Pleasure
Wallflower Blush stood on the platform awaiting her train. The area was protected by a canopy of crisscrossing wooden beams overhead, and a row of benches lined the platform evenly for sitting in case a pony got tired of standing.
She could not begin to even consider doing such a thing at that time.
Beside her was a light orange unicorn mare. She reminded Wallflower of the sun with her fiery red and yellow mane that seemed to radiate heat. She was too bright for Wallflower as, like the evening primrose, she preferred the comfort of the night for fear of being burned alive in the flames of day.
They stood a short distance apart on the platform. The second pony turned to look at Wallflower. She stared into the second pony’s light blue eyes. An oasis of blue in her intense light.
It awakened a flurry of emotions within Wallflower. Nervousness. Distress over unvoiced feelings that threatened to burst forth every time she looked at the pony that reminded her of the sun.
The second pony spoke in a gentle, comforting voice. A single sentence.
It was the worst thing Wallflower had ever been told.
Wallflower woke up in bed. She was swaddled within thick dark green blankets on a bed that was several hundred bits out of her pay grade. She raised herself to a sitting position and surveyed her single bedroom luxury suite aboard the Morning Glory.
Light green walls patterned with darker vines, a small closet in one corner to store what little clothing she had brought, an en suite bathroom that was bigger than the one she had at home, and a single desk upon which sat an empty vase.
A massive window was embedded into the wall on her left. The clear glass showcased the gorgeous flower-covered hills of Equestria flying by in a sea of rainbow on what was known as the Garden Line.
She turned to look above the train compartment’s door at the clock hanging on the wall. It read 7 am.
It was time to get ready for the final day of the Annual Flower Viewing Party.
Wallflower removed herself from the tangle of blankets she found herself in and eased her hooves onto the greened-tinted wood floors of her room.
Always start the day by taking the time to breathe.
She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly to allow her sleep-addled brain to wake up.
Once done, she went over her mental checklist of things she wanted to do for the day. She had long since memorized the event schedule and could easily pull a mental image of the pamphlet she had received earlier that week.
There were several pavilions she wished to visit. Art exhibitions mostly. Places where she would be forced to be near a number of strangers. Dragged into conversations she had no business being a part of. Pushed into greetings and learning names of ponies she would never meet again. A never ending nightmare of knowing how much she would inconvenience others with her mere presence that she would-
When you feel overwhelmed take a moment to center yourself.
She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
She could worry about what would happen later after she was presentable.
Wallflower trotted to the en suite bathroom and grabbed a mane brush from the edge of the pearly white sink. A colour Wallflower found uncomfortable due to how easily it stained.
She methodically brushed out her tousled dark green mane and tail into something close to rolling waves. A few quick, harder, brush strokes along her fur brought what few errant strands she had of light green fur back into order.
She looked over her face. The bags under her brown eyes were faded, but still noticeable. She was sure it would be fine if she skipped applying makeup for one day.
Always stick to a routine. Familiarity breeds contentment.
Wallflower grabbed a compact from the other side of the sink. Inside were the bare essentials. She covered the eye bags under her eyes, threw on some light blush, and added a touch of eyeliner.
She closed the compact with a snap and looked over her face once more.
She looked horrible.
If you can’t think of something positive about yourself, then at least think of something neutral.
She looked presentable.
Wallflower trotted back to the main room and over to the closet. She slid open the door to reveal a wide-brimmed straw sun hat embroidered with a bouquet of flowers - a mix of daisies, sunflowers, and gladiolus - and a light green summer dress with puffed sleeves.
She laid the dress over top herself and buttoned up the front, leaving enough buttons undone so as to not restrict her breathing. The sun hat she placed onto her head and enjoyed the comfort brought by the resultant shade despite the roof over her head.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed the vase sitting by itself on the desk. Though she tried to ignore it, she still found herself standing before the desk and examining it in closer detail.
A tall nondescript beige pot painted with swirls of orange and yellow made to appear similar to coils of fire. It was filled to the ¾ mark with fresh soil ready for the transfer of flowers, but remained empty.
