The Lone Chapter
Copyright © 2012. My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is owned by Hasbro. Cover image created using generalzoi's Pony Creator.
Version 1.0
A stereotype is a belief that may be adopted about specific types of individuals or certain ways of doing things, but that belief may or may not accurately reflect reality.
—Wikipedia. (Italics added.)
Looking at the environment I was raised in, you would think I would end up pretty well off. I was born in Canterlot, to a family of moderate income. My parents loved and cherished me like any parents should. Not to sound specist, but I was born a unicorn, which has certain advantages over the other species. There was just one thing—one big thing—that would define and shape my life. I was born with dark red fur and a black mane.
To my parents, it wasn't a big deal. After all, ponies are born with all sorts of crazy colors. Pink, blue, orange, green—you name it. But to everypony else, I was different. For some reason, they thought I was bland or unoriginal. They scrutinized me, teased me, hated me. All because of my fur.
When I was very young, I didn't cared. I played with the other foals my age who were as ignorant and blissful as I was. How I desperately miss those days. The innocence of youth shielded me from the furrowed brows, uncomfortable stares, and hateful words the adults and older foals would give me and my parents. But as my age group got older, I was forced into confronting those brows, stares, and words; which were now coming from those who I thought were my friends.
I suppose now is as good a time as any to tell you my name. It would seem rude to talk to you but not have you know who's the one talking. Open Cluster—my parents were astronomers who worked for the Royal Office of, well, Astronomy—is my name. Like my fur, it seems nice, but it would be used against me.
It all started in Magic Kindergarten, not all that surprising considering even the Princess's student is terrified of the place (or at least, that's what the rumors say). Things started normal and I even began to enjoy school but, as is the case in any school, there was a bully. Conceivable Criteria (or “Con Crit” as he insisted)—a name so ridiculous it makes “Shining Armor” seem tame by comparison—a vicious foal who tried to rise above everypony else. If he has been the only one, it wouldn't have been all that bad. Time heals all wounds, after all, but no amount of time can, if the wounds are constantly reopened.
As the weeks dragged on, more and more foals joined Con Crit in his antagonizing. “OC, OC, always will be blandsy” they would chant at me during recess. It doesn't sound all that bad now, but to a five year old foal, it was devastating. The teachers, always ignorant of the bullying, contributed in their own way. Their criticisms of my shortcomings were always brutal and stinging. Anything I would write or draw was called “uninspired” or “lacking”. Needless to say, it severely effected my grades and don't even get me started on the self esteem issues.
As I got older, eventually, the rhymes gave way to open insults. “You'll never amount to anything!” “You're bucking useless!”. The insults soon gave way to pushing and shoving. Confrontation was almost a daily thing and Con Crit was still, years after Magic Kindergarten, the leader of the bullies.
My parents were worn and tired. As I experienced the bullying, they experienced ostracization. If there's one criticism of Equestria's Capital that is wholly accurate, it's that it's a slimy elitist cesspit filled with morally bankrupt nobles who wouldn't bat an eye to one of the species going extinct if it didn't affect them. That elitism has, like a malignant cancer, spread to all walks of life in the city—save the Princesses.
Because of that, they were looked down upon and shunned by almost everypony in the Royal Office of Astronomy for having a unicorn with that fur. The only ones who didn't were the higher ups. Probably because they were too scared to, lest word reach Celestia. Dealing with a daughter who was constantly getting in trouble and the pressures of their job grew too great and they requested a transfer to Fillydelphia, which was granted.
Both me and my parents thought things would be different in Fillydelphia. After all, the city doesn't possess the same elitism that Canterlot does and it is known as the “city of brotherly love”. Things did improve for my parents but continued to deteriorate for me. The one saving grace of Canterlot was the Princess. I believed the only reason she was in that city was to prevent that cancer from spreading to the rest of the country. She acted as a check on all the city's problems. It's no wonder she wasn't able to defeat the Changelings or save the Crystal Empire, she had to spend all her time and energy preventing Canterlot from rotting the rest of Equestria. It was just one belief, of the many, that I was wrong about.
Without the Princess to serve as that vital check, the adults laid bare their harsh words and stinging rebuttals. “You're life's nothing but a train wreck.” “You're so very original, aren't you?” “You should just die so you don't drag things down.” At least that one was heard by the School Superintendent, who fired half the school staff over it for their failures.
