrive. Even with my help, you can’t take on ten robbers.”
“There are twenty. I counted,” said Falcata in a deadpan tone. Sighing, Falcata used her wing to push Tidy’s face to face her, forcing him to look at her. “Tidy, you are being very brave stallion now, simply by daring to hide thyself from the brigands. I simply need thee to be a little braver and tell me thy talent.”
Shaking, Tidy found his eyes drifting back to his flank, where he knew his bare fur was hidden only by a layer of khaki colored cloth. A mark of his uselessness, his inability to even attain the most basic sign of growth that everypony past adolescence had. He couldn’t tell Falcata, she’d just point and laugh.
“But... I can’t!”
Falcata exhaled exasperatedly and took a deep breath, momentarily closing her eyes. “All right, can thou at least answer questions about thy store and its produce?” asked Falcata.
Tidy blinked. He could do that. He answered questions about their products all day. He could do this. Taking a deep breath, Tidy nodded.
“What is this Zap Apple Jam that the brigands were demanding from thee?” asked Falcata.
“It’s our special product. Only Barnyard Bargains stocks it, and it’s wildly popular.” Tidy frowned. “Wait, they said they wanted Zap Apple Jam?”
Falcata nodded and Tidy felt the blood drain from his face. “Oh no.”
“What is the trouble?”
Tidy, pale and shivering, turned to Falcata. “We don’t sell Zap Apple Jam in this store!”
Falcata’s eyes widened. “What?”
Tidy Till nodded, and got up, pacing around the bathroom. “Ponyville is where Zap Apple Jam is made by the Apple Family. Therefore, as part of our boss’s Filthy Rich’s deal with the Apples, our branch will never stock it so the shoppers will go to the Apple farm to buy it! If the robbers find out—”
“They will become very angry,” finished Falcata, every word ringing like a death knell.
Tidy cringed and whimpered.
“Oh dear.”
“Oh dear? This is a disaster! We must rescue the prisoners now!” Falcata dashed behind Tidy Till and pushed him to the door. “Where are the weapons in this store?”
Tidy shook his head rapidly, “We don’t have any weapons in this store!”
Falcata stopped and glared at Tidy. “Thy store’s sign says 'Barnyard Bargains, Everything you Can Ever Want For a Bargain Price,' do they not?” Tidy cringed as she bared her teeth, and snarled. “Is that a lie, Tidy Till?”
Tidy Till had turned as white as the walls in the washroom. His mind supplied him with this equation:
Loss of confidence in customer = loss of revenue = loss of job = homeless = starving = I’M SCREWED!
“Barnyard Bargains has something that every customer wants. We definitely have weapons in this store!” stammered Tidy, not knowing what in Equestria was he saying.
Falcata grinned, even as Tidy “Then lead me to them!”
“These are not weapons.”
Tidy blanched as Falcata replaced the plastic-encased kitchen knife back onto its rack. The pair were in the storage rooms of Barnyard Bargains, where Tidy had been certain Falcata would be able to find some weapons she’d like among the kitchen appliances. Turning to Tidy, Falcata frowned. “Where are the weapons, Tidy?”
Spluttering, Tidy pointed to the boxes of sharp and deadly kitchen implements. “But how can these knives not be considered weapons?” asked Tidy.
Falcata pursed her lips. “They may be called such, but they are too flimsy for our need.” Falcata sighed and picked up a knife. “I suppose we must make do with them — what is that?”
Tidy turned around to follow Falcata’s hoof and found it pointing with her wing to the cast iron frying pans wrapped and ready to be hung on racks in the main store.
“Falcata, those are frying pans,” said Tidy.
A smile making its way to her face, Falcata pointed down further the storage shelves. “And those?” asked Falcata as she pointed further down the aisle.
“That is where we store spices. Barnyard Bargains offers a wide range of seasonings that include everything—”
“This is excellent, Tidy!” exclaimed Falcata softly, as they still were on alert for the robbers.. Trotting over she grabbed a frying with her mouth and turned to the very puzzled Tidy.
“Mmftake eet,” mumbled Falcata. Tidy, frowning, took the pan and wiped the saliva off of the rim with his shirt.
“But these are just kitchen implements and seasonings, Falcata.”
The three legged pegasus shook her head. “No, these are arms that an army, particularly an earth pony one, would yearn to have.” Glancing around, Falcata whispered to Tidy. “Now just follow my lead, and take as many spices as you can.”
“We want Zap Apple Jam and a million bits, or we start tickling these ponies to death!” roared the mare with the orange coat.
