The Ticket Master
White space.
White towards the unreachable horizon, white towards the neverending floor, and white towards the endless ceiling. It was kinda fitting that my dreamscape was exactly like the limbo in which I met Death face to face. I smiled forlornly at the memories. Only weeks had past since then, and it already felt nostalgic.
That’s right, I’m lucid dreaming.
Not to say that this was how I naturally found it though. When I first came to in a dream, swarms upon swarms of memes and references littered the metaphorical landscape.
Dreams work differently in this world. Instead of the dreary subtleties that dreaming was like in my original world, dreaming in the cartoon was more vibrant and deliberate. The flash animation-esque reality carried over to even the mindscape.
Death briefly explained to me how each world will have their own set of rules. In a sense, that just meant my soul had to follow the rules of this world, human or not. Not like I could complain. Being allowed to remember my dreams as though it was real life in this world was a luxury in itself.
Turning my dreamscape empty was almost as simple as pulling the plug on a tub, or a flick of a switch. Rage faces littered the phantasmal skies in one moment and an infinite canvas in the next. Well, not exactly empty.
Exhaling deeply, I approached a door. An ordinary door, exactly like the one for my apartment in my original world, as plain as my natural tone of voice. At first, it didn’t seem to lead anywhere, the other side just bare space if one would peek around. However, the subtle sounds of inane dubstep betrayed that fact. Metal chains, surrounding it as though it were duck tape, clinked as I tested it with a pull of a wing. Tight and taught, just as I wanted.
With a satisfied huff, I backed away and conjured a beanbag to lay on. No dramatics, no effects—the beanbag just appeared as though it was always there, and I immersed myself in its awfully realistic, sinking sensation.
Behind that excessively locked door was a glimpse into my mind. My manifested memories, memes, and medias existed there, sealed away so that it won’t directly appear in the surface of my dreamscape. It took me a while before I got a hang of molding my dream world, and I wasn’t sure if it was possible when I first tried, but practice helped me fully realize how much control I had over it. My mind, my rules. The people in this world here had it good.
The reason why I did this was simple: I didn’t want Princess Luna stumbling about in my mind. Guarding my psyche from horrendous nightmares was fine, but her finding out my human origins would overcomplicate things.
That, and there’s only so much Donald Trump gifs that I could handle.
Now that she returned from the moon, building a “firewall” became a priority. To make the last minute touches, I slept in during the Summer Sun Celebration. Still am. Whether or not it’ll actually work, though, I had to wait and see.
“What do you think, Luna?” I asked outloud. “Think this’ll keep you out?”
“Twas a clever ploy!” Princess Luna, in her awesome and awkward glory, responded next to me with her Royal Canterlot Voice, which boomed across my mindscape, a classic from Season 2. “Upon entrance, a novice would notice the peace at the surface but lose sight of what’s beneath! One must look for the door that leads inside, which is also heavily guarded. We obviously knew upon arrival, but even if we wanted to glimpse within, thy defense is as impregnable as the will thou displayed during our disgraceful return.”
“Well, that’s the theory,” I agreed. Then, I turned to face her. The dream construct’s appearance was the same as when last saw Luna, yet domineering as she will be in Season 2. “Now that I think about it, what do I do about you?”
She blinked, pointing at herself. “Us?”
“Yeah.” I turned away, not sure if it’s right to look her in the eye. “When I first accepted your friendship, it was out of my own selfishness.” I said scowling, and the landscape dimmed slightly for a moment. The dream construct noticed, glancing wearily around. “It’s like looking into a mirror. You were living proof that, no matter how great I am or what I did, I can still end up alone. It’s unfair. I hated it. In a way, by accepting your offer, I wanted to prove that wrong. But then...our bond… Is it even real?”
I chuckled humorlessly. It’s kinda sad, really, me whining to best pony. Taking advantage of my dream abilities like this was probably not healthy.
She smiled. “Even so, we are most grateful of what thou did for us.” The sincerity in her words felt so real that my eyes widened.
“...”
“...”
“...you’re not a part of my dream, are you?”
“We are not!” she said happily. “We are proud that our royal presence is strong enough for thee to notice.”
