> Spike's Writer's Block
>  by KillerSteel
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> 70 Pieces of Parchment Later...
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Scritch, scritch, scritch. 

The sound of a quill scratching against parchment filled the silent library, the light of the midday sun leaking in through the windows, illuminating the lone writing desk in the center of the library. A lone, purple dragon sat in his simple chair, tapping his chin between the rare moments where he actually wrote anything down.

“Uhhh… no, that won’t work,” he grumbled, crumpling up the parchment in front of him and tossing it onto an ever-growing pile of scraps behind him. He pulled a new sheet off the shrinking pile on his writing desk, placing it in front of him. He stared at it, trying to derive some way to place the words in his head onto the page.

“Great, I get a need to write, and not a single good idea has popped up. Every single story I write about me and Lady Rarity has ended up being nonsensical! Maybe I should stop putting my dreams on paper,” he groaned, leaning back in his chair and staring up at the ceiling. He traced the lines rising up from the wall to the center of the ceiling, the bookcases standing tall around him, “Thank goodness Twilight doesn’t need all this parchment. Usually all it takes for a letter is one sheet. Weekend's coming up in three days, and she usually sends her letters on a Sunday. Gives me lots of time to work…though I’m starting to wonder if that time's worth wasting.”

“Maybe I just need to brainstorm for a bit…” Spike closed his eyes, staring into the darkness as he sighed, “Ok, brain, give me a GOOD idea this time… something exciting, shocking, with lots of intense scenes and fighting!” He said, letting his imagination draw the world of his mind. After a minute or so of concentration, he opened his eyes to a large white room. He looked down at his claws, then his body, seeing they were still of their typically diminutive size, “Brain, I need something a bit more… you know, manly. This is my imagination, I should be taller at least!” Spike shouted into the void around him, but to no avail.

“Alright, fine. Ok, let’s see here… it’s, uh,” Spike looked up into the blank canvas over him, squinting his eyes slightly. He tapped his chin, wondering how to paint the scene around him, “Ok, it’s a nice sunny day in Ponyville."

With the words uttered, the world bent and twisted around him, buildings rising from the ground as a sky painted itself across the white; a perfect copy of Ponyville. He was standing in front of the library, and the streets and houses stretched off for about sixty feet before ending in white. He looked up into the glaring heat of the afternoon sun, squinting.

“Sweet, that’s a good start. Oooook… so, story. Let’s see, what’d I have planned earlier,” He furrowed his brow, quirking his mouth up to the side, eyes questing the dirt road beneath his feet for a hint, “It was… ninja ponies who captured Lady Rarity, and I had to go save her. Alright, that’s the conflict. Now, what else makes a good story? Twilight always told me a saying, ‘A journey is in the road, not the destination’, or something like that. So, if the ending is me saving m’Lady, and getting that kiss… what would be the road leading up to it?” Spike folded his arms, conversing with his mind. The silence of the town pulled his eyes away from his feet, seeing the roads completely devoid of life besides himself.

“I wish Brain would just… automatically create ponies for me to talk to. Then again, it’s up to me as a writer to do that. So! Who should I make in this world? One choice is obvious!” Spike looked at the street before him, not even making an effort to think before an image of Rarity faded into view.

“Oooh, Spikey Wikey, you look positively adorable today! Did you do something with your spikes?” The unicorn asked him, trotting up and squishing his cheeks between her hooves, smiling all the while.

“Uhhh…sure, yeah, I did!” Spike nodded, his mouth moving into a curvy smile. Maybe I should’ve thought of her last though, drooling over her is going to mess up the entire story, and I don’t want that… Spike thought as he pulled the hooves squishing his face like a big pastry away from him. Rarity pouted at him like an insulted pup before walking over to the library behind him and sitting down, looking around at the world as the dragon returned to his thoughts.

Now, I have my damsel in distress… next up, what’s going to happen in the story? Should I start when she’s captured, or before? Who’s involved in the kidnapping? Of course I’m going to be the big hero, but even heroes need equipment and information. Who would I ask, and who would know? Spike put a claw to his chin as he looked up to the left, staring out into the painted blue sky the sun was hanging in. As if answering his prayers for an all-knowing deity, Twilight appeared beside him, and Spike looked up at her smiling face.

“That’s true. Any time I have a problem concerning information, I’d go to Twilight. She is the smartest pony I know, after all, but what if she doesn’t know? these are ninja ponies, after all, so they’d be really sneaky; kidnapping under the cover of darkness and all that. She’d still be a big a… shoot, what’s the word? Starts with an ‘A’…" he scratched his chin, wracking his brain for the word just on the tip of his tongue, "As… asseeeeh… asset? I think that’s it.” Spike shrugged. Good a word as any!.

He watched Twilight walk over to the library and take a seat beside Rarity, them exchanging a smile before looking around at the world absent-mindedly, “Alright, so, I have an ally and a damsel. Still no villain, and no journey. Well, writing is slow and a lot of work, but the end result is something really awesome. Usually.” Spike nodded, walking into the middle of the street.

“Alllllright. So, ally, damsel. Next should be a villain. So, who would be best as the main villain? They’d have to be sneaky, clever, cunning, and evil. Who fits the bill for that, though?” Spike looked at the ground, tapping his foot, "It's not like I know any supervillains."

He looked up to the sky to see if the blank blue-white above could help him, but he didn't make it far. Just in front of him was a perfect visage of himself!

Spike leaped back in surprise, nearly losing his footing, “Woah, ok, I can NOT be-“ he stopped, seeing the handlebar moustache on Other Spike’s face. Something just clicked at the sight of that grin just under it, “Ok, with THAT, I can definitely be the villain. But, if I’m the villain, then how can I be the hero? Hmmm, maybe I CAN be the villain. I mean, I can be cunning, can't I?" His brow rose at the thought, but quickly furrowed, "Do I have reason enough to be the villain though? I do really like Lady Rarity… but what if somepony else liked her too? And she liked them more than me?”

Spike raised his brow, looking at the ground before the scraping of claws against the dirt caught his attention. He watched his dastardly-moustached clone run over to Rarity, picking her up and raising her over his head. The other Spike blew a raspberry at a stallion. Wait, when did he get here?

The stallion quickly shook his head, grimacing at the daring insult blown at him, and the two started running down the street. Spike and Twilight simply watched on in silence at the silly scene as the other Spike leaped over a fence, tripping and crashing to the ground. Sadly, his pursuer made the same mistake, landing with a heavy thud!

Rarity's screams for her hero to help faded away as they blew through several walls like a pair of bulls, “Ahh, this is supposed to be a heroic story, tragic, heart-breaking! Not some silly story… though I have to admit, humor is good in a story,” He nodded, still grinning over the scene he watched, and started down the street, looking around at the buildings. 

“Alright, so, instead of a hero, I now have a damsel in distress, a villain, and a love interest… kind of. He’s just a stallion that likes Rarity, nopony's gonna wanna read about him. I know I wouldn't. Maybe he just needs a name? Obviously a stallion needs a name, and I can’t call him ‘The Stallion’ in the story. Names, names…” Spike squinted his eyes, his claw tapping against his chin as he sought the perfect name, a list of the ones he knew scrolling through his mind's eye, “Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Rose, Lyra… ohhh, come on, Brain! Come up with something!” He started pacing back and fourth, arms folded across his chest.

“What are good names for a stallion? So far, I’ve only thought of mares. Big Macintosh, Thunderlane… Wow, there aren’t a lot of stallions in Ponyville, are there?” Spike lowered his brow at the thought, the population situation hitting him, “Come to think of it, Ponyville is almost all mares. Argh, why is this coming up now?” Spike growled in frustration, closing his eyes. He opened them to find the streets filled to the brim with mares, both familiar and random creations of his mind, all staring at him.

He immediately jumped a good three feet into the air before crashing on his rear, “WOAH!” He closed his eyes again, his sharp breaths being run like a speedy race by his lungs. After a few moments, he finally opened his eyes to find the streets empty again. “Phew… ok, Brain, no more scares like that.”

Spike got back up, looking around. The Ponyville in his head was still only a small chunk of land around the library. What kind of locations would be in this story, anyway? What kind of story would it actually be? Spike groaned, a look of frustration growing on his face, and he stared down the street, thinking. Hoofsteps grabbed his attention, and he turned around to see Twilight walking up to him. She leaned into his face, mere inches away.

“Spike?” She asked, Spike staring back at her with a confused look.

“W-wait a second. Brain, what’re you doing?” Spike stuttered, knowing he didn't give Twilight any possible dialogue in this place.

“Spike, hey, Equestria to Spike!” If she was some random creation, it certainly didn't hear him.

“What is it, freaky mental Twilight who seems to be acting on her own?” Spike asked, rigid from surprise.

“Spike!” Twilight shouted into his face, causing Spike to scream as he flew out of his mental trance, finding himself back in the library. “You alright, Spike? You were just staring up at the ceiling.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I was just thinking.” Spike yawned, stretching out. I'm getting somewhere, at least. Kinda bad that I have to start over now, though.

