Refined Starlight in a Broken Vessel

by the-pieman

Counsel for the Cynical

Anthony’s Mortality Log
Day number ...Fuck it

Still not favoring the various upkeep costs of caring for a walking meatbag. Food and water requirements are aggravating in their consistent necessity. Cleaning myself feels fine, but the necessary consistency of it is less than ideal. I liked it better when I didn’t have to do a damned thing. Forget holding electricity in my hand or becoming a thirty-meter titan, I want to go back to not having to interrupt everything I may be doing just because I get hungry or need to take a crap. Amazing machine that it is, the human body is horrendously inefficient. If this goes on for too long, I’m gonna start gaining weight again. It’d suck to be doing all this nigh-effortless ‘not eating badly’ and ‘frequent exercise’ I’m allowed by the star core to vanish for so long that my endomorphism starts showing again.

I feel my knees pop a bit as I get out of bed. That’s certainly something I don’t miss, either. Throwing on my clothes from yesterday I head for the bathroom. Window is still broken but at least it’s been covered up for now. I brace my arms on the sink's edge and stare at the mirror long enough to really hate what I see. I look like utter garbage. Is that really my hair? Fucking hell... where does Twilight put a comb?

Drawers are labelled at least, but all I find is a brush. I take a minute to make myself look half decent and toss the brush back in the drawer and look back in the mirror. Hair isn’t bad anymore but I still look almost as messed up as I feel. What the fuck are you gonna do with yourself, man? You have a plan, somewhere in there, right? Damnit.

I stretch and sigh, leaving the bathroom. Go downstairs... or back to my room? I don’t know, nothing’s gonna happen. Everyone around says Ponyville is a weirdness magnet, so why is it that things haven’t been all that tumultuous lately? They also say that I’ve been... improving. Twilight even said as much yesterday. Am I a better person? I mean, some days I do feel like I’m living a better life, but today? Ugh... the only things consistent are the things I don’t like.

There’s gotta be something to do around here. I guess one of the big things that I haven’t done since I lost my powers is express myself. I could do something like that... I guess. What can I do? Today I just feel agitated. Restless. Upset. Angry. Like I need to vent. Creatively.

Hmmm, there’s an idea.

---

A small house on the edge of town is bathed in moonlight just like its neighbors, the yellowish glow of candlelight from inside the windows extinguish as the people prepare to sleep. Tensing up, my muscles begin to twitch as I stare down at the hamlet and I feel a hunger begin to grow inside me... a hunger that will soon be quelled.

Creeping slowly towards the house, I position myself near a window and leap through the wall, splinters flying everywhere as the boards weaken against my weight and brawn. A woman begins to scream but is cut short as I bring my claws to her throat, silencing her to short breaths and groans of pain as I knock her to the ground and rip her chest open. Kneeling over the quickly-dying woman I feast on her insides.

But it’s not enough, tonight my hunger cannot be satisfied so easily. Viscera clinging to my chops, I smash my way out of the house and begin heading towards the town proper, now awakened and alarmed by the first woman’s scream. Townsfolk come running, and I leap towards a man clothed in ragged fur, almost coarser than my own.

I land on the man, both of us screaming as loud as possible, his of fright and mine of victory as my teeth rip off what little flesh is available from the man’s head. The scent of blood drives me to pull his body apart and I begin eating what I can from his skinny bones.

Far from content, I turn to the rest of the townspeople who are running away in fear. With a loud, deep howl I signal the beginning of the hunt and chase down the next nearest victim, my natural speed far outpacing theirs. Soon I am once more atop my meal preparing to continue my feast when a strike to my back draws my attention. Angered by the interruption, I turn to my assailant and see one of the town guards, clad in metal and armed with a sword.

He takes another strike at me but I charge at him, knocking him back. With an unstable stance, the guard is open to my attack and I peel the platemail away and dig my claws deep into his unarmored flesh. I begin to make him my next meal, ripping the rest of his armor open like a sweet wrapped in light paper as I tear my claws through him over and over sending viscera everywhere, covering myself in his blood sending waves of endorphins through my body. I need more. More blood... I hunger...

