Fluffy Stuff (Not to be confused with that cotton candy)
Jul 13, 2013 8:17:58 GMT -5
Tiger, ♥ Azzie, and 2 more like this
Post by Mostly Harmless (flufflepuff) on Jul 13, 2013 8:17:58 GMT -5
So I asked an old fogey if I could put the random stuff I write here. I'm going to give it to you straight: Writing prose, for me, is painfully slow and difficult. If I have to make it rhyme, it won't be as much of a problem, as I find poetry slightly easier to write.
A lot of this will be mafia2-based flufffiction, but nothing too much for the NTWF.
...This first piece is no exception.
((Assuming you know about the Wafflenet mafia story...well, if you don't, just ask.))
It came around about ten days ago when Tiger asked ‘dang, if fluffle somehow died...again, what kind of freaky anger-ghost would Mick turn into?’ o.o
We got so emotional thinking what each ghost would do without the other that we had to write happy endings for it. I am not at liberty to disclose Tiger's, so here is mine!
Fluffle slammed a hoof on the desk. Half a millennium she’d scoured the globe, exterminating crime where she'd seen it, getting shot at, burned, shaved, poisoned, and shaved again in the process, and this…this /demon/ was telling her to quit?!
Metastophelous frowned, his four red eyes glowing. That desk was made of pure pernambuco, and it now had a hoof-mark in it that looked very difficult to buff out. His tall ears twitched. “Listen carefully, Miss Puff,” he said in a dangerously low whisper. “The past 500 years have been hell with the paperwork—“ he paused, marveling. “Oh, I can say ‘hell’ now, too. Fantastic. Thane and I let you have this much time after...” He leaned over the desk toward the leering pony. “And yes, I’m sorry for your loss. However, other parolees have similar compromises as Micky boy did, and you’re working time off for /them/ instead of ‘serving for his memory’ as you intended. Why—“ Meta turned up a knob on a machine on his desk, and tapped a microphone. “ELAINE here is guilty of SLOTH as well as MURDER--and that’s TERRIBLE.” He turned the knob back down.
Fluffle growled and put her other fore-hoof on Meta's desk. She had to continue with her work. Mick was gone, and for the first 10 years after he’d left the universe, she proved useless to everyone, becoming a mere husk of a pony. She’d forfeited the bakery immediately, and set to wandering the driest lands in the world, watering them as she slowly floated by. The forlorn pony realized this course of action was ridiculous to carry on for more than a decade. After much deliberation with Thane, Fluffle was allowed to do the missions that would have been assigned to Mick had he been alive. Four hundred and ninety years later, that answer had changed? Fluffle didn’t think so. She narrowed her eyes. The pony opened her mouth to say something, but was silenced by a claw.
“Look, don’t get me wrong, your risking your afterlife is heartwarming and all, but the Plot Non-Derailment Division is going haywire because of you. Besides,” he wheeled his chair around to dig through a file cabinet. "You’ve got to move on with your afterlife.” He moved forward again to scratch her behind the ear, and she recoiled. Fluffle wasn’t a very touchy pony these days.
"Enough is enough, pony!" Meta slammed his claws onto the desk, scratching it. Fluffle blinked. That was incredible speed at which his voice changed from a mere whisper to a guttural screech. It took on a strange, hellish tone, as though half of it went deeper than she had thought possible. He continued, "Do you think you're the only being in the universe?! Well, NEWSFLASH, fluffy, you're not! Mick's passing is taking a toll on more people than just you, and that should be reason enough to NOT PUT HOLES IN DESKS MADE OF ENDANGERED WOOD!"
Fluffle hung her head, all confidence gone. She nuzzled one of his claws in understanding. The demon softened his expression and sighed. "Sweetheart...just go. Live your afterlife for your sake as well as ours." She bowed her head, turned tail, and left without a word.
Outside of the office, a large, golden alicorn waited, curled up with the 600th issue of Mare of the Month Club. Fluffle stomped past him, too ruffled to greet him. Thane looked up and dropped the magazine as he caught up to her. "How did you fare? I heard you gave his desk what for," he teased, nudging her.
Fluffle said nothing. Gears were turning in her almost-criminal mind. If Meta wouldn't send her on a mission--Thane didn't do anything of the sort, and that's why he was here with her--then by Celestia she would take on a mission of her own. Ghostly blood would be shed, snarled Fluffle to herself.
