Focus
10.
It was such a wonderful day for a walk when you really got down to it. It was bright with the odd cloud meandering through the sky to offer spots of shade. It was warm without being stifling hot. Even the birds were singing as they want to do along the trees that lined my path home. Too bad there were so many things dead set on making it one of the most miserable days I can recall. I was only feeling marginally better than I did this morning, and much of that could be attributed to the bark I had been chewing non-stop through the day, but I still was hungry, thirsty and tired. The run-in at the library was the last thing I really wanted to happen and left me tapped out emotionally, so beaten and weary, I retreated to my truck. To crawl into it and closed the door behind me to shut out the events was all I wanted to do.
This was my familiar fortress against everything strange and different in this world. Even myself now. Outside of this place was infectious in how it wormed instincts into my mind without my realizing that they were there. My language had changed entirely just by coming here. It had used insidious methods to plant a new name for me, and left the older one, no the real one, feeling distant. And yet, for all this place drew me in, it was pushing back just as fiercely. I was a stranger here and there were several ponies that have reminded me of that constantly since my arrival here. This was an exhausting dance to keep up and it has not been long. I needed something familiar to ground me. My hooves fumbled with the hoof-box - I mean glove box - and eventually open it up so I could get my wallet out. I flipped it open, and found that picture I shared with Luna, and really made myself look at it. My eyes roamed the little portrait, taking in every detail I could. It was still the same black and white photograph of myself pressed up close to my love. I remembered the day it was taken at the mall, just to kill a little time on a lazy Saturday afternoon. I even remember how small the booth was. Mashing together like that was the only way we could get both of us into the frame, not that we complained. We would never complain about being close.
The memory was real.
I looked wrong in it. The human there. It was me. It had to be me. But it looked wrong. No. I looked wrong. I knew logically that the picture had not changed since the day the booth printed it out, so how could it be so unsettling. So erroneous that I could not recognize it. It was like the figure in the picture was falling squarely into the place that was normally reserved for mannequins, dolls and other things that were close to people, but were not. The longer I looked, the more unnerving it became to me, before I clopped the wallet closed tightly between my hooves and began to shake from tip to tail as it evoked new emotions within me. I could not tell if it was fear or rage I was feeling in the pit of my stomach, but it was pitch black and all-consuming, leaving me numbed to the world. There was nowhere to direct the pain. I had no thoughts to give it focus. All I had was just impotent emotions that only could chew at my thoughts and soul.
“I really need you right now,” came my weak, trembling voice, knowing the one that it was intended for could not hear me.
Then, I gave up and flopped onto the seat as if I were a stringless puppet haphazardly tossed aside. At least I could sleep. It was the only thing that I could do right now that might have a tangible benefit to it. Maybe, after I wake again, I would be able to scrape enough will together to go see Merlot again, get some dinner and try to numb myself in a more direct, chemical sort of way. I closed my eyes to the world to shut it out, but there was one last niggling thought in the back of my mind.
Five.
Four.
Three.
There was a knock on my door. Of course there would be. It was ahead of schedule, but at least I was getting a handle on this place and how fleeting comforts were within it, despite how inviting it looked. With a lazy effort, for which I did not even sit up for, I pushed the door open, then barely opened one eye to look at the orange mare standing there. I recalled the picture from the library and she definitely featured in it. At least she did not look angry. If that was the best I was going to get, I will have to take it.
“You're early,” I stated dryly as I closed my eyes again. I had little interest in this pony, but less interest in fighting with her.
“Beggin' your pardon?” she returned with a note of confusion.
“Never mind. You followed me,” I continued with the same level of enthusiasm, “I asked you not to.”
“Yup,” she returned curtly to me, as if by saying so, absolved her of any wrong doing, “That I did.”
“If you're here to spit vitriol in my direction, feel free to leave it at the door step, and pretend I feel bad enough already. I will get to it at my nearest convenience or never. Whenever comes last.” Frankly, I was sick of dealing with these mares, so I reached for the door to pull it closed once more.
“Not here fer that,” she said, “Mah name is Applejack, an' you took somethin' from Big Mac last night. We need it back,” she explained. It was a small relief not to hear that in shrill yelling right now, but it was not surprising at all that a pony would come for the yoke.
“The yoke is twenty bits. That was the cost of the buy in.” I already had plans for the cash though I doubt my fight for the bits was anywhere near over.
“He says yer a sneak with them cards,” she went on to say as she narrowed her eyes, “Did ya cheat him?”
I took a deep breath and finally forced myself to sit up so I might face her to give her the answer to that question. “That is a useless question,” I replied, “No matter how I answer it, it really comes down to your opinion of me.”
Her head tilted slightly and she blinked. “How so? Did ya, or didn't ya? It's pretty simple from where I am.”
I shook my head slightly to her and explained, “You think I am a cheat already, so if I say that I am honest, you can dismiss it by saying that I am a liar. So rather than give you ammunition to use against me, I am simply refusing to play a game I cannot win.”
