Holiday Special: Fitzgeraldian Grandeur, Fitzgeraldian Tragedy
The train pulls out of the station, five hooves of varying colour and a set of dragon claws waving at us as it goes. Until just a few hours ago, Twilight and I had planned to be on that train.
We exit the train station and check the address given on the letter. '21 Loperfield Avenue.' Twilight points us in the right direction, and we begin walking, leaving neat tracks in the inch of snow that covers the sidewalks.
I glance down at the piece of paper in my shirt pocket while we walk. In its folds I can make out the names “Fola & Haytham Buchanan”, sitting atop their address. The letter arrived just in time to stop Twilight and I from leaving on the train with the others. Their names were familiar, but it wasn’t until I read the letter that I realized I had met them a few weeks ago, when I visited the wreck of Trixie’s wagon.
The letter is a short, hasty scrawl. There are a lot of details missing I would like very much to know, but I gather that it was written in an extreme hurry. It was only delivered late this morning, around an hour before we planned to leave. It's dated for yesterday, so I'm supposing it was only written and put in for the post in time for the end of the day.
It doesn't say much. A quick introduction refers to us having met before the trial of Trixie Lulamoon, and the names of Haytham and Fola Buchanan both sound familiar - though I can't put a face to either - but the son they refer to, Leopold, doesn't ring any sort of bell. Aside from that, the letter only says that their son has developed a piano cutie mark, and begs me to pay a visit at my next convenience. With such an intriguing, short letter, how could I not?
As we walk up the street, I can’t help but reflect bitterly that the snow would be more beautiful if I didn’t know that it had been arranged by the weather pegasai. It looks so natural, but the knowledge that it's anything but a natural just ruins the magic of having that perfect light snowfall.
"So..." I turn my head to Twilight. "Are we going to get more tickets for tomorrow?"
"No, we'll take a chariot early tomorrow morning. I want to be there in time for the Hearth's Warming Eve festival."
I grin. "Oh, are you pulling the chariot? Can't we just cut out the excess and have you carry me?"
Twilight gives me a rueful glance and flexes her wings. "Not if you've got a problem with crashing."
"Flying can't be that hard. Aim for the big blue thing and start flapping, right? And if you mess up, aim for one of the other big blue things or a snow bank."
"Keys..." Twilight mumbles, a hint of pleading in her voice. She doesn't like it when I tease her.
My fun over, the grin fades from my face. As I think forward to the interesting but serious meeting ahead of us, I'm struck by a sudden and even more somber thought.
“Have you heard anything from Maneworthy?” I ask.
“No,” she replies. “I don’t think we’ll see him for a while. This morning I asked the doctor covering his duties with Princess Celestia, and she says that he’s still at the hospital... and that he isn’t doing very well.”
“Oh,” I respond lamely. “Well, we've got the time for it I think we should stop by before we leave.”
“We can do that.” Twilight nods. “We should do that.”
"After this is done, then." I return the nod, then look around. The houses on this road look shabbier than most other places I've seen in Canterlot. "How much further is it?"
"We're here," Twilight announces, coming to a stop. "21 Loperfield avenue."
"We are?" I spare a quick glance at the number on the letter, then the number on the letter box. "I, uh... I don't know what I expected. I thought it'd be more Canterlot-y"
The house is small; tall and narrow, like the cramped housing I've always associated with London. Its facade is aged and poorly maintained, not exuding the cleanliness and superiority that most Canterlot architecture holds. It's more like a flat than a house, and from the outside it doesn't look all that appealing to live in, like a good half of the homes on this street.
"It's very low key as far as houses go. Not everypony in Canterlot is able to live in a nice house," Twilight says. Unlike me, she takes the precaution of lowering her voice. "Not everypony is able to afford a nice house," she adds, quieter still.
"No, of course not," I reply in my own low voice, and as I do so I am struck by two things. The first is that I have become so over-accustomed to the quality and cleanliness of all things associated with the Canterlot elite, that I'm taken aback just when seeing a house that's comparable in shabbiness to the one I lived in on Earth. The second is that, in seeing the names "Fola and Haytham Buchanan" I had immediately conjured a mental image of Fitzgeraldian grandeur. "I was just surprised. For people, the surname is linked with being obscenely rich."
We approach the door and use the knocker in its center. There's the sound of activity and movement from within the house, then the door opens a crack. A teal unicorn in the armor of a city guard peers out at us, and then understanding dawns on his face.
