Spacegirl - Ch1: Inspiration

Spacegirl - Chapter 1
Inspiration
by Fluttershy/SunshineSmiles

Scootaloo awoke, the fresh morning lifting her out of her bed in Ponyville. She sighed softly, a very tiny wind in a high place. Insignificant.

That word plagued her. It came up in myriad ways. Lesser, nobody, the worst was worthless. That label stuck to her like burdock in her fetlocks, driving her to buck it off. In late middle school she'd taken up the art of practical drafting and became interested in architecture. Without her old plan in life, making new ones for others felt good.

Plans and drawings and half-done schemes papered the walls. Pictures of houses, street lamps, toys and steampunk clocks sat drafted on the white-on-blue-paper in the sunlight. They'd started as a hobby when she was a yearling, but the hobby turned into an asset, an asset into a career as a vital part of city planning for the Mayor of Manehatten.

… But a desk and a drafting table weren't high winds and adventure, and not nearly the life a Pegasus would hope for.

Her heart sank low in her chest. Her eyes watered softly. There was no mistaking how she couldn't be like her idol - not the right sinews, improper muscle growth, stunted avian bone structure. So many "harmless" words doctors like to use to say "you're broken." But the why? She didn't know why. She would never fly as great as Rainbow Dash. Or fly.

She peered out her window on her top floor, down onto the streets of Ponyville. She looked down to her flank, a Cutie Mark, one with a rocket and lightning bolt. Pasted over her orange skin, a symbol of her "failure" in what she thought was her destiny. That was always a lingering thought, that she couldn't fulfil her own "destiny."

She knew the how - you're broken, said in a different way by a doctor. She knew the when - just after her 13th birthday, just going to see how you're developing, sweetheart. After quite a few tests, the answer was she wasn't and never will.

The 'why' is what got her. Why her? Why not somepony else?

After the diagnosis she couldn't even ride her own scooter. It was deemed too "dangerous" to ride "given her condition." She couldn't scoot. With the placement of two short words - impidus pegasanus - her hopes, the freedom she felt on her rides around town, her style, gone. Walking - walking! - around Ponyville, with her pegasus parents after visiting the doctor's, it felt like she'd lost everything. At least she had Apple Bloom ...

Memory gave way to the present, but the question still remained, "Why can't I fly like her?" Scootaloo sighed dejectedly to the empty room. It was like looking for her "special purpose" and mark all over again. Feeling rather silly, she realized she expected an answer. It felt worse when she placed who she expected it from.

She hadn't heard the piping "CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS" cheer in ages. Things had grown distant from her two dear friends when she got her Cutie Mark last. Even now she frowned looking at the mark on her side. All these years and she still hadn't puzzled out what it meant. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Bell both had bright clear images of their talent, their special place in the world.

Casting an eye about the room, she didn't see much of a "special place." Gears and clockwork pieces and technical manuals cluttered every surface. It wasn't a wonderful life-affirming place, it was a jeweler's shop going-out-of-business sale brought to her room. They were not even proper building models or something for work, just tick-tock tinkering.


As a filly Scootaloo wanted to be like Dash so badly. She had high hopes when her mark appeared - "it has to do something with flying, I mean, rockets go up in the sky, right?" - but still no luck with achieving such a feat. "Who am I kidding? I'll never be like her." She rested her chin on her hooves, her chair swiveling away from the window slowly.

The pony-shaped shadow carved out a chunk of the light streaming in the window. Just getting in the way. A tear ran down her cheek. A full grown mare, crying in the sunlight. Pathetic.

"I'll never be as good as you ..." She admitted to the hallway as she entered it. Making her way downstairs as she stretched out a bit. Scootaloo hovered weakly to exercise her wings in the morning sun, not being able to do much better than that. Most days she didn't even bother any more.

She slowly cantered over to a field, sitting down in the lush waving grass. The wind blew her mane aside and the tears dripped off of the young Mare's face. She used to be the most "go get 'em" filly in Ponyville. But that was years ago. She looked up to the clouds and saw a rainbow streak the skies. It was her, this made Scootaloo feel worse. She had come to somewhat of a realization in that moment. "What am I supposed to do?" she asked herself.

