Tiny Twilight


                                            >"Who even writes stories in pencil anymore, Anon?"

                                            "Shut up."

                                            >You continue brooding over the piece of paper, trying to pointedly ignore the small purple equine slowly pacing between the lines, reading letter for giant letter to follow your writing.

                                            >You know you're not exactly good at it, but you like doing it, enjoying the change of pace from your other hobbies and letting out some of your creative urges without embarrassing yourself too much.

                                            >You could do without Twilight’s constant nagging and her hang for correcting your mistakes, though.

                                            >"There's a comma missing here", she pipes up as if on cue, pointing her hoof toward the paper she's standing on with a dismissive gesture.

                                            >Picking up your mechanical pencil, you click it once and set down the tip next to your unbidden proofreader’s tiny body, correcting your grammatical offense.

                                            "Satisfied?" you ask in mock politeness, prompting a content nod from Twilight, the mare already on her way back across the page to start reading the next line.

                                            >"I’m not quite sure about the characterization in this chapter, though", she adds.

                                            >Seriously?

                                            >Why does she continue to do this?

                                            "It’s smut fanfiction, Twi. It’s not supposed to be great literature."

                                            >"That’s beside the point."

                                            >Twilight absentmindedly speaks while walking along the words.

                                            >"Whatever the content" - she pauses to shoot you a slightly scolding frown - "you are preparing to present your writing to other readers. It’s supposed to be believable and entertaining to read at least. You owe them that much."

                                            "Even if it’s just-"

                                            >"Even if it’s just about an unnamed protagonist screwing the brains out of an airheaded if lovable anthropomorphic horse girl, yes", the editor pony nods before walking back up the page to double check something or other a little earlier in the story.

                                            >"So far this seems like you’ve taken the exact same premise for every single scene and just altered the details of the actual intercourse slightly. And while your overall writing is admittedly not too bad, it does get boring after a while."

                                            >You follow Twilight’s wide motion across the other scattered pages on your desk, picking up some of them to reread your earlier chapters.

                                            >A few minutes pass in silence, only disturbed by the soft clacking of tiny hooves strolling over your writing.

                                            "I see what you’re saying", you grudgingly admit after a while, putting the stack of paper back down and picking up your pencil.

                                            "What would you have me write, then?"

                                            >"Hmm…"

                                            >Twilight puts one of her hooves to her chin in thought, looking over the landscape of words around her, trotting in a slow circle.

                                            >"How about introducing another character? There’s only so much smut you can write about one person but maybe another" - she coughs politely - "love interest can offer more variety? Maybe she could be a bit more reluctant, opening the door for rougher and more challenging scenes?"

                                            >That’s actually not bad, you have to admit, but also more complex than you’d planned on.

                                            "I don’t know if I’ll be able to convincingly write this, Twi."

                                            >"Don’t worry, Anon, I’m here to help", Twilight nods.

                                            >"Let’s just start with a basic character description for now."

                                            >You take out a fresh piece of paper to stat scribbling, letting your newly-minted co-author jump over from the old one.

                                            >Clicking your mechanical pencil again, you’re about to start writing when the tip of your lead breaks under the pressure of your newfound enthusiasm, cracking away in a myriad of splinters Twilight has to quickly jump away from.

                                            >"See?" the mare yells angrily.

                                            >"This is why nopony uses pencils for this!"

                                            "Yeah, yeah", you pull out the last pieces of the rod from the pencil’s tip.

                                            >Twilight is diligently clearing the surroundings from leftover carbon with her magic, levitating the shattered pieces into a neat stack to the side of the sheet.

                                            "Just hand me a new one, will you?"

                                            >"You’re getting ink and a quill for Christmas", she grunts while floating over a new piece of pencil lead bigger than her body.


                                            >"No, I’m pretty sure you have to cut it here. Not over there!"

                                            "Huh?"

                                            >You look up from the piece of pressed plastic and over to Twilight, the pony quickly galloping over the large sheet of assembly instructions for your newest acquisition.

                                            >It's a 1/35 scale tank model.

                                            >The lid of the oversized box is propped up in front of you, sporting the picture of the fully-assembled, fully-colored vehicle, the final product looking nothing at all like the sheets upon sheets of miniscule plastic parts you will have to cut and paint before reaching your goal.

                                            "That doesn’t look right."

                                            >You squint your eyes at the photograph, matching the forms you can identify to the pieces you’re trying to cut in your mind’s eye.

                                            "I’m pretty sure I’m doing this correctly."

                                            >"You’re not", comes the angry yell from next to you, "did you even look at this?"

                                            >The mare is wildly gesturing at the sheets of instructions, the words 'PANZERKAMPFWAGEN VI TIGER, AUSF. E' written in bold capital letters at the top.