Not bothering to savor the taste of his death, I move on. Another guard rushes towards me but a quick swing of my arm sends her flying into the wall of a nearby house. Spotting more prey inside the house, I dash past the guard and hurl myself at one of the villagers, and tear at my victim’s chest with my teeth. The guard begins to right herself and so I return my attention to her, briefly swiping a clawed hand across her unarmored head, tearing large gashes into her face.

Not pleased with my slow pace I begin to simply chase down and kill everyone, deciding to feed on their corpses once I am finished. With another ferocious growl I bear down on a mass of people and leap amongst them and begin slashing my way through them, gore being sent flying everywhere as I continue my frantic massacre, the feeling of the hunt invigorating me, transforming me from a mere beast into a true apex predator. I... need... more...

I grab one of the remaining people and tear them in half before turning my attention to the pile of bodies that were my victims. Nature succeeds this day, as the rules of the wild enforce themselves through me. I need more... I begin my feast, fangs tearing and shredding through tendons and marrow, my hunger being satiated as-

“Anthony, what are you doing?”

I sigh as my focus is shattered by Twilight’s interruption and my momentum is completely halted like a derailed train of thought. “Go away.”

Twilight looks over my shoulder and then backs up and starts smiling and prancing in place. “...are you writing? As in an actual story? You’re a writer!?”

“Meh, lemme ‘lone!” I reply, trying to shoo her away, already perturbed by my lost focus.

“Wait, I want to see!” She levitates the parchment towards herself and her eyes go wide as she scans it. “Agh! You can’t start a story like that!”

“Hey, en medias res is a perfectly legitimate writing style.” I defend.

“No, I mean it’s all... yuck! Anthony this is horrible!” She puts the pages back down on the desk, backpedalling in disgust.

“Well, I didn’t want to show it to you in the first place.” I inform her.

That gets Twilight to pause. “But why not? I love reading!”

“Sure, but you aren’t my target audience, which has been proven by your revulsion towards the subjects I’m emphasising.” I point out. “It’s not meant for people with weak stomachs or saccharine views on ‘proper literature’.”

“But... You can’t write a story like that...! It’s disgusting!” Twilight insists, upsetting me more.

I don’t need much defense against such a weak ‘argument’. “Yes, yes I can. I can write whatever I want.”

“It’ll never get published like that though!”

I give Twilight a weird look. “I’m not going to publish it, it’s writing for my own entertainment. I don’t care if you hate it. I’ll write my story how I want.”

“It’s all wrong, though!” She insists again and it actually takes me a moment to process what she just said.

A ‘wrong’ way to write? The fact that somebody as inclined to literature as she is could even conceive a phrase like that is... I honestly want to wring her neck on behalf of anyone who ever put pencil to paper. “I’ll write my story, and you can write your own, and we don’t have to read each other’s stories. Now go the fuck away!”

“Alright alright... sheesh, you are so... weird.” She turns to walk away, but I’m not done with my arguments yet.

“You’re the one saying I should be less of a jerk, and also the one telling me what methods I’m allowed to use to vent my frustration!” I half-yell in response. “I hate having to fit myself into your stupid equine lifestyle and then also having to do it in the way that they'll accept. Do you really want me to be a better person, or do you actually want me to change into a person that you like?”

Twilight stops and turns back, looking uncomfortable. “Th- that’s not fair, I’m just saying that I don’t think having those kinds of thoughts is healthy. You should change your outlook to one that’s a bit more socially acceptable.” I nearly snap at that, and can feel my hands get cold.

“I’m not allowed... to have thoughts... you don’t approve?” I stand up, fists clenched. Twilight shrinks slightly and looks up at me.

“I didn’t... I didn’t mean it like that, I... I just-” I know she’s putting her foot in her mouth over and over, but with the way she acts so sure of herself it’s not hard to believe that she actually thinks it’s okay to be saying things with such horrible implications.

