Derp

by PaulAsaran

Chapter V

The sun shone brightly between the clouds. Birds sang their little birdie songs, fillies and colts ran laughing through the park, and ponies of all sorts enjoyed picnics, caught up on the latest gossip, and generally filled the air with a sense of harmony and pleasure.

Beige sat on a bench at the edge of the scene, watching it all behind the bangs of her blonde mane. She wished she could join the other ponies in their joy and pleasure. Her heart just couldn’t drum up the enthusiasm for it. With a sigh, she turned her gaze to the… ‘thing’ in her hooves.

It was a hat. A blue cap, signifying her new role in Ponyville. Sitting beside her, the center of her right eye’s attention, lay the rest of the uniform, neatly folded and awaiting its first use. To think, most ponies considered landing a new job cause for celebration. She should be thrilled. Her first job since her firing three months ago.

“I’m a chemist,” she whispered, rubbing the hard edge of the cap. Her eyes burned, but at least her hooves no longer shook. Was that like acceptance? It couldn’t be, not when her thoughts were in this much turmoil. She knew what she’d been born to do, didn’t she? Her cutie mark came from chemistry. She met her husband while visiting Cincinneighti for a chemists’ conference. She’d been breaking new ground in the field of… of… clouds. Fertilizing clouds. The work had a more technical name, but nowadays she couldn’t even remember the chemical formula for formal… form… forumal…

Goddess, she was pathetic.

A mailmare. This was what she’d been reduced to. They’d hired her right on the spot, as if they’d been expecting her. She wasn’t even sure what had drawn her to apply. She wasn’t suited to that job, but they didn’t seem to care.

She’d had plans that would have helped all of Equestria and the lands beyond. Now her days would be relegated to travelling all over Ponyville delivering mail and looking like a drunkard while she did it. She clutched the hat in her shaking hooves and imagined ripping it in two. Her muscles tensed from the desire, the need to rebel against this… whatever it was!

But the part that stayed her hoof, which left an inconceivable combination of pleasure and agony, was not that this hat symbolized her new life. No, her confusion stemmed the most from a strange feeling that as much as she loathed this new direction in her life… a quiet part of her wanted it. A tiny pony in the back of her mind danced a giddy jig at the mere thought of this new career. If only she could catch that stupid little pony and crush her like a bug.

For months on end, she had endured that annoying little voice. Growing stronger every day, it told her to forget about chemistry, about her years of hard work and study and research. She should embrace her new life, take pleasure in the little things, and eat more muffins! The tiny pony bombarded her with good cheer, positive thoughts and pleas for simplicity. Every day, Beige awoke to the fear that she might not be herself anymore.

But she knew who she was. “I’m Beige.” Beige Beaker. Chemist. Scientist. Researcher. Not a mailmare. Not a useless cripple. Not ignorant or stupid or clumsy. She was her own mare. She made her own life.

Didn’t she?

“Hey, Derpy! What’cha doing?”

She ground her teeth and glared with one eye at the curious looking pony. A little ball of pudge, that one. She recognized him from Cheerilee’s school, where she occasionally helped out until her steadily deteriorating IQ finally got the better of her. What was his name? Right, Snips.

He studied her for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. “Your eyes are always a hoot!”

With a snarl, she stuffed her new uniform in her saddlebag and stormed off. She wobbled after a few steps, but had gotten much better at controlling herself. That didn’t stop the detestable colt from noticing, however. He burst into another laughing fit. It was all Beige could do not to turn around and scream in his fat little face!

The little pony wagged her hoof at Beige and lectured her for being mean. If she ground her teeth any more she’d be down to the gums.

She made her way home, ignoring the friendly calls of those she passed by. Why should she acknowledge them? They were all calling her by that foul nickname! She’d tried being polite, ordering, rudeness, she once even broke into a screaming rage, but it didn’t matter; to everypony today, she was ‘Derpy.’ Or sometimes Ditzy, which was only marginally better. And they were all so happy about it! Even Mayor Mare, who paraded around acting as if she’d done nothing wrong. It got to the point that it seemed her real name had been outright forgotten. Ponies looked at her funny whenever she insisted they call her Beige. Even the Mayor. All she could do was grumble and ignore them, knowing she and Chip could never afford to move someplace else, not now that she was out of the job.

Well, she had a job today. It wouldn’t be enough to let them get away from this living Tartarus, but at least it would take some of the burden off Chip. The poor stallion had put up with so much thanks to her condition. The thought of his hard work was one of the few things that could put a smile on her face. She sometimes wondered if he knew how much she appreciated his efforts. Probably not, as much as she tried to make it clear.

