Parties are Forever
III
Parties are Forever
- - -
Outside Sugarcube Corner
Ponyville, Equestria
1858 Hours
The still-fresh scar on Red Ink's chest itched relentlessly. His hoof ground down in the dirt road, as he restrained himself from the pleasure of scratching it. To do so would be a weakness he utterly refused to acknowledge in the presence of such weak ponies. The toned muscles of his shoulders flexed and surged, pulling the front of his signature black coat open. All around, the world seemed to fix on his determined expression. The three mares running a floral booth nearby stared, until the youngest swooned and collapsed. For Red Ink, it was a good night.
"Now, Red, there's sort of a way that Pinkie Pie's parties tend to go…" Twilight Sparkle, who had utterly failed to swoon (or even notice) observed to her guest.
"Please, Sparkle. Do not beat around bush with me. Go straight to bull. Grab by horns."
Twilight cocked her head. "That… may be the single most mixed metaphor I have ever heard."
Ink looked to be confused by the statement. "Is… 'met-uh-four' a type of drink? Or food?" At Twilight's muffled snickering, he groaned and continued to pace toward the nearby bakery. "It is something my father is used to say. Sounds better in cleaner tongue."
Rather than enter into a debate on the respective merits of linguistics in Stalliongradi and Equiish, Twilight forced her wayward mind back to her original topic. "Uh, before you go in there, I just want to ask you: what are you expecting?"
Red Ink could have responded with another question, wondering as to the purpose of her inquiry. He could have ignored the query entirely. In point of fact, he could even have lit himself on fire and gone on a murderous rampage through the streets of Ponyville, ridding himself of his ridiculous assignment and the unbearable company all at once. However, at that moment, the stallion did none of those things. Instead, he chose to exercise control, and to answer the question calmly.
"I am expecting party. Drinks. Beautiful mares. Dancing. Late night. Early morning. Good times."
Twilight smiled just a little bit at the humorous bluntness of her companion. She saw that he was at least being sociable, a trait she had been poorly lacking in at her first party. She decided to tease him, just a bit. "So you're here for mares? Haven't you already met some?"
Ink watched as Twilight twisted her mane, looking for all the world like the biggest dork who had ever lived. His vastly drier sense of humor responded with a teasing statement of far greater magnitude. "Pinkie Pie's mane is not… how do you say? 'Doing it' for me? Blue pegasus was fast, but might be too small." With every word out of his mouth, Twilight's smile shrunk. It was a struggle for Ink to keep from breaking into laughter. "Apple pony has excellent hips, though voice and fruit are both disgust me. And, since clearly you are suggesting yourself, let me be saying this." Red Ink rapped bluntly on Twilight's skull twice with his right forehoof. Despite the simplicity of the motion, it was quite painful for the mare. "Princess is choosing you as student for what is up here. Not down here." Twilight yelped incredibly forcefully when Ink swatted her cutie mark with the same hoof.
As Red Ink swaggered away with an air of overwhelming confidence, he had no idea the chaos that remained in his wake. The ponies of the small town would be talking about his action for days, if not weeks. For Twilight's part, the only thing that saved the stallion from being transformed into some humiliating form then and there was that her fury at his words and actions had completely overcome her ability to think straight. By the time she regained consciousness that she was standing in the street on the way to a party, her 'guest' had already made his way inside Sugarcube Corner.
Unlike his previous introduction to Pinkie Pie, Red Ink managed to resist the urge to pick the mare up by the throat and pin her to the floor. When she tackled him with a hug, his response was to remain perfectly still.
"Inky! You made it!"
"Inky?"
"Well, everypony needs a nickname!" Pinkie Pie moved to take Ink's coat. He slapped her hooves away suddenly, with a vicious glare in his eyes. She didn't seem to mind much, instead giving up the motion entirely and turning toward the crowd of random ponies. "Everypony, this is Red Ink. He's new in town, so say hi!” There followed a lot of waving and muttered greetings, all of which the Stalliongradian stallion ignored in favor of pursuing a beverage.
His eyes met three bowls. Some fruity pink garbage filled the first, while the second held sarsaparilla, and the third cider. He sniffed it hopefully, only to find his expectations shattered by the utter lack of alcohol. As he poured himself a glass of the sarsaparilla, he resolved to accept the challenge. He imagined he could party dry. His imagination was tragically and yet almost comically unprepared for what the night held in store.
"Silly, this is your welcome party!" Pinkie Pie yelled into his ear, causing no small portion of his drink to spill on the floor. "You're supposed to say 'hi' back. Come on, I'll introduce you to everypony."
Red Ink did not like being snuck up on, and he also did not like the pink mare, but he resolved to endure both in the interest of avoiding a conflict. Her hoof slid over his shoulders, and she guided him towards a cluster of ponies. Gray, green, tan, blue, and enough other shades that Ink rapidly came to miss the naturally duller coats of his home city. His own blood red would stand out like a sore hoof amidst all the shininess.
"This is Derpy, our mailmare," Pinkie introduced a smiling gray mare. "That's Lyra and Bon-Bon. There's Colgate, and Dazzler, and…" The list dragged on and on, as Red Ink nodded until his normally balanced mind lost track of 'up' and 'down'. His eyes caught Twilight Sparkle walking into the room, looking for all the world like she was about to spontaneously combust. Then Ink remembered she was a unicorn, and could not possibly perform such magic. Nevertheless, ever the capable warrior, he knew better than to remain somewhere that the mare might pull him aside and introduce him to the business end of her horn.
"…and then Mayor took off her cravat, and we realized it just a funny piece of lettuce. I mean, can you believe that? Who'd wear a vegetable as a accessory?"
"Perhaps you are needing new mayor," Ink commented off-hoofedly, having missed the entire story. "I am very good at revolution."
"Me too!" Pinkie explained, before beginning to rapidly spin in place. Ink missed the joke entirely, as his knowledge of Equiish was too limited to comprehend the synonym she was playing upon. Nevertheless, Pinkie's turn at petty pun-craft offered the stallion a chance to escape her presence, and find a comfortably shadowed corner in which to lurk.
As the guest of honor, it did not take long for the value of the darkness to wear off. Happily chatting ponies just so happened to idle their way toward the stallion, who was rapidly beginning to realize the value that one might place on Discord's perception of friendship. Unable to snap his non-existent fingers as a means of escape, and unable to snap necks under penalty of his own death, he instead turned to the most attractive of the approaching ponies, wearing a completely disingenuous smile. "What is your name, ma'am?"
The white mare with the purple mane covered her slight smile with a hoof. "Rarity, dear. While I do appreciate your kindness, there's no need for 'ma'am'. I'm certainly not a guardspony, and you'll make me feel like an old mare if you keep that up. Do I detect a Stalliongradi accent?"
Red Ink's right eye twitched, rather violently. "I am from...” He paused to consider his phrasing, and the difficulty of translating properly. “...from Stalliongrad, Rarity." Despite the premeditated statement, his face resisted the butchery of the city’s name with involuntary spasms that momentarily made the mare question his sanity.
Fortunately, like all good social mares, she hid the concern behind a compliment. "Oh, that accent is so exotic." Rarity took a small sip of her beverage, and in her moment of silence, Red Ink pondered his next move. His thoughts weren't given enough time, as Rarity's diminutive, ladylike sip ended quickly. "Tell me, Mr. Ink, what do you do for a living?"
"Я убиваю пони," he answered on instinct. Almost immediately, blood rushed to his face as he realized his mistake. Fortunately, the natural tone of his coat covered his concerned blush.
Rarity cocked her head in confusion. "You… do something to ponies? I'm afraid I don't know what 'ubeevayu' means. I've only been to Stalliongrad once."
"Teach," Red Ink lied, before going on the offensive to hide his falsehood. "I teach ponies. Both stallions and mares."
Rather than taking the hint about her continued mispronunciation, Rarity chuckled. "I'll forgive your misunderstanding, but in Equiish, such a phrase could be viewed as quite forward. On the other hand, seeing as you are a teacher, it isn't hard to understand what you see in our librarian."
"I am not understanding… Sparkle?" Ink's brows formed a tilde, as one dropped into a glare and the other rose in surprise. "You are thinking I am with Sparkle?"
