• Published 12th Mar 2020
  • 1,304 Views, 23 Comments

Incomplete - shortskirtsandexplosions



It's New Year's Eve. Do you know where you and your friends are?

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Perfect Present

“Hello?” Rainbow Dash held a cell phone to her ear. In the other hand she cradled a cup of cider—tipping. “Darn it, Pinkie Pie! It's New Year's Eve, girl!” She waved lazily towards the wide screen television across the noisy living room.. A glittery ball hung pendulously atop a snow-laden pole in the middle of a metropolitan downtown square somewhere. “Get your butt over here before it's too late!”

“Tell her to drive safely,” Fluttershy insisted, sitting a few cushions down on the couch. “It's the most dangerous evening to be out on the roads, after all.”

“Fluttershy says to be safe!” Rainbow squawked into the phone, smirking. A few seconds past, and she responded to the bouncy person on the line. “Yeah, well, your body will be thanking you tomorrow. Same with your folks! Now get over here!”

With a tiny beep, she cut the call and slid the phone back into the pocket of her running pants.

“She acts like tonight isn't a big deal and then wonders why we're so impatient with her,” Rainbow Dash muttered into her cup right before a sip of cider.

“Tomorrow never knows,” Rarity hummed.

Rainbow swallowed her drink and squinted at the chair sitting perpendicular to the sofa. “The heck are you on about?”

Rarity calmly knitted a scarf while sporting an even calmer smile. “Just an expression that I find rather poetic.”

“What does it mean?” Fluttershy asked.

“I'm not terribly sure.” Rarity shrugged. “It's a Beatles song title.”

“Hey, I've heard that song!” Applejack strolled into the living room, laying dessert treats down on the table between the gathered ladies and the television counting down. “Really trippy number, ain't it?”

You listen to the Beatles?” Rainbow droned.

“Yeah, and?” Applejack sat backwards on a chair borrowed from the kitchen and tilted the brim of her hat back. “I'll have you know I ain't a one trick pony!”

“Certainly helps to have an open mind, darling.” Rarity glanced at the t.v. screen. Snow fell and people danced in the streetlights. “Musically, that is—among other things.”

“Hmmm...” Rainbow Dash scratched her chin in thought. “Guess I'll give it a listen-to sometime.”

“You do that, sugarcube.”

“Say...” Twilight Sparkle finished her cup of cider and placed it down on the table before them. “...did you know that John Lennon used to beat up his wife?”

“John Lennon? For real?”

“Yeah.” Twilight nodded. “It's not something that a lot of people know.” She adjusted her glasses. “While his public face may have been creative and inspiring, he was really... truly abusive to his family at home—emotionally as well as physically. At least his first family: Cynthia and Julian Lennon...”

“Oh...” Fluttershy held a hand up to her distraught face. “...my goodness, how awful...”

“Eh...” Rainbow shrugged. “That's life, I guess...”

“In America, I reckon,” Applejack added.

“Rainbow! Applejack!” Rarity frowned. “How could you say such things? Have some heart!”

“What's to have or not have? You gonna change history any more than we can?”

“It at least helps to have some good sense when looking forward to the future!”

“Shhhh!” Twilight Sparkle waved at the others. “Hold that thought, girls! I think the countdown is starting!”

“Oh! Goodness!”

“Yeah!”

“Well yee-ha! About dang time!”

“Smashing!”

The girls huddled closer around the table, facing the television screen as the image zeroed in on the glittery sphere.

Sunset Shimmer sat far away. At her computer. Blinking.

A blank expression covered her beautiful face, and she stared a thousand miles past the scene in her living room. Her tongue rubbed along the roof of her mouth, forming friction, then eventually pronouncing:

“'John Lennon'... 'America'...” Her lips crested the edge of a grimace. “Tomorrow Never Knows...?”

The air sounded with the ringing of a cell phone.

