A Taste of Orange

by Prince Solstice

Orange and Pink

Manhatten eight years ago-

It was a hot day, the fillies were running up and down the street, and a younger Orange Swirl was mixing a new batch of ice cream in his father’s ice cream parlor. It was named ‘Lick This’ because Swirl’s father was a tremendous addict for comedy. He went to every comedian to come into town, while also doing shows here. It was good at raising money, and he only hosted amateur comedians. Tonight was no exception, and they had a familiar somepony named Pinkie Pie coming in tonight. She was a regular, and somehow in her childish antics on stage had become rather popular with the pony folk.

Swirl was just beginning high school and was a social recluse. He had very few friends, and even worse he was going to a school that none of his other friends went to. He wasn’t bothered by any of that, because he was going to turn his life around during High School, so he thought. Swirl was addicted to video games ever since he was a young colt. He watched his older brother play on the Coltari 64, and he enjoyed it so much.

Now Swirl’s brother is about to move away to Canterlot to get a degree. Swirl’s brother wanted to be an engineer, and Swirl was stuck here making ice cream and sherbet. He was jealous, upset, and began to miss him already. He hadn't even moved yet, but he knew things would never be the same.

Swirl was finishing with the batch of regular ice cream and stuck it in the freezer. He then got out all the juices and things necessary for the family secret sherbet. The real secret was the addition of actual orange juice straight from the ritzy Orange family in Manehatten. It also helped that there really wasn’t anything added, it was all a straight formula for making sherbet.

“Swirl!” His concentration was broken and he accidently spilled too much vanilla in this batch. He gave sigh, and hated the fact he was a perfectionist when it came to step by step instructions.

“Yea dad!?” Swirl yelled out. He continued to mix the concoction. There was a long pause, and Swirl stopped mixing.

“Swirl! I called you once!” Swirl sighed and trotted back into the back. His father was sitting at the table reading his newspaper. The sun was peeking through the window illuminating the fake plastic fruit in the middle of the checkered table, apples and oranges. The kitchen was a light blue, with dark blue stripes, resembling a sort of cheap wallpaper. He trotted over the white tiled floor to the table.

“Yes dad?” Swirl pulled up a chair, and sat down to the left of his dad.

“What are your plans for today?” His father put his newspaper down. He had a steak of grey running through his faded brown mane. He was orange like Swirl, but instead of black he had faded brown hair instead of the black inherited from his mother. He had on glasses and a paper held up in front of him. The giant white sink behind him was full of dishes, which Swirl knew later he would have to clean.

“Well, I was going to finish work and just stay up in my room to write or something.” Swirl’s father gave him a disapproving look.

“You need to be downstairs to help us tonight. This electrical stuff is hard to wire up, and we need your help.” Swirl gave out a small sigh. He reluctantly nodded, and started to get up.

“Hey, wait a sec.” Swirl looked at his dad. “You said you were writing?” Swirl quickly turned red, and nodded. He didn’t mean to tell his father that. “Do you mind if I see what you are writing?” Swirl didn’t want people to see his writing. It wasn’t very good, plus he didn’t even get to fix the mistakes.

“Actually, I really don’t like people reading it.” His father tussled his hair.

“Come on son, I’m your dad, it won’t change my opinion of you.” He gave Swirl a smile. Swirl hopped out of his chair. Swirl passed the fridge into a doorless door frame to the set of stairs that led up to his families flat. They owned the first two floors of this building, it was kind of run down on the outside, but Swirl’s family made sure to keep everything tidy inside. It was a quick climb up to the living portion of their parlor. It had its own front door, which was unlocked for the most part. He opened the brown colored door and trotted on through. Their flat was pretty bland. White walls that seemed colorless, dingy brown and white tile that met with hard wood floors at every room, and the furniture was lacking the sheen they used to hold. There was a rather small kitchen area, and hardly used. Only liquor was being held in the fridge. There was a cheap table stuffed in the corner of the kitchen and right next to it was a door to a balcony. It faced beautiful brick, which echoed sound to anyone standing in front of it. Often the sound of sexual perverts and gunshots tended to wake Swirl up late at night. He was a homebody and didn’t get out much. Even in the summer.

He stepped into his room and went to retrieve his poetry from his antique desk. It was made from apple trees, and had been given to his family by the Oranges. He looked around his messy room; it was mostly paper and school work. He hadn’t cleaned it up since the week before finals. His blue walls that relaxed him, his overly broke in handed down bed, and his posters of his favorite bands, all made up his room to be a writing haven. He always found inspiration, whether he was listening to Rolling Stones to his newly acquired band Modest Mouse. Swirl always found time to pursue his hobby of music and writing. His aspirations of becoming an architect were slowly slipping away as he soon realized he can describe it better than he can draw. As he left his room, he instinctively shut his door. He quickly made his way back downstairs with the folder in between his teeth. He set it on the table, and his father immediately picked it up. He pulled out one of Swirl’s poems.