"Oh, perhaps I let slip more than I meant to," Rarity muttered as her eyes wandered away from the stallion. "But I certainly didn't hear such a rumor from a certain trio of florists just a few moments ago. Regardless, I'm sure such a thing will run its course quickly. That is, after all, simply in the nature of a small town like Ponyville. Or would that be 'po'nyjvil'?"
Ink twitched at her forced accent, but then realized the joke and broke into a healthy, entirely non-megalomaniacal, bloodthirst free laugh. No one would ever accuse him of turning every head in the bakery, after all. By the time his laughter had abated, Rarity had turned a full ninety-degrees to the side, and focused her attention very pointedly toward some yellow pony in the distance, as if to make it clear that she was in no way associated with the stallion's exclamation.
"That is being very good one," Ink noted with a smile, once the noise had finally died down. "I am liking you, Rarity." The pegasus didn't notice the soul-scorching daggers glared at him by a baby dragon across the room. He did observe Rarity's focus, and turned his head toward what was suddenly a very empty wall. "You are looking for pony?"
"Huh? Oh, I'm sorry, darling, but I'm afraid you may have frightened off my dear friend Fluttershy."
The name pulled a cord from earlier that morning in Ink's mind. "Fluttershy… Apple pony is telling me of her. She is one who lives alone, near dangerous forest?"
"Oh, yes. I rather think she enjoys the privacy. She's magnificent at handling animals. Perhaps I shall go… check on her?" Without waiting for an answer, the unicorn mare hurried away at a rapid, but still socially acceptable pace.
Red barely noticed, as engrossed as his mind was with the sole glimmer of hope he had just been presented. He compiled what he knew of this 'Fluttershy,' and a smile worked its way onto his face. She was quiet, and hard to find, as demonstrated by her ability to disappear within the crowd from right in front of Rarity's eyes. Further, she survived on her own while living on the border of perhaps the most dangerous piece of land in all of Equestria. If Rarity's words had any truth at all, she regularly demonstrated the capability to 'handle' the creatures in the forest, and she did so with ease. His foremost desire in that moment was to meet her, and so determined, he set off into the crowd.
His path didn't continue long from his dark corner, however, before he was faced with an uncomfortably smiling Twilight Sparkle. "Oh, hello, Mr. Ink. I've been looking for you everywhere."
"Yes, well, Sparkle, I am–"
"Just Twilight is fine, Red. After all, if we're such good friends that you can go around slapping my flank, we really don’t need to be so awkward. Right?"
Genuinely unnerved, Ink took a step back. He could see the hairs of her mane rising up and springing out of their own accord, reacting to the potent magic from her horn, which was quickly growing palpable in the air. "It was just joke, Sparkle. No offense meant."
"No offense? No offense? Do you realize what all the ponies here have been saying about me? About us?"
Ink was lost for words. For the first time ever, he was grateful when Pinkie Pie and Apple… pony wandered over toward them. The latter's signature hat was tilted sideways, and her mane was a bit of a mess. "Well, Twi, ah'll be. You two really are hittin' it off?"
Twilight groaned as her eyes danced wildly in their sockets, though Pinkie beat her to the next words. "I think they make a cute couple, Applejack. A teacher and a librarian? That's, like, a perfect excuse for a book party! Oh, and just think of the–"
Ink put a hoof on Pinkie's mouth. He honestly held back no force, and so was surprised that the outright punch didn't stagger her in the least. Her muzzle felt like jelly beneath his hoof. "We are not pair, Pink-ee Pie."
Twilight sighed. "Thank you, Ink."
A disappointed "Mmmph," issued from behind Ink's hoof, at which point he lowered the appendage. Pinkie shook her head. "Well, I'm sure you'll find somepony someday, Inky. For now, why not just enjoy the party. I've gotta go refill the punch."
Ink cocked his head. "Punch? That is name of drink? Perhaps she is mixing me 'roundhouse buck' too." The comment earned a chuckle from Applejack, though Twilight didn't seem to see the humor in it.
"That's a good 'un, Red. But I didn't know you were a teacher, what with you showin' up lookin' for farm work yesterday 'n all. You fillin' in for Ms. Cheerilee?" Ink nodded, at which point Applejack cracked a rather large smile. "Well, ah'll be. Maybe you can get some math into mah sis' Applebloom's head."
"I am trying," Ink answered.
Twilight shook her head. "No, Red, it's 'I will try.' I still don't think it's a good idea for you to be teaching school-foals when you still have so much trouble with speaking proper Equiish."
Ink's response came in a twisted, stilted cadence, as he struggled to match Twilight's tone. "And I don't think it's a good idea you to be spend-ing so much time with me after everypony is thinking you and I are… what is Equiish term? Sleep together? Rut? Bu–mmph?"
Twilight's horn lost its glow as Red Ink struggled with the zipper that had appeared on his lips. The unicorn had no shortage of indignation. "I can't believe you! When the Princess said you had trouble making friends, I assumed you'd be shy, or awkward, but not… this!" Her hooves gestured to make perfectly clear that the 'this' in question was the entirely of the black-coated stallion. "Also, watch your language! There are fillies and colts here, just like the ones at the school you shouldn't be teaching at."
"Uh, Twi'," Applejack interrupted, rather sheepishly. "Not that ya ain't right, but the Crusader's 're havin' a sleepover in their clubhouse, 'n we got our new farmhoof, Resistant, ta keep an eye on 'em while she's out finishin' a few old trees. That's actually how come Mac made it. I ain't seen any other foals, neither." Clearly, the explanation did little to help Twilight's point, as indicated by the all but literal fire connecting her eyes to Applejack's. The farm mare backed up two steps and lowered her head. "Ackshully, you know how Mac is… I oughta go… check on him or somesuch…" The muttered excuse faltered with each cluster of thought before at last, it was abandoned completely. Applejack turned her back and darted away.
In her absence, Red Ink found himself once more enduring the displeasure of Twilight's ire bearing down. "I don't appreciate you touching my flank, or my horn. And I really don't appreciate all the comments I'm getting." Her words were followed by the grinding of her teeth, and through them, she continued. "So here's a friendship lesson for you: mares don't like tasteless, feminizing jerks! I don't care how, but I want you to stop all these stupid rumors. Until then, you should probably find somewhere else to sleep, because you aren't sharing a roof with me." She started to walk away as Ink finally managed to undo the zipper on his lips, only to dig himself a deeper hole.
"What is big deal?" Ink asked jovially. "Joke was funny to everypony else, clearly. Besides, most Stol'nogradskiye mares are killing to 'share roof with me'."
She whirled to look him in the eyes. He saw fire in hers. "Then go home! I know I am!" In a muffled pop of magic, the mare was gone.
Across the room, a group of close-knit friends absorbed the entire scene. Applejack leaned over to Rarity's ear. "He looks like a puppy that ya beat on the nose, who don't know what he's done wrong."
"I can't imagine any stallion could be that clueless. Surely he has to know."
The young dragon at Rarity's side found the ensuing silence an ample opportunity to voice his curiosity. "So, does this mean Twilight and Mr. Ink are breaking up?"
- - -
2320 Hours
"So then I am saying to him 'Serp, buy this pony drink.' But Serp is deaf in one ear, so he takes drink, and break her front knees instead." Red Ink laughed alone, as the ponies around him drifted away. His consumption of nearly half the bowl of punch (which in his opinion, could have used a bit more 'kick') fueled his lack of self-control. Much like the horrible facial burns of a down-on-his-luck counterfeiter, however, Ink's drunkenness was merely a symptom of a simpler condition. Rather than a face-first dunk in a vat of molten bits, however, the warrior's concern was for how quickly his attempts at earning some quick friends had failed.
Soon, only Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash and Rarity remained in the presence of the inebriated stallion. Their motives were a mixture of pity, disgust, and obligation. As one, they cringed when he looked their way.
"Mares! Excellent! Coming here, coming here!" He gestured in what could vaguely be construed as their direction. Pinkie was the first to move.
"Uh, Inky, I think you're scaring away the party. You've had too much to drink. Why don't we just play a game, and have some fun, rather than–"
"Pshah." Rarity and Rainbow glanced toward each other, astounded at his ability to slur something which wasn't even a word–especially given how decidedly unslurred his broken Equiish was. "We are having fun. Just be looking at..."