Deep inside Barnyard Bargains on the first floor, beside the manager’s office, ponies quavered as the leader of the robbers shouted into the microphone.
The Ponyville police, despite being horribly outmatched, were up against the exterior walls of Barnyard bargains, crouching behind riot shields. Despite being brave enough to poke their heads into the window, they were basically paralyzed. The Elements of Harmony weren’t available to help, not even their baby dragon. Ponyville was such a small town, nopony had really thought a hostage crisis would develop here of all places.
To put it simply, the police were helpless.
“Thy town's militia have guts as soft and feeble as a newborn foal’s bottom,” quipped Falcata, as she peeked over the edge of the overhanging second floor, which the robbers had not occupied. “At least the brigands are not expressing their anger on the prisoners.”
Tidy poked his head out and cringed as he took in twenty ponies of various species crouched or scattered throughout the aisles. Now that he had the time to examine the band that had done this, Tidy’s could now see the array of weapons they were armed with. They had crossbows, daggers, swords, maces, axes… all of which were gleaming brightly.
It was enough to turn his insides turn to mush.
“We can’t do this! We just can’t do this!” stammered Tidy, squeezing his knees together out of sheer terror.
Turning around, Falcata jumped up slightly, grabbed Tidy’s shoulder with her remaining front leg, and looked him in the eye.
“Tidy, I need thee to aid me!” hissed Falcata.
His eyes flickering left and right, Tidy backed away, but Falcata didn’t let go and walked with him. “Can’t I just sit this one out?” he begged.
Her eyes wide, Falcata pushed her face so close to Tidy’s they almost bumped noses. “I cannot do this alone, Tidy, I need thy help.”
Tidy shook his head. “No you don’t! You’re a soldier who’s probably faced a cockatrice and killed a couple of witches in your heyday!” To Tidy’s puzzlement Falcata flinched and turned away from him when he said that.
Confused, but thinking the crazy pegasus would relent, Tidy continued. “I’m just a cashier, and not a great one at that. Just go out there and be the hero. I’ll just find a corner—”
Falcata slowly turned so that she faced Tidy, who found his voice trailing off as he met her moist eyes.
“Tidy, I cannot save them.” Falcata wiggled the little stump of her left leg. “Not like this.”
Tidy swallowed and his eyes dropped again. Okay, she had a good point, but he didn’t know. He’d never done anything like this before, and he was scared. They had weapons, but how were he and a crippled swordpony going to defeat twenty brigands?
“Tidy, please?” whispered Falcata.
Tidy looked up and stared. Falcata looked… vulnerable. He suddenly could feel how heavily she was leaning on his shoulder, due to her missing leg. He could also see her pursed lips and pleading eyes.
It then hit Tidy that Falcata, swashbuckling pegasus soldier and improviser of weapons, was afraid, too.
Somehow, that comforted him.
“I’ll try,” replied Tidy, not quite recognizing the words that came from his own mouth.
A small smile burst onto Falcata’s features. “Thank you. Now, um, do you mind helping me down?”
“What?” asked Tidy.
A light blush came to Falcata’s cheeks. “I will not be able to set my hoof on the ground without tripping, unless thou holdest me up.”
Tidy’s face started to burn.
“Oh um, okay, just let me…” Tidy pressed his right leg under Falcata’s chest, allowing her to release her hold on him and put her right leg down.
Falcata smiled. “Thank you, Tidy.” Then her lips hooked in a cunning grin. “Now, here is the plan…”
The leader of the group, the orange mare, winced as she rubbed her bandaged nose. She was feeling rather tense, but pretty good in general. The police were still pinned down and it appeared the mayor of Ponyville was acquiescing to their Zap Apple Jam demand, but they apparently were having trouble getting a million bits.
There had been the complication of that annoying pegasus who cut her crossbow and ran away, but her minions couldn’t find her, so they must have left. Still, this operation was going quite smoothly.
Any satisfaction the brigand leader had felt, though, was instantly vanquished when a massive red cloud began to descend over the ground floor of the store.
“What in tartarus?” snapped the robber leader. Turning her head upwards, her lips curled back in a menacing sneer.
There was that blasted three-legged pegasus, her teeth clenching a sackcloth, from which the red powder poured. Oddly enough, she was wearing a makeshift cloth mask that looked like it had been ripped from a cloak, and cheap swimming goggles.
At this point though, the robber did not care. Grabbing her re-strung crossbow, the mare yelled.
“Get her!”