“Thinking?” Twilight raised an eyebrow, turning to the small mountain of scrapped parchment lying on the floor behind them, “Oh, right, you were taking up writing, weren’t you?” She turned back to her assistant with a smirk.

“Yeah, I was. I’ve tried a million ideas, and they all sound fine in my head, but as soon as I put them down on paper, it all just falls apart!” Spike gestured wildly with his claws before planting his chin on the desk with a defeated sigh. Twilight moved up to the left side of the desk, looking at him.

“They can’t be that bad. What’ve you tried?” She looked interested. It's been a long time since I ever wrote anything. Wonder what goes through his mind?

“Whole lot of ideas involving me, Lady Rarity, and too many villains for me to remember, imagine, or even count. Every single idea just seemed, I dunno, stupid,” Spike replied, looking at Twilight with half-closed eyes, “I tried brainstorming, just closing my eyes and drawing everything out in front of me. I was really getting somewhere too, until you shouted in my face.”

“Woops. Hehe, sorry, thought you’d fallen asleep or, Celestia forbid, had some kind of problem. Just a little worried, that’s all.” Twilight grinned, brow raised apologetically.

“It’s fine. I remember the important details of what I got…mind if I talk to you a bit about it, see if I can think of anything else on the way?”

“Sure, go for it! This is the kind of thing I’m good at.” Twilight answered with a smile, walking around to the front of the desk. She sat down and put her chin just over the desk, looking at him with curiosity written on her expression, “Alright, let’s start with the ideas you had from your brainstorming.”

“Right. First, it’s a story involving me and Rarity. From my brainstorming, I’ve thought of myself as the villain; dastardly moustache, evil grin, crazy laugh, the works. From what I could gather from it, I found out that another stallion had already taken her love, and I decided to kidnap her, in order to try and make her love me over him. The stallion right now is just ‘The Guy’, absolutely no personality, not even a name. I haven’t even pictured him as anything other than an earth pony,” Spike lifted his head off the desk, propping it up on one of his hands as his eyes looked up at Twilight.

“You, a villain? Never would’ve thought of it,” Twilight grinned at the idea of her assistant running around committing dastardly deeds.

“Hey, I can make a pretty good villain! Dastardly tricks and evil plans, I can make it all!” Spike replied with a toothy smile and a laugh. He looked up at the ceiling again, tapping the desk in thought. “Right, that’s uh… about it, actually. I thought I’d have the main enemy be ninja ponies, but ninjas just seem… not original?”

“Cliché is the word you want,” Twilight nodded, her eyes turning to the left as Spike nodded in approval, “Sounds like you have a good start though. I’d agree with ninjas being unoriginal though… a good story has a villain that isn't in-your-face. It’s subtle evil.”

“Subtle?” Spike asks, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“Subtle, like not completely known. An act that’s performed without anypony finding out immediately. Not obvious, but under a guise or cover.” Twilight tapped her hoof against her chin as she mulled her explanation over in her head. What's a good example of that, though?

“Ah, yeah. That’s true… but what about the action? If nopony knows what happened, then where’s the story? ‘Hey, Rarity got kidnapped by somepony but we don’t know where, how or who.’ Story’s over.” Spikes gestured with his free claw, waving it off to the side.

“Not quite. Clues are always a huge part of finding somepony, and a villain always leaves something behind. Should it be obvious though, and should the chain of clues be really long or short before leading to the villain? That’s up to the writer to decide,” Twilight smiled, already thinking of some of the things she'd read over the years, “I’ve read lots of stories where the villain isn’t very obvious to anypony, but the main character always finds that one clue that sets him on the right path!”

“Have any recommendations?” Spike asked with a raised brow, watching the quickly expanding look of excitement on Twilight’s face. Oh boy... she's getting excited!, his own expression of horror grew in response to hers, knowing exactly what she was about to do, “Oh uh, wait, no need to start pu-“

Twilight's horn sparked to life, and before he could finish his sentence, about 20 books slammed down onto the writing desk in front of him, building a neat tower that extended up towards the ceiling, the purple aura holding them vanishing. “… I’ve really gotta stop asking these questions.”

“It’s fine! These are all personal favorites of mine, mostly mystery stories!” Twilight popped out from behind the pile with a big smile. Spike started looking over the spines of the books directly in front of him, reading out the titles to himself.

“Sherlocke Hooves… A Chain of Unfortunate Occurances, that’s a mouthful… In Her Majesty’s Secret Guard, oh, I’ve heard of that one! Let’s see, what else? Uhhh... huh, never heard of this one. ‘The Windigo’-“

“Ah, yeah, that one… I don’t really think you should read that one until you’re older,” Twilight grimaced, raising the top of the pile with her magic so she could pull the book out from it. She moved it over to a bookcase behind her, randomly placing it back among the stories, and turned back to Spike, “So, how about it? Ready to start reading for some inspiration?” She smiled in excitement, brow up near her horn.

“Hang on,” Spike leaned back behind the pile, out of Twilight’s vision, “Can you lift the books up? It’s sitting on my parchment.”

“Oh, sorry.” Twilight quickly moved the pile of books up, only managing a few inches before the pile hit the ceiling. “Wow…didn’t know I enjoyed that many,” She mumbled to herself as the sound of scribbling rose in front of her. She looked down to see Spike just finishing up his writing.

“Ok, wrote down my ideas so I don’t forget them. Which one should I start with?”

“That’s an easy one!” Twilight said with a big grin, pulling a book out from the bottom of the pile, and it floated over to Spike.

“Sherlock Hooves, eh?” Spike looked down at the cover, inspecting it. It was a very simple hardcover book, with a simple drawing of an earth pony with a magnifying glass as a cutie mark. The pony was wearing a trench coat and a double-lipped cap over his brown mane, though it was hard to pick out any further details, “How good is it?” Spike looked up over the top of the book at Twilight.

“You won’t be able to put it down as soon as you start reading.” She still had that same, infectious grin on her face.

“Oho, is that a challenge?” Spike smirked.

“Want to make it one?” Twilight's brow fell, returning the smirk with her own smile.

“Sure. If I stop reading, you have to clean up the library after your next researching binge. If I read it cover to cover without stopping, then I’ll clean up after Pinkie Pie’s next party,” Spike grinned; Pinkie’s parties may be huge, but after spending so long dealing with Twilight’s messy hurricanes she called ‘research sessions’, it wouldn't be hard for him to hold up his end of the bargain.

“You’re on,” Twilight says, and the two shared a hoofshake, or hoof-clawshake, to seal the bet. Twilight trotted off to the kitchen, mumbling something about being famished, and Spike resigned himself to his book.

Alright, Brain, get ready for inspiration… Spike readied himself for whatever would come, and opened the book to page 1.
> A Name For A Hero
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“Ohohoho, Mr. Hooves, how are you gonna escape this time?” Spike smiled to himself as he readaway, hours having droned past. Half the book was already finished, and the little dragon showed no signs of slowing down, “You have a lot of the mystery found out… funny though. No amazing sword duels, no bulky heroes and fair maidens, just a detective solving a mystery. Who knew it could be so… so awesome?!”

“I see you’re having fun.” Twilight’s voice broke through his focus, and he fell away from the world of the story as his eyes turned to the unicorn before him.

“Darn it, Twilight, I was just getting into it!” Spike pouted as if he'd just had a bucket of gems pulled from his grip.

“Says the dragon that’s already half way through the story.” Twilight replied with a sly grin.

Spike sighed, looking back at the book still in his iron grip, “Yeah, that’s true. Awww, at this rate, I’m gonna lose the bet! Must…put down…book!” Spike grunted as he tried to put the book down, his body not responding to his orders, “C’mon, Brain, put the book down!” He growled, smoke launching out of his nostrils, but the deathgrip of his claws refused to give way. He finally dropped his efforts, quickly breathing. A single drop of sweat ran down his brow from his Herculean effort.

“Did you just work up a sweat trying to put a book down?” Twilight asked with a tilt of her head and a worried raise of her eyebrow, “Are you alright?”

“You know, that’s a good question. Reading is fun sometimes, but the books I usually read are stories of heroics and damsels in distress, towers and dragons, sword fights and stuff. I’ve never given a book like this more than a glance, but now that I’m reading it… it’s actually really cool!” Spike smiled up at Twilight, getting his breathing back under control. Wish it wasn't so hard to put down, though.

“Really now? What’s happened so far? It’s been months since I picked this book up and ran through it,” Twilight came around to his left side, three books levitating around her.

“Uhh, let’s see. Sherlocke just put away one of the members of an evil organization trying to overthrow the Trottingham government, but they aren't talking. All they've done is hinted at a building in the harbor, and he’s just now entered a trap set up by the bad guys,” Spike furrowed his brow, ideas moving through his head for the hero of his story. “This is like story book gold!”

