Chapter 13 - Generosity
10 Months Later
The Canterlot Independent Art Gallery had seen bigger crowds, but it had certainly seen smaller ones, too.
All in all, Rarity thought, a delightfully cozy turnout. Ponies of all walks of life strolled in from the bright, gas-lit streets of Canterlot, though most were aficionados of obscure art or oil painting. They huffed as they came into the warm air, brushed the light Hearth’s Warming snow from their coats and hats, then headed over to a table to sign the guestbook. Rachcoltinov played gently on a huge gramophone in one corner of the studio, and two ponies in white dinner jackets served hot spiced wine and fine cheese atop hard, crisp crackers. The little hall was filled with hushed conversation as ponies wandered aimlessly from display to display, their reactions mixed but decidedly contemplative.
All through the hall, mounted on pristine white walls, Toola Roola’s paintings hung in the glow of carefully positioned and metered lamplight, the gentle pulse of mantle fires washing over the oily ripples and strokes with a warmth the canvases hadn’t known in decades. It made for a startling contrast, those surreal and twisted paintings set before the bright, curious, and introspective of Canterlot’s elite. Rather than take offense at the juxtaposition, however, many of the visitors seemed at least intrigued by the strange and bizarre display.
“Excuse me,” one older stallion said, striding up to Rarity and peering at her curiously. “Am I correct that you are the sponsor of this exhibition?”
“I am indeed,” she replied, smiling brightly at him. She wore a pale blue sweater with a matching beret, and she had toned down the curls in her mane into gentle, shimmering purple waves. “How are you finding the art so far?”
“Well, it’s... curious, to say the least,” the stallion said, choosing his words carefully. “If I’m to be fully honest, though, I’m not sure that I care for it myself. It really seems a touch unpleasant, particularly at this time of year. I was hoping for something a touch more festive.”
“Well, I can certainly appreciate that. As it happens though, that’s precisely why I chose to sponsor during the holiday season,” Rarity explained, following as the stallion moved towards one the paintings. “There’s a larger story told by these paintings, and I felt it was a good time for ponies to explore it.”
“A story, you say? And what might that be?”
“Well, these works were painted by the artist near the end of her life. It’s my interpretation that she used the fantastic and the strange to portray emotions she didn’t know how to deal with, emotions that many of us try to shut down or hide away.”
Rarity stopped in front of the painting where a merry-go-round with the rotting words “Le Carrousel de Temps” painted on it presided over ruinous fairgrounds. “Whether she knew what she was doing is debatable, but I believe she infused these paintings with all the despair and hatred she had begun to trap herself in. The tragedy is that I don’t think they brought her any peace. They only served to amplify her misery, feeding into a self-destructive cycle that ultimately cost her life.”
“So why display them?” the stallion sniffed, raising an eyebrow at the apocalyptic scene. “Art should make ponies feel good, no? It should be inspirational, challenging, encouraging to growth, that sort of thing.”
“Art can certainly do that,” Rarity countered. “But we cannot deny that anger, frustration, even hatred and malice are a part of us also. Toola Roola’s legacy showed me that we’re too easily repulsed by these things, so we shun them, shut them out, and try to pretend we don’t see them. When we do that, though, we lose part of ourselves. This art forces us to acknowledge things we would rather didn’t exist. Sometimes, we need to be led to understand our darker sides, not hide from them.”
Rarity glanced at him to see if he was tiring of her explanation. He didn’t seem to be, so she carried on carefully. “There’s a little bit of magic in these paintings, I feel. I think if we can get just a little bit better at understanding our darker selves, learning to deal with pain and vehemence rather than hide it, we’ll get that much better at understanding others and helping them to work past their own pain. Toola Roola died alone, but with the help of others, we can dilute and dispel these darker things. That’s what I take from her life, anyway.”
“Well, that sounds a touch idealistic, but I can appreciate the sentiment. I would argue that such feelings are nothing more than passing fancies ponies should learn to control. Emotions don’t have any intrinsic power by themselves.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Rarity looked over her shoulder and smiled as she saw Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie wander into the gallery. “I think things like kindness and lightheartedness have a power all their own. Not all magic comes from spells and incantations.”
“Perhaps,” the stallion said, also glancing back. “Well, thank you for sharing your feelings with me. I think I can understand why the pieces have significance to you, at least.”
“A pleasure. Now, if you’ll excuse me...”
She left the stallion to his viewing and walked over to where Pinkie and Fluttershy stood waiting for her. As she walked, she took note of the various conversations she passed by. Most seemed to share the stallion’s confusion about why anyone would want to paint such things, but a few seemed to be speculating on the power the paintings seemed to have to stir up their emotions and what that could possibly mean. One Unicorn, a mare with a purple coat and a deep violet mane, seemed to be giving an impromptu lecture on the fantastique period and how deeply flawed the artist’s understanding of the movement must have been. Most ponies in her group seemed to be tuning her out.
Rarity didn’t mind. It wasn’t up to her how the art was received, or what ponies assumed about her for sponsoring it. It was out there, to impact or be forgotten by ponies however it happened to turn out.
Exactly as it should be.
“Hi Rarity,” Fluttershy said. “Are you ready to go?”
“I think so.” Rarity turned and surveyed the display one more time. “I’m positively famished. Are you still up to try that restaurant we saw on the way here?”
“You bet!” Pinkie said happily.