54
Do nothing
Be Nothing
Waste away
Or Live
Be Alive
And Waste away

Swirl’s father just kind of skimmed over the poems, as if he was in deep thought. He seemed a little disappointed, or at least it seemed that way to Swirl.

“This kind of concerns me Swirl.” His father gave him a frown. “Are you feeling okay?” Swirl wasn’t surprised he asked that question, and in his honesty, he didn’t want to reply. So long has he wanted to tell someone that he wasn’t okay, but he never really knew why. His trust in his father, was rather slim, and he never felt safe speaking his mind around him. Swirl accidently bumped the table as he shifted to find comfortability.

“Yea, I’m fine.” Swirl just kind of shrugged while saying that. He looked his father in the eyes, “It’s just writing after all.” He sort of gave a grin, he was finally figuring out how to lie properly, and get away with it. His father was one of the hardest guys to lie to, because he literally would call anyone out on bullshit.

“Okay, well this actually is pretty good. Keep it up… at night so you can at least go outside every once in a while.” His father gave him a smile and a pat on the back. Swirl got up to continue mixing the sherbet, although he just wanted to start over cause he screwed it up.

He got back up and went over to their personal fridge to pull out a Dr. Palomino, and with the refreshing sound of opening it up, he took a sip, and suddenly had an epiphany. He looked over at his dad.

“Hey dad?” His dad put his paper down again, and looked at him. “Is there anyway, maybe one day I could get on stage and do my poetry?” His dad sat back for a second as if he were in deep thought. He gave a sigh and looked back up at Swirl.

“No, this isn’t some jive place for hipsters to speak nonsensical poetry on my stage. It’s just not interesting enough to actually act out. Plus people want comedy, not a slice of life.” Swirl felt a little crushed as his dad simply went back to reading the paper. Swirl put his drink back in the fridge after sealing it up, and the glare off the over polished fake fruit hit him in the eye. He then went back into the parlor, and his sherbet had melted.

“Well, shit…” He quietly said to himself. He would have to put it back in the freezer to get its consistency back, and spend extra time whipping it enough to not look like frozen orange cream soda. He lifted it up and put it back inside the big metal fridge. He looked around, the place wasn’t even open, but it was so alive. Being a Sunday, they always opened a little later on the weekends, so they could sleep in.

“Swirl! Remember to whip up some Sherbet!” Swirl hated how loud his father was. He could never tell if he was angry, or just trying to tell him something. He just sat there for a second not saying a word. He just assumed it better not to reply with what he really wanted to say. He felt like he needed to change how he spoke to other ponies.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and there stood the smiling pink pony known as Pinkie Pie. Swirl was a little confused as to why she was here so early. So he stood up and went to the door, and gave her a forced smile.

“Hi again Swirly!” Swirl hated that name. He unlocked the door and let her in.

“How are you today Pinkie?” Swirl let her bounce passed him, and he shut and locked the door behind himself. He still needed to clean the window on the front door. He went back over to the counter, where Pinkie was spinning around on the stool. She stopped herself as Swirl reached down to grab a rag and some Winnie-Dex. She smiled at Swirl.

“Hey frowny, you got any drinks here?” Pinkie had an odd sense of humor, and somehow it always made Swirl smile.

“Yea Pinkie, we got drinks, what’s your poison?” Pinkie’s smile seemed to get bigger every time he spoke, or maybe it was his smile. Happiness from Pinkie was infectious and she had made that promise to Swirl before.

“Something sugary.” She couldn’t sit still in her bar stool and kept spinning it back and forth.

“Hmm, alright.” Swirl then walked into the back, and grabbed a bottle of his Dr. Palomino. He returned to see Pinkie actually relaxed, kicked with her back against the bar. Swirl came up and set the drink next to her. “This one is on the house.” Pinkie spun around with her smile, and gave Swirl a wink.

“You really know how to treat a guest.” She opened the can and gulped it down in just a few seconds. She then set the can down, making an echoed cling against the white counter.

“Wow Pinkie that was impressive.” Swirl just kind of laughed as he moved back to the large freezer.

“Mhm! I learned that trick from my good friend Rainbow Dash. Me and her always have tons of fun together.” Pinkie gave Swirl a smile, but Swirl didn’t return the smile. He had pulled out the orange sherbet he had started mixing. Its consistency was lacking a good mixing, and a tiny bit of natural cane sugar. Swirl set it on the counter.