She rested on her side, feeling like having a lazy day in the park. She looked up to see all the other ponies playing in the distance. By now the tears stopped. Though her cheeks were wet, almost raw, from this low moment. She slowly sat up, slumped over. She got back to her hooves soon after, stretching out slightly in doing so.

Her stomach growled mildly, having not eaten breakfast. She felt the pangs grow just a small bit. She hung her head, walking over to Sugarcube Corner to grab something to eat. Upon walking in she was greeted by a small blue filly, with a dark blue mane and tail, curly. 'Just like Pinkie...' She thought to herself.

"Hey Scootaloo!" The small filly called out. She had a cheery smile on her face.

"Hey, Blueberry," Scootaloo replied with a flat tone. "Can I get a table please?"

Blueberry gave her a strange look. "Are you okay?" She asked, a little worried, she had never seen her like this before.

"I'm just a little hungry." Scootaloo reassured the young girl.

"Oh, okay! And guess what?" She said showing her flank to to the elder. "I got my cutie mark today!" It was a small slice of pie, Blueberry. "Isn't it AWESOME!?" she called out.

She sighed a bit, nodding very slightly. "That's great," She said as she sat down at a table, resting her head on her hooves. "You can make me whatever you make best!" She smiled and winked at the filly. "That a deal?"

Blueberry's eyes lit up. "My first order!" She had exclaimed bouncing around. and straight into the kitchen. A good 10 minutes later she returned with a small one pony sized pie.

"What is it?" Scootaloo asked her, already knowing what it was. An attempt to add some humor to her day.

"Balooooo-berry pie." She said, stretching out her words, punctuated with a giggle.

"I figured," Scootaloo said with a smile taking a small bite of the treat. A sweet flavor embraced her mouth. It was the best pie she had ever tasted, and she couldn't wait to finish it. "This is amazing!" She said softly to the young filly, "You'll be getting a tip. That's for sure."

"Thank you Scoots," Blueberry said walking away to let her eat in peace.

'Outdone by a filly...' Scootaloo thought, saddened even more by the event. She soon finished the pie. "I'm done" She called out, waiting for Blueberry to return.

"Yes!" The girl called out in cheer. "How was it? WAS IT GOOOD? How much should I charge?" She went on a little bit too long, she realised.

"Well, It was the best pie I had ever tasted." She patted Blueberry on the head. "Hmm, how much do you think you should charge?" Scootaloo looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"It's normally ten bits for a small fruit pie..." She said looking down.

"That sounds fine." She pulled out some money. "Here you go." She handed her twenty bits. "Ten for the pie, and ten because it was such good service." She smiled sincerely at the young baker.

"Thank you thank you thankyouthankyouthankyou!" She repeated walking back into the kitchen.

Scoot, now no longer hungry, walked back out into Ponyville. The clock-tower bell went off, signaling that it was noon. Soon the streets became busy with all the merchants and traders. The sound of clopping on the cobble streets filled the air. It felt good; Ponyville was quaint and just-right. Just the right size, and such a classic feel. It was enough to make a newcomer feel nostalgia. The smells, too, filled the air. The pies, the assortment of hay and flowers. It was almost enough to make her hungry again.

She walked towards Fluttershy's house, moving northward to a small beach in the direction. The peninsula went a good two miles out into the ocean. The salty breez danced about her. She loved the feeling of the warm sand beneath her hooves. Scootaloo planted herself, warm in the firm light sand. Her eyes wandered over the theater of shells, receding in and out with the tide. The small white sand-crabs and bleach-pink hermits, crawling and burrowing on the beach. She laid there for what must have been a few hours, absorbing the many sights and sounds. It was now 5 o'clock. She realised she had wasted a good day lazing about, but knew it was worth it. Once more her stomach growled again, she figured she should head back soon.