Poetically correct, based on her intentions and chances with said vase.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Wallflower turned to the door of her room in surprise. Somepony was knocking on the door. An unexpected occurrence.
Were they here to announce that the events were cancelled? Had she done something wrong? Was she being arrested? What crime had she committed? How would she survive in prison? Would-
Don’t become overwhelmed by ‘if’.
Before she could lose her nerve, she trotted to the door and slid it open.
Standing in the corridor just outside with a disgustingly cheerful demeanor was a bigger than average light orange pegasus stallion with a slicked back blue mane, and big expressive blue eyes. He was dressed in a train conductor’s uniform of cap and vest.
Wallflower had conflicting emotions about this stranger. He was imposing with his large size, but had an approachable smile on his face. He stood rigid, his muscles tensed to launch into action at a moment’s notice like the Royal Guard Wallflower saw everyday at Canterlot Castle, but was dressed as a worker on the train.
He was a walking contradiction.
She hated him immediately.
You should always give ponies a chance to show their best side to you.
She was tentatively annoyed with him.
The stranger grinned widely at her. “Good morning, Wallflower Blush.”
Wallflower wilted at the oppressive optimism that radiated off this pony in waves. “Good morning. Can I… Can...” Wallflower trailed off as she lost her nerve to ask what he was doing here.
You are just as important to be heard as anyone else.
“Can I help you… sir?” Wallflower asked.
“Well, you can’t help me, since I’m here to help you,” the pony answered enthusiastically. “Flash Sentry.” He bowed. “But I have become partial to Flash, Flashie, and ‘that idiot who won’t stop strumming Wonderbolt at every opportunity’.” He leaned in close to Wallflower with a wing covering his mouth. “Just between you and me, I do it for the boos,” he whispered conspiratorially.
“So, you’re...” Wallflower narrowed her eyes in question. “An escort?”
“Yep, I'm just here to guide you around the event. I know you would prefer somepony else-” He glanced at the vase sitting behind Wallflower. “But I'm the only one available on the train.”
“I don’t really think I need one, um, Flash.”
“No worries, I just want to help you out.” Flash gave Wallflower a soft, gentle smile. “I’m only here for you.”
Wallflower felt a deluge of anxiety crush her over this sudden change. This stranger was offering to help her and it was such a cruel act of him to do so. Why would he help somepony as disparaging as herself?
“I-I’m sorry, Flash, but this is-”
“I’m only here to help you reach your destination,” Flash interrupted. “I’ll be there when you need me, but will only make myself known when I feel that you’re struggling. What you do is for you to decide at your own pace.”
Wallflower bowed her head. “You mean for the pavilion events today?”
Flash gave a wide grin. “Of course. What else could I mean?”
Wallflower felt uncertainty grip her thoughts. Uncertainty at the help. Uncertainty at this apparent escort she was assigned. Uncertainty at having her plans seemingly controlled by this stranger.
He said she would dictate the pace, but would he really abide by that? Even worse, would he actually be there to help her, or disappear when she needed him most? Even beyond that, she couldn’t fathom how he would be able to stand being around her for an entire day.
It’s okay to accept help.
Despite those concerns, she liked the idea of somepony watching out for her on such a stressful day.
“Okay, Flash, I appreciate it,” Wallflower answered reluctantly.
“You're welcome, Wallflower. Now, should I remind you of the events planned for today?”
“If you don’t mind,” Wallflower replied.
“It would be my pleasure.” Flash tilted his head and brought a wing tip to his chin in thought. “Now, if I recall correctly there’s the Bonsai Exhibition, the Tea Party Social, the Flower Gallery, and, last but not least, the Rose Garden at the end of the train.” He perked up. “That should be everything, right?”
Wallflower nodded as it matched with her mental checklist. “It is.”
“First day, and I’m already nailing it.” Flash did a quick hoof pump in self celebration.
Wallflower rolled her eyes at the foalish display and shook her head at Sentry’s ridiculousness.
