|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
The other brother-ch.6“Who are you?” an infiltrating newcomer growled
“Who are you?” Star Swirl retorted
“I asked you first.”
“I asked you second.”
“He's Star Swirled...the Bearded!” Shaded Flash jutted his horn to the beard on his unshaved brother. Star Swirled penalized him with golden daggers of his own.
The conversation continued mainly like this on who let him in here and what mainly. Like a childish or girlish hate conversation leaving the younger brother confused.
“Okay...” Star Swirled growled, then looked at the enemy menacingly
“Just what do you want?”
“I want...” the other pony replied, “To study here. Whenever I want, for as long as I want.”
“Fine,” Star Swirled stated, even though his words cut like stone
“But know this. I...do not like you.”
“I feel indifferent towards you.” The newcomer replied, adjusting his glasses.
The other brother-ch. 5The awkwardness began to seep through Shaded Flash’s home. The semester didn’t end for another ten weeks, so five (school days in a week) times ten weeks equaled fifty more days of awkwardness. Tonight was a teachers’ banquet, forcing the five foals to come along with their father, or more likely, Shaded Flash’s chemistry teacher.
Star Swirled filed out of the farmhouse, leading Shaded Flash, Lightning Rod, Aero Stride, and Winter Blue, clutched onto Aero Stride’s short thing-of-a-tail.
The walk took around 45 minutes to the banquet hall itself; there was no rain though to stain the trotting family.
The History teacher, Dewdrop Festival greeted my father with an open hoof-shake. Night Owl the Language teacher hoof-bumped my father when meeting him, calling him by nicknames. Even the strict physical-education teacher, Silver Mayweather was delighted to see him; she hadn’t seemed to smile in almost 20 years since the death of her husband.
High Dive was
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
Keep in Touch!