Sunflower: Harmony - Supplemental filesby Hoopy McGee
Chapters
Editorializing
Author's note: This story takes place concurrently with Project Sunflower: Harmony chapter 5, taking place the day after Erin's welcome back party.
It was a peaceful morning, which might have surprised most ponies who weren’t familiar with Manehattan. Just after the sun rose was the best time to find peace and quiet in the city while still enjoying the warmth of the sun. In another hour or so, the streets would be packed with pedestrians and carriages, ponies on their way to work or delivering goods to the various businesses found in this, the most sprawling metropolis in Equestria.
A lone white unicorn was sitting outside of Good Cup’s Cafe and Bakery, a coffee cooling on the table in front of him. He was sitting with his eyes closed, humming a tune softly to himself while the breeze rustled his leaf-green mane.
Another unicorn approached, this one charcoal grey and sporting a white-grey beard. The charcoal unicorn bounded up, displaying what some might call an inappropriate amount of enthusiasm for a pony his age.
A grin crossed the newcomer’s face when he saw that his friend was sitting quietly, apparently unaware of his new company. With a soft orange glow, his magic reached into his saddlebag and took out a neatly folded newspaper, moving it carefully until it was directly over the table. Then, with a smirk, he let his magic wink out.
The white unicorn’s horn flared a deep purple and caught the paper just before it smacked into the table. Purple eyes opened, and the white unicorn sighed.
“‘Morning, Mad Lib.”
“Aww. I thought I had you, that time!” Mad Lib shook his head. “I’ll get you one of these days, BP. And my guess for today is ‘Buttered Pecans’.”
“You’ll have to get up earlier than this, then,” BP said with a smug smile. “And sorry, that’s nowhere near right.” He moved the paper to one side of the table and gestured at the chair opposite him, which Mad gratefully sunk into.
“Eh, I’ll figure out what your initials mean eventually, BP.” Mad shrugged and grinned. “Of course, that guess may have been influenced by my lack of breakfast so far.”
“Order something, then,” BP said as he returned to his coffee.
“You’ll want to read that paper, BP,” Mad said as he signalled the server with a raised hoof.
“Oh?” BP picked the paper up in his magic once again and began reading it. “Anything new?”
“Very much so. Some cub reporter by the name of Typeset actually went to Ponyville.”
That got BP’s attention. “Somepony went there? I thought the Princesses said Ponyville was off-limits to non-local reporters.”
“Not exactly,” Mad said to BP. Then, to the server, he said, “Coffee, three sugars and no cream, okay? And… do you have any fresh crullers?”
“We sure do!” the mare said.
“I’ll have a couple of those, then. Thank you kindly.” Mad looked back around at his friend in time to see that BP had a look of irritation on his face. “What?”
“What do you mean, ‘not exactly’?”
“They didn’t forbid us, so much as just ‘asked nicely’.” Mad shrugged. “It’s most clear Celestia just wants the Element Bearers to live as peaceful a life as possible.” He chuckled. “You know, outside of the occasional world-ending threat. But it’s not like they’re going to chuck us into prison if we go to Ponyville for news. Well, maybe you, but not the rest of us, hah. Oh, thank you, Miss.” The returning server put a cup of coffee down in front of him, along with a plate holding his crullers.
The mare smiled. “Anything else I can get you two?” When the two stallions indicated that they were fine, she nodded and added, “Just flag me down if you need anything,” before trotting off.
“What a sweet mare,” Mad said, watching as she left.
“And half your age, you old goat,” BP pointed out distractedly as he read the front page story. A few minutes later, he grunted and pushed the paper away. “Sunflower, eh? That’s the human.”
“What human?” a third voice asked.
The newcomer was a tan unicorn with a teal mane and ready smile. He trotted up to the table and helped himself to one of the two remaining empty chairs.
“Hey, Spotty,” BP said at the same time Mad said, “Hiya, Tomes.”
“Hey, BP,” Spotty Tomes said. “Hey, Mad. I see you still haven’t decided to chop of that ridiculous muzzle-moss.”
“It keeps my chin warm,” Mad said defensively. He waggled his eyebrows and added, “Also, it’s devilishly handsome. In any case, we were just talking about a news report from Ponyville. Apparently, some young cub reporter decided to go check out the rumor that a certain human-turned-pony was living there again.”