"Oh, Mr Lewis - and your highness!" He pulls the door all the way open, almost falling over himself. "I'm sorry, we didn't expect you so immediately, and your highness." He bows to Twilight, then extends his foreleg to me.
"You must be Mr Buchanan, then?" Twilight says with some trepidation as I grab his leg awkwardly around the ankle joint and shake,
"Yes - your highness - I'm Haytham." The unicorn bows to Twilight again as he replies, still shaking his hoof up and down the whole while. Perhaps I should have come alone.
"Oh, please, please, come in." Haytham backs away from the door to allow us entry, guiding us down a short entry passage into a sitting room. "We honestly weren't sure if we'd even receive a reply, never mind a visit - and so soon too..." He trails off turning back to look between Twilight and I with an expression of total bewilderment. After a moment, he begins moving again. "Fola? We have visitors. Bring Leopold."
The room is just as small and worn as the exterior would suggest There's two couches and one armchair, all of which are old and frayed. There are two other exits to the room, one showing a hallway, and the other a dirty looking kitchen. Twilight and I seat ourselves on one of the couches, while Haytham stays standing.
"I'm sorry," the stallion apologizes. "I would take a seat, but..." He shifts slightly, his armor plates clanking against eachother as he does. "I was just about to leave for my shift."
"That's no problem," I answer for both of us while Twilight produces a small scroll of paper, writes out an explanation for Haytham's lateness, then rolls it up and seals it with her royal stamp.
"For your commander." She passes the scroll to Haytham, who chatters out multiple thanks for the gift. As he does, a unicorn mare with a cream coat and blue hair appears in the doorway to the kitchen, in the process of removing a nurse's cap from her head.
We sit through another set of flustered introductions as Fola Buchanan realizes that one of the princesses is visiting, the awkwardness of which is only broken when the foal we're here to discuss enters, and a few things fall into place for me. The name he gave me when we first met takes a moment to come to me, but I remember it after a few seconds.
Leopold 'Bucky' Buchanan is a tan colt. I remember him as young thing playing with some friends around the wreck of Trixie's wagon on the day I recorded my statement for the investigation. I also remember that he came up to me and spouted every child-hero-worship cliche in the book about how he wanted to be as good a pianist as me. I also remember seeking out his parents to warn them that he didn't have much chance of being a good pianist.
"Well, now this is interesting." I lean forward, a broad smile on my face. "Bucky, yeah?"
"Y-yeah, hi." He glances at his parents uncertainly. The foal seems much less energetic than when I met him.
"Things make a bit more sense now." I look back to Fola and Haytham as Bucky sits in the armchair. "But there must be a story here."
"Yes." Fola nods. "After you spoke to us, Haytham and I wanted to discourage Leopold from trying the piano, because we didn't want him to be disappointed."
I glance at Bucky, but he doesn't show any reaction.
"But little Bucky was very persistent," Fola continues. "Yesterday we took him to a friend's house to use their piano... and..."
We all turn to Bucky, who - after a nod of encouragement from his father - turned in his seat to present his cutie mark, a base clef wrapped in a treble clef, with a semitone note on either side.
"Very interesting..." My smile broadens. "What did you play, and how?"
"A short tune. It sounded very pretty." Fola smiles at her son, who squirms bashfully. "He... he used his magic, and it covered some of the keys."
"I see." I lean back into the couch. Magic covering some of the keys doesn't sound particularly special, unless he's somehow doing it differently to how I've seen unicorns try to play piano. "That sounds promising, but there's a small issue."
Neither Fola nor Haytham reply, but their faces become anxious.
"Well, Mr and Mrs Buchanan," I begin slowly, "I'm departing for Ponyville early tomorrow morning, where I plan to spend the holiday season and period after the new year at the very least - and possibly much more than that."
The two ponies share an uneasy glance as I talk.
"Now, I am still very interested in tutoring Bucky, yes, but I can't tell you when I'll next be in Canterlot for any long while. Perhaps - in the meantime - it might be best to find another teacher."
"N-no!" Haytham suddenly blurted out, balking at the idea. He glanced at Fola a second time. "I have cousins in Ponyville. Our family is close; we visit eachother every year. We could send Leopold to board with them for as long as you're in Ponyville."
"Woah," I say, although not loud enough to derail the proposition.