“Go away, Sparkle. If you know what’s good for you, stay completely silent and leave now, before I start justifying actions that everyone will regret.” She pauses and we stand in silence for a few moments. She sighs and nods, bowing her head and walking away.

I look back at the parchment I’d been writing on and I just tear it up. It wasn’t even that good, anyways. Pacing was fucking garbage. I just can’t imagine how Twilight could twist the conversation from a critique on writing to ‘educating’ me on my ideals so easily. Maybe she needs a second cutie mark just to reflect how easily she gets under my skin.

Maybe I just need to get out of here. It has gotten easier for me since I started being away from the library more often. I step outside and the fresh air feels nice. There’s a very tiny hint of cold to it, as well. Autumn is slowly making its way in. Halloween would be nice, maybe that’ll raise my spirits, though it’s still a ways off. I need to go somewhere now. I haven’t seen Pinkie Pie since everyone got back from the Crystal Empire, and she’s helped me talk through some bad shit before... Yeah, I’ll go see her.

Doesn't take that long to get to Sugarcube Corner, and it looks like they're open. The bell dings as I enter, and Mrs. Cake comes out of the back area just a few moments later. "Well, good morning, Anthony! Anything I can get for you today?"

I give a short wave of my hand. "Nah, I've been a little light on money lately. I was wondering if you'd mind if I had a chat with Pinkie Pie."

Mrs. Cake just smiles. "Sure! We've got a bit more prep work to do still, but once we're stocked up and ready for the late morning, we should be free enough for her to take a break until ponies start coming in and placing orders."

I nod. "I can wait a bit for her." My tongue touches my lips and I notice how dry they are, and then how dry my whole mouth is. "Actually, I'm a bit thirsty, could you spare some water?"

"That's no problem at all!" She says, and leaves for a moment and coming back with a cup of water. "Here you go. You shouldn't be waiting long."

I nod and take a drink from the cup, feeling a lot better after. "Not a big deal if I was." I assure her. "Time is something I have a fair amount of." I go to lean against the far wall, continuing that thought internally. 'But if my star core doesn't repower, and assuming it's no longer extending my lifespan, I don't have nearly as much time as usual in the grand scheme of things.' I take another drink of water.

I space out long enough for Pinkie to come out front. “Heya, Anthony!” she walks over to the table I’m at, bouncing just a bit in the process. “It’s good to see you! I’ve been pretty busy trying to make up for the days I missed, so I didn’t get a chance to come by the library. I was gonna do it today but now I don’t have to!”

I smile a bit. “Yeah. It’s pretty wild. Good to know there’s folks around who are happy to see me.”

Her smile changes from one of excitement to one that looks more like just plain sincerity. “You’ve got something on your mind, huh?”

“Easy to tell?” I ask, and she just rolls her eyes a tad, still smiling.

“Sure is! You’re not being all that subtle with your wording, either. So! Whatcha wanna talk about?” She’s so enthusiastic about helping me and it... it feels nice. But... why is she that way, though? It is a question I’ve been meaning to ask.

“Pinkie Pie... why do you like me?”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, her smile falters just a bit and she sighs. “Ooooookay, getting right into the big ones, huh?” She pauses for a deep breath, but at least she’s smiling still. “Sorry, I figured you’d either ask that sooner or not at all so I... thought you wouldn’t.”

“If you don’t want to say-”

“Oh, nothing like that. It’s fine to talk about, it’s not like it’s embarrassing, I just wasn’t expecting this conversation. So... why do I like you? There are a couple reasons.” Her smile is bright as ever, and it seems she’s going to be honest with me, not that she ever hasn’t as far as I know. “Okay, we’ll start here. You’re really special.”

I sigh. “Yeah, I’ve had that exact adjective be used as reasoning why people didn’t want me around at all, so please specify.”

Pinkie Pie winces a bit but keeps going. “Yeah, like that. You... you aren’t all that happy. See, my special talent is making others have fun and enjoy themselves. I like to make others smile, it’s all I really want most of the time. If others are happy, then I’m happy and if I made them happy then that’s even better.”