Rarity followed her friends out into the chilly mountain air and shivered, though she smiled as she took in the busy, festive streets around her.
“I do not feel like going back to Ponyville tomorrow,” she complained. “Canterlot winters are always so divine. After a week here, going back to old mare Hoarfrost’s idea of winter is going to kill me!”
“Oh, didn’t you hear?” Fluttershy asked. “She’s retiring. After the nine-day whiteout last year, I guess a lot more ponies have been saying maybe she ought to step down and let somepony else take over.”
“And she’s doing it?” Rarity asked, incredulous. “Thank goodness, I thought she would hold onto those clouds until she froze to them.”
“Well, I think she was getting tired of it herself,” Fluttershy chuckled. “Anyway, they actually hired one of my old friends from Cloudsdale to take over. She’s really nice, and I think she’ll want to run things a little more actively than just coating everything in snow all the time.”
“Oh, marvelous,” Rarity said, coming to the door of a brightly lit restaurant and holding it open for her friends. “You simply must introduce me to her when she arrives. I’m sure she’ll do a splendid job!”
* * *
“I am going to murder that weatherpony,” Rarity groused as she and Pinkie trudged up the muddy hill at the edge of Ponyville’s park.
“Aw, it’s not so bad!” Pinkie piped up, bouncing effortlessly next to Rarity. “Rain in winter can be fun!”
“Freezing rain?” Rarity snapped back, giving her bedraggled mane another shake. “Completely at random in the middle of town? If this Rainbow Dash is trying to one-up Hoarfrost for ‘worst winter manager ever,’ she’s off to a terrific start!”
“I’m sure she’ll get the hang of it,” Pinkie said, looking up to where several Pegasi were flitting about, trying to bring some order to the roiling, angry clouds that still lay overhead. “And at least they got it to stop. It’s a new town and new weather after all.”
“We’ll see,” Rarity allowed, walking through the low metal gate and in amongst the gravestones. There was a slight breeze, and while it chilled Rarity to the bone, the whispering sound it made as it blew through the dead grass and empty branches brought a nice serenity to the place. Any stronger and it would have sounded threatening, but it seemed that things were content to calm down now that the storm had faded.
A few rows in, Rarity turned aside and found the stone she was searching for. She placed one of the flower arrangements she carried at the base of a large, grey stone with battered, dog-eared book cutie mark carved on it.
They then walked a few rows farther back. Among the larger, better-tended burials was a small, city-funded marker of plain black granite. Toola Roola’s cutie mark—a brush with lines of paint swirling out from it—and her initials were carved there in shallow relief. Rarity bent down and arranged the small bundle of flowers she carried in the little vase built into the stone. Then she stepped back, nodding slightly in satisfaction.
“...Do you think she’s happy?” Pinkie asked. “Now that ponies are talking about her art again, I mean.”
“I don’t think we’ll ever know, Pinkie,” Rarity replied with a sigh. “Even now, I don’t think I have any idea what she wanted to achieve when she set out to start painting. But it’s a different world today than the one she grew up in thirty years ago. Ponies today are much more appreciative of unconventional art, so I hope this would have given her some joy at least, if she had have lived to see it. “
“Yeah,” Pinkie said. For a moment, they just stood there together, two ponies with their manes gently tossed by the wind around them. Then Pinkie asked, “Why are you doing it, anyway? I thought you decided those paintings were full of all kinds of evil Earth Pony magic.”
“That’s not it exactly,” Rarity said, eyeing Pinkie skeptically. “I believe she accidentally gave those paintings some kind of power, and that power is based in negative emotions, yes.”
“So why put them out there?” Pinkie asked. “Wouldn’t it be better to burn them or something?”
“I don’t think so,” Rarity sighed. “With Unicorn magic, at least, destroying something bound with magic only destroys a tether and sets the power loose. That’s how a lot of magical anomalies are created, actually. But there’s more to it than that.”
“How so?”
“I’ve come to think that if magic has a flaw, it’s that it makes us a little too quick to just try to obliterate anything negative we come across,” Rarity said. “It’s very tempting to just look for an instant fix, to destroy something or lock it away where we think we don’t have to look at it. And maybe sometimes that’s the appropriate response. But I decided it might be possible to take away the paintings’ powers by putting them out where everypony can see it and work to understand it. Some of the paintings might even be sold before they go back into storage, and I think that would also weaken it.”
Rarity turned and looked out over Ponyville. “I’ve learned that dark powers are strongest when we’re alone. Toola Roola made her own loneliness, trapping herself in a cycle of amplifying magic. She took it in, poured it out, and took it in all over again, and it killed her. She lived and died in her very own horror story. I was merely brushed with the aftermath, and you know what that did to me. Now that part of her isn’t alone anymore.”
“I hope you’re right,” Pinkie said. “And I hope this ends all that nasty magic for you.”
“I don’t think it will,” Rarity said, smiling sadly at Pinkie. “I don’t think it will ever be completely gone.”
“Why not?”
Rarity paused. Pinkie waited, head tilted curiously as Rarity turned back and looked down at the gravestone.
“...I still see her sometimes. Every now and then, I’ll be making something in my room, and the door will open. Then I’ll feel her watch me for a little while before fading away. Other times, I’ll be fitting a client in the mirror, and I’ll catch a glimpse of her, just at the edge of the glass before she vanishes. She and I are very alike. We nearly lived the same kind of life. But we’re different too, and I think she hated me for that. I know I’m not bound to repeat the same mistakes she did.”