Sunset turned—swiveling numbly on her chair. Using a mouse, she double-clicked the icon for a word processing program. A file opened up. The page was just five words repeating indefinitely—multiple lines of the same thing forming a horizontal forest of emotionless, meaningless text.

In the reflection of a vase, Rainbow Dash's figure could be seen stirring. The young woman held a phone to her ear.

“Hello?” A pause. “Darn it, Pinkie Pie! It's New Year's Eve, girl! Get your butt over here before it's too late!”

“Tell her to drive safely,” Fluttershy could be heard saying. “It's the most dangerous evening to be out on the roads, after all.”

“Fluttershy says to be safe!” Another pause. “Yeah, well, your body will be thanking you tomorrow. Same with your folks! Now get over here!” A distant beeping noise. “She acts like tonight isn't a big deal and then wonders why we're so impatient with her.”

Sunset Shimmer bit her lip. Hesitantly, she dragged her cursor over the entirety of the document. Once all of the repeating text was highlighted, she hit “delete.” She then held her fingers over the homerow keys...

“Tomorrow never knows,” said Rarity.

A shudder ran through Sunset's body. She hesitated, squirmed, then clicked her fingers across the keyboard.

Hello?

“The heck are you on about?” Rainbow rasped in the background.

Sunset continued typing.

Are you there?

“Just an expression that I find rather poetic.”

Sunset Shimmer's teeth clenched as she hammered more words into the document.

You. Yes, you. I know that you're there.

“What does it mean?”

“I'm not terribly sure. It's a Beatles song title.”

What even brought you here?

“Hey, I've heard that song!”

Is it something you're trying to find?

“Really trippy number, ain't it?”

Is it something you're trying to avoid?

You listen to the Beatles?”

Maybe you're here for the wrong reason. Maybe you came expecting something else. Or someone else.

“Yeah, and?”

Maybe it's because there's nowhere else to go. Nowhere else to relax. To be at ease. To feel happy.

“I'll have you know I ain't a one trick pony!”

I know how you feel. And yet, I don't. This is me. And yet it isn't.

“Certainly helps to have an open mind, darling.

Let's not pretend anymore. The ending isn't what I expected or what I hoped for. It's not what you wanted either. How could you ever have gotten what you wanted? How could any of us?

“Musically, that is—among other things.”

I think it's time that we all realized that it will never end. Not properly, at least.

“Hmmm... Guess I'll give it a listen-to sometime.”

Or, even better—or worse—there's nothing that will ever come to fill it.

“You do that, sugarcube.”

And just what is “it?” A hole? A question? A need?

“Say, did you know that John Lennon used to beat up his wife?”

What are we all sacrificing our time for? You, who receives? I, who offers?

“John Lennon? For real?”

What was it that keeps you going? And don't tell me that you're not going. That you're not continuing. That you're not believing.

“Yeah. It's not something that a lot of people know.”

You could stop right now if you wanted to. Stop—and abandon it all. These worlds that we manipulate. That we control. That we mutate and pervert and abuse and worship and hate and love—much like our own: disparate and unique and strong yet somehow always struggling to be filled.

“While his public face may have been creative and inspiring, he was really... truly abusive to his family at home—emotionally as well as physically. At least his first family: Cynthia and Julian Lennon...”

I know that this isn't real. Maybe you've always known that I've known.

“Oh my goodness, how awful.”

But have you always known why you've continued searching for it? Why you still hang around? Why you dig in and not just simply overlook?

“Eh...That's life, I guess...”

This is a great place to visit. And I welcome it. I really do.

“In America, I reckon.”

But don't make it your home. Don't overstay your welcome. In time, your only anchor will be a bitter one.

“Rainbow! Applejack! How could you say such things? Have some heart!”

You want a lesson? A moral?

“What's to have or not have?”

Here it is.

“You gonna change history any more than we can?”

Friendships are like pets. All they're ever good for is dying. Lasers have nothing on that.

“It at least helps to have some good sense when looking forward to the future!”