“Oh, wow!” Spotty leaned over, trying to see the paper next to BP’s forehooves. “Is she?”
“Indeed. And apparently she’s got wings and a horn, this time.” Mad snorted and flicked his tail. “Though, everypony there is quick to say that she’s not a real alicorn. More human trickery.”
“Well, that makes sense,” BP said, passing the paper over to Spotty Tomes. “I don’t know all the specifics of what is and is not an alicorn, but I doubt you could just build one in a lab. A human lab, at that.”
Mad stared off. “How can you be sure, though?” he asked.
BP shrugged. “I can’t. Just a gut feeling.”
“Well put, sir. Very scientific, as you would no doubt say,” Mad replied, rolling his eyes.
“Hey, just because I’m a science reporter doesn’t mean I can’t have gut feelings,” BP nodded at his cutie mark, an Erlenmeyer flask crossed with a quill. “My intuition didn’t turn off when I got my mark.”
Before Mad could reply again, the fourth member of their little group trotted up. This one was an earth pony, a rich brown in color, with a scruffy grey mane and tail. His grey-tinged muzzle made him look older than he was, though that was just a product of his distant Trottingham ancestry.
“Hey, guys. What’s up?” the newcomer asked as he sat down in the last unoccupied chair. “Mad, did you know that you still have a wild animal attached to your face?”
“I don’t think this squirrel is wild anymore,” Spotty smirked.
“Ha ha. Very funny, all of you are regular Ponyaccis,” Mad said with an exaggerated grimace that morphed into a smirk of his own. “We were just talking about the human in Ponyville, Mr. Fix.”
“Humans, huh?” Simple Fix grinned. “Fascinating creatures. I can’t wait to get my hooves on some of their technology!”
“So you can break it?” Spotty Tomes asked, giving the earth pony a good-natured elbow to the ribs.
“Hey, I fix whatever I take apart!” Simple Fix said, glancing at his cutie mark of three interlocking gears. “Sometimes, not to the original function.”
While this was going on, BP had taken the paper back. “Look at this nonsense, though. I mean, kudos to this Typeset fellow for having the guts to go to Ponyville as a reporter, but what’s with talking to everypony but Sunflower? I mean, it’s great to know what the average pony thinks of her, but why not do a complete job by actually talking to her?”
“Maybe something happened,” Spotty said with a shrug. “I wonder why the local reporters won’t talk about her at all, too.”
“Can I read the story?” Simple Fix asked. “Thanks,” he added as BP set the paper in front of him.
For the next half hour, the four friends talked and passed the time. Their server made several more appearances, clearing away empty cups and bringing out fresh ones. The topics of discussion ranged all over, though they always seemed to end up touching back on the humans in some way.
For example, the separatists on Starfall Island were making waves again, campaigning to shut down contact with humans. It was a campaign that was gaining some ground, though mostly amongst the older ponies who disliked change.
Still, if there was one thing the four of them agreed on, it was that any real and in-depth reporting on humanity was distressingly absent.
“It’s all fluff pieces,” BP complained. “I want to know more about their technology.”
“Yeah, no kidding!” Simple Fix said.
“I’d like to know more about their literature,” Spotty Tomes said. He chuckled and indicated his mark, a spotted tome. “It’s my special talent to put together all sorts of different information, after all. I hope she brought many human books.”
“Hm… Maybe we should start up our own publication?” Mad suggested.
“Ha! That’s a good one!” Simple Fix’s smile faded after a few seconds. “You aren’t kidding.”
“Not at all! Of course I want to write about the humans!” Mad grinned and flung out his forehoof dramatically. “Think about it. Humans in Equestria… and beyond!”
“Watch it, you goof!” Spotty Tomes said, ducking the outflung hoof.
“Seriously now.” Mad stood up, placing his forehooves on the table. “Surely you’ve been dreaming about this since college! We’re always talking about getting back together and working on some big project. Can you think of anything bigger than this? The field is open, we’d be one of the few groups actually working on it!”
“Huh,” BP said, rubbing a hoof along his jaw. “Reporting on humans in Equestria. I’d work the science angle, I’d suppose?”
“Yeah!” Simple Fix’s eyes lit up as his ears perked up. “You take the high-science stuff that the eggheads like, I take all the gadgets and appliances that the common pony is interested in!”