“Isn’t there... isn’t there some way to get rid of her completely? Put her to rest or something?”
“If there is, I don’t know how. I’ve looked into it a little, but information on this sort of thing is vague and conflicting at the best of times. The most I’ve been able to piece together is that she isn’t really Toola Roola, not quite. It’s... more like an incomplete painting of her. I don’t know if it has enough real intelligence to want anything rational or be satisfied with anything. But as far as I can tell, we were able to come to some semblance of an understanding, all those months ago. And helping ponies understand what happened to her, giving her voice back in a way, seems to have weakened the power enough to give us the peace we have now. I’m content with that.”
“If you’re sure,” Pinkie said skeptically. “I don’t know that I could be.”
“That said, however.” Rarity turned a little and gave Pinkie a sidelong glance. “I’m afraid your promise about the boutique still stands. I don’t want anypony getting the idea that there’s something off about my shop. The last thing I need is for ponies to start coming to the shop for esoteric legends instead of dresses.”
“I’ve never said a word about it,” Pinkie affirmed. “And I never will.”
“Thank you, darling. I appreciate it, really.” Rarity smiled, but then she shivered and tugged her coat closer around her shoulders. “Ooh, it’s cold. I need to head back. Would you like to pop in for some tea?”
“Aw, thanks, but no thanks. I promised the Cakes I’d look after the bakery today.”
“Alright then,” Rarity said, heading towards the gate. “Thanks for coming with me. I’m sure she appreciates it.”
“Heh, no problemo,” Pinkie replied with a nervous chuckle.
Rarity parted ways from Pinkie in the park and made her way back home. The market was nearly deserted—thanks to the new featherbrain’s weather antics, she thought—and the few ponies she met passed with little more than a friendly greeting.
As she turned down the southern road, Carousel Boutique came into view at the bottom of the hill. It would be due for repainting in a few months; the brilliant white, purple and gold paint she had applied was already beginning to look a touch weathered. The circular windows she had ordered to replace the horrible rectangular ones greeted her warmly though, and the bright purple door seemed to beckon her home.
As she walked inside, warm air washed over her. Bright racks stuffed with custom designs gleamed in the light from the skylights she had built into the wider sections of the roof. The clean, shining mirrors scattered throughout the room amplified the light, and it almost felt like spring inside.
As she pulled her boots off and wandered upstairs, she pondered the next spring line she would put together. Gemstones were definitely coming back into style, and there was so much she could do with pastels.
I’ll have to get Fluttershy to model again for me—she was practically made for spring colors.
Before she started on her work, however, she walked past the sewing table in her bedroom and over to the line of trunks set along the wall. She mainly used them for storage, and as she opened one, she dug out several half-finished designs and scraps, laying them aside as she dug deeper and deeper into the trunk. At the very bottom was a carefully folded mass of black and white cloth, and as she lifted it out, she opened it and ironed out the creases with her magic. The black dress she had made ten months ago hovered in the air, as pristine as when she had first sewed it.
Rarity contemplated the dress. Irrational melancholy welled up in her as she looked at its old-fashioned collar and veil. She knew now that there was technically nothing wrong with it. Every inch of fabric was perfectly cut and stitched, and it was a masterful replica of Gilded Age formal wear, though with a modern flair.
What was wrong was that it made her feel sad in the exact same way the paintings made her feel angry or disgusted. She didn’t think she had Toola Roola's power or had transferred her emotions into it when she made it; rather, she suspected that when she took over the boutique, whatever power Toola had left behind had started to infect Rarity’s own art as well. It still brought a chill to her to think of how she had begun to be trapped in it, let alone how close it had come to literally destroying her.
But she couldn’t bring herself to get rid of the dress either. The things it represented—her own, very real feelings of loneliness, fear, and regret at the time—would always be a part of her. She couldn’t get rid of the dress any more than she could forget those first few months in the Carousel Boutique. She had been changed.
She suspected Ms. Dog-Ear had bought one of the old mirrors from the gallery and kept it in the library for a similar reason. Rarity often wondered if it was simple sentiment, or if Ms. Dog-Ear had sometimes glimpsed her old friend in the mirror, the way Rarity occasionally would. If so, Rarity thought she could understand why Ms. Dog-Ear would hold onto it. Even if it would be better to purge such things from their lives, Rarity wasn’t sure it was possible.
And so she kept the dress tucked away where it didn’t bother her much, and on the days when she couldn’t help but take it out and look at it, she usually made plans to visit with Fluttershy or Pinkie Pie as soon as possible to counter its strange power.
It’s not ideal, but when is anything ever ideal? she mused, folding it up again and piling the rest of the trunk’s contents back on top of it. That done, she trotted back to the sewing table, brightly lit by the large, oval windows in front of it, and lit the lamp above it just for good measure. The incandescent mantles blazed to life as the lines hissed gently. Reaching across the room with her magic, she wound the crank on her gramophone and lowered a record onto it, setting the needle down gently as she picked up her quill.
Just as she was about to get to work, however, she looked out and spotted her parents walking slowly down the road, an unsteady Sweetie Belle toddling along between them. Rarity rolled her eyes and sighed. As long as she lived in the same town as them, they seemed quite content to pop in unannounced at least every other week.