“Okay, but what does that have to do with me?” I ask.

“I was getting there.” Pinkie assures me. “So, here’s the thing. I like making folks happy, but honestly it’s not that difficult most of the time. I’ve met folks who didn’t even want to smile or be happy before, and that was a pretty big deal. I managed to help them out though and now they’re just as joyful as everypony else around. You’re... different. It’s not that you don’t want to be happy, you just... aren’t. For whatever reasons you have, either in general or at any given moment. The important part is... you aren’t a very happy person. Anyone else around town... I can tell a joke, give them a hug, or throw a party for them and they’ll be a lot better. You... aren’t as easy as that. You’re complicated.”

I hang my head a bit. “Yeah... I just don’t always have that in me. So much crap has happened to me... Sorry for, Idunno, roadblocking your talent or whatever.”

Pinkie smiles and leans in. “Don’t be sorry, that’s my point. You aren’t always easy to make happy... so when you are happy, it’s a big deal. If I made you happy then... I did something important. I like you so much, because if I can make you happy, then that means that... my talent isn’t just one that anypony could have. My Cutie Mark gives me a skill to make others happy, and I’m happy for them. Your joy just happens to be a bit more difficult, so it’s more special for me when I do it.” She smiles a bit. “I’m going in circles a bit, sorry. I just don’t really know how to explain it better than that. Making you happy makes me feel better than if I made Roseluck or Batch Run happy. I can make them smile with no problem. Even Cranky isn’t that hard to handle these days, but when I help you then... I’ve done something better for you than just make you smile. So I guess it makes sense that I’d want more chances to make you happy.”

I look her in the eyes and she looks just so... genuine. She steps forward a bit in a way that I’ve learned is her body language for asking for a hug, so I kneel down and I pull her in. It feels... so nice. She really cares. I guess I always knew that but this just makes it feel more... solid. She doesn’t just want to help me because I’m fucked up and need fixing, and not just because she’s too nice to just let me boil on my own. Her short fur is warm on my bare arms and I squeeze a little tighter. “So... that’s the reason you like me so much?”

She rubs her cheek against mine. “Not the only reason... but that’s a big one.”

I let go of the hug and she does the same in return, and I stand up. She bounces back and switches quickly to her usual ‘super cheery’ attitude. “Aaaaanyways, I think I still have some more time before I gotta get back to work. Wanna hear a joke?”

Yeah, I could use a laugh. I grin back at her. “Only if it’s a good one.”

She giggles. “Okay, here goes. One time, I spilled spot-remover on my dog... and now I can’t find him!”

I nod. “Not bad, heard it before. I got my own version of the joke. Why does a mother dalmation never have to worry about losing sight of her puppies?” Pinkie Pie thinks for a bit, then shrugs. I raise my eyebrow. “They’ve already been spotted.”

Pinkie laughs at that. “Oh, that’s a good one. Okay, uh, let’s see... What did the duck say after buying lipstick?”

I know where this is going immediately. “Put it on my bill.”

“Aw, you know that one too?!” She fake-pouts. “I know I have one you haven’t heard!”

I take my turn. “So a guy goes in to see a physician for some leg pain. The doctor says ‘Sir, you seem to be overweight. You’re just too fat.’ So the guy gets mad at the accusation and says ‘I want a second opinion!’ and the doc says ‘Okay, you’re ugly, too!’”

Pinkie frowns and says “That’s mean!” but a short chuckle afterwards tells me what she really thinks. “Uh, alright... why is six afraid of-”

“Seven? Because seven ate nine.” I reply, rolling my eyes and giving a clever grin.

“Aww, this isn’t fair!” Pinkie pouts again. “Buuuuuut I’m having fun anyways. Hehehe!”

I decide to go for something more akin to a riddle with this one. “Hey, Pinkie. Do you think a cricket could jump higher than a house?”