“I could work on their media,” Spotty Tomes said, warming up to the idea.
“And I’ll… uh… I suppose I’ll do everything else?” Mad said, then shrugged. “We’ll need somepony to cover the magic angle, at least. Maybe we need more reporters and staff.”
“We do,” BP said, nodding. “Probably some editors, too.” He snorted at that. “Unless you want to try editing each others’ articles and stories again?”
“Ugh, no thanks!” Spotty Tomes said, shuddering. “That didn’t work out so well, last time.”
“Took me a week to get the smell of woodsmoke out of my mane,” Simple Fix added.
“Well, we are missing the fifth member of our little club,” Mad pointed out. “Sure, he moved all the way to Las Pegasus, but he might be willing to come back for this.”
“Hmm…” BP thought about it before nodding. “Yeah, okay. I’ll try to contact him and see if he’s in. He’s a damned fine editor.”
“So, what do we call ourselves?” Simple Fix asked. The others looked at him and he shrugged. “Hey, it’s a fair question.”
“Well, how about… Human Investigators?” Spotty grimaced as he probed the name.
“What about ‘The Earth Post’?” BP suggested.
“‘News of Two Worlds’?” was Mad’s contribution.
“‘Harmonics Journal’?” Simple Fix added.
“Happy Fun Time With Humans!” The other three stared at Mad Lib. “What?”
“How about ‘The Crossworlds Journal’?” Spotty Tomes suggested.
“Sounds too much like ‘crosswords’, but you may be onto something there,” BP said. “I like ‘Journal’, makes it sound like we’re serious about what we’re doing.”
“Maybe we can do something that relates to humans specifically?” Mad Lib suggested.
“That would be a good idea,” Spotty Tomes said. “Like what?”
“Well… Uh…” Mad Lib considered something. “They’re bipeds? They wear clothes all the time?”
“Neither of those seem like a good idea for a title,” Simple Fix said with a shrug. “Besides, I think we need to have something that has humans and ponies together.”
“Humans have hands, and ponies have hooves,” their waitress said as she refilled their various coffees and teas. “How about ‘Hoofinhand Journal'?”
The four friends looked at each other, startled, before the chuckle started up. Four cups raised in unison, three lifted by magic and one by hoof, in a spontaneous toast.
“The Hoofinhand Journal!” they said together.
Breakfast in Canterlot
Author's Note: This story takes place during Chapter 13 of Project Sunflower.
Twilight yawned hugely as she made her way through the streets of Canterlot, which were painted a cheerful gold by the freshly-risen sun. Breakfast that Friday morning was at The Silver Crescent, at Rarity's suggestion. According to her, the place had just opened up recently and had quickly become locally popular.
Rarity had been right. Twilight saw the line before the café itself even came into view. The line of ponies went out the door and down the street before disappearing around the corner at the end of the block. Twilight let out a short groan at the sight, and started wondering if she’d be able to convince Rarity to eat elsewhere. As she got closer, though, she noticed that there were two sets of doors. The set on the left was for to-go only, which was responsible for the long line. The second set of doors was for sit-in dining and had no wait at all.
Her mood much improved, Twilight picked up the pace at the prompting of her grumbling stomach and let herself into the second set of doors. She immediately spotted Rarity sitting at a small table in the dining area, reading from a menu and sipping tea. Her friend’s mane was up in a business-like bun on the back of her head, though, for Rarity, ‘business-like’ still included several jeweled pins to keep it in place.
“Hi, Rarity,” Twilight said as she sat down, slinging her saddlebags over the empty chair between them.
“Twilight!” Rarity beamed and put aside the menu. “How lovely to see you. You look… hmm… Not exactly well rested, actually.” She offered a sympathetic smile. “Yesterday didn’t go smoothly, I take it?”
Twilight uttered a short, bitter laugh. “You could say that. Their paperwork was such a mess, I actually took a break to bring Spike back to help out. They only had half of the visas completed and signed off. I had to run over to the Ministry office itself to rush everything through! And, even then, I had to drop Princess Celestia’s name more than once to get anypony moving.” She sighed, massaging her temples with her hooves. “At least the most crucial stuff should more or less be ready by now. I’m heading back there after breakfast to make sure.”