Still, Winter Wrap Up is a ways off. I can afford to put off sketching for a little while longer. With a smile and a shake of her head, she shut the lamp off and lifted the lever from the record, though she didn’t bother shutting off the rotating drive before returning downstairs. This time, she took several heavy pieces of protective gear just in case the weatherponies decided another rogue storm was in order.
As she was about to open the door, however, she felt a slight prickle on the back of her neck, causing her to look back at the showroom. All she saw was a room filled with the fruits of her hard work and ambitions. There wasn’t another pony to be seen. Yet she could just feel, like the tiniest breeze had passed by, a slight hint of envy and longing. Then it was gone, and the showroom was just a showroom once more.
Rarity smiled sadly, then opened the door and left the room behind her.
We only get one turn on this merry-go-round, Rarity thought, smiling and returning her parents’ waves as they led Sweetie Belle to the front of the boutique. We shouldn’t ride it alone.
From upstairs, Rarity and her family could be seen through the window as they made their way towards the park. Rarity picked up Sweetie Belle and swung her about, and her sister giggled and fought her magical grip. As the sound of their laughter faded, the soft clicking and clanking of the gramophone grew quiet as the spring wound down and the carousel slowed, the record falling still as the spinning came to an end.
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A wonderful piece. As with all good stories, I am sad to see it go but thankful to have experienced it.
An utterly masterful ending. Simply sublime. The imagery with the gramophone was chilling and heartbreaking, and the happy-but-not-really ending was perfectly tailored for the story. All-in-all, simply amazing!
Oh now that was a good ending. It just felt like that Rarity gave some hope to a wandering spirit which robbed it of its power. And will it ever go away? No, but it will always be there watching.
Beautiful. This was not only a very well written piece of atmospheric horror, but it also was a wonderful tale of how Rarity became, well, Rarity. The scene where she confronts Roola was tense and suspenseful and rather than destroying the evil with weapons or magic or wit, she instead defeats it using what made her special, her element of Generosity. It was really touching to see what Rarity did for her, in order to try and comfort her soul and in when I finally finished, I felt emotionally satisfied with what I had been following and read.
I take my hat off to you and bow.
Well, that was a read alright.
I have to admit, when I came back to this story today and saw that it was already finished, I was disappointed. Everything seemed to me to still be in full swing and I couldn't really see how you could have brought it to a satisfying conclusion this fast. Truthfully, I still think it is somewhat too abrupt. We found out a lot about Toola Roola in the lead-up to this, but it doesn't have the satisfying feel of having found out enough about her, that sense of "now to bring things to an end" that really signifies the climax of this kind of story. In my subjective feeling of how this kind of story flows and how its curve of tension should work, I would personally say it is about three quarters done.
At the same time, though, I have to say I liked the actual ending you brought it to. Another story might have gone for something more visceral - smashing the paintings, burning them, throwing them in a ravine, something like that. This, though, fits the character of the show and of Rarity herself so much better. Peace is achieved not by defeat, but through understanding and giving her the one thing she ever really wanted - someone who listens. I can respect that. While I may not be entirely convinced by the execution, the substance of it is something I can't criticize.
I think you produced an excellent work here and I enjoyed it thoroughly, little warts and all. It is a shame it got so little attention. By quality alone, it deserved more than that. I am looking forward to seeing whatever it is you write next. I do hope you will.
Oh my goodness Thornquill, you knocked it right out of the park with this one! I really hope you can hook it up with your narration :o)
(Looks at last post) Okay, so an inspiring speech did do the trick. Props for keeping it unpredictable - it really felt like the previous chapter's talk of "the sad face couldn't conceal the malice" was leading us somewhere else. This was... "Peaceful," is the word I choose. I like that it wasn't the usual at all - not for heroic horror, where it ends with burned paintings and banished demons. Not for usual horror either, where the monster wins or the heroes endure needless "OR DID THEY?" endings. Rarity made a truce with Tooly, and while I'd be fuckoff horrified at sharing space indefinitely with a ghost that tried to kill me, Rarity appears to be made of incredibly stern stuff.
I don't know how this works as a prequel - it's hard to picture your Rarity (who often sees a once-and-possibly-still murderous ghost) freaking out at all the little things of canon Rarity. But that's not a dig at the story. This is fine, great, suspenseful and chilling. Cheers to you.
I'm also going to ask, because we didn't get context later: did Rarity or Toola say this? Or is it meant to be ambiguous?
7244223 Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it!
7246006 Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it so much!
7248429 That was precisely what I was aiming to achieve with the ending, and thanks for all the feedback throughout! As I've enjoyed your own stories so much, your praise means so much to me.
7252572 That's very kind and thoughtful feedback. Thank you, I really appreciate it! I do understand where you're coming from regarding the pacing, and I'll keep that in mind for anything I may work on in the future. And I'm glad you enjoyed the story!
7257972 I'm glad you enjoyed the story, and thanks for all the feedback you've left!
This was meant to be ambiguous, simply because I wanted Toola and Rarity to be almost indistinguishable as characters at this point, both in the scene and leading up to it, as if their lives have come as close together as possible before a critical choice. Hopefully that worked to some degree.
I did have the strong parts of Rarity's character very much in mind when writing this; I see her as the type to almost enjoy being a little weak when it's frivolous, but also the character who kicked a manticore in a dark forest or helped take on the Changeling army. I'm glad that part was enjoyable for you to read, and again, appreciate all the feedback!
