Chapter 2: The Newcomer
It was the ever-watchful Vinyl Scratch who first noticed an unknown pony trotting tentatively towards them all from across the room. One by one, the others clued in and followed her gaze until all four were quiet and expectant by the time the stranger halted next to their table. The newcomer was an average-looking Earth Pony, or at least average by Equestria’s standards. Vinyl Scratch noted she had her shoulders drawn up in an involuntary defensive posture, despite clearly trying to be brave.
“Wanna sit with us, sulky stranger mare?” Screwball asked. “Always extra room for an extra Extra in a club already full of ‘em!”
The newcomer nodded mutely and obliged, sidling up between Lyra and Blossomforth. She wasn’t looking anypony in the eye.
“You sound like Vinyl before she got comfortable opening her mouth around us,” Blossomforth slurred. “Which means you don’t sound like anything at all.”
“Okay, put a bridle on it,” Lyra scolded.
Blossomforth complied by downing the rest of her drink and laying her now very heavy head down on the table.
“Sorry,” Lyra said to the newcomer. “Bloss is five... well, now six mixed drinks in at this point. We’ve been spending the evening celebrating our successes on the show.”
“Mm-hm. I know.” the newcomer said. Her voice was breathy, yet small-sounding. Like a flute. “This is the Extras Club. And you’re Lyra Heartstrings, the leader who sits weird.”
Lyra smirked. It was true she was the only one present not perched on their stool like a normal pony. Instead, her back hooves were flat on the floor while her front ones lay folded over each other on the table. Biped posture was what it was called. A quirk she’d picked up from associating with humans online.
“Oooh, she knows you.” Screwball giggled. “It appears we have a fan in our midst. In our presence. And to the fan who is present, I shall presently present...a present.”
The newcomer let out a slight “eek” as a napkin in front of her rippled and became a piece of wrapping paper patterned with Screwball’s Cutie Mark. The paper then folded into a cube with a bow on top. The newcomer eyed the bundle nervously.
“Screwy…” Lyra warned.
“Open it, beloved fan.” Screwball urged. “I may pack draconequus heat, but the stuff I conjure with it is cool for the whole family. Honest it is.”
“That’s very kind of you, but I came over for advice, not gift-”
“Open it!” Screwball chirped. “OpenitOpenitOpenitOpenitOpenit....”
“Screwball!” Lyra shouted.
The Spawn of Chaos scrunched her muzzle shut and looked submissively at her club leader.
“Take a break.” Lyra commanded.
Without another word, Screwball hopped off her seat and headed towards the bathroom. While her trotting appeared clownish and carefree, she was privately frazzled and grateful for the reprieve.
“So that’s Discord’s manic daughter,” the newcomer breathed after the bathroom door opened and shut. “She’s a lot more excited to make new friends than her old man is.”
“More excited than he is, yes.” Vinyl Scratch agreed. “B-b-but sadly much more over-b-b-bearing about it.”
“Don’t worry; she’ll be fine” Lyra promised. “Give Screwy some alone time to recharge her social battery, and she comes back calmer and way less in-your-face. Just don’t comment on it when she does. I’m sure she’s plenty embarrassed already.”
The newcomer looked down at where Screwball’s gift had been and saw it had returned to its previous state as an unfolded napkin. The newcomer wistfully wondered what would have been inside.
“Since it seems you already know me and Screwball,” Lyra continued. “I’m guessing the others don’t need to introduce themselves.”
Blossomforth, with her face was still laying against the table, made a grunting noise. It was supposed to be a greeting, but her sixth drink had apparently deactivated her speaking ability.
“Blossomforth the contortionist,” the newcomer said.
Blossomforth didn’t have the energy to pick her head up, but she did wave politely as she could in what she hoped was the newcomer’s direction.
“And you, you’re DJ P0N-3.”
Vinyl Scratch’s eyebrows rose up from behind her glasses in surprise. “B-b-been a long time since s-someone used my s-s-stage name,” she admitted. Maybe Screwball’s quip earlier had actually been an observation, not a joke: maybe this new pony was a fan of all of them.
“So who’re you?” Lyra asked genially.
“Oh my. We’re asking the hardest question straight out of the gate, huh?” The newcomer rubbed the back of her neck. “I um… I don’t actually have a name.” The admission radiated self-consciousness, which was a terrible emotion that Vinyl Scratch knew all too well.
“Maybe not a c-c-canon one,” Vinyl ventured, “But you know, none of us had canon names either-“
Another grunt from Blossomforth.