Of course, there was always Pipette. The foul ponies in this town had given her a nickname too, but at least ‘Dinky’ didn’t sound half as insulting. But what if they didn’t stop calling her that when she grew up?

Pipette was too young to care, and that filly could bring out a smile in any pony suffering from any mood. In fact, a good dose of the Little Piper might be exactly what Beige needed! Nothing could cheer her up about having a new job she absolutely did not want – no matter what some bubbly, frustrating pony in her mind insisted – than an hour or two with her daughter. This in mind, she increased her pace to a trot.

The majority of the walk went without anything unusual happening, for which Beige could only be grateful. Every now and then she would simply… ‘mess up,’ for lack of a better term. Her loss of balance would come at an extremely inopportune time, or she might say something quirky and not know why. It felt as though fate was forcibly making her into comic relief for everypony, though she didn’t subscribe to that idea. At least, not as much as Chip seemed to lately. She attributed her odd moments to her condition, which continued to baffle medical ponies and even some mages who offered to have a look.

Beige didn’t like the mages, though. They always came to one of two conclusions. The first, the most natural: they had no idea what caused her symptoms. Oh, they suspected magic had something to do with it. They were looking at not only the loss of balance and strange eyes, but also the fading of practiced knowledge and the acquisition of new skills, mostly related to baking; what else could cause such an unlikely combination of symptoms? So while those mages couldn’t find a distinct cause, they all agreed that magic was involved.

But then there were the mages, the ones with real skill and unique specialties and national renown. Four of those had come to Beige in the last few months, confident they could resolve her mysterious case – and add to their prestige, of course. Every one reacted the same way.

They recoiled as if from a living flame.

No explanations were given. No answers were offered. The best she got was from the third mage, the headmaster of a school in Manehattan, who hesitantly told her that nopony would ever be able to help her. Chip had thrown him out on his tail and assured her it was all hogwash. She agreed.

Only because she had to.

She shook her head; these thoughts did her no favors. Her life was… well, it was crummy, but she had a husband who stood by her and the best filly a mother could ask for. She had to count her blessings. At least her condition didn’t appear to have any lethal consequences, and she could fend for herself well enough. She couldn’t fly, but with practice she might be able to do it. Pipette would probably be too big for her to carry by that time…

No. Positive thoughts. Positive.

It wasn’t until she was almost at the gate to her house that she noticed the carriage. She paused, taking in the short, green thing settled on her street. It had familiar items stacked on top and in the compartment on the back. That was Chip’s suitcase. That lamp was his, and the table his uncle gave him…

For a time, she could only stare at the thing, mind at a loss to make sense of it all. It wasn’t until Chip walked out of the house with his other, smaller suitcase that her mind kicked back into gear. She approached him at a trot, noting his hard frown and the way his breathing came slow and heavy.

“Chip?” She met him at the gate, recoiling when he cast his eyes her way. His brow was a mess of furrows, and his lips were peeled back in a grimace. “What’s going on? Why are you packing all our stuff?” He strode past her, and she followed as he levitated his suitcase into the carriage. “Chip? Did something happen?”

He wouldn’t look at her, and when he spoke there was a hard edge to his voice. “I had hoped to be gone before you made it back. I’m leaving.”

Beige cocked her head. “I can see that, but for where?”

“Doesn’t matter. You don’t need to know.” He nodded to the driver and turned for the door of the carriage.

She stepped in front of him, focusing on him with one eye. “You’re not making any sense! Will you be gone long? Why are you leaving?”

He sighed and pushed her out of the way. He wasn’t rough, but he lacked the gentle touch she’d come to know and expect. “I’m not putting up with it anymore, alright? I’m gone.”

“Putting up with...?” She bowed her head, trying to wrap her skull around his words. Since when had he become so indirect? Why couldn’t he just tell her what he was doing? Beige would have to tell Pipette something, and besides that, she needed to… to…

She felt something akin to a thunderclap in her mind. She snatched Chip by his tail, jerked him back out of the carriage and spun him around. “Chip! What are you doing? I am your wife and you’re going to talk to me!”

It was as if a switch had been flicked in his skull; he pressed his face to hers and pushed. She backpedaled, heart leaping into her throat and wings spreading to hold her shaky balance. His eyes burned with something she’d never seen before in him, except maybe when he looked at Doctor Whooves. To see that ferocity aimed at herself put her at a loss for what to say or think.

“I don’t have to tell you a damn thing,” he snarled, stomping forward as she retreated, his head ever-pressed against hers. “I don’t care enough. I’m going away, I’m not telling you where to, and I am not coming back!”