                                            >She’s wearing a small paper hat you folded from a torn edge of the manual, her horn sticking out through a tiny hole you poked into it with the tip of your scissors.

                                            >She complained at first, explaining how this was serious business, but she seems to have grown accustomed to it by now.

                                            >That, or she’s simply forgotten about it due to being too busy to yell at you.

                                            >"That piece is not coming until later and you’re not supposed to cut it there!"

                                            >Typical Twilight, taking out all the fun by simply reading and following the instructions.

                                            >This is supposed to be an adventure.

                                            >An accomplishment.

                                            "Any moron can follow the recipe", you wave her off, positioning the blade again.

                                            >The tiny architect-in-training grunts in frustration.

                                            >"Because that’s what you’re SUPPOSED to do, Anon."

                                            "Nonsense. You’re supposed to find out how to do this by your own strength and intellect, like an explorer. Which I will do as soon as I figure out…"

                                            >You turn the plastic sheet by 90 degrees, then flip it over, all the while inspecting the image of the completed model on the box’s cover art.

                                            "…which way is up."

                                            >Twilight grunts again, sitting down in the center of the manual, folding her hooves in front of her chest.

                                            >"Fine, do it your way", she snarls, angrily adjusting her hat.

                                            >"Besides…"

                                            >Her expression turns from annoyed to amused, a tight, sly smile forming on her lips.

                                            >"I don’t think you COULD do it by the recipe even if you tried."

                                            "Yeah, yeah."

                                            >As if you’d ever fall for a taunt like that.

                                            >"You’d have to exert some pretty good visual thinking and grasp the concept of how these parts connect to each other."

                                            "Mhmm…"

                                            >"Plus, you’d have to be able to understand the layout of the sheets."

                                            "…"

                                            >"It’s probably best if you stick to your way of doing it."

                                            "Alright, give me that."

                                            >Pulling the spread-out paper with the pony sitting on top of it towards you, you angrily begin reading.

                                            >If she wants you to go the easy way, fine; you’ll oblige her and do this the uncomplicated, un-fun way and read the manual.

                                            >A couple of seconds pass, the mare attentively searching your face while you’re trying to get an overview of the process described below you.

                                            "…what the hell is this?"

                                            >The paper is full of charts, part numbers and confusing drawings, all arranged to fill out as much of the space on the sheet as possible, leading to the whole thing being utterly confusing and unintuitive.

                                            >"The instructions, Anon", Twilight states with a grin.

                                            >"The recipe every moron could follow easily."

                                            >You try to understand one of the cartoons depicting the process of cutting and bending a particular piece of plastic for what you can only assume is part of the turret, but you can’t even find where to begin with it, let alone find the corresponding part to cut out.

                                            >As far as you’re concerned, these may as well be instructions on how to build an IKEA shelf.

                                            >Or a bomb.

                                            >Your defeat must have shown in your expression, with Twilight all but gloating up at you.

                                            >"What’s up? Not so easy after all, is it?"

                                            "…No" you manage to press out.

                                            >"Well, if only you had somepony with you who’s managed to decipher even the most complex scrolls of Starswirl the Bearded’s own library. Somepony who has already figured out how to arrange the individual steps in the most efficient way and save time by dividing the work between the two of us."

                                            >You can’t help the sigh escaping your lips.

                                            >She’s got you.

                                            >Again.

                                            "Alright, Twi, where do we start?"

                                            >"That way!" Twilight beams while jumping up and galloping over to the mountains of plastic.

                                            >"You cut here and here", she points, drawing imaginary lines with her hooves, "and then you fold it over this way and glue it together with that one. I’ll be over here and lay this out."


                                            >You begin working, letting Twilight instruct you on what to do when, the unicorn guiding you like a foreman of a large construction site would, careful to step away and out of your reach when you’re picking up the scalpel and assisting you with holding up and laying out the pieces with her magic.

                                            >And contrary to your expectation, it’s actually fun to work through the manual with your friend.

                                            >Twilight seems to enjoy herself too, the mare focused on not letting any mistakes sneak up on the two of you, occasionally prompting you to turn a page of the instruction sheets so she can read ahead on what comes next.


                                            >It’s about two hours later when you finally put down the glue, admiring your handiwork with a tired smile.

                                            >The assembled, still colorless tank is sitting on the desk in front of you, an exhausted but smiling pony walking on top of it.

                                            >Her fur is smudged in some places from when you accidentally got her with a drop of glue here and there and her mane is tangled up and messy, but she’s smiling, carefully stepping along the hull and turret checking for any last mistakes.

                                            >She happily nods to herself before jumping down from the vehicle and brightly grinning up at you.

                                            "Thanks for the help, Twilight", you comment while carefully booping her tiny nose with your index finger.

                                            "Couldn’t have done it without you."