XXVI: Vive Ut Vivas
It was over.
Dusk Prosa was gone.
Opacare Prose was here, now.
But he did not feel elation. Only… apprehension.
One day had passed since Prose had gotten his “Not Guilty” verdict. The nation was in an uproar over his appearance. Canterlot’s press had repeated the story over the course of the seven days, and papers were being sold and read by the dozen. The story had spread quickly to Ponyville; the entire town was shocked to learn that the missing author had really been in their midst. Soon, the story of the death of Dusk, and the dawn of Prose, engulfed the remaining cities and towns of Equestria.
Of course, not everything was printed. Opacare’s words on Mayor Grifford Finch were still being considered. While the rulers wanted to think of his words as true, it was only his word against years of history, and Opacare had not bothered to bring substantial evidence to the table. And the nobles and audience certainly didn’t want to bring up such a controversial matter. As such, the only things revealed were his “death” and his “resurrection.”
That did not mean that the rulers had not been tempted to tell Equestria what Prose had said. His insistence convinced them to remain silent, though Twilight and the others were still confused as to why.
They all stood in the throne room, mulling over the future. The information presented had consequences that were far-reaching, and they wanted to decide what the next course of action was.
“Why won’t you let us do anything about this?” Twilight asked the pewter stallion.
“Because I have no evidence. It would look like the ramblings of a mad stallion.” He shook his head. “At the time, I was unaware that Grifford was even doing anything remotely nefarious. It was only after that incident with the child that I realized the truth. But the city believes otherwise. To the citizens, Finch is their hero, their savior, the ‘corruption-breaker’ and ‘pony of the people.’”
He began pacing around the room. “You see, he has the city so tightly under his control that, if you remove him, the city will fall. He, being responsible for returning Manehattan to its glory days, bears the duty of making sure that the city survives and stays this way. No matter how evil his actions have become.”
“So what yer saying is,” said Applejack, “is that if Finch was suddenly removed, the city would collapse?”
He nodded. “Exactly. And who would do the removing but the Princesses themselves?” He gestured to the pair, who were watching him, curious. “Should the rulers of Equestria go so far as to physically intervene in the matters of one of its cities and usurp its beloved mayor with no evidence, they would revolt.”
He shook his head. “It’s a sad world we live in, where sometimes to keep the peace, you must preserve the chaos and the darkness.”
His words were spoken with coldness and resignation, and the ponies realized that what he was talking about was true. They could do little to stop Grifford, and even if they could, there was a huge likelihood that the city would retaliate.
“I have a lot of dirt on him,” Prose continued, “but he has a lot of dirt on me. As I’m sure you are all now well aware,” he added, glancing around the room.
“Acts of intimidation, violence, threatening, assault,” Pinkie prattled off.
“Don’t flatter me.”
“We could appeal for a pardon,” Twilight said, looking up to her elders. “Get you away from your past actions.”
“It is not myself I am concerned for. It is the others that have helped. If I spoke up, it wouldn’t take long for the Family to connect the dots on how I escaped their clutches, and go after the ponies who assisted me.” He looked away. “One stallion has already paid the price. I cannot risk any more.”
“We could protect them!” Rainbow exclaimed angrily.
“Grifford has power, both in the Family and in the city. He is the Boss of the Family, after all.” He looked at Rainbow, tired. “If you try to protect those ponies, you’d be in just as much danger. Finch would issue a warrant, try and have my helpers arrested. If you try to go against the warrant, to the city, you’d be just another criminal trying to obstruct justice.”
“Surely they are not so naive!” Rarity exclaimed.
“If I was, who is to say they are not?”
Princess Celestia, meanwhile, had picked up on a small fact from Prose’s words. She looked at him, confused. “Raven Lock was not the only pony who helped you vanish?”
He turned to face her, shaking his head. “No. There were more. Several ponies in the higher-ups, in fact. They helped convince several publishing companies not to have my picture taken, thereby keeping me anonymous from the very start.”
“That explains why nopony knew what to look for,” Luna noted. “You had no pictures published in any of your novels.”