"It's very doable," Fola agrees. "Well worth it if it means Bucky can be tutored by, well, by you. And if he stays here, we wouldn't be able to afford a quality tutor for him anyway." I see Haytham's face fall at the mention of money.
"Wait," Twilight says, bringing instant silence to the room. An Equestrian wonder I may be, but nothing commands attention like the disapproval of a princess. "Mr and Mrs Buchanan, these are some serious decisions you're making on the spot; sending your son away for months on end? That's a big change for a young colt. I think you should at least check that it's what he wants before you start making plans."
All eyes in the room turned to Bucky, who looked intimidated by the moment.
"Bucky," Twilight said, a gentle smile on her face of Celestian benevolence. "What do you want to do?"
The colt's eyes flickered between the two sides of the discussion, the exuberance and energy he had displayed previously muted by the weight of the moment.
"I want to learn to play," he says quietly.
"Even if that means leaving home for a long while? Are you okay with that?"
"Yes." He nods. "Yes, if I can learn."
We're quiet for a moment, then I clas my hands together. "Well, looks like it's settled. I suppose that only leaves the matter of... fees."
Both of the Buchanans' faces are struck by the same look of dread that crossed Haytham's face when his wife mentioned money before. I look sidelong at Twilight, but she remains tactfully neutral. As I turn my eyes back to the Buchanans, I run my eyes over the decor of the room. The frayed fabric of the furniture and carpet, the scuffed walls, the overall drabness of their house.
A few thoughts come to mind as I think it over; talking with Celestia after the trial about my dependence, we had agreed on a royal stipend until I was able to start earning my own money. But just looking around, I can feel how wrong it would be to take the Buchanans' money. It's obvious that they're living just above a state of poverty here.
"...Ponyville has a public school for foals of Bucky's age, and there may be some minor administrative and stationary costs involved with enrollment. It's not as if I'd know, but I'm assuming you'll also need to provide at least a small amount of upkeep and board to your relatives. A train ticket for a foal isn't too expensive, though - although it's a different matter if either of you want to accompany him. If you're able to cover all that, there shouldn't be any problem."
The Buchanans stare as I stand to shake each of the hooves, and Twilight gives me a long look, her expression inscrutable.
***
Dusk fell while we were talking with the Buchanans. There's still a few rays of sunlight peeking over the Canterlot roofs, but nothing you could see by. The street lamps are on, and the individual falling snowflakes that catch and refract the lamplight are undeniably beautiful, even knowing that the weather is completely contrived.
Both of us feeling the cold, Twilight and I don't wait to admire the weather. We keep moving toward the castle, knowing that the Canterlot Clinic is only one street over a few blocks further along.
After walking in silence for a while, I can't stop myself from saying "Don't tell Celestia."
"I won't," Twilight replies. "It was a good thing to do."
"But not a smart thing," I say. My living funds are coming directly from the princesses - no noticeable cost for them, I'm sure - and Celestia and I already agreed that I should look at becoming independent as soon as I can. "I just don't think my first step toward funding my own life should be extorting a family in poverty."
"You're right," she says, and I understand that it's her answer to both parts of my response.
We walk for a while more, then turn a corner, revealing the large hulking shadow of the Canterlot Clinic, set against the slightly lighter backdrop of the night sky. There are some lights in the windows, but the large swathes of darkness show that it's clearly running on the night shift now. The biggest source of light is at street-level, from the entrance. The sterile white light seeping from the hospital's glass front would usually be a jarring contrast to the darkness of the street, but with the way the light is reflected and scattered by the snow on the ground and in the air, I'm instead struck by the idea that the hospital is a dragon, and the light is the fire it breathes, washing against the ground and fanning all around.
“Do you feel nervous?” Twilight asks when we come to a stop just short of the entrance.
“Yeah. I mean, this is the one week of the year where everything is meant to be as happy as possible... and instead... he's lost- I mean, what the hell do you say to help someone through that?”
Twilight reaches out with one wing and brushes it against the back of my hand. “I would think just getting a visit from a friend would make a difference.” She smiles, and I smile back. Twilight gets better at using her wings every day. Flying still isn’t working out, though. She's got a thing for "playing the girlfriend", but a lot of what she says is built on cliches.
I remember when I talked to Cadance, just after I moved into the castle. Shining Armor says I helped a lot there, but this isn't the same. You can convince someone that one bad pony doesn't represent the whole, but you can't just convince someone that their loved ones dying is anything less traumatizing than the tragedy they know it to be.