Fuck. It took a few seconds before I felt the hot humiliation. Fuck! I groaned, rigorously scratching my mane as my wings slapped over my face. The door thrummed in reflection of my embarrassment, of which I was quick to shut it up in indignation.
“It’s an entire season too early for this!” I cried under my wings.
“Do not be embarrassed, my dear friend! We are charmed by your concern!”
“Not helping,” I grumbled as I pulled my wings away from face with another sigh. “It's only been a day, Your Highness, and you’re already taking up your nightly duty. Is it okay for an alicorn princess to push herself?”
Her response was a pleasant chuckle, a contrast to her next loud lines. “If we want to get back to our subjects, thy precious princess must vigorously return to her routine after over a thousand years in absence! We are impressed, friend! I believe that few can know of our activities after such a long time.”
My eyes flickered towards the chained door. “Thanks.”
“And fret not! We know very well the importance of rest. We are still in a weakened state, but soon our true glory shall return!” Declaring this, her wings sprung forth as her hoof reached the skyless sky. “We also must apologize for the lack of royal manners upon our first meeting, but with this, we believe this shall suffice!”
I blinked. “You came to visit me?”
“Why of course, friend!” Then, Princess Luna gazed at the door that contained my dreams with a frown. “But it seemed thou had expected us.”
“...yeah,” I confirmed awkwardly. I hide my wince well as I convinced myself there was nothing to fear; Just a cartoon. “Don’t get me wrong, Your Highness, but there are some things that I don’t want even you to see.”
“We understand, but we must scold thee for thy methods.” She leveled a look at me. “Locking thy dreams away is not a healthy way to handle thy psyche. Dreams should be a place to nurture thy desires and ambitions, a resting place from the day.”
“Desires and ambitions, huh?” The words in particular rang hollow to me. “You and I both know how dangerous it could be for others.”
She winced. “We know, but far be it for us to deny our subjects the joys of dreaming.”
“Not sure if I could enjoy dreaming like you said.” I hopped off the beanbag and approached the chained door. With a hoof on the doorknob, the chains faded into a dusty, silver glow. A twist, and the door opened slightly. Dubstep intensified. I glanced back at Luna. “Take a peek, if you please.”
I stepped aside so that Princess Luna, who had a brow raised, could peep her head through the door. She gasped. My secret wasn’t under threat, though. What she should be seeing was my second layer of defense: A land of complete and utter chaos.
Disbelief enveloped her voice. “W-what manner of monstrosity is that?!”
I believe Godzilla should be roaming the fair parody of Zootopia right about now.
“Are those flying trains...fighting it? And breathing fire?!”
And Skyrim’s Thomas the Engine mod did left an impact on me…
“And are those delectable kittens falling from the sk—By my sister’s fake shoes!”
Judging by the seizure-inducing rainbow flashes alongside explosions of epic proportions, Godzilla just got nuked by a volley of nyan cats. I took it as my cue to close and re-chain the door, the blissful silence returning.
“So what do you think?” I said, smiling nervously.
“Our subjects’ are mild in comparison…” she breathed. Human imagination gave her quite a shock, it seemed. I didn’t expect it to work so well either.
“It made for some eventful fever dreams. But it doesn’t help that it makes sleep hard.”
“So thou art exhausted.”
“Yeah. Not a problem anymore, though.” I tilted my head towards the chained door. “And I get to catch up on sleep.” Rather than skipping it in favor of reading books throughout the night, I failed to add.
“Explains why thou made such a display in front of my sister,” she said with a grin.
“I regret nothing.”
“Your peers seemed to disagree.” Her eyes gleamed of mischief. “Give us company, and we shall consider not to tell that to our sister.”
I opened my mouth to reply but paused as I replayed that sentence and honed in on a single word: Company. Somehow, I didn’t really mind that. My lips stretched up on their own as a warm, familiar feeling welled up inside. I’m not sure if it’s my imagination, but the mindscape suddenly felt a lot brighter.