She was taken aback by this, then stepped closer so I could not swing the door closed anymore. “Why do ya say I think yer a liar? I was just givin' ya an shot at answerin' 'onestly.”
I scoffed into my hoof. “You would never ask an honest pony if he was a liar, now would you?”
“Now that ain't fair to say,” she said, “I give everypony 'round 'ere a chance ta prove themselves. And well, I can spot a liar like a hawk. It comes part and parcel with being the Element of 'Onesty and ya ain't a liar far as I figure. Maybe none too pleasant, but I reckon the last few days have not been kind to you.”
This caught my attention. “Go on.”
“Yer soundin' like the world got up and gave you a whoopin'. And it only got worse between here and the library. It's likely a bigger one than ya deserved and we have been so wrapped up on what happened to Twi' and all of us, that we fergot that there was a whole other pony that could be hurtin',” she continued while she looked down to hide her eyes behind the brim of her hat, and rubbed one hoof along her other foreleg.
I was silently watching the confession play out before me and left me wordless. My thoughts on this were jumbled at best and muddled by the dark mood I was already in when she came to my door, so I really did not know what to say. Applejack just went on to fill the uncomfortable silence.
“And at the library, well, I guess I saw a bit of it,” she said, “An' I wanted to make things right. Meet you all proper and not with everypony gettin' all excited.” She offered out a hoof to me, and waited expectantly for me to take it in kind. She even gave me a slight, but inviting smile. To be honest, it was a much better offer than I ever expected from Applejack.
Our hooves touched and gave a brief shake. It was more pleasant than I expected, if awkward. “So, where does that leave us then?” I finally asked after our hooves parted.
“Well, that depends about mah brother's yoke,” she replied with a growing ease.
“You aren't going to get it for free, you know,” I pointed out, “I really don't need it, but it was worth twenty bits on the table. If you allow me to jump back a little in the conversation, I am not a cheat, but I do expect fair trades.”
“Well, I suspected as much, but I'll give you twenty bits on only one condition,” she said, and I gave a little nod and gestured for her to continue,”I wanna know how ya beat Big Mac. He's the only pony around that I have trouble readin'. I think it's 'cause he knows me too well. Or the whole element thing don't work on him 'cause we're family or something.”
I laughed briefly because it was such a simple request. To have the matter resolved so easily was worth much more than an advantage at a game I might not get another chance to play. “Watch the ears. You'll figure it out,” I pointed out to her and she looked like she was ready for more, but I really did not have more to tell.
“That's it?” she asked with a disbelieving expression. It was so simple and yet it must of elluded her.
“Yup. That's the whole of it.”
She laughed, “That brother o' mine is as stubborn as any other Apple, but he were makin' you out to be some sort of mind-readin' snake-in-the-grass. Instead, he jus' got outplayed and didn't wanna admit it!”
“Sorry to disappoint, but I am nothing but a pony that has played one too many rounds of cards while on the road.” Talking to her was quickly getting easier and the apprehension I felt when she first arrived was going away. I was not feeling much better but at least she was not adding to it all. “May I ask you something?”
“Sure thing, you can. And I'll even answer 'onestly as I can.”
“Are the rest of your friends angry at me? I have to go to town occasionally, and I don't want every trip in being an effort to avoid the lot of you.” I leaned a little forward as if another pony might overhear it.
She tilted her head a bit again, and sat down on her haunches as she pondered that. She even tapped her hoof along her chin and hummed and just when I thought she was leading me on, she started answering me. “To be totally 'onest, I don't reckon they're angry at you, Scriber. I think they're angry that Twi's in hospital. Ya just happen to be the pony holding the bag 'cause of what happened, ya know? Like, I bet Fluttershy just wants to know that yer being 'onest and yer not some horrible machine-pony thing like yer wagon here, and Rainbow has always been a little quick to her guns. Rarity is a bit of a drama-queen too, but I bet with a bit o' time, she'll calm down and give ya the benefit of the doubt.”
It was a relief but there was two more ponies I had to ask about. “What about Cuffs and Pinkemena? Those two do not seem to think much about my character.”
“I don't really know Cuffs all that well, but I do know he's a hard workin' pony and there's a big lack of work 'round here for a lawpony. Yer the first pony in a while he can do the whole, “law and order” bit with. As fer Pinkie, I donno really. Ya got to her somethin' fierce but I ain't got a clue what it means. She's hard enough to figure out when she's normal,” she said as she stood up.
If I had felt better, I might of started working out a plan on how to go about and influencing the opinions of the other ponies, but right now, I was still spent physically and emotionally. “Thank you. That helps a lot,” was all I could really think to say.
“Yer welcome. An' welcome to Ponyville. Hope the rest of your stay 'round here goes better than it started fer ya,” she returned with a tip of her hat. “Now, yer looking a mite rough so get some shut-eye and I'll be by tomorrow with the bits.” She then spat on her hoof and held it out to shake once more. I wrinkled my nose at the thought and she just chuckled at me. In the end, we shook hooves once more to seal the deal. Then, she left along the same little path I took for the last few days.