Her balance twisted and she tripped, falling through their gate and onto her back. She shrank back as he loomed over her, his horn flashing and steam rising from his nostrils. “Ch-Chip, I don’t understand!”

He snorted and tossed his mane. “Can’t say I’m surprised, Derpy.”

Her breath caught in the knot that was her throat. She’d heard so many ponies call her that, but never Chip. Not only did he use it, he used it like a weapon, stabbing the syllables into her gut and strangling her with the mockery. A lone eye took in his vicious visage as the other jerked wildly about. “Y-you… I…”

Awareness was dawning, but she fought it back. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. There’d been no warning! He’d kissed her and snuggled and teased her before bed just last night! He was a loving husband. A loving father. “Ch-Chip…?” She reached out, silently begging him to take her trembling hoof.

“I didn’t marry a freak,” he grumbled, turning away from her. “Keep the dumb kid. This isn’t what I signed up for.”

And he was gone. Just like that. He entered the carriage, its door closed, and Crunchy Chip, her husband of three years, disappeared from her life.

For a time, she simply lay in the dirt, staring at where he’d stood with one wide, unblinking eye. Her mind swirled about with questions. What had just happened? Why would Chip be so mean? Was this even supposed to make sense?

Comprehension settled upon her gradually, trickling along to make a stream that filled her mind more and more with each passing second. Still, she failed to fully grasp it. At last, she climbed to her hooves. She looked about the yard, fully expecting Chip to be next to her. When he wasn’t, she turned and walked inside.

The house seemed so… bare. A large portion of the furniture had disappeared, along with some of the décor. The kitchen table remained, along with a number of essentials, but everything that had ever belonged to Chip? Gone. She turned a circle in the middle of the living room, her body wobbling from a lack of balance. She felt as though she were in a dream, numb and lost.

Beige stepped into her room. The sheets of the bed had been taken. The lamps, all the contents of the bookshelf, her favorite rug, even the pillows. All gone. She took in the bed and the two pony-shaped indentions. Looking at those left a cold feeling in her chest, so she turned away.

Slowly, mind still foggy, she entered Pipette’s room. This place, at least, had been untouched. Pipette lay sleeping in her crib, tiny legs wrapped around a plush ursa. Quietly, Beige approached and rested her chin on the edge of the crib to watch her baby’s soft, quiet breathing. How cute she appeared, with that one tuft of mane waving back and forth from her breath, and her lips fumbling around the doll’s ear. The sight brought a shaking smile to Beige’s lips.

Steadily, reality sank in, and with it came the tears. She kept it down to mere sniffling, even as her heart shattered and begged for her to explode.

But Beige didn’t lose herself. As heavy as she felt, as much as her soul ached, as desperate as she was for somepony to tell her this was a nightmare, she did not succumb to despair. Instead, a single question burned in the back of her mind, repeating itself over and over again: why?

“There were no signs,” she whispered, reaching out to stroke Pipette’s mane. “He never appeared unhappy. We were struggling, yeah, but he smiled so much, and… and he kept encouraging me when I was at my worst. He loved me. Loved you.” She pulled her hoof back and squeezed her eyes shut, letting her tears run down her face. “So why? Why abandon us when we can barely get by as it is? Why would he suddenly be so… cold?”

Her eyes popped open as an idea struck: it was sudden. But not just Chip’s behavior.

Everything.

Her balance going crazy. Her eyes messing up.

Her career, over.

Her education, gone.

Even her sudden discovery and newfound love of muffins had hit her with an unexplainable abruptness. She felt like a plaything to some powerful deity, all her hopes and interests disappearing at the dismissive wave of a hoof. The mages had all said there was a magic settled upon her, but she’d always cast it aside as nonsense. She dictated her own existence.

But what if that wasn’t true?

Her left eye gravitated towards the window. The window, through which the sunlight gave the room a gentle glow. She walked over to study the cloudy sky. The sun barely peeked out from an opening above, half-blinding her.

Everypony knew: Celestia and Luna were the most powerful ponies in the world. If they couldn’t prove Beige’s fears accurate, nopony could.

But how to get an audience?

Comments

[Viper Pit]

chip your gonna die and I am going to eat popcorn while you beg for your pathetic life

[Thought Prism]

Ok, I think I know what happened now.
Fate itself caused her malady to preserve harmony. If her research had continued to fruition, earth ponies would have been rendered inferior, leading to mass unrest and possibly war.

[Purple Pony]

I'm getting a bit of a 'Background Pony' vibe from this story now. Seriously.

[Bronycommander]

Bad move, Chip. Supporting your wife and then this? No matter where you hiding, we will find you and make you pay!