Realization dawned like... well, rather like this simile: awkwardly. The main room of Sugarcube Corner was completely deserted, save the four ponies who had gathered around the mostly empty punch bowl. After a moment of processing the thought, the stallion's eyelid began to twitch rather erratically. A few gulps were issued when Ink turned back to the table, though he did nothing so drastic as they were expecting. Instead, four glasses of the remaining punch were poured, and three were set onto the floor in the direction of their intended recipients.
Rainbow Dash swatted one away with the tip of her wing, spilling the liquid across the ground. "Look, guardspony, we don't want your booze, or your attention. Just get out of Ponyville, and go back to the Princess, or whatever you're supposed to be doing!"
Pinkie shot Rainbow a confused glance. "Wait, isn't Inky a teacher?"
"Stop calling me that," Ink snapped. "And what I am is not important. I would like very much for not to be in stupid, backwater village, wasting time with 'friends'. But options are few." Ink turned to stalk away, only to be caught with a hoof over his shoulder. He turned back in time to receive a cyan hoof between the eyes.
"Don't you dare talk about Ponyville that way!" Rainbow yelled. The words were mostly lost as Ink staggered, and fell backwards onto the table of leftover snacks and drinks. The punch bowl shattered under his sudden weight, and the table itself cracked in half. Glass shards, juice, and splinters decorated a thoroughly furious stallion, who struggled in vain to find his hooves. He was bleeding from the shards of glass that cut through his coat, though the wounds didn't seem to bother him as much as the tears of his black jacket. The woolen garment was shredded into tattered ribbons and frayed ends. Simple glass shouldn't have done so much damage, it seemed, and yet the evidence was plain and clear. Without a word, he rose to his hooves and spread his wings. It took only a moment for a spark to ignite on his wingtips, and then rich orange tongues of flame engulfed his alcohol-soaked body.
Rainbow, in response, dropped low and flared her own wings. Her right hind leg scratched against the inside of its partner's fur, producing little sparks of electricity that threatened an unimaginable quantity of damage. Their eyes met, judging one another, each found the other wanting. There might very well have been another fire and more deaths on Ink's record, were it not for a white hoof wrapping itself around Rainbow Dash's chest.
"Rainbow, please control yourself." Rarity shook her head as she watched the door.
"You heard what he said!" the young mare responded.
The seamstress turned to offer a disappointed glare in Red Ink's direction. Nevertheless, her words were clearly meant for the stunt flyer. "Yes, I did. And you responded with violence. I can't imagine allowing you to continue would serve us any better than your hooves did against Discord, or the Changelings, or any of the other times you've tried to solve our problems with force. Pinkie, hand me that last glass of spiked punch, and then take Rainbow outside to cool down."
Pinkie slid the still-intact plastic cup over, and watched in surprise as it was downed in a single gulp. "You really want his drink?"
Rarity smiled a sad smile as she watched the flames fade from the Stalliongradian stallion's body. "Mr. Ink has unfortunately been separated from his temporary residence, and I have no intention of leaving him to roam the night alone. As such, I'm afraid I may be about to do something very generous." The way Rarity proceeded to roll her neck was not only unladylike, but also quite intimidating for the cracking noises it produced. Afterwards, as if by rote force, she readjusted her mane. "Now, you should be going." Pinkie's normally carefree expression indicated no small degree of concern, though Rarity simply held her forced expression. "Trust me."
It didn't take long for the pair to leave, when all was said and done. Rarity waited until the door out of Sugarcube Corner had shut completely before turning back on a scene of carnage and tragedy.
The green floorboards were covered in a mixture of splinters, wet confetti, and the aftereffects of spilt drinks. The colors clashed horribly, sending spasms across the edges of Rarity's vision. She knew she needed to do something, though she didn't have the time to actually clean. Her solution was to lift one of the green throw rugs from the slightly darker green floor, and sweep the disgusting mixture underneath it. While the rug was now bumpy and wet, the mess was at least out of sight. It might even have looked passable, given a bit of lace and give or take twelve-thousand amethysts.
Regardless of the interior design tragedy, her attention next turned to the subject of no small amount of her ire. Red Ink cradled his slashed and bloodied coat in his arms, as a father might a dying child. Chunks of ash burnt away by his fire crumbled off of the slits where his wings stuck out. Alongside those burns, patches of cloth and loose threads were ripped all across the garment. What was left of the body was a segment of thick black wool that seemed too small to even properly garb a newborn filly. Only the similarly black faux-fur collar remained untouched.
"Mr. Ink? Are you alright?"
He recognized the false accent on the unicorn's lips. "Go away," Ink answered. As if to spite him, Rarity wandered over to his side, close enough that their coats brushed together.
He drew away slightly, and she glanced back at the spot where their sides met. Unlike his own blood-toned coat, the stains of his vital liquid were clear on her pure white body. The sheer quantity of blood from their small contact stole her breath. "Goodness, are you hurt?"
"I survive." The stallion did not look up from his jacket, even as the viscous red river that spilled from his body began to pool on the floor. "Fire closes wounds."
"Oh..." Rarity wasn't quite sure what to say next, but she forced herself to speak up for the sake of her friends if nothing else. "Well, I can't simply leave you sitting here alone with this mess, can I?"
"You should." The words were blunt, harsh, and factual. "Go. I am taking care of myself."
"Absolutely not!" She indicated about the room with a hoof. "If you want to wallow in a puddle of your own misery, I suppose that is within your right, but you've done enough damage to Sugarcube Corner for one night. You're going to come with me this instant, and perhaps when you've had the time to sober up, you'll be prepared to accept responsibility for this."
He didn't actually say anything to acknowledge the demand, though he did at least rise to his hooves. Rarity moved for the door, only to find herself waiting as he reverently stowed the remnants of his destroyed jacket atop his wings.
Rarity stared at the garment, and her mind immediately analyzed its value. Dyed wool with a thin lining of burlap, a bit of false fur, a distastefully long cut, poor shoulder stitching–she wouldn't have paid three bits for the thing. However, the fashionista knew very well that clothing often bore some deeper meaning than its mere appearance and function. She could see the pain in his eyes, even if he thought he was good at hiding it.
The stallion that paced over to the door was clearly not the same one who had earlier been hitting on every mare in sight, telling cruel stories in broken Equiish and reveling in his own glories. With an almost broken gait, he paced to the door. It was the first time that Rarity realized just how short the stallion really was. Not only was he small for a stallion, but the designer's analytic eye realized that she was the taller of the two. Perhaps that curious trait explained at least a bit of his behavior, even if it did nothing to excuse it.
He pushed past her into the street, spreading even more blood, spilt punch, and other miscellaneous grime across her coat. It didn't take much effort to imagine him tromping down an alleyway and curling down to sleep. She donned the same face that often accompanied a scolding for her younger sister and spoke up firmly. "Frankly, Mr. Ink, I'm disappointed in you. Whatever reason you have to dislike our town and its inhabitants is no excuse for heavy drinking and perverse behavior. However, I would like to believe that I understand your circumstances, and I would also like to believe that you're a better stallion than this. So tonight, I am going to invite you into my home, and I shall also repair your jacket without charge. In exchange, I expect better behavior and honesty from you. Do you find this agreeable?"
He looked at her with an expression that somehow managed to border on rage and self-pity all at once. The former of the sensations fell away quickly, though the latter did not. "Very... kind."
Rarity had to stop herself from correcting him by muttering 'generous', and instead smiled. The expression quickly faded when his words continued.
"But I am not needing pity."
The unicorn huffed, face donning a slight red tone. "Well, that's excellent, Mr. Ink, because I'm not offering you any. You've earned everything that happened to you tonight. I'm not doing this because I feel sorry for you; I'm doing it because even with how much of an ass you have made of yourself, I feel compelled to keep you from sleeping on the streets tonight. Now, are you coming with me or not?"
Ink's shoulders rose and fell in a single deep breath. Then he nodded.
"Excellent," she forced through a clenched even jaw line. "I imagine the night has been stressful enough for both of us. Why don't you follow me?"
They trudged through the summer dark together in silence.
- - -
August 30th, 1452 A.S.