Rarity smiled. “Another crisis averted by Twilight Sparkle’s amazing organizational skills! This calls for a celebration.”
Twilight chuckled. “Well, yes. I am good at organizing. I just wish everything hadn’t been so…” she waved a hoof vaguely, trying to get the right word to pop up in her tired and stress-addled brain.
“Last minute?”
“Yeah, that works.” Twilight looked around. The line at the to-go window was moving pretty quickly. Ponies would walk up and order their drinks, shuffle off to one side, and a few moments later one of the baristas would pass over an insulated paper cup full of coffee. “This place sure is busy,” she noted.
“They have excellent coffee,” Rarity said. “It doesn't hurt that they're also very quick. Plus, they have their logo emblazoned on every cup of coffee they sell. It’s all about branding, dear. Ponies see those cups everywhere, and so they want the same thing.”
Twilight frowned at the logo printed on her menu. “You know, I have to think Princess Luna might be upset about that, since it looks an awful lot like her cutie mark.”
“Well, it’s not as if a crescent moon is an uncommon symbol,” Rarity replied. “Doesn’t your father also have a crescent moon cutie mark?”
“Well, yeah, but it looks totally different!” Twilight sighed. “Okay, you’re right. Maybe I’m just a bit cranky after the day I had yesterday.”
“It’s quite alright, darling.”
Twilight smothered a yawn behind her hoof. “Sorry. Anyway, how did your day go?”
“Quite well, actually! They desperately needed my help with the aesthetics of the planned designs, the poor dears. Here, I have something to show you that I think you might be interested in.”
Rarity’s horn glowed, and a bundle of papers came floating out of her own saddlebags. Twilight took the papers in her own field and looked at them with growing interest.
“Is this...?”
“The diagram for the magical construct that goes into the cachettes?” Rarity grinned. “Why, yes it is!”
Twilight tilted her head, perking her ears forward curiously. “Cachettes?”
“It’s what we’ve been calling them. ‘Magical batteries’ and ‘aetheric storage’ sounds so technical, and ‘torc’ doesn’t apply to earrings, necklaces and the like.”
“Oh, I see!” Twilight said as she leaned in to get a closer look at the diagram. “Wow, they’ve made some refinements since I worked on it last.”
The initial concept for the magic batteries had been to form an incomplete spell circle, one that lacked any release conditions or triggers. The circle would gather magical energy up to its maximum capacity, but not be able to release it on its own. A pony would have to consciously draw magic from it for it to release any of the stored energy.
“Hmm… Looks like they’ve made the energy gathering even more efficient than when I helped with the initial design.” Twilight's eyes traced along the circle. "They've simplified it considerably, as well."
“So I understand,” Rarity said. “It’s fairly easy to replicate, though it is a little tedious.”
“It would be.” Twilight took out a sheet of paper from her own saddlebags and began taking notes. “So, what new materials are they trying to use for infusing this circle?”
“Well, they have some success with various precious metals, and some dense hardwoods. Those go fairly quickly, but aren’t as stable. Gems have the highest stability, but take considerably longer to inscribe.” Rarity smiled. “That’s what I wanted to ask about. Altering crystal structures enough to etch this design into it takes a qualified unicorn a good amount of time. I was wondering if you could think of any way to speed up the process?”
“Hmm... “ Twilight frowned while she studied the designs. They really were elegant in their simplicity, with hardly any room for improvement. Still, Rarity was counting on her, so she set herself to studying the designs, looking for any way to improve things at all.
Her quill flew as she took notes, even going so far as to replicate the design itself on a piece of paper in minute detail in order to make sure she understood the circle in its entirety. While her quill flew, so did her mind, trying to figure out any small tweaks or changes that could result in an even simpler version of the circle.
“Twilight?”
“Yes?” Twilight looked up, flushing when she saw both Rarity and their waiter looking at her. “Oh, sorry. I was a bit caught up in this. Did you order already, Rarity?”
“Yes, I did. Did you know what you wanted, dear?”
“Um… I’ll have whatever you’re having, I guess,” she said.
The waiter made a note on his pad. “Right. I’ll have your food out in a jiffy!”