“I knew you’d find it interesting. What do you think when compared to your usual fantasy stories?” Twilight asked, looking at the page he was on, eyes scrolling over a dialogue between Sherlocke and two criminals under the guise of harbor workers.

“I’d put them on par with each other. I’ll happily pick up this book any day, but I’m not about to drop a fantasy book to read a mystery,” Spike shrugged, adamant in his praise for the works of fantasy he dove into every chance he got.

“So, how about your original goal? You were reading for inspiration, but now it seems you’re caught up in everything.”

“You know what, the bet’s off. I’ll happily lose it if it means I can finish this book off and try it in one of my own stories!” Spike said with a toothy smile and a chuckle, returning to the book. Twilight shook her head and wandered off, one of the books opening to her side as she giggled.

Guess he's growing up! Never thought I'd see him turn to a more mature work like Sherlocke... well, life has a way of surprising you, I suppose. She smirked, looking through the pages of the book, “Let’s see…” Twilight mumbled to herself as she sat down, the flipping pages echoing through the library as Spike descended back into the world of intrepid detective, Sherlocke Hooves.


“So, Mr. Hooves, still giving us the chase, eh?” One of the harbor workers sneered, the log saw starting to spin with a dreaded howl of air and metal grinding against metal.

“I’d say I’m actually ahead in this race, though this turn of events was a bit unexpected.” Sherlocke replied, looking around at the warehouse walls and ceiling, not a hint of worry on his face, “Mr. Darkwater set up quite the cliché trap.”

“Our boss isn't known for his dramatic acts. Simple and dirty does the job just fine,” The brown unicorn with the messy overalls replied, laughing as the log track made its way towards the now blurring saw, the teeth singing through the air. 

Sweat began to roll down Sherlocke’s brow as the blade drew ever closer, worry starting to break through his impervious expression, “Come now, Watson, where are you?” He mumbled to himself, his voice completely drowned out by the spinning blade.

“Oh, this is too good…” Spike almost started bouncing in excitement, now seeing the world of the book. He walked up to the log track, seeing a trench coated earth pony strapped down to the log track, rolling towards his doom at the teeth of the spinning blade, the wind from the saw gently gusting past his mane. He joins in the laughs of his criminal cohorts, rubbing his claws together, “I gotta use this sometime.”

“Hooves!” A voice cried out as a cane flew through the air, cracking the unicorn in the back of the head. The poor fellow stood stunned before falling over, a dazed look in his eyes. His companion, a Pegasus, leaped into the air and flew up further, trying to find where the cane came from, and more importantly, who threw it. He set eyes on a pony in a simple bowler hat and brown coat, before a blunt object crushed his chest with a heavy impact.

His breath hissed out as his lungs contracted from the pain, and he began to fall. An aura caaught him during his descent, and slowly brought him down to lay beside his companion. Sherlocke looked up at the blade with a slight panic, but spoke as if he’d just endured a very uneventful game of chess, “Well, Watson, you certainly took your sweet time… I don’t think the world could handle two of me, so, do you mind?”

The blade’s motor died as a switch was thrown, and the log track came a stop a good two feet away from the teeth of the blade. Sherlocke let out a satisfied sigh as Watson walked by the little dragon to help his friend out, “Yes, well, traffic was horrifying. It didn’t help much that I had to follow the shouts of your friends here…” Watson answered with a chuckle as the leather straps came undone. Sherlocke sat up, rubbing his ankles, but a smile found its way to his face despite everything that happened.

“I always tell you to avoid the scenic route, my friend. Now then, we’ve a mastermind to catch, and this delay won’t do well for my search,” Sherlocke and Watson walked by Spike as he listened to their dialogue, and quickly followed behind them as they left the warehouse. A ghostly voice, not very different from Sherlocke’s, though very female, pierced his little world of mystery and suspense.

“Spiiike! Spike! Are you in?” The voice followed a banging on the door, and the Trottingham harbor melted away from Spike’s vision as he returned to the library, groaning with obvious annoyance at the interruption. He put the book down with utmost care, a sudden feeling of victory passing through him, “Guess that bet’s all mine, Twilight…” He said to himself with a chuckle, the interruption now seeming more like a blessing than a curse. He opened the door to find Rarity standing at the threshold.

Spike’s mouth curved up into his typical wavy smile as he looked up at the unicorn of his dreams, “Heyyy there, my lady… how might I help you this fine day?”

“I thought you knew, Spikey, you said you were going to help me at the shop today,” Rarity replied, adjusting her mane slightly, the light from the descending sun making her seem like an angel in the evening light. Spike tilted his head slightly, the world a muffled blur as he took in as much of the sight as he could. Stallions fight wars for a sight like this...

“Uhhh… sorry, missed that, you said something about the shop?” Spike said with a shake of his head, pushing away his daydreams to focus on the task at hand. Rarity raised an eyebrow at him.

“You. Were going to help me. At the Boutique. Today.” She spelled out, with a second of pause between each chunk of speech. Spike quickly nodded and hopped outside, turning around.

“Twilight! I’m off to help Rarity! And I won the bet!” Spike smiled, hearing a frustrated groan from inside.

“Alright, I’ll be sure to clean up then! Have a good time!” Twilight shouted back, though noticeably less enthusiastic about having to clean up the eventual castle of books she was going to build from her binge of research. Spike laughed as he closed the door, careful not to be audible to the librarian.

Yeah, it’s mean to laugh, but I’m out of cleaning duty today! Spike thought to himself with a grin before turning back to Rarity, “So, what are we starting with on this fine day? A dangerous romp through the gem fields, outrunning Diamond Dogs as we look for emeralds and sapphires, or maybe a couple hours spent going over your designs, making your visions a reality?” Spike asked with a raise of his eyebrows and a smile.

“You’re going to help me with a new fashion line, Spike, and I’m going to end up using every last gem I have. In case I run out, I’m going to need you for a quick run through the field in order to get more, and I mean very quick. The dresses are due tomorrow and I’ve been caught up with so many things today…” Rarity said with a dramatic sigh and gesture of her hoof.

“No problem!” Spike hopped with enthusiasm and a salute. Before Rarity could even take one step down the road, he'd already sprinted off down the street.

“Spike! I HAVE locked the front door! Oh, that dragon…” She smirked and sighed, before running off down the street after him.


“I’m helping her… I’m helping her… so don’t get frustrateeeed,” Spike mumbled to himself, balancing a small chest of emeralds on his head, a box of thread in his left hand, rolls and strips of ribbon in his right, and a pin cushion balanced on his left foot for good measure. A scowl crossed his face from time to time while the sounds of thread racing through cloth and the buzz of a sewing machine filled the large Boutique main room.

“That’s it, just hold still. You’re already being a great help,” Rarity smiled from behind her glasses, grabbing several emeralds and a strip of ribbon from her living toolbox. Spike managed a smile back before it deformed to a slight frown as she turned away. Spike sighed, retreating to his thoughts, hoping for some escape from this statue-like boredom.

I wish I could lock up my muscles… then I could just think. Really want to get back to that book. Spike blinked a few times to get away from the thought, unable to shake his head from fear of annoying the unicorn before him, Since when has a book ever been higher on your list than Lady Rarity, man? I do help her a lot, and then I spend most of my time cleaning up the library… huh; guess I haven’t done much beyond helping others, never spending time for myself. Ahh, why should that change? I make lives easier like this! Spike thought with a slight nod, knocking him off-balance. “Woah!”

A blue aura quickly trapped Spike and everything he was carrying, the entire setup freezing in the air, “Honestly, Spike, you must focus,” Rarity leaned into his vision; eyes drifting over him to make sure everything was still where it should be. After happily noting that no emeralds had flown through her shop, and no ribbon was tarnished by the floor, she leaned back to her work, tipping Spike back up onto his one-foot standing position with a flick of her horn.

“Sorry, sorry… things’ve been on my mind lately,” Spike said with a slight smirk, then a grimace at his own wandering mind.

“Things on your mind? Sounds like something’s bothering you, dear.” Rarity worked away at the machine, cloth spilling over the side of the table, suddenly being yanked up with surprising speed as she made her passes under the machine’s needle.

“Well, I’ve taken up writing-“

“Writing? Oh, that’s good! Put that mind of yours to excellent use!” Rarity cut him off, Spike tipping over slightly from the jump of the interruption.

“Sure, yeah it is, but it’s not exactly my problem. Nnn,” Spike stabilized himself, sweat threatening to run from his brow with his delicate effort, still looking up at the unicorn.

“Writer’s block?”

“If ‘writer’s block’ means not able to write anything, then yeah. It seems like every idea I get, it just doesn’t sound…right, you know?”

“Oh, yes, I’m well aware of it. I tried my own stories way back when, but I’ve never had much of a penchant for literature. Any particular genre?”

“Genre?” Spike raised an eyebrow, careful not to tilt his head with it.

“A particular type of story; comedy, romance, tragedy, that sort of thing.”