Mercifully, school ended and I started my adult life. Problems, however, had only just begun. I needed to get a job. My cutie mark (three gold stars) symbolized the same love of the stars that my parents had. Sadly, no pony wanted somepony like me to have a job. They thought I would be “uncreative” or would somehow force my will upon the costumer or other employees. After much searching, I was finally able to get one as an apprentice to an old telescope maker. He was color blind and so, lacked the discrimination that so many others had given me.
It was like a breath of fresh air in a stale room. Somepony who didn't care about my fur and only judged me by my personality and not the personality they thought I had. Like the days of my young foalhood, those precious years as his apprentice I will cherish more then any metal or jewel. It brightened my life and made me hopeful for the future.
Then, he died. He had been old when I started so it really wasn't all that surprising, but it hit me like a train. I suffered a minor breakdown. I became desperate for the kind of social interaction that he had provided. Ponies, however, wouldn't even take the time to try to get to know me. One look at the red fur, and the black mane and they would dismiss me as not worth their time or effort.
I decided to move to Manehattan. I was hoping that, with a population that large, I would be able to blend in. Even in Manehattan, the very same problems that plagued me in Canterlot and Fillydelphia continued. I tried to be different—tried to be wild and spontaneous—in the vain hope that ponies wouldn't dismiss me for my unoriginality or blandness. This only served to further distance them from me. Now, instead of “unoriginal”, I became “unrealistic”. The one saving grace was my business. While no pony wanted to buy a product from me in person, plenty bought via the mail and my telescopes became extremely popular.
“Why,” you may ask, “didn't you simply dye your fur?” In desperation, I did that very thing. It seems like an easy solution to a difficult problem, but it was far from easy. Dyes were very expensive and a pain to apply and reapply. Grooming would become a daily chore, as I had to be careful when brushing and cleaning my fur, lest the dye wear out too quickly.
It worked. Soon, interaction with Manehattan's denizens was as easy as it was with the young foals of old. I made friends and my business became more then a simple mail order. But it was horrible. It was horrible knowing that my friends didn't like me for who I was but for what I was. That they, and the rest of the city, were just as shallow as those in Canterlot. That Princess Celestia had failed yet again, this time in preventing the cancer from spreading. Despite my social life improving, I sank into deeper depression.
I finally had enough. I stopped using the dyes and confronted my friends. Before they could react, and give me those harsh stares and hate-filled words I was so accustomed to, I left. I sold my business and, just like Canterlot and Fillydelphia before, fled Manehattan.
I decided there was only one place left for me to go: Ponyville, a small town located several miles from the nightmare on the side of Mount Crumpit that is Canterlot. I had hoped, one again, that things would be different. That a town which held the Elements of Harmony—you know, the things that require friendship and love to work—would be filled with the same love that the Elements had. Like before, I was wrong. Very, very wrong.
It's been worse then anything I have ever experienced before. The horrible, invidious stares put any looks Con Crit or the other school bullies gave me to shame. They hold hushed conversations that I can tell are directed at me. They run and hide—they hide—from me. I've quickly begun to regret my decision to leave Manehattan. My friends may have been shallow and petty; they may have judged my fur first and then my personality later like so many others, but at least they were my friends. I have started another mail order telescope business that's blossomed like the one before it.
“What about the Elements?” you ask, “Surely they've befriended you.” It is bizarre. The six mares that make up the Elements have almost no interaction with the other townsfolk. They've formed their own little niche and everypony else is secondary. It is like they are in the foreground while everypony else has been relegated to the background. Despite their seeming myopia to everypony else, they are the only ones, save a few of their friends, who don't treat me like all the others have. Who don't cringe and give me scornful looks. Miss Sparkle's my only in-person customer.
So here I am yet again. Yet again ready to pack it in, to give up, to run to another town only to find the malignant cancer already there, to see the hateful glares when I arrive. Maybe that teacher really was right. Maybe I should just die. I'm just scared of what kind of stares I'll get after I do.
The End
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Author's Notes: AKA "The Anvilicious Story". Inspired by this (1318853) comment. Was several orders of magnitude easier to write then Statistics.