Learn to adapt. To move on. To make your home anywhere and everywhere. Or else all the anchor will do is drag you down.

“Shhhh!” Twilight Sparkle waved at the others. “Hold that thought, girls! I think the countdown is starting!”

Sunset Shimmer's fingers lingered on the keys. She looked over her shoulder.

Five shapes dotted the couch. Gyrating. Resounding.

“Oh! Goodness!”

“Yeah!”

Snow was falling upwards across the t.v. screen.

Outside Sunset's house windows, it was all the same.

“Well yee-ha! About dang time!”

“Smashing!”

Sunset exhaled through her nostrils.

As the music's pitch shifted, she looked to her computer screen.

Her eyes ran up and down the document.

The five words repeated again and again, from start to finish.

A meaningless horizontal forest.

A phone rang once more. Or perhaps for the first time.

Rainbow's voice cracked: “Hello?”

Lethargically, Sunset dragged her mouse cursor over the text. Her finger hovered over the “delete” key.

Get your butt over here before it's t—

Comments ( 23 )

That is a special sort of melancholy

PresentPerfect
Author Interviewer

why do I feel called out

Fitting on multiple levels. I'm looking for a new job but may have to move to California to find it. I only keep a small number of close friends, so it will be difficult. :fluttercry:

I don't plan on staying forever, but there's still a lot I have planned before I leave. And it's not like I'm the only one still here.

I don't think I've ever been called out so hard by something that I don't even know what's calling out. There are like, at least 5 different things that this could refer to, but really it's biggest effect on me is gonna be messing up my Bookshelf system. I think, maybe, one day, when this site has died down and nobody posts new content, this may be the sole story in my Incomplete folder. Never moving on to Complete, and never moving down to Indefinite Hiatus. Or maybe it won't. Maybe, we'll keep getting new stories, new authors, new fans, until the day comes that servers go down because knighty died or the Internet got blown up or something. We won't know until we get there, I guess. And hey, like what FoME said, I still have a lot to do before I leave. Even if I don't write anything, these stories (4327 and counting, and that's just the completed ones) aren't gonna read themselves.

10127192
Cali is cool though because it has me and also In-N-Out.

I don't think it'll ever really end. Not completely. There's something to be said for sticking around, like an old blanket bundled in the corner of your bedroom. Comforting, in a melancholic kind of way.

But it's so comfortable here. No wind or waves to rock my boat. If I hoist the anchor and push off the shore, well I'll be back to sailing the great unknown.

But I guess I'm a boat in this analogy, and boats are made for sailing.

I don't understand

I don't' know what's going on.
But it doesn't stop me from feeling.

Skirts, you ought to play The Stanley Parable.

I don't under... is this a jab at all the stories left incomplete on this site?

Yep, there's the familiar notes of a skirtsfic.

They still hurt.

PresentPerfect
Author Interviewer

I don't know that I understand what I have inspired, but I am nevertheless deeply unsettled.

I don't think Skirts meant to dispense this as sober advice, but this I cannot left unsaid:

Learn to adapt. To move on. To make your home anywhere and everywhere. Or else all the anchor will do is drag you down.

I think I am that kind of person and it sucks. I don't really treat my friends as anchors in the good sense (though I like to imagine that, at least as long as some friendship outlives corrosion, I put great effort into humility and appreciation for what is given to me in terms of care and support, and if there is a pet in those relationships, it's not a caring one), but life really is just about moving on no matter how much is left behind, no matter how much has been taken out of one. Because you don't get to decide who or what or when will be taken from you. And yet just to be anchored here, is the greatest joy, right?

...right?

To make your home anywhere and everywhere. Or else all the anchor will do is drag you down.

This is actually the exact principle on friendship I've come to form and adopt. Devy below put it well.

I've never been very good at leaving. And I have no idea how friends happen. Hence the rut.

I’m trying to figure out what the five words are

I tried leaving, but I suppose I never really cut the anchor loose. I'll stay for a bit longer.

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