Flash pretended not to notice the admonishment. “Anyways since we know the schedule, is there anywhere you would prefer to start?”
Wallflower mulled over her options. “The Bonsai Exhibition if you don’t mind.”
“It’s not about what I mind, Wallflower. I’m just your handsome escort.” Flash gave another dazzling grin. “I’m just following what you want to do.”
“I’m not so certain about the handsome part.” Wallflower snarked.
“Okay, now listen here. I’ll have you know I’m considered very attractive.”
“To wasps maybe?” Wallflower giggled.
He smirked. “Now listen here, cheeks. I assure you that ponies are attracted to me.”
“Okay, okay, I’m sure you are very handsome to ponies,” Wallflower relented.
“You know it,” Flash stepped back, and gave a bow with his front half lowered and wing swept in front of himself. “After you, Wallflower.”
Wallflower, choosing to continue the silly exchange, held her head high and trotted forward past Flash and through the door.
She chose to ignore the fact that she nearly tripped on the doorstep as she exited.
The train car where the Bonsai Exhibition took place was circular in shape unlike the rest of the train. The floor was a spiral of light green woods. The walls and high ceilings were made of glass and covered in ivy that bloomed with red and orange flowers. Sunlight shone through the glass and lit the entire chamber in a soft white.
Small sectionals made of makeshift wood panelling were densely packed together around the room to show off various bonsai of all different shapes and sizes. Each bonsai reflected the unique personality and care of the gardener who tended to it.
It was a delight to the eyes of a trained gardener such as Wallflower.
Chatter was mumbled amongst the throngs of ponies that wandered the room. Nothing distinct could be made out as the sound was disrupted by the uneven distribution of the sectionals.
It was peaceful, relatively quiet, and allowed for introspection as she wandered from exhibit to exhibit.
Due to that last quality, it was thus a horrid experience.
Her thoughts plagued her with every step and rubbed against her surface level observations. It felt alien, unlike her own self. It railed against her isolation. Reminded her of how alone she was in this crowded room. That no one cared for her presence.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Flash stand resolutely by the entryway to the compartment. He faced forward with an unreadable expression on his face and his wings tightly bound at his side. It dispelled any doubts as to his occupation, or at least what he may have done in the past.
Only a member of the Royal Guard could stand like that for so long.
He noticed her staring, perked his ears and waved a hoof giddily at her with a foalish grin.
It dispelled the rather stoic image immediately.
Wallflower gave a small wave back and continued her wanderings.
She was happy to find her thoughts return to a semblance of normalcy with Flash’s simple acknowledgement of her.
Eventually, she found herself drawn towards a particular partition tucked away in a less travelled portion of the train compartment.
The panelling was made of dull red wood and appeared to be almost rotting in places. On a small table matching the sectional was a bonsai of a hedge maple tree grown into a strange configuration.
The trunk of the bonsai twisted in on itself in a curve akin to an overhanging lamp. From the top of the trunk, a deluge of small branches covered in blue-green leaves cascaded down in the rough shape of an umbrella.
As she observed the plant she felt an overwhelming feeling of sadness well up inside herself.
“A wallowing bonsai.”
Wallflower yelped as she turned to face the pony that had snuck up on her.
The pony in question was a light orange coated earth pony stallion with a morose expression. He had a neatly trimmed, short, autumnal orange mane connected to a chin strap beard along his jawline.
He looked up at her. A rare experience as Wallflower wasn’t the tallest pony.
“S-sorry, a what bonsai?” Wallflower asked hesitantly.
“A wallowing bonsai.” The stallion trotted towards the miniature tree and glanced over its leaves. “The leaves are looking dry.”
Wallflower waited patiently as the pony grabbed a spray bottle from behind the partition and lightly spritzed the tree. Shortly after finishing his work, she observed that the tree did appear more vibrant in colour.
The stallion refocused his attention on Wallflower. “Can I help you?”
“This is yours?” Wallflower asked.