>Tragedy
lolwut
Wow. The thoughts of a pony who looks like all the mary sue OCs here... I guess i shouldn't ignore a story simply because of how the OC looks...
j.wigflip.com/a/GLkfun24/roflbot.jpg
That was amazingly beautiful. Sorry, I'm all out of congratulatory gifs, but would a simple thumbs up suffice?
Wow. A pony who's red and not a Mary Sue. It's a wonder. So few stories have that any more.
About fucking time we had a story that broke the norm.
EDIT: ABOUT. FUCKING. TIME.
A red-and-black OC who is actually DEEP. UNDERSTANDABLE. The stereotype exists because so many authors fall where you've succeeded!
IT CAN BE DONE! LET THIS STORY BE PROOF THAT IT CAN BE DONE!!!
Let it be the benchmark all authors grade their stories! This was a one-shot and I felt HURT by the end! I feel bad for the reviews I've given!
I've given OC after OC a chance, and they all failed. But this, THIS took my expectations, gripped them like a fucking blood clot on the heart, tore them and showed them to me. And you know what the story shouted in my face? You know what it shouted? I'll tell you:
"THESE ARE TOO LOW. YOU UNDERESTIMATE ME."
And I was elated. Gleeful. Ecstatic. Happier than Pinkie on a partying spree.
Sir...you've done us all a grand service. You took a stereotype and showed the authors out there how it's done.
I just hope more stories take this one by example, and continue to clean the name of red-and-black...maybe it's a dream...
but it's just as possible that it may become reality.
Nice, nice. If someone is experienced enough to convey emotion like you and the few, I wouldn't be so critical about everything.
You are really misled in your message. Which is a shame because your writing is pure poetry. I'll give this the good ole Texan try tomorrow. Too sleepy right now.
^ What this guy said.
Very nice story! I enjoyed it greatly. Now a question completely irrelevant to this, but how long did it take for your story to get accepted?
Well shit...I feel kinda bad now...Bravo good sir, for making me feel.
Oh well. Wait until the next bad redxblack OC story. Then I'll get over it.
Wow, that was really good. I was expecting a parody fic of bad OC tropes but instead you have touched my heart. Well done and keep up the good work.
1335212
Don't feel bad about your reviews. You judged the character for what it was and that is that. I've read plenty of stories with good OCs. That doesn't I feel bad when I see a crummy one and point out the fact that it's crummy. In fact, it feels good to know that there are good OCs out there to balance out the bad.
That said, this has been added to my Read Later. Statistics was great stuff, so I am looking forward to reading this at some point.
1335407
It took approximately 25 hours and 15 minutes from submission to posting.
Alright. Thank you! My story has been taking forever, and my brother said that his took only about an hour. I just wanted to make sure it wasn't just mine.
China pony.
I'm metaphorical cancer!
COOL! 
1335139 saw the pic u posted and died for aprox. 10 minutes
Poor Open Cluster. She'd probably find a sympathetic ear in Twilight if she dared to share her story. Or Pinkie, who you'd think would've involved herself at least a little.
In any case, a great piece of metafiction. Don't judge a pony by her colors.
in many ways, this story mirrors our world.
it's... everywhere.
This whole red and back OC stereotype thing is kind of funny. I have seen plenty of bad OCs, but they are almost never that particular color scheme. About the only place I ever see red and black OCs are in some parody/crack fics making fun of cliche and stereotypes.
1335139
Yeah, it's the mane that counts. dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_Sweetie_happy.png
That is all. So much
An excellent breakdown of stereotypes. I really wanted to reach through the screen and give a hug.
I'm going to point out a few errors here. There aren't many, so I can include some of the more nitpicky ones as well as the big ones.
Their ability to interbreed indicates that unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies are not separate species. They are races or, at the most, subspecies. Therefore, "racist" would be more accurate.
"Effect" should be "affect", "him" should be "them", and "its" should be "it's".
"Choir" should be "chore". Unless, of course, she was singing in a group as she did it, but that seems unlikely.
This should be one sentence with a colon between "go" and "Ponyville".
