Inky Paper

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Odd title huh? Spoonlicker Anon is delayed for a week. The long and short of it is that I had less time than I anticipated and the stop point for Chapter 10 is not one I’m happy with. It really needs to be longer, and while I could have added to it today to post the results would have been more like a rough draft. Obviously that can’t fly. I’m sorry for the delay and I feel horrible about it, but it’s for the good of the story.

However, I said I’d have something today so I made this one shot around a very special story.

Summary: Pinkie and Blinkie have gotten their cutie marks, leaving Inky to go on a journey to find her own with the help of a make believe friend.

Posted in Thread 875
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>Inky was a quiet filly.
>She did her chores and helped on the rock farm, then sat alone in her room for the rest of the day.
>Her sisters had found their ways in life; had found their cutie marks.
>Inky’s coat remained bare, her dull grey on grey fur making her stand out like a sore thumb in this colorful world.
>Even the black and white of zebras was more vibrant.
>And so Inky hid away in her room; dreaming of other worlds and creatures.

>While the isolated girl sits there lost in thought a strange being walks by her window.
>Stopping in its tracks, it pokes its smooth green head in the opening.
“Pardon me, but did you see a human walk by?”
>Turning to face the stranger Inky offers a surprised stare.
“I could swear I saw one. Funny, there aren’t many around you know.”
>Shifting its sight throughout the room the narrow eyes flick open in realization.
>The stranger chuckles and points towards Inky’s dresser.
“Ah, you’re bedroom mirror. I did see a human. Me.”
>No amount of surprise could suppress Inky’s scrunch.
“Mind if I come in?”
>Neither seeking company nor turning it away, Inky goes back to staring at the floor in front of her.

>The lanky human crawls in through the window piece by piece.
>A black three piece suit adorns its body overtop a white undershirt and red tie.
>Once fully inside, it stands up tall in her room, nearly hitting the ceiling.
“Hey there, Inky. I’m Anonymous, but you can call me Anon. I’m here to help you.”
>One of the large hands sets down on Inky’s head.
“Somewhere locked away in that noggin are fascinating things just waiting to be shared. You just need a helping hand, and what’s handier than a human?”

>Inky doesn’t move from underneath the palm.
>“I don’t want to share. I made those things up for me. Places for me to get away.”
“I see. Have you ever heard of the Land of Lines?”
>She quietly shakes her head no.


 “It’s where I live. A place where all of those imaginary things exist.”
>The fingers on top of Inky’s head gently drum.
>The looming figure kneels down as low as it can, matching the storm cloud colored filly in height.
 “Well, would you like to visit?”
>She gives a small nod, and Anon lets out a sharp cheer in response.
“Aha, I knew you would. But first, you need the proper attire.”

>The hand on Inky’s head slides down and the other hand ascends until both are on one of Inky’s shoulders.
>Anon casts a reassuring glance while offering a soothing whisper.
“Did you know that everyone has an outline? Their bright colors may try to hide it, but if you look closely you’ll see it just as easily. In order for you to come with me to the Land of Lines I’ll have to borrow yours. Don’t worry, you’ll be just fine.”
>The light grip gently lifts up, her outline coming up with them leaving the colors of her body behind.
>Anon sets Outline Inky on the floor again, and she marvels at being able to see through her body.
>Still sitting in the room is Colored In Inky, frozen in sleep.

“There we are. Are you ready to head out?”
>Outline Inky gives a nod, and Anon reaches into one of its pockets.
>Pulling out a pen it hands it to Inky.
“In order to get to the Land of Lines we’ll need a road. Go ahead and draw a set of lines on the wall as far as you can see.”
>With the pen in her mouth Inky gives Anon a questioning look. She knew she wasn’t supposed to draw on the wall, but she really wanted to visit Anon’s home.
>As she flicks her head up to draw, the lines do a curious thing. They did not go up the wall, but ran far off into the distance, creating a winding trail.
“Perfect. Hold on tight, Inky. The first step is always the hardest.”
>The outlined filly was hard to see mixed in with the black suit as Inky clung to Anon in both fear and anticipation.