He smiled bitterly. “Indeed. The only ponies who knew what I looked like were Grifford and Raven. I kept a majority of my identity a secret from the Family.”
“If Mayor Finch knew what you looked like, then, why didn’t he specifically tell us what to look for?” asked Twilight.
He turned back to her. “I was counting on Finch making that mistake. He has a habit of overthinking some details. Likely, he had concluded that if I suddenly vanished, one, it was not of my own free will—as you have learned a few weeks back—and two, that I would be disguised. He had no idea, then, what to look for, because he was counting on that possibility.” He shook his head. “Of course, he has now been proven wrong. No doubt he is hitting himself over the head for missing the obvious. A true case of not following Occam’s razor, if I’ve ever seen one.”
“Occam’s razor?” Rainbow asked Twilight in a whisper.
“It means that among competing hypotheses, the one with the fewest assumptions should be selected,” she explained.
“But what about school? Surely you had your picture taken?”
“Never had. I missed the school picture day so many times because of studying that I was no longer eligible to have my picture taken.” He shook his head ironically. “And even if I had, the point still stands that the world would assume the least likely.”
Doctor Irons had been watching patiently, and now he chose to speak up. “What about the syringes?”
“What about them?” Opacare asked back.
“The labels. They said OP. No doubt, yours, now that we’ve established who you are. But why?”
He didn’t answer for a moment, instead walking back over to the evidence box. He gingerly took out the syringe, cringing slightly. Twilight realized why.
“You have trypanophobia?” she asked, incredulous.
He smiled weakly. “Amazing, isn’t it, that the Prime Intimidator should be intimidated by something so small and fragile?”
He walked back over to Irons, keeping the syringe as far away as possible. “You know by now that these have been shipped out to various hospitals across Equestria, to be used to treat others with my condition. My blood, unique as it is, does not serve as any true form of identification. I could not use Dusk Prosa as my signature, because the shipping and usage required valid identification. So I used my real initials, OP, as a means of allowing transport of my blood.”
“Why couldn’t you get a fake ID?” Fluttershy asked.
He glanced at her. “I’ve already broken numerous laws, fighting for what I thought was ‘right.’ But these syringes would really allow me to save lives. And I intended to do so through lawful means.” He glanced away. “That, and, Dusk Prosa never existed. He was but an alias, without any substance.”
He looked at Irons, and there was a hint of a smirk on his lips. “Dusk Prosa is really a combination of other languages. Dusk is the Equish translation of Opacare; Prosa is the Spaneish translation of Prose.”
“So it was your real name, just translated differently?” Irons smiled. “Clever.”
Opacare would have made a snarky reply, but he was cut off by the doors suddenly being thrown open. Looking up, he saw a trio of fillies galloping in, and for a moment a flicker of fear ran through his heart.
Sweetie in particular had a nasty look on her face, and she looked like she could plow right through the much larger pony. Prose took a step back. “Er, Sweetie—”
He was then tackled by the three, his back landing hard on the floor. He let out an “oof,” feeling his ribs being crushed as the three hugged him.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Sweetie cried, her face in his vest.
“C’mon, Dusk, not cool!” Apple Bloom also cried, squeezing him tightly.
Scootaloo couldn’t really say anything, likely not wanting to appear uncool in front of Rainbow Dash, but she gripped him just as tightly.
Unsure what to do at first, Opacare eventually settled on gently hugging the girls back. Slowly, he stood, the girls slipping off at him and staring at him, eyes filled with tears. He couldn’t tell if they were sad that Dusk was gone; or relieved that the truth had been revealed.
“First,” he said, kneeling down and speaking in a soft tone, “my real name is Opacare Prose. It may be a little while before you get used to calling me that, but I would like you to keep that in mind.”
They nodded. “Second. Why do you cry, young ones? What has made you so upset today?”
Sweetie wiped her eyes. “W-we’re not upset! We’re just…” She choked on a sob. “W-we’re just s-so h-h-happy!”
She began bawling, launching herself back at Opacare. The others joined in soon after, the waterworks overflooding any restraint they had. He glanced behind, seeing that even Twilight and her friends had some tears in their eyes.