Carousel Boutique
Ponyville, Equestria
0021 Hours
Whether it was from the loss of his sheer adrenaline or simply an effect of further time to digest, Red Ink had to finish his journey leaning on the taller mare. Rarity momentarily considered dropping the pegasus on her fainting couch, but a glance at her own side caused her to set him on the floor beside the door instead. She knew that even if there was a certainly regal quality to the tone of his coat, she had no desire to stain it into her most precious piece of furniture.
"Now, Mr. Ink, I shall go draw a bath for you. Once you are cleaned up, we can see you to bed, and in the morning, perhaps we'll go about setting things right for you." Rarity turned toward the stairs.
"No."
The mare rounded with a twitch in her eye. "Excuse me?"
"No," Ink answered. There seemed to be more he intended to say, but those words were instead stolen away, to be used as pavement for the road to Tartarus.
"Excuse me?"
"Oh, I see. You are..." He paused as his eyes momentarily lost focus. "...not just mishearing me. Good. Jacket first."
Her mouth opened, and then shut. "Frankly, Mr. Ink, it's..." She took a moment to glance toward the room's sole clock. "...past midnight. While I'm no stranger to late hours, I have no intention of starting work on such a project right now."
Despite the lack of focus in his eyes, he managed a respectable glare. It might have frightened a rabbit, though it did very little to Rarity. She answered with a far fiercer glare of her own.
"If I may ask, why is such a... well, frankly, such a cheap garment so important to you?"
He stood up, took a step forward, and very nearly lost his footing. "Not important. Fix it."
Rarity groaned in exasperation. "Even if I wanted to do it now, I lack the proper materials. I'll have to go out to the east hills with Spike and dig up some nice dark rubies and opals–"
"No."
"I'm getting quite tired of hearing that word from you, Mr. Ink."
"No gems. No frills. Just fixed." The ex-guardspony wandered shakily over to a mannequin and tossed the remnants of his garment over its body. Then, with barely audible clarity, he uttered a word which gave Rarity a little start of surprise simply by its sheer desperation. "Please."
Suppressing a yawn, the mare wandered down to once more stand by Red Ink's side. Her eyes narrowed toward the subtle details of the garment, though it did not hold much of her attention. She spoke softly to him, hoping to coax forth a softer side in the stallion. "This jacket seems important to you, Mr. Ink. Care to tell me about it?"
He shook his head, and she sighed gently. "I would like to know why I should put urgency into this project. You and I both know that this will still be here in the morning."
Red Ink looked away, and his normally harsh voice lost a great deal of volume, though little of its buried pain. "My brother bought it for me, day he died."
"I'm sorry. Was he ill, or–"
"Not so pleasant. Frostbite hired assassin; same one from... incident. She killed him. I could not stop her."
Rarity recoiled. "I... forgive me for bringing it up."
"I am not caring." The stallion twisted his neck back and forth, eliciting a pair of almost terrifying cracks. "It is truth, and not changing now. But I am rather not to talk about it." He sucked in a breath, and let it out through his lips in a strange, twisted nickering. "I should not be telling you this. Perhaps it is drink in my head. But I am not nice pony. Not even as Sparkle thinks. Rainbow Dash is right. I am guardspony."
Almost immediately upon delivering the words, Ink collapsed to the side. Rarity managed to catch the burly stallion, and he offered her a meaningless smile by way of gratitude. It still proved better than nothing, and so she accepted it without comment. "I am tempted to believe the drink has gone to your head, Mr. Ink."
"Please. Tomorrow, when I am sober, you are calling me Mr. Ink. Tonight, Roscherk is being fine, while I am too stupid to not pretend we are already friends."
"Row-shirk?"
"It is real name. Roscherk Krovyu. Now, I am thinking bed is perhaps good idea. You are having spare room?"
Rarity sighed gently and nodded. "I suppose I do, yes, though it may be a bit frilly for your usual taste. I keep it for my sister, Sweetie Belle..."
- - -
"Maybe she's lost her true love, and came to Ponyville to start a new life," the marshmallowy unicorn filly proposed in a whisper as she adjusted her red cape. "That would be so romantic."
"Blegh." Her orange friend feigned gagging herself on a hoof. "That's not just boring, it's sappy too. I still say she's a spy."
The third member of the little group rolled her eyes. "She's just the new farm hoof. Yer both bein' thick."
Whether through callous disregard or actual ignorance that words had been spoken, Sweetie Belle continued her conversation with Scootaloo. "Don't you think she's a little big for that? I mean, where would she hide?"
"Uh, y'all there?"
"She doesn't have to," Scootaloo observed. "That's what's so smart about it. Nopony would ever think she's a spy. She even fooled you!"
"Tha's ridiculous, Scootaloo. Ain't it, Sweetie Belle?" Her unicorn friend clearly did not share her assessment.
"Wow... I never would have thought of that."
"Oh, fer real? Look, we can just go ask her. She'll tell you she's jus' here fer work, you'll see."
"Well, duh. That's exactly what a spy would say." Scootaloo flared her tiny wings to emphasize the point. "But how do you think she lost her ear, if she's just a farmpony?"
"Well, maybe she was usin' an axe 'r a scythe–"
Scootaloo was having none of it. "And how come she's so huge? I mean, she's like as big as your brother."
"It's probably cause she works as a farmer. Ya know, as a farmpony."
Sweetie Belle piped up at this point. "But your sister does that too, and she isn't that big."
"Oh, come on, Sweetie Belle. Don' tell me yer' buyin' this too?"
"I don't really think she's a spy," the unicorn answered hesitantly. "But it does seem like she isn't just a farmpony. Like, how come she doesn't come into town? I didn't even know you'd hired somepony until today."
Applebloom groaned. "Okay, that's enough. Y'all aren't just bein' thick; this is ridiculous. I'm gonna go show ya that she's just a normal pony."
Scootaloo darted in front of the door to the clubhouse as she called out. "Whoa! You can't just go out there! If you wanna figure out about her, we have to do it sneaky."
"That's stupid, Scootaloo. I ain't afraid o' her." Without further word, Applebloom pushed Scootaloo out of the way and marched out of the clubhouse. Her friends spared one another a brief glance before running after her.
Outside, Sweet Apple Acres was filled with the sounds of wood groaning and creaking. Scootaloo spared a moment to catch her breath beside Applebloom before looking her in the eye. "What is she doing?"
"Well, sis' said there's this old tree that ain't got enough water or sumthin', so it isn't given enough apples. Resistant's gotta take it down, so Mac can plant a saplin' there in time fer next year's Applebuck Season."
"But this season isn't even here yet, right?" Sweetie Belle asked.
"It takes awhile fer a tree to grow," Applebloom responded noncommittally. "Anyway, the sooner we talk ta Resistant, the sooner we can get on ta findin' our Cutie Marks."
It wasn't long after that three heads peeked synchronously out from behind the trunk of an apple tree to observe the subject of their scrutiny. The first fact that came to mind was how Resistant had a very curious method of taking down the tree. She had chosen not to simply press against the tree with her hind legs in a long drawn out buck, as Applejack or Big Macintosh would have. Instead, the mare's strategy was to rise up on her hind legs and attack the tree as if they were rival wrestlers from Scootaloo's comic books. Her eggshell mane rippled in the air as her hoof swung around wildly, and the collision tore a huge chunk of the tree aside. The wounds of many more such blows could be seen scattered around the mare's hind hooves, in the form of sawdust and splinters on the grassy ground.
Resistant was not done, however. Using her other foreleg as a pivot, she lifted her entire body into the air and wrapped her hind legs around the 'neck' of the tree's trunk much like a wrestler might. Entirely unlike a wrestler, however, the motion ended with twelve feet of the tree's 'severed head' flying a good twelve yards into the distance of the orchard, where the huge segment of the tree was swallowed by shadows and night.
"Whoa," Scootaloo observed, unable to find better words.
"Shaddup!" Applebloom hissed. The damage, however, was done.
Resistant turned around to face the three fillies peeking out from behind the tree. Despite her rather masculine body form, and the sheer enormity of her physique, there was a certain grace to her motion. Her subtle green eyes sparked in the moonlight as she approached. Halfway to their hiding place, she spoke with a very subtle Stalliongradi accent.
"What have we here? Three little fillies running around in an orchard at night, long past when I told them to go to bed?"