“By your command, princess.” Clapping my wings, I conjured a scene for us. A cozy room flickered into existence, adorned with fluffy carpets and embroideries that took in the warmth from a fireplace against the wall.I stepped up to a wooden table in the middle, a tray of imaginary tea on top. “Care for some?”
She returned the gesture with a bright smile. “We shall.”
And as I poured some, I had to ask, ”So… Celestia’s fake shoes?”
Revisiting Lessons - Chapter 4:
Season 1 Ep. 3
The Ticket Master
Twilight was a diligent soul. Late into the night she studies and early in the day she wakes. It was by the third chime of chirping birds when she left her room, a frazzled mane and sloppy, yet satisfied, smile as company. She yawned deeply, proclaiming that, yes, it was a most glorious sleep indeed. Now, her majestic gait down the stairway unveiled her greatest desire: Breakfast.
When she turned her head, though, she screamed.
“T-Tutorial?! What are you doing here?!”
“I sleep here.”
Blinking, she looked down at where I lazily sat. Carefully wrapped in newspapers, each book made up the base of my amazing hobo bed. Ink and paper, proudly dating months back acted as both cover and blanket, of which I covered myself with as I laid eyes on a gripping tale of Daring Do in my hooves.
“...Oh.” She blinked again. “Um, I could’ve gotten you the spare bed.”
“A stallion and a mare in the same room? Rather not hear it from Rarity. She’d find it scandalous.” I turned a page. “Besides, sleeping in a pile of books is a bit of a dream of mine.”
Twilight perked up in interest at my declaration. “Really now?”
“Hehe! You should’ve seen Twilight!” Spike, looking fresh as a hot potato, came down ahead. In comparison, Twilight looked like the savage. I had to admire his ability to keep up appearances even after sleep. “She’d stay up all night back at Canterlot reading books, and end up sleeping buried in them.”
“Spike! You’re exaggerating!” Twilight said indignantly. “And he doesn’t need to know that.”
I looked up from my book and stared. “Shall I allocate some of the less valuable books for your personal use?”
“N-no!” she denied with a flush.
...she definitely wanted to.
“Anyways, want breakfast, Tutorial?” Spike offered. Already with an apron on hand, he entered the kitchen as he wrapped it around his waist.
I took a moment to admire the masculine pink and frills it had before setting my book down, “Sure. Just make it light. I’ll be going off to work soon.”
Breakfast for the morning finished eventfully, but as I downed my syrupless pancakes, as faithfully requested to Spike, I caught Twilight giving a few cursory glances toward my bed. I almost choked on my breakfast in keeping up my poker face. To feel proud of my humble bed was probably wrong.
Soon enough, I left for work.
There's a mild hush in the wind, another one of its kind I couldn't help but pick up.
“H-hey, isn’t that him?”
“He dismissed the Summer Sun Celebration...right in front of Celestia!”
“Sure about that? What does ‘fuck’ even mean? Is it really a word?”
“I don’t know, but maybe it’s a part of the mysterious language he writes in.”
I ignored the eighth bit of gossip about me I’ve overheard for the day and just shrugged my weighty saddlebags steady as I trotted through town. The ponies’ innocence to curse words was nothing new. Although, I honestly thought I would be physically barred or censored if I said some.
Still, the ponies sure loved to talk. Ever since the Summer Sun Celebration and my blatant disrespect to Celestia’s sun, their weariness of me increased tenfold. My "noble sacrifice" was completely forgotten. I half expected hostility, but then I realized that most of the populace were total wimps. Never bothering to understand, neither bothering to confront—it was the familiar cold shoulder that I knew of from my previous life. The alienation was...dark for a colorful, friendly world as this.
Their frailty and innocence can be so cruel.
Death made it clear that this world was conceived directly from my imagination, a copy of the original for my own use. My world, my rules—just like in my mindscape. If creationism was all it was cracked up to be, I’m technically the god of this world. Although, I respect the one and only Fausticorn too much to allow myself to become a false idol. Besides, I had to follow the rules myself.
Too bad I have yet to be assimilated to their society despite being very familiar with them. Still gotta work on my “hoof writing”. I was too embarrassed to admit how bad it was that I excused it as “another language.” The ponies had certain expectations of pegasi such as myself, but too bad I couldn’t fly. Officially, I was deemed “disabled.” Didn’t bode well for my resume.