Letting out a long breath, I bow my head in acquiescence. I'm honestly not all that sure if Maneworthy and I are friends. I'd like to think that in a few months' time I could say such a thing, but at this point I would say that we're friends the same way two amiable workers in an office environment are friends; that if we didn't have a reason to, we would barely see eachother at all. Not exactly a cheerful observation, and neither is it the sort of thing I'd confide to an element of harmony.
We step into the light spilling from the hospital entry and up to the doors. I hold one open for Twilight, and then follow her up to the front desk. The single mare working the night shift looks up at us as we enter.
"You highness, welcome." She bows her head to Twilight, then gives me a professional smile. "Mr Lewis, it's nice to see you. I hope nothing's the matter?"
"I'm fine, thanks, Ms Manila. We're visiting to see Arthur and Light Wing Maneworthy. Sorry it's so late."
"For the two of you, I'm sure it will be fine." To her extreme credit, the mare keeps her composure to the utmost. However, she does blink out of time with her rhythm, and the expression in her eyes changes to something much less than cheerful. "The maternity ward is down this hall." She gestures with one hoof to the leftmost hall branching from the lobby. "I would suggest that you do not disturb Mrs Maneworthy, but you should find Doctor Maneworthy outside the second floor nursery."
Twilight and I glance at eachother.
"I see... does he spend much time there?"
"Yes." Manila gives another irregular blink, but her composure still doesn't slip.
"Right, thanks." I nod to the mare, then Twilight and I walk toward the hallway she indicated. It's a wing of the hospital I never visited while I was staying here; I rarely moved beyond my ward, I was so frail at the time.
"The last time I saw her, Maneworthy flipped out because she called me the Piano Man," I murmur to Twilight. "I think she took it to heart."
Aside from the blazing light of the lobby, the rest of the hospital is dark. The halls are lined with small floor-lights to show the way through, and the signs on the walls that indicate what ward is in which direction have weak back-lighting.behind them. The only places with the lights still on are the nurse stations by the stairwell on each floor. The Clinic is not the best working environment for those scared of the dark.
As Manila suggested, we can see the shape of a pony standing halfway down the left hall on the second story. He's beyond the reach of the light from the nurse station, and barely visible except for a silhouette that blocks the view of the floor lighting.
I motion for Twilight to wait, and detour to a coffee machine standing across from the nurse station. I feed in a few bits and produce two coffees, only being stopped from making a third by Twilight shaking her head. Then, both coffees in hand, we walk down the hallway, taking care to keep our hoof and footfalls as light as possible.
Maneworthy doesn't turn to look at us when we approach, his gaze fixed on one of the several dozen cribs that are barely visible through the window into the nursery.
After a long pause, it's Twilight who takes the initiative. "Arthur, I'm very sorry. How are you feeling?"
The stallion doesn't take his eyes away from the nursery or answer her question. Instead, he offers a blunt greeting of his own.
"Keys, Twilight, I thought you were leaving today."
"Something came up about a colt getting a piano cutie mark," I reply "We're taking a chariot tomorrow morning, instead."
"I see." Maneworthy's eyes don't move. I try to follow his gaze and pick out the foal he's watching over, but cannot.
Twilight gives me a look of extreme unease, and I give a small nod. She gives Maneworthy what I think is a very heartfelt condolence, and walks back to the nurse station.
"Which one is yours?" I finally ask him, after the next stretch of silence has reached a full minute.
"Fourth from the left, two from the back," he replies quickly. "He's a creamy beige colour, but that should darken as he gets older. We haven't decided on the name yet."
I can't see the colour of any of the foals in the dark room, but I nod. "And how is Light Wing?"
"Recovering. Healthy. I'm happy for that," Maneworthy says in a matter-of-fact voice, not a hint of emotion to support his claim. "She's grateful that he is healthy."
"And... is that where you two differ?" I keep my voice gentle. It's a clumsy approach, but the opportunity to broach the subject isn't something I'm going to pass by."
"Perhaps I mispoke." His voice becomes softer. He doesn't clarify, but I understand. Light Wing is happy that it wasn't a double stillbirth. Maneworthy's hurting too badly over the loss of one to feel cheered at the survival of the other.