"Uh... we were just..." Sweetie Belle began.
"-hungry!" Applebloom piped in. "An' we wanted some apples, so we came out ta' pick a few."
"Yeah!" Scootaloo continued, before making a sort of whoopee-cushion noise with her mouth that was probably intended to sound like stomach grumbling. It earned only a raised eyebrow. "Really hungry."
"Hmm. That's interesting." The titan of a mare lowered herself to look the fillies in the eyes. "I've never heard of fillies your age who'd go sneaking around trying to get an apple when there's ice cream back in the house."
Sensing some sort of trick, the Cutie Mark Crusaders shared concerned glances amongst themselves. After a moment of silent confusion, she chuckled and smiled. "...and I'm willing to give you some."
That got their attention. The three fillies eyes widened, and they sent forth a single word in unison. "Really?"
"I'm hungry too," the mare answered. "Now walk with me."
"Thanks, Resistant! Applejack almos' never lets me have ice cream at home."
"Well then," the farm hoof whispered loudly enough to be understood. "I think we should keep this between us. Now, Applebloom, you need to introduce me to your friends."
"Oh, sure. Uh, Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, this is Resistant. Resistant, these are mah friends, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle."
"Nice to meet you!" Sweetie Belle offered.
"Yeah!" Scootaloo added. "Usually, Pinkie Pie throws a party for new ponies; how come you didn't get one?"
Resistant glanced away with clearly thoughtful eyes. The Crusaders, too young to pick up on such subtle social cues, assumed she'd seen something shiny in the distance. When her focus returned to the youths in her care, the farm hoof wore a subtle smile again. "I'm not staying here long; just until I have some money saved up."
"Do you not like Ponyville?" Sweetie Belle asked innocently.
"The town is lovely, Sweetie. It's not that I don't want to stay; I really can't."
"Why not?" Scootaloo asked.
"That's... complicated."
"Complicated like when Big Mac and Miss Flitter had a sleepover in the barn and stayed up 'til mah big sis found 'em in the mornin?"
Resistant's face reddened slightly. "No, Applebloom. It's not–"
Scootaloo piped in again before the mare could finish. "Is it complicated like why Rainbow Dash says she was gone for a week when I asked her what she was doing?"
"N–" The denial dropped off as revelation dawned brightly on Resistant's face. Had the comparison been any more clear, her expression might have melted off like a bad Daring Do special effect. "Actually, Scootaloo, that's a very good comparison.
"So you're a guardspony then?" Sweetie Belle asked.
At this point, it is worth observing the utter comedic tragedy that the mare then known as Resistant had no beverage in her mouth upon that particular inquiry. Had such a liquid been present, some physicists suspect the mare may very well have not just broken, but utterly shattered the world record for the greatest distance covered by a drink as part of a spit-take (and also the sound barrier). Unfortunately, due to the absence of such a liquid, Nightmare Moon's record remained intact. (Said record took advantage of the world's gravitational field, and evaporated partway through the atmosphere on the morning of March 16th, 448 A.S. In a sense, she hit her target when it rained in Canterlot three days later.)
Instead, Resistant's mouth hung open for just a moment, and her hooves stopped dead in their tracks. Despite her youthful innocence, Sweetie Belle did have the awareness to suspect she had said something wrong. "Uh, my big sister, Rarity, said Rainbow Dash had gone to be a guardspony for a week. I... kinda wasn't supposed to say anything..."
Her head hung low in a moping that might have stopped the heart of a more sensitive being. Resistant placed a titanic hoof on the filly's shoulder by way of comfort. "How about we just keep this our little secret, then? I'm not going to tell anypony if you don't."
"Okay." Sweetie smiled, and the group continued on their way.
As the apple trees passed them by, a small grin began to grow rather quickly on Scootaloo's face. She trotted over to Applebloom's side, and only when the two were nearly touching at the shoulder did she speak up. "Told ya."
"You didn't tell me anythin'. You thought she was a spy!"
"Spy, guardspony, who cares? I was way closer than you; you thought she was just a farmer."
"I am a farmer," Resistant piped in.
Scootaloo rolled her eyes. "Well, yeah, right now. But you didn't used to be, right? Is being a guardspony your special talent?"
As if realizing what she had proposed, the three Cutie Mark Crusaders suddenly focused their attentions on Resistant's flanks, and the two interlocked horseshoes depicted there. "How'd you get your Cutie Mark?" Sweetie Belle inquired.
"I bet it's for being so good at whackin' stuff with her hooves, like that tree!" Scootaloo exclaimed.
"Nah, it's probably fer bein' super strong 'n fast!" Applebloom countered.
"You are all incorrect," Resistant said, as her thesaurus had run out of colorful synonyms for the term. "If you're expecting a story about superheroes, you'd do better to ask Rainbow Dash, or her father."
"Rainbow Dash has a dad?" Scootaloo asked.
"Duh. Now shaddup!" Applebloom lightly slapped her friend across the back of the head. "One story at a time."
Resistant cleared her throat. "Right. Well, where do I begin? I was about your age; my mark came late as you'd say now, though back when I was young, I was considered early."
"How old are ya'?"
"You aren't supposed to ask that," Sweetie Belle said. "Rarity always gets mad if somepony asks her that."
True to her name, Resistant shrugged. "You're right, Sweetie Belle; some ponies don't like to be asked their age. But it doesn't bother me. Applebloom, I'm thirty years old."
"Wow, really?" Sweetie Belle tried her best to imitate her sister's flattery, though it came across more than a touch too flat. "You look so much younger."
"More like a stallion, you mean." The mare casually tapped her unusually well-formed jaw line and shrugged. "Just who I am, I guess. Now, I was telling you my story. When I was about your age, I lived in Stalliongrad. My family were potato farmers, since they grew well even with all the snow."
"Ha! I told ya she was a farmer!"
"But she just said–"
Resistant sighed. "Please, girls. I've worn many hats in my life, and not all of them were comfortable."
"Ya'll ever worn a cowpony hat? My sis' got one, an'–"
"Yes, Applebloom, I have seen it, and it's a very nice hat. But when a pony says they wear a lot of hats, they often mean that they do a lot of jobs. In any case, the job I was doing at the time was picking potatoes. My father had thrown out his back in the fields, but we were also running low on food."
"Well, why not just ask your neighbors?"
Resistant smiled at Sweetie Belle's naiveté. "In those days, in Stalliongrad, there wasn't a lot of food to go around, and earth ponies had always been the poorest of everypony."
Applebloom's little face scowled in a mixture of distaste and confusion. "Wait, earth ponies? Why's that?"
The farm hoof knew that it would do no good to burden a young mind with ideas of social strata and the ancient castes of the city. However, after a moment's thought, an answer swept into her mind.
"Well, you know the Hearth's Warming Eve story, right?"
"Yup!" the Crusaders answered enthusiastically.
"We got to go to Canterlot a few years ago!" Sweetie Belle added.
"Yeah! Rainbow Dash was in it! She was the best!"
"Nu-uh. Mah sis did a way better job than her."
"What about Rarity? She looked so fancy with that big crown, and–"
Resistant chose to interrupt by quite literally picking up two of the ponies (Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle), and pulling them apart. "That's quite enough of that, I think. You wouldn't want to summon Windigoes here, would you?" The expressions on their faces left her with a small chuckle. "Well, actually, that's sort of the point. Do you know where the three tribes originally lived?"
The trio of fillies pondered for a moment. Despite her general social unawareness, Sweetie Belle's subtle cunning managed to solve the puzzle first. "You mean Stalliongrad is where the castle is?"
"Yes. Castle Burning Hearth is still standing there today, in fact. But, unfortunately, it isn't the only thing that still remains in Stalliongrad. The three tribes haven't really gotten along with one another for quite a long time in the city. Even if ponies learned harmony here, they aren't so nice everywhere. That's why you're very lucky fillies to be living here, in the Domain of Canterlot. Princess Celestia is a much better ruler than the other nobles."
"Plus we have Princess Luna, too!" Scootaloo added.