“You do that,” Twilight said absently as she returned to studying the design in front of her. She chewed on her bottom lip, making notes and writing out calculations on a piece of scratch paper beside her. “Maybe... invert the second matrix,” she muttered. “No… That would throw the third quadrant out of balance. We’d need to adjust the initial phase to gather… Hmm…”
As she kept working on the problem, she slowly became aware of something tugging at her attention. Finally she looked up to see Rarity looking at her with an amused smile.
“What?”
“Your food is getting cold, Twilight,” Rarity said, pointing with the fork held in her magical grip.
Twilight looked down to see a plate with a single poached egg, rye toast, and some sectioned grapefruit sitting before her. She poked at the toast with her hoof while frowning. “Uh. I really should have ordered something else.”
Rarity smirked. “Consider it revenge for tempting me with garlic bread yesterday.”
“Okay, okay, fair enough.” Twilight’s eyes slowly gravitated back to the design schematics. "I don't think I'll be able to simplify that any further, though I do have a suggestion."
Rarity lowered her teacup and smiled with a twinkle in her eye. "Yes, Twilight?"
"We could increase the capacity for storage by making larger circles," Twilight said. Her horn glowed and her quill began sketching. "Look. You could make a larger structure that would store a similarly larger amount of magical energy and ship those to the homes of the host families where the Equestrian students will be staying. That would decrease their reliance on torcs, which, in turn would allow for fewer torcs being required."
"Twilight," Rarity said.
"And I bet we could even use the larger stations—I should come up with a name for that, really—I bet we could make it so that they could actually recharge the torcs! Right now, we're planning on recycling the ones we ship to Earth. You know, having the students send theirs in to be recharged and sending back fully charged ones in replacement. This could cut down on a lot of the logistics required for that!"
"Twilight, dear, I—"
"Material composition wouldn't be as large of a problem, either. It could be made out of any kind of metal or wood. Or, heck, even stone for a circle this large." Twilight frowned and crossed out some of the notes she'd written down before starting over with some calculations. "What would really be perfect, though, is if we found some way to convert other forms of energy into magic. Say, electricity."
"That's not—"
"I mean, humans have electricity in abundance! They even make it directly out of sunlight. Sunlight! That's pretty amazing, don’t you think? If we could make a solar-powered thaumic converter—Ooh, I like that name! I'll make a note of it—then a pony could stay on Earth indefinitely!" Twilight looked up and grinned. The grin started fading when she noticed the glassy-eyed look on Rarity's face. "Um... I got carried away, didn't I?"
“Just a bit, darling,” Rarity said. “I was asking for the jewelers, not for the sake of the exchange students. Though, I must say, having a larger store of magic to charge the cachettes is a grand idea, and solves another problem we’ve been having.”
“What problem would that be?” Twilight asked.
“Well, apparently the smaller cachettes have storage issues.”
“Well, they would have,” Twilight said, nodding. “The ability to retain magic increases drastically as the size of the circle increases. Something the size of an earring would last less than a day of minimal-to-moderate use.”
“And that is the issue they’re having,” Rarity said with a sigh. “However, if we can give them something larger to use to recharge it… well, that opens up many new possibilities, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.” A flash of inspiration hit Twilight right then and she grinned hugely. “And I may have a way to speed up the inscribing process!”
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Rarity beamed and leaned forward eagerly. “What would we need to do?”
Twilight’s quill was already racing over a new sheet of paper as she answered. “Simply put, we can use a mockup of the design, scaled to the correct size and adjusted for the materials used. A unicorn could use a simple transcribe spell to push it from the first medium to the second. If you use a printing press for the circle and the target material used is standardized enough, then you could push through several inscribed cachettes in the time it takes to do a single one now!”
Twilight sat back, feeling a warm glow of satisfaction at the overjoyed look on Rarity’s face.
“Oh, Twilight, you have no idea how much time this will save us!”
“Well, I could probably come up with an estimate. How long does it take now?”
“For a gem inscription?” Rarity hummed and tapped her hoof on her chin. “On a good-quality gem, it takes a skilled unicorn roughly a full eight hour day.”
“Well, then, if this works out as well as I hope it will, then I believe you’d be able to complete an inscribed gem in roughly one-tenth that time. So, seven hours and twelve minutes per gem, at a guess.”
Rarity was staring at her with a confused little smile on her muzzle. Twilight decided to clarify.