“Oh, uh… I dunno, actually. I’m kind of building it as I go. It's the first actual story I've written, so I guess I’ll give it a ‘genre’ once I’m done,” Spike grunted, his leg getting a bit sore, “C-can I put this stuff down? I feel like I’m gonna fall over again, and this time from my leg giving out…”

“You don’t need to hold the pin cushion, dear.” Rarity replied without looking over, the pin cushion floating up and off Spike’s leg. He switched legs, sighing from relief with having a strong leg to lean on while his right relaxed, free from its burden, “As for your story, I’ve always enjoyed a good romantic novel.”

“Romance? That’s not really my, uh… f… fo… it’s not what I want to write, no,” Spike mentally gagged on the prospect of him writing a romance novel as he spoke, forcing down his moment of physical sickness. I mean, c’mon! Me, write a romance novel? I’d sooner give up all the jewels I own! Spike thought, sticking out his tongue in disgust for a second.

“Oh, well that’s too bad. The battle of love is more tragic and powerful than a duel of blades! Two hearts separated by incredible distances and perilous obstacles, forever pulled towards each other in the heat of their adoration for each other!” Rarity chuckled to herself, her mind wandering as her hooves automatically did the work. She soon levitated the dress off the table and looked it over, pulling at numerous parts of the fabric with her magic to check length and flow.

The dress looked like an elegant ball gown, possibly for a noble. The back of the dress fell out past the tail and flank, layers of frill and silk spilling out in a multitude of colors ranging from blue to purple. Spike’s eyes wandered across it to the middle, where a wrap of red ribbon complimented the light blue of the dress' body, then travelled up to the thin sleeves, a mosquito-net style taken for the ankle and half-way up the shin. The neck had a tall collar, the collar itself adorned with three perfectly cut emeralds.

“Looks… expensive,” was all Spike could manage for a comment, dumbstruck by the sheer class of the dress.

“Well yes, it is meant to be a line for Canterlot nobles. I find I’ve been paying a lot of attention to the middle class, and wanted to explore my posh imagination. This design came to mind, and I’ve yet to have it reviewed by some friends living in the capital. What do you think?” Rarity turned to Spike, his face a surprise to her; his brow was furrowed and his eyes were squinted, mouth twisted up at the corner; he appeared to be trying quite hard to appraise the dress.

“Ahhhh… I-I’ve never been a dragon of fashion, Rarity. Your opinion is a lot better than mine. But I think it looks good,” Spike said, arms gesturing slightly in adoration, It’d probably drain the entire Canterlot treasury to pay for it, too… he pondered to himself, smiling while pressing down his urge to chuckle at the thought of Princess Celestia handing over a mountain of gold and gems for that one dress. The mental image caused the laugh to break through his defenses, and he chuckled.

“Hm? Is the design that bad?” Rarity said with a grimace, running her eyes quickly over it again, and Spike quickly composed himself, regretting the chuckle.

“N-No! No, um, it’s fine, it’s fine! I was just thinking about something pretty funny, sorry,” Spike offered an embarrassed smile in apology, clearing his throat, “So uh, how many dresses did you say you needed to finish?”

“Oh dear, that’s right! Alright Spike, stay perfectly still and keep those claws sharp and ready! Time to work my magic!” Rarity locked a determined look on her face, accessorized by a smug smirk, and suddenly the work table became a flurry of activity. And away she goes... long as I keep my arms like this, I'll be a good enough help. Spike returned to his thoughts, keeping himself perfectly still as the white void came back to his mind’s eye.


Spike took in the blank void, and immediately dragged back the small chunk of Ponyville he’d imagined before. He turned to the front of the library and nodded his head, Rarity fading into view at the front door. He looked off to the left and nodded again, ‘The Stallion’ popping into existence, and he and Rarity leaned on each other with a gag-inducing look of bliss. Unable to resist the urge, Spike did so, looking off to the right. He nodded again, and Twilight appeared, book in her magic, eyes zipping through the pages.

Finally, he turned and tipped his head at the ground to his left, his mustachioed clone coming into view, and they set eyes on each other, “Man, you really DO look evil.”

“I know, right? It’s the moustache and the smile.” His clone replied, letting a sinister laugh escape him as Spike stepped back.

“Alright, mind joining them over there then?”

“Sure. Rarity will be mine… just need to wait for my chance!” Evil Spike rubbed his hands together, a cape appearing on his shoulders as it fluttered in the air. He moved to the stallion's side, locking eyes with each other. For a moment, a bolt of lightning jumped between their pupils, the electric hate of their glare manifesting.

“Alright, so, I’m going to have to make names and personalities for both of you,” Spike clapped his hands together, catching the attention of the stallion and Evil Spike, “So, ‘The Stallion’, what should you be called, and how should you act?” Spike asked, walking up. The stallion didn’t answer, much to Spike's confusion. He rubbed his chin as he appraised the stallion, details becoming apparent to him.

‘The Stallion’ was a brown earth pony, a foot taller than Rarity. His mane was a ragged gold, tail following suite. His flank bore nothing; a blank canvas, but everything else about him seemed very average.

“No, that won’t do at all. What would Rarity want to see in a stallion? Bulk, flair, bravery… didn’t she say something about a prince? Hmm,” Spike stroked his chin, walking around The Guy and appraising his build, “No, this won’t work. He needs more class.”

A suit suddenly materialized on The Stallion, a black tuxedo, perfectly pressed, accessorized by a small black bow-tie on his neck and a rose in his front pocket. The Guy adjusted his suit, wearing a suave smirk as he appraised his look.

“Better, better. That actually doesn’t look half bad,” Spike put on a satisfied smirk, nodding at his creation, “Can’t say the blonde works though. Looks weird,” Spike tilted his head to the side, the mane on The Stallion’s head shifting colors, along with style. A green mohawk appeared on his head, which earned a sickened grimace from Spike, quickly replaced with a long red mane that flowed over one side of his head. The crimson locks fell over his left eye, blocking it from view, “That’s depressing,” Spike said with a shake of his head. The style was replaced by a basic brown, frazzled look, “Rugged…but it looks like you just woke up.”

The Stallion looked up at his mane with a furrowed brow and a sigh, no sound accompanying the hiss of escaping air, “Brown stallion with a black tux… what style works with that, and would it look good for a beautiful pony like Lady Rarity? Gotta make you look perfect, big man,” Spike shared a smile with The Stallion, both knowing just how deserving she was of the perfect stallion, “But before that, I need an actual name for you. Calling one of my characters ‘The Stallion’ in my story is just plain bad writing,” The Guy nodded in silent agreement.

“So what’s a proper name for a stallion…?” Spike stroked his chin, looking around himself for inspiration.

"Punching Bag!" Evil Spike shouted, seemingly the only one with a proper voice. Rarity threw an annoyed glare at him while Twilight giggled to herself; at least one of the mares had a sense of humor.

"No, no, that wouldn't work. He's the hero, he needs a good name," Spike looked off at his evil side, smirking to himself.

"Brown Note." Evil Spike suggested, a big smile on his face.

"No," Spike drew up a polar opposite frown.

"Uhhh...Dumpster Craw-" A claw was shoved to Evil Spike's mouth before he could finish.

"You'll get your chance, just let me think," Spike stared at his clone with half-closed eyes, expression screaming of irritation. Evil Spike nodded with a saddened look as the claw was pulled away.

"I still think he should be called Brown Note."

"If it were for a joke, then I'd agree completely. But he's not some comedy relief, at least not in this story. Or this draft, for that matter," Spike walked back to the path in front of the library as he squared up his cast. "Nothing's coming to me..." He sighed, feeling defeated.

"Spike, are you alright?" Rarity asks, looking at him.

Oh, time to go back, Spike thought, the world disappearing from his view as the Boutique came back to him, "Sorry, spaced out for a second, did you say something?"

"We've run out of emeralds, but I've finished up the dresses I had due for tomorrow."

"Wow that was fast. How long's it been?" Spike asked, finding the weight of the ribbons, gem chest and thread case had been removed from his body. He moved his arms down, then fell to his rear as his legs gave out, immediately snatching their chance at a merciful break, "Long time, I'm guessing?"

"Five hours," Rarity non-chalantly replied.

"F-Five?! How did-"

"Not sure, but you were thinking about something and I got lost in my work. Anyway, you've been an excellent help, Spikey Wikey!" Rarity leaned down and mushed Spike's cheeks with a big grin.

"Yeah, noo pwobrem." Spike managed to get out through his squashed mouth, enjoying himself. As Rarity let go, his mouth immediately curved into his silly smile, swaying slightly, "Noooo problem at all, Rarity... glad I could help."

"I suspect Twilight is expecting you, so I won't keep you for long. Have a good evening, my friend," Rarity smiled to him, radiant beauty shining with the light of the desk lamp she had to light her work, "Shall I walk you home?"