“Yes. This particular growing configuration is a speciality of mine. Emphasis on the is.” The stallion closed his eyes then opened them again. “I used to do a very different type of bonsai before this.”
Wallflower felt her curiosity peak at the lead line of conversation. A tree such as this giving her such a feeling of misery at a glance for an unknown purpose? Some speciality that the gardener once did but doesn’t anymore?
Not to mention the expert work on the piece that Wallflower, a professional gardener, could not help but admire.
If you feel curious, ask questions.
Wallflower readied to bombard the stallion with inquiries, but became hesitant as she looked into his eyes. They were a vibrant, intense red. Within them was a pool of raw emotions that a part of Wallflower recoiled at.
She knew instinctively that to interrogate those feelings would destroy her.
“T-That’s very interesting, thank you,” Wallflower rattled off.
The stallion was quiet for a moment. “You are welcome; now if you do not mind, I think I will pack up for the day.”
Wallflower nodded and retreated towards the entrance where she knew Flash would be.
The better option as she couldn’t bear to burden the stallion with her annoying presence.
“How did it go?” He asked with a wide grin.
“F-fine, let’s just go to the tea party,” Wallflower said curtly.
“As you wish,” Flash replied.
As they left, Wallflower felt herself still thinking about those eyes and had a pang of regret at not indulging her curiosity.
The Tea Party was a very formal name for what amounted to an all-expenses-paid buffet of light snacks, small meals, and a massive variety of tea. The last fulfilling the promise of its premise.
It was midway through the length of the train and by far the smallest car in the line, causing its occupants to crowd together to ensure everypony would fit.
To further emphasize the cramped nature of the room, several long tables filled with the aforementioned refreshments took up one side of the room, while the other was buried in an avalanche of cushions and portable tables.
The car itself, like its compatriots, was made of glass with dark blue wooden flooring and overtaken by vines of ivy in bloom with blue and purple flowers.
The vines grew everywhere in this car. They were wrapped around the tables and cushions, strewn about the floor, and curled around the buffet tables. Everywhere one stepped they would find a bloom of ivy underhoof.
“Does that taste good?” Flash asked.
Wallflower stopped her casual surveying of the room. They were both seated at a table furthest from everypony else, or at least best managed with the claustrophobic nature of the car.
When they had managed to squeeze into the buffet line, she had made off with a plate of biscuits with jam and a cup of honeysuckle tea. Flash had opted for a bit of everything and promptly devoured the entire mountain shortly after they had sat down in a display that was as impressive as it was revolting.
She looked down to where Flash pointed with a wing and found he was referring to the carrot muffin she had managed to snag for dessert off a plate near the end of the buffet table.
A time that was nowhere near coming, as she had yet to finish even a single biscuit.
“I like them,” Wallflower said.
“Are you going to eat it?” Flash asked with a hopeful look.
Wallflower pushed the muffin towards him with a hoof. It was promptly devoured by the living pony dumpster disposal.
“Oh, that was good,” Flash gushed.
Wallflower sighed at her companion's open display of gluttony and returned to her room observation. She soon happened upon a Cutie Mark of a moon reflected on water.
She traced the Mark to its owner and found it attached to a blue-black pegasus with white socks, dark blue eyes, and a long light blue mane tied into a staggering number of loops.
Wallflower’s eyes widened in recognition.
“Know her?” Flash inquired on noticing Wallflower’s expression.
“That’s Morose Repose,” Wallflower said excitedly.
Flash stared at her blankly. “Should I know who that is?”
“Well, no, since you don’t seem the type to be much into globe trotting.”
“I like to travel,” Flash answered defensively.
“And catalogue plants?” Wallflower added.
“Eh, no.” Flash rubbed the back of his neck with a wing. “I mostly travel for music festivals.”
“That’s-” Wallflower struggled to add positivity to her voice on an activity she never cared for. “Nice?”
“It is, thanks.” Flash grinned to Wallflower’s relief. “So, as somepony that has no idea who you are speaking of, who is this Morose Repose?”