Suddenly, I see a great big smile cross her face. “Oh, oh, oh! Yes, because a house can’t jump!” I nod and she starts beaming. “Hah, I got one now! Why did the witches disband their baseball team?”

I pause. “Witches... and quitting baseball." Damn... I figure my arbitrarily-long guessing time is up so I shrug. “Okay, I give up.”

“Their bats flew away!” She smiles, laughing aloud, and I sigh with a facepalm. Should’ve seen that coming.

Still, my turn. “Say, do you know why I call the bathroom ‘Jim’?”

“I don’t know, Anthony. Why do you call the bathroom Jim?” Pinkie replies in typical stage-show format. I decide to keep it going with my call back.

I deliver the punchline. “Because it sounds better when I say I go to the Gym every morning!”

“Hey Anthony, why did the can crusher quit his job?” She seems whipped up in all this so she doesn’t give me much time to think. “It was soda-pressing!”

Damn, that one’s corny... My turn now. “Do you know how to make a tissue dance?” I pause. “Put a little boogie in it.”

“Ewwwwww!” Pinkie cries, making a pleased-looking disgusted face. “Okay, okay. I got a couple more and then I gotta head back, okay?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Alright, here we go. I used to have an ant farm-” What!? No... no... Not this... “But I had to sell it...” I feel my body go cold and my guts tighten up. I try to cover my ears but the damage had been done. “I couldn’t find tractors... that... Anthony, are you okay?”

Fuck! I pull my hands from my ears and just grab my forehead. “No. I... I need to be somewhere else! Now!”

“Anthony?” I don’t bother replying or turning back. I leave and run away from the bakery until I find the side of another random building. I lean my arm against it and bury my face in the crook of my elbow. Damnit! Why that joke!? Of any potential pun or play-on-words... why'd she have to tell that one!?

I pull my head back a bit and feel my face with my other hand. No tears. Still no tears, not a single one. Of fucking course. I just can't... can't. Now Pinkie's probably worried about me. She'll ask, of course, she'd be a bad friend if she didn't but what the Hell do I tell her? Will she let me deflect? Will she be perceptive enough to know if I lie? Why doesn't it make me fucking cry, even now?

Why can't I just fucking escape this? How can they want me to let go of my pain when they shove me back into it without even trying!? Why does it have to come back? Why did I not notice I'd almost forgotten and why can't I let it go? I just want to cry it out, but it just doesn't ever come! I can feel my fists digging my fingernails into my palms, and I bury my face further into my elbow. If I care so much that it hurts but can’t care enough despite that, then why care at all? How can I so precisely hit that midpoint of being sensitive enough to make others pity me, but I don’t hurt enough for it to mean anything to myself and actually deserve that pity? I really don’t deserve any of it, but they act like they need to anyways. The comfort they try to give me feels nice, but it never feels truly deserved. I don’t need coddling and they shouldn’t waste their time on me. My problems aren’t even that important in the grand scheme of things. Why don’t they see the big picture and leave me to it? How can I possibly be that important, when I can’t even grieve properly? Why can’t this shit stop hurting? It’s over. Over and... gone.

“Hey, Anthony?” I snap back from my internalization at Pinkie Pie’s voice. I know I can’t just ignore her... all I can do is cover more of my face as I reply.

“Y- yeah.”

I can hear the pause in Pinkie’s voice before she’s even spoken again. “...you’re not going to tell me. Are you?”

Ow. “No.”

She sighs, a sound I honestly hate to hear in her voice. It sounds so... alien and sad. “Well, even if you won’t let me help you, you need help anyways. You need to talk to somepony. I don’t know who, but it needs to be somepony. As much as I like you and want to see you happy, I’m not stupid. I know that when you get like this, nopony can do anything about it. You just push us away, even when we wanna help you. If there was anything you do that hurts me, it’s this.”

Now I hurt. A lot. “I...”

Pinkie continues “I don’t need to know why something is a problem, I want something done about it. I want you to be happy, even if it’s not me who helps you, but it has to be somepony because you can’t handle it on your own when you get like this.”