"Usually it's the gentleman that walks the lady home, but I'd enjoy the company. Thanks," Spike offered a wide smile in appreciation, and the two headed out of the shop, Luna's moon hanging high in the sky. Spike looked up at the starry night sky, not a cloud in sight, "Always nice to see the sky like this..." He smirked, letting a gentle puff of air exit his nose in a sigh.

"Indeed. I find a starry night like this is always a time to spend with somepony special to you..." Rarity looked up with the little dragon, though his eyes turned to her.

"I can see why," Spike mumbled as he looked at the light refracting off her mane and coat, seeming to create a heavenly glow, Everytime I look at her, it's in the perfect light... how does she do it? Spike pondered, feeling a smile coming back, and he looked back down the road, using a claw in some vague attempt to cover the light blush on his cheek.

"So, when you were 'spacing out', as you said, what were you thinking about?" Rarity asked, looking down at Spike.

"I was trying to think of names for the characters in my story. I've got a stallion, but I just can't think of a proper name... he's the hero, and he's in love with this mare who gets captured. Suave guy, smooth, handsome, all that." Spike folded his arms, trying to think.

"I always find names to be more easily found after you've thought over their personalities. Perhaps you should think of a particular situation in your story, and see how the hero reacts? Such as catching a glimpse of his love in the hooves of the villain?"

"That's a good idea... how would he react? Would it be calm and calculated, looking around himself for a way to free her? Or would his emotions take control, sending him headlong into a fight he might not win? Cool... thanks Rarity!" Spike grinned at her, mind already setting out to find the answer to her question.

"Always my pleasure to help an aspiring author. Anything else?" She raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"I don't want to give too much away, but I'm trying to think of where the story is going to take place. Right here at home would give me a pretty good town to work in, and I know where a lot of stuff is... but I don't know if it fits my story." Spike looked around at all the buildings with a shrug before turning back to Rarity.

"Nothing's wrong with your story starting here, then moving out to parts unknown. That's part of the glory of a story, it takes you places you've never been before. Even a fictional environment can feel just as real as your home town."

"If I do start it here... yeah, that's true. I'll think it over more before I get to bed, because I know as soon as I lie down, I'm gonna be out for the rest of the night." Spike chuckled at just how quickly he conked out some nights, "Thanks, couldn't've asked for more help, Rarity."

"Like I said. Here we are, have a good evening, Spike, and be sure to get to bed early! You want these ideas fresh in your head for writing," Rarity smiled to him before turning away, walking back in the other direction. The two waved to each other as Spike walked into the library, and he carried right on towards the steps, not even blinking at the titanic fortress of books set up in the main room.

"Oh, I can't believe creating a new spell would be this hard!" Twilight shouted in frustration from her fortress, causing Spike to look over.

"New spell? You know those take months of experimentation to get right. Hay, even I know that," Spike spoke back to the wall of textbooks and scientific references, inciting another groan from the unicorn locked within.

"Yeah, I know. You helped Rarity alright?" Twilight yelled from inside her fortress, the sound of flipping pages echoing out with her voice. The sound was still blocked well by the thick wall of Bastion Dictionary, separating her from Spike.

"Yeah, she got her dresses done on time, least that's what she told me. And don't forget, this is your mess to clean up, so I'm gonna write down some stuff before getting to bed," Spike put on a victorious grin, feeling quite proud of himself.

"I know... did you think of anything for the story?" The sound of a book slamming closed punctuated her sentence, before it was added to the walls of her castle.

"Not a whole lot, I'm trying to figure out the personality for the hero of my story," Spike sat down at his desk and began tapping the parchment he'd left there with a dry quill. He leaned on his hand in thought, tapping his left temple in time with the tapping of the quill. He soon set himself into a rhythm, starting to pay more attention to the drum beat of the quill and his claw, rather than the ponderous ideas rolling through his head.

"Well, I guess you should start with thinking of how he'd be in real life. Not every hero needs to be a muscle-toned super soldier with innate physical and mental ability. Even your average Joe could be a hero in disguise."

"That's true... but it seems weird to just use any old pony as a hero."

"That's just because you're not used to it. Give him a believable personality, flaws, quirks, maybe he knows a few good jokes?"

"So nopony like Rainbow Dash?"

"Oh no, I'm sure she'd be flattered, but we've already got one Rainbow in the world," Twilight giggled, Spike adding his own small laugh to.

"Yeah, that's true also. Then again, you guys aren't all that hard to write about. Maybe I should base him off one of you?"

"First, from the sounds of it, you're basing a stallion off us. Second, you really should ask permission. Just think of your own, and build him up... start with a core ideal. What does he believe in?"

"Hmm... what does The Guy believe in?" Spike dipped the quill into the inkpot near his left claw, and started writing down ideas as they came to his mind's eye, "Maybe... maybe he's a pony down on his luck. He's lost a lot of money to some local casinos, and he's escaped to Ponyville to get away from the city... looking for a job, he turns to some of the local ponies for help. Some give him bits to buy food with, and one lets him stay in her shop in the guest room.

"The mare letting him stay with her offers him a job as an assistant, which he takes with almost a sense of greed...wow, already this story is straying away from my original idea."

"That's fine, you're doing great! He seems like the kind of stallion you'd see in Las Pegasus; down on his luck without a bit to his name. What else?" Twilight slammed another book closed, looking back with a grimace at the shrinking pile behind her.

"So he takes the job, and starts talking to his boss. He recognizes her from rumors he's heard around town about a famous dressmaker who lives in the country-"

"It's Rarity, isn't it?" Twilight spoke up, causing Spike to nearly fall out of his seat in surprise.

"How'd you find me out?"

"Seems like everything you write about has had SOMETHING to do with Rarity, so... I dunno, lucky guess?" Twilight said with a vocal smirk.

I can practically see her smiling through that Anagram Anatomics book... Spike thought, quirking his mouth upward slightly. He turned back to the parchment, seeing all the ideas already scrawled on it. 

"Alright, talking with the famous dressmaker. Does he know her?" Twilight continued, quickly flipping through the pages of a book on beginner's magic. Wait, why am I looking through this? I read this book eight years ago!

"No, he doesn't, but he's heard of her. It takes a while, but the stallion starts talking to her during work, and they find they have some things in common, mainly gossip. They share rumors and stories they've heard during their lives, and are soon hanging out with each other and Rarity's friends after a few weeks or so," Spike nodded, adding a couple scribbles next to his already-large mountain of notes on the page.

"Sounds like a nice guy. Have a name for him yet?"

"I feel like something's coming... stallion down on his luck, brown coat, scraggly light-brown mane... gambler... something to do with luck, I think."

"Sounds good, any ideas?"

"Good Luck...uhhh... hmm... Hot Shot? I like that, makes him sound daring."

"Sounds good... nothing comes to me when I think about it, so go with it."

"Alright... The Stallion, your new name is Hot Shot," Spike nodded and smiled. 

Somewhere, deep within the dragon's mind, Hot Shot smiled back, happy with his new name.
> Setting, Setting, Setting!
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“Woo… kinda… what’s the word? Light, I guess? Light-headed maybe,” Spike mumbled to himself, floating through some kind of space. His eyes drifted across the monotone world, not a shred of color anywhere, “Where…?”

“You’re dreaming. I thought you’d figure that much out on your own!” A voice, Spike’s voice, spoke off to the dragon’s right. He turned his heavy head, seeing his moustachioed self as the dastardly devil stroked the handlebar on his upper lip. He wore a grin on his face like he just cheated five gamblers out of every bit they had.

“Dreaming? Oh, right… I was thinking about the story,” Spike lifted himself off the ground with a grunt, staying on his rear as he rubbed a temple, “My dreams seem kinda… blank today though.”

“It’s because instead of your mind being locked on Lady Rarity, you’re thinking about something else. Particularily…”

“Right, my story and where it was gonna go. Me and Twilight were talking about that… earlier, I guess. I figured out my villain.”

“Me, of course,” Evil Spike chuckled evilly, finally leaving his moustache alone.

“Right. I’ve also got a hero,” Spike looked off to his right as Hot Shot came into existence. He didn’t have his tuxedo anymore, though, “Where’s your coat and shirt? I thought they looked pretty snappy.”

Hot Shot simply shrugged in response, taking a seat on the snow-white ground. The stallion adjusted his mane, trying to get the bed-head-for-days look out of it, but getting nowhere fast. He simply lowered his hooves with a grimace, letting the locks fall down in front of his eyes in victory.

“You still don’t have a voice, do you?” Spike got off his butt and walked up to the hero in his story. Evil Spike jumped up on Hot Shot’s head and gripped his mouth, opening and closing it in a talking fashion as he spoke, his voice a trying-but-failing-horribly impression of Derpy’s voice.

“I’m a big, dumb stallion who ALWAYS gets in the way of the handsome Evil Spike’s efforts to get his marefriend back!” Evil Spike lost his grip as Hot Shot clamped his jaw shut, glaring up at the dragon on his head, “What? No sense of humor, you big lug?” Evil Spike chuckled before being chucked off by a quick flick of Hot Shot’s head.