7259037 Looking forward to whatever you have in the future! :)
7259056
I'm looking forward to it.
7259080
I see the character in a lot of the same ways. Rarity is one of the few characters I think I could genuinely respect if I ever met them. She's a strong, young businesswoman who raised a creative, flourishing business from the ground up, with nothing but her own gifts, determination and drive to succeed, all while caring for a little sister. When the chips are down, she's always there right in the fray, pulling her weight and doing what she can.
Personally, I think of her more dramatic qualities as something not quite an act, but also somewhat tongue in cheek. Ultimately, she's a devoted entertainer, somewhat like Pinkie. What she wants to do is make people feel better. It doesn't really matter that much to her how she does it, whether it takes making them more confident about their appearance or using an improbable number of conveniently placed couches for props. In the end, what she wants is to be giving, and giving people a colorful drama queen to smile and roll their eyes over is a small price to day if it brightens their day even just a bit, isn't it? I can see myself in that a little.
7252572 I see what you mean that it just abruptly ended after this long build-up, but I honestly had no problem with it. My reasoning stems from two main factors, the first being that I like an air of mystery hanging in the air after the story is over and done with. After all, mysteries lose all their appeal the instant you explain them, and I thought that Thornquill lifted enough of the curtain to give us a glimpse of the horror without lifting it up all the way. This answered the basic questions but still left that air of mystery behind, leaving us with that haunting feeling that something else is lingering in the shadows, beyond our peripheral vision.
The second being that Rarity isn't an idiot. Once confronted with Toola trying to outright kill her, where else can you go? She would be suicidal staying there a minute longer, and short of re-writing the ending to 'The Amityville Horror,' or 'Poltergeist (1982)' there's not much you can do without making Rarity stubbornly obtuse, especially after the character development she's undergone. I saw no other option but for Rarity to confront Toola and try to make peace with her.
7262474
Well, like I said, subjective. Sense of completeness is very important to me in a story. By this I do not mean that you can't leave certain things open. You can and often even should. It's not the ending itself that I had problems with, as I said. I think it was very well executed and there were some really powerful scenes there. That moment when Rarity is in the gas-filled basement and Toola Roola walk-twitches down the stairs with a twisted grin on her face, or the one where Rarity sees her in the mirror, disfigured and in obvious pain and desperation, that was amazing.
It's just that one doesn't really lead to the other in a smooth fashion. It's not that I think it would have needed much, either - just another 2, at most three chapters, really - but it's still enough that I think the sense of closure isn't quite there. It doesn't feel climactic enough for how intense this story has been otherwise. It feels like there's something missing in between those two events. That it even sticks out as much to me as it does is really a testament to how good I think all the rest of it has been. If the flow and pacing hadn't been so perfect otherwise, I'm sure I wouldn't have noticed it nearly as strongly.
7262598 Oh, I understood what you meant, Hell, I even agree with you. I was just explaining why it didn't matter to me. You are one-hundred percent right, as the horror builds up... and just comes to a screeching halt like someone slamming on the breaks. To me however, it was the way the characters and story was handled that distracted me from this fact, and when I read your response, I said, “Hey, he's right.” It really didn't bother me the first time around, because like you mentioned, that scene with Toola entering the basement was f***ing piss-your-pants scary and for me, that was enough of a climax. If anything, I felt it should've ended after that moment, rather than continuing on. Ending it when he did was a good thing because there was no more character development to be had and no more chances for any serious s*** to go down, considering Rarity knew what was going on, and how to defeat Toola. So in my opinion, any more scenes would've been a pointless delay until 'The End.'
7262700
Fair enough, then, I suppose. It really comes down to taste. For me, there's just enough of a disconnect between those two scenes that it feels like there's a bit of a hole in the middle. It doesn't follow from each other in a way that really clicks with me. It's really up to everyone themselves how they feel about that and this is just my own opinion as well, based on I felt while reading it.
I really enjoyed this one. The atmosphere felt eerie and, like you said in the description, slow burning. Every time I thought something was about to go down, you managed to surprise me by still making the story wonderfully slow, while still keeping me hooked. In short, it was slow enough to keep the eerie atmosphere (never once felt rushed), but still enough happened to make it enjoyable.
Also, I liked the characterization, and the scenario you creates for how the mane six got to know each other before they met Twilight definitely feels plausible.
I think you must be a really talented writer to pull this off. Well done!
It really was a good story...Especially regarding it's atmosphere , you really managed to make the reader "feel".
Moreover , I really liked how the situation was resolved and the vision of art that was portrayed by it.
....shame it got so little attention
Congrats on your EQD feature selection, that's how I found this!
Congrats on the EQD schtick!
Things like this - spirits unable to rest due to unfinished business - are so powerful. This should be made into a film of some sort. Poor Toola Roola... all she wanted was for someone to listen--to appreciate her and her surreal art, yet when nopony did she grew miserable and bitter, than more and more miserable and hurt-filled, pouring that darkness into her paintings and feeding on it over and over until...
Toola-Roola
Toola-Roola starred in Meet the Ponies, Twinkle Wish Adventure, Sweetie Belle's Gumball House Surprise, Waiting for the Winter Wishes Festival, and Pinkie Pie's Ferris Wheel Adventure. She's an artist with a tendency to blow loose strands of hair out of her face. In Twinkle Wish Adventure, it was revealed that she's scared of the dark.