“Happy?” he asked. “What for?”
Sweetie sniffed. “Y-you won’t be taken away from us,” she stammered, her voice muffled in the collar of his vest. She looked up at him, giving him the most genuine smile he had ever seen. “I told you you weren’t all that bad!”
He frowned. “But what of my past actions? All those misdeeds, those acts of intimidation—”
“You wanted to redeem yourself,” Celestia interrupted, smiling gently. “You wanted to honor your parents’ wishes. You were misguided, but you realized that, and tried to find a way to return to the path you wanted to travel on.”
She took a step forward. “Dusk, or Opacare, or whatever you call yourself, I think it is quite clear that regardless of your actions, your intent was good. And now, seeing you here, knowing that what you did in the past was wrong…” Her smile widened. “I think that makes you a good pony as well.” Twilight and her friends murmured their agreement, as did Irons and Luna, their smiles real and true.
Opacare looked at them all, carefully analyzing what they said. A part of him did not want to believe them; but that part of him was the old part, the one that lived in fear of what could happen. Perhaps that part of him was right in some sense; a good fear of the unknown was necessary to his survival. But that fear should not hinder his goals, nor his intentions. It had done so in the past; and he knew that he could not let it happen again.
He smiled, matching their expressions of joy, as he hugged the fillies back gently.
“There’s still one thing Ah don’t quite understand,” Applejack spoke up. Everypony looked to her. “What exactly did that note of yours say, Dusk—Ah mean, Opacare?”
His smile remained intact. “I’ll show you when we get to Ponyville.”
A day later, they returned to Ponyville. Before they entered the town, they made a quick stop to Opacare’s house. He gave a pointed look to Rainbow as he allowed them inside, suggesting a hint of annoyance remaining. He guided them up the stairs, leading them to his room calmly. Entering, he walked over to the wastebasket and fished around for the note, taking it out and unrolling it.
He raised an eyebrow. “Nopony tried searching my house further?”
Twilight shook her head. “No. Mayor Mare decided that Rainbow’s evidence was enough.”
He looked at the pegasus, who was abashed. He smiled. “Hmm. You’ve studied Trent’s techniques, I see.” She blushed even harder, but managed a sheepish grin.
He placed the note onto the desk. “The blotches are from the ink,” he explained, “but they also stem from another substance. Can you guess what?”
Sweetie answered, “Is it that Illusionary Mud stuff you used?”
He nodded. “Indeed. But the formula isn’t perfect. It can be removed with only a small bit of water.”
“Then why didn’t it come off when you came from Foal Mountains?” Fluttershy asked. “What with all that snow?”
He tapped his cloak. “The vest and cloak are more than just accessory. Raven, he… commissioned them a while back. It helped with police work, and prevented his flare revolver from getting too damp. These garments protect quite well against wet conditions.”
He pointed back to the paper. “As you can see, this note lacks such a covering. Hence, why I can do this.” He licked his hoof, then gently began rubbing away at the smudges. At first, it seemed to make it worse; but, as he applied a little more pressure, the smudges began gathering in small clumps which could easily be peeled off of the words. With a quick swipe, he gathered the clumps into a larger pile, and they slowly amassed in a mud formation. It was a dark black, nearly identical to the color of the ink, and he placed it to the side.
He noticed that Twilight had a somewhat thoughtful look on her face. “Something on your mind?” he asked.
She started, looking at him. “Sorry. I was just thinking of an old friend who specialized in illusions.”
“Unicorn?”
“Yeah. Her name was Trixie. Maybe you’ve heard of her?”
“Mm… nope.” He turned back to the note, seemingly content with dropping the topic. Twilight, after a moment, resumed watching.
“Here we go,” he murmured, as he finished taking all the Mud pieces off. He held it up, and turned to face them, reading the note aloud:
“Raven Lock,
“You will never read this; it will die over night. It is not meant to be sent out. There is always a possibility of danger, should you be found reading this.
“With everything that has been happening, I am beginning to grow even more worried. It’s at times like these I wish I hadn’t become Dusk Prosa. So much conflict is quickly arising, and my old self is returning in full stride.