Something brushed against her skin as she stormed out of Purgatory, Inc.. Fluffle stopped in her tracks, immediately knowing what it was. She pulled it out of her fluff with caution, so as not to disturb it. The sheet of laminated paper containing a half-eaten yellow rose lay on her hoof, its corners in perfect condition. Fluffle placed her great horsey lips on it, remembering when it was bestowed upon her, then carefully put it into her fluff again.
Thane put a golden hoof on her shoulder. "You still miss him, don't you, Miss Puff? After all these years...?" He murmured, forgetting all about the mares in the magazine. Fluffle nodded without looking at him.
"Miss Puff." She refused to look at the large alicorn. She knew what he was going to ask. "You know what I'm going to ask. So?" Fluffle said nothing, her mind working to remember where there had been an influx of crime. Weren't there a bunch of rascals painting Tabloid Town?
"Fluffle!" Thane stamped a hoof. "When I ask a question, Miss Puff, I expect an answer. Besides," he ruffled his immense wings and lowered his voice. "I have something for you up there. Just...just try. Come with me. You were meant to be up there. You were destined for Pony Heaven the moment you died." Thane breathed serenely, his long lashes blinking. "I have a proposal: If you don't like it, you may take whatever you want, and go back until you change your mind." The alicorn's endless patience reached Fluffle. She wiped her eyes--which were NOT moist, by the way--and nodded, emitting an exasperated sigh.
Thane knelt. "Go on, Miss Puff." Fluffle mounted him, her fur enveloping half of his wings. The alicorn chuckled. "That tickles, Fluffle!" He teased, butting her head gently with his own.
Fluffle was only slightly swayed from her grief. Thane was so enduring, nothing fazed him--she was lucky she had him as her guardian. A bit /too/ calm at times, and prone to be easily distracted by cute mares his age, but nonetheless.
Fluffle's mind raced. She'd spend a few minutes at wherever he was taking her, and she would find a way to escape and head to Tabloid Town, to battle all sorts of havoc and to remind herself of what Mick did for her...
Fluffle was blinded by flashes of white, different shades of white, without a hint of grey. She blinked slowly, trying to adjust her eyes. "Welcome, Miss Puff." She blinked, but could see no ponies in the whiteness. The expanse had a misty quality to it, as if she was on a very high mountain.
Fluffle dismounted Thane, her hooves sinking a few inches into the cloud. It wasn't much different than stepping into her own fluff after she blew her coat. Fluffle shivered, wishing for solid gr--oh, there it was. She stepped onto the smooth pavement, grateful to be off the fluffy clouds.
Thane gestured to the vast expanse of glowing whiteness. "Go on and explore, then. I'll be waiting."
Where were all the other ponies? And what did Thane say he had for her? She narrowed her eyes and stepped gingerly into the whiteness. She would be wary of any and all sounds, all potential tricks that ponies liked to play on her--what was that?!
Fluffle bared her teeth, ready to attack whoever was coming her way. Voices didn't lie...but this one was getting awfully good at it. It almost sounded like it was calling her name, and reminded her strongly of--
Fluffle squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her hooves over her ears. No, no, no, this mirage could not really exist! She thought she'd gotten past these hallucinations centuries ago! She had to be stronger, she had to fight...!
But no, the voice was getting louder and what was worse, it was accompanied by...a bearer emerging through the mists.
This person looked so much like him, she thought, opening an eye. Fluffle shut it stubbornly, fully convinced that he would go away once she opened both of her eyes.
"Fluffle?" The pony felt fingers behind her ear, scratching her just like...no she couldn't think of that! She'd go to pieces if she kept thinking... Whoever this apparition was seemed to be bent on torturing her.
She pushed the stranger away with her forehooves, struggling not to break. What kind of pony heaven was this?!
Fluffle opened her eyes. This Mick doppelgänger--he looked hurt. "Fluffle?" He called out softly. "Don't you recognize me?" His eyes shone with sorrow, the same kind of sorrow she had had to endure for so many endless years...
Recognize him! With a high-pitched whinny, she galloped forward and flung her forehooves around Mick, kissing him over and over and burying him in her fur. Tears streamed down her slightly fuzzy face and stained Mick's sweater. It was really him. He was with her--he actually touched her, kissed her back, had an arm around her waist just like he had so long ago!
She sobbed into his sweater, her voice muffled in the fabric that still had a faint scent of flour. When she was able to open her eyes and see just a little more clearly through her shroud of tears, she looked at Mick's face. His eyes still shone, sharing her joy as well as her pain. Not many words were needed as the couple embraced each other, fully comprehending and remembering the years they'd spent apart!