I shudder with how much it hurts to hear this, especially from her... damn perceptive pink ponies. She’s right... and it doesn’t hurt for the usual reasons I don’t like people being ‘right’ about me.

“Anyways, I have to get back to work soon. You need to go see somepony you can trust. Somepony who you don’t mind talking to. I don’t know anypony like that just now considering how rare it is for you to talk about these things. Maybe Fluttershy, you seem to be fine with her. Whoever it is, make sure you get something out of it even if it’s knowing they were the wrong one to help you. Just do that much for me, okay?”

I sigh and shift away from the wall. Hopefully that’s a good enough response.

“Okay, I’m going back. You find that somepony to talk to. Please.” I hear her turn and retreat, another sigh making me feel a little sick. Who could I talk to, though? Fluttershy? I mean... maybe. She’s certainly more receptive than most, and I know that she’d keep quiet about anything I tell her, even if she can’t help me. I suppose she wouldn’t be a bad place to start.

I accept option one and figure out how to get to her place from here. Thankfully I just need to go relatively in the direction of the Everfree forest. Walking is slow, but I can’t really muster much energy. I’ll get there eventually. At the very least the star core left me with the stamina I’ve built up physically these last few months, so it’s not even that tiring to walk from one end of town to the other, just takes a while.

Dunno how long it’s been, feels like several hours, but I’m sure it can’t have been that long. At least I’m here. I move up to her front door and knock. Doesn’t take long for Fluttershy to answer it, and she looks up a bit. “Oh! Hello, Anthony. Is there something I could help you with?”

“Uh, maybe.” I flex my hands, and stuff them in my pockets.

“Well I...” She trails off. “Are you feeling alright? You don’t look so good.”

Just need to take a breath and say it... Denial at this point does nothing. “I uh, need some help.”

She gives a small smile. “I’ll help if I can. Would you like to come in?” I nod and she opens the door fully, stepping aside for me to duck inside. “Are you sick? I could start some soup if you’d like.”

I am a bit hungry, I haven’t eaten today. Even so, it’s not what I’m here for. “Nah, it’s not that. I just... I need someone to hear me, I suppose.”

“I’m willing to listen, if you need me to.” Fluttershy says, a tiny fluffing of her wings which I think is some sort of body language, though I don’t know what for.

I sit down on her couch. It’s tiny, but the arms being a lot more distant from each other compared to a chair makes it not uncomfortable, so I don’t feel restrained, stuck or squished. “I suppose I should start with why I’m like this.”

“You can start anywhere you’d like.” Fluttershy moves to a chair nearby.

“Okay... I’ll get the easy stuff done first. So I woke up in a bit of a bad mood, and it didn’t exactly lessen from there. Twilight and I had a bit of a... an aggressive misunderstanding. I leave and go see Pinkie Pie and she’s obviously wanting to make me feel better. We talk a bit and she’d cheered me up.”

“But you still look sad.” Fluttershy notes. “Are... did something go wrong with Pinkie Pie?”

“Not as such.” I sigh. “She got me feeling better and we start trading jokes around. Some clean ones a couple gross ones, you know. But then she tells a joke that... uh... I didn’t take well.”

“Oh no, did she tell an insulting one? She does that sometimes, but I know she never means it.” Fluttershy replies, defending her friend.

“Nothing like that, no it was a ‘real’ joke. I just... I have a bad history with the exact joke she tried to tell. Really bad history.” I look down at the floor of her house. The rug looks like it could do with a bit of cleaning.

“Is it alright if I ask what that is?” She’s still quiet but a little louder. At least she’s sure of her questions.

“My grandmother. That joke was... it was the last thing I ever said to her.” Now that I’ve said it, I can’t help but get it all out. “She was always really nice. One of the few family members I completely liked. She was kind, humorous, and just a wonderful person. She was pretty old, but in rather good health, didn’t need much help with anything.” I feel my fist clench. “Then, she gets cancer.”

I hear Fluttershy gasp quietly. I figure it’s best if I continue, now I need to vent.