I must give Zecora tons of respect for surviving in similar circumstances. I’m not sure how far I could bullshit into pony society. Working odd jobs won’t sustain me in the long run, not with the volatile nature of requests. Speaking of…
I opened the flap of my saddlebag and took a peek. Inside? Packaged pastries.
In Ponyville, they’re considered fragile goods, and this town had an unsurprising sweet tooth, courtesy of Sugarcube Corner and other stores. The bigger picture behind it though was that ponies generally buy these for their fellows as a show of neighborly love and friendship. The only issues was that not everyone had the time and most stores can’t spare the horsepower to make deliveries. And that’s when I come in.
There was a number of requests in the request board for personal delivery of these delicacies, and I managed to snag a few. I was familiar enough with Ponyville to plan a route, so, as I made my deliveries, I would pick up a few more and repeat. Although, I found it a bit odd. This town definitely had a postal system. Couldn’t they use that instead, or was it just too expensive?
I couldn’t complain. I’m lucky enough to be trusted with fragile items at all. There’s only one problem though: I get paid in pastries. The same ones I’m delivering. Not cold, hard cash but food with enough sugar to kill me.
Sighing, I lament over this world’s version of IOU’s. “At least I won’t be going hungry anytime soon.” But then, I blinked. Squinting, I saw a figure, flailing about near a humble home in the distance. “Wait, is that...?” As I got closer, I could make out a pony...stuck in a mailbox. When I stood right in front of the scene, I recognized the struggling pegasus immediately. I stared passively at her bubbly cutiemark, half amused and half bemused. “Haven’t I seen this in a fanfic before?” I mutter.
Upon noticing my presence, the pony stopped wriggling.
“U-uh, hello? Is somepony there?” The pony before me, stuck head and front torso first, was the ditzy mailmare, famously known to the fandom as Derpy Hooves. She uttered in a cutesy voice that airily echoed from inside the mailbox, “Please! Can you help me out?”
How she could manage to fit inside at all, I refused to think about.
“Yeah. Hang on.” Biting her tail, I tugged as far as I could without hurting her. We strained and grunted, but it’s no use, she’s firmly trapped. Spitting out the hairs of her tail, I clicked my tongue. Didn’t budge. “This...might take a while.”
“Oh no… I’m going to be late again,” she bemoaned.
With brow raised, I looked to the ground and then winced. There, a multitude of letters lay messily scattered for all to see. I recognized a few names and addresses, some letters sharing the same ones. Even if she got out, it’ll take some precious time to organize and clean up.
“There, there,” I said tiredly, patting the mailbox in an effort to comfort her. The mailbox clanked dully with each pat. I stopped. “Hm?” Examining the mailbox from top to bottom, I noticed the odd yet organized bits of reinforcement added along it’s frame and pole. “You crash into this mailbox often? It’s...stitched up. And upgraded.”
“Mhmm.” I could imagine her nodding inside the box with her dejected reply. “The pony who lived here got tired of fixing it all the time. We became good friends though!” she giggled. It must’ve been a fond memory if it brought her out of her funk that quickly. “Buuut, every time I come here I...crash and get stuck inside the mailbox.”
I deadpanned. “Always?”
“Always.”
My sight wandered to the letters on the ground. “That must've been a lot of late mail. And packages.”
“The postal service used to do packaging, but lately ponies decided to take it to the request board. Around the time the new pegasus pony arrived, I think.”
I grew inexplicably conscious of the fragile baked goods in my saddlebags and, suddenly, everything made so much sense.
I looked to where her body entered the mailbox. Near the rim of the opening, there was cotton, which allowed her coat to avoid chaffing. “Padding. You’re friend has been taking care of you.”
Like a puppy, her tail swished side to side. I had to admit, it’s pretty cute. “Oh, he’s nice like that. Sometimes, when I have a problem, he knows what to do. He even got these weird and fun inventions in his home! He practically thinks of everything!”