I try to abate the awkward silence by sipping at my coffee. Maneworthy blinks for only the fifth time since I approached him, his eyes still fixed on the cot.
"I delivered a few stillbirths when I worked here, before being commissioned for the princesses," Maneworthy said suddenly. He spoke with great effort, as if it took some sort of physical exertion. "We had a lot of training on how to deal with grief. And the parents were always a wreck. I've delivered cancer diagnoses with better reactions than even the most stable parents that suffered a still birth. And even with that coaching, and with that experience, you're still not ready when it happens to you. No matter what, you can never be ready for it."
I slowly work my hands around the cardboard cup, trying to savour its heat, but not wanting to distract Maneworthy. His voice is strained and inconsistent, which has me imagining the lump of tension in his throat that always comes with misery on such a total scale; that hardness in the throat that makes every word come out uneven in comparison to the last, and that forces you to take shorter, more ragged breaths.
"We knew something was wrong. Before and after the delivery of the first foal, Light Wing said she could feel one of them moving too much. The heartrate on the fetal monitor was far too weak for the second delivery. He came out first, nice and healthy. It was a rush to get to the sister, and..." Maneworthy pauses, and swallows. There are small teardrops beading in the corners of his eyes and running into the fur. "...and the umbilical cords were wrapped around her neck. Face was blue, and the heart rate was nearly gone. It... it just didn't work. We cut the cords as quickly as we could but it just didn't work. Sweet Celestia."
After a silence that lasts an uncomfortable amount of time, I again look into the nursery and comment to Maneworthy "He's a precious little thing." There's that sad poignancy to accompany the death of a twin. I've never interacted much with the subtle reverence that's fixed upon twins, but I can't deny the impression as if one half of a whole is dead.
"He is," Maneworthy agrees with a slight hiccup of anguish. Then he lets out a small breath, followed by another, and another. Each round of breathing in and out becomes faster and louder than that which preceded it, as Maneworthy scrunches his eyes closed and bows his head. I observe this odd form of crying as Maneworthy continues to take his loud, whooping breaths, each exhale its own short wail. The sound doesn't seem to reach the interior of the nursery, as none of the foals stir in their cribs.
Maneworthy's crying stops just as quickly as it started. As he composes himself, I glance back down the hallway toward the nurse station, where I can see Twilight looking back at us, as well as one of the nurses peeking her head around the corner. When I turn to Maneworthy again, I find that instead of resuming the vigil over his son, he's looking at me.
There's yet another stretch of quiet between us before Maneworthy returns to watching over the nursery, during which I wonder if he's holding me responsible for his outburst, and then wonder if I hold myself responsible.
"Thanks for coming," he says quietly, with all the sombre composure of when I first arrived. "But I want to be alone now."
I nod once, certain that he can see the motion in the corner of his vision. "Give my best to Light Wing. Happy Hearth's Warming, Arthur," I mumble, knowing the gesture to be just as hollow as it feels.
"Happy Hearth's Warming, Jacob," he replies in turn, and I walk back to the nurse station.
***
We exit onto the snowy sidewalk, and I lean against one of the slanted steel columns spaced along one of the front of the hospital. I pass the remaining half of my coffee to Twilight, to help her stay warm, and then close my eyes against snow carried on gusts of wind.
I allow my thoughts to fall into a disarray of numbed emotion in the face of the winter air, staying in such a way for far longer than is necessary or polite, then collect myself and open my eyes. I find Twilight's wingtip wrapped gently around my fingers - holding limbs, as I've titled it.
Almost reflexively, I allow my own side of the connection to slip, and our respective appendages return to our sides. After the waning of my initial surprise at finding us so scandalously positioned in full view of the hospital, I regret ending it. Twilight glances at me, but no disappointment shows on her face.
"Losing your foal two days before Hearth's Warming..." I finally say aloud. "...He's a smoking wreck. Poor guy."
"I hope he'll be okay," Twilight says. "I mean, what happened just before you came back was... moving."
I don't comment on Maneworthy's crying. I cried more than that when I first came here - and quite frequently, much louder and much stranger than what he did. Leave the men to their crying when it happens. With some - such as Maneworthy, I think - it's rarer than a blue moon and a shooting star on the same night.
"Maneworthy said that Light Wing is actually in a much better place than him. She's happier that the son survived. I hope she can help him."
"I hope you're right... and that she doesn't go downhill too," Twilight replies, and I pause to wonder how severely Light Wing might be stricken with post-natal depression when half of the delivery was stillborn.