It should be "in-person".
well, at least you tried to use an interesting idea, but the execution was a bit overdone. It was trying to get to that point where it makes the readers feel what you're trying to convey, but then it went beyond that into more of a parody than tragedy. There were so many points where I just stared at the screen wondering if you really wanted me to buy what you wrote
1468604
Hence the "Anvilicious Story" nickname. It is really overdone, to the point where it's almost impossible to believe that the ponies of utopian Equestria could be such raving racists/specists. That's kind of the point though. As it's a metafic, the other ponies are reacting the way most readers do when they see a "read and black OC".
sequel please :D
i2.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/original/000/314/111/977.gif
1469165
then I think tagging it as a parody/comedy would work better than trying to pass it as Tragedy
because it seems you failed, the intent seems to be lost by how many people are going "Oh my feels"
actually, check Twilight Sparkle: History's greatest monster to see how to successful do what you attempted to do. It would help to rewrite it in the future
1470453
On the contrary, the intent was for it to be [Tragedy], cranked up to an unrealistic eleven, but [Tragedy] none the less.
1470476
that's called parody, not tragedy. As mentioned already, it fails to convey a sense of tragedy when people have to force themselves to suspend their disbelief to allow your ideas to have any hold
the way other people are calling this fic is that you got mad that somebody didn't like your OC. That's the other way people see this idea developed
1470502
It's actually really funny you mentioned the "me being mad" thing because I thought the same exact thing when I wrote it. It's not true, of course, neither Statistics nor Ascend have any OC's in them (well, Ascend will eventually) and I actually really don't like OC's in MLP fanfics (especially when they get into relationships with canon characters).
A parody is meant to make fun of something. This isn't (of course, you might still find it funny). Based on a quick glancing at Wikipedia, Satire might be a better word for it, but I'm not a literary expert.
Black and red OCs don't get any love?
img.photobucket.com/albums/v430/admiraltigerclaw/Story%20Illustrations/dainty_dish_oc___request_by_larsurus-d594xtm.png
Dainty Dish knows that feeling, but got over it. Way over it. Being indirectly endorsed by Lockheed Martin helps with that.
As I said on Spacebattles, it is really easy to imagine the ponies acting like they do in this fic (I can't really imagine a situation where a bias against black and red ponies would develop, but logic rarely enters into bigotry), and it does make the reader feel a good amount of emotion. However, it suffers from a lot of "show, don't tell." The fic would have been a whole lot better had we gone through Open Cluster's life with her instead of just having it be summarized for us. Now, there have been some fics that have managed to make that style work (for instance, All-American Girl's first chapter is comprised mostly of an interview between a newswoman and a pony OC), but the thing that they usually have going for them is length and detail, this fic does not have that.
If what you're really going for is an uber-tragedy then what you should do is write take this chapter and rewrite it as a bunch of chapters. Start from Open Cluster's youngest years and move on through to Ponyville, telling each excruciatingly painful moment for her in great detail. That way the tragedy is all the greater because we've grown attached to her through all the time we've spent with her, just like Sailor Nothing!
Huh? Red and black?.. What's the problem with red and black? Is it like the "stereotype alicorn god-being" problem?
1498770
Most bad OC's are of a weird color combination (usually darker colors like gray, black, dark blue, etc.) that contrast too much with the bright, cheerful colors of the canon ponies. Red and black is one of the most common. Hence its use.
1498914
So in a world filled to the brim of pink Neon ponies it's the ones who would probably look the most natural in the real world that get the bad rap.... Funny
Well that was sad.
I feel like this could have been longer, and much more detailed.
1335212
your comment freaks me out, i dont know why bt it makes me think your having a soap opera with your heart and you rip your heart out
1592305
I do it for fun.
1498914 Crap, now I'm really paranoid about my first OC being gray. Good story.
This was funny in a poke-at-the-fandom kidna way, but i also felt for the character at the same time.
This was hysterical.
The fact that you used a ponycreator for the cover was the icing on the cake.
1470168 YES. SO MANY.
Whyyyyy.
okay, get back in here and write chapter 2.
They thought I would be “uncreative” or would somehow force my will upon the costumer
-customer
Some small typos:
affected
Your
than
than
than
Okay, I get it now. This story was a poke at the "Everypony is racist and evil!" trend that has been plaguing fimfiction.net.
The equivalent of finding yourself in a crowded elevator with sweaty unwashed people, and showing your opinion by letting loose with a great, thunderous fart.