“Everything, huh?” That gave me a thought. Upon closer inspection, the bottom side of the mailbox seemed bulkier than it should, almost as though it’s hiding a mechanism. Fumbling around the box to confirm my suspicions, I asked, “Don’t suppose your friend is around to help?”
“He’s in a trip to Manehatten for a...uh, convention. Just left for the train this morning.”
“A busy guy then.”
“He’s always busy,” she agreed. “Always talking about the biggest thing, about these wild, amazing ideas that just goes over my head. I thought he’s an alien sometimes,” she scandalous whispers, and I choked back a spit take. She thought I was laughing, and giggled along. “But I like him anyways, even if he’s super crazy with his science thing. He’s ambitious like that.”
I perked up at that. “Ambitious, huh? What about you? Have any dreams to fulfill?”
“Dreams? I have the bestest friends a pony could ever ask for! What more could I want?”
“...is that right.”
I took a step back from the fumbling and sighed. There had to be some gimmick to the mailbox if it’s custom made for Derpy. If he’s as smart as she said, then he must’ve thought of this scenario. But hold up, then that must also mean she should have a way to access it as well. When I laid eyes on the lid of the mailbox, hanging like the way Derpy’s hind legs did, I smirked in realization.
“Oh, you’re friend is clever.”
“Huh?”
“Use your leg to push against the lid of the mailbox. As I said this, I easily picked up the letters on the ground into a neat stack with a swish of my wings, not minding the dirt. I shuffled them so that ones with the same recipients and addresses would be right next to each other. ”You’ll see.”
Wriggling once again, Derpy kicked about against the lid. There was a click and—Pop!—just like that, the entire roof of the mailbox expanded, giving her just enough room too finally free herself without further hassle.
She stretched her wings up high. “Ah~ Free at last!” She turned to me. “Thank you Mister—” But when she saw who I was, she stopped. “Oh.”
It seemed my reputation continued to precede me. As much as I felt the disappointment, I couldn’t say I didn’t see it coming. I gave her my customary salutation.
“Hi.” Still in desperate need of a personality. Knowing me, it’ll suddenly turn into an awkward staring contest, so I broke the ice and presented the organized stack of letters to her. “Name’s Tutorial.”
She dropped it into her own mailbag. “M-Muffins.”
So she’ll go by the final official name, huh? Her name changed a few times ever since the episode, “The Last Roundup.” From Derpy Hooves, to Ditzy Doo… When I generated this world, I didn’t specify her name, just follow the original show. A let down, but nothing to cry about. It’s just...going to take some getting used to.
“Oh no! Too much time has passed!” Muffins yelped in a panic. “Sorry! Gotta run!”
I opened my mouth, but she’s already off, flying awkwardly onwards to her routine. Shame. I was going to offer her muffins. The pastries I was paid with would spoil if I don’t eat them fast enough. That reminded me: I had to do my own rounds as well.
Sighing for the umpteenth time that day, I smiled forlornly at the humble house that the inventive mailbox was associated to. “Until we meet properly, Knights of Time and Space.” I gave a respectful nod and walked off, shrugging my saddlebags back in place.
On the front door of the house, there pinned a sign. “The Doctor is Out,” it said.
For some odd reason, the town was going wild, running around all day. Was there some event? I even saw Derp—Muffins in the crowd stampeding all over the place. It seemed that she finished her job on time. Unfortunately, I wanted to bring home bits and did a few extra requests. It took a while, but I made it through the day with some actual Equestrian bits this time.
The squeaking door into Golden Oaks Library was like an angel’s song to my ears. It meant that the day was over with. It’s evening, the moon and stars were out, and I get to recklessly binge on both sleep and books. The internet monkey life still resonated in my blood. Besides the sugar.
Wearily, I entered the library muttering, “Eating cupcakes for lunch was such a bad ide—”
“I CAN’T DECIIIIIDE!”
Not two steps, and I froze. “Huh?”
“Are you here for the ticket, too?!” Twilight shouted at me hysterically. “Because I’ll have you know that I just. Can’t. Decide!”