“I regret becoming this monster. I always have. But you already know that. You know what I’ve done.
“I’m rambling. This isn’t so much a letter as much as it is a way for me to get my thoughts down.
“The syringes are almost done. They’re locked in my freezer, hopefully sane enough to frighten me no longer. It’s not all the blood that scares me, though…
“Opacare Prose is gone. By my hooves. Figuratively, of course. Prose isn’t really dead. To say I killed him… well, now that I think about it, that could be true.
“The town doesn’t know, though. And I’m certain that the fillies know about the syringes.
“Funny. The syringes and Prose’s disappearance are both my most kept and worst kept secrets.
“There I go, off on another tangent. Like I’m insane. Next thing you’ll know, I’ll be returning to Manehattan to rejoin the Family, maybe even bury Opacare Prose’s name.
“Forgive me. That wasn’t very funny.
“I guess I just needed to write this. Like a confession. Not that it matters. No amount of reconciliation can undo what I’ve done.
“I don’t know what I’m saying anymore. I’m not sure what to do. Should I continue this operation?
“Of course I should. I started it. And I intend to finish it.
“There’s no need for aliases.
“Opacare Prose”
Finished reading, he glanced around, surprised to see a few tears in the others’ eyes. Rarity stepped forward and gave him a gentle hug. He flinched, unsure if he should reciprocate the action.
“And to think we thought you were a murderer,” she whispered, deeply ashamed. “In the end, you were the one who was hurting the most.”
He gulped back a dry reply, choosing instead to awkwardly pat her on the back. He stiffened when he heard her sniffle. “Rarity… are you… crying?”
She stepped back, wiping her face. “Oh, dear… my mascara is running!”
Applejack gave her a comforting squeeze. Opacare frowned, a bit confused, but remained silent as Rarity did her best to compose herself. After some time, she looked back at Prose.
“You said you’ll be returning to Manehattan?”
He nodded.
“Do you know when?”
He shook his head. “No… not yet.”
She sniffed. “Well, then you simply must stay in Ponyville for one more week at minimum! We haven’t properly mingled as much as we should have!” She held up a hoof, preventing from interrupting. “And I won’t take no for an answer! I have to fix your vest and your cloak, and make up for accusing you of…” She rolled her hoof, “—how you say, intending harm to yourself.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I see. And if I refuse to stay?”
“Well, Ah imagine you don’t really have a choice,” said Applejack, grinning. “Rarity ain’t gonna let you go, and I don’t think that the younguns want ya leaving anytime soon.” She gestured to the fillies, who were beaming at him. “And Fluttershy probably wants to let you meet her animals.”
“I… I mean… if you don’t mind, that is,” Fluttershy whispered, hiding behind her mane. He nodded slowly, showing that he had no particular restraints.
He placed the note back on the desk, exhaling a breath. “Hopefully this clears up a majority of the murkiness,” he said. Their murmurs confirmed his claim. He leaned back. “But… I’ll have to leave in time, you understand. To… fix my past.”
“Well, you’ve got a week,” Rarity said. “Surely that’s no problem?”
He sighed. “I suppose Finch can wait. But in the meantime… what should I do?”
“Why, have a ‘Welcome-Back-To-Equestria’ party, of course!” Pinkie shouted, her smile painfully wide. His eyes widened in surprise, and he made to interrupt, but was cut off by the ecstatic mare. “Ooh! This is exciting! I’ve never thrown a party for an author who vanished before! Hmm, do you still like mousse cake? I can whip up a batch in a jiffy!”
“Doesn’t mousse take a while to make, though?” Rainbow whispered to Fluttershy.
“Oh! Oh! I’ve got to get matching party hats! And they’ve gotta say ‘Welcome Back!’” Her mouth shot off word after word, drowning out any of Opacare’s protests. Soon, he sighed, resigning himself to simply letting Pinkie ramble.
“I doubt I could convince you otherwise,” he murmured.
Pinkie beamed. “I’d like to see you try!”