“She's a professional travel writer,” Wallflower explained. “Morose travels to territories outside of Equestria and writes guidebooks on the must see natural wonders of her destinations. I like her work a lot because she always includes an extensive guide to the local flora in the appendix.”
“Oh, that’s super rad.” Flash’s wings fluttered excitedly by his side. “I didn’t know we were in the presence of a famous travel writer. Do you want to meet them?”
“No,” Wallflower stated firmly.
Unfazed, Flash continued, “Okay, then are you going to finish your food?”
Wallflower stared down at her jammed biscuits. Her insides were tied in knots. Anxiety brought forth from the possibility of meeting somepony she admired and thoroughly disappointing them in how drab she was.
It had the side effect of making her feel nauseous.
“No, I’m not,” Wallflower finally answered.
“Awesome, more for me.” Flash grinned.
He grabbed the plate with both his hooves, and tipped the entirety of its contents down his throat with a single gulp. He pounded his chest with a hoof, and burped obnoxiously to the annoyance of everypony around them. He grinned as he either ignored the others’ glares or remained oblivious to them.
Could be either option with him.
“Shall we head to the next pavilion then?” He asked cheerily.
Wallflower gave a nod as she repressed the groan of embarrassment.
The Flower Gallery was the pavilion Wallflower had been most excited for that day. The car was a long rectangular space with a high ceiling made from a massive tree in the centre of the room with branches filled with white and yellow flowers. Makeshift walls and pedestals were placed intermittently on the bright white flooring.
Upon each display or frame was an art piece. Said art pieces, as per the rules of the gallery, were all made from plants.
One pedestal displayed a pony head carved from wood with a mane of rose bushes that formed wispy clouds.
Another piece had a frame made of entwined vines that housed a painting of ponies playing in a fountain, but done using dots made of grown flowers on a soil canvas.
One larger exhibition was a series of green shaded portraits. Vertical canvases of soil upon which grass was grown at varied lengths to give the image of a pony’s face when viewed as a whole.
Each piece was more wondrous and exciting than the last. A frontier of art never before explored, and only by the most devout of earth ponies. Every piece of art showcased the majestic beauty of natural materials.
It made Wallflower’s accomplishments seem pitiful in comparison.
Focus on what you can do, not what others can do.
But she accepted that she was not an artist in this sense. Her creativity and satisfaction came from the gardens she tended back in Canterlot, not in pushing the boundary of what was possible in the art world.
“Enjoying the gallery?” Flash asked as he came up next to her.
Wallflower allowed a small smile to grace her face. “Yes, I am.”
“Aye, there we go.” Flash grinned. “A genuine smile for the day.”
Wallflower rolled her eyes. “I can smile. I just choose to stay neutral most of the time.”
“Of course, of course,” Flash comforted. “Do you want to chat with anypony here?”
Wallflower frowned. “I doubt anypony here would care to speak with me.”
Flash stuck out his lower lip as he scanned the room then perked up as he stumbled onto what he had been searching for. He pointed to the found section with his wing. “What about her?”
Wallflower turned to where Flash was pointing and found a plump, bright yellow earth pony with a light brown mane tied into long braids and a Cutie Mark of a pie slice.
She sat on a bench before a painting made of woven grain stalks depicting a landscape of some farmhouse that was indistinguishable from the many that dotted the Equestrian landscape.
“Why her?” Wallflower asked.
Flash shrugged with his wings. “Dunno. The mare just seemed like the fun sort to talk to.”
Wallflower was confused by what Flash said, but examined the stranger more closely to see if she could find what he meant.
The mare had small brown freckles similar to poppyseeds all over her face. She had big golden eyes that spoke of inner warmth. A small content smile graced her muzzle, and, based on the laugh lines that adorned her face, it was a frequent expression.
She was like a sunbeam given life. A small ray of joy.
She was one of the most terrifying mares Wallflower had ever seen.
“N-no, I don’t think I will, Flash,” Wallflower stuttered. “Actually, I’m not feeling great. Can we just move onto the next car?”