For a moment, I was speechless. This had to be a joke. It had only been a day since the events of the Season 1 Premiere. And “The Ticket Master” had been happening this whole time?! But it’s right in my face, the rest of the Mane 6 looking on Twilight in deep concern as she made her heartfelt ten second speech. To me. And only me. My sudden appearance must’ve put all her focus onto me.
Tired, bewildered, having obtained a major sugar crash from all the sweets I hurriedly ate, and being yelled at, I realized that I had only one appropriate response available to me. “Twilight.”
“It’s important for all of you, and I just can’t stand disappointing any of you, but all these gifts and giving me favors isn’t going to make any difference!”
I approached her, brushing past Spike and feeling no chill whatsoever today. “Twilight.”
“Because you’re all my friends, and I want to make you all happy but I can’t! I just ca—!”
I slapped her with a wing, and all who witnessed it gasped.
“I sleep here.”
“...oh.” It calmed her down instantly, the lavender unicorn rubbing where cartoon logic had yet to fail me. “So, wait, you aren’t going to…?”
Keep up appearances, keep up appearances... Rubbing a wing against the scar under my shaggy mane, I repeated this like a mantra in my head. “Go ballistic over a second golden ticket like the rest of town? No.” Might explain all the noise though. “You had enough, it seems.”
Twilight smiled in relief and appreciation, to my surprise. “Thanks.” She then frowned worriedly as she turned back to her friends.
Seeing her so comfortable with my response after her display, and then dejected upon looking at them, the other girls glanced at each other, conflicted. I shared the same sentiment but for different reasons. Not only was I not supposed to console her in any shape or form, thus stealing the thunder from her friends, but I suddenly made them out to be in the wrong in comparison. Today’s lesson couldn’t proceed.
Damn it. I made it awkward.
Stepping up, I said tiredly, “Gather around. Let’s talk.”
At the very least, this was easy to fix.
“Everypony gets to go!” Pinkie Pie cheered, shaking me vigorously in her excitement. “Aren’t you excited, Tori?! I’m excited! It’s going to be the best party ever! There’s going to be fun, dances, and—!”
A book to her lips silenced her. “Save it for the day of the Gala.”
“Oh, okay.” She didn’t break stride though. "Dinner’s on us! I’m going to order cupcakes. You?”
“Not down for it. Going to sleep instead.” The thought of sugar sickened me to the core, still recovering from diabetic hell.
“Awww.”
“Well, ya heard him,” Applejack called by the exit, chuckling mirthfully. “But Twilight’s starvin’. Can’t leave her like that now can we?”
Nothing new happened beyond my unorthodox entrance. Word to word, exactly to my memory, the Mane 6 made up, Twilight made the letter, and everybody left for dinner possessing their own ticket. Well, speaking of tickets…
I stared at a golden ticket laid on a table in front of me. My ticket. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Twilight deemed me her friend as well after all. Although, I doubt we could get any closer than “just friends,” unlike the BFF thing she had with the rest.
The door closed, and the library felt empty. It’s just me and Spike now.
He sat next to me. “Not excited for the Grand Galloping Gala either?”
“No dinner with the others?” I shot back. The original show depicted him being gungho on being with the girls despite his misgivings of the party itself. Although, it wasn’t anything major, so I accepted it as it was.
“I thought about it, but us guys gotta stick together, yeah?” He elbowed me in emphasis.
Company, huh? I didn’t mind, and I let myself show a rare myself smile at his words. “Yeah,” I agreed. “Y’know, I think the girls got lucky today. Not everyone can get the same happy ending as they did.”
Spike raised a brow. “Lucky? You’re forgetting you helped settle things.”
“Eh, I’m sure they could’ve made up on their own. In friendship, this sort of thing is normal.”
“And you’re some kind of expert?”
“Oh, don’t I know it,” I said easily, as I listlessly found mild amusement in flicking the golden ticket around the table. “Likewise, today’s friendship lesson was incomplete.” Spike looked at me incredulously when the words left my mouth, but I continued. “It’s true that it’s a struggle to share blessing among your friends, but that’s only one side of the coin. Tell me, who are we missing?”
His eyes lit up in realization. “The others.”