>With a bend of its long legs, Anon sprung into the wall with a mighty leap.
>While they soar through the air the bedroom shrinks further and further behind them, until it was completely gone.
>A few curly lines blow pass, feeling much like a breeze. The visible wind quickening as the pair descend.
>A thud rings out as Anon makes landfall. Again on the ground, little Inky now felt safe enough to let go and walk on her own.
“There we are. Now all we have to do is follow the road to the Land of Lines.”

>Inky marches in step with Anon while taking in the landscape.
>Her vision darts all around in unbridled joy, examining everything in this foreign world with enthusiasm.
>The flowertrees, the cloudsuns, the birdflies. It is all so fantastic.
>Everything is made up of lines just like her.
>Everything except Anonymous.

>”Anon, how come you aren’t an outline?”
>A cheeky grin crosses the human’s face.
“I’m an outline like everything else. I just happen to be wearing magic clothes.”
>”But your face and hands…”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
>Inky gives a short nod.
“I’m not really green.”

>Time ticks by in what feels like hours, and there was still no end in sight.
>The scenery was weird and wonderful.
>Winged pigs perch on lollipop branches, swimming cats chase rolling dogs, rocks with legs walk themselves around the fields.
>If things are like this on the road, all of her wildest dreams must be at the Land of Lines.
>Despite the excitement, each passing minute drains some of Inky’s will.
>”How much farther, Anon? Are we almost there?”
“Oh no, we still have a long ways to go.”
>”I’m getting kind of tired. Can we take a break?”
“Hmmm, I suppose. We can have a short picnic. I just so happened to pack all sorts of goodies.”
>Anon reaches into its pocket, pulling out a picnic basket and blanket.
>Placing the blanket on one of the fudge hills near the road, Anon sits down and hands Inky a circular line.


>The circles clang and ting against one another. Next actual words are set out onto the blanket.
>Anonymous immediately starts fixing itself a plate.
“Ah, Arial, my favorite.”
>Like a strand of spaghetti Anonymous slurps up the word; the font unraveling as it is eaten.
“Oh, and a slice of Times New Roman with some shading.”
>Using an outlined knife, the Ti part is cut off. Anonymous then scraps a nearby shadow and spreads different tones of grey like butter.
>After taking a big bite, Anon looks to Inky.
“What’s the matter; not hungry?”
>”Is this actual food?”
“Why of course it is. Here, try some of this.”
>Pulling a jar from the basket, Anon spills out a bunch of funny shapes onto Inky’s empty plate.

>Although suspicious, Inky gives one of the strange morsels a try.
>”This tastes funny.”
“Those are Wingdings. A little funny, yes, but they are still just as nutritious.”
>Snagging a  from Inky’s plate, Anon pops the symbol into its mouth.
>With a shrug Inky decides to join in and starts filling her plate with the various ‘foods’.
>After trying a few she discovers that the wavy ones are far sweeter.
>The bold ones have too strong of a flavor, and the straight ones are kind of bland.
>Anonymous seems to like them, though.
>Eating words felt very odd, but to Inky’s surprise her hunger was soon satisfied.
>Feeling content she lays down onto the blanket.

>”This is nice.”
>On the other hand, Anonymous instantly starts cleaning up.
“It is, but now it’s time to get back on the road.”
>”Just a few more minutes?”
“No can do. If we stop now we’ll never make it to the Land of Lines.”
>”Awwww.”
“I promise you, Inky, it will all be worth it in the end.”
>Grudgingly, Inky gets up off the blanket, and Anon shrinks the cloth back into its pocket.


>Resuming their travels the duo advance down the seemingly endless path.
>It will take forever to reach the Land of Lines at this rate.
>”Anon, is there anything we can do to get there faster?”
“What did you have in mind?”
>”Something we could ride like a wagon that goes really really fast.”
>With an extended thumb, Anon points over its shoulder.
“You tell me.”
>Out of nowhere a giant contraption covered in wheels comes rolling out of the hills.

>It rumbles and roars in the front, while carrying a long box in the back.
>Inky starts jumping up and down while flailing her limbs in an effort to wave it over.
>When the machine spots her it drives towards them. Stopping next to her the side door flings open.
>Inside is a large bookworm wearing a Tyrolean hat. A series of levers make up the console of the vehicle.
>”Where are you headed?”
>”To the Land of Lines.”
>”Well hop on in. I’ll get you there in no time, or my name isn’t Lowly Worm.”