She felt something cold within herself, a piece of her being that was disgusted with the very notion of the mare’s existence. She could feel herself shaking, overwhelmed by emotions Wallflower found difficult to process.
Flash gently placed a wing on Wallflower’s withers. She took a deep breath, exhaled, and began to calm down. She turned to look at Flash who gave her a gentle, patient smile.
“Sure, Wallflower. Let’s go.”
They trotted in step through the gallery to the final pavilion with Flash keeping Wallflower steady the entire way.
The Rose Garden was located in the second-to-last train compartment just before baggage, which was inaccessible to the non-employees on the train.
The garden itself was a small maze of rose hedges around a tree grown into the shape of a heart. As with the other cars, the ceiling was made of glass and covered in ivy. However, unlike the other cars, the floor was sodded over with grass.
Every possible variety of rose could be found somewhere within the twisting shrub rows of the garden. The finished garden work was delicate and required visitors to travel through with care, but for a train with nothing but avid gardeners as passengers that was hardly a problem.
It was a very quiet part of the train as it was out of the way of the main pavilions and less exciting, but the lack of ponies suited Wallflower just fine with how she was feeling.
She took a deep breath of the fresh garden air and trotted forward to begin her walk along the hedges.
She stopped shortly before the entrance when she realized Flash wasn’t following her. She turned back around to see him standing by the entrance with a sad smile on his face.
“Are you not escorting me around the garden?” Wallflower smirked. “I’m sure any wasps that may be present would be willing to leave you alone.”
He chuckled at that then shook his head. “No, sorry. For this part, you’ll have to overcome it alone. Eventually. I’ll be here for everything else, though.”
“To guide me back to my room?” Wallflower frowned in puzzlement.
“Yes, to guide you back to where you need to be,” Flash answered.
“I don’t quite understand what you mean, Flash.”
“You don’t need to. Yet.” He looked downcast before giving her a big smile. “I’m really hoping that everything will be fine for you, but if you’re here, it probably won’t. It certainly wasn’t for me. I just want you to know-” He paused for a moment and Wallflower could have sworn she saw tears in the corner of his eyes. “I need you to know that no matter how bad it gets, it will be okay on the other end.”
Wallflower was confused. She felt that he was telling her something important, but was missing key context to help her piece it together.
“I don’t understand what you’re saying, but you’ll be here when I finish my trot, right?” Wallflower asked hopefully.
Flash gave an affirmative nod.
She smiled at that, waved a goodbye, and trotted into the hedge maze beginning her journey through the maze.
She didn’t see Flash slump in place. Nor did she see him take a deep breath, and slowly, reluctantly, leave the train car closing the doors behind him.
Wallflower was surprised by how large the hedge garden was. She had been travelling for what felt like miles, but couldn’t have been more than ten minutes.
It seemed that no matter how far she went she would never reach the end.
The trot was at least enjoyable. She had passed every rose variety she could have thought of and more besides that she hadn’t even realized existed.
A ruby rose made from crystal from the Northern Empire.
A yellow and blue mocking rose from deep in the Everfree Forest.
A grey rose found naturally only in Griffonstone.
They were gorgeous, intriguing, and wondrous. A never ending bouquet of the most colourful, beautiful flowers imaginable raised with tender care.
Despite the length of her walk, the flowers made it enjoyable.
Now, if only her thoughts would stop ruining it.
She hadn’t passed a single other pony in the entirety of the maze. She was feeling isolated in the depths of the garden. Led astray by its curiosities and beauty.
She missed Flash. It was a surprising thought. She had gotten so used to his reassuring presence that with his company missing, she felt exposed. Like her safety net had been taken from her, leaving Wallflower at the mercy of unwanted thought.
And the more she traveled the more her thoughts turned inward.
A dangerous place to be, if only she could remember why.
She tried to block out the dark words that crept to the surface. She didn’t understand where they came from, nor why she so desperately needed to keep them at bay.
Every time she felt herself become flooded, she crushed them under a torrent of kind words given to her by a mare she couldn’t quite remember.