I nodded, impressed. “That’s right. Their ambition or their friend: That’s their struggle. Progressing in this world is harsh. In many cases, choosing ambition will take advantage of others. And when you focus too much on friendship?” My abuse led my golden ticket to fall to the floor. “At the bottom you stay.”
“You...have a harsh way of seeing things,” Spike said uneasily.
As I picked the ticket back up, I shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, I’m a passionless guy who makes a living off of odd jobs and sleeps in a library like a hobo—guess what I chose all my life.”
“No way! You had friends beyond Pinkie and Twilight?”
“Yep. Used to. And it sucked in the end,” I said casually. The Brony life back then sure did had it's ups and downs. As he saw me at ease with my dull reality, his expression changed. For a moment, he went silent as he looked at me in wonderment. I smiled fairly at him. “But you could say that, right now, I’m giving this friendship thing another shot.”
“Well…” To my bewilderment, there was a sudden resolve in his eyes. “Then tell you what, how about I show you the sights around Canterlot when we get there. Me and you. We can call it a guys night!” he said excitedly.
“Won’t hesitate to help someone out, eh?” I chuckled. It’s so Spike’s character. “Sure.”
He pumped an arm at my consent. “Alright! Maybe along the way, you can fulfill your own dream there.” He paused. “Now that I think about it, just what is your dream?”
“Dead. Anyways, wanna turn in for the nigh…” I trailed off. “Spike, where’s my book bed?”
It was to my dismay to find out that Fluttershy cleared it away as a part of her cleaning the library to gain Twilight’s favor.
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not the book bed
I like how this is going. I see potential with Twilight finding a kindred spirit in Tutorial. Can't wait to see how this goes.
Added to my tracking list and up-voted.
I Forsee that in a year maybe two this will have at least 3k Likes and 20k views; Just trust me.
Well, this is an interesting story so far, I will be looking forward to see more of this story. hope the story will keep on changing the out come of the episode more and more as it goes along.
Loving this story!
It needs more attention! Many people I know would love this!
What's his Cutie Mark?
I had a feeling Luna was real from the start, I really like the dynamic between her and Tutorial, it makes me happy inside.
I'll be following this with eager anticipation of a Dr. Whooves and assistant cameo.
FYI the Ticketmaster episode was three not four.
8316750
Shoot! Thanks.
Ah, so you too have witnessed the glory of TrainWiz! You should really check out some of his non-joke mods, they really are quite nice.
Most versatile word in the English language! I'm not even kidding. It's a noun, it's a verb, it's an adjective! It's an expletive and an interjection! There's nothing fuck can't do for you. We all owe so much to it.
No, she's actually swearing at herself for being so flustered and tongue-tied. "Muffins" is a pony swear.
This is different than just about anything I've read yet, and the great language use is amazing.
8418596
Fucking hell, it’s so true!!!!!
8707470
Fuck me, you're both right.
8850450
well fuck, that's something I didn't know before.
If Equestria as Tori is experiencing it has been subtly shaped to respond to his desires, it's rather amusing to see some of the little things. Either he likes to be surprised, or he truly thinks Muffins is a better name than Derpy Hooves
! That, and apparently he now has free license to swear as much as he wants, because nopony will know what his words mean.
But yeah. At this point, he really does seem committed to keeping everything going just about as perfectly as it actually occurred in the show. I suspect Tori is going to have to reconcile two conflicting thoughts later on. This world is one of his own making (or rather the omnipotent god force above that somehow is able to conjure entire worlds for individual souls), so technically everything in it is artificial. Yet at the same time, Tori tries to keep everything on the path of canon. Which means that he at least sees the ponies and everyone else as living, breathing, thinking beings (which he well should), because otherwise he could let things change to make events more interesting, even if it results in an inevitable apocalypse. But if he's going to see everypony as real, then he really needs to stop being so dang detached.
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I think the world is shaped exactly for how he will be most happy and comfortable with, not exactly how he imagined it to be. It's a subconscious thing that follows the desiree's inner desires without being told.
He wanted to be someone big, but not exactly anyone everyone knows. The world was weaved to let him be the background hero.
Or postal system was Derpy