Never the Final Word (Vol. 2)

by FanOfMostEverything

Masterweaver's At the Arbor of Amity (Crystal Moose's "The Truth Is...")

Author's Note:

[Drama]

This is a continuation of Crystal Moose's The Truth Is... (1,039 words, [Comedy])

THE TRUTH IS... SPOILERS: Pinkie hesitantly confesses her true nature to her friends: She's an amorphous pile of fuzzy tentacles and sensory apparatuses. Neither Spike nor Applejack takes the revelation very well, the latter walking out on the group.

Applejack bucked another tree, watching as the branches shook themselves clean.

She'd been out here regularly for.... the last five days. Nopony had visited... well, alright, the Crusaders had come along but none of her friends had visited the farm. When she went out to sell apples, they hadn't dropped by. Not even Rainbow had done anything more then spare her a glance.

Yelling, she could take. But...

Applejack closed her eyes, trotting over to another tree and bucking quickly.

And then another.

And then anoth—

"You were kind of right, you know."

She froze.

"About me, not being natural." The high-pitched voice lacked its usual chipper ambiance. "I wasn't exactly born. I was made, AJ. Did you know that?"

The farmer took a breath. She opened her eyes, expecting... well, something unusual.. What she saw was a sad looking pink pony, or at least something that took the form of a sad looking pink pony.

She took another breath, and let it out slowly. "...What, exactly, do ya mean?"

"Shoggoths, my kind... we weren't ever meant to be intelligent. No, that's not right... self aware? We weren't people. We were tools, no... no emotions, no sort of instinct. The Great Old Ones made us to do things they couldn't be bothered to do." The pony shrugged. "Dig ditches, build buildings, serve drinks. That sort of thing. When I came into the world I knew how to manipulate my form and how to obey orders. And that was it."

Applejack looked away for a moment, hesitating. "Ah've never heard o' these Great Old Ones...."

"No, they... they died. Long ago. Every last one of them.... I'm still not sure why."

"Pinkie... why are ya telling me this?"

The pink pony-shaped thing kicked at the ground. "...when I said Shoggoths weren't made to be... people, I meant, um.... Well, we were intelligent. Very much so. But it was a limited, directed intelligence. Without the Great Old Ones, we just followed our final orders. A lot of us were supposed to keep... well, the Great Old Ones called them vermin, and we were the rat-trappers. My master, though, he thought the ponies around that time looked cute." She shook her head. "Or at least that's the closest translation to what you'd understand... anyway, he had ordered me to keep a small population of ponies happy and safe and that's what I did. For thousands of years, I just... tended to the ponies."

"They didn't freak out when..." Applejack waggled a hoof through the air.

"Oh, no, they absolutely did. I learned real quick that I had to be..." Pinkie gestured at herself, smiling a bit awkwardly. "Yeah. Of course, as time went on the ponies got smarter and I had to vary my routine to keep them happy. And as there were more and more of them, I got... stretched thin, I guess. So I decided to be a leader, and... Applejack, I grew up because of you all. I became me. Not just an automated bundle of nerves and muscle, but an actual... actual person." She shook her head. "I don't know if the other Shoggoths ever changed.... I had to kill a lot of them to keep you all alive... but ponies, Applejack, they're my family. My honest to goodness family."

The farmer blinked. "Ah.... Ah didn't realize. You... how old are ya?"

Pinkie smiled wanly. "I was there for Nightmare Moon. I was there for Discord. I was there for the Windigos.... I was chancellor Puddn'head. I know how that sounds, but.... In all that time, whenever I revealed myself it was meant to scare away interlopers or bad ponies. That day in the library? That was the first time I have ever, in my long life, tried to be myself with friends." She sighed and turned away. "I... I'm sorry. I just... I guess I should go—"

"Pinkie." Applejack reached out a hoof and, against the part of her that was still screaming, held her back. "Ah... Ah ain't going ta lie. Part of me is still scared ta death bout this. But... Ah'm willing ta try ta come ta terms with it. Ah should be tha one who apologizes." The farmer took a breath. "And... Ah am sorry. Ya didn't deserve that..."

"...Could you... maybe... come to the picnic this weekend?"

"...Ah'll be there. With your favorite apple pie, even."

Pinkie's neck rotated around so she could smile at her. "I'd like that."

Applejack paused. "Um.... okay. Yeah. Erm."

"....This is disturbing you, isn't it."

"Eeyup."

"Sorry!" Pinkie trotted her body back around to untwist her neck. "Sorry. Take it slow, I guess."

"That... that might be best."

Comments

[Themaskedferret]

This was a really solid take on such a goofy premise. Bravo.

[Lurks-no-More]

8470216
Indeed, and an excellent rationalization of how and why Pinkie is so stretchy!

[horizon]

This is a really poignant twist on the original. I love how it wraps entirely around the far side of the punchline and peels the humor back to show us the concept's beating heart.