>Inky wastes no time in hopping in, soon followed by Anon.
>The cab was surprisingly roomy for at least two of the passengers.
>Anon’s legs were bent at sharp angles, and its back was slouched.
>Once the door closes the roars upfront grow louder, and the contraption begins to move.
>A low grumble mixes in, coming from the crumpled human.
>”There there Anon. It beats walking, and look how fast we’re going. We’ll be there in no time or his name isn’t Lowly Worm.”
“I heard him.”

>Progress was being made rather quickly.
>The landscape shifts and changes as the trio chug along.
>Whole worlds and characters dance along the road.
>Until a giant wall suddenly smashes down from the sky right in front of the wagon.
>Try as he might the bookworm can’t stop in time.
>A forceful crash echoes for some time as the vehicle buckles at the impact.
>Everyone is thrown around in the cab by the sudden halt.


>A face appears in the center of the wall, laughing and taunting.
>”Where do you think you’re going?”
>The wall stood strong, not even a dent was made by the collision.
>The bookworm was the first to recover from the shock, and swiftly kicks both Inky and Anonymous out.
>”You’re on your own. I’m outta here.”
>Cranking back one of the levers, the compact wagon flies into reverse and slinks away like an accordion.
>Climbing off the ground Anon dusts itself off.
“Guess that wasn’t his name.”

>The stone lips of the wall curled up in a grinchy smile.
>Each side continued indefinitely, there was no way around it.
>”What do we do now?”
“Maybe it will let us through if we ask.”
>Inky slowly walks up to the barrier. The wall’s height dwarfs her a hundred fold.
>”Excuse me, but can you open up just a teensy amount?”
>”NO! I guard ALL paths to the Land of Lines, and it is my job to keep EVERYONE out!”
>Powerful wind lines blow Inky back as it speaks.
“I suppose that would have been too easy.”

>”Can you get us passed it?”
“Me? No, there’s nothing I can do against that. It is up to you.”
>”Let’s go back, Anon.”
“But Inky, don’t you want to see the Land of Lines?”
>”Yes, but what can I do? The wall is so humungous.”
“Look closely, Inky. Look at everything that makes up the wall.”
>Squinting her eyes in directed focus, she pores over every tiny detail.
>The bricks are noticeably disorderly; they’re not even square.
>Squiggly lines, curvy lines, circles and ovals all make up parts of the wall. Each begins to meld together, building images as fanciful as her dreams.
“What do you see?”
>”I see lots of things; like finding shapes in clouds.”
“That’s the spirit. Now go and set them free.”


>The arrogant smirk never left the stone face. Its harsh eyes watch Inky step forward with teasing joy.
>”You’re not really that big; you’re just pretending. You’re actually a sqort and a famildo; a plagot and a humbldor!”
>As Inky calls out each name a figure separates from the wall and runs off.
>Piece by piece the barrier shrinks and crumbles until a lone being remains where the wall once stood.
>The outline of this last design neither straightens nor curve. An endless wave sails through its entire body.
>Two ocean like limbs spread out, and a spark of delight floats atop its head.
>”Oh thank you, thank you, thank you. I never wanted to be a wall; I wanted to be a muse. I tried offering idea after idea, but after so long they all piled up. Thank you for finally freeing me, Inky!”
>Frolicking into the sky, the muse takes its leave.
>”Good luck on your journey! Good bye!”

>Anon strolls up to join Inky.
“I’d say that went rather well.”
>”I almost can’t believe it.”
>Swinging its arm out, Anon gestures down the road.
“Shall we?”
>”Lets.”

>On the way, the two come across a white outline laying flat in the road.
>The figure wasn’t moving like any of the others.
>Inky rushes towards it to investigate. After a quick study she tilts her head to the side.
>“Anon, what’s this?”
“Oh my.”
>Anonymous bows its head after looking over the chalky scene. After a moment of silence Anon offers an answer to Inky’s question.
“That is the final shape of a once living line. All lines die eventually, but as long as someone remembers it the spark never leaves. This one was abandoned and never shared, and now here it lies.”
>”What if I make something up about it and share that?”
“That could work, but are you sure? Once you pick up a line it will become your burden to bear.”
>”I’m sure. I don’t want to just leave it here, and it can play with the other ideas from the wall.”