She hovered over to her house a few minutes after. Walking in, looked at her fishbowl, resting her chin on the table, looking at her four-year-old guppy. It was something the mare took pride in, she had kept it alive so long ... It was time to clean the bowl. She moved the gray fish over to a large jug, emptying out the water, and scrubbing the bowl. "Crystal cl-" Scootaloo slipped in a small puddle of water, the bowl landing on her head. Her cheeks turned red, even though she was alone ... Scoots took a quick glance at a mirror. As if she had a fire in her chest, inspiration exploded in her heart. She finished filling and replanting the bowl, putting the guppy back in its place, feeding it a few sprinkles of flakes.

She made her way to the library down the street. She opened the door, slightly saddened by it... It had been so lonely and down in maintenance since Twilight left a few years ago. She bit her bottom lip making her way to the S section. The musty place had once been so, lively. It was, different, in some way, Scootaloo couldn't put her hoof on the feeling. An empty library (empty of Twilight, anyway) was void and bare. It was the worst feeling that had ever come over her.

She paused by a small library table in the far "S" section, between Science and Solemnity. On it used to lay a note from Twilight. "Be back in a few days, going to Canterlot to pick up supplies." Scootaloo's eyes watered up as she remembered this, remembering the fun days they had as a filly, then never seeing twilight again.

Scootaloo got lost in her subconscious memories with the CMC that flooded up seeing the broken down library. 'Ten long years...' The thought ran through her mind, and it exploded in her. "It's been ten years since I've seen her..." She looked down, drops of her reminiscent tears hit the floor uncontrollably. One particular memory crossed Scootaloo's mind, the night Sweetie got her cutie mark. She remembered having one of the Cutie Mark Crusaders sleepovers in the Library. They were studying different ways to get them. Sweetie-Belle belted out in her glorious tone. She said a few simple words and it had just appeared. "I love to sing," She remembered. She also remembered the following weeks when she broke off from the group, not really needing to be a part anymore. Although they continued to talk, It was never the same.

She shook her head taking her mind off the paper she just saw. Scootaloo looked along the bookshelves, scanning them, pulling out a few books, then on to the M section, getting another book. She walked towards the door, turning around, taking one last look before leaving.

She walked down the street and saw Apple Bloom painting a mural for a new restaurant in Ponyville. Scootaloo waved at her and Apple Bloom waved back with cheery eyes saying, "Hey Scootaloo."

Scoots replied with a simple hello and continued on her way into her house. She got caught in yet another memory.


Her eyes, once again, began to water as she remembered the last day she really spent with her good friend Apple Bloom. The two were at Sugarcube Corner hanging out with Pinkie-Pie. They were asking details on how she felt when she got her cutie mark. Pinkie explained it was just an urge she had. Apple Bloom took that to heart and took icing and created a very beautiful icing screen, a picture of Apple Bloom and Scootaloo in the tree house with Sweetie. It had been a good year since they had even talked to Sweetie-Bell. Sad... She had nostalgia looking at the cake. Apple Bloom's cutie-mark appeared respectively. It was a paintbrush and a palette in the shape of an apple. The two stayed in contact, but after that Apple Bloom was ALWAYS too busy to spend much time with Scootaloo. She constantly painted for the ponies of Ponyville. Whether it be a mural or just a fresh coat, she always had something to do.

She hung her head, realising that she had been so separated from her friends, walking into the house. She felt a deep sadness now, but the inspiration held off depression. Scootaloo stopped, jaw dropped, her eyes once again watered up.... Scoots began to cry as she took her saddlebags off and rushed to her fishbowl... The once lively fish was unmoving on the surface of the water. The one thing she had been proud of and loved in her life was now gone... She had to do something... Scoots swiped the bowl off of the table in a depression-fueled rage, tears running down her silent face. The bowl landed in a shatter, the water spilling onto her wooden floor, she stormed into her workshop.

She pulled out a piece of paper. She began to draw a figure, with measurements on it. There was a knock at the door a few hours in, and Scoot's head popped up. "Huh?" She called out, seeing it was night time already. She walked to the door, "Who is it?" She asked as she opened it. A paint covered pony stood on the porch in the darkness.