“None of us except B-B-Blossomforth had canon names either,” Vinyl Scratch amended. “Til we each did something endearing in the b-b-background, and those who s-s-saw us gave us names. Are you s-s-saying that hasn’t happened for you yet?”
The newcomer chuckled to herself. “Well, the truth is, I’ve never actually been onscreen.”
“Hold up,” Lyra said. “You’re not an OC, are you?”
The newcomer shook her head. “Uh-uh, I’m as real as you are. I’ve just haven’t ever been seen.”
Now that was an interesting enough claim to motivate Blossomforth to try lifting her head up to take a second look at this supposedly pre-release pony. After all, she herself didn’t originate from the show either, having once been exclusive to the toyline.
Sluggishly, Blossom contorted her neck, rolled her head sideways, and took in what she saw: A mane identical to Octavia Medley’s, though it was shades of blue instead of grey. A coat that was pink and featureless except for a Cutie Mark depicting two intertwined horseshoes. And eyes whose colors and lash design were copypasted from Pinkie Pie, albeit with less pep in them. Blossomforth groggily concluded that the pony might benefit from being even more bland, since a total lack of uniqueness would be kind of a unique quality all on its own. As she was though, she was as middle-of-the bell curve as it got. Not even noticeably average in her averageness. Energy spent, Blossomforth let her head thump back down on the table. Vinyl patted Blossom’s back sympathetically while Lyra tried to think of something to say to the nameless mare.
“You haven’t ever been seen? I don’t know how to respond to that. You know there’s only one episode left before the finale, right?”
The nameless mare nodded. “And I’m slated to appear in it.”
“You d-d-d-don’t sound excited about that,” Vinyl observed, still rubbing Blossomforth’s back.
“The truth is,” the nameless mare said, drawing her shoulders up even further, “I’m afraid of what will definitely happen after I finally put my face out there.”
Lyra leaned forward, propping her chin on a forehoof. Fallout from cameos was a topic she was very well-qualified to speak on. “And what is it you’re afraid will ‘definitely happen’ ?”
“Yeesh!” came Screwball’s call as she returned to the table. “Sorry I took a day n’ a year to come back. The soap shooting doohickey at the sink was busted, and I had to wait for somepony else to show up to fix it.”
Lyra was about to scold Screwball for interrupting, but Vinyl Scratch silenced her with a gentle nudge. The nameless mare had actually turned to face Screwball with a soft expression on her face.
“Why didn’t you just use your… um chaos powers on the dispenser to make it work again?” she asked, genuinely curious.
“No magic without an audience” came Screwball’s admission. “My dad conjured me to be his jester, and it’s baked into my bones like gingerbread that I need a watcher before I can make wackiness happen. Like I said, hadda wait for somepony else to show up ‘fore I fixed the soap thingy.”
“Oh?” Blossomforth’s voice was muffled and still not very articulate, but her highly efficient pegasus metabolism was working the alcohol out of her system very quickly. “Spill, girl; what'd you do to the dispenser, and who was the innocent witness?”
“Um…” Screwball tapped her lower lip thoughtfully. “Turned it into an elephant head that shot bubbles out of its trunk. And… a donkey foal with a yellow bow in her tail.”
Blossomforth shakily sat up. “For real? An elephant soap head?” She struggled to her hooves and began staggering off in the direction of the mare’s room. “That's amazing. This I gotta see!”
“Surely that thing disappeared after you left,” the nameless mare said to Screwball after Blossomforth was out of earshot.
“Undoubtedly,” Lyra confirmed from across the table. “But Bloss could use a good puke, so just as well that she goes to the bathroom right now.”
Vinyl nodded in agreement.
“Hey, I just realized we never swapped intros,” Screwball said, conjuring a business card and presenting it to the nameless mare. “I’m Screwball, Discord’s defective debutante daughter, and Executive Treasurer of the Extras Club.”
The nameless mare examined the card she’d been given. “This is a fifty percent off coupon for an order of donuts at Pony Joe’s,” she concluded.
“And I’ve been treasuring it, as my self-appointed job demands.” Screwball declared. “You can keep that, by the by. It’s expired.”
“This is a very thoughtful gift, Screwball. I’ll treat it well.”
Screwball watched in stunned surprise as the stranger folded the silly scrap of paper and tucked it behind her ear. Nopony, not even the other Extras, had ever responded so tenderly to one of Screwball’s off-the-cuff bits like this. It made her feel...good.
“Um…,” Screwball was off her game now. “So… what’s your title, new friend?”
“I’m unnamed.”
“Nice to meetcha, Unnamed. Enjoying chatting it up with the others? They’re nice ponies. Honest they are.”