>Like peeling Velcro, the flat line rips off of the road.
>The white line begins to regain Inky’s choice of color, and twists in the air shaping to her desire.
>Spinning wildly, the line shrinks and puffs. It’s miniature form widening into a stocky body.
>The tiny creature could fit in the base of her hoof. The plant/ animal hybrid held a menacing gaze.
>”I’m going to call you Taurvin.”
>As the being sprung to life a tunnel rose out of the ground.
>Voices echoed out of the mouth, but no faces could be seen.

>”What’s that?”
“That is the tunnel of critics. It leads directly to the Land of Lines.”
>”Do we have to go through there?”
“Not we; you. You carry a line, and there is no other way through. Even if I was carrying one I would be in a different tunnel; one with voices unique to my line.”
>”I don’t like this. What if they hate Taurvin? What if they hate me?”
“Be brave, Inky. Remember, the only way for a line to survive is to be seen by others.”
>Swallowing hard, Inky presses into the darkness with her creation.

>The voices go quiet, and not a sound is made.
>Nothing changes with her next step. Then another step and another.
>Deeper and deeper she goes into the tunnel.
>She thought the silence would make her feel easier, but the reverse was true.
>With each step followed by nothing her worry grows and grows.
>All of a sudden a voice bellows her way.
>’Lame.’
>Soon followed by another.
>’Meh.’
>And another.
>’Have seen worse.’
>Inky wasn’t sure what to make of it all.
>What did they not like?

>The end of the tunnel came into view.
>Although there was doubt in the outcome, she had tried.
>The Taurvin was no longer just a thought or an abandoned idea.
>It was now a resident of the Land of Lines.


>”WE’RE HERE!”
>Anonymous crosses through the tunnel as if it wasn’t even there.
>This place didn’t look so special.
>There were no exotic vurs or plowns or even a plain flower.
>Everything was barren and bland.
“What happened?”

>Furious scraping sounds silence the celebration, and start to grow louder and louder.
>”What’s all of that noise?”
“Oh no. Squiggles.”
>”Squiggles? What’s wrong with squiggles?”
“The Land of Lines is for those finished projects. These lines have literally curled up into themselves in frustration. Nearly complete, but they can’t find the resolve to end.”
>”Like the squiggles I make when I don’t know what to do?”
“Precisely.”
>The melody of a poorly tuned orchestra plays out in Rage minor.
>A horde of squiggles closer resembling a herd of dust balls rolls towards the new arrivals.

>”How come there’s so many?”
“I don’t know. They must have scared everything else away.”
>”They’re just unfinished lines, right? Lines waiting to be ended and shared?”
“They are.”
>”Then all you have to do is help them finish.”
“I can’t Inky; there’s only so much I can do. Once a line is started it’s up to the bearer to finish. My hands are tied.”
>”I’ll do it. I helped a line already.”
“No. There’s too many, you’ll just end up a squiggle like them. Instead you should just go home.”
>”Go home?”
“You have shown the courage to share your lines, Inky. There’s nothing here for you anymore.”
>”I don’t want to go.”
“The world is waiting for you. Just head back the way we came and you’ll be home in no time. I’ll find a way to tolerate the squiggles. Maybe they’ll find their own ending eventually.”
>”But we can think of something.”
“Go on, Inky. I want you to go.”
>The little filly sagged and drooped as she skulks away.
>”Okay….”


>Inky left as she was told, and the squiggles continue to run rampant.
>Anon tries to find a quiet place, but there is no peace to be found.
>The only thing Anon can do is cover its ears to dull the noise.
>It was no fun being alone again, but it had helped as it sought to.
>As the sounds dim a cry of its name rings out.
>Before realizing what was making the call, Inky rushes back to Anonymous.
>”You didn’t think I’d leave you did you? And look who I brought.”
>The muse flows in the sky above, and the critics are all here too.
>Ideas begin to pour down like rain, and the cheers of the faceless voices carry to each squiggle.
>’Don’t stop now.’
>’I don’t hate this.’
>’I like it so far.’
>’MOAR’
>’It’s okay, a few suggestions…’
>Slowly, each squiggle unravels and takes its intended shape.
>All manner of plants, animals, myths and legends begin to populate the land once more.
>Little Outline Inky begins to hum a little tune, and a wide smile cracks through.