I'm so glad i checked EQD today and saw this. A very nice read with a powerful message.
Hey, congrads this got on EQD. Sorry my comment took so long ^^' but this story really hit home with me. Will get a video review come Halloween, buddy ;)
This certainly was a good story. One of the very few horror stories I actually enjoyed reading.
A few thoughts:
- I really enjoyed the atmosphere you set up. It was very oppressive and almost smothering. It brought to mind Poe's works as well as Lovecraft's non-Cthulhu Mythos stories.
- Toola Roola certainly was an interesting character. Her grotesque and twisted nightmare paintings reminds me of the late Zdzisław Beksiński's works. They certainly share a similar surreal, dystopian theme:
(These should be safe enough to link to from here, but be warned that Beksiński's other paintings can be much more grotesque. Caveat lector)
- Example
- Example
- Example
- Example
- Example
- Example
- The ending was nicely done and quite satisfying. Really wrapped up the story quite nicely.
Thanks for an enjoyable ride!
This may just be one of the best horror stories I've ever read; you have a really great way of portraying despair and terror through words, and there were times when I really felt bad for Rarity and, in the last two chapters, Toola, or at least what remained of her in spirit form.
I love the ending; not happy but not all sad, either. I like to think that this is canon in the show, and that whenever we see Rarity in her boutique, she's secretly seeing things that the viewer isn't seeing. Pretty chilling.
I'm not sure why this story has such a low rating. It's really bizarre to me, and I expect it to change in the coming months.
As a horror story it works really well. It gives me nothing if not the feeling of one of those lovely old black and white ghost stories set in Victorian times, where the oppression is as much if not more the situation that the characters are in as any spooky goings on. there are shades of 'The Shining' here as well, pleasantly so, and I was half expecting Rarity to become (even) more like Toola Roola before the story ended.
The unrelentingly stifling atmosphere builds essentially from the first chapter (to the point I half expected something scary to happen when Rarity was staying at her parents house) and doesn't let up! The suspense and the tension build deliciously as more and more unfortunate events befall Rarity in her attempts at starting up her business and setting out on her own. There are some really great creepy moments in this, and even a few fantastic dramatic moments that have nothing to do with the 'haunted' goings on and everything to do with Rarity's carefully laid plans unraveling around her.
And then it's all okay and the story is over. But not quite.
If the story had ended with chapter 12, I'd have a very different opinion of this story. It would've made for a good cliffhanger maybe, but it all of the action and tension seems to build to a deafening crescendo in chapter 11, and then the following chapter just completely does away with it. It was absolutely infuriating for things to finally be getting better for Rarity, but then all of that creepiness to have just been swept away as if it was never there to begin with.
But then you pulled it all together in Chapter 13. Toola Roola and her pain isn't simply swept away. Rather there is a realization that is had, I can't help but feel there are parts where you are you speaking directly to the audience.
One is, of course:
This is such an important message, and one that really resonates with me. I'm often saddened and even a little hurt when people dismiss the more horrible and ugly things in life, as if they have no value. The ghoulish and the gory, madness and melancholy, hatred and grief, fear and fascination, all of these things have an intrinsic beauty and value that I feel all too often is not simply overlooked but outright denied. I share the view that understanding these sometimes negative impulses and obsessions is tantamount to attaining a better understanding of ourselves and our fellow human beings. To have this message put forth so eloquently really lifted my spirits personally, and I think elevates the importance of this story as a whole.
I also liked how you seemed to imply, by there being no real problems previously with the Gallery until Rarity moves in, that Rarity was as much part of the problem as Toola Roola. Or to put it more accurately, Rarity reflected aspects of Toola Roola, and vice versa, causing both to torment the other... Rarity by trying to succeed where Toola had failed, and Toola by trying to make her more like her by forcing her to see the world as she had, which would have ultimately led to Rarity's failure if not her shared fate in death. It was almost touching that the reason when Toola Roola was so active around Rarity was because she sympathized with her, but not all sympathies are positive... Familiarity breeds contempt.
Even so, Rarity learns to let go of those negative emotions she was harboring, robbing the specter of it's power, but not entirely dispelling it. Because trying to do that would be a mistake in and of itself. Instead Rarity holds on to just a bit of her grief, but keep it at an arms distance, buried where it can't bother her but no longer bottled up where it can fester.
It's a very poetic ending, and as such, it goes a long way to help alleviate some of the frustration over the lack of catharsis for all that tension earlier in the story.
I do have one question though, which I will spoiler for the sake of those reading the comments without reading the story first. In one of the early chapters, before Rarity has had anything to do with the Old Town Hall, she walks past the cemetery and sees a pink pony fro ma distance, before walking through White Tail Woods and feeling as though she is being followed. I assume that the pony in the Cemetery wasn't Pinkie Pie, and that Toola Roola had an interest in Rarity before she even opened up shop. If this is the case, was the spirit truly attracted to Rarity before she even bought her new home? If so, why? Or was this just meant as foreshadowing?
7391299 I'm glad you enjoyed it so much! Thanks for sharing some of your thoughts on the story, it's quite helpful.
To answer your question, yes, it is Toola in the cemetery at the beginning, and she does take an immediate interest in Rarity. She notices Rarity as a fellow artist and because she feels similarly despondent and dismissive of the town, and immediately begins to influence her and try to draw her in closer. This why Rarity's ideas about the boutique are described more from a painter's view when she enters the house - Toola's power over her mind starts taking hold as early as possible.