“…Seriously? You’re EVIL Spike, not CHILDISH Spike. Death traps, dastardly plots, complicated plans that have you leave the room JUST as the hero is coming towards the mouth of the volcano.”

“Are you kidding? None of those plans work; I’m not the stereotypical villain that laughs and monologues all the time,” Evil Spike threw his nose up in a pompous fashion, folding his arms with a ‘hmph’.

Spike simply rubbed his forehead, sighing. “Alright, before I get more sidetracked and wake up without actually doing anything, how about we start thinking about setting? Any good story needs a good location.”

As Spike completed his sentence, the world began to bend and fold on itself, walls shattering to reveal massive fences and the metal walls of a fortress. The atmosphere of oppression only grew thicker as the world built itself, stockades occupied by tortured criminals lining the single red carpet, drawing a blood-soaked path up a short staircase to a golden throne, standing upon it a rather royally-clad Evil Spike.

Both Hot Shot and Spike stare up in disbelief at the massive castle that now surrounded them. A courtyard, it’s just a courtyard with walls and tortured ponies!

“Are you crazy? If I use THIS as my setting, I’ll be… I’ll be… laughed at!” Spike shouted, the walls being torn down by a furious hurricane blowing past, Evil Spike’s royal crown and cape blowing away in the shredding wind. Just as quickly as the dark castle had been built, it had been swept away by something that could only be described as an Act of God, “If I do use this, I’m just gonna blow it away with some Celestia-driven event.”

“Party pooper,” Evil Spike mumbled as he sat down on the ground where his throne used to be, pouting like a child who'd just had his candy taken away.

Spike took a deep, hopefully calming breath, ignoring the evil him, and looked around at the thankfully blank world, “Now, what would be a PROPER setting? Considering your background, Hot Shot, I think it should start in Las Pegasus.”

Spike closed his eyes and concentrated, the world once again bending and fading away from the pure white of his blank dreams. They slowly gave way to neon-lit bars, casinos, and fast-moving chariots going up and down the road, carrying all manner of celebrities and gamblers wanting to make their mark on the world with that fabled roll of the dice, “This is my setting. Well… at least at the start of the story before you come to Ponyville.”

Hot Shot looked around, completely taken in by the yellows, greens and reds of all the neon signs. Luna’s moon hung in the air above the Pegasus Strip, allowing the night to be filled by the visual gold of the City of Sin’s blinding, gaudy lights. The moon even seemed to be orbiting further away, as if embarrassed with this challenge to its celestial beauty.

“Sheesh,” Evil Spike got up, moving about the middle of the street. Two stallions drawing a chariot shouted at him as he dodged out of the way of traffic, everypony seeming to be in the rush of their lives. Some drunkards walking out of a rather loud bar off to the left started squabbling, two in the group of four earth ponies quickly coming to blows with each other, “I think you over did it, Spike.”

“Are you kidding? I’ve only heard stories about this place. Always wanted to come here just to see the lights… this is probably exaggerating it, but c’mon! Isn’t it awesome!?” Spike gestured to all the sights around them. Hot Shot and Evil Spike followed his wild arm flails, both of them covering their eyes to protect from some of the more dangerous depictions of mares pouring drinks, or stallions dancing with canes and top hats. One even depicted the Great and Powerful Trixie performing a rather stunning act using two Ursa Minors and a deck of cards, “Take in the sights, guys, cause this is definitely where my story is gonna start.”

“You’re crazy. Anyone who reads this is gonna go blind from imagining this place… I know I am,” Evil Spike replied in his typically insulting tone, shielding his eyes. Hot Shot simply curved his mouth upwards in thought, nodding in approval of the setting.

“C’mon, it’s not that bad. Who knows? I know some villains had pretty cool secret bases, maybe you’ll have one too, Thorn?”

“Th-Thorn?! You’re calling me that!?” Evil Spike tore his eyes away from a bar called ‘The Liver Killer’ to stare at his doppelganger, a look of crazed disbelief on his face, “That’s the stupidest name I've ever heard!”

“Alright, alright! I’m probably gonna call you ‘Boss’ most of the story anyway, plenty of time to think of a name,” Spike said as he sidestepped another racing chariot, one of the stallions turning around to raise his hoof in a cursing manner, “Jeeze, they should call this place the ‘City of Stuck-ups’…”

“Fitting for the hero, don’t’cha think? Since ol’ Hot Shot here is such a stick in the mud… won’t even react when I insult him!” Evil Spike glared up at his rival, Hot Shot quickly returning it. They slowly leaned toward each other until Hot Shot’s chin was against the ground, both their foreheads butting against each other as they tried to burn holes into each other’s eyes.

“Alright guys, calm down. Now, since we’re here, what’s gonna happen? This is before Hot Shot meets Rarity, so what pushes him over to Ponyville?” Spike raised his brow at his cohorts, who both pulled away from their glare and placed hoof and claw on their chins. Spike joined them in the gesture of deep thought as they all start thinking.

“Maybe… the original idea was for him to get caught up in some trouble here, right?” Evil Spike started, raising an eyebrow. Spike nodded in confirmation, letting Evil Spike continue, “So why not get him involved with the mob? Maybe a deal goes bad and he has to run.”

“He’s a gambler, not a criminal. Getting bad debt at a casino would be reason enough to run though. Alright, so let’s see… come with me, Mr. Shot,” Spike strolled over to one of the sidewalks, Evil Spike and Hot Shot following behind him, “What’s a good name for a casino…?”

“The Hot Dice!” Evil Spike exclaimed, wearing a toothy smile.

“Nah…” Spike scratched his chin in thought, stopping in front of a monolithic building covered in neon lighting; Pinkie would've had a heart attack out of excitement if she was asked to host a party here. A massive sign hung high over the three pairs of double doors, a blank green across its front, surrounded by shining dark blue.

“Uhhh…The Stacked Deck,” Evil Spike suggested.

“That makes it sound like they’re trying to take your bits, as in ‘not fair.’”

“You’re busting me here, man!”

“You’re me! How could I be busting you without busting myself?! If… that makes sense. Stupid dreams…” Spike frowned at his evil double. A strange feeling passed through him as the world warped and faded, his eyelids falling against his commands to keep them open.

“Ah, guess it’s morning. We’ll see you later, Spike!” Evil Spike waved with Hot Shot as they faded away into the white of oblivion.



“Ngh…what a night,” Spike whispered, blinking hard against the light streaming in from the window, “What was I doing today? Urgh... well, I did just wake up, makes sense that I can’t remember immediately… maybe some breakfast’ll jog my memory,” Spike looked over at the bed, seeing Twilight snoring away, rolling occasionally in her covers. He smirked at the sight as he hopped out of his own basket, walking over to the stairs. He made careful steps down them while rubbing his eyes, the haze of drowsiness not quite cleared from his mind. He stopped half way down the staircase, looking at Castle Twilight standing in the middle of the room, the books that made up its walls still not taken down and re-organized.

Well… she did say she’d clean it up, Spike drooled in his mind, still blinking his eyes on occasion to get the blur out of his vision. He took a seat on the step, holding his head between his claws and closing his eyes, “Sheesh. How bad a sleep did I have? The dream seemed a lot longer than usual… then again; I don’t normally have conversations with myself… does that make me crazy?” Spike asked the darkness, not expecting an answer, “Just the creative process, Spike… didn’t somepony say something about madness and genius?”

Spike shook his head, waking up a bit as he continued his morning pilgrimage to the kitchen, stretching as he reached the bottom of the stairs, “Right then… breakfast, breakfast. Maybe I’ll go with emeralds today; the sour flavor might wake me up a bit. Finish off with a glass of milk,” Spike nodded at his breakfast plan, nearly falling on his face with it. Can't slack today, so better make it a double order! Well... slacking before breakfast isn't that bad. The dragon made a less-than-brisk walk into the kitchen. With all the enthusiasm of an irritated sloth, he’d assembled a good amount of gems and a glass with a milk carton next to it, and he stared off into space as he placed the first gem between his steel fangs.

“So. I’ve got a villain. He’s… well, me. Twilight did say to give the characters some quirks… what did Evil Spike act like?” Spike quirked his mouth as he chomped on the gem, the shock of sour hitting his cheeks and tongue and revving his brain like Pinkie after a small cup of coffee, “Woo! Plan worked better than I thought,” He raised his eyebrows, the scales nearly flying off at the velocity of the act, “Ok. Villain is me. How did he act in the dream and every time I went to my imagination?” Spike asked himself out loud, before frowning and furrowing his brow, “Like a foal… great. I’ve got a foalish, overconfident villain, and that’s just copying me!” Spike grumbled with a grimace as he chomped down the other half of his emerald, “That’s kinda bad… maybe he just needs a bit of refinement? He’s clever at least, that’s a feature any good villain needs!”