Falcata grimaced and dived as soon as she heard the yell. Dropping the bag, Falcata rolled over reversed her direction and dived away from the hostages. Crossbow bolts and thrown javelins cut through the air behind her as she tore down toward the ground.
A robber met her as she leveled off. His axe raised, the stallion leered at her. Falcata raised her sword, prepared to block.
But then the stallion sneezed and as he blinked his eyes watered. Rubbing furiously at his eyes, the robber howled as hot cayenne pepper, black pepper and all manner of irritating spices got into his eyes, stuck up his nose and inflamed his taste buds.
It made him very easy prey for Falcata, who delivered a ear-ringing blow with the pommel of her sword. Not stopping, the pegasus tore onward to the next robber.
“Tidy, where art thou?” muttered Falcata as she came up to the next robber.
There were six robbers guarding the hostages. It was a fair number, but now they were under assault from the highly irritating dust cloud. Half-blinded, crying, and truly regretting their involvement in this, the ponies were scratching at their eyes.
They didn’t notice Tidy Till peeking out from behind the aisle, wearing goggles and a makeshift mask, and raising his frying pan.
Trembling, Tidy swallowed hard, and hesitated. Could he do this? The robbers were helpless right now, so he could save the hostages, but doubt filled his mind.
Then one of the robbers noticed him, “Oi, who are you—”
CLONG! Went the frying pan as Tidy, in a fit of panic, knocked him out. This galvanized the rest of his companions, who came charging at the cashier. But blinded as they were, they seemed to totter and move about in slow motion.
This let Tidy deal with them rather easily. With five more hits, the ponies were down for the count.
“Go Mister Till!” cried one of the foals happily.
Tidy found himself grinning under his mask as he trotted forward and grabbed a knife to free the ponies. Somehow, in spite of his fears, things were going to plan.
Falcata charged through the spice cloud, her eyes scanning the aisles. She had taken out thirteen ponies through various means, but the leader was still left. Where was she?
Suddenly, pain exploded in her wing, and Falcata cried out as she saw the crossbow bolt in her wing. Her teeth clenched, the pegasus tried to land, but her high speed and missing leg made it impossible. She hit the ground, fell onto her stump and skidded along the waxed floor.
Groaning, Falcata struggled to get up, but her missing leg made it impossible to do so, and she was forced to drag herself along the floor, hoping that the robber leader wouldn’t be able to find her.
The crossbow tip that appeared in front of her eyes banished that hope.
The orange brigand leader sneered. “End of the line, you three-legged cripple. Any last words?”
Falcata froze but for a moment, before she took a breath and closed her eyes.
“#$&@! thou,” spat Falcata.
The robber mare snarled and squeezed the trigger.
CLANG!
Falcata’s eyes shot open as she saw the robber mare waver and fall over, to reveal Tidy Till, a frying pan in his hoof, panting through his mask.
“Falcata, you’re hurt!” gasped Tidy, dropping his weapon and kneeling at the pegasus’s side. Police and first aid attendants, wearing masks as well, were behind him as they surrounded Falcata.
“A flesh wound,” croaked Falcata, but she was smiling widely. “Thou art a hero, Tidy.”
The stallion rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Who, me? I’m just a cashier.” Lowering his hoof, Tidy clasped Falcata’s remaining forehoof. “It was you who helped me find my courage,” he spoke in a tender tone.
Falcata felt her cheeks warm up, and swallowed. “We were glad to be of assistance.” Averting her eyes, Falcata glanced back at Tidy. “Will thou visit us in the infirmary later?”
Beneath his mask, Tidy beamed and nodded. Of course he would.
The End
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Aw, why'd Redwood have to scrub out? Ah well.
Hey Obs, don't forget a "discussion" chapter!
OH SNAPS.
6160358
Long story short, lack of inspiration. I came up with lots of ideas for my entry, but ultimately, none of them did anything for me. I need to be motivated to write. I need to really like an idea. Especially going up against Evergreen, since at this point in the contest, I wasn't going to win if I didn't give it my all. The name connection was just too tenuous for me to build anything meaningful from, and nothing else about Evergreen really fired up my imagination. Not a fault of the character, I'm just saying that it didn't personally inspire me. So I didn't write an entry this round. What's the point if I'm just going to half-ass it?
My congratulations go out to Evergreen's author. Good luck to them in the next round.
Round three! Praise be to Obs!
Falcata's Author
I can really appreciate what Tidy Till's author was going for—it may be the most unique story in the contest so far. And while it was a lot of fun seeing such a cast of characters come together so naturally, it also spread every character rather thin, and the would-be focus characters didn't get much time together as a result. It's a story I would love to see outside of the contest, where the author is less restricted and can pull it off more smoothly, but as an entry here, it's just not enough.