Resistant visibly winced, and it took her more than a few seconds to find words. "Yes, I guess you do. Now, where was I?" Her eyes glanced up at the dark, starry sky for a few moments. "Right, potatoes. Well, my family wasn't doing too well, and we needed the money from a good harvest badly. That meant we needed to get the potatoes dug up. My mom and my older brother and I all went out and started digging. They worked the whole day, but when they went in for the night, I wasn't really tired. I had my brother bring me my dad's big, bulky jacket and a scarf. I put them on, and kept digging. All night, up the next morning, and all the way through the next night."
"Wait, three days?"
Resistant nodded. "Three days. Back then, trains didn't do very well in the snow, so one only came into Stalliongrad every few days. That day was when the train was supposed to come in from Canterlot. Prices tended to be better if you could make it in time. I went inside and fell asleep. My dad found my cutie mark when he took his coat back, but I was too tired to wake up. I didn't find out until the next day."
"That's amazin'!" Applebloom yelled.
Scootaloo seemed less convinced. "Three full days? Yeah right. Can you imagine that much work, Sweetie Belle?"
"Well, no, but..." The unicorn hesitated, unwilling to contradict an adult's word directly.
"I doubt either of you could," Resistant noted callously. "I was using earth pony magic."
Applebloom cocked her head. "Say wha' now?"
"Earth ponies don't have magic!" Scootaloo protested.
"Really?" Resistant smiled knowingly. "I wonder... Why don't you three girls go find a rock, about this big." She indicated the shape and size of a small baseball. "I'll show you."
Though Sweet Apple Acres was well-maintained, it didn't take too long to find a few decently sized stones. The Crusaders returned to Resistant, and she set them up in a small circle around her, equally spaced. "Now, I'm going to count to three and close my eyes. Then I want you to throw the rocks at me."
"Won't that hurt?" Sweetie Belle asked innocently.
Resistant smiled toward the little filly with just a hint of pride. "It might if you actually hit me. Ready? One... Two... Three!"
What ensued was a scene that utterly invalidated the vocabularies of the Crusaders. The huge, four-foot tall mare jumped upward into the air, until her hooves were at the level that had once been her shoulder. In the process of the motion, she shifted her shoulders to the side and twisted, so that her body twisted like a sort of corkscrew. Despite her eyes being shut tightly, the stones flew between her legs without so much as a subtle tap against her coat.
The glory of the scene was rather subdued by the subsequent flop of her body against the cold grass, when she found herself wholly unable to put her hooves back under her body. Some might have mistaken the slap of her body against the ground to be a crack of thunder or the felling of a tree, had anypony apart from the Crusaders been around to hear. Thus, for philosophical purposes, she didn't make any noise at all.
Scootaloo was the first to react. "Cool! Can you teach us how to do that?"
Resistant wasn't particularly encumbered when the little filly ran up to her side, and put her orange forehooves over the older mare's side. She stood up quickly, and Scootaloo was surprised to suddenly find herself sitting on Resistant's back. "Firstly, Scootaloo, it’s earth pony magic. And even if you were an earth pony, I couldn't teach you. Every little earth pony has to discover it for themselves." She shot a knowing glance to Applebloom, having anticipated her next question.
"Aww! How'm I supposed ta get mah Cutie Mark in magic if I can't even do any magic! Yah gotta help, Resistant! Please?"
Resistant had, in her lifetime, faced hooves, swords, spears, the teeth of dragons, bolts of lightning, balls of fire, and even spells of outright disintegration. Apart from the missing segment of her right ear, her body had been entirely unaffected by such threats. Yet for all her endurance and her legendary fortitude, she had no armor against the overgrown eyes and slight pout of the little yellow filly. She knew she couldn't offer what the fillies wanted, yet she couldn't find it within her heart to just do nothing.
"Applebloom... I..."
Little tears had begun to form at the corners of Applebloom's eyes.
"Please, just..."
The pout began to twitch.
"Fine. Fine. Just make it stop." Almost immediately, the simpering mess became a massive smile. "If you want my help that badly, I'll... teach you three some guardspony tricks or something, I guess. Just remember this has to be a secret between us. Understand?"
"Got it!"
"We promise, Resistant!" Scootaloo added, quite literally yelling into Resistant's half-ear.
"Good. It's late right now, though, and I think you all still wanted ice cream?" She turned around to nudge the little pegasus on her back. "I bet Scootaloo and I can beat you there."
- - -
Stats
Page generated in 0.269 seconds
Total duration
961 users online
1,289,248 hits today, 2,073,628 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Red Ink, you magnificent bastard, you.
Great work on the chapter, by the way. It's nice to get a shot of comedy here and there between the epicness of WLL.
Although now I eagerly await the next installment of that one as well.
RD Rips Inks coat,
Ink lights himself on FIRE
profilebrand.com/funny-pictures/category/demotivational/110_chess-overkill.gif
Awesome chapter. I really like the earth pony magic. I wonder if it could work for bullets too...
Amazing as always.
Does any one remeber what red inks real name translated was?
2002002, see 1829819
1999934, see this comic about a ninja.
Thank you very much can't wait for the next update for both of your related story's.
Now that's the way to make friends and influence people, Red Ink.
Woah, this Rarity is something else.
The Cutie Mark Crusaders learning guardspony tricks?
Yes please!
2008097
CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS GUARDSPONIES YAY!!!
Finally got round to reading this chapter... was not dissapointed. So... Red Ink pissed of Twilight Sparkle. He been there, what, a day?
I'd love to see Twilight ignite her mane and tail in front of him. I'm pretty sure he would scream or something.
2067479
Insert theory about being the Element of Magic, and how that gives her control over Empatha and Endura as well as Arcana here. In fact, with all three types of magic, she might as well be... an alicorn?
-LL
2068259 FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-... yeh, I'm not bothered about Twilicorn. To be fair, I'm quite interested to see what happens.
2068279
I'm... cautiously optimistic as well. However, just to establish this up front:
I can cover a lot of things without issue. Heck, Discord being 'redeemed' actually played into my plans for Act 3, hence all my crazy talk about Krenn in Act 2. HOWEVER, I am strictly unable to compensate for the season finale in my fic. I just can't do it. I guess you're welcome to pretend that there is a 4 or 5 year gap between episode 11 of Season 3, and the Season Finale. That might work. Let's go with that.
-LL
2068294 well, what little we know of the episode mentions "Changing destinies". My theory is that Twilight causes them to change cutie marks and destinies. She ends up in a position she always admired, which gives her immense magical power and knowledge. However, it doesn't go well for the rest/most of her friends. She makes a difficult decision. Be princess, and try to help her friends with their new lives (which they may or may not realize is a change) or change things back to normal, and lose her newfound abilities. And Bam. She reverses the spell. Lesson in Friendship: No matter how good it is for you, your friends should always come first. If that ain't the case (which is most likely isn't, although I suspect certain aspects to be the case), then I suspect we will still only have Alicorn Twilight for an episode. She only needs to be an Alicorn for one episode for Hasbro to sell toys.
2108399
Честно, я предупреждала LL, что Сумеречная Искорка хоть и канон, но вызовет всплеск эмоций у соотечественников.
Но! Канон! Никуда не денешься.
2108399, 2110967
As I may have to remind you, I don't speak Russian, so this is via Google Translate...
Идея состоит в том, что она говорит драконов, и, следовательно, ее языком является архаичной и неуклюжей на цель. Если бы она была с использованием реальных Stalliongradi, у вас не будет этой проблемы.
The idea is that she is speaking draconic, and thus her language is archaic and awkward on purpose. If she were using real Stalliongradi, you wouldn't have this problem.
Keyesty explained to me about how awkward the name choices were, and I had her stick with the 'bad' canon Twilight Sparkle name explicitly because I wanted it to sound weird, and note that Twilight might be able to communicate with Ink, but that she isn't very good at it.
-LL
2112200 Ouch, LL!
Do not use Google Translate, ask me.
Now Arcturus was hit not by Twilight alone, but also by "говорит драконов". He may never recover.
2108399 Перевод:
Тви учила язык драконов, а не Стольноградский. В аналогии это как старославянский к русскому. Ну или Ракосельский к... ну вы поняли. Так что все умышленно.
2112559
(I might wager he actually reads English, given that he read the rest of the fic, and not just that one little segment. I was just perpetuating a joke by writing my response in Russian [again, deliberately poorly], and that's why I also chose to include it in English.)
2112200
Ah, I see.