Grabbing another emerald as he mulled the gem chunks over his waiting tongue, his brain continued on the train of thought, thinking about villains and what made them good, “A good villain needs a reason to be one… Lady Rarity is a good reason, isn’t she? Would I turn evil if it meant she’d be with me?” He crushed the emerald in his hand with a motion of his guillotine jaw and fangs, considering the option, “Nah, Twilight would come after me, writing some speech on the way,” He chuckled at the thought of Twilight racing through Ponyville after his dastardly double, shouting something about a very scathing letter to be sent to the Princess about him, “Then Princess Celestia would get involved, and, well… that’d just end badly for everypony.”

“Morning, Spiiiike,” A voice moaned from the door, and he turned to see the frazzled form of Twilight. Signs of yet another crazed night of research shone through in her saggy, half-closed eyes and ragged mane and tail; somepony didn’t care how she woke up, apparently.

“Morning. I did some thinking about the story last night,” Spike chucked the last of his emerald into the air, it bouncing off his nose during its free fall and, thankfully, landing in his open mouth. He rubbed his nose while chewing on the sour morsel, each chew providing more shock for the brain to wake him up, “Like a cup of coffee, only ten times better! Makes me wish everypony was a dragon; emeralds make a great breakfast!”

“I’m sure they do…but coffee’ll do for us regular ponies, I suppose,” Twilight managed a short smirk as she dragged herself over to the other side of the table, sitting down and placing her head between her hooves.

“Something on your mind?” Spike grabbed another emerald as he raised an eyebrow, chomping down on it as he leaned on the table.

“I’m trying to invent a new spell combining teleportation and matter reformation; don’t worry about the terms, it’s making about as much sense to me as it does to you. It’s wreaking havoc on my brain…” Twilight let out a defeated groan, looking wearily up at her assistant from the table.

“There’s always the Princess. Teachers help their students on tough questions, right?” Spike finished off the emerald, grabbing another from the dwindling pile.

“I know, but this is a revolutionary spell, and I want to conquer it on my own. I might take a trip to Canterlot, see some of the material in the Archives… maybe somepony before me tried to make the same spell, took a different approach that I haven’t seen?” Twilight looked over at the dragon, hoping for some kind of answer from him. After receiving a few blinks of confusion and a quirk of his mouth in response, she got up from the table to make herself breakfast, “Well, just thought I should let you know, right?”

“Yeah, still, talking to me about magic is like talking to Rainbow Dash about subtlety,” Spike grinned as he got a chuckle out of Twilight. She's had a rough night... a good laugh is always a great way to start the morning any day.

“Too true. So, you mentioned your story, how’s that going?” Twilight drew some materials from the fridge, all coming out in a large purple aura.

“Pretty well, actually; thought up a pretty good villain, something of a plot, and my first setting,” Spike made a prideful smirk, tossing another emerald into his mouth. He poured himself a glass of milk, smashing the gem in his mouth to dust as Twilight set about prepping the area before her for a sandwich.

“First setting, eh? Where is it?”

“Las Pegasus.”

“The City of Sin, huh… sounds like the right place to start off a story about a gambler down on his luck.”

Bread, condiments and several flowers floated around in front of Twilight as she set about making the morning fuel for her brain, Spike watching in half-interest as he slurped from his glass of milk. He stared up at the ceiling, letting his thoughts wander in the delicious river of milk as he imagined the neon-lit streets of Las Pegasus, ponies coming and going, shouting about their crazy good luck, getting into bar fights, sometimes a combination of the two. “Maybe I’ll go there someday…”

“Ahhh, no. Las Pegasus isn’t the place for a baby dragon,” Twilight raised her eyebrow as she turned around, bringing a completed daisy-and-mustard sandwich to the table. Ahhh, my favorite kickstarter for the day! Daisies to fill the stomach for the day, and mustard to give me that wake-up jolt! Alright, sandwich, prepare to meet your maker... me! She grinned down at the helpless sandwich in her grip, the scent of the mustard already getting her gears turning.

“C’mon Twilight, I’ve gotta go to the place that’ll be the setting for my story!” Spike grimaced as tapped the table with his fist, grabbing the last emerald on his plate and tearing half of it off.

“It’s a city of casinos, bars, drunks and other riff-raff; you think I want a drunk dragon coming home after a week?” Twilight simply shook her head, sitting down at the table.

“I’m not old enough to drink, you know that. I just wanna go there to study the Strip, see what buildings are there.”

“Still, no. They don’t call it the City of Sin for nothing, Spike,” Twilight said in a motherly tone, as if dealing with a child who just couldn’t sit down and accept what she was saying.

Spike sighed, taking his milk in a claw and downing half of it in one glug, “Do you have any books on the city then?”

“The library carries a lot of historical books, fictional stories, and auto-biographies. I’m pretty sure that somepony wrote about a trip to Las Pegasus, and you might find it here if you look hard enough,” Twilight rubbed her chin as she thought of where such a book might be, ignoring the tasty sandwich in front of her. She looked over at Castle Twilight and sighed, “I remember going through the auto-biographical section for research material…”

“Don’t you usually go into the History and Magic sections for that?” Spike sipped his milk, following her gaze to the monolithic walls of the bastion facing them.

“Yeah, usually, but I heard about a famous unicorn travelling abroad who wrote a book on various magical formulae he learned during his travels. It was an auto-biography, so I went through the whole section looking for it… what was the title?” Twilight looked at the ceiling as she finally remembered her sandwich, taking a bite before the shock of mustard lit her up, “GAH! Too much mustard!”

Spike laughed at the puckered face of the librarian, thinking about what could be going on in her mind right now. Probably spells to neutralize a strong acid or something, he slammed his mouth shut, trying to hold down his laughter. To his surprise, Twilight’s horn lit up and surrounded her head in a bubble for a few moments before bursting, Twilight sighing in relief. “That took care of it…”

“Wait, what spell was that?”

“Acid neutralization.”

Spike eyes widened as he tilted his head. Dh-I-I was right? He couldn't even believe the notion of such a thought.

“I guess there’s a first for everything…” He mumbled to himself as he finished off the milk, wiping his mouth, “Well, what else can I take care of before setting?”

“You could try and think of a plot line,” Twilight suggested as she took a cautious bite, her face puckering up with a groan of anguish as the acidic mustard assaulted her tastebuds and cheeks. She clenched her eyes shut, trying to fight through the pain, moaning as the sting slowly dredged away, “Yep… not gonna finish this thing, am I?”

Spike shook his head with a smirk, “You need the food, Twi’, and tossing out a good sandwich isn’t good.”

“As if I need a lecture from you, Mr. Devour Every Gem In Sight, you hardly need all the food you dump into your stomach every day,” Twilight replied with the same smirk.

“Hey, I’m a growing dragon, and dragons need food, don’t we? Split it in half, I’ll take some; brain’s still kinda fuzzy anyway,” Spike dropped out of his chair and walked around to the other side of the table. After carefully considering the current shape of the sandwich, Twilight carefully cut it in two perfect halves, handing one half to Spike as she took another bite out of hers. Spike looks down at the sandwich, wondering what could be so bad about a ton of mustard. Ah, probably nothing. Down the hatch! He thought, and dove right into the sandwich with a large bite.

He immediately regretted it as something between getting stabbed in the cheek and having a ton of powdered emeralds dumped into his mouth attacked his tongue like a bunch of angry ponies going to war against a castle. “Hnngh!”

“See?” Twilight said with a smirk, not lasting long before being replaced by a pained grimace as she swallowed her food.

“Jeeze, you weren’t kidding! That’s way too much! Should probably check that bottle,” Spike groaned as he rubbed his cheek, looking at the menacing yellow bottle on the counter as if it were a weapon of mass cheek destruction, “That mustard is too dangerous to be in pony hooves…”

“I’ll be sure to send it to the Princess to make sure it doesn’t fall into the hooves of somepony with less-than-noble intentions,” Twilight giggled. Finishing off her sandwich with a groan and a grimace, she walked out of the kitchen to start work on disassembling her fortress. Spike decided to get it over with in one go as he tossed the remains of the sandwich into his mouth, and he dropped to his knees as the taste struck out with furious abandon, relentlessly tearing into his cheeks. His face turned red as he battled for dominance, but eventually it faded away, letting him exhale in a slow sigh, the first feelings of relief trickling in.

“Another fight is won by Spike the Brave!” Spike shouted with a smirk as he hopped up and walked into the library, which had already become a hurricane of books flying every which way as Twilight organized them. How can Twilight stay focused on her levitation while putting the books back in their proper places?

“It’s like the Pinkie Sense… something you just have to accept as true, I guess,” Spike sighed with a shrug as a frustrated groan escaped Twilight, one of her ears frantically flicking.

“Don’t mention that!” She shouted, the books still flying about in their crazed storm.