"I'm here, Fluff," Mick murmured as he buried his face and arms in the pony's mane. "I'm here."
A lot of this will be mafia2-based flufffiction, but nothing too much for the NTWF.
...This first piece is no exception.
((Assuming you know about the Wafflenet mafia story...well, if you don't, just ask.))
It came around about ten days ago when Tiger asked ‘dang, if fluffle somehow died...again, what kind of freaky anger-ghost would Mick turn into?’ o.o
We got so emotional thinking what each ghost would do without the other that we had to write happy endings for it. I am not at liberty to disclose Tiger's, so here is mine!
Fluffle slammed a hoof on the desk. Half a millennium she’d scoured the globe, exterminating crime where she'd seen it, getting shot at, burned, shaved, poisoned, and shaved again in the process, and this…this /demon/ was telling her to quit?!
Metastophelous frowned, his four red eyes glowing. That desk was made of pure pernambuco, and it now had a hoof-mark in it that looked very difficult to buff out. His tall ears twitched. “Listen carefully, Miss Puff,” he said in a dangerously low whisper. “The past 500 years have been hell with the paperwork—“ he paused, marveling. “Oh, I can say ‘hell’ now, too. Fantastic. Thane and I let you have this much time after...” He leaned over the desk toward the leering pony. “And yes, I’m sorry for your loss. However, other parolees have similar compromises as Micky boy did, and you’re working time off for /them/ instead of ‘serving for his memory’ as you intended. Why—“ Meta turned up a knob on a machine on his desk, and tapped a microphone. “ELAINE here is guilty of SLOTH as well as MURDER--and that’s TERRIBLE.” He turned the knob back down.
Fluffle growled and put her other fore-hoof on Meta's desk. She had to continue with her work. Mick was gone, and for the first 10 years after he’d left the universe, she proved useless to everyone, becoming a mere husk of a pony. She’d forfeited the bakery immediately, and set to wandering the driest lands in the world, watering them as she slowly floated by. The forlorn pony realized this course of action was ridiculous to carry on for more than a decade. After much deliberation with Thane, Fluffle was allowed to do the missions that would have been assigned to Mick had he been alive. Four hundred and ninety years later, that answer had changed? Fluffle didn’t think so. She narrowed her eyes. The pony opened her mouth to say something, but was silenced by a claw.
“Look, don’t get me wrong, your risking your afterlife is heartwarming and all, but the Plot Non-Derailment Division is going haywire because of you. Besides,” he wheeled his chair around to dig through a file cabinet. "You’ve got to move on with your afterlife.” He moved forward again to scratch her behind the ear, and she recoiled. Fluffle wasn’t a very touchy pony these days.
"Enough is enough, pony!" Meta slammed his claws onto the desk, scratching it. Fluffle blinked. That was incredible speed at which his voice changed from a mere whisper to a guttural screech. It took on a strange, hellish tone, as though half of it went deeper than she had thought possible. He continued, "Do you think you're the only being in the universe?! Well, NEWSFLASH, fluffy, you're not! Mick's passing is taking a toll on more people than just you, and that should be reason enough to NOT PUT HOLES IN DESKS MADE OF ENDANGERED WOOD!"
Fluffle hung her head, all confidence gone. She nuzzled one of his claws in understanding. The demon softened his expression and sighed. "Sweetheart...just go. Live your afterlife for your sake as well as ours." She bowed her head, turned tail, and left without a word.
Outside of the office, a large, golden alicorn waited, curled up with the 600th issue of Mare of the Month Club. Fluffle stomped past him, too ruffled to greet him. Thane looked up and dropped the magazine as he caught up to her. "How did you fare? I heard you gave his desk what for," he teased, nudging her.
Fluffle said nothing. Gears were turning in her almost-criminal mind. If Meta wouldn't send her on a mission--Thane didn't do anything of the sort, and that's why he was here with her--then by Celestia she would take on a mission of her own. Ghostly blood would be shed, snarled Fluffle to herself.
Something brushed against her skin as she stormed out of Purgatory, Inc.. Fluffle stopped in her tracks, immediately knowing what it was. She pulled it out of her fluff with caution, so as not to disturb it. The sheet of laminated paper containing a half-eaten yellow rose lay on her hoof, its corners in perfect condition. Fluffle placed her great horsey lips on it, remembering when it was bestowed upon her, then carefully put it into her fluff again.