The town met them at the north entrance, completely stupefied at Prose. He met them with a somewhat calm smile, not as angry or frustrated as he was in the past. The ponies murmured in amazement as they watched him go, followed closely by the Bearers and Doctor Irons, the Crusaders flanking the returned author. Their eyes had dried, and they looked quite content to be walking with the stallion they had come to appreciate. The town soon followed after them all.
A number of the town’s ponies set to work, gathering supplies for the party. Their combined efforts ensured that the party would be up in only an hour. Irons left for the hospital, while Twilight and her friends left Opacare alone to wait for the party.
In that time, he took a quick walk around town, looking at the place he had grown to live in. Though he had settled on the outskirts of Ponyville, he found that he greatly appreciated the closeness that the town had. His mood was bright and warm, and even the murky glares from Filthy Rich and her daughter weren’t enough to diminish his attitude.
He was nearly squeezed to death by Ditzy when he knocked on her door. Dinky had rushed out and tackled him with surprising force, and her mom had quickly followed. Time Turner looked on, amused and chuckling, as the older stallion gasped for breath between Ditzy’s bone-crushing strength.
“Quit laughing, Turner!” Opacare managed to say weakly. Turner only laughed harder.
Several ponies came up to him after he had left the Doo household, asking for his autograph. In their magic and hooves, they held up various copies of his books; he even saw Rainbow Dash among the crowd. At first, he was surprised, and a bit flustered, not used to all this attention after all this time. But he managed to calm down, bringing out his signature quill and inkwell, signing his name with his flank glowing brilliantly.
Rainbow flew forward, holding out her copy of Trial by Fire. “Er, sorry, Mr. Prose,” she apologized sheepishly. “For… you know… almost having you arrested for killing… yourself…”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “What about breaking into my home?”
“Aw, you’re still hung up on that?”
“You broke the law. If I were a normal pony, I’d have you arrested!” He snorted. “I suppose I can let it slide, this time.”
He waved a hoof. “Even with all my planning, it was bound to happen. The truth can never be fully restrained.” He raised an eyebrow. “And since when did you start referring to me in such a formal tongue? I thought we were friends.”
She started at that, but broke into a smile. “Yeah, I guess we are. Even if, you know, it came about in weird circumstances.” He finished signing.
“You better take good care of my book, Rainbow,” he jokingly threatened. The pegasus blushed, but nodded, seeing that Prose held nothing against her.
As the crowd walked off, Prose turned the other way, continuing his rounds. He made his way to east side of Ponyville, spying a familiar-looking nurse traveling down the road. She met his gaze, and beamed, emerging into a vigorous trot. He smiled back as she gave him a hug.
“Nurse Redheart.”
“You jerk.” She booped him on the nose. “The missing author was my patient all along? Sounds like something from one of your novels.”
“Technically I was Doctor Irons’s patient—”
“I could break your legs right now.”
“Point taken.”
They hugged it out for a little while, before Redheart had to go. She gave him a surprise kiss on the cheek, though it was more chaste than anything. He felt a faint blush creep on his cheek, but nonetheless smiled at her as she left.
Soon, he had nearly made all his rounds. One place remained. He glanced at the big clock tower that stood at the edge, seeing that an hour had nearly passed. Walking into the center of town, he approached the Carousel Boutique. Knowing that the time was fast arriving, he walked up to the door and knocked on it.
Rarity greeted him, letting him pass with a smile. He nodded his thanks, silently reflecting on what she had said, as well as wondering what the future had in store.
With Dusk Prosa officially gone, Opacare Prose could return to his original quest of helping Manehattan. Yet, a part of him still felt fear for what could happen. Finch had power; he did not. It was his word against the Mayor’s, and frankly, he doubted that anypony not close to him would believe a word he said.
As such, the future, to him, was uncertain. He had no real way of predicting an outcome. All he could do, he supposed, was live in his present, and let the future unfold.
The present had offered him gifts that his past and future could not bear to surpass. It had given him joy; it had given him companionship; and, most importantly, it had given him a sense of hope. Hope that, one day, he would accomplish his goal.