“Mm-hm,” replied the newly christened Unnamed. She looked directly at Vinyl Scratch, remembering what the unicorn had said about being given a name after doing something endearing. “They really know their stuff.”
“What we don’t know though,” Lyra reminded everyone, “is how come you decided to sit down with us. You said you were looking for advice?”
“Oh. Yes.” Unnamed deflated noticeably having been reminded of the emotional baggage she needed help offloading. So far the Extras Club had been even more accommodating than she’d dared to hope, so it was at least worth a shot to ask about their experiences.
“As I said, after putting it off until the absolute last standard episode, I’ve worked up the courage to appear as an Extra.”
“Do you have a speaking part?” Blossomforth called as she approached the table and sat down again. Her normally white face was flushed pink, but her mannerisms were much less floppy than they were when she’d left. She'd definitely expelled a stomachful of booze in the other room. It appeared Lyra was two for two when it came to predicting what her friends needed to reinvigorate themselves.
“No speaking,” Unnamed admitted. “Just a startled yelp when a demonic apple pops out of the bushes in front of me.”
The members of the Extras Club stared at Unnamed. All had confused expressions except for Screwball. Her knowing smirk said she recognized her dad’s work a mile away.
“It makes sense in context,” Unnamed added hastily. “I promise.”
Blossomforth snorted. “No weirder than the time I had to stand on a polished gold street and be blinded by the glare. They made me do six takes for that one."
“You have an impressive work ethic,” Unnamed said, eliciting a grin from the still tipsy pegasus. “As I said though, it’s not the actual scene that frightens me. It’s the act of going onscreen at all.”
“S-s-stage fright?” Vinyl guessed.
Unnamed shook her head, gently to avoid dislodging her impromptu coupon barrette. “No, posing for the camera is very appealing to me. The reason I’m afraid to do it is..." she shuddered like a hunted animal. "because I know what the viewers do to background characters. They… twist you. Make stories and drawings and share them amongst themselves and use them to make you into something you’re not.”
“Hold up,” Lyra said. “I’m not denying that the fanbase has some hypercreative weirdos in it, but you look ready to cry just thinking about this sorta stuff.” She reached across the table and laid a hoof on Unnamed’s tense shoulder.
“Unnamed, look at me.”
The latter’s eyes were downcast.
“Please.”
Slowly, the nameless mare’s tentative gaze met Lyra’s concerned, motherly one.
“What is it that you’ve seen?”
“In the past nine years, plenty. You know how Extras always have somepony to look at from our spots on the sidelines? Well I’ve been on the sidelines of the sidelines, looking at other Extras.” She swallowed guiltily. “Looking at all of you.”
Every hardwired instinct in Screwball’s brain demanded she fire off an irreverent one-liner to kill the tension. She fought back by putting her hoof in her mouth and biting down to avoid saying anything. The demands continued for a bit, but once Screwball’s bite drew blood, they gave up.
“Easy now,” Lyra said to everypony who needed to hear her, but to nopony in particular. “So you’ve been watching the four of us from afar. We’re okay with that. Right, girls?”
Three heads nodded.
“Not just you as ponies, but the things the fans have made based around you too.”
“I see.” Lyra said. “I think I understand exactly where you’re coming from, then. It’s hard to sort through those things, isn’t it? For us anyway. Separating canon depiction from fan depiction is easy for the Mane Six, since they get to strut their stuff and show their personalities every week. That’s what makes it easy to laugh off any portrayal of them that… what’d you call it? ‘twists you into something you’re not?’ But for us, it’s different. Who we really are isn’t front and center, so when an outsider looks at us, the real us is obscured by… help me out girls, what fan works out there obscure the real us?”
The other Extras were silent for a moment. Each had old wounds that they were quietly preparing to reopen for Unnamed’s benefit. Lyra had done the same back when she first appealed to each of them for membership, and hers were the deepest of all.
“The first...” Blossomforth cleared her throat. “The first and last thing most viewers know about me is I’m that I’m double-jointed.” She bent a foreleg back behind her head to demonstrate. “So naturally, I have a Rule 34 page a mile long, filled with the most degenerate contortionist poses you could imagine. And unlike most other ponies, my porn gallery is the first thing most people think of me when they hear my name. Blossomforth the boneless nympho, that's my legacy. It’s demeaning as all hell, but I got the Extras Club to go to where I can forget about all of that.”
Screwball went next.