Falcata's author took a more traditional approach, and I think it served them well this time. I really loved the interactions between Tidy and Falcata—they felt pretty natural. I only wish that the plot was less contrived. There's never a reason established for why this group of brigands is doing this other than Zap Apple Jam and money. The brigands themselves were kind of great, though, so I can forgive this somewhat. If you advance to the next round though, author, I think you could do with another round of editing. The writing quality was passable, but there were enough errors to take me out of the story a little—especially the few instances where you misspelled Tidy's name (Tiny). Otherwise, well done!
Falcata's Author
I appreciate what Tidy Till's author was trying to do, but honestly, the story is incomprehensible. It makes too many assumptions about knowing all of the OCs by appearance, very rarely mentions their names at first appearance and uses few dialogue tags, so it's basically impossible to figure out who is saying and doing what. Falcata's author, on the other hand, wrote a nice piece that does a good job at both showing off aspects from the OCs character sheets as well as building off the character sheets to characterize the two ponies further. It sets up a nice character arc for Tidy Till, and gives him some character development in the story. The biggest issue with the story, however, are the editing mistakes.
Falcata's Author
Tidy Till's author's story was a well crafted disaster of cameos and non-sequituri (kind of reminds me of Episode 100)
Falcata's author's story was a shabby, unedited story that really got into what make these two OCs tick.
Falcata's author gets my vote for at least sticking with the OC profiles and telling a mostly coherent story. However, I do think Tidy Till's author deserves some recognition for having tried to determine how many OCs could dance on the head of a pin. Obs! I propose you officially declare Tidy Till vs Falacata the "100th bout" in the OC Slamjam.
This Round!
This is the round I was looking forward to reading the most, and it did NOT disappoint.
Gosh, there's so much to talk about, I'm gonna have to save my vote comment for when I've composed myself.
Definitely coming back to this later. though.
Falcata's Author
Two very "wtf" stories, but at least Falcata's is coherent. I still have no idea what was going on in Tidy Till's Author's story. The first story should serve as a warning of how not to integrate previous stories into current ones.
Edit: Tidy Till's Author's story does make me want to see a story involving all 31 OCs. I get the feeling that it would be a hilariously entertaining disaster.
Falcata's Author
....I don't even.
6165606 ??? Don't even what?
Abstain.
Okay, I think it's time to come clean. I'm Tidy Till's Author. I decided to reveal myself because I noticed that several things in my entry actually needed a bit more explanation than I included.
I tried to build up a running, underlying plot that would span the whole rest of the tournament, a specter of sorts with a list that he used strike ponies out of existence and feed on their magic. I intended this to be weird as I introduced that plot element, and I wanted to capitalize on the fact that my last two rounds featured Bibidi Boo much more heavily than my own by having Tidy almost erased, and then coming back and being a spanner in the works for the real villain.
In fact, I'd written another version of this round that went into detail on the dinner at Bibidi's Invisible Castle of Dark Magic with Dawn Gleam and Merry Weather going further into their joined backstory and how they knew one another (Dawn attended Merry's academy in the same year as part of her own early schooling), but I realized partway in that I'd written enough to fill a couple pages on Word, and Falcata had yet to show up.
So yeah.
Unfortunately, I can't bring myself to vote for my opponent because for how great Falcata's Author's Entry characterized Tidy, barring not once taking advantage of him being a unicorn in a plot that required gathering supplies for a counter-attack in his own store,
My first issue was how clinical the establishing paragraphs felt as facts from the bio were rattled off, seemingly without a hint of effort put into spicing it up, (Use that vocabulary! I know you've got it in you!) not to mention copying the whole "Tactical Smile" bit from my first round.
The other issue is a particularly glaring plothole:
Neither the band of brigands nor Falcata have any reason to be there.
For a criminal band to be as big (legs to spare), organized (smart enough to coordinate their assault) and well equipped (able to acquire gear that ain't so cheap) as they are means that, at the bare minimum, they'd have the resources to scout out their targets before making their move! In doing so, they'd discover that there WAS no Zap Apple Jam in stock, nor would there be any coming in, and they'd pick another target if that was really their goal. Doing so, would take them out of Ponyville and exclude Tidy's involvement and nullify the point of the round.
Falcata is there, for lack of a better reason, to fight off brigands that she didn't know were attacking.
That's it!
Falcata's Author plopped her right behind the simultaneously-smart-and-stupid head honcho without describing or even telling us outright, what she was there shopping for!