Don’t allow your thoughts to overtake you.
Don’t let yourself wallow in your own misery.
Don't turn your mind against yourself.
It bothered her. Every one of those words of encouragement sounded nothing like her. She couldn’t remember where they came from, or why they were in her head in the first place, but she knew it hadn’t originated from her.
It didn’t feel like a spell, just an automatic trained response. It scared her, being unable to recognize her own thoughts, but she also understood that they were there to help.
She found herself walking more briskly, frantically looking for something to resolve the conflicts in her mind.
As she rapidly swivelled about looking for an escape, she stopped before a display.
It was a small, cleared out alcove in the hedge. In said alcove was a bushel of wild roses. Pink, red, and orange flowers that were the less voluptuous cousins of the standard red rose. It was a quiet dignified flower that hid a fierceness unknown to those that didn’t look closely.
Like Sunset Shimmer.
Wallflower closed her eyes as she felt her breathing speed up.
Sunset Shimmer. Her best friend. Previous student of Princess Celestia, now assistant gardener to the Royal Head Gardener Wallflower Blush after a brief stint in another world.
Filled with burning passion.
A ferocious protector of those she cared for.
Wallflower would one day ruin her life.
A journal. That was where all the unfamiliar phrases had come from. They were phrases Wallflower had learned to use to cope when her thoughts or actions took a turn for the macabre.
Sunset had written all of them. For her.
They had been tending to the roses that day in the Sun Garden at Canterlot Castle. Both had been dressed in their gardener clothes and were in the process of pruning some of the excess growth from the bushes.
She had turned to look towards Sunset. She had been bright that day like a fiery beacon on a dark and stormy night. As she observed her, an unbidden thought had come to Wallflower’s mind.
It had been… scary. It had threatened to ruin her.
So, she had made the decision to ruin Sunset first.
“I’m thinking of ending things,” Wallflower had said.
Sunset had stared at her then. She was outwardly calm but her eyes betrayed the panic happening within her mind. She had rushed to the garden shed and brought back a blank journal.
Wallflower had waited patiently while Sunset wrote down several phrases into the book after which she shoved it into Wallflower’s hooves.
“If you feel like that again, just read these,” Sunset had told her.
So she did.
Every day for months and months. Each time some unwelcome thought had entered her mind, she would say it aloud within proximity to Sunset who would add a new phrase to the book for Wallflower to memorize.
It had worn away at Sunset, yet she had kept her vigilance.
It was not enough to ruin her.
By the time Wallflower had packed to board the Morning Glory a little under a week prior, the phrases had stuck.
And the unbidden thought that had wormed its way into her head stayed.
She had to ruin Sunset Shimmer before she could ruin Wallflower Blush.
It was inevitable, a necessary step.
But it was already too late.
Tears flowed freely from Wallflower’s eyes. Her thoughts, her true thoughts, broke through the kind words that had been a shield against them, but were now too weak with its main enforcer absent.
The hedges around her began to wilt. They browned, slowly, twisted in on itself as it began to collapse into a shrivelled heap. A ring of dead grass formed around her, expanding outwards.
As the time passed and more thoughts assailed Wallflower, the wilting increased in speed. With each sob that wracked her, another portion of the maze became a shriveled husk of what it once was. More of the grass browned and turned to dust.
Soon, only Wallflower was left, standing alone in a sea of dead plants.
As it should be for such a worthless pony.
Sunset had told her something on the train platform before she had boarded to attend this ill fated party.
It had been the worst thing Wallflower had ever heard.
The wilting spread to Wallflower. Her fur browned and fell away. Her tears dried and her breathing became harder as more of her body wasted away.
Wallflower Blush could not ruin Sunset Shimmer.
Not anymore.
For Sunset Shimmer had already won.
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First. I'll edit my comment in when I read the story!