“I may talk like a loon, but I’m not dumb like one. So many fanfics lick-and-stick me in a mental ward like I got something wrong with me that needs to be cured. Or other stories will ratchet me up to ten-times-the-power-of-evil so I cause waaaay more carnage than my dad ever did. But that’s not who I really am. I know I’m weird, but I’m not sick or dangerous. I’m just… me.” She sniffled and wiped her swirl patterned eyes. “Ya know, you four are the only ones other than my dad who have ever made me feel like it's okay to just be me.”
Unnamed was acutely aware of the paper she'd accepted from Screwball and folded behind her ear.
“A P-P-P-Puppet To Her Fame,” Vinyl Scratch said when her turn came. “one of the most d-d-despicable fics ever published, is b-b-based around abusing Octavia, my closest friend.” There was boiling anger interlaced between her words. “I’m featured in it as her emotional anchor. Her hope for escape from the d-d-demonic thing that pulls her life’s strings. And at the end…” the normally calm disc jockey was shaking with rage. “at the end my c-c-character abandons her. Abandons her. Octavia was the p-p-pony who taught me not to b-b-be ashamed of the way I talk. She enc-c-c-couraged me to join the Extras Club, which was the greatest decision I ever made in my life. And how does that fic have me treat her? Like t-trash to be thrown away! I would never! Never ever!”
Unnamed had never seen a pony so upset on another’s behalf before. Then again, she’d never known a pony whose life had benefited so much from another individual’s presence as much as Vinyl Scratch’s clearly had.
At last, it was Lyra’s turn to speak.
“I’ve been pretty responsive to my human fans since day one,” she began. “You know, every cast member - from the most obscure Extra to Twilight Sparkle herself - has a fanclub that reaches out to them. But as far as I know, I’m the only pony who decided to reach back. I engage with my fans on blogs and messageboards pretty much every day. I love humans as much as they love me, and I can tell you after nine years of performing for them that’s a heckuva lot. But when I open myself up to their love...” Lyra restlessly pushed her stool back and stood upright on her hinds, forelegs hanging at her sides. “...I also open myself up to their abuse. You think Blossomforth has a lot of messed up porn made of her? Well I’m the subject of ten times as much, most of it cuz people interpret my appreciation for humans as some sort of cross-species fetish. You think Screwball has a lot of depictions that play up her psychological issues? Well as horse who barely acts like one, I have an endless stack of works that cast me as a dysphoric psycho. And as for the abusive fics...”
The image of a black hoodie flashed in Lyra’s mind. She gave a full body shiver, placed one forehoof on the table to steady herself, and used her other to pull her glass of whiskey up to her lips. She drank deeply, savoring the burning warmth that filled her body.
“I’ve seen dark fics in my life. Monstrous fics. Traumatizing fics. But it’s all worth it.”
Unnamed blinked, unsure how to respond.
“It’s worth it because, like I said, I love humans. And I truly believe most of them love me back. For every hateful or sadistic fanwork I see, there are hundreds more made with care. I’ve stood with humans these nine years because for every one of them that tried to shove me down onto my flank, a dozen others were there to catch me before I hit the ground. I started the Extras Club because I wanted other background ponies to feel how I feel: proud of the impact they made on the lives of the people who watch us. When we go out onscreen, even if its just for half a second, we inspire so much creativity in so many good people that I believe that’s worth getting together and celebrating about.”
Lyra raised her glass a final time.
“Here’s to Anthropology, an animated musical teaser that some incredible person took the time to make for me.”
Screwball raised her shot glass of seltzer. “To Daddy Discord, one of the first animatics this fanbase ever produced, and the coolest thing I’ve ever been a part of.”
Blossomforth sloshed the half-melted ice around her glass. She was definitely done drinking for the night, but a toast was a toast, after all.
“To the Winningverse.” She said finally. “A collection of wonderful fics where I’m the deuteragonist. I still can’t believe someone picked a throwaway like me to co-star in something so huge.”
“And to way t-t-too many original songs to count,” Vinyl finished. “About all of us. I don’t need Lyra’s hooves-on-the-ground perspective to know humans are a very musical bunch. I can respect that even from afar."
At Screwball’s prompting, a cup of water popped into existence in front of Unnamed. Her courage bolstered by what she'd heard tonight, she lifted it up.
“Long live the legacy of the Extras,” their newest club member said, tapping her cup against the glasses of the others. “Thanks girls, for showing me it’s never too late to join the herd.”
The four old friends and the brand new one ended up talking and laughing late into the evening, recounting the past and speculating excitedly about the future. Bets were placed on the impact Lyra and Unnamed’s upcoming appearances would have in the show’s final episodes and beyond.