Mayhaps Twilight will see this as an opportunity to learn and practice some Stalliongradi, given its similarity to Draconian?
Complete with more mental facehoofing at her attempts from Roscherk, of course ;)
2114830
Nah, Google Translate usually isn't funny enough for that kind of joke. Too bad Babelfish is no longer available, it used to yield the most hilariously bad results.
2112559
Уразумел. Здраве буди, боярыня)
2124900
For amusement, I attempted to Google-Translate your comment to Key.
Maybe not 'that bad', but still pretty bad (?).
-LL
2137191
Perfectly understandable; I know Where Loyalties Lie is a big chunk of text. Let's see if I can get you the answers you're looking for.
1) I'm not really familiar with other popular fanon takes on Stalliongrad, to be honest; I've seen it a few times in various fics, but never to the depth I've taken it. So I'll give you a brief overview of my Stalliongrad, as the information has been presented in the other related fics. Here's a nice quote-box to set aside the following blurb:
So, yeah. In the course of trying to prevent an assassination attempt on Princess Luna's life and hunt down the assassin, Red Ink came to Canterlot and took over the position his 'Mentor' had left vacant: Captain of Celestia's Honor Guard. Then he killed some innocent ponies, and burnt down a building in Baltimare, in the course of trying to catch the assassin. It is important that he didn't make some sort of "sport" of it; lighting a building on fire was 'collateral damage', which should hopefully make sense, given how often he lights himself on fire.
2) Equestria, as a nation, is divided into
eightNine Domains: Canterlot, Trottingham, Prance, Bitaly, Zebrica, San Palamino, Stalliongrad, Cloudsdale, and the Crystal Empire (which is newly added). Most of the domains are ruled by individual noble ponies and their families, and their titles are handed down hereditarily. These ponies do, however, answer to Celestia and Luna, who are more than willing to strip a family of its power if necessary. Thus, despite a pseudo-monarchical system, all the 'nobles' still do have somepony they have to answer to. Generally, however, these ponies are competent and reasonable enough that Celestia keeps her hooves off their Domains.Oh, also, Prince Blueblood is technically the ruler of the Domain of Canterlot. In practice, however, Celestia and Luna just run that domain themselves.
So to get back to Stalliongrad: as one of the oldest Domains, it has a fair deal of 'clout' in some senses. However, due to the snow, wars, and low population relative to other domains, Stalliongrad didn't use to be very wealthy. Only since the end of the Blizzard Revolution has the Domain gotten much better, thanks to the efforts of Red Ink's older brother, Foresight. It still has a lot of growing to do before it is anywhere near the diplomatic rival of Canterlot or Cloudsdale, however.
3) Because its sort of a unique case. Firstly, Draconic is proxied by deliberately archaic Russian. That's why you get Twilight using really awful translations of her own name, for those of you who can read Cyrillic script. The reason that Stalliongradi uses a similar system is the same reason that the city was the first attacked during the Dragon Wars: the dragon "homeland" (a huge volcano called 'Krennotets') is not that far to the east of the city. Stalliongrad is actually closer to the dragons than it is to Canterlot. To that end, the ponies who went back and reclaimed the old city of High Rock following the Hearth's Warming Eve evacuation decided they wanted to create some distance between themselves and Equestria. They chose Draconic because its commonly used in magical scripts, so its "practical" to unicorns. From there, it just evolved into a more modern, pony version.
Out of the story, I never really thought of it as odd; Equestria clearly already has French and Italian (in dress dialogue and Princess Cadance, respectively). Why shouldn't they have Russian.
Red Ink's name isn't "Red Ink" in Russian. It's Roscherk Krovyu (Росчерк Кровью), which means "Blood Stroke". However, as you have hopefully noticed, Red Ink speaks terrible Equiish. His brother Foresight, who was mentioned above, speaks much better Equiish. Realizing that Canterlot ponies might think a name like "Blood Stroke" was creepy, and seeing the opportunity to pull a prank on his brother, told Ink that the translation of his name was "Red Ink" instead. That way, he wouldn't seem like the violent militant pony that he is, but at the same time, he would frighten away school foals, because his special talent is obviously giving bad grades on exams and essays. When Ink got a job as a substitute teacher, Foresight's joke got about as funny as it was ever going to be.
Let me know if you've got anything else to ask, and I apologize for the huge wall of text above. Hope it helps! Enjoy!
-Loyal Liar
2137644
Well, honestly, I think you are taking the term "humble attitude" too far.
I will never refer to your fic as "a big chunk of text", and you shouldn't apologize for thoroughly answering my questions.
I must admit that you are taking much freedom with show's canon, but I can't really object your fanon's logic.
1) Well, those fics I have been familiar with were leaning towards more similiarity with the real Stalingrad.
2) So, your Equestria is at the stage of pre-absolutist
monarchydiarchy? With it's Domains' rulers reserving some rights but for the most part being subordinate to Celestia&Luna?3) I must say, Twilight's dialogue wasn't actually archaic. It wasn't even anywhere near Middle English's level of obsolete. As for Twi's name, I do not find this translation more awful then any other translated Equestrian name or pun. I had to deal with a lot of them while GMing a roleplaying game for my non-brony friends who didn't speak English.
Still, I think that changing your whole language to something that is almost as foreign as it could get is just too radical. French and Italian are much closer to English than Russian, besides in-universe that was the language of a completly different species, and by making it their own ponies of Stol'nograd were building a huge wall between themselves and other ponies. And what for?
I want to ask you something else, if you don't mind.
Does this fic have a great deal of "badass deterioration" when it comes to Red Ink, compared to your other works? IMHO the way he is portrayed here, he can't be qulified as a revolutionary (especially one doing the underground activity), or as a capable head of an organization that is, as I understand it, a mix between normal and Secret Police. I must admit, he doesn't even give an impression of a capable millitary commander.
Thank you again for your time.
2138755
Red Ink isn't really a revolutionary in the political or philosophical sense. That's his father, Tsar Eye, who has a great deal of charisma and influence and ideas about social justice as it pertains to the three breeds of ponies. Ink himself doesn't make quite such a huge deal out of those issues. I won't spoil his entire backstory, but he wasn't really much of anything notable apart from the semi-violent son of a fairly rich pony, until he met "The Commander".
Now, as the leader of a military organization, we have a different issue. Ink is a military commander, and that's pretty much how he defines his entire identity. In this fic, he doesn't necessarily behave in 'strategically valid' ways, but that isn't really meant to be a sign that he's incompetent as a leader. Rather, its supposed to be indicative of the way he views Ponyville, and also his assignment by Princess Celestia. In his eyes, there exists no pony in Ponyville who is a military threat to him, and so as long as he doesn't get in a fight and have to deal with Celestia's execution, he believes himself to be justified in whatever stupid behavior he wants.
Let me back up here for a second and sum up some thoughts:
In Stalliongrad, Ink was the Commandant. There, he had basically no supervision in carrying out his duties. He was generally collected, and he maintained peace through some degree of fear. He and his guards did not go around hurting innocents, or otherwise living up to the pun of their city name. However, when they did track down and capture one of the 'counter-rebels' or some sort of violent criminal, excessive force in a public display tended to be the order of the day. Stalliongrad has a very peculiar method of public execution, which you'll see in a few chapters.
After leaving Stalliongrad, Ink took on the position of Captain of the Honor Guard primarily because he has a personal history with the assassin who poisoned Princess Luna. Having spent a big chunk of time tracking her, and having been the actual student of the position's previous occupant, he seemed a fair choice - especially when the mare who would otherwise have been next in line turned out to be a traitor. As Captain of the Honor Guard, he took his usual methodology of striking hard and fast, and using fear to get information quickly. This put him very much at odds with Shining Armor. Ultimately, Ink tracked down the traitorous guardspony whom I mentioned above in Baltimare, and the battle that started this story took place.
In those situations, Ink behaved with a high degree of tactical awareness. His primary questionable tactic is that he chose to involve himself personally, but then, that decision is simply the result of his overwhelming skill at hoof-to-hoof combat, and especially, the pegasus magic of Empatha.