7355960 Wow - his works were actually some of my earliest inspirations. He was a brilliant artist, glad that influence carried through a little!
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Oh that's just fantastic! I didn't even notice that until you pointed it out just now. Very well thought out!
Slow-burning, atmospheric horror indeed. Everything comes together beautifully to create one intense story that's just the right amount of unsettling
This was, no, is a grand story and it was an extreme pleasure to watch this story from the beginning to the end. However, I do wonder about some things, like how deep of an impression Ms Roola made upon Rarity's psyche? Is the spirit merely an illusion, something that no longer can directly effect the world, or is it more akin to the situation between Pinkie Pie and Pinkimina, where if Rarity becomes too emotionally destabilized, the specter comes into control?
Just realized what this reminded me of. The haunting bit reminds me of the Overlook from The Shining... The book version not the movie. Kubrick did not do it justice in my mind... Except for casting Jack Nicholson... That was a good idea.
Though it is more of the kind of haunting that happens at the beginning of the book instead of the end...
That place is messed up.
Well, that was a fun read. I'm a sucker for Rarity stories where she gets thrown into something trial by fire, suffers plenty of hardship for it, but comes out the other side stronger for it. She's still somewhat haunted by Toola Roola's spectre here, but she conquered it, and in the process, her own character traits that were a reflection of Toola Roola: feeling alone, stressed out, and anguished that her ambitions were getting shut down one-by-one. It makes me wonder how much different things would have turned out if Rarity wasn't stressed out mid-way through the story by the Canterlot Art Society revoking her grant. The story is decently and consistently symbolic without going overboard, too.
I'm not too disappointed about not finding out much about Toola Roola. She was a loner, after all, and after her phantom killed off Dog-Ear, there's only going to be what older ponies remember bits and pieces of about that strange artist pony who lived in the old town hall. I'm assuming it's not just the paintings that Toola Roola infused part of her power into, but also the mirrors in her home, since she evokes the mirror metaphor in her one interview: and it's through the one mirror getting auctioned off to Dog-Ear that Toola Roola is able to invoke power in the library to kill Dog-Ear, instead of her power being restricted to the town hall.
It does look like Pinkie Pie will be the only other pony to know the truth about events. Honestly? I don't know if it would really fit into the flow of the story, but a scene that may have been nice to see is months down the road, Rarity uses Pinkie Pie as a make-shift therapist by telling her about the extent of what the house did to her (especially the nightmare about her sewing Sweetie Belle's mouth and nose shut), just so that she doesn't have to keep that part all to herself.
Oh Twilight
. Though I do wonder, at least in the context of this story, how Rarity would regard Twilight as the new librarian of Ponyville when she comes to town, knowing of Dog-Ear's tortured past.
It'd be interesting to have started reading this without knowing that it was a ghost story. I don''t know that I would've read it without knowing that, but reading a story about Rarity first starting out and *not* knowing why she's suddenly feeling watched or hearing things sounds like it would've been intriguing. More so than it already was of course, but it's definitely a slow burn. And of course, one of the great things about horror is how it intersects with drama or slices of life; the fantastic intruding upon the every day.
Demons and ghosts are special creatures in the horror pantheon in that they are the ultimate foil and challenge to the instinct of using violence to solve a problem. Even though horror is already very much about those things you can't just shoot (the unseen monster in the shadows, the endless zombie hoard you can only hold off, the psychopath who finds you unarmed or strapped to a table, the curse, the transformation of your mind or body from within), ghosts and demons are things you shouldn't even bother imagining violence on. It's not a matter of being unarmed or not enough ammo or not being able to get a good shot, you completely have to think outside the box and deal with it without force. It is of course a theme acknowledged directly in the last chapter of the story, and it's the philosophical themes and human struggles that I love about good horror.
Demons and ghosts are allegorical to our own failings and this is one of those stories in which the relationship is very clear.
It's also interesting to note there was no *actual* ghost, and Rarity referring to all ghost stories as made up in Look Before You Sleep still makes sense. This is the third MLP fanfic that has used magic as a stand-in for hauntings by ghosts and I've only actually read one fanfic where ghosts are actually encountered in Equestria; Synchronicity, and even in that fic the ghost stories were still made up. For all the fantasy in MLP, the genuinely supernatural spirits of the dead are often treated as mere fantasy, both by the show and often by the fandom. Of course, it helps to actually have magic and nightmare-entities to go bump in the night instead.
It was interesting to see the contrast and similarity between Rarity and someone with such less than pretty tastes, someone I'd otherwise imagine Rarity shunning out of revulsion, but here they start out so similar and become even more so throughout the story, and eventually Rarity is the one to find and bring out the beauty in such nightmarish art. That speech about understanding the darker part of ourselves rather than shunning them so that we may better help others was awesome and I'm sure appreciated by everyone with a taste for the macabre. I also recognized it being the same as a youtube comment you once left on a review of Cupcakes. Author Avatar indeed, but not in a bad way, it's great to read a story that discusses art itself and has something to say and is a message I'm definitely glad to see.
The entire epilogue chapter was like a continuous reflection by Rarity on dealing with the things you initially find repulsive, about not giving in to the instinct to eliminate it, whether that's using the opportunity to try to understand or by diluting its power with friendship and generosity. I love seeing stories end on those threads of philosophy and reflection, making the story just as much a discussion as a tale.