Thane put a golden hoof on her shoulder. "You still miss him, don't you, Miss Puff? After all these years...?" He murmured, forgetting all about the mares in the magazine. Fluffle nodded without looking at him.
"Miss Puff." She refused to look at the large alicorn. She knew what he was going to ask. "You know what I'm going to ask. So?" Fluffle said nothing, her mind working to remember where there had been an influx of crime. Weren't there a bunch of rascals painting Tabloid Town?
"Fluffle!" Thane stamped a hoof. "When I ask a question, Miss Puff, I expect an answer. Besides," he ruffled his immense wings and lowered his voice. "I have something for you up there. Just...just try. Come with me. You were meant to be up there. You were destined for Pony Heaven the moment you died." Thane breathed serenely, his long lashes blinking. "I have a proposal: If you don't like it, you may take whatever you want, and go back until you change your mind." The alicorn's endless patience reached Fluffle. She wiped her eyes--which were NOT moist, by the way--and nodded, emitting an exasperated sigh.
Thane knelt. "Go on, Miss Puff." Fluffle mounted him, her fur enveloping half of his wings. The alicorn chuckled. "That tickles, Fluffle!" He teased, butting her head gently with his own.
Fluffle was only slightly swayed from her grief. Thane was so enduring, nothing fazed him--she was lucky she had him as her guardian. A bit /too/ calm at times, and prone to be easily distracted by cute mares his age, but nonetheless.
Fluffle's mind raced. She'd spend a few minutes at wherever he was taking her, and she would find a way to escape and head to Tabloid Town, to battle all sorts of havoc and to remind herself of what Mick did for her...
Fluffle was blinded by flashes of white, different shades of white, without a hint of grey. She blinked slowly, trying to adjust her eyes. "Welcome, Miss Puff." She blinked, but could see no ponies in the whiteness. The expanse had a misty quality to it, as if she was on a very high mountain.
Fluffle dismounted Thane, her hooves sinking a few inches into the cloud. It wasn't much different than stepping into her own fluff after she blew her coat. Fluffle shivered, wishing for solid gr--oh, there it was. She stepped onto the smooth pavement, grateful to be off the fluffy clouds.
Thane gestured to the vast expanse of glowing whiteness. "Go on and explore, then. I'll be waiting."
Where were all the other ponies? And what did Thane say he had for her? She narrowed her eyes and stepped gingerly into the whiteness. She would be wary of any and all sounds, all potential tricks that ponies liked to play on her--what was that?!
Fluffle bared her teeth, ready to attack whoever was coming her way. Voices didn't lie...but this one was getting awfully good at it. It almost sounded like it was calling her name, and reminded her strongly of--
Fluffle squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her hooves over her ears. No, no, no, this mirage could not really exist! She thought she'd gotten past these hallucinations centuries ago! She had to be stronger, she had to fight...!
But no, the voice was getting louder and what was worse, it was accompanied by...a bearer emerging through the mists.
This person looked so much like him, she thought, opening an eye. Fluffle shut it stubbornly, fully convinced that he would go away once she opened both of her eyes.
"Fluffle?" The pony felt fingers behind her ear, scratching her just like...no she couldn't think of that! She'd go to pieces if she kept thinking... Whoever this apparition was seemed to be bent on torturing her.
She pushed the stranger away with her forehooves, struggling not to break. What kind of pony heaven was this?!
Fluffle opened her eyes. This Mick doppelgänger--he looked hurt. "Fluffle?" He called out softly. "Don't you recognize me?" His eyes shone with sorrow, the same kind of sorrow she had had to endure for so many endless years...
Recognize him! With a high-pitched whinny, she galloped forward and flung her forehooves around Mick, kissing him over and over and burying him in her fur. Tears streamed down her slightly fuzzy face and stained Mick's sweater. It was really him. He was with her--he actually touched her, kissed her back, had an arm around her waist just like he had so long ago!
She sobbed into his sweater, her voice muffled in the fabric that still had a faint scent of flour. When she was able to open her eyes and see just a little more clearly through her shroud of tears, she looked at Mick's face. His eyes still shone, sharing her joy as well as her pain. Not many words were needed as the couple embraced each other, fully comprehending and remembering the years they'd spent apart!
"I'm here, Fluff," Mick murmured as he buried his face and arms in the pony's mane. "I'm here."