"It's getting late," Twilight says, and a glance at my watch tells me that it's nearing nine. "...and I'd like to leave early tomorrow, if we can. Do you want to head back?"
"Yeah." I nod, pushing away from the column and accepting back the empty coffee cup from Twilight. She begins to move, but I hesitate, absorbing the visual of the two of us, alone on a midwinter night, framed from the back by a sterile white light that carries all the feelings of the winter season without the holiday warmth that should come with it
"And Merry Christmas," I say to the mare. She pauses to look at me, confused, but I only smile, shrug, and fall into step with her as we walk back to the castle. "It's a human thing."
We trudge through the snow that has collected on the sidewalks, now shrouded in that darkness of the night. I realize that, if we were to hold eachother now, nobody would see unless they came very close.
Slowly, shyly, I reach out with my hand and find the tip of Twilight's wing. It curls around my fingers as I take hold, and we keep walking without a single thought given to what sort of trouble would follow if someone were to come across us like this. I do it In part because I feel that I should after dropping the connection a few minutes before, and also in part because I'm dearly looking for something to ease the despondent sense of doom I feel after seeing Maneworthy, but mostly I do it because she's my marefriend, and it's what I want to do.
I smile at Twilight, and she smiles at me, and we keep walking toward Canterlot Castle, limb in limb.
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Well. That was a surprise.
Damn, son, that came out of nowhere!
...The fuck, bro?
Yep, this was a good one, thanks for give us this, even tohugh you stopped writing, its a good gift-
A nice surprise. Thanks!
YES! Best Christmas present ever!!!
Well this was a surprise, can't say i didn't enjoy it though! Thanks for the chapter on this amazing story
Fucking author taunting me with your charming ability to write, and your goddamn tear-jerker, and that fucking ending.
You think you're better than me, don't you? You smug son of a bitch.
Go ahead, leave this chapter here like a fucking care package from Zeus and drop me like a sack of Idaho potatoes. I don't even care.
Fuck
Yay it LIVES! Can't wait to read more!
This isn't dead? Color me fucking shocked.
5432339
samehere m8
Wow, it's been a long time since this got updated, and yet I still remember how the story goes. It's wierd that I don't have a bad memory for these long fanfics.
Thanks for the special chapter, Cloud. I know you are done writing, but you still got the charm to make this story enjoyable.
Hope you had a fine Christmas, and enjoy the New Year's.
I'm pretty sure this story is done. This is just some little tidbit added. I'm sure he isn't coming back with a whole new story arch. Would be nice but be reasonable and just enjoy the chapter.
It was quite morose. However, I enjoyed and appreciated it. It was sad, realistic but ended on a heartwarming and hopeful note. Thank you. Now I need to go and hug all my family.
You return, just to punch us in the gut, and give us melancholy feelings.
...
Great To see you back Cloud! :D
Woah! Now this is an awesome little Christmas gift you've given us here. Thank you for this dude, you're awesome and so is this story. This chapter's style is one I really enjoy. Something happy and sweet juxtaposed with a something bittersweet and tragic. A reminder that not all things are always good or right even when they should be at their brightest. I also was really in love with the scenery you painted for this chapter. The lights and wind and cold seem to vividly to leap out if the descriptions. Anyway, thanks again for this, I miss your writing here, but I hope all is well with everything else, and that the novel you going to attempt is coming along smoothly.
5432033 Well... it's rude, but you aren't wrong. I look back on my stories with a fondness, but not any sort of pride. They aren't particularly well written - mediocre all the way through at best - but they helped me improve my abilities much more than if I'd just been writing stories and kept them to myself.
5432337 5431874 5432204 5432432 5432400 5432619
Just a broad reply to some of the people reacting strongly to the second part of the story: I know it's not very Christmas-y, but I wanted to show that things after the ending aren't all happiness and sunshine. I was worried that I didn't convey it well enough, but I wanted to also give the impression - through their frequent and lengthy silences - that Keys and Twilight's relationship isn't perfect.
Oh, and just so that there's no confusion: this is a one-off thing,nnot a revival of the story. Sorry guys.
5432337 Yeah, I contacted the guy about it just recently, but he stopped responding after a few messages - although it's not my place to say wrong of it; everyone's got their own thing going on. I might send you a copy of the notes of that I sent him, if you'd like, just for shits and giggles.