I welcomed the quiet that came with the solitude, but this time I did not close the door right away as I settled in to sleep away the afternoon. The air was fresher outside anyways.
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Writing accents is tough. If you see a way to improve it, it would be much appreciated.
Thank you guys for your time.
I enjoy how you write your accents.
And I loved this chapter, because after all of the hate he has succumbed to. Someone finally decided to be nice for a change.
Other than Big Mac, Merlot, Lyra, and Bon Bon.
But other than that I love this Fic, and I hope to see more chapters like this sooner or later.
This Fic is truly, "AWESOME!"
967893 it looks fine with me, and thank you for the chapter.
There is no right or wrong way to write accents imo. There are ways that I personally prefer. But again that's just my opinion. I prefer writing with a light accent to show that one is there, but it allows for the reader to decide just how far it goes when they hear it as they read. Writing with a heavy accent forces the reader to read in a heavier accent, which is a bit annoying, again imo.
Bravo. Good update.
967893 Applejack's accent was just fine... but do Canadians really say 'in hospital'? I thought that was strictly a British thing. Then again I've heard several other British vocabulary things from Canadians. In 'merica it's 'in the hospital.'
A good chapter all around, hopefully he gets his shut-eye this time.
Also, Element of 'Onesty <- lol
Finally the guy catches a break. Do you realize how long I've been waiting for one of the six to let him catch a break? Granted, I just started reading this recently, but when I caught up, it frustrated me to no end. I'm definitely looking forward to more.
967893
I agree with esobelac, light accents are the way to go, especially since you have the benifit of a character who has an already well-established voice that your audience will use in their own head. Lots of folks around here seem to lay it on pretty thick with AJ, and it often becomes simply unreadable. Ideally, you want to write the accent in where it naturally would be emphaised. To that end, a character's speech pattern is a much better way to establish accent; Applejack doesn't just drop letters here and there, she speaks in a way that is quite distinct from everyone else, particularly with her vocabulary. Rarity is another good example, you want to use larger words and more succinct phrasing there, but too often people just toss "darling!" at the end of a sentence and it beomes grating.
e.g. "Just what do you think you're doin'?!" works loads better than, "'Jus whut do ya think 'yer doin'!?"
Fucking finally. FINALLY. A pony who spoke to him and it didn't end, or start, with them being completely pissed off and not listening to a word he's saying.
Sorry Fluttershy, but Applejack is now my favorite character. For this particular story. Still my favorite 99% of the time though.
that was a very enjoyable chapter
967893
968212
Ditto.
Woohoo UPDATE...reads,,,
finished reading...
YAY GOOD CHAPTER.
KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK
Such an awesome chapter. You're really good at capturing the moment with your words. Keep up the amazing work!
This story is so awesome
The whole concept of his entrance into Equestria having such great consequences couldn't have really set the story up any better.
And another thing, it's really a breath of fresh air to have a (completely!) normal person who has no idea about MLP implemented in these stories. I'm tired of seeing video game characters, celebrities, and bronies diddle their way around Ponyville (Seriously, who even wants to read about Gordon Freeman NOT communicating with ponies?!).
Kudos on your superior grammar and spelling overall, especially with Applejack's dialogue. When most people write, it always feels like they're stumbling over words trying to make it sound really hick-ish (or maybe I was just too absorbed in this story to notice, that might have been it).
Definitely watching, keep pumping out chapters
Damn man, I'm glad this fic has gotten as popular as it is; it's really good.
969563
To be honest, I never expected this sort of reaction to it. I expected to be downvoted and relagated to the gutters of pony-related literature. Either way though, I am going to keep writing this, and I hope you guys keep on liking it.
This is a pretty awesome bit of literature.
So get back to writing it!
982390
*swoops in and attacks the typo without mercy*
967893 Ye Gods, you are not joking. Writing the Apple family's accents is a tough job- especially since each one of them speaks a little differently from the rest.
Personally, I just save really accentuating the accent (ha!
) for words that would really stand out as the character tried to pronounce them, or where the "twang" is more noticable that most.
969582 I enjoy HiE stories, particularly the well-written ones. And I think my Featured box picks up on that from time to time.
Keep up the good work!
FYI: A cockney accent, not a West Virginia one, drops letters at the beginning of words, I thought...
(West Virginia is the accent AJ has been stated by Word of Creator to have, you see.)
Yay, mental alterations!
He's getting brainwashed into being a pony.
*bleh*
Hope to see this ends not in the vein of most stories.
:)
=]
ts4.mm.bing.net/th?&id=HN.608050872544399021&w=300&h=300&c=0&pid=1.9&rs=0&p=0
WUT.
4302079 Wut?
Applejack here seem far more mature than the rest... I like her.
This is why Applejack is my boo!
4854728
It's surprising how many authors write Applejack being almost as hot-headed as Rainbow, while in canon (at least as the seasons go on) she seems like as mature as shown here. She's not perfect, of course, but I like to think that beyond what the plot requires of her, she's the most adult and wise of the whole lot.