“Breast cancer. Can you believe it? This woman who had done nothing wrong, a devout Christian even. She was practically a saint... and she gets cancer. Of course, it was terrifying. I wasn’t a kid anymore, a fair way into my teens, but it was terrifying. We went to see her whenever we could, trying to be supportive and all through the chemotherapy and such. She was barely hanging on, but...” I chuckle a bit. “She was tough. Can’t tell you how many months she kept going, she was still happy and trying really hard to be energetic and she held on like crazy.” I shut my eyes. “But we knew it wasn’t going to be long. Soon she was given a prognosis of a couple weeks, and we go see her as usual. Everyone in the family is super quiet, nobody’s saying much at all, but they’re basically saying goodbye, you could tell by their tones.” Fluttershy doesn’t respond so I keep going. “I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want to say goodbye. I told her a joke. One I knew she’d like. ‘I used to have an ant farm, but I sold it. I couldn’t find tractors that small.’ and of course, old farm girl she used to be, she lit up like a Christmas tree.” I smile a bit, but I can feel my fists clench as I continue. “She only lasted a few days after that. Nobody was around when it happened. The last thing I did for her was try to make her happy... but I was too soon. If we’d postponed the visit by a few days, I could have let her die a few hours after. I could have left her happy but... who knows what she was thinking then? Nobody. Not one person got to hear any final words or give her a final message.” I grit my teeth. “Everyone in the family is broken up about it. I knew it was going to happen but I wasn’t prepared. All of us were sad. But... I never cried. I wasn’t one to cry in general but... This time I wanted to, more than ever before. It made me look bad. I looked sad, but I wasn’t crying, so... I couldn’t be that hurt, right? My sister even accused me a few times of not caring. What was I going to say to that, huh? And now, even to this day, when I’m forced to relive the feelings again, no tears. Never. I don’t cry. It’s just not me. Maybe I didn’t care much after all... I cared, but how much did I care really?”

There’s a thick silence before I get a response. “It sounds like you cared quite a lot, to me.”

“It just makes me... so mad. How? Why? How could anyone convince me after that? How could I ever stop believing that bad things will happen to good people for no reason? How can I just forget that the world is harsh, uncaring and unfeeling, to hurt someone so much for doing nothing but good? If I’m evil, I get ostracized and tortured. If I’m good, all that awaits me is the same death, possibly an even more painful one.”

“That’s why you’re mean, but not bad.” Fluttershy replies. “You’re scared of... being too nice?”

“Of being hurt for not deserving it. If I do deserve it, then fine; I had it coming. Only means that it’s on my initiative to deserve whatever shit gets thrown my way, but if I get too overzealous, then I’m just a criminal. People hate you for wearing a black hat, you’ll only get stepped on for wearing a white one... so I stay gray. If something bad happens, I should deserve every last inch of it, just to add a bit of fucking fairness to the random acts of cruelty by this sick twisted mortal coil.”

“The world is unfair... so you do bad things... to make it more fair?” Fluttershy seems to understand the ‘math’ behind it, but still looks very confused. “Okay, yes, the world is unfair. It is. But... wouldn’t it be better to just do good? To show that... you don’t care about how bad it is? That you’re better than it is?”

I roll my eyes. “Of course not... you do that, then suddenly everything nice or kind you do is done out of personal spite towards the world’s cruelty, not to be good for the sake of doing good. Being good for selfish reasons is so much worse than being genuinely bad.”

Fluttershy shifts her head and tries to hide her face behind her long pink mane. “I- I’m sorry, I don’t like this conversation... can we stop, please?”

I sigh and nod. “Sorry, there’s just... a lot of anger. So much fucking anger...”

“I understand that much.” Fluttershy says softly. “But we’d rather you be happy anyways.”

“How do I do that, exactly? How do I just brighten up?”

“Uhm... uh, you could...” She has a few more false starts. “Maybe... you could be happy from... us? Be a bit more open. Spend more time with others. Even if it’s not to be nice to us, you could still involve yourself more?”