Happy new year, man!
(P.S. It's really nice seeing a lot of the old regualr commentors show up for the bonus chapter. Those warm holiday fuzzies)
5432767
I just meant that it was so like you to write something like that. even if its just a one time thing it was still nice to read.
5432808 That's my style; kick 'em in the balls and walk away.
Is there gonna be a Romance fic between Keys and Twilight?
What a delightful surprise
And then a thoroughly depressing chapter.
To say that it was a pleasant surprise that, while in the middle of reading over this story for the third time, there came a chapter out of nowhere would be an understatement.
I'm happy I got through with this, although it made me somewhat sad.
5436581 (un)Surprisingly, no one else seems to appreciate my comment. Probably because I say "fuck" a lot.
Extremely well done on both stories, will there be more from this verse in the future?
5432767 Sequel please
if thats ok with you
Your writing is wonderful, and finding an unread chapter in this story was most certainly a delightful belated Christmas present of sorts.
It would be nice to see you write here again someday, but if you don't, thank you for all the stories. They're some of my favorites here.
I've Always enjoyd your fics, and it's really nice to see that you on occasion write a fic every now and then.
5506415
Holy shit.
That is one of the most edgiest things that I have ever seen. And I am shocked, and abhorred that I'm the one who wrote that.
If I could go back in time and slap past me in the face for being an edgy cunt, I would.
Finally got around to reading this chapter and found a very big thing "HAYTHAM BUCHANAN" this is so close to my real name that it's almost scary.
6153751
Uh, do you realize how long ago that was posted?
I was kind of edgy back then.
6210666
You might want to look back a few comments.
I beleaved her.
not a bad story, even if maybe "petrification" could be a little excesive and they only catched one of the mind controlers and we don't know in the end what they do to him or them.
This was a beautiful story and a wondrous experience. Not the kind of stories i usually like to read, but it came as an appreciated change.
> feelsgoodman.jpg
Kind of sad that there isn't going to be a third part, since there are so many themes the story leaves in the open.
What about Trixie and her regret?
What about Keys mental treatment?
Do he and Twilight encounter problems as a new formed couple?
Does her coronation change anything about their relationship?
Not to mention the colt now with his talent. Actually this chapter feels more like one that would fit in a third part of your story.
Well, I will just wait and hope that someday there will be more. No matter how long the wait will be!
7057865 You'd have to be soulless to not love that song.
Coincidentally, my redhead sister hates it.
6909546
Oh for fuck's sake.
I wrote that. Once upon a time, I actually thought that was something worth writing.
Ew.
7400974
1. Posted 181 weeks ago
2. Blatantly obvious troll
8029099 I've actually tried to read in a dream.
Why was Billy Joel in captivity in the first place?
Very nice follow-up to the origin story. It does leave loose ends, but I suppose that was intentional. Stuff like 'what was that herb, really?', 'What happened with the investigation into the attempted mind control in court?', 'Was there something about 'Keys' that caused Trixie to become even more psychopathic than usual?' etc. Though in regards to the last thing, it was obviously still her original intention to rip a human from its home and enslave it anyway.
That 'Holiday Special' was harsh dood. Though bit of a weird time jump. They were planning on moving over to Ponyville, so it hasn't been THAT long, but Twilight managed to become an Alicorn in that time?
Shame that there wasn't another sequel, but if you're burned out, you're burned out.
8689531
For a psychopathic sort of person like Trixie, especially considering she was estranged from her family and living a loner's life? It isn't a huge punishment.
Really, the Petrification punished her family more than her.
There’s more to this story than it may seem
I play the piano and I can conquer that it is worth it to learn, I mean it is still difficult to learn.
Is he turning into a pony? That's kinda what the cover art seems to be implying.
I personally found this story to be pretty great. It's a bit more realistic than some of the things I've read and the connections formed feel more real than a lot of hie stories. Though the twi-keys relationship feels like it could have used a bit more time I would still read a good 2-3 more books based around your creation.
10427629
Me too. I want to see Trixie parents learn that you can't save your kids from the consequences of bad decisions. I want to see him recover from his imprisonment mentally and physically and I want to see him help the first pony Mozart become that. I want to see him and twilight become closer and maybe Celestia officially apologize for being paranoid and ready to believe the worst of him.
I wish certain parts were longer but overall it was a nice story
An okay-ish story overall.