On a positive note, the progression and execution of the counter-attack was decent, and the character interactions between the two in the midst of it all gave me hope for growth for Tidy's Character further down the line, if at all.
And looking back on Falcata's Author's previous rounds combined with this one, they all feel similar,
1. They're mostly told from Falcata's opponent's point of view.
2. They can happen absolutely anywhere.
3. Falcata and her opponent become fast friends by the final paragraph.
That last bit's prevalence in Falcata's Author's rounds kinda makes me think that Falcata's planning some kind of "Proxy Elements of Harmony" deal, what with how ultimately brief each of her opponents interactions are kept before moving on to the next one reminded me of Twilight's initial tour of Ponyville.
If that's the case, then we've got some obvious analogs going on:
Falcata --> Twilight Sparkle
Minnie Milk --> Applejack
Caps Lock --> Pinkie Pie
Tidy Till --> Fluttershy
And with Round Four possibly adding a Rarity analog (Mild Manners) or a maybe Rainbow Dash analog (Firefly), this is looking all the more likely, at least to me.
In the end, though, I don't feel I can vote in good faith for either entry this round.
Shame as it is for being mine.
6166001 Unless I'm mistaken, breaking the anonymity rule is grounds for immediate disqualification.
If that's the case, then I feel bad for Falcata's author. Having advanced past the first two rounds by default, here they finally got to face off against another author's OC... only for that author to ruin their chance to prove they can truly compete. Granted, the vote's overwhelmingly favoring Falcata's author right now, and I sincerely doubt you had a chance of ever recovering, but now it's all moot because you couldn't keep quiet.
Unless I'm mistaken, that is, and I really hope I am, if only so Falcata's author can pull off at least one proper win.
This whole segment of the competition is in utter shambles.
Edit: 6166868
No, he/she's gone for sure, and boy do I ever also find it a shame for Falcata's author. Moreover, 6166001's contributing to the problem of all of us being too sure who's participating. If he/she was dead set on doing this and just couldn't take waiting until it was all over, an alt would at least have been a good idea.
6166001
This is a DQ. Sorry, man. :<
Falcata's Author
What
Wut
I am so confused
I'm still trying to wrap my head around Tidy's entry. I can't even begin to analyze it as an entry in this contest, but sweet Luna am I fascinated by it. I really want to know what was planned for future rounds, but this one almost felt suicidal, like the author said "Nah, I'm done" and just had fun with it. Falcata and Loosestrife together (dogs and cats living together?), even more focus on Bibidi Boo, that ending...
Basically, thank you, Falcata's author, for giving us something worth voting for. This is my favorite Falcata/Loosestrife story so far, because it actually shows us the mare's insecurities and depth of character. Tidy had them, too, and I would've expected him to be neglected in a pair like this, but you did him justice for the first time as well. Good job.
6161988 No, here's what we'll do. You know that 10,000 word story commission in the first prize? That'll be the Ep 100.
Falcata strikes again.
6167013
Oh...
Oops.
6166868
6166876 You're both right.
I should've made an alt account for that kind of talk. I never intended to rob Falcata's Author of a first legit round victory for this tournament.
I'll call it like it is: I was feeling disappointed in myself and ranting.
I should've at least taken enough consideration for my opponent to make sure I wasn't doing any harm by my posting it.
For that, if you're reading this post, Falcata's Author, I am truly sorry.
How I feel walking into this pairing and comment thread
i.imgur.com/kEzRhVF.gif
Um.
Yeah.
I liked Falcata's Author and would have had no problems voting for him, had Tidy not DQ'd.
Looks like I would've been Tidy's only vote. :B People gotta learn how to do an anonymous writing contest!
Struck-Through
Liked:Disliked:I do not have adequate words to describe my reaction to this piece, nor can I fit them into a structure like that. Loosestrife was a definite downside: not written well, not really having much of a purpose. I could say the same of Caps Lock and Minnie Milk, but I also have no stake in their depictions. :B Which at least means that Falcata, Tidy and Bibidi fit in well by comparison. The metafiction is confusing as all hell, though I love how you used Bibidi this time around. This is just one of the most amazing messes of a story I have ever read, and I mean that in a good way.
Falcata and Tidy Till Go Diehard
Liked: The dialogue continues to be funny, like Falcata’s disapproval of the store name and motto.
Disliked: This is really rushed, and both ridiculous and unbelievable. I mean, it’s a fun kind of ridiculous, but c’mon. Also, stop assassinating your opponents, it’s not nice. :(