Okay wtf OTTER
The feelings are so deep in the story, and towards the ending I could really pick up on the despair of Wallflower. I didn't realize this at first, but the orange words are showing Sunset's phrases and sentences. Holy shit this hits me in the feels so hard
Also Flash is such a lovable idiot
My role as pre-reader is less to make the story better and more to inflate Otter's ego when I praise him for writing perfection.
Wallflower's self-deprecation and self- (pan-)loathing is voiced very well here. Everything else...
Flash's introductory joke toes the line with sexual harrassment (hi, how are your proclivities!), half the time he doesn't let her set the pace, how much he knows about Wallflower (or how to handle her) seems inconsistent, and she suddenly missing his 'reassuring presence' seems at odds with her impression of him up to that point. The opening dream is actually a memory? Which version of Sunset is that, and in that rose garden where does reality stop and memory or whatever-else-that-was begin? For that matter, which Wallflower is this? There's way too little information given here to make sense of the dynamic that is trying to be the emotional nexus for this chapter and the hook for the next.
...I'm not much impressed.
Later comments deleted -- follow-ups were productive for no one.
10984815
I suppose the first question is whether or not you read the prequel which fills in some of the blanks you pointed out, but for explanation purposes, I'll assume you haven't (If you have apologies for the assumption).
The train effectively takes on passengers who are having emotional or mental troubles in their current life, puts them into a scenario where they would have time to resolve or heal from their problems, then assigns a conductor to oversee and assist. The conductor isn't all-knowing but to be fair this information is implied not stated outright.
I'll give an answer to any extra criticisms below:
So, the joke I presume you are referring to is the escort joke which fair. I don't see it as bad as that, but understand if it came off as worse. I've removed the joke and replaced it with something else that still conveys what I need to move the story along. I'm very confused by what you mean by "hi, how are your proclivities!" since I'm assuming you mean he has a tendency to sexually harass Wallflower, but he doesn't ... ?
Seems perfectly reasonable for her to miss Flash to me. She's lonely, her thoughts are turning against her, and in hindsight, she would be missing having someone near her whose sole purpose is to be helpful. Based on the flow of the sequence that doesn't feel out of place.
Also, I'm not sure why there is confusion on which version of Sunset or Wallflower is present. It's the pony versions and I'm not sure why you would assume it could be the Equestria Girls versions. Even past that point, everyone is a pony, so it shouldn't matter "which version" it is in context with the story.
Overall, I'm sorry you didn't enjoy the story. Have a good day.
10985212
I mean... It's just the first chapter. In my experience, playing all your narrative cards right off the bat means you have little to work with later. I don't seen this as a flaw in the story at all, moreso as a Chekhov's Himbo.
10987961
Um, Sunset isn't dead in this story... ?
I'll be honest your criticism is very confusing and you seem to be making assumptions based on one chapter of a sequel story whilst refusing to take the story as it is.
I would perhaps think it might be better to wait until other chapters are posted before assuming what the story is about or to go and read the prequel.
Howdy!
Y'know, you did warn me that this story would be different than the last one, so I guess I should have been prepared. But I wasn't! At all!
Your Wallflower is fantastic. She pairs great with the bumbling Flash Sentry, and she has a believable sort of despair to her. Too often I find that authors go wayyyyy way way overboard when writing a depressed character, and end up driving the whole concept straight into the ground. This, I find, is a more realistic portrayal of someone trying to heal.
The structure of this first chapter is great. I love the bookending, I love the bits of advice from Sunset's pamphlets that are sprinkled in. You've done a wonderful job of centering this character's motivations in this story - Wallflower is a pony who has suffered a long time without any proper coping mechanisms. While her whole goal revolves around getting better, she often doubts herself. I like the way you've shown her forcing herself to do the healthy thing, sometimes failing. It's just a great balanced approach with a ton of space for growth.
I'm equal parts excited and nervous for the next chapter! If this was pleasure... I can't imagine what pain will bring. Yike
great establishment of Wallflower's character, the lovable idiocy Flash in full bloom now that he is freed from being the perspective character, and the endings of the first and last sections. wow, you do know how to do a fantastic hook!