“Right, sorry,” Spike grinned apologetically as he walked over to his writing desk in the middle of the room. Ducking a few times to gather his supplies, and dodge a few book missiles, he finally started writing down his ideas, “Ok… Las Pegasus is the first setting. What should the casino beeee?” Spike mumbled as he tapped the paper with his quill, leaning on his other claw, “The Big Bit? Nah, sounds like they’d be handing out five-foot chips made of lead… Gold Bar Casino? Instead of paying you in bits, they give you gold nuggets!” Spike smirked, then drooled slightly, “Mmmm… gold. Way more chewy than gems, but it’s like a delicacy; smooth and sweet with a bitter aftertaste. Sticks to your teeth though…” He said with a grimace, scratching between two of his fangs with a claw to get some bread still stuck between his teeth out.

Dodging another book flying at him, Spike saw the cloud of books around Twilight finally thinning out, some of her biggest ammunition still in the cloud; dictionaries. Oh boy... if one of those hits me, it's lights out Spike! He quickly took cover behind his desk as a book flew overhead, “It’s always the dictionaries that hit you,” He said with a shake of his head, one of the massive tomes moving sluggishly by, “Why does Twilight have a dictionary on Olde Equestrian?”

“Helps me write to Luna; I like to send the occasional letter when I’m writing my friendship reports to Princess Celestia. She still uses the old dialect, so I use that old dictionary to help me write in a language that’s easier for her to understand,” Twilight stuck her tongue out in concentration as Spike lifted his head up over the desk, the hurricane of books finally gone. He sighed in relief, having survived the storm, and returned to his seat.

“I didn’t know you wrote to Princess Luna,” Spike leaned back in his chair, looking over at his friend.

“The seals look the same, so I’d be kind of surprised if you did,” Twilight grinned, walking over to Spike, “So, nothing planned for today?”

“I thought about it as I was waking up and nothing came to me. Thinking about it now, I think it was just getting some more ink from the local market… we don’t need quills, do we?”

“Nor do we need sofas; I’ve got a pile of them in the basement,” Twilight smirked, still slightly confused by how a pony could sell quills and sofas in the same shop, and why they’d choose such a strange inventory, “You can write out your setting ideas then head out. I’m going to keep working at that spell; I know I’m on the verge of a breakthrough!” Twilight triumphantly spoke with a determined nod, firing up her horn as she turned around, “I’m also on the verge of a breakthrough of how to build castles using books! My Northern wall was tilted a bit though…”

Spike rolled his eyes as they both set to their tasks, his imagination quickly taking over as he fell back into that white world again. He blinked and looked around, seeing only Hot Shot there waiting for him, “Hey, where’s Evil Me?”

Hot Shot replied with a shrug, looking around. He blinked in absent confusion before turning back to Spike.

“It’s gonna be really hard to talk to you if you don’t have a voice… what’s a proper voice for you to use though?” Spike asked himself as he folded his arms. He stroked his chin in thought as Hot Shot drew circles in the ground with his hoof, either bored with waiting, or simply not interested in finally being able to talk, “Voice… voice… well, who can I use as a base?” He blinked as he looked up at Hot Shot, who returned a half-interested stare, “Can you say something for me?”

“Alright. How about this, then? Why do I sound like a mare?” Hot Shot asked in Twilight’s voice, and Spike almost immediately broke down into a laugh, barely saving himself with a harsh hit made to his expression.

“Sorry…I guess the voice I knew best came up,” Spike said, letting a few laughs out. The voice doesn't fit him at all; this tall stud sounding like Twilight? Maybe when I'm writing some crazy comedy

“Ok, ok, ahem… try this one.”

“Ahem, the Lucky and Amazing Hot Shot demands he stop sounding like a mare!” Hot Shot spoke in a pompous manner, tilting his nose up in an equally noble way.

“Too familiar,” Spike answered with a grimace, thinking, “How about… this one?”

“Oh yeah, this makes me sound way better!” Hot Shot immediately belted out in a roar as he leaned into Spike’s face, flexing his forelegs with titanic effort to show off his muscles, “Hot Shot guarantees this voice will make your story amazing, or he will personally go out and wrestle the whiny reader, into submission!!”

“Woah!”

“Oh… sorry,” The stallion immediately looked down, using a small, meek mare’s voice.

“Well…” Spike said as he fell on his rear, sticking a finger in his ear, “It’s better than that other voice…” He rubbed it after pulling his finger out, shaking his head to get that infernal ringing out.

“Maybe… maybe we should… well… focus on the plotline… if… if you don’t mind…” Hot Shot drew a small circle in the ground, more than just the voice coming through, apparently.

“Yeah… I’ll fix your voice soon, but the plot comes first. Let’s see…” Spike folded his arms and started pacing, eyes locked on the floor as he sub-consciously counted his steps, “Alright, so, gambler who gambles all his money away. The policy at a casino is usually… what? Throw you out?”

“Well… I think… things can get a little more, um… violent…”

“That’s true…alright, so you’re gambling. What’s the problem with using your own money, right? In order to get in trouble, you’d have to borrow money from the wrong ponies,” A suited pony popped up in front of the dragon in response. The pony sported a brown coat, a white-gold mane, and a look in his eye that suggested he’d make all your dreams come true for the right price, “Let’s say that you’ve got a problem, hopping from casino to casino looking for your big break, and the bad ponies keep lending you money. You say you’re good for it, yet keep wasting it… they come looking for their money, throw a couple threats around, and you’ve got to leave town. Travelling for a while, you come to Ponyville and meet some of the local ponies.”

“You owes us some money, bub, time youse paid up,” The mysterious pony said with a heavy Booklyn accent, a toothpick appearing in his mouth, “Time’s up.”

“I… I’ll g-get you your money… I just… just need more time,” Hot Shot quivered, sweat falling like bombshells from his face to the ground as he stared at the other pony’s hooves.

“Da Boss ain’t got no more time t’ give; youse said you was gonna pay up, now pay up!” The other pony shouted, stepping forward. Spike backed off, everything about this pony setting off warning lights in the little dragon’s head; even in his imagination, the right pony could scare him!

“I… I-I can’t pay…” Hot Shot backed away from the advancing thug, even more scared than Spike.

“Then we got a problem… a big problem,” The pony adjusted the toothpick in his mouth as a devious smile crossed his face.

“This is good…” Spike mumbled to himself, watching the scene play out as a smile slowly grew on his face, “This isn’t good… this is perfect! A gambler with a problem goes to a loan shark, keeps taking money and wasting it all on gambling! It's brilliant!!” He jumped up in utter joy, the world falling apart around him as he returned to the library, “Twilight! I’ve got i-“

It took a bit for him, but he finally registered that he was, in fact, speaking to a book. Not just any book, but a Daring Do novel; ‘Knights of the Lost Ark’, to be exact. He looked up at the ever-growing wall of books, all ranging from reference tomes to dictionaries to the occasional fictional work, “… Another Castle Twilight?”

“Ohhh… why is this spell so difficult?!” Another book fell into rank with the others constructing the impenetrable wall; looking along it, Spike saw the beginnings of a castle tower, “It’s teleportation! A field that I know front to back! Why can’t I figure out mass movement of objects?!”

“Better just… let her work that out,” Spike whispered to himself, looking back at the paper, “Maybe somepony can help me think… I’ve got the beginning of a plot worked out, so maybe I should move on to characters? I’ve got my first setting, that being Las Pegasus… got my first plot point, being borrowing from the loan sharks, and I’ve got my characters. Personality and voice… well, only one pony to go to concerning ‘personality’,” Spike smirked, thinking of a certain mare with an overbearing personality, “Then maybe I’ll walk around town, see if I can make a voice for Hot Shot and Evil Spike… sounds good.”

Spike methodically wrote down the short list of points he’d made during his trip through his imagination, and filed the paper and supplies away in the desk. He hopped off his chair and moved along to a rather well-constructed archway in the wall, moving through, “Is that a cloak and crown?”

“It’s Castle Twilight; why can’t I wear a crown?” Twilight asked back, looking at Spike from behind her rather over-sized golden crown and regal cloak, reading book after book before sending them into eternal service as pieces of her castle wall.

“Your North wall’s a bit short,” Spike pointed to the top of the wall, about three layers of books shorter than the others. Twilight growled in frustration, moving some dictionaries off the East wall to compensate.

“Great, now I’m going to be doing this all day… I’ve got science to be doing!” Twilight grumbled in frustration, moving books around. Spike chuckled a bit as he heads for the door through another, larger archway; Must be the main entrance to Queen Twilight's throne room, heh...

“I’m heading out, Twilight! Off to study for my story!”

“Alright, have fun! And be back in time for lunch! Or it’s off to the dungeons with you!” Twilight shouted with a commanding tone before putting on a friendly smile.

“Will do, Your Highness,” Spike spoke with a bow before heading out of the library, leaving Twilight to her duties of fixing her castle and figuring out whatever crazy spell she’s trying to invent.

Time to go bother a certain baker pony…