“Ooo, sherbet, I bet that’s gonna be good.” Pinkie licked her chops, making Swirl crack a smile again. He liked Pinkie; she was one of the few ponies that could make him happy, for really no reason.

“Pinkie, how do you make people happy like you do?” Swirl leaned against the counter, awaiting an answer. Instead she shrugged.

“It comes naturally. After all, it’s easier to make it through life happy all the time.” Swirl lost his smile. “And I think ponies naturally want to be happy, so I just stimulate that want.” Swirl was impressed by that sort of answer, especially from that hyperactive mare.

Author's Note:

Flash back chapters will occur quite often, they will help set up Swirl's psyche.

Comments

[kalash93]

Here's my review of your story.

My initial reaction was mixed. The characterization side of the story was strong, but the supporting aspects were weak. It needs more love/

Criticism sledgehammer inbound!

You urgently need to go back through your story and proofread it. You use commas to write direct addresses, Prince Solstice. Secondly, double space between your paragraphs. Failure to do so creates an ugly block of text, which is not only more difficult to read, but less appealing to look at.
I think that you might need the Alternate Universe tag for this story. You've got radio, marijuana, and close to all the trappings of twenty-first century America.
If there's one thing I find particularly weak in this story, then it has to be the totally flaccid narrate. There is no discernable conflict at all in this story. Since you seem to be trying to go for telling it all as a flashback, then the first thing that lets it down is the hook. Beginning in media rerum combined with telling about how a character got there can work, but there needs to be an initial draw to it. There isn't any excitement to watching a guy get stoned and drone on about his life. The second chapter fails to add any additional excitement. There's nothing at stake. We know what the end results will be. You have already clued us in that the tale will probably be rather uneventful. There is no conflict in the present and you have already told us the result ofany conflicts in the past. The audience lacks a reason to care and read because you spoiled your own story. Your slice of life is too much letting the camera roll on daily life without editing out the mountains of filler that naturally happens with such things. Another issue is how you do your characterization. Far too much of it is stated instead of shown. Boring! Need I say more?

Things you did well,

The atmosphere and tone are both established extremely effectively. I feel as if I am reading something from a disillusioned youth whose life has not gone according to plan. These both seem to be your strong points in everything your write.
Your characterization is effective. The methods are not ideal, but it is doubtlessly effective. I do not wonder at all about who Orange Swirl is or what his personality is life. You managed to establish all your characters very quickly with relatively few words. Do be advised that this method better lends itself to oneshots and shorts. Longer stories like the one you have planned here will very quickly become stale because static characters are often extremely boring to watch in slice of life situations.

Everything else was functional. If I didn't mention something, then assume that it's okay. My opinion of this fic is a slightly phlegmatic meh. The idea of a self-insert living a mediocre normal life is interesting enough to warrant reading, but the execution is subpar. I can only give you 2/5 flutteryays.

[Prince Solstice]

2300475 Thank you for yet another helpful review on this story. I am having a real problem executing a plot to this story, mainly because there is a lack of depth to what is going to happen. Yes, it is the boring mediocre life of a pony named Orange Swirl, and if I could I would love to rewrite this as an actual story of mine, rather than another lame ass self insert pony O.C. Fan fiction is best served with the characters from the show, and overall this story would be better served otherwise. It's not really supposed to seem like America, but being a college student in America kind of makes it hard to avoid some aspects. Especially since it includes some more modern aspects of the human civilization. The flashback chapters are really only happening to further the psyche of Swirl. I put a lot of effort into mixing in symbolism with the scenery, and yeah my forte is really one-shot writing. I've edited the first chapter probably twenty times over, and the second chapter was not too far behind (not to mention every person that offers me help I tell them to look this story over). Every chapter is supposed to be sort of a story within itself. Perhaps this story is a little too much of 'our world' for the brony fandom, considering it's really playing close to the slice of life tag. I may go back and edit the original description, but as I've written in a set of my own rules, there needs to be something that the reader is rooting for the main character. I think really the point of the first two chapters is to set up basically two different characters and put them in similar situations, but have different reactions and actions. I can set up a story really quickly, and end a story pretty good, I just have trouble with everything in between. Well, I guess I'll spice things up for this in the next chapters. I really don't want to revamp these two chapters anymore because they set up everything pretty clearly. Either way, I'm sure I'll be contacting you for more help in the future. Thanks a ton for the review, it really helped. Plus I like the abuse, I dish it out and I can take it too. /)

[A true pony critic]

2300690I like this sort of chapter Android I am glad to see that you are doing many of them its a good start Android and I am amused...continue