Great work!
Thorn, you there?
This is one of the few grim-dark stories I have read that has a happy ending, for the most part. Rarity is alive both physically and mentally, her bond with her family and friends remains strong, and her business is becoming successful. After everything she went through, it does me good to know that everything is well with her.
As for the antagonist...............it is still around but has lost both power and most of the influence over Rarity. I had these emotions slowly become one over another as the story progress: dread, then anger, then hatred, then finally, pity for the villain. *sigh* It is a tragedy that it will never find peace either in life or death.
Pinkie Pie has proven to be a reliable character I grew to love in this story.
I very much enjoyed this story and am only saddened that it has only received little attention. You have my David Crespo stamp of approval.
This story is hands down the best grimdark I have read on this site. It has slow buildup, creating oppressing atmosphere that got a grip on me and didn't left even after I've finished the fic. One of the reasons why it got under my skin was that I could relate to Rarity so much. I am a creator as well (I make jewelry) and I know exactly how it feels to search for a safe place where one can create in peace. I have my small workshop, which is my safe haven and the idea that it would be invaded by something malicious is truly terrifying one. I also know the pressure of a bold idea that pushes one to keep working, ignoring all needs like for food or sleep. I felt I was there with Rarity when she was desperately trying to make Carousel feel like home and sew the spring line, pushing through the crushing ambience, sleep deprivation, burning eyes and headache just to realize her stitching keeps coming up crooked. Sweet Celestia, how I felt for her. Thornquil, in your story you manifested one of my worst nightmares. And I loved it!
The language was outstanding. It was quite pleasurable to read, to feel the sentences smoothly flow through my mind. Oh, how I wish this masterpiece would be turned into a dramatic reading.
I'm trying to come up with some critique but I am at a loss. The only thing I can think of is the escalation of the finale. It wasn't until the half of the basement scene till I realized "Oh, this is the final showdown". Unfortunately, I am not able to pinpoint if there was a flaw in story-telling structure or if it was just my own inattention.
I wish I could write you something more structured, something you could use to further your writing skill. At lats, I am no literary critic or analyst. I am but a humble fan, who likes to read horror stories about adorable ponies. But I really wanted to let you know that I loved your fiction and can't wait to read more of your work.
I apologize for eventual spelling or grammar mistakes. English is not my first language and here I strove to write something more sophisticated, which unfortunately also means there is high probability of mistakes or even not making any sense. I am sorry if some of the sentences sound weird or even negative. I assure you, it was not my intention.
In conclusion: If you would publish this story I would buy it and put it in my bookshelf right next to H.P.Lovecraft stories as my all time horror favorite.
Please keep writing Thornquil, you're amazing at it
(you are also amazing at dramatic readings, I love all stuff you have on your youtube channel)
PS: When your described Toola's paintings I imagined a pony version of the transformed painting from move In the Mouth of Madness. I wonder if it is similar to the picture you had in mind?
8490993
I just found out about this fic from your channel and started listening and it's amazing.
You're both wonderful.
8500086
Didn't get a notification of your comment -- sorry! I'm very glad to have helped, but Thorny gets all the credit for awesomeness. ^-^ I can only work with what he gave me.
8490993
After you pointed that out to me and I started keeping up with your adaptation, I was surprised to see exactly how strong that theme really does run throughout. And it was a complete accident. I've had a few interesting themes pointed out to me since I finished this story that I didn't realize I was following at the time of writing it. One savvy commenter pointed out there's a constant usage of suffocation, whether it's the atmosphere or the event with Sweetie Belle or the final confrontation. I didn't actually intend to have that link built through all of it, but I was thrilled it was one that worked.
This one, much less so, since it builds to a turnout that doesn't happen. It may be part of why many commenters have said they found the ending a little unsatisfying. Indeed, it goes completely against what I was building towards for the ending. I absolutely did not want an explosive and grandiose final showdown as happens in so many horror stories. I wanted to keep the horror at a very intimate and personal level. The idea was to explore just how a dark a being a simple, mortal creature can become if it chooses, and that it doesn't need demons or unbelievable powers to do it. This accidental theme definitely doesn't work in favor of the story, and I'll own that as a mistake. If I had caught it during review, I definitely would have fixed it. That, however, is the nature of learning from a finished work, so I'm glad you discussed it.
So the source really was Toola Roola, and not just her repeating an older ghost's sins? I couldn't quite be sure until right at the very end there.
Absolutely fantastic story, though, I'm so glad I got to read this finally. :D
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Oh wow, thank you! I'm so glad you enjoyed it!
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You're welcome! :D Now answer my questions, you yutz! >:V
Premise is more than enough to grab my attention
Oh my. This has been a very good story all along, but this ending is just sublime. It hits all the right notes, and ties up the story beautifully. Including the minor mystery of Rarity's dissatisfaction with the little black dress!
If you ever write more ponyfics, I will surely read them. You've got true talent.
Extraordinary piece, you blended all the sub-plots so effortlessly, your pacing is great and it was perfect execution in slow burn horror.
One question: Not sure if I missed something, but in chapter 1 why did "Toola Roola" start following Rarity in the forest before Rarity had even considered starting a business in the Old Town Hall?
bravo bravo i am vary happy i found this story.
this is a good read and gives a good look at how Rarity came about to own Carousel Boutique.
defiantly a vary good read.
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Oh, thank you