>”Oh, spin me a tale of prince and princesses; and of the common mane. Spin me a tale of your hopes and dreams; and share with me again.”
>Anonymous is the first to be struck by her song, to feel her lyrics.
”Oh, spin me a tale of prince and princesses; and of the common mane. Spin me a tale of your hopes and dreams; and share with me again.”
>”Draw me a picture of funny poses; show me again.”
“Show me again.”
“Or little ones with button noses; show me again.”
>”Show me again.”
>Soon everyone is bouncing to her rhythm.

>”Oh, spin me a tale of prince and princesses; and of the common mane. Spin me a tale of your hopes and dreams; and share with me again.”
”Oh, spin me a tale of prince and princesses; and of the common mane. Spin me a tale of your hopes and dreams; and share with me again.”
>’We like stories and pretty pictures; show us again.’
>’We can look passed all types of mixtures; showwww us againnnn.’


>”Oh, spin me a tale of prince and princesses; and of the common mane. Spin me a tale of your hopes and dreams; and share with me again.”
”Oh, spin me a tale of prince and princesses; and of the common mane. Spin me a tale of your hopes and dreams; and share with me again.”
>”Without risk there’s no reward; show me again.”
“Show me again.”
“Take a chance of your own accord; show me again.
>”Show me again.”

>”Oh, spin me a tale of prince and princesses; and of the common mane. Spin me a tale of your hopes and dreams; and share with me again.”
”Oh, spin me a tale of prince and princesses; and of the common mane. Spin me a tale of your hopes and dreams; and share with me again.”

>As the song fades Inky gives a bashful smile.
>”I guess it runs in the family.”
>A mushy chuckle comes from Anon.
>Taking a peek around Outline Inky notices that they are no longer in the Land of Lines.
>”Anon, how come we’re in my room?”
“Because, Inky, it’s time for you to return. You know the power of lines. You’ve helped yourself, and in doing so you helped me. You’re ready to share yourself with the world. All that’s left is for you to be truly brave; to face growing up and to overcome those obstacles with your own strength. And, perhaps one day, to move pass the realm of make believe.”
>”I’ll never forget you, Anon.”
“I’ll never forget you either, Inky. Come along now, it’s time to put you back in one piece.”
>Anonymous lifts up Outline Inky and carries her to where Colored In Inky still sits.
>Placing one on top of the other, the unified Inky begins to wake.
“Goodbye, Inky.”
>”Anon, wait!”
>Half out the window Anon gives pause.
>”Lines never die as long as you remember them right?”
>Anon gives a heartfelt grin.
“That’s right Inky.”
>And then Anon was gone.


>As soon as Anon had left Inky’s parents came through the door.
>’Inky, what’s all that noise?’
>The little grey ball of boundless energy hops all over the room talking a mile a minute.
>"I went on the most amazing adventure with Anon! There were flowertrees and famildos and vurs! I met a wall, but it really wasn’t a wall, and went through the tunnel of critics and finally got to visit the Land of Lines!”
>Inky’s parents just look at each other. Her mom pointing at her dad.
>’They get it from your side of the family.’
>”Ohh, I’m telling a story. I should write this down and draw some pictures, then I’ll share the whole thing with everyone!”
>’Now Inky, calm down and come to dinner.’
>”I’m not that hungry, I had Wingdings earlier.”
>This time it was Inky’s dad to speak up.
>’What’s a wing ding?’
>Inky finally calms down and takes a seat, placing a hoof to her chin in thought.
>”It’s really hard to explain. Maybe Pinkie could bake something like it.”

>Although their little whirlwind had finally stopped, the dad couldn’t help but nudge the mom and point to Inky’s flank.
>’Inky, you got your cutie mark.’
>The little filly practically threw herself at her mirror.
>Sure enough she had her cutie mark. An ink pen just like the one Anon gave her.
>The high pitched squee could be heard for miles.



Pardon me, but did you see a human walk by?
Ohhhhh, the mirror. I did see a human. Me.
By the way. What fascinating things are you waiting to share?


Inspired by and based on Puff the Magic Dragon
Cartoon (1978): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0FyhTBvLu4w
Song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RC2tlNmz4ao