I decide to correct a bit of misinformation. “I’m not against acting nice, it’s just that when I do act mean on purpose, I generally don’t feel bad about it. I’ve earned another year in Hell, rather than it being assigned to me for no reason. It’s my assurance. If I’m going to be punished for something, I should deserve the punishment. I’m a bad person for having done so many mean things, but that doesn’t mean I refuse to be kind.”

“I... suppose that makes sense?” She shifts in place, still rather unsure and uncomfortable. “Well, if you don’t mind being nice, then maybe that is what you need to do. Involve yourself, that is. See what others are doing, participate more. We all have our problems but we’re generally happy. We’ll share that with you if you let us. Maybe if you’re a little less mean we can make you feel happier.”

Really? She’s being serious? “You think I deserve that? To simply have others make me happy for the sake of my happiness?”

“It’s like I said before. I don’t think you’re a bad person, just confused. Maybe a little less confused than I thought... You do bad things, but it’s for a reason... even if it’s a strange one. If you ask me, that means you aren’t a bad person. If you were, it would be because you liked it or felt that there was no reason not to be bad.”

“There are more shades of gray than that... but I get what you mean, I suppose.” I clasp my hands and hunch down a bit.

Fluttershy nods. “So try that. Open up a bit more. Do more to be around us and maybe be nice or helpful, just don’t push us away like you do. We can’t make you feel better when you push away. Even if it doesn’t work out then... um.” She mumbles a bit but speaks up afterward. “What did you really lose by trying?”

There’s more questioning in her surety of her ask than of wanting my answer, but I nod. “Okay... I suppose I could do that. It’s not going to be easy. I’ve... I’m still not a very trusting person. Skepticism is how I avoid being abused.”

“Yes, you have a hard shell that you like to hide in to stay safe... but we can’t help you feel better if you don’t open up for us once in a while.” She smiles a bit. “It’s no good trying to feed a tortoise who won’t stick his head out.”

“Preach, sister.” I smile. “So aggravating.”

“Huh? Oh, right! You said you used to work with tortoises and turtles before.” She recalls. “See? There’s something we share... you may be surprised at how much you could have in common with somepony else. You just have to be willing to find that, and make something enjoyable out of it."

“Yeah, I suppose. Worth trying, anyways.” I stand up from the couch. “I’ll give that some thought. I think I should get going now.”

Fluttershy nods. “Are you sure you don’t need anything else before you go? You’ve been fairly negative, would you like a... a hug?”

Another pony offering to just hug me, like it’s a really casual question... Feels so strange for folks to actively try comforting me. “Uh, no, I’m alright. Don’t worry about it, I’ll let you get back to your day.”

She nods and I leave her house. Get myself more involved... I suppose it really couldn’t hurt to try.

Comments

[AZUR3]

Dude I feel for Anthony sometime you're just not able to cry when you need too.

[Even Evil Has Standards]

I can relate with Anthony. It's why I ask if crying on the inside counts.

[the-pieman]

10813784
Relating with Anthony is something I tried to make easy to do but still be rather bittersweet. There's more of that sort of thing later down the line, and I find it interesting to explore.

[Sl3dg3-682]

Felt like writing this down just cause. Anthony is more like a Alligator snapping turtle, tough as nails shell and one hell of a bite.

[the-pieman]

11295448
Anthony is definitely a Glass Cannon with his potential power output, he can do some serious theoretical damage... but I wouldn't call him "tough" at all. He gets himself hurt just as much as the folks he's fighting. Heck, I rarely ever have him get in a serious fight that he can simply walk away from on his own, after. Usually he passes out. He can do the damage but that doesn't mean he's any less vincible than a regular human, I never gave him any kind of super durability or healing. You punch Anthony in the face he might lose a tooth like any punk. It's not about your win/loss ratio, it's about staying alive, and he's gotten close to failing that a few times even though he "wins".

But regardless he is indeed a Glass Cannon with "One Hell of a Bite".