Unnamed still didn’t know what fortune was in her cards, but at least she wasn’t frightened of it anymore. Now that she gave it some thought, expecting a massive dose of attention from just one humble background appearance was rather silly. Sure there was a guarantee that at least a few viewers who would notice her, but what would realistically come of that? Best case scenario, one of them would work up the motivation to write a short, feelgood fic that featured her as a character.
Yeah.
She felt like she would be okay with that.
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- Mockingbirb · 1.9k words · 19 1 · 543 views
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Vinyl? I am in. Lyra also best pone and Screwball is rate too. No idea about blossom doh
Edit
Huh. Much meta than I thought.
Interesting.
This was so sweet!
Reminded me of my favourite Blossomforth story
- MLP: FiM
- Comedy
- Slice of Life
Blossomforth and her friends visit a souvenir shop.Oddly enough, just today I was wondering about reading Background Pony. Have now added it to Read it Later!
9886032
I specifically chose Blossomforth cuz she’s obscure even by background character standards. All ponies deserve a salute, especially at the end of the show. And now I have a new fic to read that features her!
EDIT: Huh. Upon reading, I’m surprised to find someone beat me to the very specific punch of “Two-chapter story where Blossomforth is a member of a club where she complains about her obscurity in a very meta way.”
As for... the other fic mentioned, be warned: My depiction of Lyra doesn’t call it ‘traumatizing’ for nothing.
9885985
When it became a trend in canon to portray Vinyl as a non-talker, I tried to come up with an interesting explanation for it. I decided her appreciation for music that stutters on purpose was her way of coping with having a voice that stutters involuntarily.
I dunno, maybe that doesn’t work, but at least it made it easy to indicate when she was the one speaking in the story.
I can think of plenty of fics that were far more abusive to Lyra than Background Pony (by the same author, even), but considering how most of those managed it in far fewer words, I can see why she might be traumatized by the sight of a swell hoodie.
honestly, I'm surprised that this occurred to you at all after seeing her, which i guess proves a point.
and honestly, if i were Lyra i'd own the hoodie image myself, but i s'pose i'm not.
10014344
Truthfully, this fic was me taking a Meta-style framing device and just kind of sandboxing it with characters I liked. Since I already decided Unnamed’s core conflict would be fear of how the fans would treat her, I decided Lyra could function as a contrasting voice. The one who advocated embracing human attention, both good and bad, because it was better than the alternative that Unnamed was considering: not wanting attention at all.
After that I had an “oh crap” moment, realizing Background Pony was really high profile counterpoint to the Lyra’s “our legacies matter” argument. So I had to have Lyra acknowledge that fic as something Unnamed should not emulate.
10014382
Well, I can't think of anyone better to be the most knowledgeable of the outsider perspective of her. Good story op.
Silly background ponies, thinking they're misconstrued in fanfics, when in fact their lack of canon personalities means that fanfics are what give them their personalities to begin with. They're just not meta enough to realize it.
The alliteration seems to work against the intended anti-analogy.
I guess Blossomforth gets really bad at analogies when she's drunk.
Heh.
10072253
Whoa. Been a hot minute since I got any traffic on this particular fic.
I wrote this one loose and light, treating it more as a doodle session with words than I did my previous work. Alliteration crept up in random spots cuz I’m just a fan of the trope. The silly simile you caught is tied with “Discord’s defective debutante daughter” for my favorite quip in here. In hindsight you’re definitely right about the thematic misfire, but for a strange story about stranger horses, I suppose mangled metaphors are fairly fitting.
Speaking of which, someone finally noticed the intentionally inaccurate buckball line! Even though her initial appearance was doing track and field, it’s pretty clear Blossomforth was always a pretty hopeless athlete. I wanted to give a nod to that here.
Judging by your engaged comments, you had fun perusing the fic. That kind of success makes me happy.
10072381
I know you from Reddit, and you seemed like the kind of person who wrote good fan fiction, so I looked for a FIMFiction user of the same name, and bam.
I did. It reminds me a little of Wodehouse's Drones Club.
I just recently finished reading Background Pony, and while it was definitely dark, it was, in my opinion, a "woah" kind of dark as opposed to an "ew" kind of dark if that makes sense.
One of my earliest exposures to Lyra were some fanfics that had her as a faerie pony (as in the old world sense of the word) and one where she was writing letters to Bon-Bon every single day. There was of course some of the "edgier" stuff, but while I won't deny that I enjoy some of the more adult aspects of the fandom, I do my utmost to steer clear of the really bad stuff.