In Ponyville, Ink is perfectly capable of behaving that way; he chooses not to. He's cocksure and, honestly, he has a semi-inflated opinion of himself. I do hope that comes across. Regardless, he basically doesn't view anyone in Ponyville as a threat, barring the issue with Celestia. And given that nopony is a threat, he subsequently decides that he doesn't need to care about being tactical or exhibiting any sort of leadership or self-restraint whatsoever. Instead, he goes around as exactly the sort of blunt instrument he honestly is, slapping Twilight on the flank, making lewd jokes, and generally making the juvenile mistake that being a badass just means being able to physically attack and defeat anypony he comes across.
I will note, however, that there are some traits of Ink's which do hold him back as a leader. The first is that he's young; in fact, he's barely older than Twilight. He's a bit lacking in the maturity department, and he tends to judge ponies in terms of their capacity for violence, rather than the merits of, say, their personality, or their contribution to society. More importantly however, is his lack of self-control. Ink is very much capable of managing other ponies intelligently. He isn't so great at actually dealing with *himself*.
Quite honestly, most of his capacity to lead comes from his reputation, which clearly doesn't mean a whole lot in Ponyville. In Stalliongrad, however, he is a big deal. Depending on what part of town, you'll get cheers, or an empty street, if you were to see him walking down in his cheap black jacket.
Thanks a ton for the interest; always fun to take a step back and answer some questions.
-Loyal Liar
2138945
I must admit that I have made a huge mistake.
I was measuring up those ponies against their Real Life counterparts, thinking about Blizzard Revolution in RL terms, with revolutionaries utilizing personal and mass terror, expropriations, rooting out and eliminating agents provocateurs and their political opponents, and so on and so forth. With their actual ascent to power it should have become a whole lot messier, and there was just no way for someone like Ink to become the head of the organization wich maintains order without supervision. Usually anyone who manage to claw his way up to such position have a different set of traits then Red Ink.
Also, he was basically bitch-slaped by Celestia, has a death sentence looming over him, he knows the way to speed up all this "friendship nonsense", all he has to do is man up, shove his ego somewhere and bear with it. And he is deliberately failing.
So yeah...
Don't get me wrong, this is IMO a very good fic and I'm having a great time thanks to good old schadenfreude .
2139360
Glad to hear it! You hit the nail on the head: Ink just does not want to 'win' at making friends.
In terms of the 'real-world' equivalent of any given Russian revolution, I guess I'd say this: if one of the rulers of Stalliongrad were to behave on the scale of some real-life Russian rulers, Celestia and the full might of the Royal Guard would be intervening very quickly.
Which isn't to say that she ignored the Blizzard Revolution, but that's a matter for WLL.
Anyway, yeah, I've enjoyed our discussions so far. I've got another chapter in the late-stages of editing, so it should hopefully be out very soon. Let me know if you've got anything more for me.
-Loyal
2138755
I still wanted to keep her lines understandable. Really old archaic would've been equally bad for our story.
As for translation of Twilight's name, it is just a bit of history of blatantly terrible adaptation of MLP:FiM for Russian television. Name is correctly translated per see, but thing is, it should never have been translated at all.
2139822
Мне кажется что тут все зависит от того, для кого именно делались эти вставки. Носитель языка понял бы и старославянский и тем более новый "боярский" язык. Те, для кого русский язык иностранный, могли бы впасть в ступор, но в конце концов если мы, с грехом пополам, умудряемся переводить пассажи Луны, которые кое-где представляют собой полноценный Middle English...
Касательно того, что переводить имена и названия не стоило - не согласен. В конце концов предполагаемая целевая аудитория сериала не говорит по-английски, а имена-то как ни крути значащие.
Кстати, хочу воспользоваться моментом и сказать спасибо за содействие автору в написании.
Спасибо.
P.S.
А все-таки, просмотрев три бумажных словаря и два электронных, я хотел бы заметить, что "росчерк" таки не переводится словом "stroke". "Flourish" - вот правильный перевод.
2139399
So the High and Might Trollestia wasn't sitting idly on her majestic royal flank while her subjects suffered?
I hate spoilers, so could you please tell me, in wich of your other two fics I can find more information on this subject?
I wouldn't just say Russian. Pretty much any RL ruler or revolutioner would have made her lose her shit and react. I can't really tell if I'm glad or saddened by the fact that politics and revolutions in your fanon is nowhere near RL degree of bloody mess. Probably the former.
Faved and liked this, also I have added your first monumental work to my Read Later List, hopefully I will be able to start it soon.
2140308
Вот только при адаптации Тви была единственной кого "перевели". Радуга Дэш, Рарити, Флатершай - все остальные остались с оригинальным или близким к оригинальному звучанием. Тви в этом плане особенная. И если честно, я скорее научу предполагаемую целевую аудиторию английскому и покажу ей оригинал, чем пущу ее к версии от Карусели. Фанаты же, уже зная английскую версию, от перевода могли только плеваться.
Впрочем, мне в этом плане повезло, я племяшке показывала украинскую версию, там перевод чуть лучше.
Правильный перевод - "Red Ink".
Я смотрела на "Flourish", но в данном случае был обратный перевод (En->Ru->En), в котором, в первую очередь, учитывалось звучание имени в целом.
Спасибо. Но LL изначально замечательный автор, моя помощь не так уж велика.
2140356
That's a very tricky question. Beyond what I've already told you (which Ink states to Shining Armor in the process of making a completely different point), the issue of Celestia's choices of intervention and non-intervention in the politics of other domains hasn't really come up. There is a character who is... 'missing' from the conversation that would need to take place.
If you just mean about Stalliongrad and Red Ink in general, here's how it works. Red Ink and his brother Foresight are both introduced in Chapter 5 of Act 1 (Honor Guard); from there, you get to see a lot more of him 'in his element' as opposed to this story. However, he doesn't do a great deal of talking about politics or the social situation in Stalliongrad, because he honestly just doesn't give much of a shit about either.
Much later, in Act 2 (Ghosts of the Past), you'll see an awful lot of Stalliongrad, as the both the city and Domain serve as settings for some of the action. However, if you start reading at Act 2, you'll have EVERYTHING in Act 1 spoiled for you pretty much completely.
Act 1 is of a very similar length to Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Remember that chapters are your friend. I do not recommend reading it in one sitting. Unless you're feeling up to a challenge.
And yes, it would honestly be *any* real world revolution which would make Celestia flip out. However, it would be very silly of me to make a metaphor for, say, the Peruvian revolution when working with a city named Stalliongrad.
Huh...I got an Update Notice....I'll just assume it was accidentally published and check back later .
2112200
Your Russian... Ну перестаньте ради Бога! Я знаю только очень мало русского языка и этот ещё мне не нравится! Кодга вопроси у вам, спрошите пожалуйста! For the love of God, use online translators as little as possible. I like how you are world building by having there be more than one language in Equestria, instead of just having everypony speak the same language but with funny accents. I like this story and I'll keep reading. I'll give you a proper review after I finish each act.
BTW, I imagine Red Ink as having a voice not entirely dissimilar to those of either Uncle Bourbon from Metro 2033,
or like Sergeant Viktor Reznov from Call Of Duty: World At War.
P.S.: "Росчерк Кровю" means "Sign of Blood" if I'm correct. To say "Sign Blood", you need to say "Росчерк Кровью".
That sounds sexual... Which flower pony is it that swooned? Rose? I think Rose would. Oh gosh, Ink, I actually got a laugh out when he was telling Twi about her friends and their... bed-ability. So this is where Soldier On went off to after the funerals. I was curious about her, but it's nice to see her acting nicely. Much better than her fellow Stalliongradi. Oh gosh... now I want to read a clopfic where Big Mac and Flitter... you know, do the things that go into clopfics. Thank you, Loyal, for filling my mind with that! Soldier On can fight off crazy, flaming pegasi, but can barely survive Applebloom's weapons grade cuteness. This was a good chapter, and maybe now Inky will begin to learn about friendship... or at least how to not be an ass.
~SolidFire
It has been over a year sense I read Honor Guard.... who is Resistant again¿
Now my mind's trying to imagine a plausible event that would caused Nightmare Moon, of all ponies, to initiate a spit-take that wound up breaking Equiss' gravitational pull.
You went and done it... you broke Google Translate.
cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/156225392200515584/562254257408180225/Screenshot_20190401-083704_Chrome.jpg