“Of course, that’s just a rough estimate based what you’ve just told me and on what I believe would be the optimal results from transcribing onto a gem. I may be missing some variables, since I’m not all that familiar with the current process.”
“Oh, Twilight,” Rarity said before she began laughing. After a moment, Twilight joined in, though she wasn’t completely certain how what she said was funny.
A different point of view
Author's Note: This takes place during chapter 13 of Project Sunflower: Harmony, picking up immediately after Applejack's scene leaves off.
The two of them walked down the road towards Sweet Apple Acres, with Applejack doing her best to fill Erin in on how earth pony magic worked. It was surprisingly hard for her to put into words. Especially since, if there was such a thing as an earth pony magic school, Applejack had never gone to one. She’d picked it all up as she had grown up, at first from her parents, and later from her Granny and Big Macintosh.
Speaking of the big lug, she saw the stallion in question a little ways up ahead on the road. It looked like he was repairing the fence, which had taken some damage over the winter. Applejack started to wrap up what she was saying as they approached her brother.
"And that’s is why we don't usually call it 'magic'," Applejack said to Erin, who was listening intently. "What we do is more like a partnership, workin' hard and helpin' the earth and nature work together. So, in order to teach you how to be an earth pony, I gotta work ya plenty hard."
"That's fine, Applejack," Erin replied, which caused Applejack to chuckle.
"Sure, you say that now, but you ain't gonna feel that way in a while. Trust me, gettin' yourself in sync with the earth an' nature ain't an easy thing, an' it's gonna be even harder for you, since you ain't been born to it. No offense intended."
“None taken,” Erin said as they finally reached where her brother was standing by the fence. She smiled, a little hesitantly. “Hi, Macintosh.”
Her brother, who had stopped working as the two of them had approached, ducked his head politely. “Howdy, Miss Sunflower,” he said. “I see you’re back to bein’ a pony.”
Erin grinned at him. “That, I am.”
“It looks like ya went all out,” Mac said, nodding towards Erin’s horn. Then he glanced down. “Wings too, I see.”
Erin blushed and scuffed a hoof in the dirt. “Yeah. I may have overdone it, there, but I didn’t want to keep going back to change into different types of pony.” She hesitated, then asked a little timidly, “I don’t look stupid, do I?”
Applejack felt an amused little thrill as she saw a blush spread out on her brother’s face.
“It… looks good on ya,” he said.
Erin blushed further, still scuffling her front hoof. Mac was studying a tree on the other side of the road with fake casualness, very obviously trying to make it look like he wasn’t checking Erin out. Applejack decided to take that as her cue to give the two of them a little bit of time to talk.
She cleared her throat and said, “Well, I’m gonna head back to the farm real quick, an’...” she hesitated, unsure of what to say next. “An’... get stuff ready, I guess,” she finished lamely. “You come along along after you catch up, Erin.”
Erin looked panicked for a moment before she relaxed and smiled. “Uh, sure. Thanks, Applejack.”
“Thanks, AJ,” Mac echoed.
Applejack broke into a trot, quickly leaving the two of them behind. She couldn’t stop a grin from spreading at the thought of the pair of them talking, alone. Sure, Big Mac had gone through a hard time when he found out that Erin wasn’t actually a pony and all that. And Erin was always quick to say she didn’t find stallions attractive, that she was still only interested in human males.
But Erin was a decent person, pony or not. She was more than a little weird, but she was also smart and kind. Most importantly, she was a hard worker. Her brother, she knew, had many fine qualities of his own, though she always downplayed that at home in order to prevent him from getting a big head about it. And, maybe she was biased, but she believed he was a decent-enough-looking stallion who could have his pick of Ponyville mares if he ever got over his shyness.
Applejack knew better than to push anything. Erin might not ever be interested, especially if she was still planning on returning to being a human in a few years. Not to mention, meddling was the surest way to make sure nothing happened. But, she decided with a chuckle, there was no harm in leaving the two of them stewing and seeing if anything came out of it.
And, heck, Erin was even asking for training in earth pony magic. It wasn’t any fault of Applejack’s that the training would require AJ to familiarize her with working on the farm. Which, in turn, would help to see if she really would make a good match for Big Mac one day, if she ever got over this whole “human males only” thing.
With a grin, Applejack arrived home, half-formed plans already taking shape in her head.