He had one pony to thank for that, he supposed.
Opacare made his way up the stairs of the Boutique, heading to Sweetie’s room. He knocked on the door, and was met by the enthusiastic filly. Her smile stretched across her cheeks when she saw him.
Thank you, he thought, smiling.
He offered a friendly hoof. “Would you like to go to the party?”
She took his hoof with a giggle, and they made their way out the Boutique, heading for the Hall.
Yes, the future appeared murky to him. And it should; fate and chance had presented events that he could not have predicted. But that didn’t matter, he supposed. All that planning would be for naught if the present did not matter.
And it did matter that he enjoy what was here and now. It did matter that he live, free of his fears of the past. And it did matter that he try and enjoy his time while it lasted.
Live to be alive.
It didn’t matter, then, what the future entailed. Opacare Prose would face it with his new friends, and with the strength of a newly restored goal. The past and the present would be his tools to ensure a brighter future for all. Of that, he was certain.
With a smile, he entered the Hall, intent on enjoying his combined new-and-old life once more.
THE END
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6966715 Glad I could have been of assistance!
After a while I've actually managed to complete this amazing story. Maybe is not action-packed as others, but is incredibly well written and has a great OC. Now it's time to pass to the next chapter: Streets of Sin!
7027399 Thank you for reading and enjoying it! I hope its sequel will find your favor just as well!
Ah, hell.
I always enjoy fics – or stories in general – in which, the main character is a writer. I guess I just go silly with the meta.
Welp. Time to dive in.
7268259 I hope you enjoy it.
This review was brought to you by The Syndicate Reviews
I look back on the last…. Four or five months it took me to get around to reviewing this story like I was fucking suppose to back during the week or the fucking month it got requested, but I busy with college shit and slamming my head into a brick wall over and over again like I feel like doing right about now. If Jarvey Jared has hard feelings towards me for not doing as I was asked back then I can totally understand that and if he doesn’t hold a grudge for long than he I might ask for his recommendation if someone ever wants a funny hard truth review.
I think I might be right on that precipice of fuck-that-shit-I’m-not-gonna-try-anymore when it comes to my Comp. I class that my professor has no sodding idea how to teach, or whether she has no commitment to teaching at all, seeing as how all her instructions are fucking vague and it almost makes me want to slam her head into a keyboard until her cunting face is comprised of blackened-grey plastic and lettered keys.
*sighes*
Well, fuck me in the ass cause that cathartic release felt scrum-diddley-umptious. It reminds me why I started reviewing in the first place. To put some fucking classy shit out there and help the fucking fandom actually have some nice things. We don’t have very many nice things, only two by my count FiM and FimFiction. We should all lick Knighty’s holy ballsack and thank god for him as if he were Jim fucking Sterling.
A Prose by all means, is something I’m quite fearful when it comes to reviewing. It’s dark and mysterious and it means I’ll inevitably be disappointed in the end. And by Job, was I right as always. Maybe you people should thank god for me too, as if I am Jim fucking Sterling son.
A Prose One Way and a Verse the Other is about the tragic events unfolding after the disappearance of the famous author of Manehattan, Something Prose… or Prose Something. During which entire country of Equestria loses their shit and starts a country wide manhunt, for the pony equivalent of Nicholas Sparks. Cause you know we need more of that bollocks. Simultaneously, a new mysterious stranger, by the name of Dusk Prosa, enters Ponyville with a solemn sigh and a troubled past as he seeks solitude and… well that’s about it now isn’t it?
An Anaphora for the Night seems to be the thing I feared the most, I wanted it and now I completely lost interest. It sparkles brightly in the early stages and once we peel back the golden cock wrap it’s not but a bland three inch ride. They say the spice of life is variety and maybe a bit more would nice President Trump! We can’t keep muslims out of the U.S. only with the terrorist bastards schtick. How about something other than depressing atmosphere and angst up the ass? Is that too much to ask?!?
7489955 Uh... thank you? I think?
Your review is ready over at the PCaRG.
8029986 In their worry over the mere presence of there being needles, the Mane Six forgot that that was another factor that should have been considered.